During the days that followed, Hilda tried to steal away from the male call of Choisy. But in vain. He pursued her everywhere, and even into her own home. And once in the place, he knew how to impose his will on her. At the sight of his convincing virility, her will-power buckled like a thin sheet of corrugated iron under the weight of a hippo perched on the back of a rhino. She swore like a trooper but gave in just the same. Just like the others.
But poor Choisy, superhuman though he may be, could not possibly satisfy four hungry females so he reduced his activities to two a day-Francesca or Hilda at night, and during the day Flavia or Charlotte. That was quite enough, thank you.
But the four women started thinking that he was deceiving them, without however being able to say with whom. And, of course, they had to keep their suspicions quiet for, being women of the world, they could not very well air their grievances in the salons. So they got their own back in the privacy of their bedrooms, and started nagging Choisy.
You know how it goes-something like “who were you with last night? Why didn't you come to me yesterday?” and all that sort of rot.
Flavia and Charlotte were more reserved-their reproaches were more like insinuations and hints full of double-entendre.
Charlotte suffered more than the others from the green-eyed monster, probably because she realized that she had given the best of herself to a man who was now deceiving her. After all, she had never gone with any man apart from her husband before Choisy seduced her. So she was naturally bitter about it. But she had grown very much attached to him and clung to him like ivy to the wall. She could not hold back her tears of vexation and passion. One day she told Choisy:
— I can't go on with this unbalanced existence. Since I have committed the greatest sin ever, I must accept all its consequences. I can't go on playing this comedy of virtue before the world, before my husband. I feel my strength ebbing away from me.
— Don't take it so hard, he tried to calm her, think of all the ladies who don't take so tragically such a petty sin.
— No, a thousand times no-I am not like those women for whom having a lover is no more important than taking medicine, she exclaimed.
She became a bit wild in her talk and mentioned damnation, hell and all the calamities that must befall those who commit adultery. Then, in a passionate fling, she put out an astonishing proposition:
— Let's stop deceiving people, she said, let's go away together!
— Both of us, go away? Choisy said, stunned.
— Yes, repeated Charlotte, who had made up her mind.
— But, where?
— Anywhere. There is no lack of countries where we can live and love in peace, hidden from prying eyes.
— This takes some thinking about, said Choisy wisely.
— Did we think before? So why think now? Now we have to accept what's coming to us.
Choisy thought that the best thing to do was to play for time.
— But, he said, we can't go away so suddenly. There is a snag, you see, I happen to have very little money about me at the moment. We couldn't live decently with the little I have.
— Can't you procure some money by post? she asked. Meanwhile I can sell a few family jewels. Anyway, people in love are content with very little.
— Well, said Choisy, hedging, I shall see with the people I am in business relations with.
The time when the baron (Charlotte's husband) would be coming back was drawing near, so Choisy kissed her good-bye, but not before she had told him:
— I trust you, my love. Take me away from here. Deliver me from this torment. Swear that you will.
Choisy gave his word. All's fair in love and war, he thought. And a juicy kiss from him placated Charlotte's tormented soul until their meeting.
Once outside he breathed with relief. He did not relish the idea of going away from this town so propitious to his lovelife. But he reflected that Charlotte would soon become tyrannical and nagging and that in spite of her love for him-or rather because of it-she would tolerate him no concession. So he decided to go and see her less often in the future.
Meanwhile however Charlotte was busily preparing for her departure. She feverishly packed her clothes and jewels into a case in order to be ready as soon as Choisy would give the word.
But, on that very evening, something unusual happened. Hilda, who had been waiting impatiently for Choisy to come to her, and was lying on her bed with her body all afire with the passion he had instilled in her, decided to go and see for herself what he was about. So, at night-fall, she took a gondola and went to Choisy's hotel.
She arrived just in time to see Choisy board a gondola, so she told her gondolier to follow Choisy, and thus she saw him go to Francesca's palace. She waited a little, but there soon was no doubt-Choisy was a traitor to her.
She boiled inwardly with rage and entertained in her mind thoughts of the most horrible bloody vengeance, but remembered in time that in Venice murderers are punished in such an exemplary manner that they never do it again, for the good reason that they are dead.
So she rapped out an order to her gondolier to drive her home, where, needless to say, she spent a terrible night, tortured by visions of Choisy kissing that girl, that other girl, unknown to her, and of his lying on top of her and his driving his beloved penis into her (oh, how she was aching for one right now! She put a finger into her cunt, shut her eyes-but no! Nothing could replace Choisy). She thought of him licking the other woman's cunt, and she wetted with saliva her middle and forefingers and rubbed her clitoris with them, soon bathing with love-juice the sheets of her bed.
