CHAPTER XXVII

Various Adventures--My Companions--I Prepare to Escape--Change of Cell

To make the reader understand how I managed to escape from a place like

the Leads, I must explain the nature of the locality.

The Leads, used for the confinement of state prisoners, are in fact the

lofts of the ducal palace, and take their name from the large plates of

lead with which the roof is covered. One can only reach them through the

gates of the palace, the prison buildings, or by the bridge of which I

have spoken called the Bridge of Sighs. It is impossible to reach the

cells without passing through the hall where the State Inquisitors hold

their meetings, and their secretary has the sole charge of the key, which

he only gives to the gaoler for a short time in the early morning whilst

he is attending to the prisoners. This is done at day-break, because

otherwise the guards as they came and went would be in the way of those

who have to do with the Council of Ten, as the Council meets every day in

a hall called The Bussola, which the guards have to cross every time they

go to the Leads.

The prisons are under the roof on two sides of the palace; three to the

west (mine being among the number) and four to the east. On the west the

roof looks into the court of the palace, and on the east straight on to

the canal called Rio di Palazzo. On this side the cells are well lighted,

and one can stand up straight, which is not the case in the prison where

I was, which was distinguished by the name of 'Trave', on account of the

enormous beam which deprived me of light. The floor of my cell was

directly over the ceiling of the Inquisitors' hall, where they commonly

met only at night after the sitting of the Council of Ten of which the

whole three are members.

As I knew my ground and the habits of the Inquisitors perfectly well, the

only way to escape--the only way at least which I deemed likely to

succeed--was to make a hole in the floor of my cell; but to do this tools

must be obtained--a difficult task in a place where all communication

with the outside world was forbidden, where neither letters nor visits

were allowed. To bribe a guard a good deal of money would be necessary,

and I had none. And supposing that the gaoler and his two guards allowed

themselves to be strangled--for my hands were my only weapons--there was

always a third guard on duty at the door of the passage, which he locked

and would not open till his fellow who wished to pass through gave him

the password. In spite of all these difficulties my only thought was how

to escape, and as Boethius gave me no hints on this point I read him no

more, and as I was certain that the difficulty was only to be solved by

stress of thinking I centered all my thoughts on this one object.

It has always been my opinion that when a man sets himself determinedly

to do something, and thinks of nought but his design, he must succeed

despite all difficulties in his path: such an one may make himself Pope

or Grand Vizier, he may overturn an ancient line of kings--provided that

he knows how to seize on his opportunity, and be a man of wit and

pertinacity. To succeed one must count on being fortunate and despise all

ill success, but it is a most difficult operation.

Towards the middle of November, Lawrence told me that Messer-Grande had a

prisoner in his hands whom the new secretary, Businello, had ordered to

be placed in the worst cell, and who consequently was going to share

mine. He told me that on the secretary's reminding him that I looked upon

it as a favour to be left alone, he answered that I had grown wiser in

the four months of my imprisonment. I was not sorry to hear the news or

that there was a new secretary. This M. Pierre Businello was a worthy man

whom I knew at Paris. He afterwards went to London as ambassador of the

Republic.

In the afternoon I heard the noise of the bolts, and presently Lawrence

and two guards entered leading in a young man who was weeping bitterly;

and after taking off his handcuffs they shut him up with me, and went out

without saying a word. I was lying on my bed, and he could not see me. I

was amused at his astonishment. Being, fortunately for himself, seven or

eight inches shorter than I, he was able to stand upright, and he began

to inspect my arm-chair, which he doubtless thought was meant for his own

use. Glancing at the ledge above the grating he saw Boethius, took it up,

opened it, and put it down with a kind of passion, probably because being

in Latin it was of no use to him. Continuing his inspection of the cell

he went to the left, and groping about was much surprised to find

clothes. He approached the recess, and stretching out his hand he touched

me, and immediately begged my pardon in a respectful manner. I asked him

to sit down and we were friends.

"Who are you?" said I.

"I am Maggiorin, of Vicenza. My father, who was a coachman, kept me at

school till I was eleven, by which time I had learnt to read and write; I

was afterwards apprenticed to a barber, where I learnt my business

thoroughly. After that I became valet to the Count of X---. I had been in

the service of the nobleman for two years when his daughter came from the

convent. It was my duty to do her hair, and by degrees I fell in love

with her, and inspired her with a reciprocal passion. After having sworn

a thousand times to exist only for one another, we gave ourselves up to

the task of shewing each other marks of our affection, the result of

which was that the state of the young countess discovered all. An old and

devoted servant was the first to find out our connection and the

condition of my mistress, and she told her that she felt in duty bound to

tell her father, but my sweetheart succeeded in making her promise to be

silent, saying that in the course of the week she herself would tell him

through her confessor. She informed me of all this, and instead of going

to confession we prepared for flight. She had laid hands on a good sum of

money and some diamonds which had belonged to her mother, and we were to

set out for Milan to-night. But to-day the count called me after dinner,

and giving me a letter, he told me to start at once and to deliver it

with my own hand to the person to whom it was addressed at Venice. He

spoke to me so kindly and quietly that I had not the slightest suspicion

of the fate in store for me. I went to get my cloak, said good-bye to my

little wife, telling her that I should soon return. Seeing deeper below

the surface than I, and perchance having a presentiment of my misfortune,

she was sick at heart. I came here in hot haste, and took care to deliver

the fatal letter. They made me wait for an answer, and in the mean time I

went to an inn; but as I came out I was arrested and put in the

guard-room, where I was kept till they brought me here. I suppose, sir, I

might consider the young countess as my wife?"

"You make a mistake."

"But nature----"

"Nature, when a man listens to her and nothing else, takes him from one

folly to another, till she puts him under the Leads."

"I am under the Leads, then, am I?"

"As I am."

