<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<FictionBook xmlns="http://www.gribuser.ru/xml/fictionbook/2.0" xmlns:l="http://www.w3.org/1999/xlink"><description><title-info><author><first-name>Giacomo Casanova</first-name></author><book-title>The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova de Seingalt, 1725-1798. Volume 08: Convent Affairs</book-title><lang>uk</lang></title-info></description><body><section><p>Produced by David Widger</p><p>MEMOIRS OF JACQUES CASANOVA de SEINGALT 1725-1798</p><p>TO PARIS AND PRISON, Volume 2c--Convent Affairs</p><p>THE RARE UNABRIDGED LONDON EDITION OF 1894 TRANSLATED BY ARTHUR MACHEN TO&#13;
WHICH HAS BEEN ADDED THE CHAPTERS DISCOVERED BY ARTHUR SYMONS.</p><p>CONVENT AFFAIRS</p><p>CHAPTER XVI</p><p>Countess Coronini--A Lover's Pique--Reconciliation--The First Meeting--A&#13;
Philosophical Parenthesis</p><p>My beautiful nun had not spoken to me, and I was glad of it, for I was so&#13;
astonished, so completely under the spell of her beauty, that I might&#13;
have given her a very poor opinion of my intelligence by the rambling&#13;
answers which I should very likely have given to her questions. I knew&#13;
her to be certain that she had not to fear the humiliation of a refusal&#13;
from me, but I admired her courage in running the risk of it in her&#13;
position. I could hardly understand her boldness, and I could not&#13;
conceive how she contrived to enjoy so much liberty. A casino at Muran!&#13;
the possibility of going to Venice to sup with a young man! It was all&#13;
very surprising, and I decided in my own mind that she had an&#13;
acknowledged lover whose pleasure it was to make her happy by satisfying&#13;
her caprices. It is true that such a thought was rather unpleasant to my&#13;
pride, but there was too much piquancy in the adventure, the heroine of&#13;
it was too attractive, for me to be stopped by any considerations. I saw&#13;
very well that I was taking the high road to become unfaithful to my dear&#13;
C---- C----, or rather that I was already so in thought and will, but I&#13;
must confess that, in spite of all my love for that charming child, I&#13;
felt no qualms of conscience. It seemed to me that an infidelity of that&#13;
sort, if she ever heard of it, would not displease her, for that short&#13;
excursion on strange ground would only keep me alive and in good&#13;
condition for her, because it would save me from the weariness which was&#13;
surely killing me.</p><p>I had been presented to the celebrated Countess Coronini by a nun, a&#13;
relative of M. Dandolo. That countess, who had been very handsome and was&#13;
very witty, having made up her mind to renounce the political intrigues&#13;
which had been the study of her whole life, had sought a retreat in the&#13;
Convent of St. Justine, in the hope of finding in that refuge the calm&#13;
which she wanted, and which her disgust of society had rendered necessary&#13;
to her. As she had enjoyed a very great reputation, she was still visited&#13;
at the convent by all the foreign ambassadors and by the first noblemen&#13;
of Venice; inside of the walls of her convent the countess was acquainted&#13;
with everything that happened in the city. She always received me very&#13;
kindly, and, treating me as a young man, she took pleasure in giving me,&#13;
every time I called on her, very agreeable lessons in morals. Being quite&#13;
certain to find out from her, with a little manoeuvering, something&#13;
concerning M---- M----, I decided on paying her a visit the day after I&#13;
had seen the beautiful nun.</p><p>The countess gave me her usual welcome, and, after the thousand nothings&#13;
which it is the custom to utter in society before anything worth saying&#13;
is spoken, I led the conversation up to the convents of Venice. We spoke&#13;
of the wit and influence of a nun called Celsi, who, although ugly, had&#13;
an immense credit everywhere and in everything. We mentioned afterwards&#13;
the young and lovely Sister Michali, who had taken the veil to prove to&#13;
her mother that she was superior to her in intelligence and wit. After&#13;
speaking of several other nuns who had the reputation of being addicted&#13;
to gallantry, I named M---- M----, remarking that most likely she deserved&#13;
that reputation likewise, but that she was an enigma. The countess&#13;
answered with a smile that she was not an enigma for everybody, although&#13;
she was necessarily so for most people.</p><p>"What is incomprehensible," she said, "is the caprice that she took&#13;
suddenly to become a nun, being handsome, rich, free, well-educated, full&#13;
of wit, and, to my knowledge, a Free-thinker. She took the veil without&#13;
any reason, physical or moral; it was a mere caprice."</p><p>"Do you believe her to be happy, madam?"</p><p>"Yes, unless she has repented her decision, or if she does not repent it&#13;
some day. But if ever she does, I think she will be wise enough never to&#13;
say so to anyone."</p><p>Satisfied by the mysterious air of the countess that M---- M---- had a&#13;
lover, I made up my mind not to trouble myself about it, and having put&#13;
on my mask I went to Muran in the afternoon. When I reached the gate of&#13;
the convent I rang the bell, and with an anxious heart I asked for&#13;
M---- M---- in the name of Madame de S----. The small parlour being closed,&#13;
the attendant pointed out to me the one in which I had to go. I went in,&#13;
took off my mask, and sat down waiting for my divinity.</p><p>My heart was beating furiously; I was waiting with great impatience; yet&#13;
that expectation was not without charm, for I dreaded the beginning of&#13;
the interview. An hour passed pretty rapidly, but I began then to find&#13;
the time rather long, and thinking that, perhaps, the attendant had not&#13;
rightly understood me, I rang the bell, and enquired whether notice of my&#13;
visit had being given to Sister M---- M----. A voice answered&#13;
affirmatively. I took my seat again, and a few minutes afterwards an old,&#13;
toothless nun came in and informed me that Sister M---- M---- was engaged&#13;
for the whole day. Without giving me time to utter a single word, the&#13;
woman left the parlour. This was one of those terrible moments to which&#13;
the man who worships at the shrine of the god of love is exposed! They&#13;
are indeed cruel moments; they bring fearful sorrow, they may cause&#13;
death.</p><p>Feeling myself disgraced, my first sensation was utter contempt for&#13;
myself, an inward despair which was akin to rage; the second was&#13;
disdainful indignation against the nun, upon whom I passed the severe&#13;
judgment which I thought she deserved, and which was the only way I had&#13;
to soothe my grief. Such behaviour proclaimed her to be the most impudent&#13;
of women, and entirely wanting in good sense; for the two letters she had&#13;
written to me were quite enough to ruin her character if I had wished to&#13;
revenge myself, and she evidently could not expect anything else from me.&#13;
She must have been mad to set at defiance my revengeful feelings, and I&#13;
should certainly have thought that she was insane if I had not heard her&#13;
converse with the countess.</p><p>Time, they say, brings good counsel; it certainly brings calm, and cool&#13;
reflection gives lucidity to the mind. At last I persuaded myself that&#13;
what had occurred was after all in no way extraordinary, and that I would&#13;
certainly have considered it at first a very common occurrence if I had&#13;
not been dazzled by the wonderful beauty of the nun, and blinded by my&#13;
own vanity. As a very natural result I felt that I was at liberty to&#13;
laugh at my mishap, and that nobody could possibly guess whether my mirth&#13;
was genuine or only counterfeit. Sophism is so officious!</p><p>But, in spite of all my fine arguments, I still cherished the thought of&#13;
revenge; no debasing element, however, was to form part of it, and being&#13;
determined not to leave the person who had been guilty of such a bad&#13;
practical joke the slightest cause of triumph, I had the courage not to&#13;
shew any vexation. She had sent word to me that she was engaged; nothing&#13;
more natural; the part I had to play was to appear indifferent. "Most&#13;
likely she will not be engaged another time," I said to myself, "but I&#13;
defy her to catch me in the snare again. I mean to shew her that I only&#13;
laugh at her uncivil behaviour." Of course I intended to send back her&#13;
letters, but not without the accompaniment of a billet-doux, the&#13;
gallantry of which was not likely to please her.</p><p>The worse part of the affair for me was to be compelled to go to her&#13;
church; because, supposing her not to be aware of my going there for&#13;
C---- C----, she might imagine that the only object of my visits was to&#13;
give her the opportunity of apologizing for her conduct and of appointing&#13;
a new meeting. I wanted her to entertain no doubt of my utter contempt&#13;
for her person, and I felt certain that she had proposed the other&#13;
meetings in Venice and at the casino of Muran only to deceive me more&#13;
easily.</p><p>I went to bed with a great thirst for revenge, I fell asleep thinking of&#13;
it, and I awoke with the resolution of quenching it. I began to write,&#13;
but, as I wished particularly that my letter should not show the pique of&#13;
the disappointed lover, I left it on my table with the intention of&#13;
reading it again the next day. It proved a useful precaution, for when I&#13;
read it over, twenty-four hours afterwards, I found it unworthy of me,&#13;
and tore it to pieces. It contained some sentences which savoured too&#13;
much of my weakness, my love, and my spite, and which, far from&#13;
humiliating her, would only have given her occasion to laugh at me.</p><p>On the Wednesday after I had written to C---- C---- that very serious&#13;
reasons compelled me to give up my visits to the church of her convent, I&#13;
wrote another letter to the nun, but on Thursday it had the same fate as&#13;
the first, because upon a second perusal I found the same deficiencies.&#13;
It seemed to me that I had lost the faculty of writing. Ten days&#13;
afterwards I found out that I was too deeply in love to have the power of&#13;
expressing myself in any other way than through the feelings of my heart.</p><p>'Sincerium est nisi vas, quodcunque infundis acescit.'</p><p>The face of M---- M---- had made too deep an impression on me; nothing&#13;
could possibly obliterate it except the all-powerful influence of time.</p><p>In my ridiculous position I was sorely tempted to complain to Countess&#13;
S----; but I am happy to say I was prudent enough not to cross the&#13;
threshold of her door. At last I bethought myself that the giddy nun was&#13;
certainly labouring under constant dread, knowing that I had in my&#13;
possession her two letters, with which I could ruin her reputation and&#13;
cause the greatest injury to the convent, and I sent them back to her&#13;
with the following note, after I had kept them ten days:</p><p>"I can assure you, madam, that it was owing only to forgetfulness that I&#13;
did not return your two letters which you will find enclosed. I have&#13;
never thought of belying my own nature by taking a cowardly revenge upon&#13;
you, and I forgive you most willingly the two giddy acts of which you&#13;
have been guilty, whether they were committed thoughtlessly or because&#13;
you wanted to enjoy a joke at my expense. Nevertheless, you will allow me&#13;
to advise you not to treat any other man in the same way, for you might&#13;
meet with one endowed with less delicacy. I know your name, I know who&#13;
you are, but you need not be anxious; it is exactly as if I did not know&#13;
it. You may, perhaps, care but little for my discretion, but if it should&#13;
be so I should greatly pity you.</p><p>"You may be aware that I shall not shew myself again at your church; but&#13;
let me assure you that it is not a sacrifice on my part, and that I can&#13;
attend mass anywhere else. Yet I must tell you why I shall abstain from&#13;
frequenting the church of your convent. It is very natural for me to&#13;
suppose that to the two thoughtless acts of which you have been guilty,&#13;
you have added another not less serious, namely, that of having boasted&#13;
of your exploits with the other nuns, and I do not want to be the butt of&#13;
your jokes in cell or parlour. Do not think me too ridiculous if, in&#13;
spite of being five or six years older than you, I have not thrown off&#13;
all feelings of self-respect, or trodden under, my feet all reserve and&#13;
propriety; in one word, if I have kept some prejudices, there are a few&#13;
which in my opinion ought never to be forgotten. Do not disdain, madam,&#13;
the lesson which I take the liberty to teach you, as I receive in the&#13;
kindest spirit the one which you have given me, most likely only for the&#13;
sake of fun, but by which I promise you to profit as long as I live."</p><p>I thought that, considering all circumstances, my letter was a very&#13;
genial one; I made up my parcel, put on my mask, and looked out for a&#13;
porter who could have no knowledge of me; I gave him half a sequin, and I&#13;
promised him as much more when he could assure me that he had faithfully&#13;
delivered my letter at the convent of Muran. I gave him all the necessary&#13;
instructions, and cautioned him to go away the very moment he had&#13;
delivered the letter at the gate of the convent, even if he were told to&#13;
wait. I must say here that my messenger was a man from Forli, and that&#13;
the Forlanese were then the most trustworthy men in Venice; for one of&#13;
them to be guilty of a breach of trust was an unheard-of thing. Such men&#13;
were formerly the Savoyards, in Paris; but everything is getting worse in&#13;
this world.</p><p>I was beginning to forget the adventure, probably because I thought,&#13;
rightly or wrongly, that I had put an insurmountable barrier between the&#13;
nun and myself, when, ten days after I had sent my letter, as I was&#13;
coming out of the opera, I met my messenger, lantern in hand. I called&#13;
him, and without taking off my mask I asked him whether he knew me. He&#13;
looked at me, eyed me from head to foot, and finally answered that he did&#13;
not.</p><p>"Did you faithfully carry the message to Muran?"</p><p>"Ah, sir! God be praised! I am very happy to see you again, for I have an&#13;
important communication to make to you. I took your letter, delivered it&#13;
according to your instructions, and I went away as soon as it was in the&#13;
hands of the attendant, although she requested me to wait. When I&#13;
returned from Muran I did not see you, but that did not matter. On the&#13;
following day, one of my companions, who happened to be at the gate of&#13;
the convent when I delivered your letter, came early in the morning to&#13;
tell me to go to Muran, because the attendant wanted particularly to&#13;
speak to me. I went there, and after waiting for a few minutes I was&#13;
shewn into the parlour, where I was kept for more than an hour by a nun&#13;
as beautiful as the light of day, who asked me a thousand questions for&#13;
the purpose of ascertaining, if not who you are, at least where I should&#13;
be likely to find you. You know that I could not give her any&#13;
satisfactory information. She then left the parlour, ordering me to wait,&#13;
and at the end of two hours she came back with a letter which she&#13;
entrusted to my hands, telling me that, if I succeeded in finding you out&#13;
and in bringing her an answer, she would give me two sequins. In the mean&#13;
time I was to call at the convent every day, shew her the letter, and&#13;
receive forty sons every time. Until now I have earned twenty crowns, but&#13;
I am afraid the lady will get tired of it, and you can make me earn two&#13;
sequins by answering a line."</p><p>"Where is the letter?"</p><p>"In my room under lock and key, for I am always afraid of losing it."</p><p>"Then how can I answer?"</p><p>"If you will wait for me here, you shall have the letter in less than a&#13;
quarter of an hour."</p><p>"I will not wait, because I do not care about the letter. But tell me how&#13;
you could flatter the nun with the hope of finding me out? You are a&#13;
rogue, for it is not likely that she would have trusted you with the&#13;
letter if you had not promised her to find me."</p><p>"I am not a rogue, for I have done faithfully what you told me; but it is&#13;
true that I gave her a description of your coat, your buckles, and your&#13;
figure, and I can assure you that for the last ten days I have examined&#13;
all the masks who are about your size, but in vain. Now I recognize your&#13;
buckles, but I do not think you have the same coat. Alas, sir! it will&#13;
not cost you much to write only one line. Be kind enough to wait for me&#13;
in the coffee-house close by."</p><p>I could not resist my curiosity any longer, and I made up my mind not to&#13;
wait for him but to accompany him as far as his house. I had only to&#13;
write, "I have received the letter," and my curiosity was gratified and&#13;
the Forlanese earned his two sequins. I could afterwards change my&#13;
buckles and my mask, and thus set all enquiries at defiance.</p><p>I therefore followed him to his door; he went in and brought me the&#13;
letter. I took him to an inn, where I asked for a room with a good fire,&#13;
and I told my man to wait. I broke the seal of the parcel--a rather large&#13;
one, and the first papers that I saw were the two letters which I had&#13;
sent back to her in order to allay her anxiety as to the possible&#13;
consequences of her giddiness.</p><p>The sight of these letters caused me such a palpitation of the heart that&#13;
I was compelled to sit down: it was a most evident sign of my defeat.&#13;
Besides these two letters I found a third one signed "S." and addressed&#13;
to M---- M----. I read the following lines:</p><p>"The mask who accompanied me back to my house would not, I believe, have&#13;
uttered a single word, if I had not told him that the charms of your&#13;
witty mind were even more bewitching than those of your person; and his&#13;
answer was, 'I have seen the one, and I believe in the other.' I added&#13;
that I did not understand why you had not spoken to him, and he said,&#13;
with a smile, 'I refused to be presented to her, and she punished me for&#13;
it by not appearing to know that I was present.' These few words were all&#13;
our dialogue. I intended to send you this note this morning, but found it&#13;
impossible. Adieu."</p><p>After reading this note, which stated the exact truth, and which could be&#13;
considered as proof, my heart began to beat less quickly. Delighted at&#13;
seeing myself on the point of being convicted of injustice, I took&#13;
courage, and I read the following letter:</p><p>"Owing to an excusable weakness, feeling curious to know what you would&#13;
say about me to the countess after you had seen me, I took an opportunity&#13;
of asking her to let me know all you said to her on the following day at&#13;
latest, for I foresaw that you would pay me a visit in the afternoon. Her&#13;
letter, which I enclose, and which I beg you to read, did not reach me&#13;
till half an hour after you had left the convent.</p><p>"This was the first fatality.</p><p>"Not having received that letter when you called, I had not the courage&#13;
to see you. This absurd weakness on my part was the second fatality, but&#13;
the weakness you will; I hope; forgive. I gave orders to the lay-sister&#13;
to tell you that I was ill for the whole day; a very legitimate excuse;&#13;
whether true or false, for it was an officious untruth, the correction of&#13;
which, was to be found in the words: for the whole day. You had already&#13;
left the convent, and I could not possibly send anyone to run after you,&#13;
when the old fool informed me of her having told you that I was engaged.</p><p>"This was the third fatality.</p><p>"You cannot imagine what I had a mind to do and to say to that foolish&#13;
sister; but here one must say or do nothing; one must be patient and&#13;
dissemble, thanking God when mistakes are the result of ignorance and not&#13;
of wickedness--a very common thing in convents. I foresaw at once, at&#13;
least partly; what would happen; and what has actually, happened; for no&#13;
reasonable being could, I believe, have foreseen it all. I guessed that,&#13;
thinking yourself the victim of a joke, you would be incensed, and I felt&#13;
miserable, for I did not see any way of letting you know the truth before&#13;
the following Sunday. My heart longed ardently for that day. Could I&#13;
possibly imagine that you, would take a resolution not to come again to&#13;
our church! I tried to be patient until that Sunday; but when I found&#13;
myself disappointed in my hope, my misery became unbearable, and it will&#13;
cause my death if you refuse to listen to my justification. Your letter&#13;
has made me completely unhappy, and I shall not resist my despair if you&#13;
persist in the cruel resolve expressed by your unfeeling letter. You have&#13;
considered yourself trifled with; that is all you can say; but will this&#13;
letter convince you of your error? And even believing yourself deceived&#13;
in the most scandalous manner, you must admit that to write such an awful&#13;
letter you must have supposed me an abominable wretch--a monster, such as&#13;
a woman of noble birth and of refined education cannot possibly be. I&#13;
enclose the two letters you sent back to me, with the idea of allaying my&#13;
fears which you cruelly supposed very different to what they are in&#13;
reality. I am a better physiognomist than you, and you must be quite&#13;
certain that I have not acted thoughtlessly, for I never thought you&#13;
capable, I will not say of crime, but even of an indelicate action. You&#13;
must have read on my features the signs only of giddy impudence, and that&#13;
is not my nature. You may be the cause of my death, you will certainly&#13;
make me miserable for the remainder of my life, if you do not justify&#13;
yourself; on my side I think the justification is complete.</p><p>"I hope that, even if you feel no interest in my life, you will think&#13;
that you are bound in honour to come and speak to me. Come yourself to&#13;
recall all you have written; it is your duty, and I deserve it. If you do&#13;
not realize the fatal effect produced upon me by your letter, I must&#13;
indeed pity you, in spite of my misery, for it proves that you have not&#13;
the slightest knowledge of the human heart. But I feel certain that you&#13;
will come back, provided the man to whom I trust this letter contrives to&#13;
find you. Adieu! I expect life or death from you."</p><p>I did not require to read that letter twice; I was ashamed and in&#13;
despair. M---- M---- was right. I called the Forlanese, enquired from him&#13;
whether he had spoken to her in the morning, and whether she looked ill.&#13;
He answered that he had found her looking more unhappy every day, and&#13;
that her eyes were red from weeping.</p><p>"Go down again and wait," I said to him.</p><p>I began to write, and I had not concluded my long screed before the dawn&#13;
of day; here are, word by word, the contents of the letter which I wrote&#13;
to the noblest of women, whom in my unreasonable spite I had judged so&#13;
