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Updated: June 12, 2025
"Don't speak of it," interrupted Casanova. "How is Signora Amalia? Do you know, I have been living in Mantua three months, very quietly to be sure, but taking plenty of walks as I always have done. How is it, Olivo, that I never met you or your wife before?" "The matter is simple, Signor Casanova. Both Amalia and I detest the town, and we gave up living there a long time ago.
Thence he descended to the garden, where a spectacle awaited him, not in itself remarkable, but one which touched him strangely in his present mood. Upon a bench at the edge of the greensward Olivo was sitting beside Amalia, his arm round her waist. Reclining at their feet were the three girls, tired out by the afternoon's play.
Casanova pursued the train of his own thoughts, attending to Olivo's narrative only in so far as was requisite to enable him from time to time to interpose a polite question or to make an appropriate comment. Nothing claimed his interest until Olivo, after talking of all and sundry, came back to the topic of his family, and at length to Marcolina. But Casanova learned little that was new.
Casanova brought up the rear, with bowed head, as if on the occasion of some profoundly affecting farewell. The porter was waiting. He received his alms. The visitors stepped into the carriage, and started on the homeward road. Olivo seemed perplexed; Amalia was distrait. Marcolina, however, was quite unmoved.
I am indeed sorry, Lieutenant Lorenzi, if this name fails to meet with your approval." "Seingalt! It is a splendid name," said the Abbate, repeating it several times, as if he were tasting it. "There is not a man in the world," exclaimed Olivo, "who has a better right to name himself Chevalier than my distinguished friend Casanova!"
I have brought a friend home with me, an old friend whom you'll be delighted to see!" Amalia had already appeared on the stairs, although to most of those who had just come out of the glaring sunlight she was invisible in the twilit interior. Casanova, whose keen vision enabled him to see well even in the dark, had noted her presence sooner than Olivo.
"Anyhow," said the Abbate indignantly, "the Lieutenant cannot get the money here by magic." The two Ricardis laughed; but instantly restrained their mirth. Olivo once more addressed the Marchese. "It is plain that you must grant Lieutenant Lorenzi leave to depart." "Yes, if he gives me a pledge," exclaimed the Marchese with flashing eyes, as if this idea gave him peculiar delight.
"Has war broken out?" inquired Marcolina from the window. She had turned round; her face betrayed nothing, but there was a slight quaver in her voice which no one but Casanova noticed. "It may come to nothing," he said lightly. "But the Spaniards seem rather bellicose, and it is necessary to be on the alert." Olivo looked important and wrinkled his brow.
At this moment Amalia and Marcolina emerged from the house. Olivo besought them to second his invitation. But when neither found a word to say on the matter, Casanova's voice and expression assumed an unduly severe emphasis as he answered: "Quite out of the question."
They had just reached a narrow wooden door in the garden wall. Olivo produced a key, and turned the creaking lock. Giving the Marchese precedence into the garden, he arrested Casanova by the arm, whispering: "You must take back those last words, Chevalier, before you set foot in my house again. The money I have been owing you these sixteen years awaits you. I was only afraid to speak of it.
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