The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova de Seingalt
VENETIAN YEARS—A CLERIC IN NAPLES
CHAPTER VIII
My Misfortunes in Chiozza—Father Stephano—The
Lazzaretto at Ancona —The Greek Slave—My Pilgrimage to
Our Lady of Loretto—I Go to Rome on Foot, and From Rome to
Naples to Meet the Bishop—I Cannot Join Him—Good Luck
Offers Me the Means of Reaching Martorano, Which Place I Very
Quickly Leave to Return to Naples
[...]
I was in despair, and to crown my misery I found out as I was
going home that I had met the day before with another living
specimen of the Greek woman, less beautiful but as perfidious. I
went to bed stunned by my grief, and I believe that I must have
fainted into a heavy sleep, which lasted eleven hours; my awaking
was that of a miserable being, hating the light of heaven, of which
he felt himself unworthy, and I closed my eyes again, trying to
sleep for a little while longer. I dreaded to rouse myself up
entirely, knowing that I would then have to take some decision; but
I never once thought of returning to Venice, which would have been
the very best thing to do, and I would have destroyed myself rather
than confide my sad position to the young doctor. I was weary of my
existence, and I entertained vaguely some hope of starving where I
was, without leaving my bed. It is certain that I should not have
got up if M. Alban, the master of the peotta, had not roused me by
calling upon me and informing me that the boat was ready to
sail.
The man who is delivered from great perplexity, no matter by
what means, feels himself relieved. It seemed to me that Captain
Alban had come to point out the only thing I could possibly do; I
dressed myself in haste, and tying all my worldly possessions in a
handkerchief I went on board. Soon afterwards we left the shore,
and in the morning we cast anchor in Orsera
a seaport of Istria.
We all landed to visit the city, which would more properly be
called a village. It belongs to the Pope, the Republic of Venice
having abandoned it to the Holy See.
A young monk of the order of the Recollects who called himself
Friar Stephano of Belun, and had obtained a free passage from the
devout Captain Alban, joined me as we landed and enquired whether I
felt sick.
“Reverend father, I am unhappy.”
“You will forget all your sorrow, if you will come and
dine with me at the house of one of our devout friends.”
I had not broken my fast for thirty-six hours, and having
suffered much from sea-sickness during the night, my stomach was
quite empty. My erotic inconvenience made me very uncomfortable, my
mind felt deeply the consciousness of my degradation, and I did not
possess a groat! I was in such a miserable state that I had no
strength to accept or to refuse anything. I was thoroughly torpid,
and I followed the monk mechanically.
He presented me to a lady, saying that he was accompanying me to
Rome, where I intend to become a Franciscan. This untruth disgusted
me, and under any other circumstances I would not have let it pass
without protest, but in my actual position it struck me as rather
comical. The good lady gave us a good dinner of fish cooked in oil,
which in Orsera is delicious, and we drank some exquisite refosco.
During our meal, a priest happened to drop in, and, after a short
conversation, he told me that I ought not to pass the night on
board the tartan, and pressed me to accept a bed in his house and a
good dinner for the next day in case the wind should not allow us
to sail; I accepted without hesitation. I offered my most sincere
thanks to the good old lady, and the priest took me all over the
town. In the evening, he brought me to his house where we partook
of an excellent supper prepared by his housekeeper, who sat down to
the table with us, and with whom I was much pleased. The refosco,
still better than that which I had drunk at dinner, scattered all
my misery to the wind, and I conversed gaily with the priest. He
offered to read to me a poem of his own composition, but, feeling
that my eyes would not keep open, I begged he would excuse me and
postpone the reading until the following day.
I went to bed, and in the morning, after ten hours of the most
profound sleep, the housekeeper, who had been watching for my
awakening, brought me some coffee. I thought her a charming woman,
but, alas! I was not in a fit state to prove to her the high
estimation in which I held her beauty.
