The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova de Seingalt, Vol. III (of VI), "The Eternal Quest": The First Complete and Unabridged English Translation, Illustrated with Old EngravingsCasanova, Giacomo
History
The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova de Seingalt, Vol. III (of VI), "The Eternal Quest": The First Complete and Unabridged English Translation, Illustrated with Old Engravings
Casanova, Giacomo
Casanova, Giacomo, 1725-1798; Europe -- History -- 18th century -- Biography
“In the afternoon my wife called on the chief of police and was politely received, but after hearing what she had to say he informed her that she must find out the forger, since M. Casanova’s honour might be endangered by the banker taking proceedings against him, in which case he would have to prosecute me.
“You see in what a difficult position we are placed, and I think you ought to try to help us. You have got your money and you are not without friends. Get their influence exerted in the matter, and we shall hear no more about it. Your interests as well as mine are concerned.”
“Except as a witness of the fact,” I answered, “I can have nothing to do with this affair. You agree that I received the bill from you, since you cashed it; that is enough for me. I should be glad to be of service to you, but I really don’t see what I can do. The best advice I can give you is to make a sacrifice of the rascally sharper who gave you the forged bill, and if you can’t do that I would counsel you to disappear, and the sooner the better, or else you may come to the galleys, or worse.”
He got into a rage at this, and turning his back on me went out, saying I should be sorry for what I had said.
My Spaniard followed him down the stair and came back to tell me that the signor had gone off threatening vengeance, and that, in his opinion, I would do well to be on my guard.
“All right,” said I, “say no more about it.”
All the same I was really very grateful for his advice, and I gave the matter a good deal of thought.
I dressed myself and went to see Esther, whom I had to convince of the divinity of my oracle, a different task with one whose own wits had told her so much concerning my methods. This was the problem she gave me to solve,
“Your oracle must tell me something which I, and only I, know.”
Feeling that it would be impossible to fulfil these conditions, I told her that the oracle might reveal some secret she might not care to have disclosed.
“That is impossible,” she answered, “as the secret will be known only to myself.”
“But, if the oracle replies I shall know the answer as well as you, and it may be something you would not like me to know.”
“There is no such thing, and, even if there were, if the oracle is not your own brain you can always find out anything you want to know.”
“But there is some limit to the powers of the oracle.”
“You are making idle excuses; either prove that I am mistaken in my ideas or acknowledge that my oracle is as good as yours.”
This was pushing me hard, and I was on the point of declaring myself conquered when a bright idea struck me.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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