DEAR CASANOVA
-by DARYL G. KRUSE-
The funeral was generally considered by many as one of the most distressing events of its time, but the misery was most profoundly felt by the group of women who now gathered at the deceased's final rites. This solemn occasion marked the burial of seventy-three year old Giovanni Giacomo Casanova de Seingalt,
better known simply as: Casanova, Venetian adventurer, author,
prison escapee, lottery director. . .and the most patronized lover in all of Europe!
. . I was there to attend the funeral, but not as a mourner. I'd been hired to look after a pair of shaggy Russian Wolfhounds whose mistress had joined a sizable coterie of other women at the
gravesite, their heads bowed in grief-stricken reverence while
sobbing and shedding woeful tears as the redoubtable Casanova was
laid to eternal rest. The group of women represented some of the
richest and most famous ladies of the continent, along with a
scattering of notorious ladies of the night and an ample corps of
other damsels who gathered to pay their last respects. Without
exception, all seemed stunned, silenced with deep regret as they
mourned the famous lover's departure from all earthly pleasures,
particularly those for which he was widely renowned.
. . Off to the side, at a respectful distance, stood a similar sized group of men; men who unceremoniously talked among
themselves, mostly with high humor. They had earlier paid their
respects along with their ladies, but only in deference to the
occasion, not sadness of heart. Mostly, I imagined, they were
highly envious of Casanova's notable reputation as the master of
savoir-faire in matters of amour du jour. He was the man whose
artistry in the boudoir was considered an enviable talent given to
few others--and certainly not to those gentlemen now chatting
quietly as though they now belonged to a conspiratorial
brotherhood. These men knew only too well the capricious nature of
the distaff branch of the human race. Most of them were usually
forced to present lavish gifts and utter florid blandishments long
before being allowed into their own wife's bedchamber--not to
mention the occasional mistress. It was destined, therefore, that
the passing of Casanova would intensely affect both groups of those attending the funeral--some for better, some for worse. I guess it depended on your point of view.
. . As for Casanova, one can only say: Requiescat in Pace, dear fellow. You deserve a long and peaceful rest.