wrongly.</p><p>"I plead guilty, madam; I cannot possibly justify myself, and I am&#13;
perfectly convinced of your innocence. I should be disconsolate if I did&#13;
not hope to obtain pardon, and you will not refuse to forgive me if you&#13;
are kind enough to recollect the cause of my guilt. I saw you; I was&#13;
dazzled, and I could not realize a happiness which seemed to me a dream;&#13;
I thought myself the prey of one of those delightful illusions which&#13;
vanish when we wake up. The doubt under which I was labouring could not&#13;
be cleared up for twenty-four hours, and how could I express my feverish&#13;
impatience as I was longing for that happy moment! It came at last! and&#13;
my heart, throbbing with desire and hope, was flying towards you while I&#13;
was in the parlour counting the minutes! Yet an hour passed almost&#13;
rapidly, and not unnaturally, considering my impatience and the deep&#13;
impression I felt at the idea of seeing you. But then, precisely at the&#13;
very moment when I believed myself certain that I was going to gaze upon&#13;
the beloved features which had been in one interview indelibly engraved&#13;
upon my heart, I saw the most disagreeable face appear, and a creature&#13;
announced that you were engaged for the whole day, and without giving me&#13;
time to utter one word she disappeared! You may imagine my astonishment&#13;
and... the rest. The lightning would not have produced upon me a more&#13;
rapid, a more terrible effect! If you had sent me a line by that&#13;
sister--a line from your hand--I would have gone away, if not pleased, at&#13;
least submissive and resigned.</p><p>"But that was a fourth fatality which you have forgotten to add to your&#13;
delightful and witty justification. Thinking myself scoffed at, my&#13;
self-love rebelled, and indignation for the moment silenced love. Shame&#13;
overwhelmed me! I thought that everybody could read on my face all the&#13;
horror in my heart, and I saw in you, under the outward appearance of an&#13;
angel, nothing but a fearful daughter of the Prince of Darkness. My mind&#13;
was thoroughly upset, and at the end of eleven days I lost the small&#13;
portion of good sense that was left in me--at least I must suppose so, as&#13;
it is then that I wrote to you the letter of which you have so good a&#13;
right to complain, and which at that time seemed to me a masterpiece of&#13;
moderation.</p><p>"But I hope it is all over now, and this very day at eleven o'clock you&#13;
will see me at your feet--tender, submissive and repentant. You will&#13;
forgive me, divine woman, or I will myself avenge you for the insult I&#13;
have hurled at you. The only thing which I dare to ask from you as a&#13;
great favour is to burn my first letter, and never to mention it again. I&#13;
sent it only after I had written four, which I destroyed one after the&#13;
other: you may therefore imagine the state of my heart.</p><p>"I have given orders to my messenger to go to your convent at once, so&#13;
that my letter can be delivered to you as soon as you wake in the&#13;
morning. He would never have discovered me, if my good angel had not made&#13;
me go up to him at the door of the opera-house. But I shall not require&#13;
his services any more; do not answer me, and receive all the devotion of&#13;
a heart which adores you."</p><p>When my letter was finished, I called my Forlanese, gave him one sequin,&#13;
and I made him promise me to go to Muran immediately, and to deliver my&#13;
letter only to the nun herself. As soon as he had gone I threw myself on&#13;
my bed, but anxiety and burning impatience would not allow me to sleep.</p><p>I need not tell the reader who knows the state of excitement under which&#13;
I was labouring, that I was punctual in presenting myself at the convent.&#13;
I was shewn into the small parlour where I had seen her for the first&#13;
time, and she almost immediately made her entrance. As soon as I saw her&#13;
near the grating I fell on my knees, but she entreated me to rise at once&#13;
as I might be seen. Her face was flushed with excitement, and her looks&#13;
seemed to me heavenly. She sat down, and I took a seat opposite to her.&#13;
We remained several minutes motionless, gazing at each other without&#13;
speaking, but I broke the silence by asking her, in a voice full of love&#13;
and anxiety, whether I could hope to obtain my pardon. She gave me her&#13;
beautiful hand through the grating, and I covered it with tears and&#13;
kisses.</p><p>"Our acquaintance," she said, "has begun with a violent storm; let us&#13;
hope that we shall now enjoy it long in perfect and lasting calm. This is&#13;
the first time that we speak to one another, but what has occurred must&#13;
be enough to give us a thorough knowledge of each other. I trust that our&#13;
intimacy will be as tender as sincere, and that we shall know how to have&#13;
a mutual indulgence for our faults."</p><p>"Can such an angel as you have any?"</p><p>"Ah, my friend! who is without them?"</p><p>"When shall I have the happiness of convincing you of my devotion with&#13;
complete freedom and in all the joy of my heart?"</p><p>"We will take supper together at my casino whenever you please, provided&#13;
you give me notice two days beforehand; or I will go and sup with you in&#13;
Venice, if it will not disturb your arrangements."</p><p>"It would only increase my happiness. I think it right to tell you that I&#13;
am in very easy circumstances, and that, far from fearing expense, I&#13;
delight in it: all I possess belongs to the woman I love."</p><p>"That confidence, my dear friend, is very agreeable to me, the more so&#13;
that I have likewise to tell you that I am very rich, and that I could&#13;
not refuse anything to my lover."</p><p>"But you must have a lover?"</p><p>"Yes; it is through him that I am rich, and he is entirely my master. I&#13;
never conceal anything from him. The day after to-morrow, when I am alone&#13;
with you, I will tell you more."</p><p>"But I hope that your lover...."</p><p>"Will not be there? Certainly not. Have you a mistress?"</p><p>"I had one, but, alas! she has been taken from me by violent means, and&#13;
for the last six months I have led a life of complete celibacy."</p><p>"Do you love her still?"</p><p>"I cannot think of her without loving her. She has almost as great&#13;
charms, as great beauty, as you have; but I foresee that you will make me&#13;
forget her."</p><p>"If your happiness with her was complete, I pity you. She has been&#13;
violently taken from you, and you shun society in order to feed your&#13;
sorrow. I have guessed right, have I not? But if I happen to take&#13;
possession of her place in your heart, no one, my sweet friend, shall&#13;
turn me out of it."</p><p>"But what will your lover say?"</p><p>"He will be delighted to see me happy with such a lover as you. It is in&#13;
his nature."</p><p>"What an admirable nature! Such heroism is quite beyond me!"</p><p>"What sort of a life do you lead in Venice?"</p><p>"I live at the theatres, in society, in the casinos, where I fight&#13;
against fortune sometimes with good sometimes with bad success."</p><p>"Do you visit the foreign ambassadors?"</p><p>"No, because I am too much acquainted with the nobility; but I know them&#13;
all."</p><p>"How can you know them if you do not see them?"</p><p>"I have known them abroad. In Parma the Duke de Montalegre, the Spanish&#13;
ambassador; in Vienna I knew Count Rosemberg; in Paris, about two years&#13;
ago, the French ambassador."</p><p>"It is near twelve o'clock, my dear friend; it is time for us to part.&#13;
Come at the same hour the day after tomorrow, and I will give you all the&#13;
instructions which you will require to enable you to come and sup with&#13;
me."</p><p>"Alone?"</p><p>"Of course."</p><p>"May I venture to ask you for a pledge? The happiness which you promise&#13;
me is so immense!"</p><p>"What pledge do you want?"</p><p>"To see you standing before that small window in the grating with&#13;
permission for me to occupy the same place as Madame de S----."</p><p>She rose at once, and, with the most gracious smile, touched the spring;&#13;
after a most expressive kiss, I took leave of her. She followed me with&#13;
her eyes as far as the door, and her loving gaze would have rooted me to&#13;
the spot if she had not left the room.</p><p>I spent the two days of expectation in a whirl of impatient joy, which&#13;
prevented me from eating and sleeping; for it seemed to me that no other&#13;
love had ever given me such happiness, or rather that I was going to be&#13;
happy for the first time.</p><p>Irrespective of birth, beauty, and wit, which was the principal merit of&#13;
my new conquest, prejudice was there to enhance a hundredfold my&#13;
felicity, for she was a vestal: it was forbidden fruit, and who does not&#13;
know that, from Eve down to our days, it was that fruit which has always&#13;
appeared the most delicious! I was on the point of encroaching upon the&#13;
rights of an all-powerful husband; in my eyes M---- M---- was above all the&#13;
queens of the earth.</p><p>If my reason had not been the slave of passion, I should have known that&#13;
my nun could not be a different creature from all the pretty women whom I&#13;
had loved for the thirteen years that I had been labouring in the fields&#13;
of love. But where is the man in love who can harbour such a thought? If&#13;
it presents itself too often to his mind, he expels it disdainfully!&#13;
M---- M---- could not by any means be otherwise than superior to all other&#13;
women in the wide world.</p><p>Animal nature, which chemists call the animal kingdom, obtains through&#13;
instinct the three various means necessary for the perpetuation of its&#13;
species.</p><p>There are three real wants which nature has implanted in all human&#13;
creatures. They must feed themselves, and to prevent that task from being&#13;
insipid and tedious they have the agreeable sensation of appetite, which&#13;
they feel pleasure in satisfying. They must propagate their respective&#13;
species; an absolute necessity which proves the wisdom of the Creator,&#13;
since without reproduction all would, be annihilated--by the constant law&#13;
of degradation, decay and death. And, whatever St. Augustine may say,&#13;
human creatures would not perform the work of generation if they did not&#13;
find pleasure in it, and if there was not in that great work an&#13;
irresistible attraction for them. In the third place, all creatures have&#13;
a determined and invincible propensity to destroy their enemies; and it&#13;
is certainly a very wise ordination, for that feeling of&#13;
self-preservation makes it a duty for them to do their best for the&#13;
destruction of whatever can injure them.</p><p>Each species obeys these laws in its own way. The three sensations:&#13;
hunger, desire, and hatred--are in animals the satisfaction of habitual&#13;
instinct, and cannot be called pleasures, for they can be so only in&#13;
proportion to the intelligence of the individual. Man alone is gifted&#13;
with the perfect organs which render real pleasure peculiar to him;&#13;
because, being, endowed with the sublime faculty of reason, he foresees&#13;
enjoyment, looks for it, composes, improves, and increases it by thought&#13;
and recollection. I entreat you, dear reader, not to get weary of&#13;
following me in my ramblings; for now that I am but the shadow of the&#13;
once brilliant Casanova, I love to chatter; and if you were to give me&#13;
the slip, you would be neither polite nor obliging.</p><p>Man comes down to the level of beasts whenever he gives himself up to the&#13;
three natural propensities without calling reason and judgment to his&#13;
assistance; but when the mind gives perfect equilibrium to those&#13;
propensities, the sensations derived from them become true enjoyment, an&#13;
unaccountable feeling which gives us what is called happiness, and which&#13;
we experience without being able to describe it.</p><p>The voluptuous man who reasons, disdains greediness, rejects with&#13;
contempt lust and lewdness, and spurns the brutal revenge which is caused&#13;
by a first movement of anger: but he is dainty, and satisfies his&#13;
appetite only in a manner in harmony with his nature and his tastes; he&#13;
is amorous, but he enjoys himself with the object of his love only when&#13;
he is certain that she will share his enjoyment, which can never be the&#13;
case unless their love is mutual; if he is offended, he does not care for&#13;
revenge until he has calmly considered the best means to enjoy it fully.&#13;
If he is sometimes more cruel than necessary, he consoles himself with&#13;
the idea that he has acted under the empire of reason; and his revenge is&#13;
sometimes so noble that he finds it in forgiveness. Those three&#13;
operations are the work of the soul which, to procure enjoyment for&#13;
itself, becomes the agent of our passions. We sometimes suffer from&#13;
hunger in order to enjoy better the food which will allay it; we delay&#13;
the amorous enjoyment for the sake of making it more intense, and we put&#13;
off the moment of our revenge in order to mike it more certain. It is&#13;
true, however, that one may die from indigestion, that we allow ourselves&#13;
to be often deceived in love, and that the creature we want to annihilate&#13;
often escapes our revenge; but perfection cannot be attained in anything,&#13;
and those are risks which we run most willingly.</p><p>CHAPTER XVII</p><p>Continuation of the Last Chapter--My First Assignation With M. M.--Letter&#13;
From C. C.--My Second Meeting With the Nun At My Splendid Casino In&#13;
Venice I Am Happy</p><p>There is nothing, there can be nothing, dearer to a thinking being than&#13;
life; yet the voluptuous men, those who try to enjoy it in the best&#13;
manner, are the men who practise with the greatest perfection the&#13;
difficult art of shortening life, of driving it fast. They do not mean to&#13;
make it shorter, for they would like to perpetuate it in the midst of&#13;
pleasure, but they wish enjoyment to render its course insensible; and&#13;
they are right, provided they do not fail in fulfilling their duties. Man&#13;
must not, however, imagine that he has no other duties but those which&#13;
gratify his senses; he would be greatly mistaken, and he might fall the&#13;
victim of his own error. I think that my friend Horace made a mistake&#13;
when he said to Florus:</p><p>'Nec metuam quid de me judicet heres, Quod non plura datis inveniet.'</p><p>The happiest man is the one who knows how to obtain the greatest sum of&#13;
happiness without ever failing in the discharge of his duties, and the&#13;
most unhappy is the man who has adopted a profession in which he finds&#13;
himself constantly under the sad necessity of foreseeing the future.</p><p>Perfectly certain that M---- M---- would keep her word, I went to the&#13;
convent at ten o'clock in the morning, and she joined me in the parlour&#13;
as soon as I was announced.</p><p>"Good heavens!" she exclaimed, "are you ill?"</p><p>"No, but I may well look so, for the expectation of happiness wears me&#13;
out. I have lost sleep and appetite, and if my felicity were to be&#13;
deferred my life would be the forfeit."</p><p>"There shall be no delay, dearest; but how impatient you are! Let us sit&#13;
down. Here is the key of my casino. You will find some persons in it,&#13;
because we must be served; but nobody will speak to you, and you need not&#13;
speak to anyone. You must be masked, and you must not go there till two&#13;
hours after sunset; mind, not before. Then go up the stairs opposite the&#13;
street-door, and at the top of those stairs you will see, by the light of&#13;
a lamp, a green door which you will open to enter the apartment which you&#13;
will find lighted. You will find me in the second room, and in case I&#13;
should not be there you will wait for me a few minutes; you may rely upon&#13;
my being punctual. You can take off your mask in that room, and make&#13;
yourself comfortable; you will find some books and a good fire."</p><p>The description could not be clearer; I kissed the hand which was giving&#13;
me the key of that mysterious temple, and I enquired from the charming&#13;
woman whether I should see her in her conventual garb.</p><p>"I always leave the convent with it," she said, "but I have at the casino&#13;
a complete wardrobe to transform myself into an elegant woman of the&#13;
world, and even to disguise myself."</p><p>"I hope you will do me the favour to remain in the dress of a nun."</p><p>"Why so, I beg?"</p><p>"I love to see you in that dress."</p><p>"Ah! ah! I understand. You fancy that my head is shaved, and you are&#13;
afraid. But comfort yourself, dear friend, my wig is so beautifully made&#13;
that it defies detection; it is nature itself."</p><p>"Oh, dear! what are you saying? The very name of wig is awful. But no,&#13;
you may be certain that I will find you lovely under all circumstances. I&#13;
only entreat you not to put on that cruel wig in my presence. Do I offend&#13;
you? Forgive me; I am very sorry to have mentioned that subject. Are you&#13;
sure that no one can see you leave the convent?"</p><p>"You will be sure of it yourself when you have gone round the island and&#13;
seen the small door on the shore. I have the key of a room opening on the&#13;
shore, and I have every confidence in the sister who serves me."</p><p>"And the gondola?"</p><p>"My lover himself answers for the fidelity of the gondoliers."</p><p>"What a man that lover is! I fancy he must be an old man."</p><p>"You are mistaken; if he were old, I should be ashamed. He is not forty,&#13;
and he has everything necessary to be loved--beauty, wit, sweet temper,&#13;
and noble behaviour."</p><p>"And he forgives your amorous caprices?"</p><p>"What do you mean by caprices? A year ago he obtained possession of me,&#13;
and before him I had never belonged to a man; you are the first who&#13;
inspired me with a fancy. When I confessed it to him he was rather&#13;
surprised, then he laughed, and read me a short lecture upon the risk I&#13;
was running in trusting a man who might prove indiscreet. He wanted me to&#13;
know at least who you were before going any further, but it was too late.&#13;
I answered for your discretion, and of course I made him laugh by my&#13;
being so positively the guarantee of a man whom I did not know."</p><p>"When did you confide in him?"</p><p>"The day before yesterday, and without concealing anything from him. I&#13;
have shewn him my letters and yours; he thinks you are a Frenchman,&#13;
although you represent yourself as a Venetian. He is very curious to know&#13;
who you are, but you need not be afraid; I promise you faithfully never&#13;
to take any steps to find it out myself."</p><p>"And I promise you likewise not to try to find out who is this wonderful&#13;
man as wonderful as you are yourself. I am very miserable when I think of&#13;
the sorrow I have caused you."</p><p>"Do not mention that subject any more; when I consider the matter, I see&#13;
that only a conceited man would have acted differently."</p><p>Before leaving her, she granted me another token of her affection through&#13;
the little window, and her gaze followed me as far as the door.</p><p>In the evening, at the time named by her, I repaired to the casino, and&#13;
obeying all her instructions I reached a sitting-room in which I found my&#13;
new conquest dressed in a most elegant costume. The room was lighted up&#13;
by girandoles, which were reflected by the looking-glasses, and by four&#13;
splendid candlesticks placed on a table covered with books.&#13;
M---- M---- struck me as entirely different in her beauty to what she had&#13;
seemed in the garb of a nun. She wore no cap, and her hair was fastened&#13;
behind in a thick twist; but I passed rapidly over that part of her&#13;
person, because I could not bear the idea of a wig, and I could not&#13;
compliment her about it. I threw myself at her feet to shew her my deep&#13;
gratitude, and I kissed with rapture her beautiful hands, waiting&#13;
impatiently for the amorous contest which I was longing for; but&#13;
M---- M---- thought fit to oppose some resistance. Oh, how sweet they are!&#13;
those denials of a loving mistress, who delays the happy moment only for&#13;
the sake of enjoying its delights better! As a lover respectful, tender,&#13;
but bold, enterprising, certain of victory, I blended delicately the&#13;
gentleness of my proceedings with the ardent fire which was consuming me;&#13;
and stealing the most voluptuous kisses from the most beautiful mouth I&#13;
felt as if my soul would burst from my body. We spent two hours in the&#13;
preliminary contest, at the end of which we congratulated one another, on&#13;
her part for having contrived to resist, on mine for having controlled my&#13;
impatience.</p><p>Wanting a little rest, and understanding each other as if by a natural&#13;
instinct, she said to me,</p><p>"My friend, I have an appetite which promises to do honour to the supper;&#13;
are you able to keep me good company?"</p><p>"Yes," I said, knowing well what I could do in that line, "yes, I can;&#13;
and afterwards you shall judge whether I am able to sacrifice to Love as&#13;
well as to Comus."</p><p>She rang the bell, and a woman, middle-aged but well-dressed and&#13;
respectable-looking, laid out a table for two persons; she then placed on&#13;
another table close by all that was necessary to enable us to do without&#13;
attendance, and she brought, one after the other, eight different dishes&#13;
in Sevres porcelain placed on silver heaters. It was a delicate and&#13;
plentiful supper.</p><p>When I tasted the first dish I at once recognized the French style of&#13;
cooking, and she did not deny it. We drank nothing but Burgundy and&#13;
Champagne. She dressed the salad cleverly and quickly, and in everything&#13;
she did I had to admire the graceful ease of her manners. It was evident&#13;
that she owed her education to a lover who was a first-rate connoisseur.&#13;
I was curious to know him, and as we were drinking some punch I told her&#13;
that if she would gratify my curiosity in that respect I was ready to&#13;
tell her my name.</p><p>"Let time, dearest," she answered, "satisfy our mutual curiosity."</p><p>M---- M---- had, amongst the charms and trinkets fastened to the chain of&#13;
her watch, a small crystal bottle exactly similar to one that I wore&#13;
myself. I called her attention to that fact, and as mine was filled with&#13;
cotton soaked in otto of roses I made her smell it.</p><p>"I have the same," she observed.</p><p>And she made me inhale its fragrance.</p><p>"It is a very scarce perfume," I said, "and very expensive."</p><p>"Yes; in fact it cannot be bought."</p><p>"Very true; the inventor of that essence wears a crown; it is the King of&#13;
France; his majesty made a pound of it, which cost him thirty thousand&#13;
crowns."</p><p>"Mine was a gift presented to my lover, and he gave it to me:"</p><p>"Madame de Pompadour sent a small phial of it to M. de Mocenigo, the&#13;
Venetian ambassador in Paris, through M. de B----, now French ambassador&#13;
here."</p><p>"Do you know him?"</p><p>"I have had the honour to dine with him on the very day he came to take&#13;
leave of the ambassador by whom I had been invited. M. de B---- is a man&#13;
whom fortune has smiled upon, but he has captivated it by his merit; he&#13;
