The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova de Seingalt, 1725-1798. Volume 09: the False Nun — John Shaqi
The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova de Seingalt, 1725-1798. Volume 09: the False NunCasanova, Giacomo
History
The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova de Seingalt, 1725-1798. Volume 09: the False Nun
Casanova, Giacomo
Casanova, Giacomo, 1725-1798; Europe -- History -- 18th century -- Biography
We had been too long deprived of our amorous pleasures to think of taking
supper before we had offered a plenteous sacrifice to love. We spent two
hours in the sweetest of intoxications, our bliss seeming more acute than
at our first meeting. In spite of the fire which consumed me, in spite of
the ardour of my mistress, I was sufficiently master of myself to
disappoint her at the critical moment, for the picture which our friend
had drawn was always before my eyes. M---- M----, joyous and wanton,
having me for the first time in the character of boatman, augmented our
delights by her amorous caprices, but it was useless for her to try to
add fuel to my flame, since I loved her better than myself.
The night was short, for she was obliged to return at three in the
morning, and it struck one as we sat down to table. As the climax of ill
luck a storm came on whilst we were at supper. Our hair stood on end; our
only hope was founded in the nature of these squalls, which seldom last
more than an hour. We were in hopes, also, that it would not leave behind
it too strong a wind, as is sometimes the case, for though I was strong
and sturdy I was far from having the skill or experience of a
professional boatman.
In less than half an hour the storm became violent, one flash of
lightning followed another, the thunder roared, and the wind grew to a
gale. Yet after a heavy rain, in less than an hour, the sky cleared, but
there was no moon, it being the day after the Ascension. Two o'clock
stuck. I put my head out at the window, but perceive that a contrary gale
is blowing.
'Ma tiranno del mar Libecchio resta.'
This Libecchio which Ariosto calls--and with good reason--the tyrant of
the sea, is the southwesterly wind, which is commonly called 'Garbin' at
Venice. I said nothing, but I was frightened. I told my sweetheart that
we must needs sacrifice an hour of pleasure, since prudence would have it
so.
"Let us set out forthwith, for if the gale gets stronger I shall not be
able to double the island."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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