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    The Story of My Life (The Complete Memoirs of Giacomo Casanova, Volume 10 of 12)
    The Story of My Life (The Complete Memoirs of Giacomo Casanova, Volume 10 of 12)
    The Story of My Life (The Complete Memoirs of Giacomo Casanova, Volume 10 of 12)
    Ebook326 pages9 hours

    The Story of My Life (The Complete Memoirs of Giacomo Casanova, Volume 10 of 12)

    By Giacomo Casanova

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    A Venetian adventurer, author, and lifelong womanizer, the name of Casanova has become interchangeable with the art of seduction since the 18th century. In his most notable book, "Story of My Life," Casanova narrates countless tales of the people with whom he interacted: lovers, European royalty, clergymen, and artists such as Goethe, Voltaire, and Mozart. His writing demonstrates his talent for dialogue, while his life seems an inadvertent testament to skill in plot development. Casanova gambled, spied, translated, dueled, schemed, traveled, and observed people of all levels of society, having been born of two actors and becoming a self-made gentleman. He writes of his life without regret, recalling his adventures, from necromancy to imprisonment, with general honesty and the occasional embellishment, and always with a good humor. In this remarkable celebration of the senses, Casanova proves his talent for storytelling by revealing a refreshingly authentic view of the customs and everyday life of social 18th century Europeans, ultimately proving his claim that "I can say I have lived." In this edition you will find the tenth of twelve volumes of "The Complete Memoirs."
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherDigireads.com Publishing
    Release dateJan 1, 2011
    ISBN9781420939453
    The Story of My Life (The Complete Memoirs of Giacomo Casanova, Volume 10 of 12)
    Author

    Giacomo Casanova

    Giacomo Casanova (1725-1798) was an Italian adventurer and author. Born in Venice, Casanova was the eldest of six siblings born to Gaetano Casanova and Zanetta Farussi, an actor and actress. Raised in a city noted for its cosmopolitanism, night life, and glamor, Casanova overcame a sickly childhood to excel in school, entering the University of Padua at the age of 12. After graduating in 1742 with a degree in law, he struggled to balance his work as a lawyer and low-level cleric with a growing gambling addiction. As scandals and a prison sentence threatened to derail his career in the church, Casanova managed to find work as a scribe for a powerful Cardinal in Rome, but was soon dismissed and entered military service for the Republic of Venice. Over the next several years, he left the service, succeeded as a professional gambler, and embarked on a Grand Tour of Europe. Towards the end of his life, Casanova worked on his exhaustive, scandalous memoirs, a 12-volume autobiography reflecting on a legendary life of romance and debauchery that brought him from the heights of aristocratic society to the lows of illness and imprisonment. Recognized for his self-styled sensationalism as much as he is for his detailed chronicling of 18th century European culture, Casanova is a man whose name is now synonymous with the kind of life he led—fast, fearless, and free.

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    Reviews for The Story of My Life (The Complete Memoirs of Giacomo Casanova, Volume 10 of 12)