is not less distinguished by his 'talents than by his birth; he is, I&#13;
believe, Count de Lyon. I recollect that he was nicknamed 'Belle Babet,'&#13;
on account of his handsome face. There is a small collection of poetry&#13;
written by him which does him great honour."</p><p>It was near midnight; we had made an excellent supper, and we were near a&#13;
good fire. Besides, I was in love with a beautiful woman, and thinking&#13;
that time was precious--I became very pressing; but she resisted.</p><p>"Cruel darling, have you promised me happiness only to make me suffer the&#13;
tortures of Tantalus? If you will not give way to love, at least obey the&#13;
laws of nature after such a delicious supper, go to bed."</p><p>"Are you sleepy?"</p><p>"Of course I am not; but it is late enough to go to bed. Allow me to&#13;
undress you; I will remain by your bedside, or even go away if you wish&#13;
it."</p><p>"If you were to leave me, you would grieve me."</p><p>"My grief would be as great as yours, believe me, but if I remain what&#13;
shall we do?"</p><p>"We can lie down in our clothes on this sofa."</p><p>"With our clothes! Well, let it be so; I will let you sleep, if you wish&#13;
it; but you must forgive me if I do not sleep myself; for to sleep near&#13;
you and without undressing would be impossible."</p><p>"Wait a little."</p><p>She rose from her seat, turned the sofa crosswise, opened it, took out&#13;
pillows, sheets, blankets, and in one minute we had a splendid bed, wide&#13;
and convenient. She took a large handkerchief, which she wrapped round my&#13;
head, and she gave me another, asking me to render her the same service.&#13;
I began my task, dissembling my disgust for the wig, but a precious&#13;
discovery caused me the most agreeable surprise; for, instead of the wig,&#13;
my hands found the most magnificent hair I had ever seen. I uttered a&#13;
scream of delight and admiration which made her laugh, and she told me&#13;
that a nun was under no other obligation than to conceal her hair, from&#13;
the uninitiated. Thereupon she pushed me adroitly, and made me fall' an&#13;
the sofa. I got up again, and, having thrown off my clothes as quick as&#13;
lightning I threw myself on her rather than near her. She was very&#13;
strong; and folding me in her arms she thought that I ought to forgive&#13;
her for all the torture she was condemning me to. I had not obtained any&#13;
essential favour; I was burning, but I was trying to master my&#13;
impatience, for I did not think that I had yet the right to be exacting.&#13;
I contrived to undo five or six bows of ribbons, and satisfied, with her&#13;
not opposing any resistance in that quarter my heart throbbed with&#13;
pleasure, and I possessed myself of the most beautiful bosom, which I&#13;
smothered under my kisses. But her favours went no further; and my&#13;
excitement increasing in proportion to the new perfections I discovered&#13;
in her, I doubled my efforts; all in vain. At last, compelled to give way&#13;
to fatigue, I fell asleep in her arms, holding her tightly, against me. A&#13;
noisy chime of bells woke us.</p><p>"What is the matter?" I exclaimed.</p><p>"Let us get up, dearest; it is time for me to return to the convent."</p><p>"Dress yourself, and let me have the pleasure of seeing you in the garb&#13;
of a saint, since you are going away a virgin."</p><p>"Be satisfied for this time, dearest, and learn from me how to practice&#13;
abstinence; we shall be happier another time. When I have gone, if you&#13;
have nothing to hurry you, you can rest here."</p><p>She rang the bell, and the same woman who had appeared in the evening,&#13;
and was most likely the secret minister and the confidante of her amorous&#13;
mysteries, came in. After her hair had been dressed, she took off her&#13;
gown, locked up her jewellery in her bureau, put on the stays of a nun,&#13;
in which she hid the two magnificent globes which had been during that&#13;
fatiguing night the principal agents of my happiness, and assumed her&#13;
monastic robes. The woman having gone out to call the gondoliers,&#13;
M---- M---- kissed me warmly and tenderly, and said to me,</p><p>"I expect to see you the day after to-morrow, so as to hear from you&#13;
which night I am to meet you in Venice; and then, my beloved lover, you&#13;
shall be happy and I too. Farewell."</p><p>Pleased without being satisfied, I went to bed and slept soundly until&#13;
noon.</p><p>I left the casino without seeing anyone, and being well masked I repaired&#13;
to the house of Laura, who gave me a letter from my dear C---- C----. Here&#13;
is a copy of it:</p><p>"I am going to give you, my best beloved, a specimen of my way of&#13;
thinking; and I trust that, far from lowering me in your estimation, you&#13;
will judge me, in spite of my youth, capable of keeping a secret and&#13;
worthy of being your wife. Certain that your heart is mine, I do not&#13;
blame you for having made a mystery of certain things, and not being&#13;
jealous of what can divert your mind and help you to bear patiently our&#13;
cruel separation, I can only delight in whatever procures you some&#13;
pleasure. Listen now. Yesterday, as I was going along one of the halls, I&#13;
dropped a tooth-pick which I held in my hand, and to get it again, I was&#13;
compelled to displace a stool which happened to be in front of a crack in&#13;
the partition. I have already become as curious as a nun--a fault very&#13;
natural to idle people--I placed my eye against the small opening, and&#13;
whom did I see? You in person, my darling, conversing in the most lively&#13;
manner with my charming friend, Sister M---- M----. It would be difficult&#13;
for you to imagine my surprise and joy. But those two feelings gave way&#13;
soon to the fear of being seen and of exciting the curiosity of some&#13;
inquisitive nun. I quickly replaced the stool, and I went away. Tell me&#13;
all, dearest friend, you will make me happy. How could I cherish you with&#13;
all my soul, and not be anxious to know the history of your adventure?&#13;
Tell me if she knows you, and how you have made her acquaintance. She is&#13;
my best friend, the one of whom I have spoken so often to you in my&#13;
letters, without thinking it necessary to tell you her name. She is the&#13;
friend who teaches me French, and has lent me books which gave me a great&#13;
deal of information on a matter generally little known to women. If it&#13;
had not been for her, the cause of the accident which has been so near&#13;
costing me my life, would have been discovered. She gave me sheets and&#13;
linen immediately; to her I owe my honour; but she has necessarily&#13;
learned in that way that I have a lover, as I know that she has one; but&#13;
neither of us has shewn any anxiety to know the secrets of the other.&#13;
Sister M---- M---- is a rare woman. I feel certain, dearest, that you love&#13;
one another; it cannot be otherwise since you are acquainted; but as I am&#13;
not jealous of that affection, I deserve that you should tell me all. I&#13;
pity you both, however; for all you may do will, I fear, only irritate&#13;
your passion. Everyone in the convent thinks that you are ill, and I am&#13;
longing to see you. Come, at least, once. Adieu!"</p><p>The letter of C---- C---- inspired me with the deepest esteem for her, but&#13;
it caused me great anxiety, because, although I felt every confidence in&#13;
my dear little wife, the small crack in the wall might expose&#13;
M---- M---- and myself to the inquisitive looks of other persons. Besides,&#13;
I found myself compelled to deceive that amiable, trusting friend, and to&#13;
tell a falsehood, for delicacy and honour forbade me to tell her the&#13;
truth. I wrote to her immediately that her friendship for M---- M---- made&#13;
it her duty to warn her friend at once that she had seen her in the&#13;
parlour with a masked gentleman. I added that, having heard a great deal&#13;
of M---- M----'s merit, and wishing to make her acquaintance, I had called&#13;
on her under an assumed name; that I entreated her not to tell her friend&#13;
who I was, but she might say that she had recognized in me the gentleman&#13;
who attended their church. I assured her with barefaced impudence that&#13;
there was no love between M---- M---- and me, but without concealing that I&#13;
thought her a superior woman.</p><p>On St. Catherine's Day, the patroness of my dear C---- C----, I bethought&#13;
myself of affording that lovely prisoner the pleasure of seeing me. As I&#13;
was leaving the church after mass, and just as I was going to take a&#13;
gondola, I observed that a man was following me. It looked suspicious,&#13;
and I determined to ascertain whether I was right. The man took a gondola&#13;
and followed mine. It might have been purely accidental; but, keeping on&#13;
my guard for fear of surprise, I alighted in Venice at the Morosini&#13;
Palace; the fellow alighted at the same place; his intentions were&#13;
evident. I left the palace, and turning towards the Flanders Gate I&#13;
stopped in a narrow street, took my knife in my hand, waited for the spy,&#13;
seized him by the collar, and pushing him against the wall with the knife&#13;
at his throat I commanded him to tell me what business he had with me.&#13;
Trembling all over he would have confessed everything, but unluckily&#13;
someone entered the street. The spy escaped and I was no wiser, but I had&#13;
no doubt that for the future that fellow at least would keep at a&#13;
respectful distance. It shewed me how easy it would be for an obstinate&#13;
spy to discover my identity, and I made up my mind never to go to Muran&#13;
but with a mask, or at night.</p><p>The next day I had to see my beautiful nun in order to ascertain which&#13;
day she would sup with me in Venice, and I went early to the convent. She&#13;
did not keep me waiting, and her face was radiant with joy. She&#13;
complimented me upon my having resumed my attendance at their church; all&#13;
the nuns had been delighted to see me again after an absence of three&#13;
weeks.</p><p>"The abbess," she said, "told me how glad she was to see you, and that&#13;
she was certain to find out who you are."</p><p>I then related to her the adventure of the spy, and we both thought that&#13;
it was most likely the means taken by the sainted woman to gratify her&#13;
curiosity about me.</p><p>"I have resolved not to attend your church any more."</p><p>"That will be a great deprivation to me, but in our common interest I can&#13;
but approve your resolution."</p><p>She related the affair of the treacherous crack in the partition, and&#13;
added,</p><p>"It is already repaired, and there is no longer any fear in that quarter.&#13;
I heard of it from a young boarder whom I love dearly, and who is much&#13;
attached to me. I am not curious to know her name, and she has never&#13;
mentioned it to me."</p><p>"Now, darling angel, tell me whether my happiness will be postponed."</p><p>"Yes, but only for twenty-four hours; the new professed sister has&#13;
invited me to supper in her room, and you must understand I cannot invent&#13;
any plausible excuse for refusing her invitation."</p><p>"You would not, then, tell her in confidence the very legitimate obstacle&#13;
which makes me wish that the new sisters never take supper?"</p><p>"Certainly not: we never trust anyone so far in a convent. Besides,&#13;
dearest, such an invitation cannot be declined unless I wish to gain a&#13;
most bitter enemy."</p><p>"Could you not say that you are ill?"</p><p>"Yes; but then the visits!"</p><p>"I understand; if you should refuse, the escape might be suspected."</p><p>"The escape! impossible; here no one admits the possibility of breaking&#13;
out of the convent."</p><p>"Then you are the only one able to perform that miracle?"</p><p>"You may be sure of that; but, as is always the case, it is gold which&#13;
performs that miracle."</p><p>"And many others, perhaps."</p><p>"Oh! the time has gone by for them! But tell me, my love, where will you&#13;
wait for me to-morrow, two hours after the setting of the sun?"</p><p>"Could I not wait for you at your casino?"</p><p>"No, because my lover will take me himself to Venice."</p><p>"Your lover?"</p><p>"Yes, himself."</p><p>"It is not possible."</p><p>"Yet it is true."</p><p>"I can wait for you in St. John and St. Paul's Square behind the pedestal&#13;
of the statue of Bartholomew of Bergamo."</p><p>"I have never seen either the square or the statue except in engravings;&#13;
it is enough, however, and I will not fail. Nothing but very stormy&#13;
weather could prevent me from coming to a rendezvous for which my heart&#13;
is panting."</p><p>"And if the weather were bad?"</p><p>"Then, dearest, there would be nothing lost; and you would come here&#13;
again in order to appoint another day."</p><p>I had no time to lose, for I had no casino. I took a second rower so as&#13;
to reach St. Mark's Square more rapidly, and I immediately set to work&#13;
looking for what I wanted. When a mortal is so lucky as to be in the good&#13;
graces of the god Plutus, and is not crackbrained, he is pretty sure to&#13;
succeed in everything: I had not to search very long before I found a&#13;
casino suiting my purpose exactly. It was the finest in the neighbourhood&#13;
of Venice, but, as a natural consequence, it was likewise the most&#13;
expensive. It had belonged to the English ambassador, who had sold it&#13;
cheap to his cook before leaving Venice. The owner let it to me until&#13;
Easter for one hundred sequins, which I paid in advance on condition that&#13;
he would himself cook the dinners and the suppers I might order.</p><p>I had five rooms furnished in the most elegant style, and everything&#13;
seemed to be calculated for love, pleasure, and good cheer. The service&#13;
of the dining-room was made through a sham window in the wall, provided&#13;
with a dumb-waiter revolving upon itself, and fitting the window so&#13;
exactly that master and servants could not see each other. The&#13;
drawing-room was decorated with magnificent looking-glasses, crystal&#13;
chandeliers, girandoles in gilt, bronze, and with a splendid pier-glass&#13;
placed on a chimney of white marble; the walls were covered with small&#13;
squares of real china, representing little Cupids and naked amorous&#13;
couples in all sorts of positions, well calculated to excite the&#13;
imagination; elegant and very comfortable sofas were placed on every&#13;
side. Next to it was an octagonal room, the walls, the ceiling, and the&#13;
floor of which were entirely covered with splendid Venetian glass,&#13;
arranged in such a manner as to reflect on all sides every position of&#13;
the amorous couple enjoying the pleasures of love. Close by was a&#13;
beautiful alcove with two secret outlets; on the right, an elegant&#13;
dressing-room, on the left, a boudoir which seemed to have been arranged&#13;
by the mother of Love, with a bath in Carrara marble. Everywhere the&#13;
wainscots were embossed in ormolu or painted with flowers and arabesques.</p><p>After I had given my orders for all the chandeliers to be filled with wax&#13;
candles, and the finest linen to be provided wherever necessary, I&#13;
ordered a most delicate and sumptuous supper for two, without regard to&#13;
expense, and especially the most exquisite wines. I then took possession&#13;
of the key of the principal entrance, and warned the master that I did&#13;
not want to be seen by anyone when I came in or went out.</p><p>I observed with pleasure that the clock in the alcove had an alarum, for&#13;
I was beginning, in spite of love, to be easily influenced by the power&#13;
of sleep.</p><p>Everything being arranged according to my wishes, I went, as a careful&#13;
and delicate lover, to purchase the finest slippers I could find, and a&#13;
cap in Alencon point.</p><p>I trust my reader does not think me too particular; let him recollect&#13;
that I was to receive the most accomplished of the sultanas of the master&#13;
of the universe, and I told that fourth Grace that I had a casino. Was I&#13;
to begin by giving her a bad idea of my truthfulness? At the appointed&#13;
time, that is two hours after sunset, I repaired to my palace; and it&#13;
would be difficult to imagine the surprise of his honour the French cook,&#13;
when he saw me arrive alone. Not finding all the chandeliers lighted-up&#13;
as I had ordered, I scolded him well, giving him notice that I did not&#13;
like to repeat an order.</p><p>"I shall not fail; sir, another time, to execute your commands."</p><p>"Let the supper be served."</p><p>"Your honour ordered it for two."</p><p>"Yes, for two; and, this time, be present during my supper, so that I can&#13;
tell you which dishes I find good or bad."</p><p>The supper came through the revolving: dumb-waiter in very good order,&#13;
two dishes at a time. I passed some remarks upon everything; but, to tell&#13;
the truth, everything was excellent: game, fish, oysters, truffles, wine,&#13;
dessert, and the whole served in very fine Dresden china and silver-gilt&#13;
plate.</p><p>I told him that he had forgotten hard eggs, anchovies, and prepared&#13;
vinegar to dress a salad. He lifted his eyes towards heaven, as if to&#13;
plead guilty, to a very heinous crime.</p><p>After a supper which lasted two hours, and during which I must certainly&#13;
have won the admiration of my host, I asked him to bring me the bill. He&#13;
presented it to me shortly afterwards, and I found it reasonable. I then&#13;
dismissed him, and lay down in the splendid bed in the alcove; my&#13;
excellent supper brought on very soon the most delicious sleep which,&#13;
without the Burgundy and the Champagne, might very likely not have&#13;
visited me, if I had thought that the following night would see me in the&#13;
same place, and in possession of a lovely divinity. It was broad&#13;
day-light when I awoke, and after ordering the finest fruit and some ices&#13;
for the evening I left the casino. In order to shorten a day which my&#13;
impatient desires would have caused me to find very long, I went to the&#13;
faro-table, and I saw with pleasure that I was as great a favourite with&#13;
fortune as with love. Everything proceeded according to my wishes, and I&#13;
delighted in ascribing my happy success to the influence of my nun.</p><p>I was at the place of meeting one hour before the time appointed, and&#13;
although the night was cold I did not feel it. Precisely as the hour&#13;
struck I saw a two-oared gondola reach the shore and a mask come out of&#13;
it, speak a few words to the gondolier, and take the direction of the&#13;
statue. My heart was beating quickly, but seeing that it was a man I&#13;
avoided him, and regretted not having brought my pistols. The mask,&#13;
however, turning round the statue, came up to me with outstretched hands;&#13;
I then recognized my angel, who was amused at my surprise and took my&#13;
arm. Without speaking we went towards St. Mark's Square, and reached my&#13;
casino, which was only one hundred yards from the St. Moses Theatre.</p><p>I found everything in good order; we went upstairs and I threw off my&#13;
mask and my disguise; but M---- M---- took delight in walking about the&#13;
rooms and in examining every nook of the charming place in which she was&#13;
received. Highly gratified to see me admire the grace of her person, she&#13;
wanted me likewise to admire in her attire the taste and generosity of&#13;
her lover. She was surprised at the almost magic spell which, although&#13;
she remained motionless, shewed her lovely person in a thousand different&#13;
manners. Her multiplied portraits, reproduced by the looking-glasses, and&#13;
the numerous wax candles disposed to that effect, offered to her sight a&#13;
spectacle entirely new to her, and from which she could not withdraw her&#13;
eyes. Sitting down on a stool I contemplated her elegant person with&#13;
rapture. A coat of rosy velvet, embroidered with gold spangles, a vest to&#13;
match, embroidered likewise in the richest fashion, breeches of black&#13;
satin, diamond buckles, a solitaire of great value on her little finger,&#13;
and on the other hand a ring: such was her toilet. Her black lace mask&#13;
was remarkable for its fineness and the beauty of the design. To enable&#13;
me to see her better she stood before me. I looked in her pockets, in&#13;
which I found a gold snuff-box, a sweetmeat-box adorned with pearls, a&#13;
gold case, a splendid opera-glass, handkerchiefs of the finest cambric,&#13;
soaked rather than perfumed with the most precious essences. I examined&#13;
attentively the richness and the workmanship of her two watches, of her&#13;
chains, of her trinkets, brilliant with diamonds. The last article I&#13;
found was a pistol; it was an English weapon of fine steel, and of the&#13;
most beautiful finish.</p><p>"All I see, my divine angel, is not worthy of you; yet I cannot refrain&#13;
from expressing my admiration for the wonderful, I might almost say&#13;
adorable, being who wants to convince you that you are truly his&#13;
mistress."</p><p>"That is what he said when I asked him to bring me to Venice, and to&#13;
leave me. 'Amuse yourself,' he said, 'and I hope that the man whom you&#13;
are going to make happy will convince you that he is worthy of it.'"</p><p>"He is indeed an extraordinary man, and I do not think there is another&#13;
like him. Such a lover is a unique being; and I feel that I could not be&#13;
like him, as deeply as I fear to be unworthy of a happiness which dazzles&#13;
me."</p><p>"Allow me to leave you, and to take off these clothes alone."</p><p>"Do anything you please."</p><p>A quarter of an hour afterwards my mistress came back to me. Her hair was&#13;
dressed like a man's; the front locks came down her cheeks, and the black&#13;
hair, fastened with a knot of blue ribbon, reached the bend of her legs;&#13;
her form was that of Antinous; her clothes alone, being cut in the French&#13;
style, prevented the illusion from being complete. I was in a state of&#13;
ecstatic delight, and I could not realize my happiness.</p><p>"No, adorable woman," I exclaimed, "you are not made for a mortal, and I&#13;
do not believe that you will ever be mine. At the very moment of&#13;
possessing you some miracle will wrest you from my arms. Your divine&#13;
spouse, perhaps, jealous of a simple mortal, will annihilate all my hope.&#13;
It is possible that in a few minutes I shall no longer exist."</p><p>"Are you mad, dearest? I am yours this very instant, if you wish it."</p><p>"Ah! if I wish it! Although fasting, come! Love and happiness will be my&#13;
food!"</p><p>She felt cold, we sat near the fire; and unable to master my impatience I&#13;
unfastened a diamond brooch which pinned her ruffle. Dear reader, there&#13;
are some sensations so powerful and so sweet that years cannot weaken the&#13;
remembrance of them. My mouth had already covered with kisses that&#13;
ravishing bosom; but then the troublesome corset had not allowed me to&#13;
admire all its perfection. Now I felt it free from all restraint and from&#13;
all unnecessary support; I have never seen, never touched, anything more&#13;
beautiful, and the two magnificent globes of the Venus de Medicis, even&#13;
if they had been animated by the spark of life given by Prometheus, would&#13;
have yielded the palm to hose of my divine nun.</p><p>I was burning with ardent desires, and I would have satisfied them on the&#13;
