Casanova by Laurence Bergreen

Author:Laurence Bergreen
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon & Schuster
Published: 2016-12-03T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

* * *

Miss Wynne

On arrival at The Hague, Casanova received a dinner invitation from his former lover, prospective mate, and would-be antagonist Teresa Trenti. “I found this most unusual woman on the fifth floor of a dilapidated house with her daughter and her son,” newly arrived from Rotterdam, possibly with help from Casanova. In the middle of the room there was a table covered with a black cloth on which stood two candles. Because The Hague is a court city, I was richly dressed. The woman, clad in black with her two children, made me think of Medea.” (In Euripides’ tragedy, Medea murders her two offspring.) At least the appearance of the children dispelled his qualms. “Nothing could be prettier than the two young creatures. I fondly embraced the boy, calling him my son. His mother told him from that moment on he was to consider me his father.” More evidence that Casanova paid for the privilege.

The two received one another into their lives politely, as Casanova reserved his attentions for little Sophie, whom he lifted onto his lap and covered with kisses. “For all her silence she enjoyed seeing that she interested me more than her brother had.” She wore a light petticoat, he noticed, as his lips devoured “every part of her pretty body, delighted to be the man to whom the little girl owed existence.” Sophie patiently submitted to his affectionate embrace, as she reminded herself that her real father was dead, and this strange man could be her “fond friend,” as Casanova suggested, after which they gave one another “a good hug.”

At dinner, Casanova assessed his “son,” whom he planned to take along despite the boy’s character flaws. “I discovered he was false, secretive, always on his guard, always preparing his answers in advance, and never giving answers from his heart.” The boy covered his guile with a show of manners, which prompted Casanova to lecture him on the importance of sincerity. When his mother, rushing to his defense, explained that she had taught the child such reserve, “I told her to her face that it was abominable, and that I could not imagine how a father could have any fondness for—let alone a predilection—for a son who never spoke out.” He offered more advice: “The thing is to disclose your soul . . . and to reveal to me even things that might make you blush.” Casanova arrived at the conclusion that his “newly-adopted son’s soul was not so attractive as his person.” Worse, he proved “incapable of friendship.”

Casanova had an ulterior motive for subjecting Teresa’s son to scrutiny; he planned to present him to Madame d’Urfé as the embodiment of her mystical longings for fulfillment. “The more I made his birth a mystery,” he thought, “the more her Genius would lead her to invent wild fantasies.”

Watching this give-and-take between Casanova and her brother, little Sophie started to cry. “Why are you crying?” asked her mother. “It’s stupid.”

Sophie burst into laughter and kissed her mother.

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