The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova de Seingalt, 1725-1798. Volume 10: under the Leads — John Shaqi
The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova de Seingalt, 1725-1798. Volume 10: under the LeadsCasanova, Giacomo
History
The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova de Seingalt, 1725-1798. Volume 10: under the Leads
Casanova, Giacomo
Casanova, Giacomo, 1725-1798; Europe -- History -- 18th century -- Biography
One fine morning, as I was walking in the garret, my eyes fell on the
iron bar I have mentioned, and I saw that it might very easily be made
into a defensive or offensive weapon. I took possession of it, and having
hidden it under my dressing-gown I conveyed it into my cell. As soon as I
was alone, I took the piece of black marble, and I found that I had to my
hand an excellent whetstone; for by rubbing the bar with the stone I
obtained a very good edge.
My interest roused in this work in which I was but an apprentice, and in
the fashion in which I seemed likely to become possessed of an instrument
totally prohibited under the Leads, impelled, perhaps, also by my vanity
to make a weapon without any of the necessary tools, and incited by my
very difficulties (for I worked away till dark without anything to hold
my whetstone except my left hand, and without a drop of oil to soften the
iron), I made up my mind to persevere in my difficult task. My saliva
served me in the stead of oil, and I toiled eight days to produce eight
edges terminating in a sharp point, the edges being an inch and a half in
length. My bar thus sharpened formed an eight-sided dagger, and would
have done justice to a first-rate cutler. No one can imagine the toil and
trouble I had to bear, nor the patience required to finish this difficult
task without any other tools than a loose piece of stone. I put myself,
in fact, to a kind of torture unknown to the tyrants of all ages. My
right arm had become so stiff that I could hardly move it; the palm of my
hand was covered with a large scar, the result of the numerous blisters
caused by the hardness and the length of the work. No one would guess the
sufferings I underwent to bring my work to completion.
Proud of what I had done, without thinking what use I could make of my
weapon, my first care was to hide it in such a manner as would defy a
minute search. After thinking over a thousand plans, to all of which
there was some objection, I cast my eyes on my arm-chair, and there I
contrived to hide it so as to be secure from all suspicion. Thus did
Providence aid me to contrive a wonderful and almost inconceivable plan
of escape. I confess to a feeling of vanity, not because I eventually
succeeded--for I owed something to good luck--but because I was brave
enough to undertake such a scheme in spite of the difficulties which
might have ruined my plans and prevented my ever attaining liberty.
After thinking for three or four days as to what I should do with the bar
I had made into an edged tool, as thick as a walking-stick and twenty
inches long, I determined that the best plan would be to make a hole in
the floor under my bed.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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