spot, if my adorable mistress had not calmed my impatience by these&#13;
simple words:</p><p>"Wait until after supper."</p><p>I rang the bell; she shuddered.</p><p>"Do not be anxious, dearest."</p><p>And I shewed her the secret of the sham window.</p><p>"You will be able to tell your lover that no one saw you."</p><p>"He will appreciate your delicate attention, and that will prove to him&#13;
that you are not a novice in the art of love. But it is evident that I am&#13;
not the only one who enjoys with you the delights of this charming&#13;
residence."</p><p>"You are wrong, believe me: you are the first woman I have seen here. You&#13;
are not, adorable creature, my first love, but you shall be the last."</p><p>"I shall be happy if you are faithful. My lover is constant, kind, gentle&#13;
and amiable; yet my heart has ever been fancy-free with him."</p><p>"Then his own heart must be the same; for if his love was of the same&#13;
nature as mine you would never have made me happy."</p><p>"He loves me as I love you; do you believe in my love for you?"</p><p>"Yes, I want to believe in it; but you would not allow me to...."</p><p>"Do not say any more; for I feel that I could forgive you in anything,&#13;
provided you told me all. The joy I experience at this moment is caused&#13;
more by the hope I have of gratifying your desires than by the idea that&#13;
I am going to pass a delightful night with you. It will be the first in&#13;
my life."</p><p>"What! Have you never passed such a night with your lover?"</p><p>"Several; but friendship, compliance, and gratitude, perhaps, were then&#13;
the only contributors to our pleasures; the most essential--love--was&#13;
never present. In spite of that, my lover is like you; his wit is lively,&#13;
very much the same as yours, and, as far as his features are concerned,&#13;
he is very handsome; yet it is not you. I believe him more wealthy than&#13;
you, although this casino almost convinces me that I am mistaken, but&#13;
what does love care for riches? Do not imagine that I consider you&#13;
endowed with less merit than he, because you confess yourself incapable&#13;
of his heroism in allowing me to enjoy another love. Quite the contrary;&#13;
I know that you would not love me as you do, if you told me that you&#13;
could be as indulgent as he is for one of my caprices."</p><p>"Will he be curious to hear the particulars of this night?"</p><p>"Most likely he will think that he will please me by asking what has&#13;
taken place, and I will tell him everything, except such particulars as&#13;
might humiliate him."</p><p>After the supper, which she found excellent, she made some punch, and she&#13;
was a very good hand at it. But I felt my impatience growing stronger&#13;
every moment, and I said,</p><p>"Recollect that we have only seven hours before us, and that we should be&#13;
very foolish to waste them in this room."</p><p>"You reason better than Socrates," she answered, "and your eloquence has&#13;
convinced me. Come!"</p><p>She led me to the elegant dressing-room, and I offered her the fine&#13;
night-cap which I had bought for her, asking her at the same time to&#13;
dress her hair like a woman. She took it with great pleasure, and begged&#13;
me to go and undress myself in the drawing-room, promising to call me as&#13;
soon as she was in bed.</p><p>I had not long to wait: when pleasure is waiting for us, we all go&#13;
quickly to work. I fell into her arms, intoxicated with love and&#13;
happiness, and during seven hours I gave her the most positive proofs of&#13;
my ardour and of the feelings I entertained for her. It is true that she&#13;
taught me nothing new, materially speaking, but a great deal in sighs, in&#13;
ecstasies, in enjoyments which can have their full development only in a&#13;
sensitive soul in the sweetest of all moments. I varied our pleasures in&#13;
a thousand different ways, and I astonished her by making her feel that&#13;
she was susceptible of greater enjoyment than she had any idea of. At&#13;
last the fatal alarum was heard: we had to stop our amorous transports;&#13;
but before she left my arms she raised her eyes towards heaven as if to&#13;
thank her Divine Master for having given her the courage to declare her&#13;
passion to me.</p><p>We dressed ourselves, and observing that I put the lace night-cap in her&#13;
pocket she assured me that she would keep it all her life as a witness of&#13;
the happiness which overwhelmed her. After drinking a cup of coffee we&#13;
went out, and I left her at St. John and St. Paul's Square, promising to&#13;
call on her the day after the morrow; I watched her until I saw her safe&#13;
in her gondola, and I then went to bed. Ten hours of profound sleep&#13;
restored me to my usual state of vigour.</p><p>CHAPTER XVIII</p><p>Visit to the Convent and Conversation With M. M.--A Letter from Her, and&#13;
My Answer--Another Interview At the Casino of Muran In the Presence of&#13;
Her Lover</p><p>According to my promise, I went to see M---- M---- two days afterwards, but&#13;
as soon as she came to the parlour she told me that her lover had said he&#13;
was coming, and that she expected him every minute, and that she would be&#13;
glad to see me the next day. I took leave of her, but near the bridge I&#13;
saw a man, rather badly masked, coming out of a gondola. I looked at the&#13;
gondolier, and I recognized him as being in the service of the French&#13;
ambassador. "It is he," I said to myself, and without appearing to&#13;
observe him I watched him enter the convent. I had no longer any doubt as&#13;
to his identity, and I returned to Venice delighted at having made the&#13;
discovery, but I made up my mind not to say anything to my mistress.</p><p>I saw her on the following day, and we, had a long conversation together,&#13;
which I am now going to relate.</p><p>"My friend," she said to me, "came yesterday in order to bid farewell to&#13;
me until the Christmas holidays. He is going to Padua, but everything has&#13;
been arranged so that we can sup at his casino whenever we wish."</p><p>"Why not in Venice?"</p><p>"He has begged me not to go there during his absence. He is wise and&#13;
prudent; I could not refuse his request."</p><p>"You are quite right. When shall we sup together?"</p><p>"Next Sunday, if you like."</p><p>"If I like is not the right expression, for I always like. On Sunday,&#13;
then, I will go to the casino towards nightfall, and wait for you with a&#13;
book. Have you told your friend that you were not very uncomfortable in&#13;
my small palace?"</p><p>"He knows all about it, but, dearest, he is afraid of one thing--he fears&#13;
a certain fatal plumpness...."</p><p>"On my life, I never thought of that! But, my darling, do you not run the&#13;
same risk with him?"</p><p>"No, it is impossible."</p><p>"I understand you. Then we must be very prudent for the future. I believe&#13;
that, nine days before Christmas, the mask is no longer allowed, and then&#13;
I shall have to go to your casino by water, otherwise, I might easily be&#13;
recognized by the same spy who has already followed me once."</p><p>"Yes, that idea proves your prudence, and I can easily, shew you the&#13;
place. I hope you will be able to come also during Lent, although we are&#13;
told that at that time God wishes us to mortify our senses. Is it not&#13;
strange that there is a time during which God wants us to amuse ourselves&#13;
almost to frenzy, and another during which, in order to please Him, we&#13;
must live in complete abstinence? What is there in common between a&#13;
yearly observance and the Deity, and how can the action of the creature&#13;
have any influence over the Creator, whom my reason cannot conceive&#13;
otherwise than independent? It seems to me that if God had created man&#13;
with the power of offending Him, man would be right in doing everything&#13;
that is forbidden to him, because the deficiencies of his organization&#13;
would be the work of the Creator Himself. How can we imagine God grieved&#13;
during Lent?"</p><p>"My beloved one, you reason beautifully, but will you tell me where you&#13;
have managed, in a convent, to pass the Rubicon?"</p><p>"Yes. My friend has given me some good books which I have read with deep&#13;
attention, and the light of truth has dispelled the darkness which&#13;
blinded my eyes. I can assure you that, when I look in my own heart, I&#13;
find myself more fortunate in having met with a person who has brought&#13;
light to my mind than miserable at having taken the veil; for the&#13;
greatest happiness must certainly consist in living and in dying&#13;
peacefully--a happiness which can hardly be obtained by listening to all&#13;
the idle talk with which the priests puzzle our brains."</p><p>"I am of your opinion, but I admire you, for it ought to be the work of&#13;
more than a few months to bring light to a mind prejudiced as yours was."</p><p>"There is no doubt that I should have seen light much sooner if I had not&#13;
laboured under so many prejudices. There was in my mind a curtain&#13;
dividing truth from error, and reason alone could draw it aside, but that&#13;
poor reason--I had been taught to fear it, to repulse it, as if its&#13;
bright flame would have devoured, instead of enlightening me. The moment&#13;
it was proved to me that a reasonable being ought to be guided only by&#13;
his own inductions I acknowledged the sway of reason, and the mist which&#13;
hid truth from me was dispelled. The evidence of truth shone before my&#13;
eyes, nonsensical trifles disappeared, and I have no fear of their&#13;
resuming their influence over my mind, for every day it is getting&#13;
stronger; and I may say that I only began to love God when my mind was&#13;
disabused of priestly superstitions concerning Him."</p><p>"I congratulate you; you have been more fortunate than I, for you have&#13;
made more progress in one year than I have made in ten."</p><p>"Then you did not begin by reading the writings of Lord Bolingbroke? Five&#13;
or six months ago, I was reading La Sagesse, by Charron, and somehow or&#13;
other my confessor heard of it; when I went to him for confession, he&#13;
took upon himself to tell me to give up reading that book. I answered&#13;
that my conscience did not reproach me, and that I could not obey him.&#13;
'In that case,' replied he, 'I will not give you absolution.' 'That will&#13;
not prevent me from taking the communion,' I said. This made him angry,&#13;
and, in order to know what he ought to do, he applied to Bishop Diedo.&#13;
His eminence came to see me, and told me that I ought to be guided by my&#13;
confessor. I answered that we had mutual duties to perform, and that the&#13;
mission of a priest in the confessional was to listen to me, to impose a&#13;
reasonable penance, and to give me absolution; that he had not even the&#13;
right of offering me any advice if I did not ask for it. I added that the&#13;
confessor being bound to avoid scandal, if he dared to refuse me the&#13;
absolution, which, of course, he could do, I would all the same go to the&#13;
altar with the other nuns. The bishop, seeing that he was at his wit's&#13;
end, told the priest to abandon me to my conscience. But that was not&#13;
satisfactory to me, and my lover obtained a brief from the Pope&#13;
authorizing me to go to confession to any priest I like. All the sisters&#13;
are jealous of the privilege, but I have availed myself of it only once,&#13;
for the sake of establishing a precedent and of strengthening the right&#13;
by the fact, for it is not worth the trouble. I always confess to the&#13;
same priest, and he has no difficulty in giving me absolution, for I only&#13;
tell him what I like."</p><p>"And for the rest you absolve yourself?"</p><p>"I confess to God, who alone can know my thoughts and judge the degree of&#13;
merit or of demerit to be attached to my actions."</p><p>Our conversation shewed me that my lovely friend was what is called a&#13;
Free-thinker; but I was not astonished at it, because she felt a greater&#13;
need of peace for her conscience than of gratification for her senses.</p><p>On the Sunday, after dinner, I took a two-oared gondola, and went round&#13;
the island of Muran to reconnoitre the shore, and to discover the small&#13;
door through which my mistress escaped from the convent. I lost my&#13;
trouble and my time, for I did not become acquainted with the shore till&#13;
the octave of Christmas, and with the small door six months afterwards. I&#13;
shall mention the circumstance in its proper place.</p><p>As soon as it was time, I repaired to the temple, and while I was waiting&#13;
for the idol I amused myself in examining the books of a small library in&#13;
the boudoir. They were not numerous, but they were well chosen and worthy&#13;
of the place. I found there everything that has been written against&#13;
religion, and all the works of the most voluptuous writers on pleasure;&#13;
attractive books, the incendiary style of which compels the reader to&#13;
seek the reality of the image they represent. Several folios, richly&#13;
bound, contained nothing but erotic engravings. Their principal merit&#13;
consisted much more in the beauty of the designs, in the finish of the&#13;
work, than in the lubricity of the positions. I found amongst them the&#13;
prints of the Portier des Chartreux, published in England; the engravings&#13;
of Meursius, of Aloysia Sigea Toletana, and others, all very beautifully&#13;
done. A great many small pictures covered the walls of the boudoir, and&#13;
they were all masterpieces in the same style as the engravings.</p><p>I had spent an hour in examining all these works of art, the sight of&#13;
which had excited me in the most irresistible manner, when I saw my&#13;
beautiful mistress enter the room, dressed as a nun. Her appearance was&#13;
not likely to act as a sedative, and therefore, without losing any time&#13;
in compliments, I said to her,</p><p>"You arrive most opportunely. All these erotic pictures have fired my&#13;
imagination, and it is in your garb of a saint that you must administer&#13;
the remedy that my love requires."</p><p>"Let me put on another dress, darling, it will not take more than five&#13;
minutes."</p><p>"Five minutes will complete my happiness, and then you can attend to your&#13;
metamorphosis."</p><p>"But let me take off these woollen robes, which I dislike."</p><p>"No; I want you to receive the homage of my love in the same dress which&#13;
you had on when you gave birth to it."</p><p>She uttered in the humblest manner a 'fiat voluntas tua', accompanied by&#13;
the most voluptuous smile, and sank on the sofa. For one instant we&#13;
forgot all the world besides. After that delightful ecstacy I assisted&#13;
her to undress, and a simple gown of Indian muslin soon metamorphosed my&#13;
lovely nun into a beautiful nymph.</p><p>After an excellent supper, we agreed not to meet again till the first day&#13;
of the octave. She gave me the key of the gate on the shore, and told me&#13;
that a blue ribbon attached to the window over the door would point it&#13;
out by day, so as to prevent my making a mistake at night. I made her&#13;
very happy by telling her that I would come and reside in her casino&#13;
until the return of her friend. During the ten days that I remained&#13;
there, I saw her four times, and I convinced her that I lived only for&#13;
her.</p><p>During my stay in the casino I amused myself in reading, in writing to&#13;
C---- C----, but my love for her had become a calm affection. The lines&#13;
which interested me most in her letters were those in which she mentioned&#13;
her friend. She often blamed me for not having cultivated the&#13;
acquaintance of M---- M----, and my answer was that I had not done so for&#13;
fear of being known. I always insisted upon the necessity of discretion.</p><p>I do not believe in the possibility of equal love being bestowed upon two&#13;
persons at the same time, nor do I believe it possible to keep love to a&#13;
high degree of intensity if you give it either too much food or none at&#13;
all. That which maintained my passion for M---- M ---- in a state of great&#13;
vigour was that I could never possess her without running the risk of&#13;
losing her.</p><p>"It is impossible," I said to her once, "that some time or other one of&#13;
the nuns should not want to speak to you when you are absent?"</p><p>"No," she answered, "that cannot happen, because there is nothing more&#13;
religiously respected in a convent than the right of a nun to deny&#13;
herself, even to the abbess. A fire is the only circumstance I have to&#13;
fear, because in that case there would be general uproar and confusion,&#13;
and it would not appear natural that a nun should remain quietly locked&#13;
up in her cell in the midst of such danger; my escape would then be&#13;
discovered. I have contrived to gain over the lay-sister and the&#13;
gardener, as well as another nun, and that miracle was performed by my&#13;
cunning assisted by my lover's gold.</p><p>"He answers for the fidelity of the cook and his wife who take care of&#13;
the casino. He has likewise every confidence in the two gondoliers,&#13;
although one of them is sure to be a spy of the State Inquisitors."</p><p>On Christmas Eve she announced the return of her lover, and she told him&#13;
that on St. Stephen's Day she would go with him to the opera, and that&#13;
they would afterwards spend the night together.</p><p>"I shall expect you, my beloved one," she added, "on the last day of the&#13;
year, and here is a letter which I beg you not to read till you get&#13;
home."</p><p>As I had to move in order to make room for her lover, I packed my things&#13;
early in the morning, and, bidding farewell to a place in which during&#13;
ten days I had enjoyed so many delights, I returned to the Bragadin&#13;
Palace, where I read the following letter:</p><p>"You have somewhat offended me, my own darling, by telling me, respecting&#13;
the mystery which I am bound to keep on the subject of my lover, that,&#13;
satisfied to possess my heart, you left me mistress of my mind. That&#13;
division of the heart and of the mind appears to me a pure sophism, and&#13;
if it does not strike you as such you must admit that you do not love me&#13;
wholly, for I cannot exist without mind, and you cannot cherish my heart&#13;
if it does not agree with my mind. If your love cannot accept a different&#13;
state of things it does not excel in delicacy. However, as some&#13;
circumstance might occur in which you might accuse me of not having acted&#13;
towards you with all the sincerity that true love inspires, and that it&#13;
has a right to demand, I have made up my mind to confide to you a secret&#13;
which concerns my friend, although I am aware that he relies entirely&#13;
upon my discretion. I shall certainly be guilty of a breach of&#13;
confidence, but you will not love me less for it, because, compelled to&#13;
choose between you two, and to deceive either one or the other, love has&#13;
conquered friendship; do not punish me for it, for it has not been done&#13;
blindly, and you will, I trust, consider the reasons which have caused&#13;
the scale to weigh down in your favour.</p><p>"When I found myself incapable of resisting my wish to know you and to&#13;
become intimate with you, I could not gratify that wish without taking my&#13;
friend into my confidence, and I had no doubt of his compliance. He&#13;
conceived a very favourable opinion of your character from your first&#13;
letter, not only because you had chosen the parlour of the convent for&#13;
our first interview, but also because you appointed his casino at Muran&#13;
instead of your own. But he likewise begged of me to allow him to be&#13;
present at our first meeting-place, in a small closet--a true&#13;
hiding-place, from which one can see and hear everything without being&#13;
suspected by those in the drawing-room. You have not yet seen that&#13;
mysterious closet, but I will shew it to you on the last day of the year.&#13;
Tell me, dearest, whether I could refuse that singular request to the man&#13;
who was shewing me such compliant kindness? I consented, and it was&#13;
natural for me not to let you know it. You are therefore aware now that&#13;
my friend was a witness of all we did and said during the first night&#13;
that we spent together, but do not let that annoy you, for you pleased&#13;
him in everything, in your behaviour towards me as well as in the witty&#13;
sayings which you uttered to make me laugh. I was in great fear, when the&#13;
conversation turned upon him, lest you would say something which might&#13;
hurt his self-love, but, very fortunately, he heard only the most&#13;
flattering compliments. Such is, dearest love, the sincere confession of&#13;
my treason, but as a wise lover you will forgive me because it has not&#13;
done you the slightest harm. My friend is extremely curious to ascertain&#13;
who you are. But listen to me, that night you were natural and thoroughly&#13;
amiable, would you have been the same, if you had known that there was a&#13;
witness? It is not likely, and if I had acquainted you with the truth,&#13;
you might have refused your consent, and perhaps you would have been&#13;
right.</p><p>"Now that we know each other, and that you entertain no doubt, I trust,&#13;
of my devoted love, I wish to ease my conscience and to venture all.&#13;
Learn then, dearest, that on the last day of the year, my friend will be&#13;
at the casino, which he will leave only the next morning. You will not&#13;
see him, but he will see us. As you are supposed not to know anything&#13;
about it, you must feel that you will have to be natural in everything,&#13;
otherwise, he might guess that I have betrayed the secret. It is&#13;
especially in your conversation that you must be careful. My friend&#13;
possesses every virtue except the theological one called faith, and on&#13;
that subject you can say anything you like. You will be at liberty to&#13;
talk literature, travels, politics, anything you please, and you need not&#13;
refrain from anecdotes. In fact you are certain of his approbation.</p><p>"Now, dearest, I have only this to say. Do you feel disposed to allow&#13;
yourself to be seen by another man while you are abandoning yourself to&#13;
the sweet voluptuousness of your senses? That doubt causes all my&#13;
anxiety, and I entreat from you an answer, yes or no. Do you understand&#13;
how painful the doubt is for me? I expect not to close my eyes throughout&#13;
the night, and I shall not rest until I have your decision. In case you&#13;
should object to shew your tenderness in the presence of a third person,&#13;
I will take whatever determination love may suggest to me. But I hope you&#13;
will consent, and even if you were not to perform the character of an&#13;
ardent lover in a masterly manner, it would not be of any consequence. I&#13;
will let my friend believe that your love has not reached its apogee."</p><p>That letter certainly took me by surprise, but all things considered,&#13;
thinking that my part was better than the one accepted by the lover, I&#13;
laughed heartily at the proposal. I confess, however, that I should not&#13;
have laughed if I had not known the nature of the individual who was to&#13;
be the witness of my amorous exploits. Understanding all the anxiety of&#13;
my friend, and wishing to allay it, I immediately wrote to her the&#13;
