And I remained there standing, uneasy, keeping my eyes on the ground, not even striving to conceal my mortification, which was, after all, very natural in such a position. I dreaded looking at Madame F----, for I knew that she could easily guess all my feelings. An instant after, her foolish husband coldly remarked that I should certainly have a more fatiguing service with him than with M. D---- R----, and that, of course, it was more honourable to serve the general governor of the galeazze than a ****** sopra-committo. I was on the point of answering, when Madame F---- said, in a graceful and easy manner, "M. Casanova is right," and she changed the subject. I left the room, revolving in my mind all that had just taken place.
My conclusion was that M. F---- had asked M. D---- R---- to let me go with him at the suggestion of his wife, or, at least with her consent, and it was highly flattering to my love and to my vanity.
But I was bound in honour not to accept the post, unless I had a perfect assurance that it would not be disagreeable to my present patron. "I will accept," I said to myself, "if M. D---- R----- tells me positively that I shall please him by doing so. It is for M. F to make him say it."
On the same night I had the honour of offering my arm to Madame F---
during the procession which takes place in commemoration of the death of our Lord and Saviour, which was then attended on foot by all the nobility. I expected she would mention the matter, but she did not.
My love was in despair, and through the night I could not close my eyes. I feared she had been offended by my refusal, and was overwhelmed with grief. I passed the whole of the next day without breaking my fast, and did not utter a single word during the evening reception. I felt very unwell, and I had an attack of fever which kept me in bed on Easter Sunday. I was very weak on the Monday, and intended to remain in my room, when a messenger from Madame F----
came to inform me that she wished to see me. I told the messenger not to say that he had found me in bed, and dressing myself rapidly I
hurried to her house. I entered her room, pale, looking very ill:
yet she did not enquire after my health, and kept silent a minute or two, as if she had been trying to recollect what she had to say to me.
"Ah! yes, you are aware that our adjutant is dead, and that we want to replace him. My husband, who has a great esteem for you, and feels that M. D---- R----- leaves you perfectly free to make your choice, has taken the singular fancy that you will come, if I ask you myself to do us that pleasure. Is he mistaken? If you would come to us, you would have that room."
She was pointing to a room adjoining the chamber in which she slept, and so situated that, to see her in every part of her room, I should not even require to place myself at the window.
"M. D---- R----- ," she continued, "will not love you less, and as he will see you here every, day, he will not be likely to forget his interest in your welfare. Now, tell me, will you come or not?"
"I wish I could, madam, but indeed I cannot."
"You cannot? That is singular. Take a seat, and tell me what there is to prevent you, when, in accepting my offer, you are sure to please M. D---- R----- as well as us."
"If I were certain of it, I would accept immediately; but all I have heard from his lips was that he left me free to make a choice."
"Then you are afraid to grieve him, if you come to us ?"
"It might be, and for nothing on earth...."
"I am certain of the contrary."
"Will you be so good as to obtain that he says so to me himself?"
"And then you will come?"
"Oh, madam! that very minute!"
But the warmth of my exclamation might mean a great deal, and I
turned my head round so as not to embarrass her. She asked me to give her her mantle to go to church, and we went out. As we were going down the stairs, she placed her ungloved hand upon mine. It was the first time that she had granted me such a favour, and it seemed to me a good omen. She took off her hand, asking me whether I
was feverish. "Your hand," she said, "is burning."
When we left the church, M. D---- R-----'s carriage happened to pass, and I assisted her to get in, and as soon as she had gone, hurried to my room in order to breathe freely and to enjoy all the felicity which filled my soul; for I no longer doubted her love for me, and I
knew that, in this case, M. D---- R----- was not likely to refuse her anything.
What is love? I have read plenty of ancient verbiage on that subject, I have read likewise most of what has been said by modern writers, but neither all that has been said, nor what I have thought about it, when I was young and now that I am no longer so, nothing, in fact, can make me agree that love is a trifling vanity. It is a sort of madness, I grant that, but a madness over which philosophy is entirely powerless; it is a disease to which man is exposed at all times, no matter at what age, and which cannot be cured, if he is attacked by it in his old age. Love being sentiment which cannot be explained! God of all nature!--bitter and sweet feeling! Love!--
charming monster which cannot be fathomed! God who, in the midst of all the thorns with which thou plaguest us, strewest so many roses on our path that, without thee, existence and death would be united and blended together!
Two days afterwards, M. D---- R-----, told me to go and take orders from M. F---- on board his galley, which was ready for a five or six days' voyage. I quickly packed a few things, and called for my new patron who received me with great joy. We took our departure without seeing madam, who was not yet visible. We returned on the sixth day, and I went to establish myself in my new home, for, as I was preparing to go to M. D---- R-----, to take his orders, after our landing, he came himself, and after asking M. F---- and me whether we were pleased with each other, he said to me, "Casanova, as you suit each other so well, you may be certain that you will greatly please me by remaining in the service of M. F."
