. . . .  On this idea, he thought that the soul of an honest man was no different than a soldier’s breech.  If Gerron caused trouble to the spirit of a man of honor, he thought that this spirit, like his own, had only a rump, and that any trouble he caused would pass likewise.  He deceived himself.  The breech of the spirit of an honest man is different than the breech of the spirit of a Gerron who rendered compatible the rank of a military officer with the vile employments of a domestic and the stable-master of some particular lord.  Since Gerron deceived himself, we must pardon him all his faults . . .” etc.

Casanova complained of the Faulkircher incident to the mother of Count Waldstein, who wrote:  “I pity you, Monsieur, for being obliged to live among such people and in such evil company, but my son will not forget that which he owes to himself and I am sure he will give you all the satisfaction you wish.”  Also to his friend Zaguri, who wrote, the 16th March:  “I hope that the gout in your hand will not torment you any more. . . .  You have told me the story I asked about and which begins:  ’Two months have passed since an officer, who is at Vienna, insulted me!’ I cannot understand whether he who wrote you an insulting letter is at Vienna or whether he is at Dux.  When will the Count return? . . .  You should await his return because you would have, among other reasons to present to him, that of not wishing to have recourse to other jurisdiction than his. . .  You say your letters have been intercepted?  Someone has put your portrait in the privy?  The devil!  It is a miracle that you have not killed someone.  Positively, I am curious to know the results and I hope that you make no mistakes in this affair which appears to me very delicate.”

In August 1792, or thereabouts, Da Ponte on his way to Dresden, visited Casanova at Dux, in the hope of collecting an old debt, but gave up this hope on realizing Casanova’s limited resources.  In the winter of 1792-3 Da Ponte found himself in great distress in Holland.  “Casanova was the only man to whom I could apply,” he writes in his Memoirs.  “To better dispose him, I thought to write him in verse, depicting my troubles and begging him to send me some money on account of that which he still owed me.  Far from considering my request, he contented himself with replying, in vulgar prose, by a laconic billet which I transcribe:  ’When Cicero wrote to his friends, he avoided telling them of his affairs.’”

In May 1793, Da Ponte wrote from London:  “Count Waldstein has lived a very obscure life in London, badly lodged, badly dressed, badly served, always in cabarets, cafes, with porters, with rascals, with . . . we will leave out the rest.  He has the heart of an angel and an excellent character, but not so good a head as ours.”