Entertaining feelings of gratitude for my kind host, and
disposed to listen attentively to his poem, I dismissed all
sadness, and I paid his poetry such compliments that he was
delighted, and, finding me much more talented than he had judged me
to be at first, he insisted upon treating me to a reading of his
idylls, and I had to swallow them, bearing the infliction
cheerfully. The day passed off very agreeably; the housekeeper
surrounded me with the kindest attentions —a proof that she
was smitten with me; and, giving way to that pleasing idea, I felt
that, by a very natural system of reciprocity, she had made my
conquest. The good priest thought that the day had passed like
lightning, thanks to all the beauties I had discovered in his
poetry, which, to speak the truth, was below mediocrity, but time
seemed to me to drag along very slowly, because the friendly
glances of the housekeeper made me long for bedtime, in spite of
the miserable condition in which I felt myself morally and
physically. But such was my nature; I abandoned myself to joy and
happiness, when, had I been more reasonable, I ought to have sunk
under my grief and sadness.
But the golden time came at last. I found the pretty housekeeper
full of compliance, but only up to a certain point, and as she
offered some resistance when I shewed myself disposed to pay a full
homage to her charms, I quietly gave up the undertaking, very well
pleased for both of us that it had not been carried any further,
and I sought my couch in peace. But I had not seen the end of the
adventure, for the next morning, when she brought my coffee, her
pretty, enticing manners allured me to bestow a few loving caresses
upon her, and if she did not abandon herself entirely, it was only,
as she said, because she was afraid of some surprise. The day
passed off very pleasantly with the good priest, and at night, the
housekeeper no longer fearing detection, and I having on my side
taken every precaution necessary in the state in which I was, we
passed two most delicious hours. I left Orsera the next
morning.
Friar Stephano amused me all day with his talk, which plainly
showed me his ignorance combined with knavery under the veil of
simplicity. He made me look at the alms he had received in
Orsera—bread, wine, cheese, sausages, preserves, and
chocolate; every nook and cranny of his holy garment was full of
provisions.
“Have you received money likewise?” I enquired.
“God forbid! In the first place, our glorious order does
not permit me to touch money, and, in the second place, were I to
be foolish enough to receive any when I am begging, people would
think themselves quit of me with one or two sous, whilst they dive
me ten times as much in eatables. Believe me Saint-Francis, was a
very judicious man.”
I bethought myself that what this monk called wealth would be
poverty to me. He offered to share with me, and seemed very proud
at my consenting to honour him so far.
The tartan touched at the harbour of Pola, called
Veruda, and we
landed. After a walk up hill of nearly a quarter of an hour, we
entered the city, and I devoted a couple of hours to visiting the
Roman antiquities, which are numerous, the town having been the
metropolis of the empire. Yet I saw no other trace of grand
buildings except the ruins of the arena. We returned to Veruda, and
went again to sea. [...]
CHAPTER XIII
I Renounce the Clerical Profession, and Enter the Military
Service— Therese Leaves for Naples, and I Go to
Venice—I Am Appointed Ensign in the Army of My Native
Country—I Embark for Corfu, and Land at Orsera to Take a
Walk
[...]
I went on board, on the 5th of May, with a good supply of clothing, jewels,
and ready cash. Our ship carried twenty-four guns and two hundred Sclavonian
soldiers. We sailed from Malamacca to the shores of Istria during the night, and
we came to anchor in the harbour of Orsera to take ballast. I landed with
several others to take a stroll through the wretched place where I had spent
three days nine months before, a recollection which caused me a pleasant
sensation when I compared my present position to what it was at that time. What
a difference in everything—health, social condition, and money! I felt quite
certain that in the splendid uniform I was now wearing nobody would recognize
the miserable-looking abbe who, but for Friar Stephano, would have become—God
knows what!
CHAPTER XIV
An Amusing Meeting in Orsera—Journey to Corfu—My
Stay in Constantinople—Bonneval—My Return to
Corfu—Madame F.—The False Prince—I Run Away from
Corfu—My Frolics at Casopo—I Surrender My self a
Prisoner—My Speedy Release and Triumph—My Success with
Madame F.
I affirm that a stupid servant is more dangerous than a bad one,
and a much greater plague, for one can be on one’s guard
against a wicked person, but never against a fool. You can punish
wickedness but not stupidity, unless you send away the fool, male
or female, who is guilty of it, and if you do so you generally find
out that the change has only thrown you out of the frying-pan into
the fire.
This chapter and the two following ones were written; they gave
at full length all the particulars which I must now abridge, for my
silly servant has taken the three chapters for her own purposes.