The poor young man shed some bitter tears. He was a well-made lad, open,

honest, and amorous beyond words. I secretly pardoned the countess, and

condemned the count for exposing his daughter to such temptation. A

shepherd who shuts up the wolf in the fold should not complain if his

flock be devoured. In all his tears and lamentations he thought not of

himself but always of his sweetheart. He thought that the gaoler would

return and bring him some food and a bed; but I undeceived him, and

offered him a share of what I had. His heart, however, was too full for

him to eat. In the evening I gave him my mattress, on which he passed the

night, for though he looked neat and clean enough I did not care to have

him to sleep with me, dreading the results of a lover's dreams. He

neither understood how wrongly he had acted, nor how the count was

constrained to punish him publicly as a cloak to the honour of his

daughter and his house. The next day he was given a mattress and a dinner

to the value of fifteen sous, which the Tribunal had assigned to him,

either as a favour or a charity, for the word justice would not be

appropriate in speaking of this terrible body. I told the gaoler that my

dinner would suffice for the two of us, and that he could employ the

young man's allowance in saying masses in his usual manner. He agreed

willingly, and having told him that he was lucky to be in my company, he

said that we could walk in the garret for half an hour. I found this walk

an excellent thing for my health and my plan of escape, which, however, I

could not carry out for eleven months afterwards. At the end of this

resort of rats, I saw a number of old pieces of furniture thrown on the

ground to the right and left of two great chests, and in front of a large

pile of papers sewn up into separate volumes. I helped myself to a dozen

of them for the sake of the reading, and I found them to be accounts of

trials, and very diverting; for I was allowed to read these papers, which

had once contained such secrets. I found some curious replies to the

judges' questions respecting the seduction of maidens, gallantries

carried a little too far by persons employed in girls' schools, facts

relating to confessors who had abused their penitents, schoolmasters

convicted of pederasty with their pupils, and guardians who had seduced

their wards. Some of the papers dating two or three centuries back, in

which the style and the manners illustrated gave me considerable

entertainment. Among the pieces of furniture on the floor I saw a

warming-pan, a kettle, a fire-shovel, a pair of tongs, some old

candle-sticks, some earthenware pots, and even a syringe. From this I

concluded that some prisoner of distinction had been allowed to make use

of these articles. But what interested me most was a straight iron bar as

thick as my thumb, and about a foot and a half long. However, I left

everything as it was, as my plans had not been sufficiently ripened by

time for me to appropriate any object in particular.

One day towards the end of the month my companion was taken away, and

Lawrence told me that he had been condemned to the prisons known as The

Fours, which are within the same walls as the ordinary prisons, but

belong to the State Inquisitors. Those confined in them have the

privilege of being able to call the gaoler when they like. The prisons

are gloomy, but there is an oil lamp in the midst which gives the

necessary light, and there is no fear of fire as everything is made of

marble. I heard, a long time after, that the unfortunate Maggiorin was

there for five years, and was afterwards sent to Cerigo for ten. I do not

know whether he ever came from there. He had kept me good company, and

this I discovered as soon as he was gone, for in a few days I became as

melancholy as before. Fortunately, I was still allowed my walk in the

garret, and I began to examine its contents with more minuteness. One of

the chests was full of fine paper, pieces of cardboard, uncut pens, and

clews of pack thread; the other was fastened down. A piece of polished

black marble, an inch thick, six inches long, and three broad, attracted

my attention, and I possessed myself of it without knowing what I was

going to do with it, and I secreted it in my cell, covering it up with my

shirts.

A week after Maggiorin had gone, Lawrence told me that in all probability

I should soon get another companion. This fellow Lawrence, who at bottom

was a mere gabbling fool, began to get uneasy at my never asking him any

questions. This fondness for gossip was not altogether appropriate to his

office, but where is one to find beings absolutely vile? There are such

persons, but happily they are few and far between, and are not to be

sought for in the lower orders. Thus my gaoler found himself unable to

hold his tongue, and thought that the reason I asked no questions must be

that I thought him incapable of answering them; and feeling hurt at this,

and wishing to prove to me that I made a mistake, he began to gossip

without being solicited.

"I believe you will often have visitors," said he, "as the other six

cells have each two prisoners, who are not likely to be sent to the

Fours." I made him no reply, but he went on, in a few seconds, "They send

to the Fours all sorts of people after they have been sentenced, though

they know nothing of that. The prisoners whom I have charge of under the

Leads are like yourself, persons of note, and are only guilty of deeds of

which the inquisitive must know nothing. If you knew, sir, what sort of

people shared your fate, you would be astonished, It's true that you are

called a man of parts; but you will pardon me.... You know that all men

of parts are treated well here. You take me, I see. Fifty sous a day,

that's something. They give three livres to a citizen, four to a

gentleman, and eight to a foreign count. I ought to know, I think, as

everything goes through my hands."

He then commenced to sing his own praises, which consisted of negative

clauses.

"I'm no thief, nor traitor, nor greedy, nor malicious, nor brutal, as all

my predecessors were, and when I have drunk a pint over and above I am

all the better for it. If my father had sent me to school I should have

learnt to read and write, and I might be Messer-Grande to-day, but that's

not my fault. M. Andre Diedo has a high opinion of me. My wife, who cooks

for you every day, and is only twenty-four, goes to see him when she

will, and he will have her come in without ceremony, even if he be in

bed, and that's more than he'll do for a senator. I promise you you will

be always having the new-comers in your cell, but never for any length of

time, for as soon as the secretary has got what he wants to know from

them, he sends them to their place--to the Fours, to some fort, or to the

Levant; and if they be foreigners they are sent across the frontier, for

our Government does not hold itself master of the subjects of other

princes, if they be not in its service. The clemency of the Court is

beyond compare; there's not another in the world that treats its

prisoners so well. They say it's cruel to disallow writing and visitors;

but that's foolish, for what are writing and company but waste of time?

You will tell me that you have nothing to do, but we can't say as much."

Such was, almost word for word, the first harangue with which the fellow

honoured me, and I must say I found it amusing. I saw that if the man had

been less of a fool he would most certainly have been more of a

scoundrel.

The next day brought me a new messmate, who was treated as Maggiorin had

been, and I thus found it necessary to buy another ivory spoon, for as

the newcomers were given nothing on the first day of their imprisonment I

had to do all the honours of the cell.

My new mate made me a low bow, for my beard, now four inches long, was

still more imposing than my figure. Lawrence often lent me scissors to

cut my nails, but he was forbidden, under pain of very heavy punishment,

to let me touch my beard. I knew not the reason of this order, but I

ended by becoming used to my beard as one gets used to everything.

The new-comer was a man of about fifty, approaching my size, a little

bent, thin, with a large mouth, and very bad teeth. He had small grey

eyes hidden under thick eyebrows of a red colour, which made him look

like an owl; and this picture was set off by a small black wig, which

exhaled a disagreeable odour of oil, and by a dress of coarse grey cloth.

He accepted my offer of dinner, but was reserved, and said not a word the

whole day, and I was also silent, thinking he would soon recover the use

of his tongue, as he did the next day.

Early in the morning he was given a bed and a bag full of linen. The

gaoler asked him, as he had asked me, what he would have for dinner, and

for money to pay for it.

"I have no money."

"What! a moneyed man like you have no money?"

"I haven't a sou."

"Very good; in that case I will get you some army biscuit and water,

according to instructions."

He went out, and returned directly afterwards with a pound and a half of

biscuit, and a pitcher, which he set before the prisoner, and then went

away.

Left alone with this phantom I heard a sigh, and my pity made me break

the silence.

