Memoirs of Casanova — Volume 02: a Cleric in Naples eBook

Giacomo Casanova
This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 205 pages of information about Memoirs of Casanova — Volume 02.

Two days afterwards, the cardinal gave me a passport for Venice, and a sealed letter addressed to Osman Bonneval, Pacha of Caramania, in Constantinople.  There was no need of my saying anything to anyone, but, as the cardinal had not forbidden me to do it, I shewed the address on the letter to all my acquaintances.

The Chevalier de Lezze, the Venetian Ambassador, gave me a letter for a wealthy Turk, a very worthy man who had been his friend; Don Gaspar and Father Georgi asked me to write to them, but the Abbe Gams, laughed, and said he was quite sure I was not going to Constantinople.

I went to take my farewell of Donna Cecilia, who had just received a letter from Lucrezia, imparting the news that she would soon be a mother.  I also called upon Angelique and Don Francisco, who had lately been married and had not invited me to the wedding.

When I called to take Cardinal Acquaviva’s final instructions he gave me a purse containing one hundred ounces, worth seven hundred sequins.  I had three hundred more, so that my fortune amounted to one thousand sequins; I kept two hundred, and for the rest I took a letter of exchange upon a Ragusan who was established in Ancona.  I left Rome in the coach with a lady going to Our Lady of Loretto, to fulfil a vow made during a severe illness of her daughter, who accompanied her.  The young lady was ugly; my journey was a rather tedious one.


My Short But Rather Too Gay Visit To Ancona—­Cecilia, Marina, Bellino—­the Greek Slave of the Lazzaretto—­Bellino Discovers Himself

I arrived in Ancona on the 25th of February, 1744, and put up at the best inn.  Pleased with my room, I told mine host to prepare for me a good meat dinner; but he answered that during Lent all good Catholics eat nothing but fish.

“The Holy Father has granted me permission to eat meat.”

“Let me see your permission.”

“He gave it to me by word of mouth.”

“Reverend sir, I am not obliged to believe you.”

“You are a fool.”

“I am master in my own house, and I beg you will go to some other inn.”

Such an answer, coupled to a most unexpected notice to quit, threw me into a violent passion.  I was swearing, raving, screaming, when suddenly a grave-looking individual made his appearance in my room, and said to me: 

“Sir, you are wrong in calling for meat, when in Ancona fish is much better; you are wrong in expecting the landlord to believe you on your bare word; and if you have obtained the permission from the Pope, you have been wrong in soliciting it at your age; you have been wrong in not asking for such permission in writing; you are wrong in calling the host a fool, because it is a compliment that no man is likely to accept in his own house; and, finally, you are wrong in making such an uproar.”

Far from increasing my bad temper, this individual, who had entered my room only to treat me to a sermon, made me laugh.

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Memoirs of Casanova — Volume 02: a Cleric in Naples from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.