Pittoni--Zaguri--The Procurator Morosini--The Venetian
Consul--Gorice--The French Consul--Madame Leo--My Devotion to The State
Inquisitors--Strasoldo--Madame Cragnoline--General Burghausen
The landlord asked me my name, we made our agreement, and I found myself
very comfortably lodged. Next day I went to the post-office and found
several letters which had been awaiting me for the last month. I opened
one from M. Dandolo, and found an open enclosure from the patrician Marco
Dona, addressed to Baron Pittoni, Chief of Police. On reading it, I found
I was very warmly commended to the baron. I hastened to call on him, and
gave him the letter, which he took but did not read. He told me that M.
Donna had written to him about me, and that he would be delighted to do
anything in his power for me.
I then took Mardocheus's letter to his friend Moses Levi. I had not the
slightest idea that the letter had any reference to myself, so I gave it
to the first clerk that I saw in the office.
Levi was an honest and an agreeable man, and the next day he called on me
and offered me his services in the most cordial manner. He shewed me the
letter I had delivered, and I was delighted to find that it referred to
myself. The worthy Mardocheus begged him to give me a hundred sequins in
case I needed any money, adding that any politeness shewn to me would be
as if shewn to himself.
This behaviour on the part of Mardocheus filled me with gratitude, and
reconciled me, so to speak, with the whole Jewish nation. I wrote him a
letter of thanks, offering to serve him at Venice in any way I could.
I could not help comparing the cordiality of Levi's welcome with the
formal and ceremonious reception of Baron Pittoni. The baron was ten or
twelve years younger than I. He was a man of parts, and quite devoid of
prejudice. A sworn foe of 'meum and tuum', and wholly incapable of
economy, he left the whole care of his house to his valet, who robbed
him, but the baron knew it and made no objection. He was a determined
bachelor, a gallant, and the friend and patron of libertines. His chief
defect was his forgetfulness and absence of mind, which made him
mismanage important business.
He was reputed, though wrongly, to be a liar. A liar is a person who
tells falsehoods intentionally, while if Pittoni told lies it was because
he had forgotten the truth. We became good friends in the course of a
month, and we have remained friends to this day.
I wrote to my friends at Venice, announcing my arrival at Trieste, and
for the next ten days I kept my room, busied in putting together the
notes I had made on Polish events since the death of Elizabeth Petrovna.
I meant to write a history of the troubles of unhappy Poland up to its
dismemberment, which was taking place at the epoch in which I was
writing.
I had foreseen all this when the Polish Diet recognized the dying czarina
as Empress of all the Russians, and the Elector of Brandenburg as King of
Prussia, and I proceeded with my history; but only the first three
volumes were published, owing to the printers breaking the agreement.
The four last volumes will be found in manuscript after my death, and
anyone who likes may publish them. But I have become indifferent to all
this as to many other matters since I have seen Folly crowned king of the
earth.
To-day there is no such country as Poland, but it might still be in
existence if it had not been for the ambition of the Czartoryski family,
whose pride had been humiliated by Count Bruhl, the prime minister. To
gain vengeance Prince Augustus Czartoryski ruined his country. He was so
blinded by passion that he forgot that all actions have their inevitable
results.
Czartoryski had determined not only to exclude the House of Saxony from
the succession, but to dethrone the member of that family who was
reigning. To do this the help of the Czarina and of the Elector of
Brandenburg was necessary, so he made the Polish Diet acknowledge the one
as Empress of all the Russians, and the other as King of Prussia. The two
sovereigns would not treat with the Polish Commonwealth till this claim
had been satisfied; but the Commonwealth should never have granted these
titles, for Poland itself possessed most of the Russias, and was the true
sovereign of Prussia, the Elector of Brandenburg being only Duke of
Prussia in reality.
Prince Czartoryski, blinded by the desire of vengeance, persuaded the
Diet that to give the two sovereigns these titles would be merely a form,
and that they would never become anything more than honorary. This might
be so, but if Poland had possessed far-seeing statesmen they would have
guessed that an honorary title would end in the usurpation of the whole
country.
The Russian palatin had the pleasure of seeing his nephew Stanislas
Poniatowski on the throne.
