a birth-mark which was really very much like a strawberry. "It is that
mark," said the old woman, simpering, "which gave me the name of 'La
Fragoletta.'"

Those words made me shudder.

I had before my eyes the fatal phantom which was the cause of my
existence. I saw the woman who had thirty years before, seduced my
father: if it had not been for her, he would never have thought of
leaving his father's house, and would never have engendered me in the
womb of a Venetian woman. I have never been of the opinion of the old
author who says, 'Nemo vitam vellet si daretur scientibus'.

Seeing how thoughtful I was, she politely enquired my name from Baletti,
for he had presented me only as a friend, and without having given her
notice of my visit. When he told her that my name was Casanova, she was
extremely surprised.

"Yes, madam," I said, "I am the son of Gaetan Casanova, of Parma."

"Heavens and earth! what is this? Ah! my friend, I adored your father! He
was jealous without cause, and abandoned me. Had he not done so, you
would have been my son! Allow me to embrace you with the feelings of a
loving mother."

I expected as much, and, for fear she should fall, I went to her,
received her kiss, and abandoned myself to her tender recollections.
Still an actress, she pressed her handkerchief to her eyes, pretending to
weep, and assuring me that I was not to doubt the truth of what she said.