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    • 5/5
      I wish I had read this sooner. What I remember of what I was taught about Keller was never from her perspective. It was how she was so difficult and generally lived a secluded life. But when she tells her own story, it is with such persistent and unapologetic optimism. I found her struggle with knowing what ideas were her own fascinating. If all you have is the description provided from others, it must be profoundly challenging to form original thoughts in certain areas. That resonated with me and struck me. Not only is Keller an example of a person with disabilities defying stereotypes, but she even has the nerve to do so with joy! *jawdrop* Keller found such pure beauty and eloquently expressed her appreciation for what she was grateful for. She is a person I know I admire, and I would put this short read on a required reading list for sure!
    • 4/5
      I became interested in reading Helen Keller's autobiography after seeing the original movie "The Miracle Worker", now one of my favourites. I was a bit sorry when all of that was dispensed with in the first four chapters, and discovered that Miss Keller's account hardly matches the movie version. I chalked up the difference to Hollywood invention - a bit disappointing. Helen relates her story up to her college years and is fairly lacklustre as far as biographies go. Mostly it's devoted to discoveries about the things she most grew to love. Highlights include famous people she met (Mark Twain being my favourite), and her surprising daring at trying things I wouldn't have expected - riding a bicycle and rowing a boat alone, for example.She was very descriptive throughout, almost poetic, which greatly impressed me. Then in Chapter Fourteen comes the poem she wrote and was accused of plagiarizing. She gives a convincing account of how this must have occurred subconsciously, and what a setback it was to suspect every thought she had as not being her own. It also cast my reading in a different light: how much of the descriptive detail I'd been admiring had she simply echoed? It earned my sympathy to read about this circumstance in which she could no longer trust her own imagination. Fortunately she found the confidence to pursue her dream of a college education, which is where her biography (written in her early twenties) draws to a close. While I admired her bravery, it wasn't a standout biography for me. Before I set it aside, I saw there were substantial appendices so I gave those a peek. The first was a collection of letters. While the content was fairly dull, it was remarkable how quickly she progressed in vocabulary and grammar. In the space of two years she went from discovering words to writing age-appropriate letters to her friends and family. After those, I discovered the real treasure: a retelling of her biography from the perspective of her teacher, Anne Sullivan. Its preface explains that Helen Keller had little memory of her life prior to being educated, nor could she convey an outside perspective of what her education had entailed. Miss Sullivan's account is an almost scene-for-scene description of what occurs in the movie - surprise! Then it goes well beyond that, relating Miss Keller's remarkable development from her teacher's viewpoint. This was the biography I'd imagined reading in the first place. I was hooked.I'm tempted to recommend others go straight to Anne Sullivan's account. But in hindsight I can say it's worth your time to read both sides (internal and external) for the full picture of this remarkable woman's experience in being awakened to the wonders of life and language.
    • 2/5
      The Story of My Life by Helen Keller is told in four parts: first Helen's own account, then Anne Sullivan's account, their assistant John Macy's account, and finally a collection of Helen's letters over time and and appendix of further accounts previously referenced in the book. The only part I enjoyed was Anne Sullivan's section, which consists of letters she wrote detailing her teaching efforts. Helen's section was well written and she's clearly very nice, but it just didn't contain much that was interesting about how she felt. Everyone is sweet, delightful, wonderful. Macy didn't have anything to add that hadn't been said in the first half of the book, and the fairly lengthy section of Helen's letters added nothing to the book at all except a glimpse at how her language skills progressed, which again had already been said. All in all, I was pretty disappointed and wouldn't recommend this particular book.
    • 3/5
      I remember reading this 10 years ago, such is the lasting impression of some people. The book was not easy to get into but this is such an awe-inspiring biography, an absolute miracle worker.
    • 4/5
      this autobiography of Helen Keller is of interest, and some of the extra mateial in this book is of interest, but there are a lot of boring letters by Helen Keller which taxed my patience and added nothing of interest. The actual story of how she came to learn and actuaally graduated from Radcliffe is of interest and worth reading.
    • 5/5
      At first I thought I was going to be disappointed, which surprised me, because I love every Helen Keller quote I come across. But the beginning paragraphs are of the typical, what I call "Genesis" kind. My father was so-and-so, my mother was so-and-so, I'm related to blah, blah and blah etc. And the narrator's voice can be a bit grating. But the language very quickly changed and the narrator's voice became more comfortable with familiarity.Helen Keller has possibly the most joyous and vividly beautiful approach to language that I have yet encountered. She was clearly a natural at PR from an early age; her affectionate, naïve and idealistic enthusiasm for "good works" brought tears to my eyes. I felt very chastened by the end. Despite regular references to her deprivations (perhaps a fraction overstressed), she retains a lilting and joyous outlook throughout. It made me realise the value of choosing to abstain from noxious literature; she is so filled with beauty that it is beauty she chooses to express in everything, including the letters which accompany the main book. This book is cause for serious moral reflection in the best possible way.
    • 5/5
      Amazing, Incredible, Wonderful, Brilliant... There aren't enough superlatives to describe Helen Keller. It boggles my mind how fully she was able to live life and the people she met. Ann Sullivan must have been the greatest, most loving teacher ever! It has always fascinated me that she could learn so much and be able to enjoy such a full life, both deaf and blind. It is difficult to believe that the descriptions and knowledge imparted by her in this book are from a deaf, blind person. Most sighted, hearing people don't live life to the fullest. Her example is inspiring and humbling. This edition has a reiteration of each chapter (not necessary) and pertinent questions.
    • 4/5
      A wonderful book about a brilliant, loving young woman who just happened to be blind and deaf. When Helen was 19, she penned the following words in a letter: "The thought that my dear Heavenly Father is always near, giving me abundantly of all those things, which truly enrich life and make it sweet and beautiful, makes every deprivation seem of little moment compared with the countless blessings I enjoy."Anne Sullivan, her famous tutor, taught Helen at age 11 that "the best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen nor even touched, but just felt in the heart."
    • 1/5
      This was incredibly disappointing...more like a text book than a memoir.
    • 5/5
      This "restored" edition has been reedited by Roger Shattuck to reflect more accurately its original compostiion, presenting Helen Keller's story in three successive accounts: Helen's own version; the letters of "teacher" Anne s"ullivan, shubmerged in the original; and thevaluable documentation frunished by their young assistant, John Marcy.Helen Keller was born in Tuscumbia, Alabama, in 1880. Before her second birhtday, a mysterious illness left her deaf and blind. She graduated with honors from Radcliffe College in 1904, on year fafter the initial publication of The Story Of My Life, and wa the author of thriteen books. She died in 1968. Roger Shattuck, author of Forbidden Knowledge and The Banquet Years, won the National Book Award for a work abot Marcel Proust. University Professor Emeritus at Boston University, Shattuck lives in Vermont. Dorothy Herrmann is the author of Helen Keller: A Life and of three other biographies. She lives in New Hope, Pennsylvania, and New York City.Jacket Design by Eleen Cheung Jacket Photograph by Library of Congress Printed in USA
    • 3/5