"Don't sigh, sir, you shall share my dinner. But I think you have made a

great mistake in coming here without money."

"I have some, but it does not do to let those harpies know of it:"

"And so you condemn yourself to bread and water. Truly a wise proceeding!

Do you know the reason of your imprisonment?"

"Yes, sir, and I will endeavour in a few words to inform you of it."

"My name is Squaldo Nobili. My father was a countryman who had me taught

reading and writing, and at his death left me his cottage and the small

patch of ground belonging to it. I lived in Friuli, about a day's journey

from the Marshes of Udine. As a torrent called Corno often damaged my

little property, I determined to sell it and to set up in Venice, which I

did ten years ago. I brought with me eight thousand livres in fair

sequins, and knowing that in this happy commonwealth all men enjoyed the

blessings of liberty, I believed that by utilizing my capital I might

make a little income, and I began to lend money, on security. Relying on

my thrift, my judgment, and my knowledge of the world, I chose this

business in preference to all others. I rented a small house in the

neighbourhood of the Royal Canal, and having furnished it I lived there

in comfort by myself; and in the course of two years I found I had made a

profit of ten thousand livres, though I had expended two thousand on

household expenses as I wished to live in comfort. In this fashion I saw

myself in a fair way of making a respectable fortune in time; but one,

day, having lent a Jew two sequins upon some books, I found one amongst

them called 'La Sagesse,' by Charron. It was then I found out how good a

thing it is to be able to read, for this book, which you, sir, may not

have read, contains all that a man need know--purging him of all the

prejudices of his childhood. With Charron good-bye to hell and all the

empty terrors of a future life; one's eyes are opened, one knows the way

to bliss, one becomes wise indeed. Do you, sir, get this book, and pay no

heed to those foolish persons who would tell you this treasure is not to

be approached."

This curious discourse made me know my man. As to Charron, I had read the

book though I did not know it had been translated into Italian. The

author who was a great admirer of Montaigne thought to surpass his model,

but toiled in vain. He is not much read despite the prohibition to read

his works, which should have given them some popularity. He had the

impudence to give his book the title of one of Solomon's treatises--a

circumstance which does not say much for his modesty. My companion went

on as follows:

"Set free by Charron from any scruples I still might have, and from those

false ideas so hard to rid one's self of, I pushed my business in such

sort, that at the end of six years I could lay my hand on ten thousand

sequins. There is no need for you to be astonished at that, as in this

wealthy city gambling, debauchery, and idleness set all the world awry

and in continual need of money; so do the wise gather what the fool

drops.

"Three years ago a certain Count Seriman came and asked me to take from

him five hundred sequins, to put them in my business, and to give him

half profits. All he asked for was an obligation in which I promised to

return him the whole sum on demand. At the end of a year I sent him

seventy-five sequins, which made fifteen per cent. on his money; he gave

me a receipt for it, but was ill pleased. He was wrong, for I was in no

need of money, and had not used his for business purposes. At the end of

the second year, out of pure generosity, I sent him the same amount; but

we came to a quarrel and he demanded the return of the five hundred

sequins. 'Certainly,' I said, 'but I must deduct the hundred and fifty

you have already received.' Enraged at this he served me with a writ for

the payment of the whole sum. A clever lawyer undertook my defence and

was able to gain me two years. Three months ago I was spoken to as to an

agreement, and I refused to hear of it, but fearing violence I went to

the Abbe Justiniani, the Spanish ambassador's secretary, and for a small

sum he let me a house in the precincts of the Embassy, where one is safe

from surprises. I was quite willing to let Count Seriman have his money,

but I claimed a reduction of a hundred sequins on account of the costs of

the lawsuit. A week ago the lawyers on both sides came to me. I shewed

them a purse of two hundred and fifty sequins, and told them they might

take it, but not a penny more. They went away without saying a word, both

wearing an ill-pleased air, of which I took no notice. Three days ago the

Abbe Justiniani told me that the ambassador had thought fit to give

permission to the State Inquisitors to send their men at once to my house

to make search therein. I thought the thing impossible under the shelter

of a foreign ambassador, and instead of taking the usual precautions, I

waited the approach of the men-at-arms, only putting my money in a place

of safety. At daybreak Messer-Grande came to the house, and asked me for

three hundred and fifty sequins, and on my telling him that I hadn't a

farthing he seized me, and here I am."

I shuddered, less at having such an infamous companion than at his

evidently considering me as his equal, for if he had thought of me in any

other light he would certainly not have told me this long tale, doubtless

in the belief that I should take his part. In all the folly about Charron

with which he tormented me in the three days we were together, I found by

bitter experience the truth of the Italian proverb: 'Guardati da colui

che non ha letto che un libro solo'. By reading the work of the misguided

priest he had become an Atheist, and of this he made his boast all the

day long. In the afternoon Lawrence came to tell him to come and speak

with the secretary. He dressed himself hastily, and instead of his own

shoes he took mine without my seeing him. He came back in half an hour in

tears, and took out of his shoes two purses containing three hundred and

fifty sequins, and, the gaoler going before, he went to take them to the

secretary. A few moments afterwards he returned, and taking his cloak

went away. Lawrence told me that he had been set at liberty. I thought,

and with good reason, that, to make him acknowledge his debt and pay it,

the secretary had threatened him with the torture; and if it were only

used in similar cases, I, who detest the principle of torture, would be

the first to proclaim its utility.

On New Year's Day, 1733, I received my presents. Lawrence brought me a

dressing-gown lined with foxskin, a coverlet of wadded silk, and a

bear-skin bag for me to put my legs in, which I welcomed gladly, for the

coldness was unbearable as the heat in August. Lawrence told me that I

might spend to the amount of six sequins a month, that I might have what

books I liked, and take in the newspaper, and that this present came from

M. de Bragadin. I asked him for a pencil, and I wrote upon a scrap of

paper: "I am grateful for the kindness of the Tribunal and the goodness

of M. de Bragadin."

The man who would know what were my feelings at all this must have been

in a similar situation to my own. In the first gush of feeling I forgave

my oppressors, and was on the point of giving up the idea of escape; so

easily shall you move a man that you have brought low and overwhelmed

with misfortune. Lawrence told me that M. de Bragadin had come before the

three Inquisitors, and that on his knees, and with tears in his eyes, he

had entreated them to let him give me this mark of his affection if I

were still in the land of the living; the Inquisitors were moved, and

were not able to refuse his request.

I wrote down without delay the names of the books I wanted.

One fine morning, as I was walking in the garret, my eyes fell on the

iron bar I have mentioned, and I saw that it might very easily be made

into a defensive or offensive weapon. I took possession of it, and having

hidden it under my dressing-gown I conveyed it into my cell. As soon as I

was alone, I took the piece of black marble, and I found that I had to my

hand an excellent whetstone; for by rubbing the bar with the stone I

obtained a very good edge.

