



Produced by David Widger





THE MEMOIRS OF JACQUES CASANOVA DE SEINGALT

THE RARE UNABRIDGED LONDON EDITION OF 1894 TRANSLATED BY ARTHUR MACHEN TO
WHICH HAS BEEN ADDED THE CHAPTERS DISCOVERED BY ARTHUR SYMONS.

MEMOIRS OF JACQUES CASANOVA de SEINGALT 1725-1798 IN LONDON AND MOSCOW,
Volume 5a--SOUTH OF FRANCE




SOUTH OF FRANCE




CHAPTER I

I Find Rosalie Happy--The Signora Isola-Bella--The
Cook--Biribi--Irene--Possano in Prison--My Niece Proves to be an Old
Friend of Rosalie's

At Genoa, where he was known to all, Pogomas called himself Possano. He
introduced me to his wife and daughter, but they were so ugly and
disgusting in every respect that I left them on some trifling pretext,
and went to dine with my new niece. Afterwards I went to see the Marquis
Grimaldi, for I longed to know what had become of Rosalie. The marquis
was away in Venice, and was not expected back till the end of April; but
one of his servants took me to Rosalie, who had become Madame Paretti six
months after my departure.

My heart beat fast as I entered the abode of this woman, of whom I had
such pleasant recollections. I first went to M. Paretti in his shop, and
he received me with a joyful smile, which shewed me how happy he was. He
took me to his wife directly, who cried out with delight, and ran to
embrace me.

M. Paretti was busy, and begged me to excuse him, saying his wife would
entertain me.

Rosalie shewed me a pretty little girl of six months old, telling me that
she was happy, that she loved her husband, and was loved by him, that he
was industrious and active in business, and under the patronage of the
Marquis Grimaldi had prospered exceedingly.

The peaceful happiness of marriage had improved her wonderfully; she had
become a perfect beauty in every sense of the word.

"My dear friend," she said, "you are very good to call on me directly you
arrive, and I hope you will dine with us to-morrow. I owe all my
happiness to you, and that is even a sweeter thought than the
recollection of the passionate hours we have spent together. Let us kiss,
but no more; my duty as an honest wife forbids me from going any further,
so do not disturb the happiness you have given."

I pressed her hand tenderly, to skew that I assented to the conditions
she laid down.

"Oh! by the way," she suddenly exclaimed, "I have a pleasant surprise for
you."

She went out, and a moment afterward returned with Veronique, who had
become her maid. I was glad to see her and embraced her affectionately,
asking after Annette. She said her sister was well, and was working with
her mother.

"I want her to come and wait on my niece while we are here," said I.

At this Rosalie burst out laughing.

"What! another niece? You have a great many relations! But as she is your
niece, I hope you will bring her with you to-morrow."

"Certainly, and all the more willingly as she is from Marseilles."

"From Marseilles? Why, we might know each other. Not that that would
matter, for all your nieces are discreet young persons. What is her
name?"

"Crosin."

"I don't know it."

"I daresay you don't. She is the daughter of a cousin of mine who lived
at Marseilles."

"Tell that to someone else; but, after all, what does it matter? You
choose well, amuse yourself, and make them happy. It may be wisdom after
all, and at any rate I congratulate you. I shall be delighted to see your
niece, but if she knows me you must see that she knows her part as well."

On leaving Madame Paretti I called on the Signora Isola-Bella, and gave
her the Marquis Triulzi's letter. Soon after she came into the room and
welcomed me, saying that she had been expecting me, as Triulzi had
written to her on the subject. She introduced me to the Marquis Augustino
Grimaldi delta Pietra, her 'cicisbeoin-chief' during the long absence of
her husband, who lived at Lisbon.

The signora's apartments were very elegant. She was pretty with small
though regular features, her manner was pleasant, her voice sweet, and
her figure well shaped, though too thin. She was nearly thirty. I say
nothing of her complexion, for her face was plastered with white and red,
and so coarsely, that these patches of paint were the first things that
caught my attention. I was disgusted at this, in spite of her fine
expressive eyes. After an hour spent in question and reply, in which both
parties were feeling their way, I accepted her invitation to come to
supper on the following day. When I got back I complimented my niece on
the way in which she had arranged her room, which was only separated from
mine by a small closet which I intended for her maid, who, I told her,
was coming the next day. She was highly pleased with this attention, and
it paved the way for my success. I also told her that the next day she
was to dine with me at a substantial merchant's as my niece, and this
piece of news made her quite happy.

