paid . . . ."

5th May 1784. "I went to the house of M. Francesco Manenti, at S. Polo di
Campo, with my bill of exchange, and he gave me at once eighteen pieces
of ten lires each . . . . I figure that you made fun of me saying
seriously that you will go up in a balloon and that, if the wind is
favorable, you will go in the air to Trieste and then from Trieste to
Venice."

19th May 1784. "I see, to my great regret, that you are in poor health
and still short of money .... You say that you need twenty sequins and
that you have only twenty trari . . . . I hope that your book is printed.
. . ."

29th May 1784. "I note with pleasure that you are going to take the
baths; but I regret that this treatment enfeebles and depresses you. It
reassures me that you do not fail in your appetite nor your sleep.... I
hope I will not hear you say again that you are disgusted with
everything, and no longer in love with life . . . . I see that for you,
at this moment, fortune sleeps . . . . I am not surprised that everything
is so dear in the city where you are, for at Venice also one pays dearly
and everything is priced beyond reach."

Zaguri wrote Casanova the 12th May, that he had met Francesca in the
Mongolfieri casino. And on the 2nd June Casanova, doubtless feeling his
helplessness in the matter of money, and the insufficiency of his
occasional remittances, and suspicious of Francesca's loyalty, wrote her
a letter of renunciation. Then came her news of the sale of his books;
and eighteen months passed before he wrote to her again.

On the 12th June 1784, Francesca replied: "I could not expect to convey
to you, nor could you figure, the sorrow that tries me in seeing that you
will not occupy yourself any more with me . . . . I hid from you that I
had been with that woman who lived with us, with her companion, the
cashier of the Academie des Mongolfceristes. Although I went to this
Academy with prudence and dignity, I did not want to write you for fear
you would scold me. That is the only reason, and hereafter you may be
certain of my sincerity and frankness. . . . I beg you to forgive me this
time, if I write you something I have never written for fear that you
would be angry with me because I had not told you. Know then that four
months ago, your books which were on the mezzanine were sold to a library
for the sum of fifty lires, when we were in urgent need. It was my mother
who did it. . . ."

26th June 1784. ". . . Mme. Zeno