My interest roused in this work in which I was but an apprentice, and in

the fashion in which I seemed likely to become possessed of an instrument

totally prohibited under the Leads, impelled, perhaps, also by my vanity

to make a weapon without any of the necessary tools, and incited by my

very difficulties (for I worked away till dark without anything to hold

my whetstone except my left hand, and without a drop of oil to soften the

iron), I made up my mind to persevere in my difficult task. My saliva

served me in the stead of oil, and I toiled eight days to produce eight

edges terminating in a sharp point, the edges being an inch and a half in

length. My bar thus sharpened formed an eight-sided dagger, and would

have done justice to a first-rate cutler. No one can imagine the toil and

trouble I had to bear, nor the patience required to finish this difficult

task without any other tools than a loose piece of stone. I put myself,

in fact, to a kind of torture unknown to the tyrants of all ages. My

right arm had become so stiff that I could hardly move it; the palm of my

hand was covered with a large scar, the result of the numerous blisters

caused by the hardness and the length of the work. No one would guess the

sufferings I underwent to bring my work to completion.

Proud of what I had done, without thinking what use I could make of my

weapon, my first care was to hide it in such a manner as would defy a

minute search. After thinking over a thousand plans, to all of which

there was some objection, I cast my eyes on my arm-chair, and there I

contrived to hide it so as to be secure from all suspicion. Thus did

Providence aid me to contrive a wonderful and almost inconceivable plan

of escape. I confess to a feeling of vanity, not because I eventually

succeeded--for I owed something to good luck--but because I was brave

enough to undertake such a scheme in spite of the difficulties which

might have ruined my plans and prevented my ever attaining liberty.

After thinking for three or four days as to what I should do with the bar

I had made into an edged tool, as thick as a walking-stick and twenty

inches long, I determined that the best plan would be to make a hole in

the floor under my bed.

I was sure that the room below my cell was no other than the one in which

I had seen M. Cavalli. I knew that this room was opened every morning,

and I felt persuaded that, after I had made my hole, I could easily let

myself down with my sheets, which I would make into a rope and fasten to

my bed. Once there, I would hide under the table of the court, and in the

morning, when the door was opened, I could escape and get to a place of

safety before anyone could follow me. I thought it possible that a sentry

might be placed in the hall, but my short pike ought to soon rid me of

him. The floor might be of double or even of triple thickness, and this

thought puzzled me; for in that case how was I to prevent the guard

sweeping out the room throughout the two months my work might last. If I

forbade them to do so, I might rouse suspicion; all the more as, to free

myself of the fleas, I had requested them to sweep out the cell every

day, and in sweeping they would soon discover what I was about. I must

find some way out of this difficulty.

I began by forbidding them to sweep, without giving any reason. A week

after, Lawrence asked me why I did so. I told him because of the dust

which might make me cough violently and give me some fatal injury.

"I will make them water the floor," said he.

"That would be worse, Lawrence, for the damp might cause a plethora."

In this manner I obtained a week's respite, but at the end of that time

the lout gave orders that my cell should be swept. He had the bed carried

out into the garret, and on pretence of having the sweeping done with

greater care, he lighted a candle. This let me know that the rascal was

suspicious of something; but I was crafty enough to take no notice of

him, and so far from giving up my plea, I only thought how I could put it

on good train. Next morning I pricked my finger and covered my

handkerchief with the blood, and then awaited Lawrence in bed. As soon as

he came I told him that I had coughed so violently as to break a

blood-vessel, which had made me bring up all the blood he saw. "Get me a

doctor." The doctor came, ordered me to be bled, and wrote me a

prescription. I told him it was Lawrence's fault, as he had persisted in

having the room swept. The doctor blamed him for doing so, and just as if

I had asked him he told us of a young man who had died from the same

cause, and said that there was nothing more dangerous than breathing in

dust. Lawrence called all the gods to witness that he had only had the

room swept for my sake, and promised it should not happen again. I

laughed to myself, for the doctor could not have played his part better

if I had given him the word. The guards who were there were delighted,

and said they would take care only to sweep the cells of those prisoners

who had angered them.

When the doctor was gone, Lawrence begged my pardon, and assured me that

all the other prisoners were in good health although their cells were

swept out regularly.

"But what the doctor says is worth considering," said he, "and I shall

tell them all about it, for I look upon them as my children."

The blood-letting did me good, as it made me sleep, and relieved me of

the spasms with which I was sometimes troubled. I had regained my

appetite and was getting back my strength every day, but the time to set

about my work was not yet come; it was still too cold, and I could not

hold the bar for any length of time without my hand becoming stiff. My

scheme required much thought. I had to exercise boldness and foresight to

rid myself of troubles which chance might bring to pass or which I could

foresee. The situation of a man who had to act as I had, is an unhappy

one, but in risking all for all half its bitterness vanishes.

The long nights of winter distressed me, for I had to pass nineteen

mortal hours in darkness; and on the cloudy days, which are common enough

at Venice, the light I had was not sufficient for me to be able to read.

Without any distractions I fell back on the idea of my escape, and a man

who always thinks on one subject is in danger of becoming a monomaniac. A

wretched kitchen-lamp would have made me happy, but how am I to get such

a thing? O blessed prerogative of thought! how happy was I when I thought

I had found a way to possess myself of such a treasure! To make such a

lamp I required a vase, wicks, oil, a flint and steel, tinder, and

matches. A porringer would do for the vase, and I had one which was used

for cooking eggs in butter. Pretending that the common oil did not agree

with me, I got them to buy me Lucca oil for my salad, and my cotton

counterpane would furnish me with wicks. I then said I had the toothache,

and asked Lawrence to get me a pumice-stone, but as he did not know what

I meant I told him that a musket-flint would do as well if it were soaked

in vinegar for a day, and, then being applied to the tooth the pain would

be eased. Lawrence told me that the vinegar I had was excellent, and that

I could soak the stone myself, and he gave me three or four flints he had

in his pocket. All I had to do was to get some sulphur and tinder, and

the procuring of these two articles set all my wits to work. At last

fortune came to my assistance.

I had suffered from a kind of rash, which as it came off had left some

red spots on my arms, and occasionally caused me some irritation. I told

Lawrence to ask the doctor for a cure, and the next day he brought me a

piece of paper which the secretary had seen, and on which the doctor had

written, "Regulate the food for a day, and the skin will be cured by four

ounces of oil of sweet almonds or an ointment of flour of sulphur, but

this local application is hazardous."

"Never mind the danger," said I to Lawrence; "buy me the ointment, or

rather get me the sulphur, as I have some butter by me, and I can make it

up myself. Have you any matches? Give me a few."

