The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova de Seingalt, 1725-1798. Volume 22: to LondonCasanova, Giacomo
History
The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova de Seingalt, 1725-1798. Volume 22: to London
Casanova, Giacomo
Casanova, Giacomo, 1725-1798; Europe -- History -- 18th century -- Biography
I felt angry with the impudent woman who had hitherto paid me so little
attention, and I wrote that I could only pity her, and that I had no time
to go and see her, and that I should be ashamed to ask anyone to bail her
out.
When young Cornelis had gone away in a melancholy mood, I told Clairmont
to ask Pauline if she would allow me to bid her a good day. She sent word
that I was at liberty to do so, and on going upstairs to her room I found
her sitting at a table on which were several books.
Some linen on a chest of drawers did not give me the idea that she was
very poor.
"I am immensely obliged," said she, "for all your goodness to me."
"Say nothing of that, madam; it is I who have need of your goodness."
"What can I do to shew my gratitude?"
"Could you trouble yourself to take your meals with me? When I am alone I
eat like an ogre, and my health suffers. If you do not feel inclined to
grant me that favour, do not hesitate to refuse, and I assure you you
shall fare just as well as if you had acceded to my request."
"I shall be delighted to dine and sup with you; sir, whenever you are
alone and you like to send for me. Nevertheless, I am not sure that my
society will amuse you."
"Very good, I am grateful to you, and I promise you you shall never
repent of your kindness. I will do my best to amuse you, and I hope I
shall succeed, for you have inspired me with the liveliest interest. We
will dine at one to-day."
I did not sit down or look at her books, or even ask her if she had spent
a good night. The only thing I noted was that she had looked pale and
careworn when I came in, and when I went out her cheeks were the colour
of the rose.
I went for a walk in the park, feeling quite taken with this charming
woman, and resolved to make her love me, for I did not want to owe
anything to gratitude. I felt curious to know where she came from, and
suspected she was an Italian; but I determined to ask her no questions
for fear of offending her.
When I got home Pauline came down of her own free will, and I was
delighted with this, which I took for a good omen. As we had half an hour
before us, I asked her how she found her health.
"Nature," she replied, "has favoured me with such a good constitution
that I have never had the least sickness in my life, except on the sea."
"You have made a voyage, then."
"I must have done so to come to England."
"You might be an Englishwoman."
"Yes, for the English language has been familiar to me from my
childhood."
We were seated on a sofa, and on the table in front of us was a
chess-board. Pauline toyed with the pawns, and I asked her if she could
play chess.
"Yes, and pretty well too from what they tell me."
"Then we will have a game together; my blunders will amuse you."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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