following lines:</p><p>"You wish me, heavenly creature, to answer you yes or no, and I, full of&#13;
love for you, want my answer to reach you before noon, so that you may&#13;
dine in perfect peace.</p><p>"I will spend the last night of the year with you, and I can assure you&#13;
that the friend, to whom we will give a spectacle worthy of Paphos and&#13;
Amathos, shall see or hear nothing likely to make him suppose that I am&#13;
acquainted with his secret. You may be certain that I will play my part&#13;
not as a novice but as a master. If it is man's duty to be always the&#13;
slave of his reason; if, as long as he has control over himself, he ought&#13;
not to act without taking it for his guide, I cannot understand why a man&#13;
should be ashamed to shew himself to a friend at the very moment that he&#13;
is most favoured by love and nature.</p><p>"Yet I confess that you would have been wrong if you had confided the&#13;
secret to me the first time, and that most likely I should then have&#13;
refused to grant you that mark of my compliance, not because I loved you&#13;
less then than I do now, but there are such strange tastes in nature that&#13;
I might have imagined that your lover's ruling taste was to enjoy the&#13;
sight of an ardent and frantic couple in the midst of amorous connection,&#13;
and in that case, conceiving an unfavourable opinion of you, vexation&#13;
might have frozen the love you had just sent through my being. Now,&#13;
however, the case is very different. I know all I possess in you, and,&#13;
from all you have told me of your lover, I am well disposed towards him,&#13;
and I believe him to be my friend. If a feeling of modesty does not deter&#13;
you from shewing yourself tender, loving, and full of amorous ardour with&#13;
me in his presence, how could I be ashamed, when, on the contrary, I&#13;
ought to feel proud of myself? I have no reason to blush at having made a&#13;
conquest of you, or at shewing myself in those moments during which I&#13;
prove the liberality with which nature has bestowed upon me the shape and&#13;
the strength which assure such immense enjoyment to me, besides the&#13;
certainty that I can make the woman I love share it with me. I am aware&#13;
that, owing to a feeling which is called natural, but which is perhaps&#13;
only the result of civilization and the effect of the prejudices inherent&#13;
in youth, most men object to any witness in those moments, but those who&#13;
cannot give any good reasons for their repugnance must have in their&#13;
nature something of the cat. At the same time, they might have some&#13;
excellent reasons, without their thinking themselves bound to give them,&#13;
except to the woman, who is easily deceived. I excuse with all my heart&#13;
those who know that they would only excite the pity of the witnesses, but&#13;
we both have no fear of that sort. All you have told me of your friend&#13;
proves that he will enjoy our pleasures. But do you know what will be the&#13;
result of it? The intensity of our ardour will excite his own, and he&#13;
will throw himself at my feet, begging and entreating me to give up to&#13;
him the only object likely to calm his amorous excitement. What could I&#13;
do in that case? Give you up? I could hardly refuse to do so with good&#13;
grace, but I would go away, for I could not remain a quiet spectator.</p><p>"Farewell, my darling love; all will be well, I have no doubt. Prepare&#13;
yourself for the athletic contest, and rely upon the fortunate being who&#13;
adores you."</p><p>I spent the six following days with my three worthy friends, and at the&#13;
'ridotto', which at that time was opened on St. Stephen's Day. As I could&#13;
not hold the cards there, the patricians alone having the privilege of&#13;
holding the bank, I played morning and evening, and I constantly lost;&#13;
for whoever punts must lose. But the loss of the four or five thousand&#13;
sequins I possessed, far from cooling my love, seemed only to increase&#13;
its ardour.</p><p>At the end of the year 1774 the Great Council promulgated a law&#13;
forbidding all games of chance, the first effect of which was to close&#13;
the 'ridotto'. This law was a real phenomenon, and when the votes were&#13;
taken out of the urn the senators looked at each other with stupefaction.&#13;
They had made the law unwittingly, for three-fourths of the voters&#13;
objected to it, and yet three-fourths of the votes were in favour of it.&#13;
People said that it was a miracle of St. Mark's, who had answered the&#13;
prayers of Monsignor Flangini, then censor-in-chief, now cardinal, and&#13;
one of the three State Inquisitors.</p><p>On the day appointed I was punctual at the place of rendezvous, and I had&#13;
not to wait for my mistress. She was in the dressing-room, where she had&#13;
had time to attend to her toilet, and as soon as she heard me she came to&#13;
me dressed with the greatest elegance.</p><p>"My friend is not yet at his post," she said to me, "but the moment he is&#13;
there I will give you a wink."</p><p>"Where is the mysterious closet?"</p><p>"There it is. Look at the back of this sofa against the wall. All those&#13;
flowers in relief have a hole in the centre which communicates with the&#13;
closet behind that wall. There is a bed, a table, and everything&#13;
necessary to a person who wants to spend the night in amusing himself by&#13;
looking at what is going on in this room. I will skew it to you whenever&#13;
you like."</p><p>"Was it arranged by your lover's orders?"</p><p>"No, for he could not foresee that he would use it."</p><p>"I understand that he may find great pleasure in such a sight, but being&#13;
unable to possess you at the very moment nature will make you most&#13;
necessary to him, what will he do?"</p><p>"That is his business. Besides, he is at liberty to go away when he has&#13;
had enough of it, or to sleep if he has a mind to, but if you play your&#13;
part naturally he will not feel any weariness."</p><p>"I will be most natural, but I must be more polite."</p><p>"No, no politeness, I beg, for if you are polite, goodbye to nature.&#13;
Where have you ever seen, I should like to know, two lovers, excited by&#13;
all the fury of love, think of politeness?"</p><p>"You are right, darling, but I must be more delicate."</p><p>"Very well, delicacy can do no harm, but no more than usual. Your letter&#13;
greatly pleased me, you have treated the subject like a man of&#13;
experience."</p><p>I have already stated that my mistress was dressed most elegantly, but I&#13;
ought to have added that it was the elegance of the Graces, and that it&#13;
did not in any way prevent ease and simplicity. I only wondered at her&#13;
having used some paint for the face, but it rather pleased me because she&#13;
had applied it according to the fashion of the ladies of Versailles. The&#13;
charm of that style consists in the negligence with which the paint is&#13;
applied. The rouge must not appear natural; it is used to please the eyes&#13;
which see in it the marks of an intoxication heralding the most amorous&#13;
fury. She told me that she had put some on her face to please her&#13;
inquisitive friend, who was very fond of it.</p><p>"That taste," I said, "proves him to be a Frenchman."</p><p>As I was uttering these words, she made a sign to me; the friend was at&#13;
his post, and now the play began.</p><p>"The more I look at you, beloved angel, the more I think you worthy of my&#13;
adoration."</p><p>"But are you not certain that you do not worship a cruel divinity?"</p><p>"Yes, and therefore I do not offer my sacrifices to appease you, but to&#13;
excite you. You shall feel all through the night the ardour of my&#13;
devotion."</p><p>"You will not find me insensible to your offerings."</p><p>"I would begin them at once, but I think that, in order to insure their&#13;
efficiency, we ought to have supper first. I have taken nothing to-day&#13;
but a cup of chocolate and a salad of whites of eggs dressed with oil&#13;
from Lucca and Marseilles vinegar."</p><p>"But, dearest, it is folly! you must be ill?"</p><p>"Yes, I am just now, but I shall be all right when I have distilled the&#13;
whites of eggs, one by one, into your amorous soul."</p><p>"I did not think you required any such stimulants."</p><p>"Who could want any with you? But I have a rational fear, for if I&#13;
happened to prime without being able to fire, I would blow my brains&#13;
out."</p><p>"My dear browny, it would certainly be a misfortune, but there would be&#13;
no occasion to be in despair on that account."</p><p>"You think that I would only have to prime again."</p><p>"Of course."</p><p>While we were bantering in this edifying fashion, the table had been&#13;
laid, and we sat down to supper. She ate for two and I for four, our&#13;
excellent appetite being excited by the delicate cheer. A sumptuous&#13;
dessert was served in splendid silver-gilt plate, similar to the two&#13;
candlesticks which held four wax candles each. Seeing that I admired&#13;
them, she said:</p><p>"They are a present from my friend."</p><p>"It is a magnificent present, has he given you the snuffers likewise?"</p><p>"No."</p><p>"It is a proof that your friend is a great nobleman."</p><p>"How so?"</p><p>"Because great lords have no idea of snuffing the candle."</p><p>"Our candles have wicks which never require that operation."</p><p>"Good! Tell me who has taught you French."</p><p>"Old La Forest. I have been his pupil for six years. He has also taught&#13;
me to write poetry, but you know a great many words which I never heard&#13;
from him, such as 'a gogo, frustratoire, rater, dorloter'. Who taught you&#13;
these words?"</p><p>"The good company in Paris, and women particularly."</p><p>We made some punch, and amused ourselves in eating oysters after the&#13;
voluptuous fashion of lovers. We sucked them in, one by one, after&#13;
placing them on the other's tongue. Voluptuous reader, try it, and tell&#13;
me whether it is not the nectar of the gods!</p><p>At last, joking was over, and I reminded her that we had to think of more&#13;
substantial pleasures. "Wait here," she said, "I am going to change my&#13;
dress. I shall be back in one minute." Left alone, and not knowing what&#13;
to do, I looked in the drawers of her writing-table. I did not touch the&#13;
letters, but finding a box full of certain preservative sheaths against&#13;
the fatal and dreaded plumpness, I emptied it, and I placed in it the&#13;
following lines instead of the stolen goods:</p><p>'Enfants de L'Amitie, ministres de la Peur, Je suis l'Amour, tremblez,&#13;
respectez le voleur! Et toi, femme de Dieu, ne crains pas d'etre mere;&#13;
Car si to le deviens, Dieu seal sera le pere. S'il est dit cependant que&#13;
tu veux le barren, Parle; je suis tout pret, je me ferai chatrer.'</p><p>My mistress soon returned, dressed like a nymph. A gown of Indian muslin,&#13;
embroidered with gold lilies, spewed to admiration the outline of her&#13;
voluptuous form, and her fine lace-cap was worthy of a queen. I threw&#13;
myself at her feet, entreating her not to delay my happiness any longer.</p><p>"Control your ardour a few moments," she said, "here is the altar, and in&#13;
a few minutes the victim will be in your arms."</p><p>"You will see," she added, going to her writing-table, "how far the&#13;
delicacy and the kind attention of my friend can extend."</p><p>She took the box and opened it, but instead of the pretty sheaths that&#13;
she expected to see, she found my poetry. After reading it aloud, she&#13;
called me a thief, and smothering me with kisses she entreated me to give&#13;
her back what I had stolen, but I pretended not to understand. She then&#13;
read the lines again, considered for one moment, and under pretence of&#13;
getting a better pen, she left the room, saying,</p><p>"I am going to pay you in your own coin."</p><p>She came back after a few minutes and wrote the following six lines:</p><p>'Sans rien oter au plaisir amoureux, L'objet de ton larcin sert a combier&#13;
nos voeux. A l'abri du danger, mon ame satisfaite Savoure en surete&#13;
parfaite; Et si tu veux jauer avec securite, Rends-moi mon doux ami, ces&#13;
dons de l'amitie.</p><p>After this I could not resist any longer, and I gave her back those&#13;
objects so precious to a nun who wants to sacrifice on the altar of&#13;
Venus.</p><p>The clock striking twelve, I shewed her the principal actor who was&#13;
longing to perform, and she arranged the sofa, saying that the alcove&#13;
being too cold we had better sleep on it. But the true reason was that,&#13;
to satisfy the curious lover, it was necessary for us to be seen.</p><p>Dear reader, a picture must have shades, and there is nothing, no matter&#13;
how beautiful in one point of view, that does not require to be sometimes&#13;
veiled if you look at it from a different one. In order to paint the&#13;
diversified scene which took place between me and my lovely mistress&#13;
until the dawn of day, I should have to use all the colours of Aretino's&#13;
palette. I was ardent and full of vigour, but I had to deal with a strong&#13;
partner, and in the morning, after the last exploit, we were positively&#13;
worn out; so much so that my charming nun felt some anxiety on my&#13;
account. It is true that she had seen my blood spurt out and cover her&#13;
bosom during my last offering; and as she did not suspect the true cause&#13;
of that phenomenon, she turned pale with fright. I allayed her anxiety by&#13;
a thousand follies which made her laugh heartily. I washed her splendid&#13;
bosom with rosewater, so as to purify it from the blood by which it had&#13;
been dyed for the first time. She expressed a fear that she had swallowed&#13;
a few drops, but I told her that it was of no consequence, even if were&#13;
the case. She resumed the costume of a nun, and entreating me to lie down&#13;
and to write to her before returning to Venice, so as to let her know how&#13;
I was, she left the casino.</p><p>I had no difficulty in obeying her, for I was truly in great need of&#13;
rest. I slept until evening. As soon as I awoke, I wrote to her that my&#13;
health was excellent, and that I felt quite inclined to begin our&#13;
delightful contest all over again. I asked her to let me know how she was&#13;
herself, and after I had dispatched my letter I returned to Venice.</p><p>CHAPTER XIX</p><p>I Give My Portrait to M. M.--A Present From Her--I Go to the Opera With&#13;
Her--She Plays At the Faro Table and Replenishes My Empty&#13;
Purse--Philosophical Conversation With M. M.--A Letter From C. C.--She&#13;
Knows All--A Ball At the Convent; My Exploits In the Character of&#13;
Pierrot--C. C. Comes to the Casino Instead of M. M.--I Spend the Night&#13;
With Her In A Very Silly Way.</p><p>My dear M---- M---- had expressed a wish to have my portrait, something&#13;
like the one I had given to C---- C----, only larger, to wear it as a&#13;
locket. The outside was to represent some saint, and an invisible spring&#13;
was to remove the sainted picture and expose my likeness. I called upon&#13;
the artist who had painted the other miniature for me, and in three&#13;
sittings I had what I wanted. He afterwards made me an Annunciation, in&#13;
which the angel Gabriel was transformed into a dark-haired saint, and the&#13;
Holy Virgin into a beautiful, light-complexioned woman holding her arms&#13;
towards the angel. The celebrated painter Mengs imitated that idea in the&#13;
picture of the Annunciation which he painted in Madrid twelve years&#13;
afterwards, but I do not know whether he had the same reasons for it as&#13;
my painter. That allegory was exactly of the same size as my portrait,&#13;
and the jeweller who made the locket arranged it in such a manner that no&#13;
one could suppose the sacred image to be there only for the sake of&#13;
hiding a profane likeness.</p><p>The end of January, 1754, before going to the casino, I called upon Laura&#13;
to give her a letter for C---- C----, and she handed me one from her which&#13;
amused me. My beautiful nun had initiated that young girl, not only into&#13;
the mysteries of Sappho, but also in high metaphysics, and C---- C---- had&#13;
consequently become a Freethinker. She wrote to me that, objecting to&#13;
give an account of her affairs to her confessor, and yet not wishing to&#13;
tell him falsehoods, she had made up her mind to tell him nothing.</p><p>"He has remarked," she added, "that perhaps I do not confess anything to&#13;
him because I did not examine my conscience sufficiently, and I answered&#13;
him that I had nothing to say, but that if he liked I would commit a few&#13;
sins for the purpose of having something to tell him in confession."</p><p>I thought this reply worthy of a thorough sophist, and laughed heartily.</p><p>On the same day I received the following letter from my adorable nun "I&#13;
write to you from my bed, dearest browny, because I cannot remain&#13;
standing on my feet. I am almost dead. But I am not anxious about it; a&#13;
little rest will make me all right, for I eat well and sleep soundly. You&#13;
have made me very happy by writing to me that your bleeding has not had&#13;
any evil consequences, and I give you fair notice that I shall have the&#13;
proof of it on Twelfth Night, at least if you like; that is understood,&#13;
and you will let me know. In case you should feel disposed to grant me&#13;
that favour, my darling, I wish to go to the opera. At all events,&#13;
recollect that I positively forbid the whites of eggs for the future, for&#13;
I would rather have a little less enjoyment and more security respecting&#13;
your health. In future, when you go to the casino of Muran, please to&#13;
enquire whether there is anybody there, and if you receive an affirmative&#13;
answer, go away. My friend will do the same. In that manner you will not&#13;
run the risk of meeting one another, but you need not observe these&#13;
precautions for long, if you wish, for my friend is extremely fond of&#13;
you, and has a great desire to make your acquaintance. He has told me&#13;
that, if he had not seen it with his own eyes, he never would have&#13;
believed that a man could run the race that you ran so splendidly the&#13;
other night, but he says that, by making love in that manner, you bid&#13;
defiance to death, for he is certain that the blood you lost comes from&#13;
the brain. But what will he say when he hears that you only laugh at the&#13;
occurrence? I am going to make you very merry: he wants to eat the salad&#13;
of whites of eggs, and he wants me to ask you for some of your vinegar,&#13;
because there is none in Venice. He said that he spent a delightful&#13;
night, in spite of his fear of the evil consequences of our amorous&#13;
sport, and he has found my own efforts superior to the usual weakness of&#13;
my sex. That may be the case, dearest browny, but I am delighted to have&#13;
done such wonders, and to have made such trial of my strength. Without&#13;
you, darling of my heart, I should have lived without knowing myself, and&#13;
I wonder whether it is possible for nature to create a woman who could&#13;
remain insensible in your arms, or rather one who would not receive new&#13;
life by your side. It is more than love that I feel for you, it is&#13;
idolatry; and my mouth, longing to meet yours, sends forth thousands of&#13;
kisses which are wasted in the air. I am panting for your divine&#13;
portrait, so as to quench by a sweet illusion the fire which devours my&#13;
amorous lips. I trust my likeness will prove equally dear to you, for it&#13;
seems to me that nature has created us for one another, and I curse the&#13;
fatal instant in which I raised an invincible barrier between us. You&#13;
will find enclosed the key of my bureau. Open it, and take a parcel on&#13;
which you will see written, 'For my darling.' It is a small present which&#13;
my friend wishes me to offer you in exchange for the beautiful night-cap&#13;
that you gave me. Adieu."</p><p>The small key enclosed in the letter belonged to a bureau in the boudoir.&#13;
Anxious to know the nature of the present that she could offer me at the&#13;
instance of her friend, I opened the bureau, and found a parcel&#13;
containing a letter and a morocco-leather case.</p><p>The letter was as follows:</p><p>"That which will, I hope, render this present dear to you is the portrait&#13;
of a woman who adores you. Our friend had two of them, but the great&#13;
friendship he entertains towards you has given him the happy idea of&#13;
disposing of one in your favour. This box contains two portraits of me,&#13;
which are to be seen in two different ways: if you take off the bottom&#13;
part, of the case in its length, you will see me as a nun; and if you&#13;
press on the corner, the top will open and expose me to your sight in a&#13;
state of nature. It is not possible, dearest, that a woman can ever have&#13;
loved you as I do. Our friend excites my passion by the flattering&#13;
opinion that he entertains of you. I cannot decide whether I am more&#13;
fortunate in my friend or in my lover, for I could not imagine any being&#13;
superior to either one or the other."</p><p>The case contained a gold snuff-box, and a small quantity of Spanish&#13;
snuff which had been left in it proved that it had been used. I followed&#13;
the instructions given in the letter, and I first saw my mistress in the&#13;
costume of a nun, standing and in half profile. The second secret spring&#13;
brought her before my eyes, entirely naked, lying on a mattress of black&#13;
satin, in the position of the Madeleine of Coreggio. She was looking at&#13;
Love, who had the quiver at his feet, and was gracefully sitting on the&#13;
nun's robes. It was such a beautiful present that I did not think myself&#13;
worthy of it. I wrote to M---- M---- a letter in which the deepest&#13;
gratitude was blended with the most exalted love. The drawers of the&#13;
bureau contained all her diamonds and four purses full of sequins. I&#13;
admired her noble confidence in me. I locked the bureau, leaving&#13;
everything undisturbed, and returned to Venice. If I had been able to&#13;
escape out of the capricious clutches of fortune by giving up gambling,&#13;
my happiness would have been complete.</p><p>My own portrait was set with rare perfection, and as it was arranged to&#13;
be worn round the neck I attached it to six yards of Venetian chain,&#13;
which made it a very handsome present. The secret was in the ring to&#13;
which it was suspended, and it was very difficult to discover it. To make&#13;
the spring work and expose my likeness it was necessary to pull the ring&#13;
with some force and in a peculiar manner. Otherwise, nothing could be&#13;
seen but the Annunciation; and it was then a beautiful ornament for a&#13;
nun.</p><p>On Twelfth Night, having the locket and chain in my pocket, I went early&#13;
in the evening to watch near the fine statue erected to the hero Colleoni&#13;
after he had been poisoned, if history does not deceive us. 'Sit divus,&#13;
modo non vivus', is a sentence from the enlightened monarch, which will&#13;
last as long as there are monarchs on earth.</p><p>At six o'clock precisely my mistress alighted from the gondola, well&#13;
dressed and well masked, but this time in the garb of a woman. We went to&#13;
the Saint Samuel opera, and after the second ballet we repaired to the&#13;
'ridotto', where she amused herself by looking at all the ladies of the&#13;
nobility who alone had the right to walk about without masks. After&#13;