He found some in his pockets, and he gave me them.

What a small thing brings comfort in distress! But in my place these

matches were no small thing, but rather a great treasure.

I had puzzled my head for several hours as to what substitute I could

find for tinder--the only thing I still lacked, and which I could not ask

for under any pretense whatsoever--when I remembered that I had told the

tailor to put some under the armpits of my coat to prevent the

perspiration spoiling the stuff. The coat, quite new, was before me, and

my heart began to beat, but supposing the tailor had not put it in! Thus

I hung between hope and fear. I had only to take a step to know all; but

such a step would have been decisive, and I dared not take it. At last I

drew nigh, and feeling myself unworthy of such mercies I fell on my knees

and fervently prayed of God that the tailor might not have forgotten the

tinder. After this heartfelt prayer I took my coat, unsewed it, and

found-the tinder! My joy knew no bounds. I naturally gave thanks to God,

since it was with confidence in Him that I took courage and searched my

coat, and I returned thanks to Him with all my heart.

I now had all the necessary materials, and I soon made myself a lamp. Let

the reader imagine my joy at having in a manner made light in the midst

of darkness, and it was no less sweet because against the orders of my

infamous oppressors. Now there was no more night for me, and also no more

salad, for though I was very fond of it the need of keeping the oil to

give light caused me to make this sacrifice without it costing me many

pangs. I fixed upon the first Monday in Lent to begin the difficult work

of breaking through the floor, for I suspected that in the tumult of the

carnival I might have some visitors, and I was in the right.

At noon, on Quinquagesima Sunday, I heard the noise of the bolts, and

presently Lawrence entered, followed by a thick-set man whom I recognized

as the Jew, Gabriel Schalon, known for lending money to young men.

We knew each other, so exchanged compliments. His company was by no means

agreeable to me, but my opinion was not asked. He began by congratulating

me on having the pleasure of his society; and by way of answer I offered

him to share my dinner, but he refused, saying he would only take a

little soup, and would keep his appetite for a better supper at his own

house.

"When?"

"This evening. You heard when I asked for my bed he told me that we would

talk about that to-morrow. That means plainly that I shall have no need

of it. And do you think it likely that a man like me would be left

without anything to eat?"

"That was my experience."

"Possibly, but between ourselves our cases are somewhat different; and

without going any farther into that question, the Inquisitors have made a

mistake in arresting me, and they will be in some trouble, I am certain,

as to how to atone for doing so."

"They will possibly give you a pension. A man of your importance has to

be conciliated."

"True, there's not a broker on the exchange more useful than myself, and

the five sages have often profited by the advice I have given them. My

detention is a curious incident, which, perchance, will be of service to

you."

"Indeed. How, may I ask?"

"I will get you out of here in a month's time. I know to whom to speak

and what way to do it:"

"I reckon on you, then."

"You may do so."

This knave and fool together believed himself to be somebody. He

volunteered to inform me as to what was being said of me in the town, but

as he only related the idle tales of men as ignorant as himself, he

wearied me, and to escape listening to him I took up a book. The fellow

had the impudence to ask me not to read, as he was very fond of talking,

but henceforth he talked only to himself. I did not dare to light my lamp

before this creature, and as night drew on he decided on accepting some

bread and Cyprus wine, and he was afterwards obliged to do as best he

could with my mattress, which was now the common bed of all new-comers.

In the morning he had a bed and some food from his own house. I was

burdened with this wretched fellow for two months, for before condemning

him to the Fours the secretary had several interviews with him to bring

to light his knaveries, and to oblige him to cancel a goodly number of

illegal agreements. He confessed to me himself that he had bought of M.

Domenico Micheli the right to moneys which could not belong to the buyer

till after the father of the seller was dead. "It's true," said he, "that

he agreed to give me fifty per cent., but you must consider that if he

died before his father I should lose all." At last, seeing that my cursed

fellow did not go, I determined to light my lamp again after having made

him promise to observe secrecy. He only kept his promise while he was

with me, as Lawrence knew all about it, but luckily he attached no

importance to the fact.

This unwelcome guest was a true burden to me, as he not only prevented me

from working for my escape but also from reading. He was troublesome,

ignorant, superstitious, a braggart, cowardly, and sometimes like a

madman. He would have had me cry, since fear made him weep, and he said

over and over again that this imprisonment would ruin his reputation. On

this count I reassured him with a sarcasm he did not understand. I told

him that his reputation was too well known to suffer anything from this

little misfortune, and he took that for a compliment. He would not

confess to being a miser, but I made him admit that if the Inquisitors

would give him a hundred sequins for every day of his imprisonment he

would gladly pass the rest of his life under the Leads.

He was a Talmudist, like all modern Jews, and he tried to make me believe

that he was very devout; but I once extracted a smile of approbation from

him by telling him that he would forswear Moses if the Pope would make

him a cardinal. As the son of a rabbi he was learned in all the

ceremonies of his religion, but like most men he considered the essence

of a religion to lie in its discipline and outward forms.

This Jew, who was extremely fat, passed three-quarters of his life in

bed; and though he often dozed in the daytime, he was annoyed at not

being able to sleep at night--all the more as he saw that I slept

excellently. He once took it into his head to wake me up as I was

enjoying my sleep.

"What do you want?" said I; "waking me up with a start like this."

"My dear fellow, I can't sleep a wink. Have compassion on me and let us

have a little talk."

"You scoundrel! You act thus and you dare to call yourself my friend! I

know your lack of sleep torments you, but if you again deprive me of the

only blessing I enjoy I will arise and strangle you."

I uttered these words in a kind of transport.

"Forgive me, for mercy's sake! and be sure that I will not trouble you

again."

It is possible that I should not have strangled him, but I was very much

tempted to do so. A prisoner who is happy enough to sleep soundly, all

the while he sleeps is no longer a captive, and feels no more the weight

of his chains. He ought to look upon the wretch who awakens him as a

guard who deprives him of his liberty, and makes him feel his misery once

more, since, awakening, he feels all his former woes. Furthermore, the

sleeping prisoner often dreams that he is free again, in like manner as

the wretch dying of hunger sees himself in dreams seated at a sumptuous

feast.

I congratulated myself on not having commenced my great work before he

came, especially as he required that the room should be swept out. The

first time he asked for it to be dote, the guards made me laugh by saying

that it would kill me. However, he insisted; and I had my revenge by

pretending to be ill, but from interested motives I made no further

opposition.

On the Wednesday in Holy Week Lawrence told us that the secretary would

make us the customary visit in the afternoon, the object being to give

peace to them that would receive the sacrament at Easter, and also to

know if they had anything to say against the gaoler. "So, gentlemen,"

said Lawrence, "if you have any complaints to make of me make them. Dress

yourselves fully, as is customary." I told Lawrence to get me a confessor

for the day.