      Not a great book, but one that can definitely convice a person that they have things pretty easy. Her struggle enables us to appreciate much of what we take for granted. This is definitely an inspirational book.
    • 4/5
      An amazing autobiography by Helen Keller. An illness makes her both deaf and blind as a little child. With the help of an untiring and patient teacher she learns how to communicate with the outer world through sign language signed into her hand, and later she learns to read and even reaches the university.What struck me most was the joyous spirit she possesses. Her wonder and appreciation of nature, friends, art, litterature and just the exitement of the everyday events like smelling a flower or touching a dog. She enjoys going to the museum and let her hand grace the sculptures: I sometimes wonder if the hand is not more sensitive to the beauties of sculpture than the eye. I should think the wonderful rhythmical flow of lines and curves could be more subtly felt than seen. Be this as it may, I know that I can feel the heartthrobs of the ancient Greeks in their marble gods and goddesses.I found her determination and joy in the everyday life very refreshing and inspiring, despite of her limitations and sorrow. Is it not true, then, that my life with all its limitations touches at many points the life of the World Beautiful? Everything has its wonders, even darkness and silence, and I learn, whatever state I may be in, therein to be content. Sometimes, it is true, a sense of isolation enfolds me like a cold mist as I sit alone and wait at life’s shut gate. Beyond there is light, and music, and sweet companionship; but I may not enter. Fate, silent, pitiless, bars the way…. Silence sits immense upon my soul. Then comes hope with a gentle smile and whispers, “There is joy in selfforgetfulness”. So I try to make the light in others’ eyes my sun, the music in others’ ears my symphony, the smile on others’ lips my happiness.
    • 4/5
      Where I got the book: purchased from Amazon. A Book Wizards book club read.This was one of those books I managed to miss reading during my childhood years—I wonder what impression it would have made on me then? It is, of course, Helen Keller’s own story about how her teacher Annie Sullivan helped her escape the dark and silent world an early illness had thrust her into by teaching the deaf and blind girl to communicate via touch and, eventually, speech.I found many aspects of Helen’s story fascinating, although I wasn’t entirely sure I would have liked Helen had I met her. She admits to being a tyrant in her early years—to bullying the little black girl who was assigned to serve her and to venting her frustration on all those around her—and I suspect that the amount of attention she received as she grew up probably left its mark, despite the sugary-sweet language she uses in the style of her era. In an age where disability is seen as no bar to being out in the community, to employment and to acceptance, it’s hard to imagine how limited Helen’s prospects must have seemed when she was a child—and that was an aspect of things much discussed by the Book Wizards, who are all themselves cognitively disabled. And yet, then as now, the solution was money—Helen’s parents had the resources to employ a full-time, live-in teacher and this, combined with Helen’s high level of intelligence, determination and the gift of study, ensured that she was able to live up to her full potential. Teachers of the twenty-first century might note that Helen became proficient in several languages, both ancient and modern—how much we’ve lost!The edition I’m reviewing (the “Restored Edition” from Modern Library) is an excellent one, with plenty of photos (it’s amazing how many celebrities of the day Helen met, another indication of her privileged life) and supplemental materials such as letters and a piece written by Annie Sullivan. I didn’t get round to reading them, but I’m hoping to at some point.
    • 2/5
      Hat mich schon länger interessiert, ich hab allerdings nur den Autobio-Teil gelesen, (noch) nicht die Briefe. Etwas sehr klischeebeladen, aber doch beeindruckend, was diese sehr begabte und ambitionierte Frau (die mit knapp zwei Jahren Gehör und Augenlicht verloren hat) geschafft hat.
    • 4/5
      Summary: Helen is both blind and deaf, it seems all hope is lost-enter Anne Sullivan the miracle worker. With persistence and love little Helen learns not only how to survive but how to thrive.Summary: "Everything has it's wonders, even darkness and silence , and I learn, whatever state I may be in, therein to be content."
    • 5/5
      Written when Helen Keller was 22, "The Story of My Life" is about her life as a child and young lady. She was not born blind and deaf, but as a toddler suffered an illness that almost killed her and robbed her of her sight and hearing. Helen was seemingly unteachable and growing wilder each day until Helen's parents hired Anne Sullivan who was to become her beloved "Teacher". Helen became a proficient student, learning not only to read and write and speak, but also learning several languages eventually graduating from Radcliffe College. This is an extraordinary book about an extraordinary woman. The book is divided into two parts: Keller's autobiography and her letters. Her autobiography is written a bit flowery, but is interesting as she describes her early years and how she tried to communicate with people and her increasing frustration when they couldn't understand her. She writes about how Anne Sullivan finally got her to understand the word for "water" and how she quickly learned other words after that breakthrough. She tackles what was a very painful time in her young life when she was accused of plagiarizing a story when she was only 11 years old. She ends her autobiography by describing the things she loves in life: reading (books that she loves and her favorite authors), history, languages, the outdoors, sailing and visiting friends. As interesting as Keller's autobiography is, her letters reveal even more about her life. Printed in chronological order, starting when Helen was just 7 years old, the letters show how quickly her grammar and writing skills developed. In the autobiographical section of the book, it is easy to forget that Keller was deaf and blind as she writes about talking to people and things that she's seen. Her letters explain better how people communicated with her and even the toll it took on Anne Sullivan, who had continuous problems with her eyes. Her letters explain how she wrote letters using a special board and a regular pencil and how she was able to read people's lips and feel things in a museum to get an appreciation of art. Very interesting reading. My only complaint about this wonderful book is the editing. The book was first published in 1903 and has been in print ever since, but I wonder when it was last edited. There are notations that a footnote will follow but there is no footnote. There are mentions of people who were well known in Helen's time, but today's readers might not know how they were and footnotes should have been used to explain who they were, starting with Laura Bridgman who apparently was the inspiration for much of the education the young Helen got. Also, Helen raised money for the education of a blind and deaf boy, but there was no mention of what happened to him later in life. Editing aside, this is a wonderful, inspirational book and I highly recommend it.
    • 3/5
      I have mixed feelings about this (audio)book. For writing style, I'd give it 2 stars, OK, but for the content of Helen Keller's life--amazing! In fact, I doubt that the formal writing style did Keller's life and accomplishments full justice. So, I'm giving the book 3 stars as an average, but am much more impressed by Keller, herself!
    • 4/5
      This book is about the life of Helen Keller. The book starts when Helen is a child. Helen describes herself as stubborn and angry. She lived in a world of dark for a few years of her life. Helen talks about the years before and after Annie Sullivan, her teacher arrive. The story continues to show how Helen and Annie worked together to accomplish the many learning skills that Helen learned. This book is inspirational and a great book to show to children that may or may not have disabilities.
    • 4/5
      Earlier this year, Andrew was heading to pick up Jefferson in Chicago, and wanted a book to entertain him in the car on the way home. I handed him a children's biography of Helen Heller that I had loved as a child. Evidently Jefferson loved it, too. So for our Christmas road-trip I was sure to include a biography of her teacher, Anne Sullivan, also from my childhood, in my bag of tricks. These things, combined with coming across references to Helen Keller as a progressive icon in her adult life, made me grab this memoir for my stack of prospective New Year's Eve reads.