As soon as dawn came, she went out and inquired about who inhabited the palace where she had seen Choisy go and spend the night and, without difficulty, learned that it was the possession of a rich merchant who kept a Sicilian woman called Francesca, a notorious courtesan.
She decided to wreak out a terrible vengeance. As she never for a moment supposed that that woman Francesca would give her love to any man, even Choisy, without getting paid in money, she penned an accusation and placed it into the mouth of the gorgonzola-oops, sorry, I mean “gargoyle” — which served as a repository for accusations destined to the Counsel of the Ten who ruled Venice.
In the evening, she went to the salon of the marchioness of Rubo where Choisy appeared, a few moments later, more seductive than ever, butterflying from one lady to another like a sheik in his harem. As he came near Hilda, he bowed to her familiarly, and she felt gnawed by jealousy as she thought that he was amiable with all the other women as well. She felt like strangling him with her own hands. But, suddenly, she felt all serene and happy, for he had just whispered to her:
— To-night?
She smiled and her eyes said “yes.” Soon afterwards, she left for her home. There, she paced the room impatiently, gnawing her knuckles and wondering if he would come or if she would have to go and stab him with a dagger.
But he came all right. And he was his usual charming self.
She threw herself into his arms, delirious with carnal desire, tore his clothes off him, pushed him on the bed and contemplated for a moment his magnificent virility. Then, without bothering about preliminaries, she threw herself on top of him and took him with astonishing savagery which filled him with ecstasy. And, while her loins agitated themselves with frenzy, she bit him on the shoulder to prevent herself from abusing him.
Then she sucked him off with such passion that she could not help biting him at times, which made Choisy sweat with the sudden fright that she should forget herself and bite too deeply, too irremediably so. Just imagine-a prickless Choisy! Better die of the plague than such a calamity.
When she had finished, she rolled on the bed with him and held him close against her. She was vibrating with a passion he had never known in any other woman. He did his best to satisfy her but she was always hungry for more. As he sucked her off, and kneaded her buttocks in his hands, she groaned with pleasure and, taking violent hold of his hair, pushed his head against her twat forcibly. And she kissed him, later, so savagely that she drew blood.
— But what's the matter with you to-night? he asked.
— It's because I love you, she answered with passion.
She nearly spouted out all she had on her heart, but said nothing, for she guessed that if she did she would lose him to that odious Francesca.
Choisy went back to his hotel in the morning, weary but wonderfully contented.
But he had slept only a few hours when he was rudely awakened by loud knocks on his door.
It was a Commissioner of the Republic who had come to signify to him that the Counsel of the Ten had decided on his expulsion because of unwarranted debauch. In vain did he discuss, plead, solicit a delay of execution, naming the baron of Ransac as warrant of his good faith and intentions. But the ambassador had already been told and there was nothing he could do-he would have to leave the Venice he had grown so attached to.
But he was very philosophical and, as the gondola of the police was driving him away, he smiled benignly and waved good-bye to Venice, saying:
— Addio, Venizia! I shall always keep an exquisite remembrance of you. Venice, you have earned your reputation of Capital of Love… but there are other towns…
And even then he started thinking about his future love adventures which, he was sure, were awaiting him round the comer.
Charlotte de Ransac was one of the first to know of Choisy's sudden departure, for her husband worked at the embassy. With great difficulty she overcame her emotion.
— But what has he done? she asked, was it a political intrigue?
— Not even that, her husband answered, that Choisy is incorrigible-he had taken as his mistress a-well, a person dear to an important person.
— Who? Charlotte wanted to know.
— A-courtesan-the fair Francesca.
Charlotte de Ransac became pale and pretexted she was feeling unwell to take refuge in her room. There she felt as if a crater had opened out under her feet. After such a cruel act of treason she thought she would not be able to bear the blow inflicted on her. But, little by little, she reasoned with herself and calculated that soon her husband would be recalled in Paris, and there she would probably meet Choisy again, and then, what a revenge she would wreak out!
At the end of the day, the marchioness came to visit Mrs. de Ransac and she guessed at once that something was worrying Charlotte.
— What is the matter with you, have you bad news from France? she asked.
— Not from France, but from Venice-oh, my dear. I want to open my heart to you And she started blurting out everything about her relationship with Choisy.
So the marchioness, whose cunt had been the repository of Choisy's penis, was now the repository of Charlotte's confessions.
— You too! Flavia could not help exclaiming.
It was time such a dangerous man went away.
They looked at each other and they did not have to add another word-they were united in the same misfortune.
And they did not even have the consolation of knowing that Hilda was bitterly repenting her sudden access of fury which had led her to writing a letter to the Counsel of the Ten, thus bringing about the expulsion of the very one she wanted so much to keep.
The three women, victims of Choisy's guile, never showed in public the bitterness that was in their hearts, as gossip would have been relentless if their affairs with their lover had become known in the famous Venice salons.