I put myself into full dress, and the Jew followed my example, taking

leave of me in advance, so sure was he that the secretary would set him

free on hearing what he had to say. "My presentiment," said he, "is of

the same kind as I have had before, and I have never been deceived."

"I congratulate you, but don't reckon without your host." He did not

understand what I meant.

In course of time the secretary came, and as soon as the cell-door was

opened the Jew ran out and threw himself at his feet on both knees, I

heard for five minutes nothing but his tears and complaints, for the

secretary said not one word. He came back, and Lawrence told me to go

out. With a beard of eight months' growth, and a dress made for

love-making in August, I must have presented a somewhat curious

appearance. Much to my disgust I shivered with cold, and was afraid that

the secretary would think I was trembling with fear. As I was obliged to

bend low to come out of my hole, my bow was ready made, and drawing

myself up, I looked at him calmly without affecting any unseasonable

hardihood, and waited for him to speak. The secretary also kept silence,

so that we stood facing each other like a pair of statues. At the end of

two minutes, the secretary, seeing that I said nothing, gave me a slight

bow, and went away. I re-entered my cell, and taking off my clothes in

haste, got into bed to get warm again. The Jew was astonished at my not

having spoken to the secretary, although my silence had cried more loudly

than his cowardly complaints. A prisoner of my kind has no business to

open his mouth before his judge, except to answer questions. On Maundy

Thursday a Jesuit came to confess me, and on Holy Saturday a priest of

St. Mark's came to administer to me the Holy Communion. My confession

appearing rather too laconic to the sweet son of Ignatius he thought good

to remonstrate with me before giving me his absolution.

"Do you pray to God?" he said.

"From the morning unto the evening, and from the evening unto the

morning, for, placed as I am, all that I feel--my anxiety, my grief, all

the wanderings of my mind--can be but a prayer in the eyes of the Divine

Wisdom which alone sees my heart."

The Jesuit smiled slightly and replied by a discourse rather metaphysical

than moral, which did not at all tally with my views. I should have

confuted him on every point if he had not astonished me by a prophecy he

made. "Since it is from us," said he, "that you learnt what you know of

religion, practise it in our fashion, pray like us, and know that you

will only come out of this place on the day of the saint whose name you

bear." So saying he gave me absolution, and left me. This man left the

strongest possible impression on my mind. I did my best, but I could not

rid myself of it. I proceeded to pass in review all the saints in the

calendar.

The Jesuit was the director of M. Flaminio Corner, an old senator, and

then a State Inquisitor. This statesman was a famous man of letters, a

great politician, highly religious, and author of several pious and

ascetic works written in Latin. His reputation was spotless.

On being informed that I should be set free on the feast-day of my patron

saint, and thinking that my informant ought to know for certain what he

told me, I felt glad to have a patron-saint. "But which is it?" I asked

myself. "It cannot be St. James of Compostella, whose name I bear, for it

was on the feast-day of that saint that Messer-Grande burst open my

door." I took the almanac and looking for the saints' days nearest at

hand I found St. George--a saint of some note, but of whom I had never

thought. I then devoted myself to St. Mark, whose feast fell on the

twenty-fifth of the month, and whose protection as a Venetian I might

justly claim. To him, then, I addressed my vows, but all in vain, for his

feast came round and still I was in prison. Then I took myself to St.

James, the brother of Christ, who comes before St. Philip, but again in

the wrong. I tried St. Anthony, who, if the tale told at Padua be true,

worked thirteen miracles a day. He worked none for me. Thus I passed from

one to the other, and by degrees I got to hope in the protection of the

saints just as one hopes for anything one desires, but does not expect to

come to pass; and I finished up by hoping only in my Saint Bar, and in

the strength of my arms. Nevertheless the promise of the Jesuit came to

pass, since I escaped from The Leads on All Hallows Day; and it is

certain that if I had a patron-saint, he must be looked for in their

number since they are all honoured on that day.

A fortnight after Easter I was delivered from my troublesome Israelite,

and the poor devil instead of being sent back to his home had to spend

two years in The Fours, and on his gaining his freedom he went and set up

in Trieste, where he ended his days.

No sooner was I again alone than I set zealously about my work. I had to

make haste for fear of some new visitor, who, like the Jew, might insist

on the cell being swept. I began by drawing back my bed, and after

lighting my lamp I lay down on my belly, my pike in my hand, with a

napkin close by in which to gather the fragments of board as I scooped

them out. My task was to destroy the board by dint of driving into it the

point of my tool. At first the pieces I got away were not much larger

than grains of wheat, but they soon increased in size.

The board was made of deal, and was sixteen inches broad. I began to

pierce it at its juncture with another board, and as there were no nails

or clamps my work was simple. After six hours' toil I tied up the napkin,

and put it on one side to empty it the following day behind the pile of

papers in the garret. The fragments were four or five times larger in

bulk than the hole from whence they came. I put back my bed in its place,

and on emptying the napkin the next morning I took care so to dispose the

fragments that they should not be seen.

Having broken through the first board, which I found to be two inches

thick, I was stopped by a second which I judged to be as thick as the

first. Tormented by the fear of new visitors I redoubled my efforts, and

in three weeks I had pierced the three boards of which the floor was

composed; and then I thought that all was lost, for I found I had to

pierce a bed of small pieces of marble known at Venice as terrazzo

marmorin. This forms the usual floor of venetian houses of all kinds,

except the cottages, for even the high nobility prefer the terrazzo to

the finest boarded floor. I was thunderstruck to find that my bar made no

impression on this composition; but, nevertheless, I was not altogether

discouraged and cast down. I remembered Hannibal, who, according to Livy,

opened up a passage through the Alps by breaking the rocks with axes and

other instruments, having previously softened them with vinegar. I

thought that Hannibal had succeeded not by aceto, but aceta, which in the

Latin of Padua might well be the same as ascia; and who can guarantee the

text to be free from the blunders of the copyist? All the same, I poured

into the hole a bottle of strong vinegar I had by me, and in the morning,

either because of the vinegar or because I, refreshed and rested, put

more strength and patience into the work, I saw that I should overcome

this new difficulty; for I had not to break the pieces of marble, but

only to pulverize with the end of my bar the cement which kept them

together. I soon perceived that the greatest difficulty was on the

surface, and in four days the whole mosaic was destroyed without the

point of my pike being at all damaged.