      As it turns out, Keller wrote this autobiography at the age of 22, so it didn't get me any closer to understanding her activism in later life. But this slim book is still remarkable for the joy in life that leaks through the print, and then conversely her intensely introspective self-criticism for limitations that I feel NEARLY EVER OTHER HUMAN BEING HAD AT HER AGE.

      I am happy to have read it and will be glad to share it with Jefferson, but I think I'll wait a few years, so the descriptions of her prep school and college studies will be more relatable.
    • 4/5
      This is an interesting look at Ms. Keller's young life - learning to communicate in a world where her blindness and deafness isolate her from just about everyone at first. Some of the passages don't seem as if they could be written by someone who was blind and deaf. Her descriptions of nature - particularly the sounds - seem improbable. Perhaps this was a result of her education - the ability to describe things for others that she didn't actually have firsthand experience with but only experience from Ms. Sullivan's descriptions. I certainly admire Ms. Keller's persistence and her keen mind. How many seeing and hearing people today master four languages by the time they have entered college??
    • 4/5
      It took me a few months to read all 6 volumes, but it was well worth it. I really like Casanova's style of writing and his sense of humor.These books really give you some insight in Europe in the 18th century. The man lived to be 73, so he's seen plenty! He also traveled a lot, he was, after all, banned from Venice for quite some years.What really got me is that compared to today, the people then seemed quite free and modern man quite narrow-minded.For example: it was very normal for a woman to have a lover. Especially if this lover had a higher status than her husband this could turn out very beneficial. The husband actually benefited from his wife's lover! Unimaginable today.The justice 'system' then is incomparable with what we have today. Sometimes I was quite perplexed by some of the 'solutions' and sometimes they (almost?) made sense.And Mr. Casanova himself? I think he rather liked himself, but he was quite pompous and arrogant. Still, a very good read.
    • 4/5
      Four stars for the rarity of this book and illustrations in it by Minelli.
    • 3/5
      Genre van de schelmenroman: zeer volatiel zowel in de ruimte (voortdurend rondtrekkend en van de ene situatie in de andere belandend) als in de fortuin.Zeer eerlijk uitkomend voor eigen ingesteldheid: slaaf van zijn hartstocht, gedreven van de ene verovering naar de andere en voortdurend falend. Geen gewetenswroeging over ettelijke verbroken beloften (geweten wel geregeld gesust door ?gunstige? regeling voor het slachtoffer). Van de andere kant verwacht Casanova wel trouw van zijn tegenpartij.Intussen beeld van zeer libertijnse maatschappij in XVIII? (met bijna vanzelfsprekende en nauwelijks aanstootgevende hypocrisie), met fraaie doorkijkjes naar de verschillende europese hoven.Zeer vermakelijk
    • 3/5
      Genre van de schelmenroman: zeer volatiel zowel in de ruimte (voortdurend rondtrekkend en van de ene situatie in de andere belandend) als in de fortuin.Zeer eerlijk uitkomend voor eigen ingesteldheid: slaaf van zijn hartstocht, gedreven van de ene verovering naar de andere en voortdurend falend. Geen gewetenswroeging over ettelijke verbroken beloften (geweten wel geregeld gesust door “gunstige” regeling voor het slachtoffer). Van de andere kant verwacht Casanova wel trouw van zijn tegenpartij.Intussen beeld van zeer libertijnse maatschappij in XVIII² (met bijna vanzelfsprekende en nauwelijks aanstootgevende hypocrisie), met fraaie doorkijkjes naar de verschillende europese hoven.Zeer vermakelijk

    Book preview

    The Story of My Life (The Complete Memoirs of Giacomo Casanova, Volume 10 of 12) - Giacomo Casanova

    THE STORY OF MY LIFE

    (THE COMPLETE MEMOIRS OF GIACOMO CASANOVA)

    (VOLUME 10 OF 12)

    TRANSLATED BY ARTHUR MACHEN

    A Digireads.com Book

    Digireads.com Publishing

    Print ISBN 13: 978-1-4209-3794-7

    Ebook ISBN 13: 978-1-4209-3945-3

    This edition copyright © 2012

    Please visit www.digireads.com

    CONTENTS

    CHAPTER I. Goudar's Chair.