I myself told him that these titles gave a right, and that the promise
not to make any use of them was a mere delusion. I added jokingly--for I
was obliged to adopt a humorous tone--that before long Europe would take
pity on Poland, which had to bear the heavy weight of all the Russias and
the kingdom of Prussia as well, and the Commonwealth would find itself
relieved of all these charges.
My prophecy has been fulfilled. The two princes whose titles were allowed
have torn Poland limb from limb; it is now absorbed in Russia and
Prussia.
The second great mistake made by Poland was in not remembering the
apologue of the man and the horse when the question of protection
presented itself.
The Republic of Rome became mistress of the world by protecting other
nations.
Thus Poland came to ruin through ambition, vengeance, and folly--but
folly most of all.
The same reason lay at the root of the French Revolution. Louis XVI. paid
the penalty of his folly with his life. If he had been a wise ruler he
would still be on the throne, and France would have escaped the fury of
the Revolutionists. France is sick; in any other country this sickness
might be remedied, but I would not wonder if it proved incurable in
France.
Certain emotional persons are moved to pity by the emigrant French
nobles, but for my part I think them only worthy of contempt. Instead of
parading their pride and their disgrace before the eyes of foreign
nations, they should have rallied round their king, and either have saved
the throne or died under its ruins. What will become of France? It was
hard to say; but it is certain that a body without a head cannot live
very long, for reason is situate in the head.
On December 1st Baron Pittoni begged me to call on him as some one had
come from Venice on purpose to see me.
I dressed myself hastily, and went to the baron's, where I saw a
fine-looking man of thirty-five or forty, elegantly dressed. He looked at
me with the liveliest interest.
"My heart tells me," I began, "that your excellence's name is Zaguri?"
"Exactly so, my dear Casanova. As soon as my friend Dandolo told me of
your arrival here, I determined to come and congratulate you on your
approaching recall, which will take place either this year or the next,
as I hope to see two friends of mine made Inquisitors. You may judge of
my friendship for you when I tell you that I am an 'avogador', and that
there is a law forbidding such to leave Venice. We will spend to-day and
to-morrow together."
I replied in a manner to convince him that I was sensible of the honour
he had done me; and I heard Baron Pittoni begging me to excuse him for
not having come to see me. He said he had forgotten all about it, and a
handsome old man begged his excellence to ask me to dine with him, though
he had not the pleasure of knowing me.
"What!" said Zaguri. "Casanova has been here for the last ten days, and
does not know the Venetian consul?"
I hastened to speak.
"It's my own fault," I observed, "I did not like calling on this
gentleman, for fear he might think me contraband."
The consul answered wittily that I was not contraband but in quarantine,
pending my return to my native land; and that in the meanwhile his house
would always be open to me, as had been the house of the Venetian consul
at Ancona.
In this manner he let me know that he knew something about me, and I was
not at all sorry for it.
Marco Monti, such was the consul's name, was a man of parts and much
experience; a pleasant companion and a great conversationalist, fond of
telling amusing stories with a grave face--in fact, most excellent
company.
I was something of a 'conteur' myself, and we soon became friendly rivals
in telling anecdotes. In spite of his thirty additional years I was a
tolerable match for him, and when we were in a room there was no question
of gaining to kill the time.
We became fast friends, and I benefited a good deal by his offices during
the two years I spent in Trieste, and I have always thought that he had a
considerable share in obtaining my recall. That was my great object in
those days; I was a victim to nostalgia, or home sickness.
With the Swiss and the Sclavs it is really a fatal disease, which carries
them off if they are not sent home immediately. Germans are subject to
this weakness also; whilst the French suffer very little, and Italians
not much more from the complaint.
No rule, however, lacks its exception, and I was one. I daresay I should
have got over my nostalgia if I had treated it with contempt, and then I
should not have wasted ten years of my life in the bosom of my cruel
stepmother Venice.
I dined with M. Zaguri at the consul's, and I was invited to dine with
the governor, Count Auersperg, the next day.
The visit from a Venetian 'avogador' made me a person of great
consideration. I was no longer looked upon as an exile, but as one who
had successfully escaped from illegal confinement.
The day after I accompanied M. Zaguri to Gorice, where he stayed three
days to enjoy the hospitality of the nobility. I was included in all
their invitations, and I saw that a stranger could live very pleasantly
at Gorice.
