Undoubtedly, every man worthy of the name longs to be free, but who is really free in this world?  No one.  The philosopher, perchance, may be accounted so, but it is at the cost of too precious sacrifices at the phantom shrine of Liberty.

I left the use of my suite of rooms, for which I had paid a month in advance, to Campioni, promising to wait for him at Augsburg, where the Law alone is supreme.  I departed alone carrying with me the bitter regret that I had not been able to kill the monster, whose despotism had crushed me.  I stopped at Linz on purpose to write to Schrotembach even a more bitter letter than that which I had written to the Duke of Wurtemburg in 1760.  I posted it myself, and had it registered so as to be sure of its reaching the scoundrel to whom it had been addressed.  It was absolutely necessary for me to write this letter, for rage that has no vent must kill at last.  From Linz I had a three days’ journey to Munich, where I called on Count Gaetan Zavoicki, who died at Dresden seven years ago.  I had known him at Venice when he was in want, and I had happily been useful to him.  On my relating the story of the robbery that had been committed on me, he no doubt imagined I was in want, and gave me twenty-five louis.  To tell the truth it was much less than what I had given him at Venice, and if he had looked upon his action as paying back a debt we should not have been quits; but as I had never wished him to think that I had lent, not given him money, I received the present gratefully.  He also gave me a letter for Count Maximilian Lamberg, marshal at the court of the Prince-Bishop of Augsburg, whose acquaintance I had the honour of having.

There was no theatre then in Augsburg, but there were masked balls in which all classes mingled freely.  There were also small parties where faro was played for small stakes.  I was tired of the pleasure, the misfortune, and the griefs I had had in three capitals, and I resolved to spend four months in the free city of Augsburg, where strangers have the same privileges as the canons.  My purse was slender, but with the economical life I led I had nothing to fear on that score.  I was not far from Venice, where a hundred ducats were always at my service if I wanted them.  I played a little and waged war against the sharpers who have become more numerous of late than the dupes, as there are also more doctors than patients.  I also thought of getting a mistress, for what is life without love?  I had tried in vain to retrace Gertrude; the engraver was dead, and no one knew what had become of his daughter.

Two or three days before the end of the carnival I went to a hirer of carriages, as I had to go to a ball at some distance from the town.  While the horses were being put in, I entered the room to warm my hands, for the weather was very cold.  A girl came up and asked me if I would drink a glass of wine.

“No,” said I; and on the question being repeated, repeated the monosyllable somewhat rudely.  The girl stood still and began to laugh, and I was about to turn angrily away when she said,—­