The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova de Seingalt, 1725-1798. Volume 18: Return to NaplesCasanova, Giacomo
History
The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova de Seingalt, 1725-1798. Volume 18: Return to Naples
Casanova, Giacomo
Casanova, Giacomo, 1725-1798; Europe -- History -- 18th century -- Biography
"Can she speak French?"
"As well as a Frenchwoman."
"I am longing to see her."
When we got to the theatre I was introduced to several ladies, but none
of them pleased me. The king, a mere boy, sat in his box in the middle of
the theatre, surrounded by his courtiers, richly but tastefully dressed.
The pit was full and the boxes also. The latter were ornamented with
mirrors, and on that occasion were all illuminated for some reason or
other. It was a magnificent scene, but all this glitter and light put the
stage into the background.
After we had gazed for some time at the scene, which is almost peculiar
to Naples, the duke took me to his private box and introduced me to his
friends, who consisted of all the wits in the town.
I have often laughed on hearing philosophers declare that the
intelligence of a nation is not so much the result of the climate as of
education. Such sages should be sent to Naples and then to St.
Petersburg, and be told to reflect, or simply to look before them. If the
great Boerhaave had lived at Naples he would have learnt more about the
nature of sulphur by observing its effects on vegetables, and still more
on animals. In Naples, and Naples alone, water, and nothing but water,
will cure diseases which are fatal elsewhere, despite the doctors'
efforts.
The duke, who had left me to the wits for a short time, returned and took
me to the box of his mistress, who was accompanied by an old lady of
respectable appearance. As he went in he said, "'Leonilda mia, ti
presento il cavalier Don Giacomo Casanova, Veneziano, amico mio'."
She received me kindly and modestly, and stopped listening to the music
to talk to me.
When a woman is pretty, one recognizes her charms instantaneously; if one
has to examine her closely, her beauty is doubtful. Leonilda was
strikingly beautiful. I smiled and looked at the duke, who had told me
that he loved her like a daughter, and that he only kept her for form's
sake. He understood the glance, and said,--
"You may believe me."
"It's credible," I replied.
Leonilda no doubt understood what we meant, and said, with a shy smile,--
"Whatever is possible is credible."
"Quite so," said I, "but one may believe, or not believe, according to
the various degrees of possibility."
"I think it's easier to believe than to disbelieve. You came to Naples
yesterday; that's true and yet incredible."
"Why incredible?"
"Would any man suppose that a stranger would come to Naples at a time
when the inhabitants are wishing themselves away?"
"Indeed, I have felt afraid till this moment, but now I feel quite at my
ease, since, you being here, St. Januarius will surely protect Naples."
"Why?"
"Because I am sure he loves you; but you are laughing at me."
"It is such a funny idea. I am afraid that if I had a lover like St.
Januarius I should not grant him many favours."
"Is he very ugly, then?"
"If his portrait is a good likeness, you can see for yourself by
examining his statue."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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