rambling about for half an hour, we entered the hall where the bank was&#13;
held. She stopped before the table of M. Mocenigo, who at that time was&#13;
the best amongst all the noble gamblers. As nobody was playing, he was&#13;
carelessly whispering to a masked lady, whom I recognized as Madame&#13;
Marina Pitani, whose adorer he was.</p><p>M---- M---- enquired whether I wanted to play, and as I answered in the&#13;
negative she said to me,</p><p>"I take you for my partner."</p><p>And without waiting for my answer she took a purse, and placed a pile of&#13;
gold on a card. The banker without disturbing himself shuffled the cards,&#13;
turned them up, and my friend won the paroli. The banker paid, took&#13;
another pack of cards, and continued his conversation with his lady,&#13;
shewing complete indifference for four hundred sequins which my friend&#13;
had already placed on the same card. The banker continuing his&#13;
conversations, M---- M---- said to me, in excellent French,</p><p>"Our stakes are not high enough to interest this gentleman; let us go."</p><p>I took up the gold, which I put in my pocket, without answering M. de&#13;
Mocenigo, who said to me:</p><p>"Your mask is too exacting."</p><p>I rejoined my lovely gambler, who was surrounded. We stopped soon&#13;
afterwards before the bank of M. Pierre Marcello, a charming young man,&#13;
who had near him Madame Venier, sister of the patrician Momolo. My&#13;
mistress began to play, and lost five rouleaux of gold one after the&#13;
other. Having no more money, she took handfuls of gold from my pocket,&#13;
and in four or five deals she broke the bank. She went away, and the&#13;
noble banker, bowing, complimented her upon her good fortune. After I had&#13;
taken care of all the gold she had won, I gave her my arm, and we left&#13;
the 'ridotto', but remarking that a few inquisitive persons were&#13;
following us, I took a gondola which landed us according to my&#13;
instructions. One can always escape prying eyes in this way in Venice.</p><p>After supper I counted our winnings, and I found myself in possession of&#13;
one thousand sequins as my share. I rolled the remainder in paper, and my&#13;
friend asked me to put it in her bureau. I then took my locket and threw&#13;
it over her neck; it gave her the greatest delight, and she tried for a&#13;
long time to discover the secret. At last I showed it her, and she&#13;
pronounced my portrait an excellent likeness.</p><p>Recollecting that we had but three hours to devote to the pleasures of&#13;
love, I entreated her to allow me to turn them to good account.</p><p>"Yes," she said, "but be prudent, for our friend pretends that you might&#13;
die on the spot."</p><p>"And why does he not fear the same danger for you, when your ecstasies&#13;
are in reality much more frequent than mine?"</p><p>"He says that the liquor distilled by us women does not come from the&#13;
brain, as is the case with men, and that the generating parts of woman&#13;
have no contact with her intellect. The consequence of it, he says, is&#13;
that the child is not the offspring of the mother as far as the brain,&#13;
the seat of reason, is concerned, but of the father, and it seems to me&#13;
very true. In that important act the woman has scarcely the amount of&#13;
reason that she is in need of, and she cannot have any left to enable her&#13;
to give a dose to the being she is generating."</p><p>"Your friend is a very learned man. But do you know that such a way of&#13;
arguing opens my eyes singularly? It is evident that, if that system be&#13;
true, women ought to be forgiven for all the follies which they commit&#13;
on account of love, whilst man is inexcusable, and I should be in&#13;
despair if I happened to place you in a position to become a mother."</p><p>"I shall know before long, and if it should be the case so much the&#13;
better. My mind is made up, and my decision taken."</p><p>"And what is that decision?"</p><p>"To abandon my destiny entirely to you both. I am quite certain that&#13;
neither one nor the other would let me remain at the convent."</p><p>"It would be a fatal event which would decide our future destinies. I&#13;
would carry you off, and take you to England to marry you."</p><p>"My friend thinks that a physician might be bought, who, under the&#13;
pretext of some disease of his own invention, would prescribe to me to go&#13;
somewhere to drink the waters--a permission which the bishop might grant.&#13;
At the watering-place I would get cured, and come back here, but I would&#13;
much rather unite our destinies for ever. Tell me, dearest, could you&#13;
manage to live anywhere as comfortably as you do here?"</p><p>"Alas! my love, no, but with you how could I be unhappy? But we will&#13;
resume that subject whenever it may be necessary. Let us go to bed."</p><p>"Yes. If I have a son my friend wishes to act towards him as a father."</p><p>"Would he believe himself to be the father?"</p><p>"You might both of you believe it, but some likeness would soon enlighten&#13;
me as to which of you two was the true father."</p><p>"Yes. If, for instance, the child composed poetry, then you would suppose&#13;
that he was the son of your friend."</p><p>"How do you know that my friend can write poetry?"</p><p>"Admit that he is the author of the six lines which you wrote in answer&#13;
to mine."</p><p>"I cannot possibly admit such a falsehood, because, good or bad, they&#13;
were of my own making, and so as to leave you no doubt let me convince&#13;
you of it at once."</p><p>"Oh, never mind! I believe you, and let us go to bed, or Love will call&#13;
out the god of Parnassus."</p><p>"Let him do it, but take this pencil and write; I am Apollo, you may be&#13;
Love:"</p><p>'Je ne me battrai pas; je te cede la place. Si Venus est ma soeur,&#13;
L'Amour est de ma race. Je sais faire des vers. Un instant de perdu&#13;
N'offense pas L'Amour, si je l'ai convaincu.</p><p>"It is on my knees that I entreat your pardon, my heavenly friend, but&#13;
how could I expect so much talent in a young daughter of Venice, only&#13;
twenty-two years of age, and, above all, brought up in a convent?"</p><p>"I have a most insatiate desire to prove myself more and more worthy of&#13;
you. Did you think I was prudent at the gaming-table?"</p><p>"Prudent enough to make the most intrepid banker tremble."</p><p>"I do not always play so well, but I had taken you as a partner, and I&#13;
felt I could set fortune at defiance. Why would you not play?"</p><p>"Because I had lost four thousand sequins last week and I was without&#13;
money, but I shall play to-morrow, and fortune will smile upon me. In the&#13;
mean time, here is a small book which I have brought from your boudoir:&#13;
the postures of Pietro Aretino; I want to try some of them."</p><p>"The thought is worthy of you, but some of these positions could not be&#13;
executed, and others are insipid."</p><p>"True, but I have chosen four very interesting ones."</p><p>These delightful labours occupied the remainder of the night until the&#13;
alarum warned us that it was time to part. I accompanied my lovely nun as&#13;
far as her gondola, and then went to bed; but I could not sleep. I got up&#13;
in order to go and pay a few small debts, for one of the greatest&#13;
pleasures that a spendthrift can enjoy is, in my opinion, to discharge&#13;
certain liabilities. The gold won by my mistress proved lucky for me, for&#13;
I did not pass a single day of the carnival without winning.</p><p>Three days after Twelfth Night, having paid a visit to the casino of&#13;
Muran for the purpose of placing some gold in M---- M---- 's bureau, the&#13;
door-keeper handed me a letter from my nun. Laura had, a few minutes&#13;
before, delivered me one from C---- C----.</p><p>My new mistress, after giving me an account of her health, requested me&#13;
to enquire from my jeweller whether he had not by chance made a ring&#13;
having on its bezel a St. Catherine which, without a doubt, concealed&#13;
another portrait; she wished to know the secret of that ring. "A young&#13;
boarder," she added, "a lovely girl, and my friend, is the owner of that&#13;
ring. There must be a secret, but she does not know it." I answered that&#13;
I would do what she wished. But here is the letter of C---- C----. It was&#13;
rather amusing, because it placed me in a regular dilemma; it bore a late&#13;
date, but the letter of M---- M---- had been written two days before it.</p><p>"Ali! how truly happy I am, my beloved husband! You love Sister&#13;
M---- M----, my dear friend. She has a locket as big as a ring, and she&#13;
cannot have received it from anyone but you. I am certain that your dear&#13;
likeness is to be found under the Annunciation. I recognized the style of&#13;
the artist, and it is certainly the same who painted the locket and my&#13;
ring. I am satisfied that Sister M---M---has received that present from&#13;
you. I am so pleased to know all that I would not run the risk of&#13;
grieving her by telling her that I knew her secret, but my dear friend,&#13;
either more open or more curious, has not imitated my reserve. She told&#13;
me that she had no doubt of my St. Catherine concealing the portrait of&#13;
my lover. Unable to say anything better, I told her that the ring was in&#13;
reality a gift from my lover, but that I had no idea of his portrait&#13;
being concealed inside of it. 'If it is as you say,' observed M---- M----,&#13;
'and if you have no objection, I will try to find out the secret, and&#13;
afterwards I will let you know mine.' Being quite certain that she would&#13;
not discover it, I gave her my ring, saying that, if she could find out&#13;
the secret, I should be very much pleased.</p><p>"Just as that moment my aunt paid me a visit, and I left my ring in the&#13;
hands of M---- M----, who returned it to me after dinner, assuring me&#13;
that, although she had not been able to find out the secret, she was&#13;
certain there was one. I promise you that she shall never hear anything&#13;
about it from me, because if she saw your portrait, she would guess&#13;
everything, and then I should have to tell her who you are. I am sorry to&#13;
be compelled to conceal anything from her, but I am very glad you love&#13;
one another. I pity you both, however, with all my heart, because I know&#13;
that you are obliged to make love through a grating in that horrid&#13;
parlour. How I wish, dearest, I could give you my place! I would make two&#13;
persons happy at the same time! Adieu!"</p><p>I answered that she had guessed rightly, that the locket of her friend&#13;
was a present from me and contained my likeness, but that she was to keep&#13;
the secret, and to be certain that my friendship for M---- M---- interfered&#13;
in no way with the feeling which bound me to her for ever. I certainly&#13;
was well aware that I was not behaving in a straightforward manner, but I&#13;
endeavoured to deceive myself, so true it is that a woman, weak as she&#13;
is, has more influence by the feeling she inspires than man can possibly&#13;
have with all his strength. At all events, I was foolishly trying to keep&#13;
up an intrigue which I knew to be near its denouement through the&#13;
intimacy that had sprung up between these two friendly rivals.</p><p>Laura having informed me that there was to be on a certain day a ball in&#13;
the large parlour of the convent, I made up my mind to attend it in such&#13;
a disguise that my two friends could not recognize me. I decided upon the&#13;
costume of a Pierrot, because it conceals the form and the gait better&#13;
than any other. I was certain that my two friends would be behind the&#13;
grating, and that it would afford me the pleasant opportunity of seeing&#13;
them together and of comparing them. In Venice, during the carnival, that&#13;
innocent pleasure is allowed in convents. The guests dance in the&#13;
parlour, and the sisters remain behind the grating, enjoying the sight of&#13;
the ball, which is over by sunset. Then all the guests retire, and the&#13;
poor nuns are for a long time happy in the recollection of the pleasure&#13;
enjoyed by their eyes. The ball was to take place in the afternoon of the&#13;
day appointed for my meeting with M---- M----, in the evening at the&#13;
casino of Muran, but that could not prevent me from going to the ball;&#13;
besides, I wanted to see my dear C---- C----.</p><p>I have said before that the dress of a Pierrot is the costume which&#13;
disguises the figure and the gait most completely. It has also the&#13;
advantage, through a large cap, of concealing the hair, and the white&#13;
gauze which covers the face does not allow the colour of the eyes or of&#13;
the eyebrows to be seen, but in order to prevent the costume from&#13;
hindering the movements of the mask, he must not wear anything&#13;
underneath, and in winter a dress made of light calico is not&#13;
particularly agreeable. I did not, however, pay any attention to that,&#13;
and taking only a plate of soup I went to Muran in a gondola. I had no&#13;
cloak, and--in my pockets I had nothing but my handkerchief, my purse,&#13;
and the key of the casino.</p><p>I went at once to the convent. The parlour was full, but thanks to my&#13;
costume of Pierrot, which was seen in Venice but very seldom, everybody&#13;
made room for me. I walked on, assuming the gait of a booby, the true&#13;
characteristic of my costume, and I stopped near the dancers. After I had&#13;
examined the Pantaloons, Punches, Harlequins, and Merry Andrews, I went&#13;
near the grating, where I saw all the nuns and boarders, some seated,&#13;
some standing, and, without appearing to, notice any of them in&#13;
particular, I remarked my two friends together, and very intent upon the&#13;
dancers. I then walked round the room, eyeing everybody from head to&#13;
foot, and calling the general attention upon myself.</p><p>I chose for my partner in the minuet a pretty girl dressed as a&#13;
Columbine, and I took her hand in so awkward a manner and with such an&#13;
air of stupidity that everybody laughed and made room for us. My partner&#13;
danced very well according to her costume, and I kept my character with&#13;
such perfection that the laughter was general. After the minuet I danced&#13;
twelve forlanas with the greatest vigour. Out of breath, I threw myself&#13;
on a sofa, pretending to go to sleep, and the moment I began to snore&#13;
everybody respected the slumbers of Pierrot. The quadrille lasted one&#13;
hour, and I took no part in it, but immediately after it, a Harlequin&#13;
approached me with the impertinence which belongs to his costume, and&#13;
flogged me with his wand. It is Harlequin's weapon. In my quality of&#13;
Pierrot I had no weapons. I seized him round the waist and carried him&#13;
round the parlour, running all the time, while he kept on flogging me. I&#13;
then put him down. Adroitly snatching his wand out of his hand, I lifted&#13;
his Columbine on my shoulders, and pursued him, striking him with the&#13;
wand, to the great delight and mirth of the company. The Columbine was&#13;
screaming because she was afraid of my tumbling down and of shewing her&#13;
centre of gravity to everybody in the fall. She had good reason to fear,&#13;
for suddenly a foolish Merry Andrew came behind me, tripped me up, and&#13;
down I tumbled. Everybody hooted Master Punch. I quickly picked myself&#13;
up, and rather vexed I began a regular fight with the insolent fellow. He&#13;
was of my size, but awkward, and he had nothing but strength. I threw&#13;
him, and shaking him vigorously on all sides I contrived to deprive him&#13;
of his hump and false stomach. The nuns, who had never seen such a merry&#13;
sight, clapped their hands, everybody laughed loudly, and improving my&#13;
opportunity I ran through the crowd and disappeared.</p><p>I was in a perspiration, and the weather was cold; I threw myself into a&#13;
gondola, and in order not to get chilled I landed at the 'ridotto'. I had&#13;
two hours to spare before going to the casino of Muran, and I longed to&#13;
enjoy the astonishment of my beautiful nun when she saw M. Pierrot&#13;
standing before her. I spent those two hours in playing at all the banks,&#13;
winning, losing, and performing all sorts of antics with complete&#13;
freedom, being satisfied that no one could recognize me; enjoying the&#13;
present, bidding defiance to the future, and laughing at all those&#13;
reasonable beings who exercise their reason to avoid the misfortunes&#13;
which they fear, destroying at the same time the pleasure that they might&#13;
enjoy.</p><p>But two o'clock struck and gave me warning that Love and Comus were&#13;
calling me to bestow new delights upon me. With my pockets full of gold&#13;
and silver, I left the ridotto, hurried to Muran, entered the sanctuary,&#13;
and saw my divinity leaning against the mantelpiece. She wore her convent&#13;
dress. I come near her by stealth, in order to enjoy her surprise. I look&#13;
at her, and I remain petrified, astounded.</p><p>The person I see is not M---- M----</p><p>It is C---- C----, dressed as a nun, who, more astonished even than&#13;
myself, does not utter one word or make a movement. I throw myself in an&#13;
arm-chair in order to breathe and to recover from my surprise. The sight&#13;
of C---- C---- had annihilated me, and my mind was as much stupefied as my&#13;
body. I found myself in an inextricable maze.</p><p>It is M---- M----, I said to myself, who has played that trick upon me,&#13;
but how has she contrived to know that I am the lover of C---- C----? Has&#13;
C---- C---- betrayed my secret? But if she has betrayed it, how could&#13;
M---- M---- deprive herself of the pleasure of seeing me, and consent to&#13;
her place being taken by her friend and rival? That cannot be a mark of&#13;
kind compliance, for a woman never carries it to such an extreme. I see&#13;
in it only a mark of contempt--a gratuitous insult.</p><p>My self-love tried hard to imagine some reason likely to disprove the&#13;
possibility of that contempt, but in vain. Absorbed in that dark&#13;
discontent, I believed myself wantonly trifled with, deceived, despised,&#13;
and I spent half an hour silent and gloomy, staring at C---- C----, who&#13;
scarcely dared to breathe, perplexed, confused, and not knowing in whose&#13;
presence she was, for she could only know me as the Pierrot whom she had&#13;
seen at the ball.</p><p>Deeply in love with M---- M----, and having come to the casino only for&#13;
her, I did not feel disposed to accept the exchange, although I was very&#13;
far from despising C---- C----, whose charms were as great, at least, as&#13;
those of M---- M----. I loved her tenderly, I adored her, but at that&#13;
moment it was not her whom I wanted, because at first her presence had&#13;
struck me as a mystification. It seemed to me that if I celebrated the&#13;
return of C---- C---- in an amorous manner, I would fail in what I owed to&#13;
myself, and I thought that I was bound in honour not to lend myself to&#13;
the imposition. Besides, without exactly realizing that feeling, I was&#13;
not sorry to have it in my power to reproach M---- M---- with an&#13;
indifference very strange in a woman in love, and I wanted to act in such&#13;
a manner that she should not be able to say that she had procured me a&#13;
pleasure. I must add that I suspected M---- M---- to be hiding in the&#13;
secret closet, perhaps with her friend.</p><p>I had to take a decision, for I could not pass the whole night in my&#13;
costume of Pierrot, and without speaking. At first I thought of going&#13;
away, the more so that both C---- C---- and her friend could not be certain&#13;
that I and Pierrot were the same individual, but I soon abandoned the&#13;
idea with horror, thinking of the deep sorrow which would fill the loving&#13;
soul of C---- C---- if she ever heard I was the Pierrot. I almost fancied&#13;
that she knew it already, and I shared the grief which she evidently&#13;
would feel in that case. I had seduced her. I had given her the right to&#13;
call me her husband. These thoughts broke my heart.</p><p>If M---- M---- is in the closet, said I to myself, she will shew herself in&#13;
good time. With that idea, I took off the gauze which covered my&#13;
features. My lovely C---- C---- gave a deep sigh, and said:</p><p>"I breathe again! it could not be anyone but you, my heart felt it. You&#13;
seemed surprised when you saw me, dearest; did you not know that I was&#13;
waiting for you?"</p><p>"I had not the faintest idea of it."</p><p>"If you are angry, I regret it deeply, but I am innocent."</p><p>"My adored friend, come to my arms, and never suppose that I can be angry&#13;
with you. I am delighted to see you; you are always my dear wife: but I&#13;
entreat you to clear up a cruel doubt, for you could never have betrayed&#13;
my secret."</p><p>"I! I would never have been guilty of such a thing, even if death had&#13;
stared me in the face."</p><p>"Then, how did you come here? How did your friend contrive to discover&#13;
everything? No one but you could tell her that I am your husband. Laura&#13;
perhaps....'</p><p>"No, Laura is faithful, dearest, and I cannot guess how it was."</p><p>"But how could you be persuaded to assume that disguise, and to come&#13;
here? You can leave the convent, and you have never apprised me of that&#13;
important circumstance."</p><p>"Can you suppose that I would not have told you all about it, if I had&#13;
ever left the convent, even once? I came out of it two hours ago, for the&#13;
first time, and I was induced to take that step in the simplest, the most&#13;
natural manner."</p><p>"Tell me all about it, my love. I feel extremely curious."</p><p>"I am glad of it, and I would conceal nothing from you. You know how&#13;
dearly M---- M---- and I love each other. No intimacy could be more tender&#13;
than ours; you can judge of it by what I told you in my letters. Well,&#13;
two days ago, my dear friend begged the abbess and my aunt to allow me to&#13;
sleep in her room in the place of the lay-sister, who, having a very bad&#13;
cold, had carried her cough to the infirmary. The permission was granted,&#13;
and you cannot imagine our pleasure in seeing ourselves at liberty, for&#13;
the first time, to sleep in the same bed. To-day, shortly after you had&#13;
left the parlour, where you so much amused us, without our discovering&#13;
that the delightful Pierrot was our friend, my dear M---- M---- retired to&#13;
her room and I followed her. The moment we were alone she told me that&#13;
she wanted me to render her a service from which depended our happiness.&#13;
I need not tell you how readily I answered that she had only to name it.&#13;
Then she opened a drawer, and much to my surprise she dressed me in this&#13;
costume. She was laughing; and I did the same without suspecting the end&#13;
of the joke. When she saw me entirely metamorphosed into a nun, she told&#13;
me that she was going to trust me with a great secret, but that she&#13;
entertained no fear of my discretion. 'Let me tell you, clearest friend,'&#13;
she said to me, 'that I was on the point of going out of the convent, to&#13;
return only tomorrow morning. I have, however, just decided that you&#13;
shall go instead. You have nothing to fear and you do not require any&#13;
instructions, because I know that you will meet with no difficulty. In an&#13;
hour, a lay-sister will come here, I will speak a few words apart to her,&#13;
