The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova de Seingalt, 1725-1798. Volume 19: Back Again to ParisCasanova, Giacomo
History
The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova de Seingalt, 1725-1798. Volume 19: Back Again to Paris
Casanova, Giacomo
Casanova, Giacomo, 1725-1798; Europe -- History -- 18th century -- Biography
I thought he was mad, and that some arrangement would be come to; but
nothing of the kind. D'Ache fired a second time, and again missed; and
Schmit, without a word, but as calm as death, fired his first pistol in
the air, and then covering d'Ache with his second pistol hit him in the
forehead and stretched him dead on the ground. He put back his pistols
into his pocket and went off directly by himself, as if he were merely
continuing his walk. In two minutes I followed his example, after
ascertaining that the unfortunate d'Ache no longer breathed.
I was in a state of amazement. Such a duel was more like a combat of
romance than a real fact. I could not understand it; I had watched the
Swiss, and had not noticed the slightest change pass over his face.
I breakfasted with Madame d'Urfe, whom I found inconsolable. It was the
full moon, and at three minutes past four exactly I ought to perform the
mysterious creation of the child in which she was to be born again. But
the Lascaris, on whom the work was to be wrought, was twisting and
turning in her bed, contorting herself in such a way that it would be
impossible for me to accomplish the prolific work.
My grief, when I heard what had happened, was hypocritical; in the first
place because I no longer felt any desire for the girl, and in the second
because I thought I saw a way in which I could make use of the incident
to take vengeance on her.
I lavished consolations on Madame d'Urfe; and on consulting the oracle I
found that the Lascaris had been defiled by an evil genius, and that I
must search for another virgin whose purity must be under the protection
of more powerful spirits. I saw that my madwoman was perfectly happy with
this, and I left her to visit the Corticelli, whom I found in bed with
her mother beside her.
"You have convulsions, have you, dearest?" said I.
"No, I haven't. I am quite well, but all the same I shall have them till
you give me back my jewel-casket."
"You are getting wicked, my poor child; this comes of following your
mother's advice. As for the casket, if you are going to behave like this,
probably you will have it."
"I will reveal all."
"You will not be believed; and I shall send you back to Bologna without
letting you take any of the presents which Madame d'Urfe has given you."
"You ought to have given me back the casket when I declared myself with
child."
Signora Laura told me that this was only too true, though I was not the
father.
"Who is, then?" I asked.
"Count N----, whose mistress she was at Prague."
It did not seem probable, as she had no symptoms of pregnancy; still it
might be so. I was obliged to plot myself to bring the plots of these two
rascally women to nought, and without saying anything to them I shut
myself up with Madame d'Urfe to enquire of the oracle concerning the
operation which was to make her happy.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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