The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova de Seingalt, 1725-1798. Volume 06: ParisCasanova, Giacomo
History
The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova de Seingalt, 1725-1798. Volume 06: Paris
Casanova, Giacomo
Casanova, Giacomo, 1725-1798; Europe -- History -- 18th century -- Biography
The tears were choking her: I went to the window so as to let her cry
without restraint: a few minutes after, I came back and I sat down by
her.
"Tell me all, my dear Vesian, unburden your heart freely, and do not
think yourself guilty towards me; in reality I have been wrong more than
you. Your heart would not now be a prey to sorrow if I had not been so
imprudent as to leave you alone at the theatre."
"Alas, sir! do not say so; ought I to reproach you because you thought me
so virtuous? Well, in a few words, the monster promised to shew me every
care, every attention, on condition of my giving him an undeniable, proof
of my affection and confidence--namely, to take a lodging without my
brother in the house of a woman whom he represented as respectable. He
insisted upon my brother not living with me, saying that evil-minded
persons might suppose him to be my lover. I allowed myself to be
persuaded. Unhappy creature! How could I give way without consulting you?
He told me that the respectable woman to whom he would take me would
accompany me to Versailles, and that he would send my brother there so
that we should be both presented to the war secretary. After our first
supper he told me that he would come and fetch me in a hackney coach the
next morning. He presented me with two louis and a gold watch, and I
thought I could accept those presents from a young nobleman who shewed so
much interest in me. The woman to whom he introduced me did not seem to
me as respectable as he had represented her to be. I have passed one week
with her without his doing anything to benefit my position. He would
come, go out, return as he pleased, telling me every day that it would be
the morrow, and when the morrow came there was always some impediment. At
last, at seven o'clock this morning, the woman told me that the count was
obliged to go into the country, that a hackney coach would bring me back
to his hotel, and that he would come and see me on his return. Then,
affecting an air of sadness, she told me that I must give her back the
watch because the count had forgotten to pay the watchmaker for it. I
handed it to her immediately without saying a word, and wrapping the
little I possessed in my handkerchief I came back here, where I arrived
half an hour since."
"Do you hope to see him on his return from the country?"
"To see him again! Oh, Lord! why have I ever seen him?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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