The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova de Seingalt, 1725-1798. Volume 20: MilanCasanova, Giacomo
History
The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova de Seingalt, 1725-1798. Volume 20: Milan
Casanova, Giacomo
Casanova, Giacomo, 1725-1798; Europe -- History -- 18th century -- Biography
The window is a great blessing to an impatient man, whom the rules of
politeness in some degree constrain. He can turn his back on bores,
without their being able to charge him witch direct rudeness; but people
know what he means, and that soothes his feelings.
I have noted this trifling circumstance only to point out how bad temper
blinds its victims. The poor abbe vexed me because he made himself
agreeable to Clementine, with whom I was already in love without knowing
it. I saw in him a rival, but far from endeavouring to offend me, he had
done his best to please me; and I should have taken account of his good
will. But under such circumstances I always gave way to ill humour, and
now I am too old to begin curing myself. I don't think I need do so, for
if I am ill tempered the company politely pass me over. My misfortune
obliges me to submit.
Clementine had conquered me in the space of a few hours. True, I was an
inflammable subject, but hitherto no beauty had committed such ravages
upon me in so short a time. I did not doubt of success, and I confess
that there was a certain amount of vanity in this assurance; but at the
same time I was modest, for I knew that at the slightest slip the
enterprise would miscarry. Thus I regarded the abbe as a wasp to be
crushed as speedily as possible. I was also a victim to that most
horrible of passions, jealousy; it seemed to me that if Clementine was
not in love with this man-monkey, she was extremely indulgent to him; and
with this idea I conceived a horrible plan of revenging my wrongs on her.
Love is the god of nature, but this god is, after all, only a spoilt
child. We know all his follies and frailties, but we still adore him.
My friend the count, who was surprised, I suppose, to see me
contemplating the prospect for such a long time, came up to me and asked
me if I wanted anything.
"I am thinking some matter over," said I, "and I must go and write one or
two letters in my room till it is time for supper."
"You won't leave us surely?" said he.
"Clementine, help me to keep M. de Seingalt; you must make him postpone
his letter-writing."
"But my dear brother," said the charming girl, "if M. de Seingalt has
business to do, it would be rude of me to try and prevent his doing it."
Though what she said was perfectly reasonable, it stung me to the quick;
when one is in an ill humour, everything is fuel for the fire. But the
abbe said pleasantly that I had much better come and make a bank at faro,
and as everything echoed this suggestion I had to give in.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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