I met there a certain Count Cobenzl, who may be alive now--a man of
wisdom, generosity, and the vastest learning, and yet without any kind of
pretention. He gave a State dinner to M. Zaguri, and I had the pleasure
of meeting there three or four most charming ladies. I also met Count
Tomes, a Spaniard whose father was in in the Austrian service. He had
married at sixty, and had five children all as ugly as himself. His
daughter was a charming girl in spite of her plainness; she evidently got
her character from the mother's side. The eldest son, who was ugly and
squinted, was a kind of pleasant madman, but he was also a liar, a
profligate, a boaster, and totally devoid of discretion. In spite of
these defects he was much sought after in society as he told a good tale
and made people laugh. If he had been a student, he would have been a
distinguished scholar, as his memory was prodigious. He it was who vainly
guaranteed the agreement I made with Valerio Valeri for printing my
"History of Poland." I also met at Gorice a Count Coronini, who was known
in learned circles as the author of some Latin treatises on diplomacy.
Nobody read his books, but everybody agreed that he was a very learned
man.
I also met a young man named Morelli, who had written a history of the
place and was on the point of publishing the first volume. He gave me his
MS. begging me to make any corrections that struck me as desirable. I
succeeded in pleasing him, as I gave him back his work without a single
note or alteration of any kind, and thus he became my friend.
I became a great friend of Count Francis Charles Coronini, who was a man
of talents. He had married a Belgian lady, but not being able to agree
they had separated and he passed his time in trifling intrigues, hunting,
and reading the papers, literary and political. He laughed at those sages
who declared that there was not one really happy person in the world, and
he supported his denial by the unanswerable dictum:
"I myself am perfectly happy."
However, as he died of a tumor in the head at the age of thirty-five, he
probably acknowledged his mistake in the agonies of death.
There is no such thing as a perfectly happy or perfectly unhappy man in
the world. One has more happiness in his life and another more
unhappiness, and the same circumstance may produce widely different
effects on individuals of different temperaments.
It is not a fact that virtue ensures happiness for the exercise of some
virtues implies suffering, and suffering is incompatible with happiness.
My readers may be aware that I am not inclined to make mental pleasure
pre-eminent and all sufficing. It may be a fine thing to have a clear
conscience, but I cannot see that it would at all relieve the pangs of
hunger.
Baron Pittoni and myself escorted Zaguri to the Venetian border, and we
then returned to Trieste together.
In three or four days Pittoni took me everywhere, including the club
where none but persons of distinction were admitted. This club was held
at the inn where I was staying.
Amongst the ladies, the most noteworthy was the wife of the merchant,
David Riguelin, who was a Swabian by birth.
Pittoni was in love with her and continued so till her death. His suit
lasted for twelve years, and like Petrarch, he still sighed, still hoped,
but never succeeded. Her name was Zanetta, and besides her beauty she had
the charm of being an exquisite singer and a polished hostess. Still more
noteworthy, however, was the unvarying sweetness and equability of her
disposition.
I did not want to know her long before recognizing that she was
absolutely impregnable. I told Pittoni so, but all in vain; he still fed
on empty hope.
Zanetta had very poor health, though no one would have judged so from her
appearance, but it was well known to be the case. She died at an early
age.
A few days after M. Zaguri's departure, I had a note from the consul
informing me that the Procurator Morosini was stopping in my inn, and
advising me to call on him if I knew him.
I was infinitely obliged for this advice, for M. Morosini was a personage
of the greatest importance. He had known me from childhood, and the
reader may remember that he had presented me to Marshal Richelieu, at
Fontainebleau, in 1750.
I dressed myself as if I had been about to speak to a monarch, and sent
in a note to his room.
I had not long to wait; he came out and welcomed me most graciously,
telling me how delighted he was to see me again.
When he heard the reason of my being at Trieste, and how I desired to
return to my country, he assured me he would do all in his power to
obtain me my wish. He thanked me for the care I had taken of his nephew
at Florence, and kept me all the day while I told him my principal
adventures.
He was glad to hear that M. Zaguri was working for me, and said that they
must concert the mater together. He commended me warmly to the consul,
who was delighted to be able to inform the Tribunal of the consideration
with which M. Morosini treated me.
