The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova de Seingalt, Vol. V (of VI), "In London and Moscow": The First Complete and Unabridged English Translation, Illustrated with Old EngravingsCasanova, Giacomo
History
The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova de Seingalt, Vol. V (of VI), "In London and Moscow": The First Complete and Unabridged English Translation, Illustrated with Old Engravings
Casanova, Giacomo
Casanova, Giacomo, 1725-1798; Europe -- History -- 18th century -- Biography
Nevertheless, I took the mother aside, and told her that the disease was solely caused by Sophie’s dread of her severity.
“In spite of your affection,” said I, “you treat her with insufferable tyranny. Send her to a boarding-school for a couple of years, and let her associate with girls of good family. Tell her this evening that she is to go to school, and see if she does not get better.”
“Yes,” said she, “but a good boarding-school costs a hundred guineas a year, including masters.”
“If I approve of the school you select I will pay a year in advance.”
On my making this offer the woman, who seemed to be living so luxuriously, but was in reality poverty-stricken, embraced me with the utmost gratitude.
“Come and tell the news to your daughter now,” said she, “I should like to watch her face when she hears it.”
“Certainly.”
“My dear Sophie,” I said, “your mother agrees with me that if you had a change of air you would get better, and if you would like to spend a year or two in a good school I will pay the first year in advance.”
“Of course, I will obey my dear mother,” said Sophie.
“There is no question of obedience. Would you like to go to school? Tell me truly.”
“But would my mother like me to go?”
“Yes, my child, if it would please you.”
“Then, mamma, I should like to go very much.”
Her face flushed as she spoke, and I knew that my diagnosis had been correct. I left her saying I should hope to hear from her soon.
At ten o’clock the next day Jarbe came to ask if I had forgotten my engagement.
“No,” said I, “but it is only ten o’clock.”
“Yes, but we have twenty miles to go.”
“Twenty miles?”
“Certainly, the house is at St. Albans.”
“It’s very strange Pembroke never told me; how did you find out the address?”
“He left it when he went away.”
“Just like an Englishman.”
I took a post-chaise, and in three hours I had reached my destination. The English roads are excellent, and the country offers a smiling prospect on every side. The vine is lacking, for though the English soil is fertile it will not bear grapes.
Lord Pembroke’s house was not a particularly large one, but twenty masters and their servants could easily be accommodated in it.
The lady had not yet arrived, so my lord shewed me his gardens, his fountains, and his magnificent hot-houses; also a cock chained by the leg, and of a truly ferocious aspect.
“What have we here, my lord?”
“A cock.”
“I see it is, but why do you chain it?”
“Because it is savage. It is very amorous, and if it were loose it would go after the hens, and kill all the cocks on the country-side.”
“But why do you condemn him to celibacy?”
“To make him fiercer. Here, this is the list of his conquests.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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