    CHAPTER II. The End of the Story Stranger than the Beginning.

    CHAPTER III. Bottarelli; A Letter from Pauline; The Avenging Parrot; Pocchini; Guerra, the Venetian I meet Sara again — my idea of marrying her and settling in Switzerland; The Hanoverians.

    CHAPTER IV. The Hanoverians.

    CHAPTER V. Augusta becomes Lord Pembroke's Titular Mistress; The King of Corsica's Son; M. du Claude, or the Jesuit Lavalette; Departure of the Hanoverians; I balance my Accounts; The Baron Stenau; The English Girl, and what She gave Me; Daturi; My Flight from London; Comte St. Germain; Wesel.

    CHAPTER VI. My Cure; Daturi is Beaten by some Soldiers; I Leave Wesel for Brunswick; Redegonde; Brunswick; The Hereditary Prince; The Jew; My Stay at Wolfenbuttel; The Library; Berlin; Calsabigi and the Berlin Lottery; Mdlle. Bélanger.

    CHAPTER VII. Lord Keith; My Appointment to meet the King in the Garden of Sans-Souci; My Conversation with Frederick the Great; Madame Denis; The Pomeranian Cadets; Lambert; I Go to Mitau; My Welcome at the Court, and My Administrative Journey.

    CHAPTER VIII. My Stay at Riga; Campioni St. Héleine; D'Aragon; Arrival of the Empress; I Leave Riga and go to St. Petersburg; I see Society; I buy Zaira.

    CHAPTER IX. Crevecoeur; Bomback; Journey to Moscow; My Adventures at St. Petersburg.

    CHAPTER X. I See the Empress; My Conversations with Her; The Valville; I leave Zaira; I leave St. Petersburg and Arrive at Warsaw; The Princes Adam Czartoryski and Sulkowski; The King of Poland; Theatrical Intrigues; Branicki.

    CHAPTER XI. My Duel with Branicki; My Journey to Leopol and Return to Warsaw; I receive the Order to Leave—My Departure with the Unknown One.

    CHAPTER XII. My Arrival at Dresden with Maton; She Makes Me a Present; Leipzig; Castelbajac; Schwerin; Return to Dresden and Departure; I Arrive at Vienna; Pocchini's Vengeance.

    VOLUME X

    CHAPTER I. Goudar's Chair.

    If she had written all this to me instead of coming and delivering it vivâ voce, it would probably have produced no effect; there would have been no tears, no ravishing features. She probably calculated all this, for women have a wonderful instinct in these matters.

    That very evening I began my visits, and judged from my welcome that my triumph was nigh at hand. But love fills our minds with idle visions, and draws a veil over the truth.

    The fortnight went by without my even kissing her hand, and every time I came I brought some expensive gift, which seemed cheap to me when I obtained such smiles of gratitude in exchange. Besides these presents, not a day passed without some excursion to the country or party at the theatre; that fortnight must have cost me four hundred guineas at the least.

    At last it came to an end, and I asked her in the presence of her mother where she would spend the night with me, there or at my house. The mother said that we would settle it after supper, and I made no objection, not liking to tell her that in my house the supper would be more succulent, and a better prelude for the kind of exercise I expected to enjoy.

    When we had supped the mother took me aside, and asked me to leave with the company and then to come back. I obeyed, laughing to myself at this foolish mystery, and when I came back I found the mother and the daughter in the parlour, in which a bed had been laid on the floor.

    Though I did not much care for this arrangement, I was too amorous to raise any objection at a moment when I thought my triumph was at hand; but I was astonished when the mother asked me if I would like to pay the hundred guineas in advance.

    Oh, fie! exclaimed the girl; and her mother left the room, and we locked the door.

    My amorous feelings, so long pent up within my breast, would soon find relief. I approached her with open arms; but she avoided my caress, and gently begged me to get into bed while she prepared to follow me. I watched her undress with delight, but when she had finished she put out the candles. I complained of this act of hers, but she said she could not sleep with the light shining on her. I began to suspect that I might have some difficulties thrown in my way to sharpen the pleasure, but I determined to be resigned and to overcome them all.

    When I felt her in the bed I tried to clasp her in my arms, but found that she had wrapped herself up in her long night-gown; her arms were crossed, and her head buried in her chest. I entreated, scolded, cursed, but all in vain; she let me go on, and answered not a word.

    At first I thought it was a joke, but I soon found out my mistake; the veil fell from my eyes and I saw myself in my true colours, the degraded dupe of a vile prostitute.

    Love easily becomes fury. I began to handle her roughly, but she resisted and did not speak. I tore her night-gown to rags, but I could not tear it entirely off her. My rage grew terrible, my hands became talons, and I treated her with the utmost cruelty; but all for nothing. At last, with my hand on her throat, I felt tempted to strangle her; and then I knew it was time for me to go.

