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
Just then Manon came in with my shirt, on which she had put fresh lace. I
thanked her, and she said with a blush that she did her father's hair
very well.
"I am delighted to hear it, and I shall be very pleased if you will be
kind enough to do the same offices for me till my servant recovers."
"With pleasure, sir."
"And I," said Rose, laughing, "will shave you."
"I should like to see how you do it; get the water."
I rose hastily, while Manon was preparing to do my hair. Rose returned
and shaved me admirably. As soon as she had washed off the lather, I
said,
"You must give me a kiss," presenting my cheek to her. She pretended not
to understand.
"I shall be vexed," said I, gravely but pleasantly, "if you refuse to
kiss me."
She begged to be excused, saying with a little smile, that it was not
customary to do so at Grenoble.
"Well, if you won't kiss me, you shan't shave me."
The father came in at that point, bringing his bill.
"Your daughter has just shaved me admirably," said I, "and she refuses to
kiss me, because it is not the custom at Grenoble."
"You little silly," said he, "it is the custom in Paris. You kiss me fast
enough after you have shaved me, why should you be less polite to this
gentleman?"
She then kissed me with an air of submission to the paternal decree which
made Manon laugh.
"Ah!" said the father, "your turn will come when you have finished doing
the gentleman's hair."
He was a cunning fellow, who knew the best way to prevent me cheapening
him, but there was no need, as I thought his charges reasonable, and as I
paid him in full he went off in great glee.
Manon did my hair as well as my dear Dubois, and kissed me when she had
done without making as many difficulties as Rose. I thought I should get
on well with both of them. They went downstairs when the banker was
announced.
He was quite a young man, and after he had counted me out four hundred
Louis, he observed that I must be very comfortable.
"Certainly," said I, "the two sisters are delightful."
"Their cousin is better. They are too discreet."
"I suppose they are well off."
"The father has two thousand francs a year. They will be able to marry
well-to-do tradesmen."
I was curious to see the cousin who was said to be prettier than the
sisters, and as soon as the banker had gone I went downstairs to satisfy
my curiosity. I met the father and asked him which was Le Duc's room, and
thereon I went to see my fine fellow. I found him sitting up in a
comfortable bed with a rubicund face which did not look as if he were
dangerously ill.
"What is the matter with you?
"Nothing, sir. I am having a fine time of it. Yesterday I thought I would
be ill."
"What made you think that?"
"The sight of the three Graces here, who are made of better stuff than
your handsome housekeeper, who would not let me kiss her. They are making
me wait too long for my broth, however. I shall have to speak severely
about it."
"Le Duc, you are a rascal."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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