After the procurator had gone I began to enjoy life at Trieste, but in
strict moderation and with due regard for economy, for I had only fifteen
sequins a month. I abjured play altogether.
Every day I dined with one of the circle of my friends, who were the
Venetian consul, the French consul (an eccentric but worthy man who kept
a good cook), Pittoni, who kept an excellent table, thanks to his man who
knew what was to his own interests, and several others.
As for the pleasures of love I enjoyed them in moderation, taking care of
my purse and of my health.
Towards the end of the carnival I went to a masked ball at the theatre,
and in the course of the evening a harlequin came up and presented his
columbine to me. They both began to play tricks on me. I was pleased with
the columbine, and felt a strong desire to be acquainted with her. After
some vain researches the French consul, M. de St. Sauveur, told me that
the harlequin was a young lady of rank, and that the columbine was a
handsome young man.
"If you like," he added, "I will introduce you to the harlequin's family,
and I am sure you will appreciate her charms when you see her as a girl."
As they persisted in their jokes I was able, without wounding decency
overmuch, to convince myself that the consul was right on the question of
sex; and when the ball was over I said I should be obliged by his
introducing me as he had promised. He promised to do so the day after Ash
Wednesday.
Thus I made the acquaintance of Madame Leo, who was still pretty and
agreeable, though she had lived very freely in her younger days. There
was her husband, a son, and six daughters, all handsome, but especially
the harlequin with whom I was much taken. Naturally I fell in love with
her, but as I was her senior by thirty years, and had begun my addresses
in a tone of fatherly affection, a feeling of shame prevented my
disclosing to her the real state of my heart. Four years later she told
me herself that she had guessed my real feelings, and had been amused by
my foolish restraint.
A young girl learns deeper lessons from nature than we men can acquire
with all our experience.
At the Easter of 1773 Count Auersperg, the Governor of Trieste, was
recalled to Vienna, and Count Wagensberg took his place. His eldest
daughter, the Countess Lantieri, who was a great beauty, inspired me with
a passion which would have made me unhappy if I had not succeeded in
hiding it under a veil of the profoundest respect.
I celebrated the accession of the new governor by some verses which I had
printed, and in which, while lauding the father, I paid conspicuous
homage to the charms of the daughter.
My tribute pleased them, and I became an intimate friend of the count's.
He placed confidence in me with the idea of my using it to my own
advantage, for though he did not say so openly I divined his intention.
The Venetian consul had told me that he had been vainly endeavouring for
the last four years to get the Government of Trieste to arrange for the
weekly diligence from Trieste to Mestre to pass by Udine, the capital of
the Venetian Friuli.
"This alteration," he had said, "would greatly benefit the commerce of
the two states; but the Municipal Council of Trieste opposes it for a
plausible but ridiculous reason."
These councillors, in the depth of their wisdom, said that if the
Venetian Republic desired the alteration it would evidently be to their
advantage, and consequently to the disadvantage of Trieste.
The consul assured me that if I could in any way obtain the concession it
would weigh strongly in my favour with the State Inquisitors, and even in
the event of my non-success he would represent my exertions in the most
favourable light.
I promised I would think the matter over.
Finding myself high in the governor's favour, I took the opportunity of
addressing myself to him on the subject. He had heard about the matter,
and thought the objection of the Town Council absurd and even monstrous;
but he professed his inability to do anything himself.
"Councillor Rizzi," said he, "is the most obstinate of them all, and has
led astray the rest with his sophisms. But do you send me in a memorandum
shewing that the alteration will have a much better effect on the large
commerce of Trieste than on the comparatively trifling trade of Udine. I
shall send it into the Council without disclosing the authorship, but
backing it with my authority, and challenging the opposition to refute
your arguments. Finally, if they do not decide reasonably I shall
proclaim before them all my intention to send the memoir to Vienna with
my opinion on it."
I felt confident of success, and wrote out a memoir full of
incontrovertible reasons in favour of the proposed change.
My arguments gained the victory; the Council were persuaded, and Count
Wagensberg handed me the decree, which I immediately laid before the
Venetian consul. Following his advice, I wrote to the secretary of the
Tribunal to the effect that I was happy to have given the Government a
proof of my zeal, and an earnest of my desire to be useful to my country
and to be worthy of being recalled.