She pleaded as an excuse that the sheets of paper were old, written
upon, covered with scribbling and erasures, and that she had taken
them in preference to nice, clean paper, thinking that I would care
much more for the last than for the first. I flew into a violent
passion, but I was wrong, for the poor girl had acted with a good
intent; her judgment alone had misled her. It is well known that
the first result of anger is to deprive the angry man of the
faculty of reason, for anger and reason do not belong to the same
family. Luckily, passion does not keep me long under its sway:
‘Irasci, celerem tamen et placabilem esse’. After I had
wasted my time in hurling at her bitter reproaches, the force of
which did not strike her, and in proving to her that she was a
stupid fool, she refuted all my arguments by the most complete
silence. There was nothing to do but to resign myself, and,
although not yet in the best of tempers, I went to work. What I am
going to write will probably not be so good as what I had composed
when I felt in the proper humour, but my readers must be satisfied
with it they will, like the engineer, gain in time what they lose
in strength.
I landed at Orsera while our ship was taking ballast, as a ship
cannot sail well when she is too light, and I was walking about
when I remarked a man who was looking at me very attentively. As I
had no dread of any creditor, I thought that he was interested by
my fine appearance; I could not find fault with such a feeling, and
kept walking on, but as I passed him, he addressed me:
“Might I presume to enquire whether this is your first
visit to Orsera, captain?”
“No, sir, it is my second visit to this city.”
“Were you not here last year?”
“I was.”
“But you were not in uniform then?”
“True again; but your questions begin to sound rather
indiscreet.”
“Be good enough to forgive me, sir, for my curiosity is
the offspring of gratitude. I am indebted to you for the greatest
benefits, and I trust that Providence has brought you here again
only to give me the opportunity of making greater still my debt of
gratitude to you.”
“What on earth have I done, and what can I do for you? I
am at a loss to guess your meaning.”
“Will you be so kind as to come and breakfast with me? My
house is near at hand; my refosco is delicious, please to taste it,
and I will convince you in a few words that you are truly my
benefactor, and that I have a right to expect that you have
returned Orsera to load me with fresh benefits.”
I could not suspect the man of insanity; but, as I could not
make him out, I fancied that he wanted to make me purchase some of
his refosco, and I accepted his invitation. We went up to his room,
and he left me for a few moments to order breakfast. I observed
several surgical instruments, which made me suppose that he was a
surgeon, and I asked him when he returned.
“Yes, captain; I have been practising surgery in this
place for twenty years, and in a very poor way, for I had nothing
to do, except a few cases of bleeding, of cupping, and occasionally
some slight excoriation to dress or a sprained ankle to put to
rights. I did not earn even the poorest living. But since last year
a great change has taken place; I have made a good deal of money, I
have laid it out advantageously, and it is to you, captain, to you
(may God bless you!) that I am indebted for my present
comforts.”
“But how so?”
“In this way, captain. You had a connection with Don
Jerome’s housekeeper, and you left her, when you went away, a
certain souvenir which she communicated to a friend of hers, who,
in perfect good faith, made a present of it to his wife. This lady
did not wish, I suppose, to be selfish, and she gave the souvenir
to a libertine who, in his turn, was so generous with it that, in
less than a month, I had about fifty clients. The following months
were not less fruitful, and I gave the benefit of my attendance to
everybody, of course, for a consideration. There are a few patients
still under my care, but in a short time there will be no more, as
the souvenir left by you has now lost all its virtue. You can
easily realize now the joy I felt when I saw you; you are a bird of
good omen. May I hope that your visit will last long enough to
enable you to renew the source of my fortune?”
I laughed heartily, but he was grieved to hear that I was in
excellent health. He remarked, however, that I was not likely to be
so well off on my return, because, in the country to which I was
going, there was abundance of damaged goods, but that no one knew
better than he did how to root out the venom left by the use of
such bad merchandise. He begged that I would depend upon him, and
not trust myself in the hands of quacks, who would be sure to palm
their remedies upon me. I promised him everything, and, taking
leave of him with many thanks, I returned to the ship. I related
the whole affair to M. Dolfin, who was highly amused.
[...]
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