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
I intended staying at Avignon only as long as might be necessary to see
the Fountain or Fall of Vaucluse, and so I had not got any letters of
introduction, and had not the pretext of acquaintance that I might stay
and enjoy her fine eyes. But an Italian who had read and enjoyed the
divine Petrarch would naturally wish to see the place made divine by the
poet's love for Laura. I went to the theatre, where I saw the vice-legate
Salviati, women of fashion, neither fair nor foul, and a wretched comic
opera; but I neither saw Astrodi nor any other actor from the Comedie
Italienne at Paris.
"Where is the famous Astrodi?" said I, to a young man sitting by me, "I
have not seen her yet."
"Excuse me, she has danced and sang before your eyes."
"By Jove, it's impossible! I know her perfectly, and if she has so
changed as not to be recognized she is no longer herself."
I turned to go, and two minutes after the young man I had addressed came
up and begged me to come back, and he would take me to Astradi's
dressing-room, as she had recognized me. I followed him without saying a
word, and saw a plain-looking girl, who threw her arms round my neck and
addressed me by my name, though I could have sworn I had never seen her
before, but she did not leave me time to speak. Close by I saw a man who
gave himself out as the father of the famous Astrodi, who was known to
all Paris, who had caused the death of the Comte d'Egmont, one of the
most amiable noblemen of the Court of Louis XV. I thought this ugly
female might be her sister, so I sat down and complimented her on her
talents. She asked if I would mind her changing her dress; and in a
moment she was running here and there, laughing and shewing a liberality
which possibly might have been absent if what she had to display had been
worth seeing.
I laughed internally at her wiles, for after my experiences at Grenoble
she would have found it a hard task to arouse my desires if she had been
as pretty as she was ugly. Her thinness and her tawny skin could not
divert my attention from other still less pleasing features about her. I
admired her confidence in spite of her disadvantages. She must have
credited me with a diabolic appetite, but these women often contrive to
extract charms out of their depravity which their delicacy would be
impotent to furnish. She begged me to sup with her, and as she persisted
I was obliged to refuse her in a way I should not have allowed myself to
use with any other woman. She then begged me to take four tickets for the
play the next day, which was to be for her benefit. I saw it was only a
matter of twelve francs, and delighted to be quit of her so cheaply I
told her to give me sixteen. I thought she would have gone mad with joy
when I gave her a double louis. She was not the real Astrodi. I went back
to my inn and had a delicious supper in my own room.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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