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Updated: June 9, 2025
At the inn there, by paying a considerable sum as earnest money, he was able to arrange for a carriage to await him at ten o'clock that evening for the drive from Olivo's house into Mantua. Returning to the house, Casanova disposed of his gold in a safe corner of the turret chamber.
He himself, who shortly before had been so profoundly moved, had been desperate, had been ready for evil deeds, was now so gentle, so kindly, in so merry a mood, that Olivo's little daughters were shaking their sides with laughter.
Nor had you forgotten me, for were it otherwise, in your eagerness to get to Venice, you would never have accepted Olivo's invitation." "What do you mean, Amalia? Can you imagine I have come here to betray your husband?" "How can you use such a phrase, Casanova? Were I to be yours once again, there would be neither betrayal nor sin." Casanova laughed. "No sin? Wherefore not?
A little farther on, the coachman was about to turn into the by-road leading up the gentle ascent to Olivo's house. "Halt!" cried Casanova. "We won't drive any nearer, lest we should wake them all up. Wait for me here at the corner. I shall be back in a minute or two. If I should happen to keep you longer, you shall have a ducat for every hour!"
If Casanova should need learned treatises and works of reference, there would be no lack of them, for Olivo's niece, the daughter of a deceased half-brother, a girl who though young was extremely erudite, had arrived a few weeks before with a whole trunkful of books.
As you can imagine, Amalia and I had a good talk about you on the anniversary of our wedding." "Indeed?" said Casanova cordially. "You both think of me at times?" The tears came to Olivo's eyes. He was still holding Casanova's hands, and he pressed them fondly. "We have so much to thank you for, Signor Casanova. How could we ever forget our benefactor? Should we do so..."
As Casanova drew near, Teresina greeted him, not with the look of lascivious understanding which he had involuntarily expected, but with a frank smile of childlike confidence, as if what had passed between them only a few hours before had been nothing more than some trivial pastime. Olivo's face lighted up in friendly fashion, and Amalia nodded a cordial greeting.
All these successes were ultimately due to the hundred and fifty gold pieces that Casanova had presented to Amalia, or rather to her mother. But for this magical aid, Olivo's lot would still have been the same. He would still have been giving instruction in reading and writing to ill-behaved youngsters. Most likely, he would have been an old bachelor and Amalia an old maid.
With a complacent air of ownership, he waved towards the house, lying at the foot of the hill. Casanova fancied he could detect a female figure flitting to and fro in the turret chamber. The sun was near to setting, but the heat was still considerable. Beads of perspiration coursed down Olivo's cheeks, but Casanova's brow showed no trace of moisture.
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