    It was a dreadful night. I spoke to this monster of a woman in every manner and tone-with gentleness, with argument, rage, remonstrance, prayers, tears, and abuse, but she resisted me for three hours without abandoning her painful position, in spite of the torments I made her endure.

    At three o'clock in the morning, feeling my mind and body in a state of exhaustion, I got up and dressed myself by my sense of touch. I opened the parlour door, and finding the street door locked I shook it till a servant came and let me out. I went home and got into bed, but excited nature refused me the sleep I needed so. I took a cup of chocolate, but it would not stay on my stomach, and soon after a shivering fit warned me that I was feverish. I continued to be ill till the next day, and then the fever left me in a state of complete exhaustion.

    As I was obliged to keep to my bed for a few days, I knew that I should soon get my health again; but my chief consolation was that at last I was cured. My shame had made me hate myself.

    When I felt the fever coming on I told my man not to let anybody come to see me, and to place all my letters in my desk; for I wanted to be perfectly well before I troubled myself with anything.

    On the fourth day I was better, and I told Jarbe to give me my letters. I found one from Pauline, dated from Madrid, in which she informed me that Clairmont had saved her life while they were fording a river, and she had determined to keep him till she got to Lisbon, and would then send him back by sea. I congratulated myself at the time on her resolve; but it was a fatal one for Clairmont, and indirectly for me also. Four months after, I heard that the ship in which he had sailed had been wrecked, and as I never heard from him again I could only conclude that my faithful servant had perished amidst the waves.

    Amongst my London letters I found two from the infamous mother of the infamous Charpillon, and one from the girl herself. The first of the mother's letters, written before I was ill, told me that her daughter was ill in bed, covered with bruises from the blows I had given her, so that she would be obliged to institute legal proceedings against me. In the second letter she said she had heard I too was ill, and that she was sorry to hear it, her daughter having informed her that I had some reason for my anger; however, she would not fail to justify herself on the first opportunity. The Charpillon said in her letter that she knew she had done wrong, and that she wondered I had not killed her when I took her by the throat. She added that no doubt I had made up my mind to visit her no more, but she hoped I would allow her one interview as she had an important communication to make to me. There was also a note from Goudar, saying that he wanted to speak to me, and that he would come at noon. I gave orders that he should be admitted.

    This curious individual began by astonishing me; he told me the whole story of what had taken place, the mother having been his informant.

    "The Charpillon, he added, has not got a fever, but is covered with bruises. What grieves the old woman most is that she has not got the hundred guineas."

    She would have had them the next morning, I said, if her daughter had been tractable.

    Her mother had made her swear that she would not be tractable, and you need not hope to possess her without the mother's consent.

    Why won't she consent?

    Because she thinks that you will abandon the girl as soon as you have enjoyed her.

    Possibly, but she would have received many valuable presents, and now she is abandoned and has nothing.

    Have you made up your mind not to have anything more to do with her?

    Quite.

    That's your wisest plan, and I advise you to keep to it, nevertheless I want to shew you something which will surprise you. I will be back in a moment.

    He returned, followed by a porter, who carried up an arm-chair covered with a cloth. As soon as we were alone, Goudar took off the covering and asked me if I would buy it.

    What should I do with it? It is not a very attractive piece of furniture.

    Nevertheless, the price of it is a hundred guineas.

    I would not give three.

    This arm-chair has five springs, which come into play all at once as soon as anyone sits down in it. Two springs catch the two arms and hold them tightly, two others separate the legs, and the fifth lifts up the seat.

    After this description Goudar sat down quite naturally in the chair and the springs came into play and forced him into the position of a woman in labour.

    "Get the fair Charpillon to sit in this chair, said he, and your business is done."

    I could not help laughing at the contrivance, which struck me as at once ingenious and diabolical, but I could not make up my mind to avail myself of it.

    I won't buy it, said I, but I shall be obliged if you will leave it here till to-morrow.

    I can't leave it here an hour unless you will buy it; the owner is waiting close by to hear your answer.

    Then take it away and come back to dinner.

    He shewed me how I was to release him from his ridiculous position, and then after covering it up again he called the porter and went away.

    There could be no doubt as to the action of the machinery, and it was no feeling of avarice which hindered me from buying the chair. As I have said, it seemed rather a diabolical idea, and besides it might easily have sent me to the gallows. Furthermore, I should never have had the strength of mind to enjoy the Charpillon forcibly, especially by means of the wonderful chair, the mechanism of which would have frightened her out of her wits.

    At dinner I told Goudar that the Charpillon had demanded an interview, and that I had wished to keep the chair so as to shew her that I could have her if I liked. I shewed him the letter, and he advised me to accede to her request, if only for curiosity's sake.

    I was in no hurry to see the creature while the marks on her face and neck were still fresh, so I spent seven or eight days without making up my mind to receive her. Goudar came every day, and told me of the confabulations of these women who had made up their minds not to live save by trickery.

    He told me that the grandmother had taken the name of Anspergher without having any right to it, as she was merely the mistress of a worthy citizen of Berne, by whom she had four daughters; the mother of the Charpillon was the youngest of the family, and, as she was pretty and loose in her morals, the Government had exiled her with her mother and sisters. They had then betaken themselves to Franche-Comté, where they lived for some time on the Balm of Life. Here it was that the Charpillon came into the world, her mother attributing her to a Count de Boulainvilliers. The child grew up pretty, and the family removed to Paris under the impression that it would be the best market for such a commodity, but in the course of four years the income from the Balm having dwindled greatly, the Charpillon being still too young to be profitable, and debtors closing round them on every side, they resolved to come to London.

