In the morning he had a bed and some food from his own house.  I was burdened with this wretched fellow for two months, for before condemning him to the Fours the secretary had several interviews with him to bring to light his knaveries, and to oblige him to cancel a goodly number of illegal agreements.  He confessed to me himself that he had bought of M. Domenico Micheli the right to moneys which could not belong to the buyer till after the father of the seller was dead.  “It’s true,” said he, “that he agreed to give me fifty per cent., but you must consider that if he died before his father I should lose all.”  At last, seeing that my cursed fellow did not go, I determined to light my lamp again after having made him promise to observe secrecy.  He only kept his promise while he was with me, as Lawrence knew all about it, but luckily he attached no importance to the fact.

This unwelcome guest was a true burden to me, as he not only prevented me from working for my escape but also from reading.  He was troublesome, ignorant, superstitious, a braggart, cowardly, and sometimes like a madman.  He would have had me cry, since fear made him weep, and he said over and over again that this imprisonment would ruin his reputation.  On this count I reassured him with a sarcasm he did not understand.  I told him that his reputation was too well known to suffer anything from this little misfortune, and he took that for a compliment.  He would not confess to being a miser, but I made him admit that if the Inquisitors would give him a hundred sequins for every day of his imprisonment he would gladly pass the rest of his life under the Leads.

He was a Talmudist, like all modern Jews, and he tried to make me believe that he was very devout; but I once extracted a smile of approbation from him by telling him that he would forswear Moses if the Pope would make him a cardinal.  As the son of a rabbi he was learned in all the ceremonies of his religion, but like most men he considered the essence of a religion to lie in its discipline and outward forms.

This Jew, who was extremely fat, passed three-quarters of his life in bed; and though he often dozed in the daytime, he was annoyed at not being able to sleep at night—­all the more as he saw that I slept excellently.  He once took it into his head to wake me up as I was enjoying my sleep.

“What do you want?” said I; “waking me up with a start like this.”

“My dear fellow, I can’t sleep a wink.  Have compassion on me and let us have a little talk.”

“You scoundrel!  You act thus and you dare to call yourself my friend!  I know your lack of sleep torments you, but if you again deprive me of the only blessing I enjoy I will arise and strangle you.”

I uttered these words in a kind of transport.

“Forgive me, for mercy’s sake! and be sure that I will not trouble you again.”