Out of regard for me the count delayed the promulgation of the decree for
a week, so that the people of Udine heard the news from Venice before it
had reached Trieste, and everybody thought that the Venetian Government
had achieved its ends by bribery. The secretary of the Tribunal did not
answer my letter, but he wrote to the consul ordering him to give me a
hundred ducats, and to inform me that this present was to encourage me to
serve the Republic. He added that I might hope great things from the
mercy of the Inquisitors if I succeeded in negotiating the Armenian
difficulty.
The consul gave me the requisite information, and my impression was that
my efforts would be in vain; however, I resolved to make the attempt.
Four Armenian monks had left the Convent of St. Lazarus at Venice, having
found the abbot's tyranny unbearable. They had wealthy relations at
Constantinople, and laughed the excommunication of their late tyrant to
scorn. They sought asylum at Vienna, promising to make themselves useful
to the State by establishing an Armenian press to furnish all the
Armenian convents with books. They engaged to sink a capital of a million
florins if they were allowed to settle in Austria, to found their press,
and to buy or build a convent, where they proposed to live in community
but without any abbot.
As might be expected the Austrian Government did not hesitate to grant
their request; it did more, it gave them special privileges.
The effect of this arrangement would be to deprive Venice of a lucrative
trade, and to place it in the emperor's dominions. Consequently the
Viennese Court sent them to Trieste with a strong recommendation to the
governor, and they had been there for the past six months.
The Venetian Government, of course, wished to entice them back to Venice.
They had vainly induced their late abbot to make handsome offers to them,
and they then proceeded by indirect means, endeavoring to stir up
obstacles in their way, and to disgust them with Trieste.
The consul told me plainly that he had not touched the matter, thinking
success to be out of the question; and he predicted that if I attempted
it I should find myself in the dilemma of having to solve the insoluble.
I felt the force of the consul's remark when I reflected that I could not
rely on the governor's assistance, or even speak to him on the subject. I
saw that I must not let him suspect my design, for besides his duty to
his Government he was a devoted friend to the interests of Trieste, and
for this reason a great patron of the monks.
In spite of these obstacles my nostalgia made me make acquaintance with
these monks under pretence of inspecting their Armenian types, which they
were already casting. In a week or ten days I became quite intimate with
them. One day I said that they were bound in honour to return to the
obedience of their abbot, if only to annul his sentence of
excommunication.
The most obstinate of them told me that the abbot had behaved more like a
despot than a father, and had thus absolved them from their obedience.
"Besides," he said, "no rascally priest has any right to cut off good
Christians from communion with the Saviour, and we are sure that our
patriarch will give us absolution and send us some more monks."
I could make no objection to these arguments; however, I asked on another
occasion on what conditions they would return to Venice.
The most sensible of them said that in the first place the abbot must
withdraw the four hundred thousand ducats which he had entrusted to the
Marquis Serpos at four per cent.
This sum was the capital from which the income of the Convent of St.
Lazarus was derived. The abbot had no right whatever to dispose of it,
even with the consent of a majority among the monks. If the marquis
became bankrupt the convent would be utterly destitute. The marquis was
an Armenian diamond merchant, and a great friend of the abbot's.
I then asked the monks what were the other conditions, and they replied
that these were some matters of discipline which might easily be settled;
they would give me a written statement of their grievances as soon as I
could assure them that the Marquis Serpos was no longer in possession of
their funds.
I embodied my negotiations in writing, and sent the document to the
Inquisitors by the consul. In six weeks I received an answer to the
effect that the abbot saw his way to arranging the money difficulty, but
that he must see a statement of the reforms demanded before doing so.
This decided me to have nothing to do with the affair, but a few words
from Count Wagensberg made me throw it up without further delay. He gave
me to understand that he knew of my attempts to reconcile the four monks
with their abbot, and he told me that he had been sorry to hear the
report, as my success would do harm to a country where I lived and where
I was treated as a friend.
I immediately told him the whole story, assuring him that I would never
have begun the negotiation if I had not been certain of failure, for I
heard on undoubted authority that Serpos could not possibly restore the
four hundred thousand ducats.
This explanation thoroughly dissipated any cloud that might have arisen
between us.
The Armenians bought Councillor Rizzi's house for thirty thousand
florins. Here they established themselves, and I visited them from time
to time without saying anything more about Venice.