and she will tell you to follow her. You will go out with her through the&#13;
small gate and across the garden as far as the room leading out to the&#13;
low shore. There you will get into the gondola, and say to the gondolier&#13;
these words: 'To the casino.' You will reach it in five minutes; you will&#13;
step out and enter a small apartment, where you will find a good fire;&#13;
you will be alone, and you will wait.' 'For whom? I enquired. 'For&#13;
nobody. You need not know any more: you may only be certain that nothing&#13;
unpleasant will happen to you; trust me for that. You will sup at the&#13;
casino, and sleep, if you like, without being disturbed. Do not ask any&#13;
questions, for I cannot answer them. Such is, my dear husband, the whole&#13;
truth. Tell me now what I could do after that speech of my friend, and&#13;
after she had received my promise to do whatever she wished. Do not&#13;
distrust what I tell you, for my lips cannot utter a falsehood. I&#13;
laughed, and not expecting anything else but an agreeable adventure, I&#13;
followed the lay-sister and soon found myself here. After a tedious hour&#13;
of expectation, Pierrot made his appearance. Be quite certain that the&#13;
very moment I saw you my heart knew who it was, but a minute after I felt&#13;
as if the lightning had struck me when I saw you step back, for I saw&#13;
clearly enough that you did not expect to find me. Your gloomy silence&#13;
frightened me, and I would never have dared to be the first in breaking&#13;
it; the more so that, in spite of the feelings of my heart, I might have&#13;
been mistaken. The dress of Pierrot might conceal some other man, but&#13;
certainly no one that I could have seen in this place without horror.&#13;
Recollect that for the last eight months I have been deprived of the&#13;
happiness of kissing you, and now that you must be certain of my&#13;
innocence, allow me to congratulate you upon knowing this casino. You are&#13;
happy, and I congratulate you with all my heart. M---- M---- is, after me,&#13;
the only woman worthy of your love, the only one with whom I could&#13;
consent to share it. I used to pity you, but I do so no longer, and your&#13;
happiness makes me happy. Kiss me now."</p><p>I should have been very ungrateful, I should, even have been cruel, if I&#13;
had not then folded in my arms with the warmth of true love the angel of&#13;
goodness and beauty who was before me, thanks to the most wonderful&#13;
effort of friendship.</p><p>After assuring her that I no longer entertained any doubt of her&#13;
innocence, I told her that I thought the behaviour of her friend very&#13;
ambiguous. I said that, notwithstanding the pleasure I felt in seeing&#13;
her, the trick played upon me by her friend was a very bad one, that it&#13;
could not do otherwise than displease me greatly, because it was an&#13;
insult to me.</p><p>"I am not of your opinion," replied C---- C----.</p><p>"My dear M---- M---- has evidently contrived, somehow or other, to discover&#13;
that, before you were acquainted with her, you were my lover. She thought&#13;
very likely that you still loved me, and she imagined, for I know her&#13;
well, that she could not give us a greater proof of her love than by&#13;
procuring us, without forewarning us, that which two lovers fond of each&#13;
other must wish for so ardently. She wished to make us happy, and I&#13;
cannot be angry with her for it."</p><p>"You are right to think so, dearest, but my position is very different&#13;
from yours. You have not another lover; you could not have another; but I&#13;
being free and unable to see you, have not found it possible to resist&#13;
the charms of M---- M----. I love her madly; she knows it, and,&#13;
intelligent as she is, she must have meant to shew her contempt for me by&#13;
doing what she has done. I candidly confess that I feel hurt in the&#13;
highest degree. If she loved me as I love her, she never could have sent&#13;
you here instead of coming herself."</p><p>"I do not think so, my beloved friend. Her soul is as noble as her heart&#13;
is generous; and just in the same manner that I am not sorry to know that&#13;
you love one another and that you make each other happy, as this&#13;
beautiful casino proves to me, she does not regret our love, and she is,&#13;
on the contrary, delighted to shew us that she approves of it. Most&#13;
likely she meant to prove that she loved you for your own sake, that your&#13;
happiness makes her happy, and that she is not jealous of her best friend&#13;
being her rival. To convince you that you ought not to be angry with her&#13;
for having discovered our secret, she proves, by sending me here in her&#13;
place, that she is pleased to see your heart divided between her and me.&#13;
You know very well that she loves me, and that I am often either her wife&#13;
or her husband, and as you do not object to my being your rival and&#13;
making her often as happy as I can, she does not want you either to&#13;
suppose that her love is like hatred, for the love of a jealous heart is&#13;
very much like it."</p><p>"You plead the cause of your friend with the eloquence of an angel, but,&#13;
dear little wife, you do not see the affair in its proper light. You have&#13;
intelligence and a pure soul, but you have not my experience.&#13;
M---- M----'s love for me has been nothing but a passing fancy, and she&#13;
knows that I am not such an idiot as to be deceived by all this affair. I&#13;
am miserable, and it is her doing."</p><p>"Then I should be right if I complained of her also, because she makes me&#13;
feel that she is the mistress of my lover, and she shews me that, after&#13;
seducing him from me, she gives him back to me without difficulty. Then&#13;
she wishes me to understand that she despises also my tender affection&#13;
for her, since she places me in a position to shew that affection for&#13;
another person."</p><p>"Now, dearest, you speak without reason, for the relations between you&#13;
two are of an entirely different nature. Your mutual love is nothing but&#13;
trifling nonsense, mere illusion of the senses. The pleasures which you&#13;
enjoy together are not exclusive. To become jealous of one another it&#13;
would be necessary that one of you two should feel a similar affection&#13;
for another woman but M---- M---- could no more be angry at your having a&#13;
lover than you could be so yourself if she had one; provided, however,&#13;
that the lover should not belong to the other."</p><p>"But that is precisely our case, and you are mistaken. We are not angry&#13;
at your loving us both equally. Have I not written to you that I would&#13;
most willingly give you my place near M---- M----? Then you must believe&#13;
that I despise you likewise?"</p><p>"My darling, that wish of yours to give me up your place, when you did&#13;
not know that I was happy with M---- M----, arose from your friendship&#13;
rather than from your love, and for the present I must be glad to see&#13;
that your friendship is stronger than your love, but I have every reason&#13;
to be sorry when M---- M---- feels the same. I love her without any&#13;
possibility of marrying her. Do you understand me, dearest? As for you,&#13;
knowing that you must be my wife, I am certain of our love, which&#13;
practice will animate with new life. It is not the same with M---- M----;&#13;
that love cannot spring up again into existence. Is it not humiliating&#13;
for me to have inspired her with nothing but a passing fancy? I&#13;
understand your adoration for her very well. She has initiated you into&#13;
all her mysteries, and you owe her eternal friendship and everlasting&#13;
gratitude."</p><p>It was midnight, and we went on wasting our time in this desultory&#13;
conversation, when the prudent and careful servant brought us an&#13;
excellent supper. I could not touch anything, my heart was too full, but&#13;
my dear little wife supped with a good appetite. I could not help&#13;
laughing when I saw a salad of whites of eggs, and C---- C---- thought it&#13;
extraordinary because all the yolks had been removed. In her innocence,&#13;
she could not understand the intention of the person who had ordered the&#13;
supper. As I looked at her, I was compelled to acknowledge that she had&#13;
improved in beauty; in fact C---- C---- was remarkably beautiful, yet I&#13;
remained cold by her side. I have always thought that there is no merit&#13;
in being faithful to the person we truly love.</p><p>Two hours before day-light we resumed our seats near the fire, and&#13;
C---- C----, seeing how dull I was, was delicately attentive to me. She&#13;
attempted no allurement, all her movements wore the stamp of the most&#13;
decent reserve, and her conversation, tender in its expressions and&#13;
perfectly easy, never conveyed the shadow of a reproach for my coolness.</p><p>Towards the end of our long conversation, she asked me what she should&#13;
say to her friend on her return to the convent.</p><p>"My dear M---- M---- expects to see me full of joy and gratitude for the&#13;
generous present she thought she was making me by giving me this night,&#13;
but what shall I tell her?"</p><p>"The whole truth. Do not keep from her a single word of our conversation,&#13;
as far as your memory will serve you, and tell her especially that she&#13;
has made me miserable for a long time."</p><p>"No, for I should cause her too great a sorrow; she loves you dearly, and&#13;
cherishes the locket which contains your likeness. I mean, on the&#13;
contrary, to do all I can to bring peace between you two, and I must&#13;
succeed before long, because my friend is not guilty of any wrong, and&#13;
you only feel some spite, although with no cause. I will send you my&#13;
letter by Laura, unless you promise me to go and fetch it yourself at her&#13;
house."</p><p>"Your letters will always be dear to me, but, mark my words,&#13;
M---- M---- will not enter into any explanation. She will believe you in&#13;
everything, except in one."</p><p>"I suppose you mean our passing a whole night together as innocently as&#13;
if we were brother and sister. If she knows you as well as I do, she will&#13;
indeed think it most wonderful."</p><p>"In that case, you may tell her the contrary, if you like."</p><p>"Nothing of the sort. I hate falsehoods, and I will certainly never utter&#13;
one in such a case as this; it would be very wrong. I do not love you&#13;
less on that account, my darling, although, during this long night, you&#13;
have not condescended to give me the slightest proof of your love."</p><p>"Believe me, dearest, I am sick from unhappiness. I love you with my&#13;
whole soul, but I am in such a situation that...."</p><p>"What! you are weeping, my love! Oh! I entreat you, spare my heart! I am&#13;
so sorry to have told you such a thing, but I can assure you I never&#13;
meant to make you unhappy. I am sure that in a quarter of an hour&#13;
M---- M---- will be crying likewise."</p><p>The alarum struck, and, having no longer any hope of seeing&#13;
M---- M---- come to justify herself, I kissed C---- C----. I gave her the&#13;
key of the casino, requesting her to return it for me to M---- M----, and&#13;
my young friend having gone back to the convent, I put on my mask and&#13;
left the casino.</p><p>CHAPTER XX</p><p>I Am in Danger of Perishing in the Lagunes--Illness--Letters from C. C.&#13;
and M. M.--The Quarrel is Made Up--Meeting at the Casino of Muran I Learn&#13;
the Name of M. M.'s Friend, and Consent to Give Him A Supper at My Casino&#13;
in the Company of Our Common Mistress</p><p>The weather was fearful. The wind was blowing fiercely, and it was&#13;
bitterly cold. When I reached the shore, I looked for a gondola, I called&#13;
the gondoliers, but, in contravention to the police regulations, there&#13;
was neither gondola nor gondolier. What was I to do? Dressed in light&#13;
linen, I was hardly in a fit state to walk along the wharf for an hour in&#13;
such weather. I should most likely have gone back to the casino if I had&#13;
had the key, but I was paying the penalty of the foolish spite which had&#13;
made me give it up. The wind almost carried me off my feet, and there was&#13;
no house that I could enter to get a shelter.</p><p>I had in my pockets three hundred philippes that I had won in the&#13;
evening, and a purse full of gold. I had therefore every reason to fear&#13;
the thieves of Muran--a very dangerous class of cutthroats, determined&#13;
murderers who enjoyed and abused a certain impunity, because they had&#13;
some privileges granted to them by the Government on account of the&#13;
services they rendered in the manufactories of looking-glasses and in the&#13;
glassworks which are numerous on the island. In order to prevent their&#13;
emigration, the Government had granted them the freedom of Venice. I&#13;
dreaded meeting a pair of them, who would have stripped me of everything,&#13;
at least. I had not, by chance, with me the knife which all honest men&#13;
must carry to defend their lives in my dear country. I was truly in an&#13;
unpleasant predicament.</p><p>I was thus painfully situated when I thought I could see a light through&#13;
the crevices of a small house. I knocked modestly against the shutter. A&#13;
voice called out:</p><p>"Who is knocking?"</p><p>And at the same moment the shutter was pushed open.</p><p>"What do you want?" asked a man, rather astonished at my costume.</p><p>I explained my predicament in a few words, and giving him one sequin I&#13;
begged his permission to shelter myself under his roof. Convinced by my&#13;
sequin rather than my words, he opened the door, I went in, and promising&#13;
him another sequin for his trouble I requested him to get me a gondola to&#13;
take me to Venice. He dressed himself hurriedly, thanking God for that&#13;
piece of good fortune, and went out assuring me that he would soon get me&#13;
a gondola. I remained alone in a miserable room in which all his family,&#13;
sleeping together in a large, ill-looking bed, were staring at me in&#13;
consequence of my extraordinary costume. In half an hour the good man&#13;
returned to announce that the gondoliers were at the wharf, but that they&#13;
wanted to be paid in advance. I raised no objection, gave a sequin to the&#13;
man for his trouble, and went to the wharf.</p><p>The sight of two strong gondoliers made me get into the gondola without&#13;
anxiety, and we left the shore without being much disturbed by the wind,&#13;
but when we had gone beyond the island, the storm attacked us with such&#13;
fury that I thought myself lost, for, although a good swimmer, I was not&#13;
sure I had strength enough to resist the violence of the waves and swim&#13;
to the shore. I ordered the men to go back to the island, but they&#13;
answered that I had not to deal with a couple of cowards, and that I had&#13;
no occasion to be afraid. I knew the disposition of our gondoliers, and I&#13;
made up my mind to say no more.</p><p>But the wind increased in violence, the foaming waves rushed into the&#13;
gondola, and my two rowers, in spite of their vigour and of their&#13;
courage, could no longer guide it. We were only within one hundred yards&#13;
of the mouth of the Jesuits' Canal, when a terrible gust of wind threw&#13;
one of the 'barcarols' into the sea; most fortunately he contrived to&#13;
hold by the gondola and to get in again, but he had lost his oar, and&#13;
while he was securing another the gondola had tacked, and had already&#13;
gone a considerable distance abreast. The position called for immediate&#13;
decision, and I had no wish to take my supper with Neptune. I threw a&#13;
handful of philippes into the gondola, and ordered the gondoliers to&#13;
throw overboard the 'felce' which covered the boat. The ringing of money,&#13;
as much as the imminent danger, ensured instant obedience, and then, the&#13;
wind having less hold upon us, my brave boatmen shewed AEolus that their&#13;
efforts could conquer him, for in less than five minutes we shot into the&#13;
Beggars' Canal, and I reached the Bragadin Palace. I went to bed at once,&#13;
covering myself heavily in order to regain my natural heat, but sleep,&#13;
which alone could have restored me to health, would not visit me.</p><p>Five or six hours afterwards, M. de Bragadin and his two inseparable&#13;
friends paid me a visit, and found me raving with fever. That did not&#13;
prevent my respectable protector from laughing at the sight of the&#13;
costume of Pierrot lying on the sofa. After congratulating me upon having&#13;
escaped with my life out of such a bad predicament, they left me alone.&#13;
In the evening I perspired so profusely that my bed had to be changed.&#13;
The next day my fever and delirium increased, and two days after, the&#13;
fever having abated, I found myself almost crippled and suffering&#13;
fearfully with lumbago. I felt that nothing could relieve me but a strict&#13;
regimen, and I bore the evil patiently.</p><p>Early on the Wednesday morning, Laura, the faithful messenger, called on&#13;
me; I was still in my bed: I told her that I could neither read nor&#13;
write, and I asked her to come again the next day. She placed on the&#13;
table, near my bed, the parcel she had for me, and she left me, knowing&#13;
what had occurred to me sufficiently to enable her to inform C---- C---- of&#13;
the state in which I was.</p><p>Feeling a little better towards the evening, I ordered my servant to lock&#13;
me in my room, and I opened C---- C----'s letter. The first thing I found&#13;
in the parcel, and which caused me great pleasure, was the key of the&#13;
casino which she returned to me. I had already repented having given it&#13;
up, and I was beginning to feel that I had been in the wrong. It acted&#13;
like a refreshing balm upon me. The second thing, not less dear after the&#13;
return of the precious key, was a letter from M---- M----, the seal of&#13;
which I was not long in breaking, and I read the following lines:</p><p>"The particulars which you have read, or which you are going to read, in&#13;
the letter of my friend, will cause you, I hope, to forget the fault&#13;
which I have committed so innocently, for I trusted, on the contrary,&#13;
that you would be very happy. I saw all and heard all, and you would not&#13;
have gone away without the key if I had not, most unfortunately, fallen&#13;
asleep an hour before your departure. Take back the key and come to the&#13;
casino to-morrow night, since Heaven has saved you from the storm. Your&#13;
love may, perhaps, give you the right to complain, but not to ill-treat a&#13;
woman who certainly has not given you any mark of contempt."</p><p>I afterwards read the letter of my dear C---- C----, and I will give a&#13;
copy of it here, because I think it will prove interesting:</p><p>"I entreat you, dear husband, not to send back this key, unless you have&#13;
become the most cruel of men, unless you find pleasure in tormenting two&#13;
women who, love you ardently, and who love you for yourself only. Knowing&#13;
your excellent heart, I trust you will go to the casino to-morrow evening&#13;
and make it up with M---- M----, who cannot go there to-night. You will&#13;
see that you are in the wrong, dearest, and that, far from despising you,&#13;
my dear friend loves you only. In the mean time, let me tell you what you&#13;
are not acquainted with, and what you must be anxious to know.</p><p>"Immediately after you had gone away in that fearful storm which caused&#13;
me such anguish, and just as I was preparing to return to the convent, I&#13;
was much surprised to see standing before me my dear M---- M----, who from&#13;
some hiding-place had heard all you had said. She had several times been&#13;
on the point of shewing herself, but she had always been prevented by the&#13;
fear of coming out of season, and thus stopping a reconciliation which&#13;
she thought was inevitable between two fond lovers. Unfortunately, sleep&#13;
had conquered her before your departure, and she only woke when the&#13;
alarum struck, too late to detain you, for you had rushed with the haste&#13;
of a man who is flying from some terrible danger. As soon as I saw her, I&#13;
gave her the key, although I did not know what it meant, and my friend,&#13;
heaving a deep sigh, told me that she would explain everything as soon as&#13;
we were safe in her room. We left the casino in a dreadful storm,&#13;
trembling for your safety, and not thinking of our own danger. As soon as&#13;
we were in the convent I resumed my usual costume, and M---- M---- went to&#13;
bed. I took a seat near her, and this is what she told me. 'When you left&#13;
your ring in my hands to go to your aunt, who had sent for you, I&#13;
examined it with so much attention that at last I suspected the small&#13;
blue spot to be connected with the secret spring; I took a pin, succeeded&#13;
in removing the top part, and I cannot express the joy I felt when I saw&#13;
that we both loved the same man, but no more can I give you an idea of my&#13;
sorrow when I thought that I was encroaching upon your rights. Delighted,&#13;
however, with my discovery, I immediately conceived a plan which would&#13;
procure you the pleasure of supping with him. I closed the ring again and&#13;
returned it to you, telling you at the same time that I had not been able&#13;
to discover anything. I was then truly the happiest of women. Knowing&#13;
your heart, knowing that you were aware of the love of your lover for me,&#13;
since I had innocently shewed you his portrait, and happy in the idea&#13;
that you were not jealous of me, I would have despised myself if I had&#13;
entertained any feelings different from your own, the more so that your&#13;
rights over him were by far stronger than mine. As for the mysterious&#13;
manner in which you always kept from me the name of your husband, I&#13;
easily guessed that you were only obeying his orders, and I admired your&#13;
noble sentiments and the goodness of your heart. In my opinion your lover&#13;
was afraid of losing us both, if we found out that neither the one nor&#13;
the other of us possessed his whole heart. I could not express my deep&#13;
sorrow when I thought that, after you had seen me in possession of his&#13;
portrait, you continued to act in the same manner towards me, although&#13;
you could not any longer hope to be the sole object of his love. Then I&#13;
had but one idea; to prove to both of you that M---- M---- is worthy of&#13;
your affection, of your friendship, of your esteem. I was indeed&#13;
thoroughly happy when I thought that the felicity of our trio would be&#13;
increased a hundredfold, for is it not an unbearable misery to keep a&#13;
secret from the being we adore? I made you take my place, and I thought&#13;
that proceeding a masterpiece. You allowed me to dress you as a nun, and&#13;
with a compliance which proves your confidence in me you went to my&#13;
casino without knowing where you were going. As soon as you had landed,&#13;
the gondola came back, and I went to a place well known to our friend&#13;
from which, without being seen, I could follow all your movements and&#13;
hear everything you said. I was the author of the play; it was natural&#13;
that I should witness it, the more so that I felt certain of seeing and&#13;
hearing nothing that would not be very agreeable to me. I reached the&#13;
casino a quarter of an hour after you, and I cannot tell you my&#13;
