The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova de Seingalt, Vol. VI (of VI), "Spanish Passions": The First Complete and Unabridged English Translation, Illustrated with Old EngravingsCasanova, Giacomo
History
The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova de Seingalt, Vol. VI (of VI), "Spanish Passions": The First Complete and Unabridged English Translation, Illustrated with Old Engravings
Casanova, Giacomo
Casanova, Giacomo, 1725-1798; Europe -- History -- 18th century -- Biography
“Exactly. Do you think that it costs me no pain? But I must make the effort for the sake of my peace of mind.”
“Then she will be sure that you do not love her.”
“She must think what she pleases. In the meanwhile I feel sure that if she loved me as I loved her, we should be of one mind.”
“We have duties which seem to press lightly on you.”
“Then be faithful to your duties, and permit a man of honour to respect them by visiting you no more.”
Armelline then appeared. I thought her changed.
“Why do you look so grave and pale?”
“Because you have grieved me.”
“Come then, be gay once more, and allow me to cure myself of a passion, the essence of which is to induce you to fail in your duty. I shall be still your friend, and I shall come to see you once a week while I remain in Rome.”
“Once a week! You needn’t have begun by coming once a day.”
“You are right; it was your kind expression which deceived me, but I hope you will allow me to become rational again. For this to happen, I must try not to see you more than I can help. Think over it, and you will see that I am doing all for the best.”
“It’s very hard that you can’t love me as I love you.”
“You mean calmly, and without desires.”
“I don’t say that; but holding your desires in check, if they are contrary to the voice of duty.”
“I’m too old to learn this method, and it does not seem to me an attractive one. Kindly tell me whether the restraint of your desires gives you much pain?”
“I don’t repress my desires when I think of you, I cherish them; I wish you were the Pope, I wish you were my father, that I might caress you in all innocence; in my dreams I wish you could become a girl, so that we might always live happily together.”
At this true touch of native simplicity, I could not help smiling.
I told them that I should come in the evening to take them to the Aliberti, and felt in a better humour after my visit, for I could see that there was no art or coquetry in what Armelline said. I saw that she loved me, but would not come to a parley with her love, hence her repugnance to granting me her favours; if she once did so, her eyes would be opened. All this was pure nature, for experience had not yet taught her that she ought either to avoid me or to succumb to my affection.
In the evening I called for the two friends to take them to the opera, and I had not long to wait. I was by myself in the carriage, but they evinced no surprise. Emilie conveyed to me the compliments of the superioress, who would be obliged by my calling on her the following day. At the opera I let them gaze at the spectacle which they saw for the first time, and answered whatever questions they put to me. As they were Romans, they ought to have known what a castrato was, nevertheless, Armelline took the wretched individual who sang the prima donna’s part for a woman, and pointed to his breast, which was really a fine one.
“Would you dare to sleep in the same bed with him?” I asked.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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