Below the pavement I found another plank, but I had expected as much. I

concluded that this would be the last; that is the first to be put down

when the rooms below were being ceiled. I pierced it with some

difficulty, as, the hole being ten inches deep, it had become troublesome

to work the pike. A thousand times I commended myself to the mercy of

God. Those Free-thinkers who say that praying is no good do not know what

they are talking about; for I know by experience that, having prayed to

God, I always felt myself grow stronger, which fact amply proves the

usefulness of prayer, whether the renewal of strength come straight from

God, or whether it comes only from the trust one has in Him.

On the 25th of June, on which day the Republic celebrates the wonderful

appearance of St. Mark under the form of a winged lion in the ducal

church, about three o'clock in the afternoon, as I was labouring on my

belly at the hole, stark naked, covered with sweat, my lamp beside me. I

heard with mortal fear the shriek of a bolt and the noise of the door of

the first passage. It was a fearful moment! I blew out my lamp, and

leaving my bar in the hole I threw into it the napkin with the shavings

it contained, and as swift as lightning I replaced my bed as best I

could, and threw myself on it just as the door of my cell opened. If

Lawrence had come in two seconds sooner he would have caught me. He was

about to walk over me, but crying out dolefully I stopped him, and he

fell back, saying,

"Truly, sir, I pity you, for the air here is as hot as a furnace. Get up,

and thank God for giving you such good company."

"Come in, my lord, come in," said he to the poor wretch who followed him.

Then, without heeding my nakedness, the fellow made the noble gentleman

enter, and he seeing me to be naked, sought to avoid me while I vainly

tried to find my shirt.

The new-comer thought he was in hell, and cried out,

"Where am I? My God! where have I been put? What heat! What a stench!

With whom am I?"

Lawrence made him go out, and asked me to put on my shirt to go into the

garret for a moment. Addressing himself to the new prisoner, he said

that, having to get a bed and other necessaries, he would leave us in the

garret till he came back, and that, in the mean time, the cell would be

freed from the bad smell, which was only oil. What a start it gave me as

I heard him utter the word "oil." In my hurry I had forgotten to snuff

the wick after blowing it out. As Lawrence asked me no questions about

it, I concluded that he knew all, and the accursed Jew must have betrayed

me. I thought myself lucky that he was not able to tell him any more.

From that time the repulsion which I had felt for Lawrence disappeared.

After putting on my shirt and dressing-gown, I went out and found my new

companion engaged in writing a list of what he wanted the gaoler to get

him. As soon as he saw me, he exclaimed, "Ah! it's Casanova." I, too,

recognised him as the Abbe and Count Fenarolo, a man of fifty, amiable,

rich, and a favourite in society. He embraced me, and when I told him

that I should have expected to see anybody in that place rather than him,

he could not keep back his tears, which made me weep also.

When we were alone I told him that, as soon as his bed came, I should

offer him the recess, begging him at the same time not to accept it. I

asked him, also, not to ask to have the cell swept, saying that I would

tell him the reason another time. He promised to keep all secrecy in the

matter, and said he thought himself fortunate to be placed with me. He

said that as no one knew why I was imprisoned, everyone was guessing at

it. Some said that I was the heresiarch of a new sect; others that Madame

Memmo had persuaded the Inquisitors that I had made her sons Atheists,

and others that Antony Condulmer, the State Inquisitor, had me imprisoned

as a disturber of the peace, because I hissed Abbe Chiari's plays, and

had formed a design to go to Padua for the express purpose of killing

him.

All these accusations had a certain foundation in fact which gave them an

air of truth, but in reality they were all wholly false. I cared too

little for religion to trouble myself to found a new one. The sons of

Madame Memmo were full of wit, and more likely to seduce than to be

seduced; and Master Condulmer would have had too much on his hands if he

had imprisoned all those who hissed the Abbe Chiari; and as for this

abbe, once a Jesuit, I had forgiven him, as the famous Father Origo,

himself formerly a Jesuit, had taught me to take my revenge by praising

him everywhere, which incited the malicious to vent their satire on the

abbe; and thus I was avenged without any trouble to myself.

In the evening they brought a good bed, fine linen, perfumes, an

excellent supper, and choice wines. The abbe ate nothing, but I supped

for two. When Lawrence had wished us good night and had shut us up till

the next day, I got out my lamp, which I found to be empty, the napkin

having sucked up all the oil. This made me laugh, for as the napkin might

very well have caught and set the room on fire, the idea of the confusion

which would have ensued excited my hilarity. I imparted the cause of my

mirth to my companion, who laughed himself, and then, lighting the lamp,

we spent the night in pleasant talk. The history of his imprisonment was

as follows:

"Yesterday, at three o'clock in the afternoon, Madame Alessandria, Count

Martinengo, and myself, got into a gondola. We went to Padua to see the

opera, intending to return to Venice afterwards. In the second act my

evil genius led me to the gaming-table, where I unfortunately saw Count

Rosenberg, the Austrian ambassador, without his mask, and about ten paces

from him was Madame Ruzzini, whose husband is going to Vienna to

represent the Republic. I greeted them both, and was just going away,

when the ambassador called out to me, so as to be heard by everyone, 'You

are very fortunate in being able to pay your court to so sweet a lady. At

present the personage I represent makes the fairest land in the world no

better for me than a galley. Tell the lady, I beseech you, that the laws

which now prevent me speaking to her will be without force at Venice,

where I shall go next year, and then I shall declare war against her.'

Madame Ruzzini, who saw that she was being spoken of, asked me what the

count had said, and I told her, word for word. 'Tell him,' said she,

'that I accept his declaration of war, and that we shall see who will

wage it best.' I did not think I had committed a crime in reporting her

reply, which was after all a mere compliment. After the opera we set out,

and got here at midnight. I was going to sleep when a messenger brought

me a note ordering me to go to the Bussola at one o'clock, Signor

Bussinello, Secretary of the Council of Ten, having something to say to

me. Astonished at such an order--always of bad omen, and vexed at being

obliged to obey, I went at the time appointed, and my lord secretary,

without giving me a word, ordered me to be taken here."

Certainly no fault could be less criminal than that which Count Fenarolo

had committed, but one can break certain laws in all innocence without

being any the less punishable. I congratulated him on knowing what his

crime had been, and told him that he would be set free in a week, and

would be requested to spend six months in the Bressian. "I can't think,"

said he, "that they will leave me here for a week." I determined to keep

him good company, and to soften the bitterness of his imprisonment, and

so well did I sympathize with his position that I forgot all about my

own.

