Produced by David Widger
MEMOIRS OF JACQUES CASANOVA de SEINGALT 1725-1798
SPANISH PASSIONS, Volume 6e—OLD AGE AND DEATH
Whether the author died before the work was complete, whether theconcluding volumes were destroyed by himself or his literary executors,or whether the MS. fell into bad hands, seems a matter of uncertainty,and the materials available towards a continuation of the Memoirs areextremely fragmentary. We know, however, that Casanova at last succeededin obtaining his pardon from the authorities of the Republic, and hereturned to Venice, where he exercised the honourable office of secretagent of the State Inquisitors—in plain language, he became a spy. Itseems that the Knight of the Golden Spur made a rather indifferent"agent;" not surely, as a French writer suggests, because the dirty workwas too dirty for his fingers, but probably because he was getting oldand stupid and out-of-date, and failed to keep in touch with new forms ofturpitude. He left Venice again and paid a visit to Vienna, saw belovedParis once more, and there met Count Wallenstein, or Waldstein. Theconversation turned on magic and the occult sciences, in, which Casanovawas an adept, as the reader of the Memoirs will remember, and the counttook a fancy to the charlatan. In short Casanova became librarian at thecount's Castle of Dux, near Teplitz, and there he spent the fourteenremaining years of his life.
As the Prince de Ligne (from whose Memoirs we learn these particulars)remarks, Casanova's life had been a stormy and adventurous one, and itmight have been expected that he would have found his patron's library apleasant refuge after so many toils and travels. But the man carriedrough weather and storm in his own heart, and found daily opportunitiesof mortification and resentment. The coffee was ill made, the maccaroninot cooked in the true Italian style, the dogs had bayed during thenight, he had been made to dine at a small table, the parish priest hadtried to convert him, the soup had been served too hot on purpose toannoy him, he had not been introduced to a distinguished guest, the counthad lent a book without telling him, a groom had not taken off his hat;such were his complaints. The fact is Casanova felt his dependentposition and his utter poverty, and was all the more determined to standto his dignity as a man who had talked with all the crowned heads ofEurope, and had fought a duel with the Polish general. And he had anotherreason for finding life bitter—he had lived beyond his time. Louis XV.was dead, and Louis XVI. had been guillotined; the Revolution had come;and Casanova, his dress, and his manners, appeared as odd and antique assome "blood of the Regency" would appear to us of these days. Sixty yearsbefore, Marcel, the famous dancing-master, had taught young Casanova howto enter a room with a lowly and ceremonious bow; and still, though theeighteenth century is drawing to a close, old Casanova enters the roomsof Dux with the same stately bow, but now everyone laughs. Old Casanovatreads the grave measures of the minuet; they applauded his dancing once,but now everyone laughs. Young Casanova was always dressed in the heightof the fashion; but the age of powder, wigs, velvets, and silks hasdeparted, and old Casanova's attempts at elegance ("Strass" diamonds havereplaced the genuine stones with him) are likewise greeted with laughter.No wonder the old adventurer de