The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova de Seingalt, 1725-1798. Volume 16: Depart SwitzerlandCasanova, Giacomo
History
The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova de Seingalt, 1725-1798. Volume 16: Depart Switzerland
Casanova, Giacomo
Casanova, Giacomo, 1725-1798; Europe -- History -- 18th century -- Biography
At this they gazed at one another in a kind of blank surprise, as if
indignant at what I had said. Foreseeing that feminine pride might prompt
them to treat my accusation as an idle calumny, I resolved not to give
them time, and drawing Manon on to my knee I embraced her with such
ardour that she gave in and abandoned herself to my passion. Her example
overcame the others, and for five hours we indulged in every kind of
voluptuous enjoyment. At the end of that time we were all in need of
rest, but I had to go. I wanted to give them some jewels, but they said
they would rather I ordered gloves to the amount of thirty louis, the
money to be paid in advance, and the gloves not to be called for.
I went to sleep on board the boat, and did not awake till we got to
Avignon. I was conducted to the inn of "St. Omen" and supped in my room
in spite of the marvellous tales which Le Duc told me of a young beauty
at the public table.
Next morning my Spaniard told me that the beauty and her husband slept in
a room next to mine. At the same time he brought me a bill of the play,
and I saw Company from Paris, with Mdlle. Astrodi, who was to sing and
dance. I gave a cry of wonder, and exclaimed,--
"The famous Astrodi at Avignon--how she will be astonished to see me!"
Not wanting to live in hermit fashion, I went downstairs to dine at the
public table, and I found a score of people sitting down to such a choice
repast that I could not conceive how it could be done for forty sous a
head. The fair stranger drew all eyes, and especially mine, towards her.
She was a young and perfect beauty, silent, her eyes fixed on a napkin,
replying in monosyllables to those who addressed her, and glancing at the
speaker with large blue eyes, the beauty of which it would be difficult
to describe. Her husband was seated at the other end of the table--a man
of a kind that inspires contempt at the first glance. He was young,
marked with the small-pox, a greedy eater, a loud talker, laughing and
speaking at random, and altogether I took him for a servant in disguise.
Feeling sure that such a fellow did not know how to refuse, I sent him a
glass of champagne, which he drank off to my health forthwith. "May I
have the pleasure of sending a glass to your wife?" He replied, with a
roar of laughter, to ask her myself; and with a slight bow she told me
that she never took anything to drink. When the dessert came in she rose,
and her husband followed her to their room.
A stranger who like myself had never seen her before, asked me who she
was. I said I was a newcomer and did not know, and somebody else said
that her husband called himself the Chevalier Stuard, that he came from
Lyons, and was going to Marseilles; he came, it appeared, to Avignon a
week ago, without servants, and in a very poor carriage.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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