“‘Casanova, make no outcry;
You stole, indeed, as well as I;
You were the one who first taught me;
Your art I mastered thoroughly.
Silence your wisest course will be.’
“These verses had the desired effect. After a brief silence, Casanova laughed and then said softly in my ear: ‘The rogue is right.’ He went into the cafe and motioned to Costa to come out; they began to walk together calmly, as if nothing had happened, and they parted shaking hands repeatedly and seemingly calm and friendly. Casanova returned to me with a cameo on his little finger, which by a strange coincidence, represented Mercury, the god-protector of thieves. This was his greatest valuable, and it was all that was left of the immense booty, but represented the character of the two restored friends, perfectly.”
Da Ponte precedes this account with a libellous narrative of Casanova’s relations with the Marquise d’Urfe, even stating that Casanova stole from her the jewels stolen in turn by Costa, but, as M. Maynial remarks, we may attribute this perverted account “solely to the rancour and antipathy of the narrator.” It is more likely that Casanova frightened Costa almost out of his wits, was grimly amused at his misfortunes, and let him go, since there was no remedy to Casanova’s benefit, for his former rascality. Casanova’s own brief, anticipatory account is given in his Memoirs.
In 1797, correcting and revising his Memoirs, Casanova wrote: “Twelve years ago, if it had not been for my guardian angel, I would have foolishly married, at Vienna, a young, thoughtless girl, with whom I had fallen in love.” In which connection, his remark is interesting: “I have loved women even to madness, but I have always loved liberty better; and whenever I have been in danger of losing it, fate has come to my rescue.”
While an identification of the “young, thoughtless girl” has been impossible, M. Rava believes her to be “C. M.,” the subject of a poem found at Dux, written in duplicate, in Italian and French, and headed “Giacomo Casanova, in love, to C. M.”
“When, Catton, to your sight is shown the love Which all my tenderest caresses prove, Feeling all pleasure’s sharpest joys and fears, Burning one moment, shivering the next, Caressing you while showering you with tears, Giving each charm a thousand eager kisses, Wishing to touch at once a thousand blisses And, at the ones beyond my power, vexed, Abandoned in a furious desire, Leaving these charms for other charms that fire, Possessing all and yet desiring Until, destroyed by excesses of pleasure, Finding no words of love nor anything To express my fires overflowing measure Than deepening sighs and obscure murmuring: Ah! Then you think to read my inmost heart To find the love that can these signs impart ....Be not deceived. These transports, amorous cries, These kisses, tears, desires and heavy sighs, Of all the fire which devours me Could less than even the lightest tokens be.”
Evidently this same girl is the authoress of the two following letters written by “Caton M . . . .” to Casanova in 1786.
12th April 1786. “You will infinitely oblige me if you will tell me to whom you wrote such pretty things about me; apparently it is the Abbé Da Ponte; but I would go to his house and, either he would prove that you had written it or I would have the honor of telling him that he is the most infamous traducer in the world. I think that the lovely picture which you make of my future has not as much excuse as you may think, and, in spite of your science, you deceive yourself.... But just now I will inform you of all my wooers and you can judge for yourself by this whether I deserve all the reproaches you made me in your last letter. It is two years since I came to know the Count de K . . . ; I could have loved him but I was too honest to be willing to satisfy his desires . . . . Some months afterward, I came to know the Count de M . . . ; he was not so handsome as K . . . , but he possessed every possible art for seducing a girl; I did everything for him, but I never loved him as much as his friend. In fine, to tell you all my giddinesses in a few words, I set everything right again with K . . . . and got myself into a quarrel with M . . . ., then I left K. . . . and returned to M . . . ., but at the house of the latter there was always an officer who pleased me more than both the two others and who sometimes conducted me to the house; then we found ourselves at the house of a friend, and it is of this same officer that I am ill. So, my dear friend, that is all. I do not seek to justify my past conduct; on the contrary, I know well that I have acted badly.... I am much afflicted at being the cause of your remaining away from Venice during the Carnival . . . . I hope to see you soon again and am, with much love,
“Monsieur, your sincere
“Caton M. . . .”