This girl whom Croce had infatuated and deprived of her senses was
exquisitely beautiful, but more charming than all her physical beauties
were the nobleness of her presence and the sweetness of her disposition.
I was already madly in love with her, and I repented not having taken
possession of her on the first day of our journey. If I had taken her at
her word I should have been a steadfast lover, and I do not think it
would have taken me long to make her forget her former admirer.

I had made but a small dinner, so I sat down to supper famishing with
hunger; and as my niece had an excellent appetite we prepared ourselves
for enjoyment, but instead of the dishes being delicate, as we had
expected, they were detestable. I told Clairmont to send for the
landlady, and she said that she could not help it, as everything had been
done by my own cook.

"My cook?" I repeated.

"Yes, sir, the one your secretary, M. Possano, engaged for you. I could
have got a much better one and a much cheaper one myself."

"Get one to-morrow."

"Certainly; but you must rid yourself and me of the present cook, for he
has taken up his position here with his wife and children. Tell Possano
to send for him."

"I will do so, and in the meanwhile do you get me a fresh cook. I will
try him the day after to-morrow."

I escorted my niece into her room, and begged her to go to bed without
troubling about me, and so saying I took up the paper and began to read
it. When I had finished, I went up to bed, and said,

"You might spare me the pain of having to sleep by myself."

She lowered her eyes but said nothing, so I gave her a kiss and left her.

In the morning my fair niece came into my room just as Clairmont was
washing my feet, and begged me to let her have some coffee as chocolate
made her hot. I told my man to go and fetch some coffee, and as soon as
he was gone she went down on her knees and would have wiped my feet.

"I cannot allow that, my dear young lady."

"Why not? it is a mark of friendship."

"That may be, but such marks cannot be given to anyone but your lover
without your degrading yourself."

She got up and sat down on a chair quietly, but saying nothing.

Clairmont came back again, and I proceeded with my toilette.

The landlady came in with our breakfast, and asked my niece if she would
like to buy a fine silk shawl made in the Genoese fashion. I did not let
her be confused by having to answer, but told the landlady to let us see
it. Soon after the milliner came in, but by that time I had given my
young friend twenty Genoese sequins, telling her that she might use them
for her private wants. She took the money, thanking me with much grace,
and letting me imprint a delicious kiss on her lovely lips.

I had sent away the milliner after having bought the shawl, when Possano
took it upon himself to remonstrate with me in the matter of the cook.

"I engaged the man by your orders," said he, "for the whole time you
stayed at Genoa, at four francs a day, with board and lodging."

"Where is my letter?"

"Here it is: 'Get me a good cook; I will keep him while I stay in
Genoa.'"

"Perhaps you did not remark the expression, a good cook? Well, this
fellow is a very bad cook; and, at all events, I am the best judge
whether he is good or bad."

"You are wrong, for the man will prove his skill. He will cite you in the
law courts, and win his case."

"Then you have made a formal agreement with him?"

"Certainly; and your letter authorized me to do so."

"Tell him to come up; I want to speak to him."

While Possano was downstairs I told Clairmont to go and fetch me an
advocate. The cook came upstairs, I read the agreement, and I saw that it
was worded in such a manner that I should be in the wrong legally; but I
did not change my mind for all that.

"Sir," said the cook, "I am skilled in my business, and I can get four
thousand Genoese to swear as much."

"That doesn't say much for their good taste; but whatever they may-say,
the execrable supper you gave me last night proves that you are only fit
to keep a low eating-house."

As there is nothing more irritable than the feelings of a culinary
artist, I was expecting a sharp answer; but just then the advocate came
in. He had heard the end of our dialogue, and told me that not only would
the man find plenty of witnesses to his skill, but that I should find a
very great difficulty in getting anybody at all to swear to his want of
skill.

"That may be," I replied, "but as I stick to my own opinion, and think
his cooking horrible, he must go, for I want to get another, and I will
pay that fellow as if he had served me the whole time."

"That won't do," said the cook; "I will summon you before the judge and
demand damages for defamation of character."

At this my bile overpowered me, and I was going to seize him anti throw
him out of the window, when Don Antonio Grimaldi came in. When he heard
what was the matter, he laughed and said, with a shrug of his shoulders,

"My dear sir, you had better not go into court, or you will be cast in
costs, for the evidence is against you. Probably this man makes a slight
mistake in believing himself to be an excellent cook, but the chief
mistake is in the agreement, which ought to have stipulated that he
should cook a trial dinner. The person who drew up the agreement is
either a great knave or a great fool."

At this Possano struck in in his rude way, and told the nobleman that he
was neither knave nor fool.

"But you are cousin to the cook," said the landlady.

This timely remark solved the mystery. I paid and dismissed the advocate,
and having sent the cook out of the room I said,

"Do I