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
He had also paid my room a visit. She told me that she must have some
reparation made her, and thinking she was in the right I promised to
speak to M. de Bragadin on the matter the same day. Needing rest above
all things, I lay down, but my nervous excitement, which I attributed to
my heavy losses at play, made me rise after three or four hours, and I
went to see M. de Bragadin, to whom I told the whole story begging him to
press for some signal amends. I made a lively representation to him of
all the grounds on which my landlady required proportionate amends to be
made, since the laws guaranteed the peace of all law-abiding people.
I saw that the three friends were greatly saddened by what I said, and
the wise old man, quietly but sadly, told me that I should have my answer
after dinner.
De la Haye dined with us, but all through the meal, which was a
melancholy one, he spoke not a word. His silence should have told me all,
if I had not been under the influence of some malevolent genii who would
not allow me to exercise my common sense: as to the sorrow of my three
friends, I put that down to their friendship for me. My connection with
these worthy men had always been the talk of the town, and as all were
agreed that it could not be explained on natural grounds, it was deemed
to be the effect of some sorcery exercised by me. These three men were
thoroughly religious and virtuous citizens; I was nothing if not
irreligious, and Venice did not contain a greater libertine. Virtue, it
was said, may have compassion on vice, but cannot become its friend.
After dinner M. de Bragadin took me into his closet with his two friends,
from whom he had no secrets. He told me with wonderful calmness that
instead of meditating vengeance on Messer-Grande I should be thinking of
putting myself in a place of safety. "The portmanteau," said he, "was a
mere pretext; it was you they wanted and thought to find. Since your good
genius has made them miss you, look out for yourself; perhaps by
to-morrow it may be too late. I have been a State Inquisitor for eight
months, and I know the way in which the arrests ordered by the court are
carried out. They would not break open a door to look for a box of salt.
Indeed, it is possible that they knew you were out, and sought to warn
you to escape in this manner. Take my advice, my dear son, and set out
directly for Fusina, and thence as quickly as you can make your way to
Florence, where you can remain till I write to you that you may return
with safety. If you have no money I will give you a hundred sequins for
present expenses. Believe me that prudence bids you go."
Blinded by my folly, I answered him that being guilty of nothing I had
nothing to fear, and that consequently, although I knew his advice was
good, I could not follow it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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