Count Wagensberg gave me another proof of his friendship. Unhappily for
me he died during the autumn of the same year, at the age of fifty.
One morning he summoned me, and I found him perusing a document he had
just received from Vienna. He told me he was sorry I did not read German,
but that he would tell me the contents of the paper.
"Here," he continued, "you will be able to serve your country without in
any way injuring Austria.
"I am going to confide in you a State secret (it being understood of
course that my name is never to be mentioned) which ought to be greatly
to your advantage, whether you succeed or fail; at all hazards your
patriotism, your prompt action, and your cleverness in obtaining such
information will be made manifest. Remember you must never divulge your
sources of information; only tell your Government that you are perfectly
sure of the authenticity of the statement you make.
"You must know," he continued, "that all the commodities we export to
Lombardy pass through Venice where they have to pay duty. Such has long
been the custom, and it may still be so if the Venetian Government will
consent to reduce the duty of four per cent to two per cent.
"A plan has been brought before the notice of the Austrian Court, and it
has been eagerly accepted. I have received certain orders on the matter,
which I shall put into execution without giving any warning to the
Venetian Government.
"In future all goods for Lombardy will be embarked here and disembarked
at Mezzola without troubling the Republic. Mezzola is in the territories
of the Duke of Modem; a ship can cross the gulf in the night, and our
goods will be placed in storehouses, which will be erected.
"In this way we shall shorten the journey and decrease the freights, and
the Modenese Government will be satisfied with a trifling sum, barely
equivalent to a fourth of what we pay to Venice.
"In spite of all this, I feel sure that if the Venetian Government wrote
to the Austrian Council of Commerce expressing their willingness to take
two per cent henceforth, the proposal would be accepted, for we Austrians
dislike novelties.
"I shall not lay the matter before the Town Council for four or five
days, as there is no hurry for us; but you had better make haste, that
you may be the first to inform your Government of the matter.
"If everything goes as I should wish I hope to receive an order from
Vienna suspending the decree just as I am about to make it public."
Next morning the governor was delighted to hear that everything had been
finished before midnight. He assured me that the consul should not have
official information before Saturday. In the meanwhile the consul's
uneasy state of mind was quite a trouble to me, for I could not do
anything to set his mind at ease.
Saturday came and Councillor Rizzi told me the news at the club. He
seemed in high spirits over it, and said that the loss of Venice was the
gain of Trieste. The consul came in just then, and said that the loss
would be a mere trifle for Venice, while the first-shipwreck would cost
more to Trieste than ten years' duty. The consul seemed to enjoy the
whole thing, but that was the part he had to play. In all small trading
towns like Trieste, people make a great account of trifles.
I went to dine with the consul, who privately confessed his doubts and
fears on the matter.
I asked him how the Venetians would parry the blow, and he replied,--
"They will have a number of very learned consultations, and then they
will do nothing at all, and the Austrians will send their goods wherever
they please."
"But the Government is such a wise one."
"Or rather has the reputation of wisdom."
"Then you think it lives on its reputation?"
"Yes; like all your mouldy institutions, they continue to be simply
because they have been. Old Governments are like those ancient dykes
which are rotten at the base, and only stay in position by their weight
and bulk."
The consul was in the right. He wrote to his chief the same day, and in
the course of the next week he heard that their excellencies had received
information of the matter some time ago by extraordinary channels.
For the present his duties would be confined to sending in any additional
information on the same subject.
"I told you so," said the consul; "now, what do you think of the wisdom
of our sages?"
"I think Bedlam of Charenton were their best lodging."
In three weeks the consul received orders to give me another grant of a
hundred ducats, and to allow me ten sequins a month, to encourage me to
deserve well of the State.
From that time I felt sure I should be allowed to return in the course of
the year, but I was mistaken, for I had to wait till the year following.
This new present, and the monthly payment of ten sequins put me at my
ease, for I had expensive tastes of which I could not cure myself. I felt
pleased at the thought that I was now in the pay of the Tribunal which
had punished me, and which I had defied. It seemed to me a triumph, and I
determined to do all in my power for the Republic.
Here I must relate an amusing incident, which delighted everyone in
Trieste.
