The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova de Seingalt, 1725-1798. Volume 07: VeniceCasanova, Giacomo
History
The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova de Seingalt, 1725-1798. Volume 07: Venice
Casanova, Giacomo
Casanova, Giacomo, 1725-1798; Europe -- History -- 18th century -- Biography
Mdlle. C---- C---- never went out without her mother who, although very
pious, was full of kind indulgence. She read no books but her father's--a
serious man who had no novels in his library, and she was longing to read
some tales of romance. She had likewise a great wish to know Venice, and
as no one visited the family she had never been told that she was truly a
prodigy of beauty. Her brother was writing while I conversed with her, or
rather answered all the questions which she addressed to me, and which I
could only satisfy by developing the ideas that she already had, and that
she was herself amazed to find in her own mind, for her soul had until
then been unconscious of its own powers. Yet I did not tell her that she
was lovely and that she interested me in the highest degree, because I
had so often said the same to other women, and without truth, that I was
afraid of raising her suspicions.
I left the house with a sensation of dreamy sadness; feeling deeply moved
by the rare qualities I had discovered in that charming girl, I promised
myself not to see her again, for I hardly thought myself the man to
sacrifice my liberty entirely and to ask her in marriage, although I
certainly believed her endowed with all the qualities necessary to
minister to my happiness.
I had not seen Madame Manzoni since my return to Venice, and I went to
pay her a visit. I found the worthy woman the same as she had always been
towards me, and she gave me the most affectionate welcome. She told me
that Therese Imer, that pretty girl who had caused M. de Malipiero to
strike me thirteen years before, had just returned from Bayreuth, where
the margrave had made her fortune. As she lived in the house opposite,
Madame Manzoni, who wanted to enjoy her surprise, sent her word to come
over. She came almost immediately, holding by the hand a little boy of
eight years--a lovely child--and the only one she had given to her
husband, who was a dancer in Bayreuth. Our surprise at seeing one another
again was equal to the pleasure we experienced in recollecting what had
occurred in our young days; it is true that we had but trifles to
recollect. I congratulated her upon her good fortune, and judging of my
position from external appearances, she thought it right to congratulate
me, but her fortune would have been established on a firmer basis than
mine if she had followed a prudent line of conduct. She unfortunately
indulged in numerous caprices with which my readers will become
acquainted. She was an excellent musician, but her fortune was not
altogether owing to her talent; her charms had done more for her than
anything else. She told me her adventures, very likely with some
restrictions, and we parted after a conversation of two hours. She
invited me to breakfast for the following day. She told me that the
margrave had her narrowly watched, but being an old acquaintance I was
not likely to give rise to any suspicion; that is the aphorism of all
women addicted to gallantry.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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