    He then proceeded to tell me of the various tricks and cheats which kept them all alive. I found his narrative interesting enough then, but the reader would find it dull, and I expect will be grateful for my passing it over.

    I felt that it was fortunate for me that I had Goudar, who introduced me to all the most famous courtezans in London, above all to the illustrious Kitty Fisher, who was just beginning to be fashionable. He also introduced me to a girl of sixteen, a veritable prodigy of beauty, who served at the bar of a tavern at which we took a bottle of strong beer. She was an Irishwoman and a Catholic, and was named Sarah. I should have liked to get possession of her, but Goudar had views of his own on the subject, and carried her off in the course of the next year. He ended by marrying her, and she was the Sara Goudar who shone at Naples, Florence, Venice, and elsewhere. We shall hear of her in four or five years, still with her husband. Goudar had conceived the plan of making her take the place of Dubarry, mistress of Louis XV., but a lettre de cachet compelled him to try elsewhere. Ah! happy days of lettres de cachet, you have gone never to return!

    The Charpillon waited a fortnight for me to reply, and then resolved to return to the charge in person. This was no doubt the result of a conference of the most secret kind, for I heard nothing of it from Goudar.

    She came to see my by herself in a sedan-chair, and I decided on seeing her. I was taking my chocolate and I let her come in without rising or offering her any breakfast. She asked me to give her some with great modesty, and put up her face for me to give her a kiss, but I turned my head away. However, she was not in the least disconcerted.

    I suppose the marks of the blows you gave me make my face so repulsive?

    You lie; I never struck you.

    No, but your tiger-like claws have left bruises all over me. Look here. No, you needn't be afraid that what you see may prove too seductive; besides, it will have no novelty for you.

    So saying the wretched creature let me see her body, on which some livid marks were still visible.

    Coward that I was! Why did I not look another way? I will tell you: it was because she was so beautiful, and because a woman's charms are unworthy of the name if they cannot silence reason. I affected only to look at the bruises, but it was an empty farce. I blush for myself; here was I conquered by a simple girl, ignorant of well nigh everything. But she knew well enough that I was inhaling the poison at every pore. All at once she dropped her clothes and came and sat beside me, feeling sure that I should have relished a continuance of the spectacle.

    However, I made an effort and said, coldly, that it was all her own fault.

    I know it is, said she, for if I had been tractable as I ought to have been, you would have been loving instead of cruel. But repentance effaces sin, and I am come to beg pardon. May I hope to obtain it?

    Certainly; I am angry with you no longer, but I cannot forgive myself. Now go, and trouble me no more.

    I will if you like, but there is something you have not heard, and I beg you will listen to me a moment.

    As I have nothing to do you can say what you have got to say, I will listen to you.

    In spite of the coldness of my words, I was really profoundly touched, and the worst of it was that I began to believe in the genuineness of her motives.

    She might have relieved herself of what she had to say in a quarter of an hour, but by dint of tears, sighs, groans, digressions, and so forth, she took two hours to tell me that her mother had made her swear to pass the night as she had done. She ended by saying that she would like to be mine as she had been M. Morosini's, to live with me, and only to go out under my escort, while I might allow her a monthly sum which she would hand over to her mother, who would, in that case, leave her alone.

    She dined with me, and it was in the evening that she made this proposition. I suppose because she thought me ripe for another cheat. I told her that it might be arranged, but that I should prefer to settle with her mother, and that she would see me at their house the following day, and this seemed to surprise her.

    It is possible that the Charpillon would have granted me any favour on that day, and then there would have been no question of deception or resistance for the future. Why did I not press her? Because sometimes love stupefies instead of quickens, and because I had been in a way her judge, and I thought it would be base of me to revenge myself on her by satisfying my amorous desires, and possibly because I was a fool, as I have often been in the course of my existence.

    She must have left me in a state of irritation, and no doubt she registered a vow to revenge herself on me for the half-contemptuous way in which I had treated her.

    Goudar was astonished when he heard of her visit, and of the way in which I had spent the day. I begged him to get me a small furnished house, and in the evening I went to see the infamous woman in her own house.

    She was with her mother, and I laid my proposal before them.

    "Your daughter will have a house at Chelsea, said I to the mother, where I can go and see her whenever I like, and also fifty guineas a month to do what she likes with."

    I don't care what you give her a month, she replied, but before I let her leave my house she must give me the hundred guineas she was to have had when she slept with you.

    It is your fault that she didn't have them; however, to cut the matter short, she shall give them to you.

    And in the meanwhile, till you have found the house, I hope you will come and see me.

    Yes.

    The next day Goudar shewed me a pretty house at Chelsea, and I took it, paying ten guineas, a month's rent, in advance, for which I received a receipt. In the afternoon I concluded the bargain with the mother, the Charpillon being present. The mother asked me to give her the hundred guineas, and I did so, not fearing any treachery, as nearly the whole of the girl's clothing was already at Chelsea.

