The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova de Seingalt, 1725-1798. Volume 11: Paris and HollandCasanova, Giacomo
History
The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova de Seingalt, 1725-1798. Volume 11: Paris and Holland
Casanova, Giacomo
Casanova, Giacomo, 1725-1798; Europe -- History -- 18th century -- Biography
"You're a nice man," said he, "to think I was going to fight you. Ah! ha!
I have caught you, haven't I?"
"Who told you that I was meditating a duel?"
"Confess that such was the case?"
"I protest; there is a great difference between believing and supposing;
the one is positive, the other merely hypothetical. I must confess,
however, that your invitation to take a walk roused my curiosity as to
what was to come next, and I admire your wit. But you must believe me
that I do not regard myself as caught in a trap--far from that, I am so
well pleased that I feel grateful to you."
In the afternoon we all took a walk, and I gave my arm to the charming
mistress of the house. In the evening I took my leave, and set out early
the next day having made a fair copy of my report.
At five o'clock in the morning I was fast asleep in my carriage, when I
was suddenly awakened. We were at the gate of Amiens. The fellow at the
door was an exciseman--a race everywhere detested and with good cause,
for besides the insolence of their manners nothing makes a man feel more
like a slave than the inquisitorial search they are accustomed to make
through one's clothes and most secret possessions. He asked me if I had
anything contraband; and being in a bad temper at being deprived of my
sleep to answer such a question I replied with an oath that I had nothing
of the sort, and that he would have done better to let me sleep.
"As you talk in that style," said the creature, "we will see what we can
see."
He ordered the postillion to pass on with the carriage. He had my luggage
hauled down, and not being able to hinder him I fumed in silence.
I saw my mistake, but there was nothing to be done; and having no
contraband goods I had nothing to fear, but my bad temper cost me two
weary hours of delay. The joys of vengeance were depicted on the features
of the exciseman. At the time of which I am writing these gaugers were
the dregs of the people, but would become tractable on being treated with
a little politeness. The sum of twenty-four sous given with good grace
would make them as supple as a pair of gloves; they would bow to the
travellers, wish them a pleasant journey, and give no trouble. I knew all
this, but there are times when a man acts mechanically as I had done,
unfortunately.
The scoundrels emptied my boxes and unfolded everything even to my
shirts, between which they said I might have concealed English lace.
After searching everything they gave me back my keys, but they had not
yet done with us; they began to search my carriage. The rascal who was at
the head of them began to shout "victory," he had discovered the
remainder of a pound of snuff which I had bought at St. Omer on my way to
Dunkirk.
With a voice of triumph the chief exciseman gave orders that my carriage
should be seized, and warned me that I would have to pay a fine of twelve
hundred francs.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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