The next morning at day-break, Lawrence brought coffee and a basket

filled with all the requisites for a good dinner. The abbe was

astonished, for he could not conceive how anyone could eat at such an

early hour. They let us walk for an hour in the garret and then shut us

up again, and we saw no more of them throughout the day. The fleas which

tormented us made the abbe ask why I did not have the cell swept out. I

could not let him think that dirt and untidiness was agreeable to me, or

that my skin was any harder than his own, so I told him the whole story,

and shewed him what I had done. He was vexed at having as it were forced

me to make him my confidant, but he encouraged me to go on, and if

possible to finish what I was about that day, as he said he would help me

to descend and then would draw up the rope, not wishing to complicate his

own difficulties by an escape. I shewed him the model of a contrivance by

means of which I could certainly get possession of the sheets which were

to be my rope; it was a short stick attached by one end to a long piece

of thread. By this stick I intended to attach my rope to the bed, and as

the thread hung down to the floor of the room below, as soon as I got

there I should pull the thread and the rope would fall down. He tried it,

and congratulated me on my invention, as this was a necessary part of my

scheme, as otherwise the rope hanging down would have immediately

discovered me. My noble companion was convinced that I ought to stop my

work, for I might be surprised, having to do several days' work before

finishing the hole which would cost Lawrence his life. Should the thought

of gaining my liberty at the expense of a fellow-creature have made me

desist? I should have still persisted if my escape had meant death to the

whole body of Venetian guards, and even to the Inquisitors themselves.

Can the love of country, all holy though it be, prevail in the heart of

the man whose country is oppressing him?

My good humour did not prevent my companion having some bad quarters of

an hour. He was in love with Madame Alessandria, who had been a singer,

and was either the mistress or the wife of his friend Martinengo; and he

should have deemed himself happy, but the happier a lover is, so much the

more his unhappiness when he is snatched from the beloved object. He

sighed, wept, and declared that he loved a woman in whom all the noble

virtues were contained. I compassionated him, and took care not to

comfort him by saying that love is a mere trifle--a cold piece of comfort

given to lovers by fools, and, moreover, it is not true that love is a

mere trifle.

The week I had mentioned as the probable term of his imprisonment passed

quickly enough, and I lost my friend, but did not waste my time by

mourning for him; he was set free, and I was content. I did not beg him

to be discreet, for the least doubt on that score would have wounded his

noble spirit. During the week he was with me he only ate soup and fruit,

taking a little Canary wine. It was I who made good cheer in his stead

and greatly to his delight. Before he left we swore eternal friendship.

The next day Lawrence gave me an account of my money, and on finding that

I had a balance of four sequins I gave them to him, telling him it was a

present from me to his wife. I did not tell him that it was for the rent

of my lamp, but he was free to think so if he chose. Again betaking

myself to my work, and toiling without cessation, on the 23rd of August I

saw it finished. This delay was caused by an inevitable accident. As I

was hollowing out the last plank, I put my eye to a little hole, through

which I ought to have seen the hall of the Inquisitors-in fact, I did see

it, but I saw also at one side of the hole a surface about eight inches

thick. It was, as I had feared all the time it would be, one of the beams

which kept up the ceiling. I was thus compelled to enlarge my hole on the

other side, for the beam would have made it so narrow that a man of my

size could never have got through. I increased the hole, therefore, by a

fourth, working--between fear and hope, for it was possible that the

space between two of the beams would not be large enough. After I had

finished, a second little hole assured me that God had blessed my labour.

I then carefully stopped up the two small holes to prevent anything

falling down into the hall, and also lest a ray from my lamp should be

perceived, for this would have discovered all and ruined me.

I fixed my escape for the eve of St. Augustine's Day, because I knew that

the Grand Council assembled on that feast, and there would consequently

be nobody near the room through which I must pass in getting away. This

would have been on the twenty-seventh of the month, but a misfortune

happened to me on the twenty-fifth which makes me still shudder when I

think of it, notwithstanding the years which have passed since then.

Precisely at noon I heard the noise of bolts, and I thought I should die;

for a violent beating of the heart made me imagine my last hour was come.

I fell into my easy chair, and waited. Lawrence came into the garret and

put his head at the grating, and said, "I give you joy, sir, for the good

news I am bringing you." At first, not being able to think of any other

news which could be good to me, I fancied I had been set at liberty, and

I trembled, for I knew that the discovery of the hole I had made would

have caused my pardon to be recalled.

Lawrence came in and told me to follow him.

"Wait till I put on my clothes."

"It's of no consequence, as you only have to walk from this abominable

cell to another, well lighted and quite fresh, with two windows whence

you can see half Venice, and you can stand upright too."----I could bear

no more, I felt that I was fainting. "Give me the vinegar," said I, "and

go and tell the secretary that I thank the Court for this favour, and

entreat it to leave me where I am."

"You make me laugh, sir. Have you gone mad? They would take you from hell

to put you in heaven, and you would refuse to stir? Come, come, the Court

must be obeyed, pray rise, sir. I will give you my arm, and will have

your clothes and your books brought for you." Seeing that resistance was

of no avail, I got up, and was much comforted at hearing him give orders

for my arm-chair to be brought, for my pike was to follow me, and with it

hope. I should have much liked to have been able to take the hole--the

object of so much wasted trouble and hope--with me. I may say with truth

that, as I came forth from that horrible and doleful place, my spirit

remained there.

Leaning on Lawrence's shoulder, while he, thinking to cheer me up,

cracked his foolish jokes, I passed through two narrow passages, and

going down three steps I found myself in a well-lighted hall, at the end

of which, on the left-hand side, was a door leading into another passage

two feet broad by about twelve long, and in the corner was my new cell.

It had a barred window which was opposite to two windows, also barred,

which lighted the passage, and thus one had a fine view as far as Lido.

At that trying moment I did not care much for the view; but later on I

found that a sweet and pleasant wind came through the window when it was

opened, and tempered the insufferable heat; and this was a true blessing

for the poor wretch who had to breathe the sultry prison air, especially

in the hot season.

As soon as I got into my new cell Lawrence had my arm-chair brought in,

and went away, saying that he would have the remainder of my effects

brought to me. I sat on my arm-chair as motionless as a statue, waiting

for the storm, but not fearing it. What overwhelmed me was the

distressing idea that all my pains and contrivances were of no use,

nevertheless I felt neither sorry nor repentant for what I had done, and

I made myself abstain from thinking of what was going to happen, and thus

kept myself calm.

Lifting up my soul to God I could not help thinking that this misfortune

was a Divine punishment for neglecting to escape when all was ready.

Nevertheless, though I could have escaped three days sooner, I thought my

punishment too severe, all the more as I had put off my escape from

motives of prudence, which seemed to me worthy of reward, for if I had

only consulted my own impatience to be gone I should have risked

everything. To controvert the reasons which made me postpone my flight to

the 27th of August, a special revelation would have been requisite; and

though I had read "Mary of Agrada" I was not mad enough for that.

The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova de Seingalt, 1725-1798. Volume 10: under the Leads · 第 2 / 7 章