    In due course we went to our country house. The Charpillon liked the house immensely, and after a short talk we supped merrily together. After supper we went to bed, and she granted me some slight preliminary favours, but when I would have attained my end I found an obstacle which I had not expected. She gave me some physiological reasons for the circumstances, but not being a man to stop for so little, I would have gone on, but she resisted, and yet with such gentleness that I left her alone and went to sleep. I awoke sooner than she did, and determined to see whether she had imposed on me; so I raised her night-gown carefully, and took off her linen only to find that I had been duped once more. This roused her, and she tried to stop me, but it was too late. However, I gently chid her for the trick, and feeling disposed to forgive it set about making up for lost time, but she got on the high horse, and pretended to be hurt at my taking her by surprise. I tried to calm her by renewed tenderness, but the wretched creature only got more furious, and would give me nothing. I left her alone, but I expressed my opinion of her in pretty strong terms. The impudent slut honoured me with a smile of disdain, and then beginning to dress herself she proceeded to indulge in impertinent repartees. This made me angry, and I gave her a box on the ears which stretched her at full length on the floor. She shrieked, stamped her feet, and made a hideous uproar; the landlord came up, and she began to speak to him in English, while the blood gushed from her nose.

    The man fortunately spoke Italian, and told me that she wanted to go away, and advised me to let her do so, or she might make it awkward for me, and he himself would be obliged to witness against me.

    Tell her to begone as fast as she likes, said I, and to keep out of my sight for ever.

    She finished dressing, staunched the blood, and went off in a sedan-chair, while I remained petrified, feeling that I did not deserve to live, and finding her conduct utterly outrageous and incomprehensible.

    After an hour's consideration I decided on sending her back her trunk, and then I went home and to bed, telling my servants I was not at home to anyone.

    I spent twenty-four hours in pondering over my wrongs, and at last my reason told me that the fault was mine; I despised myself. I was on the brink of suicide, but happily I escaped that fate.

    I was just going out when Goudar came up and made me go in with him, as he said he wanted to speak to me. After telling me that the Charpillon had come home with a swollen cheek which prevented her shewing herself, he advised me to abandon all claims on her or her mother, or the latter would bring a false accusation against me which might cost me my life. Those who know England, and especially London will not need to be informed as to the nature of this accusation, which is so easily brought in England; it will suffice to say that through it Sodom was overwhelmed.

    The mother has engaged me to mediate, said Goudar, and if you will leave her alone, she will do you no harm.

    I spent the day with him, foolishly complaining, and telling him that he could assure the mother that I would take no proceedings against her, but that I should like to know if she had the courage to receive this assurance from my own lips.

    I will carry your message, said he, but I pity you; for you are going into their nets again, and will end in utter ruin.

    I fancied they would be ashamed to see me; but I was very much mistaken, for Goudar came back laughing, and said the mother expressed a hope that I should always be the friend of the family. I ought to have refused to have anything more to do with them, but I had not the strength to play the man. I called at Denmark Street the same evening, and spent an hour without uttering a syllable. The Charpillon sat opposite to me, with eyes lowered to a piece of embroidery, while from time to time she pretended to wipe away a tear as she let me see the ravages I had worked on her cheek.

    I saw her every day and always in silence till the fatal mark had disappeared, but during these mad visits the poison of desire was so instilled into my veins that if she had known my state of mind she might have despoiled me of all I possessed for a single favour.

    When she was once more as beautiful as ever I felt as if I must die if I did not hold her in my arms again, and I bought a magnificent pier-glass and a splendid breakfast service in Dresden china, and sent them to her with an amorous epistle which must have made her think me either the most extravagant or the most cowardly of men. She wrote in answer that she would expect me to sup with her in her room, that she might give me the tenderest proofs of her gratitude.

    This letter sent me completely mad with joy, and in a paroxysm of delight I resolved to surrender to her keeping the two bills of exchange which Bolomé had given me, and which gave me power to send her mother and aunts to prison.

    Full of the happiness that awaited me, and enchanted with my own idiotic heroism, I went to her in the evening. She received me in the parlour with her mother, and I was delighted to see the pier-glass over the mantel, and the china displayed on a little table. After a hundred words of love and tenderness she asked me to come up to her room, and her mother wished us good night. I was overwhelmed with joy. After a delicate little supper I took out the bills of exchange, and after telling her their history gave them up to her, to shew that I had no intention of avenging myself on her mother and aunts. I made her promise that she would never part with them, and she said she would never do so, and with many expressions of gratitude and wonder at my generosity she locked them up with great care.

    Then I thought it was time to give her some marks of my passion, and I found her kind; but when I would have plucked the fruit, she clasped me to her arms, crossed her legs, and began to weep bitterly.

    I made an effort, and asked her if she would be the same when we were in bed. She sighed, and after a moment's pause, replied, Yes.

    For a quarter of an hour I remained silent and motionless, as if petrified. At last I rose with apparent coolness, and took my cloak and sword.

    What! said she, are you not going to spend the night with me?

    No.

    But we shall see each other to-morrow?

    I hope so. Good night.

    I left that infernal abode, and went home to bed.

    CHAPTER II. The End of the Story Stranger than the Beginning.

    At eight o'clock the next morning Jarbe told me that the Charpillon wanted to see me, and that she had sent away her chairmen.

    Tell her that I can't see her.

    But I had hardly spoken when she came in, and Jarbe went out. I addressed her

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