It was in the beginning of summer. I had been eating sardines by the
sea-shore, and when I came home at ten o'clock at night I was astonished
to be greeted by a girl whom I recognized as Count Strasoldo's maid.
The count was a handsome young man, but poor like most of that name; he
was fond of expensive pleasures, and was consequently heavily in debt. He
had a small appointment which brought him in an income of six hundred
florins, and he had not the slightest difficulty in spending a year's pay
in three months. He had agreeable manners and a generous disposition, and
I had supped with him in company with Baron Pittoni several times. He had
a girl in his service who was exquisitely pretty, but none of the count's
friends attempted her as he was very jealous. Like the rest, I had seen
and admired her, I had congratulated the count on the possession of such
a treasure in her presence, but I had never addressed a word to her.
Strasoldo had just been summoned to Vienna by Count Auersperg who liked
him, and had promised to do what he could for him. He had got an
employment in Poland, his furniture had been sold, he had taken leave of
everyone, and nobody doubted that he would take his pretty maid with him.
I thought so too, for I had been to wish him a pleasant journey that
morning, and my astonishment at finding the girl in my room may be
imagined.
"What do you want, my dear?" I asked.
"Forgive me, sir, but I don't want to go with Strasoldo, and I thought
you would protect me. Nobody will be able to guess where I am, and
Strasoldo will be obliged to go by himself. You will not be so cruel as
to drive me away?"
"No, dearest."
"I promise you I will go away to-morrow, for Strasoldo is going to leave
at day-break."
"My lovely Leuzica (this was her name), no one would refuse you an
asylum, I least of all. You are safe here, and nobody shall come in
without your leave. I am only too happy that you came to me, but if it is
true that the count is your lover you may be sure he will not go so
easily. He will stay the whole of to-morrow at least, in the hope of
finding you again."
"No doubt he will look for me everywhere but here. Will you promise not
to make me go with him even if he guesses that I am with you?"
"I swear I will not."
"Then I am satisfied."
"But you will have to share my bed."
"If I shall not inconvenience you, I agree with all my heart."
"You shall see whether you inconvenience me or not. Undress, quick! But
where are your things?"
"All that I have is in a small trunk behind the count's carriage, but I
don't trouble myself about it."
"The poor count must be raging at this very moment."
"No, for he will not come home till midnight. He is supping with Madame
Bissolotti, who is in love with him."
In the meantime Leuzica had undressed and got into bed. In a moment I was
beside her, and after the severe regimen of the last eight months I spent
a delicious night in her arms, for of late my pleasures had been few.
Leuzica was a perfect beauty, and worthy to be a king's mistress; and if
I had been rich I would have set up a household that I might retain her
in my service.
We did not awake till seven o'clock. She got up, and on looking out of
the window saw Strasoldo's carriage waiting at the door.
I confronted her by saying that as long as she liked to stay with me no
one could force her away.
I was vexed that I had no closet in my room, as I could not hide her from
the waiter who would bring us coffee. We accordingly dispensed with
breakfast, but I had to find out some way of feeding her. I thought I had
plenty of time before me, but I was wrong.
At ten o'clock I saw Strasoldo and his friend Pittoni coming into the
inn. They spoke to the landlord, and seemed to be searching the whole
place, passing from one room to another.
I laughed, and told Leuzica that they were looking for her, and that our
turn would doubtless come before long.
"Remember your promise," said she.
"You may be sure of that."
The tone in which this remark was delivered comforted her, and she
exclaimed,--
"Well; well, let them come; they will get nothing by it."
I heard footsteps approaching, and went out, closing the door behind me,
and begging them to excuse my not asking them in, as there was a
contraband commodity in my room.
"Only tell me that it is not my maid," said Strasoldo, in a pitiable
voice. "We are sure she is here, as the sentinel at the gate saw her come
in at ten o'clock."
"You are right, the fair Leuzica is at this moment in my room. I have
given her my word of honour that no violence shall be used, and you may
be sure I shall keep my word."
"I shall certainly not attempt any violence, but I am sure she would come
of her own free will if I could speak to her."
"I will ask her if she wishes to see you. Wait a moment."
Leuzica had been listening to our conversation, and when I opened the
door she told me that I could let them in.
As soon as Strasoldo appeared she asked him proudly if she was under any
obligations to him, if she had stolen anything from him, and if she was
not perfectly free to leave him when she liked.
