The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova de Seingalt, 1725-1798. Volume 27: Expelled from Spain. Giacomo Casanova

promised to come, and I kept my word.

      Her house was just outside the town walls, and was a very large building. It was richly and tastefully furnished, and was surrounded by an enormous garden.

      The first thing that struck me was the number of the lackeys and the richness of their liveries, and the maids in elegant attire, who seemed to be going and coming in all directions.

      As I advanced I heard an imperious voice scolding some one.

      The scold was Nina, who was abusing an astonished-looking man, who was standing by a large table covered with stuffs and laces.

      "Excuse me," said she, "but this fool of a Spaniard wants to persuade me that this lace is really handsome."

      She asked me what I thought of the lace, and though I privately thought it lace of the finest quality, I did not care to contradict her, and so replied that I was no judge.

      "Madam," said the tradesman, "if you do not like the lace, leave it; will you keep the stuffs?"

      "Yes," she replied; "and as for the lace, I will shew you that it is not the money that deters me."

      So saying the mad girl took up a pair of scissors and cut the lace into fragments.

      "What a pity!" said the man who had spoken to me at the bull fight."People will say that you have gone off your head."

      "Be silent, you pimping rogue!" said she, enforcing her words with a sturdy box on the ear.

      The fellow went off, calling her strumpet, which only made her scream with laughter; then, turning to the Spaniard, she told him to make out his account directly.

      The man did not want telling twice, and avenged himself for the abuse he had received by the inordinate length of his bill.

      She took up the account and placed her initials at the bottom without deigning to look at the items, and said,—

      "Go to Don Diego Valencia; he will pay you immediately."

      As soon as we were alone the chocolate was served, and she sent a message to the fellow whose ears she had boxed to come to breakfast directly.

      "You needn't be surprised at my way of treating him," she said. "He's a rascal whom Ricla has placed in my house to spy out my actions, and I treat him as you have seen, so that he may have plenty of news to write to his master."

      I thought I must be dreaming; such a woman seemed to me beyond the limits of the possible.

      The poor wretch, who came from Bologna and was a musician by profession, came and sat down with us without a word. His name was Molinari.

      As soon as he had finished his breakfast he left the room, and Nina spent an hour with me talking about Spain, Italy, and Portugal, where she had married a dancer named Bergonzi.

      "My father," she said, "was the famous charlatan Pelandi; you may have known him at Venice."

      After this piece of confidence (and she did not seem at all ashamed of her parentage) she asked me to sup with her, supper being her favourite meal. I promised to come, and I left her to reflect on the extraordinary character of the woman, and on the good fortune which she so abused.

      Nina was wonderfully beautiful; but as it has always been my opinion that mere beauty does not go for much, I could not understand how a viceroy could have fallen in love with her to such an extent. As for Molinari, after which I had seen, I could only set him down as an infamous wretch.

      I went to supper with her for amusement's sake, for, with all her beauty, she had not touched my heart in the slightest degree. It was at the beginning of October, but at Valentia the thermometer marked twenty degrees Reaumur in the shade.

      Nina was walking in the garden with her companion, both of them being very lightly clad; indeed, Nina had only her chemise and a light petticoat.

      As soon as she saw me she came up and begged me to follow their example in the way of attire, but I begged to be excused. The presence of that hateful fellow revolted me in the highest degree.

      In the interval before supper Nina entertained me with a number of lascivious anecdotes of her experiences from the time she began her present mode of living up to the age of twenty-two, which was her age then.

      If it had not been for the presence of the disgusting Argus, no doubt all these stories would have produced their natural effect on me; but as it was they had none whatever.

      We had a delicate supper and ate with appetite, and after it was over I would have gladly left them; but Nina would not let me go. The wine had taken effect, and she wished to have a little amusement.

      After all the servants had been dismissed, this Messalina ordered Molinari to strip naked, and she then began to treat him in a manner which I cannot describe without disgust.

      The rascal was young and strong, and, though he was drunk, Nina's treatment soon placed him in a hearty condition. I could see that she wished me to play my part in the revels, but my disgust had utterly deprived me of all my amorous faculties.

      Nina, too, had undressed, and seeing that I viewed the orgy coldly she proceeded to satiate her desires by means of Molinari.

      I had to bear with the sight of this beautiful woman coupling herself with an animal, whose only merit lay in his virile monstrosity, which she no doubt regarded as a beauty.

      When she had exhausted her amorous fury she threw herself into a bath, then came back, drank a bottle of Malmsey Madeira, and finally made her brutal lover drink till he fell on to the floor.

      I fled into the next room, not being able to bear it any longer, but she followed me. She was still naked, and seating herself beside me on an ottoman she asked me how I had enjoyed the spectacle.

      I told her boldy that the disgust with which her wretched companion had inspired me was so great that it had utterly annulled the effect of her charms.

      "That may be so, but now he is not here, and yet you do nothing. One would not think it, to look at you."

      "You are right, for I have my feelings like any other man, but he has disgusted me too much. Wait till tomorrow, and let me not see that monster so unworthy of enjoying you."

      "He does not enjoy me. If I thought he did I would rather die than let him have to do with me, for I detest him."

      "What! you do not love him, and yet you make use of him in the way you do?"

      "Yes, just as I might use a mechanical instrument."

      In this woman I saw an instance of the depths of degradation to which human nature may be brought.

      She asked me to sup with her on the following day, telling me that we would be alone, as Molinari would be ill.

      "He will have got over the effects of the wine."

      "I tell you he will be ill. Come to-morrow, and come every evening."

      "I am going the day after to-morrow."

      "You will not go for a week, and then we will go together."

      "That's impossible."

      "If you go you will insult me beyond bearing."

      I went home with my mind made up to depart without having anything more to do with her; and though I was far from inexperienced in wickedness of all kinds, I could not help feeling astonished at the unblushing frankness of this Megaera, who had told me what I already knew, but in words that I had never heard a woman use before.

      "I only use him to satisfy my desires, and because I am certain that he does not love me; if I thought he did I would rather die than allow him to do anything with me, for I detest him."

      The next day I went to her at seven o'clock in the evening. She received me with an air of feigned melancholy, saying,—

      "Alas! we shall have to sup alone; Molinari has got the colic."

      "You said he would be ill; have you poisoned him?"

      "I am quite capable of doing so, but I hope I never shall."

      "But you have given him something?"

      "Only