delightful surprise when I saw that dear Pierrot who had amused us so&#13;
much, and whom we had not recognized. But I was fated to feel no other&#13;
pleasure than that of his appearance. Fear, surprise, and anxiety&#13;
overwhelmed me at once when I saw the effect produced upon him by the&#13;
disappointment of his expectation, and I felt unhappy. Our lover took the&#13;
thing wrongly, and he went away in despair; he loves me still, but if he&#13;
thinks of me it is only to try to forget me. Alas! he will succeed but&#13;
too soon! By sending back that key he proves that he will never again go&#13;
to the casino. Fatal night! When my only wish was to minister to the&#13;
happiness of three persons, how is it that the very reverse of my wish&#13;
has occurred? It will kill me, dear friend, unless you contrive to make&#13;
him understand reason, for I feel that without him I cannot live. You&#13;
must have the means of writing to him, you know him, you know his name.&#13;
In the name of all goodness, send back this key to him with a letter to&#13;
persuade him to come to the casino to-morrow or on the following day, if&#13;
it is only to speak to me; and I hope to convince him of my love and my&#13;
innocence. Rest to-day, dearest, but to-morrow write to him, tell him the&#13;
whole truth; take pity on your poor friend, and forgive her for loving&#13;
your lover. I shall write a few lines myself; you will enclose them in&#13;
your letter. It is my fault if he no longer loves you; you ought to hate&#13;
me, and yet you are generous enough to love me. I adore you; I have seen&#13;
his tears, I have seen how well his soul can love; I know him now. I&#13;
could not have believed that men were able to love so much. I have passed&#13;
a terrible night. Do not think I am angry, dear friend, because you&#13;
confided to him that we love one another like two lovers; it does not&#13;
displease me, and with him it was no indiscretion, because his mind is as&#13;
free of prejudices as his heart is good.'</p><p>"Tears were choking her. I tried to console her, and I most willingly&#13;
promised her to write to you. She never closed her eyes throughout that&#13;
day, but I slept soundly for four hours.</p><p>"When we got up we found the convent full of bad news, which interested&#13;
us a great deal more than people imagined. It was reported that, an hour&#13;
before daybreak, a fishing-boat had been lost in the lagune, that two&#13;
gondolas had been capsized, and that the people in them had perished. You&#13;
may imagine our anguish! We dared not ask any questions, but it was just&#13;
the hour at which you had left me, and we entertained the darkest&#13;
forebodings. We returned to our room, where M---- M---- fainted away. More&#13;
courageous than she is, I told her that you were a good swimmer, but I&#13;
could not allay her anxiety, and she went to bed with a feverish chill.&#13;
Just at that moment, my aunt, who is of a very cheerful disposition, came&#13;
in, laughing, to tell us that during the storm the Pierrot who had made&#13;
us laugh so much had had a narrow escape of being drowned. 'Ah! the poor&#13;
Pierrot!' I exclaimed, 'tell us all about him, dear aunt. I am very glad&#13;
he was saved. Who is he? Do you know?' 'Oh! yes,' she answered,&#13;
'everything is known, for he was taken home by our gondoliers. One of&#13;
them has just told me that Pierrot, having spent the night at the Briati&#13;
ball, did not find any gondola to return to Venice, and that our&#13;
gondoliers took him for a sequin. One of the men fell into the sea, but&#13;
then the brave Pierrot, throwing handfuls of silver upon the 'Zenia'&#13;
pitched the 'felce' over board, and the wind having less hold they&#13;
reached Venice safely through the Beggars' Canal. This morning the lucky&#13;
gondoliers divided thirty philippes which they found in the gondola, and&#13;
they have been fortunate enough to pick up their 'felce'. Pierrot will&#13;
remember Muran and the ball at Briati. The man says that he is the son of&#13;
M. de Bragadin, the procurator's brother. He was taken to the palace of&#13;
that nobleman nearly dead from cold, for he was dressed in light calico,&#13;
and had no cloak.'</p><p>"When my aunt had left us, we looked at one another for several minutes&#13;
without uttering a word, but we felt that the good news had brought back&#13;
life to us. M---- M---- asked me whether you were really the son of M, de&#13;
Bragadin. 'It might be so,' I said to her, 'but his name does not shew my&#13;
lover to be the bastard of that nobleman, and still less his legitimate&#13;
child, for M. de Bragadin was never married.' 'I should be very sorry,'&#13;
said M---- M----, 'if he were his son.' I thought it right, then, to tell&#13;
her your true name, and of the application made to my father by M. de&#13;
Bragadin for my hand, the consequence of which was that I had been shut&#13;
up in the convent. Therefore, my own darling, your little wife has no&#13;
longer any secret to keep from M---- M----, and I hope you will not accuse&#13;
me of indiscretion, for it is better that our dear friend should know all&#13;
the truth than only half of it. We have been greatly amused, as you may&#13;
well suppose, by the certainty with which people say that you spent all&#13;
the night at the Briati ball. When people do not know everything, they&#13;
invent, and what might be is often accepted in the place of what is in&#13;
reality; sometimes it proves very fortunate. At all events the news did a&#13;
great deal of good to my friend, who is now much better. She has had an&#13;
excellent night, and the hope of seeing you at the casino has restored&#13;
all her beauty. She has read this letter three or four times, and has&#13;
smothered me with kisses. I long to give her the letter which you are&#13;
going to write to her. The messenger will wait for it. Perhaps I shall&#13;
see you again at the casino, and in a better temper, I hope. Adieu."</p><p>It did not require much argument to conquer me. When I had finished the&#13;
letter, I was at once the admirer of C---- C---- and the ardent lover of&#13;
M---- M----. But, alas! although the fever had left me, I was crippled.&#13;
Certain that Laura would come again early the next morning, I could not&#13;
refrain from writing to both of them a short letter, it is true, but long&#13;
enough to assure them that reason had again taken possession of my poor&#13;
brain. I wrote to C---- C---- that she had done right in telling her friend&#13;
my name, the more so that, as I did not attend their church any longer, I&#13;
had no reason to make a mystery of it. In everything else I freely&#13;
acknowledged myself in the wrong, and I promised her that I would atone&#13;
by giving M---M---- the strongest possible proofs of my repentance as soon&#13;
as I could go again to her casino.</p><p>This is the letter that I wrote to my adorable nun:</p><p>"I gave C---- C---- the key of your casino, to be returned to you, my own&#13;
charming friend, because I believed myself trifled with and despised, of&#13;
malice aforethought, by the woman I worship. In my error I thought myself&#13;
unworthy of presenting myself before your eyes, and, in spite of love,&#13;
horror made me shudder. Such was the effect produced upon me by an act&#13;
which would have appeared to me admirable, if my self-love had not&#13;
blinded me and upset my reason. But, dearest, to admire it it would have&#13;
been necessary for my mind to be as noble as yours, and I have proved how&#13;
far it is from being so. I am inferior to you in all things, except in&#13;
passionate love, and I will prove it to you at our next meeting, when I&#13;
will beg on my knees a generous pardon. Believe me, beloved creature, if&#13;
I wish ardently to recover my health, it is only to have it in my power&#13;
to prove by my love a thousand times increased, how ashamed I am of my&#13;
errors. My painful lumbago has alone prevented me from answering your&#13;
short note yesterday, to express to you my regrets, and the love which&#13;
has been enhanced in me by your generosity, alas! so badly rewarded. I&#13;
can assure you that in the lagunes, with death staring me in the face, I&#13;
regretted no one but you, nothing but having outraged you. But in the&#13;
fearful danger then threatening me I only saw a punishment from Heaven.&#13;
If I had not cruelly sent back to you the key of the casino, I should&#13;
most likely have returned there, and should have avoided the sorrow as&#13;
well as the physical pains which I am now suffering as an expiation. I&#13;
thank you a thousand times for having recalled me to myself, and you may&#13;
be certain that for the future I will keep better control over myself;&#13;
nothing shall make me doubt your love. But, darling, what do you say of&#13;
C---- C----? Is she not an incarnate angel who can be compared to no one&#13;
but you? You love us both equally. I am the only one weak and faulty, and&#13;
you make me ashamed of myself. Yet I feel that I would give my life for&#13;
her as well as for you. I feel curious about one thing, but I cannot&#13;
trust it to paper. You will satisfy that curiosity the first time I shall&#13;
be able to go to the casino before two days at the earliest. I will let&#13;
you know two days beforehand. In the mean time, I entreat you to think a&#13;
little of me, and to be certain of my devoted love. Adieu."</p><p>The next morning Laura found me sitting up in bed, and in a fair way to&#13;
recover my health. I requested her to tell C---- C---- that I felt much&#13;
better, and I gave her the letter I had written. She had brought me one&#13;
from my dear little wife, in which I found enclosed a note from&#13;
M---- M----. Those two letter were full of tender expressions of love,&#13;
anxiety for my health, and ardent prayers for my recovery.</p><p>Six days afterwards, feeling much stronger, I went to Muran, where the&#13;
keeper of the casino handed me a letter from M---- M----. She wrote to me&#13;
how impatient she was for my complete recovery, and how desirous she was&#13;
to see me in possession of her casino, with all the privileges which she&#13;
hoped I would retain for ever.</p><p>"Let me know, I entreat you," she added, "when we are likely to meet&#13;
again, either at Muran or in Venice, as you please. Be quite certain that&#13;
whenever we meet we shall be alone and without a witness."</p><p>I answered at once, telling her that we would meet the day after the&#13;
morrow at her casino, because I wanted to receive her loving absolution&#13;
in the very spot where I had outraged the most generous of women.</p><p>I was longing to see her again, for I was ashamed of my cruel injustice&#13;
towards her, and panting to atone for my wrongs. Knowing her disposition,&#13;
and reflecting calmly upon what had taken place, it was now evident to me&#13;
that what she had done, very far from being a mark of contempt, was the&#13;
refined effort of a love wholly devoted to me. Since she had found out&#13;
that I was the lover of her young friend, could she imagine that my heart&#13;
belonged only to herself? In the same way that her love for me did not&#13;
prevent her from being compliant with the ambassador, she admitted the&#13;
possibility of my being the same with C---- C----. She overlooked the&#13;
difference of constitution between the two sexes, and the privileges&#13;
enjoyed by women.</p><p>Now that age has whitened my hair and deadened the ardour of my senses,&#13;
my imagination does not take such a high flight, and I think differently.&#13;
I am conscious that my beautiful nun sinned against womanly reserve and&#13;
modesty, the two most beautiful appanages of the fair sex, but if that&#13;
unique, or at least rare, woman was guilty of an eccentricity which I&#13;
then thought a virtue, she was at all events exempt from that fearful&#13;
venom called jealousy--an unhappy passion which devours the miserable&#13;
being who is labouring under it, and destroys the love that gave it&#13;
birth.</p><p>Two days afterwards, on the 4th of February, 1754, I had the supreme&#13;
felicity of finding myself again alone with my beloved mistress. She wore&#13;
the dress of a nun. As we both felt guilty, the moment we saw each other,&#13;
by a spontaneous movement, we fell both on our knees, folded in each&#13;
other's arms. We had both ill-treated Love; she had treated him like a&#13;
child, I had adored him after the fashion of a Jansenist. But where could&#13;
we have found the proper language for the excuses we had to address to&#13;
each other for the mutual forgiveness we had to entreat and to grant?&#13;
Kisses--that mute, yet expressive language, that delicate, voluptuous&#13;
contact which sends sentiment coursing rapidly through the veins, which&#13;
expresses at the same time the feeling of the heart and the impressions&#13;
of the mind--that language was the only one we had recourse to, and&#13;
without having uttered one syllable, dear reader, oh, how well we agreed!</p><p>Both overwhelmed with emotion, longing to give one another some proofs of&#13;
the sincerity of our reconciliation and of the ardent fire which was&#13;
consuming us, we rose without unclasping our arms, and falling (a most&#13;
amorous group!) on the nearest sofa, we remained there until the heaving&#13;
of a deep sigh which we would not have stopped, even if we had known that&#13;
it was to be the last!</p><p>Thus was completed our happy reconciliation, and the calm infused into&#13;
the soul by contentment, burst into a hearty laugh when we noticed that I&#13;
had kept on my cloak and my mask. After we had enjoyed our mirth, I&#13;
unmasked myself, and I asked her whether it was quite true that no one&#13;
had witnessed our reconciliation.</p><p>She took up one of the candlesticks, and seizing my hand:</p><p>"Come," she said.</p><p>She led me to the other end of the room, before a large cupboard which I&#13;
had already suspected of containing the secret. She opened it, and when&#13;
she had moved a sliding plank I saw a door through which we entered a&#13;
pretty closet furnished with everything necessary to a person wishing to&#13;
pass a few hours there. Near the sofa was a sliding panel.&#13;
M---- M---- removed it, and through twenty holes placed at a distance from&#13;
each other I saw every part of the room in which nature and love had&#13;
performed for our curious friend a play in six acts, during which I did&#13;
not think he had occasion to be dissatisfied with the actors.</p><p>"Now," said M---- M----, "I am going to satisfy the curiosity which you&#13;
were prudent enough not to trust to paper."</p><p>"But you cannot guess...."</p><p>"Silence, dearest! Love would not be of divine origin did he not possess&#13;
the faculty of divination. He knows all, and here is the proof. Do you&#13;
not wish to know whether my friend was with me during the fatal night&#13;
which has cost me so many tears?"</p><p>"You have guessed rightly."</p><p>"Well, then, he was with me, and you must not be angry, for you then&#13;
completed your conquest of him. He admired your character, your love,&#13;
your sentiments, your honesty. He could not help expressing his&#13;
astonishment at the rectitude of my instinct, or his approval of the&#13;
passion I felt for you. It was he who consoled me in the morning assuring&#13;
me that you would certainly come back to me as soon as you knew my real&#13;
feelings, the loyalty of my intentions and my good faith."</p><p>"But you must often have fallen asleep, for unless excited by some&#13;
powerful interest, it is impossible to pass eight hours in darkness and&#13;
in silence."</p><p>"We were moved by the deepest interest: besides, we were in darkness only&#13;
when we kept these holes open. The plank was on during our supper, and we&#13;
were listening in religious silence to your slightest whisper. The&#13;
interest which kept my friend awake was perhaps greater than mine. He&#13;
told me that he never had had before a better opportunity of studying the&#13;
human heart, and that you must have passed the most painful night. He&#13;
truly pitied you. We were delighted with C---- C----, for it is indeed&#13;
wonderful that a young girl of fifteen should reason as she did to&#13;
justify my conduct, without any other weapons but those given her by&#13;
nature and truth; she must have the soul of an angel. If you ever marry&#13;
her, you will have the most heavenly wife. I shall of course feel&#13;
miserable if I lose her, but your happiness will make amends for all. Do&#13;
you know, dearest, that I cannot understand how you could fall in love&#13;
with me after having known her, any more than I can conceive how she does&#13;
not hate me ever since she has discovered that I have robbed her of your&#13;
heart. My dear C---- C---- has truly something divine in her disposition.&#13;
Do you know why she confided to you her barren loves with me? Because, as&#13;
she told me herself, she wished to ease her conscience, thinking that she&#13;
was in some measure unfaithful to you."</p><p>"Does she think herself bound to be entirely faithful to me, with the&#13;
knowledge she has now of my own unfaithfulness?"</p><p>"She is particularly delicate and conscientious, and though she believes&#13;
herself truly your wife, she does not think that she has any right to&#13;
control your actions, but she believes herself bound to give you an&#13;
account of all she does."</p><p>"Noble girl!"</p><p>The prudent wife of the door-keeper having brought the supper, we sat&#13;
down to the well-supplied table. M---- M---- remarked that I had become&#13;
much thinner.</p><p>"The pains of the body do not fatten a man," I said, "and the sufferings&#13;
of the mind emaciate him. But we have suffered sufficiently, and we must&#13;
be wise enough never to recall anything which can be painful to us."</p><p>"You are quite right, my love; the instants that man is compelled to give&#13;
up to misfortune or to suffering are as many moments stolen from his&#13;
life, but he doubles his existence when he has the talent of multiplying&#13;
his pleasures, no matter of what nature they may be."</p><p>We amused ourselves in talking over past dangers, Pierrot's disguise, and&#13;
the ball at Briati, where she had been told that another Pierrot had made&#13;
his appearance.</p><p>M---- M---- wondered at the extraordinary effect of a disguise, for, said&#13;
she to me:</p><p>"The Pierrot in the parlour of the convent seemed to me taller and&#13;
thinner than you. If chance had not made you take the convent gondola, if&#13;
you had not had the strange idea of assuming the disguise of Pierrot, I&#13;
should not have known who you were, for my friends in the convent would&#13;
not have been interested in you. I was delighted when I heard that you&#13;
were not a patrician, as I feared, because, had you been one, I might in&#13;
time have run some great danger."</p><p>I knew very well what she had to fear, but pretending complete ignorance:</p><p>"I cannot conceive," I said, "what danger you might run on account of my&#13;
being a patrician."</p><p>"My darling, I cannot speak to you openly, unless you give me your word&#13;
to do what I am going to ask you."</p><p>"How could I hesitate, my love, in doing anything to please you, provided&#13;
my honour is not implicated? Have we not now everything in common? Speak,&#13;
idol of my heart, tell me your reasons, and rely upon my love; it is the&#13;
guarantee of my ready compliance in everything that can give you&#13;
pleasure:"</p><p>"Very well. I want you to give a supper in your casino to me and my&#13;
friend, who is dying to make your acquaintance."</p><p>"And I foresee that after supper you will leave me to go with him."</p><p>"You must feel that propriety compels me to do so."</p><p>"Your friend already knows, I suppose, who I am?"</p><p>"I thought it was right to tell him, because if I had not told him he&#13;
could not have entertained the hope of supping with you, and especially&#13;
at your house."</p><p>"I understand. I guess your friend is one of the foreign ambassadors."</p><p>"Precisely."</p><p>"But may I hope that he will so far honour me as to throw up his&#13;
incognito?"</p><p>"That is understood. I shall introduce him to you according to accepted&#13;
forms, telling his name and his political position."</p><p>"Then it is all for the best, darling. How could you suppose that I would&#13;
have any difficulty in procuring you that pleasure, when on the contrary,&#13;
nothing could please me more myself? Name the day, and be quite certain&#13;
that I shall anxiously look for it."</p><p>"I should have been sure of your compliance, if you had not given me&#13;
cause to doubt it."</p><p>"It is a home-thrust, but I deserve it."</p><p>"And I hope it will not make you angry. Now I am happy. Our friend is M.&#13;
de Bernis, the French ambassador. He will come masked, and as soon as he&#13;
shews his features I shall present him to you. Recollect that you must&#13;
treat him as my lover, but you must not appear to know that he is aware&#13;
of our intimacy."</p><p>"I understand that very well, and you shall have every reason to be&#13;
pleased with my urbanity. The idea of that supper is delightful to me,&#13;
and I hope that the reality will be as agreeable. You were quite right,&#13;
my love, to dread my being a patrician, for in that case the&#13;
State-Inquisitors, who very often think of nothing but of making a show&#13;
of their zeal, would not have failed to meddle with us, and the mere idea&#13;
of the possible consequences makes me shudder. I under The Leads--you&#13;
dishonoured--the abbess--the convent! Good God! Yes, if you had told me&#13;
what you thought, I would have given you my name, and I could have done&#13;
so all the more easily that my reserve was only caused by the fear of&#13;
being known, and of C---- C---- being taken to another convent by her&#13;
father. But can you appoint a day for the supper? I long to have it all&#13;
arranged."</p><p>"To-day is the fourth; well, then, in four days."</p><p>"That will be the eighth?"</p><p>"Exactly so. We will go to your casino after the second ballet. Give me&#13;
all necessary particulars to enable us to find the house without&#13;
enquiring from anyone."</p><p>I sat down and I wrote down the most exact particulars to find the casino&#13;
either by land or by water. Delighted with the prospect of such a party&#13;
of pleasure, I asked my mistress to go to bed, but I remarked to her&#13;
that, being convalescent and having made a hearty supper, I should be&#13;
very likely to pay my first homages to Morpheus. Yielding to the&#13;
circumstances, she set the alarum for ten o'clock, and we went to bed in&#13;
the alcove. As soon as we woke up, Love claimed our attention and he had&#13;
no cause of complaint, but towards midnight we fell asleep, our lips&#13;
fastened together, and we found ourselves in that position in the morning&#13;
when we opened our eyes. Although there was no time to lose, we could not&#13;
make up our minds to part without making one more offering to Venus.</p><p>I remained in the casino after the departure of my divinity, and slept&#13;
until noon. As soon as I had dressed myself, I returned to Venice, and my&#13;
first care was to give notice to my cook, so that the supper of the 8th&#13;
of February should be worthy of the guests and worthy of me.</p></section></body></FictionBook>