The poor count replied mildly that on the contrary it was he who owed her
a year's wages and had her box in his possession, but that she should not
have left him without giving any reason.
"The only reason is that I don't want to go to Vienna," she replied. "I
told you so a week ago. If you are an honest man you will leave me my
trunk, and as to my wages you can send them to me at my aunt's at Laibach
if you haven't got any money now."
I pitied Strasoldo from the bottom of my heart; he prayed and entreated,
and finally wept like a child. However, Pittoni roused my choler by
saying that I ought to drive the slut out of my room.
"You are not the man to tell me what I ought and what I ought not to do,"
I replied, "and after I have received her in my apartments you ought to
moderate your expressions."
Seeing that I stood on my dignity he laughed, and asked me if I had
fallen in love with her in so short a time.
Strasoldo here broke in by saying he was sure she had not slept with me.
"That's where you are mistaken," said she, "for there's only one bed, and
I did not sleep on the floor."
They found prayers and reproaches alike useless and left us at noon.
Leuzica was profuse in her expressions of gratitude to me.
There was no longer any mystery, so I boldly ordered dinner for two, and
promised that she should remain with me till the count had left Trieste.
At three o'clock the Venetian consul came, saying that Count Strasoldo
had begged him to use his good offices with me to persuade me to deliver
up the fair Leuzica.
"You must speak to the girl herself," I replied; "she came here and stays
here of her own free will."
When the worthy man had heard the girl's story he went away, saying that
we had the right on our side.
In the evening a porter brought her trunk, and at this she seemed touched
but not repentant.
Leuzica supped with me and again shared my couch. The count left Trieste
at day-break.
As soon as I was sure that he was gone, I took a carriage and escorted
the fair Leuzica two stages on her way to Laibach. We dined together, and
I left her in the care of a friend of hers.
Everybody said I had acted properly, and even Pittoni confessed that in
my place he would have done the same.
Poor Strasoldo came to a bad end. He got into debt, committed peculation,
and had to escape into Turkey and embrace Islam to avoid the penalty of
death.
About this time the Venetian general, Palmanova, accompanied by the
procurator Erizzo, came to Trieste to visit the governor, Count
Wagensberg. In the afternoon the count presented me to the patricians who
seemed astonished to see me at Trieste.
The procurator asked me if I amused myself as well as I had done at Paris
sixteen years ago, and I told him that sixteen years more, and a hundred
thousand francs less, forced me to live in a different fashion. While we
were talking, the consul came in to announce that the felucca was ready.
Madame de Lantieri as well as her father pressed me to join the party.
I gave a bow, which might mean either no or yes, and asked the consul
what the party was. He told me that they were going to see a Venetian
man-of-war at anchor in the harbor; his excellence there being the
captain I immediately turned to the countess and smilingly professed my
regret that I was unable to set foot on Venetian soil.
Everybody exclaimed at me,--
"You have nothing to fear. You are with honest people. Your suspicion is
quite offensive."
"That is all very fine, ladies and gentlemen, and I will come with all my
heart, if your excellences will assure me that my joining this little
party will not be known to the State Inquisitors possibly by to-morrow."
This was enough. Everybody looked at me in silence, and no objections
could be found to my argument.
The captain of the vessel, who did not know me, spoke a few whispered
words to the others, and then they left.
The next day the consul told me that the captain had praised my prudence
in declining to go on board, as if anyone had chanced to tell him my name
and my case whilst I was on his ship, it would have been his duty to
detain me.
When I told the governor of this remark he replied gravely that he should
not have allowed the ship to leave the harbour.
I saw the procurator Erizzo the same evening, and he congratulated me on
my discretion, telling me he would take care to let the Tribunal know how
I respected its decisions.
About this time I had the pleasure of seeing a beautiful Venetian, who
visited Trieste with several of her admirers. She was of the noble family
of Bon, and had married Count Romili de Bergamo, who left her free to do
whatever she liked. She drew behind her triumphal chariot an old general,
Count Bourghausen, a famous rake who had deserted Mars for the past ten
years in order to devote his remaining days to the service of Venus. He
was a delightful man, and we became friends. Ten years later he was of
service to me, as my readers will find in the next volume, which may
perhaps be the last.