Myself.—­And whither are you bound at present?

Abarbenel.—­To Toledo, where I ply my trade occasionally of longanizero.  I love to wander about, though I seldom stray far from home.  Since I left the Englishman my feet have never once stepped beyond the bounds of New Castile.  I love to visit Toledo, and to think of the times which have long since departed; I should establish myself there, were there not so many accursed ones, who look upon me with an evil eye.

Myself.—­Are you known for what you are?  Do the authorities molest you?

Abarbenel.—­People of course suspect me to be what I am; but as I conform outwardly in most respects to their ways, they do not interfere with me.  True it is that sometimes, when I enter the church to hear the mass, they glare at me over the left shoulder, as much as to say—­“What do you here?” And sometimes they cross themselves as I pass by; but as they go no further, I do not trouble myself on that account.  With respect to the authorities, they are not bad friends of mine.  Many of the higher class have borrowed money from me on usury, so that I have them to a certain extent in my power, and as for the low alguazils and corchetes, they would do any thing to oblige me in consideration of a few dollars, which I occasionally give them; so that matters upon the whole go on remarkably well.  Of old, indeed, it was far otherwise; yet, I know not how it was, though other families suffered much, ours always enjoyed a tolerable share of tranquillity.  The truth is, that our family has always known how to guide itself wonderfully.  I may say there is much of the wisdom of the snake amongst us.  We have always possessed friends; and with respect to enemies, it is by no means safe to meddle with us; for it is a rule of our house never to forgive an injury, and to spare neither trouble nor expense in bringing ruin and destruction upon the heads of our evil doers.

Myself.—­Do the priests interfere with you?

Abarbenel.—­They let me alone, especially in our own neighbourhood.  Shortly after the death of my father, one hot-headed individual endeavoured to do me an evil turn, but I soon requited him, causing him to be imprisoned on a charge of blasphemy, and in prison he remained a long time, till he went mad and died.

Myself.—­Have you a head in Spain, in whom is rested the chief authority?

Abarbenel.—­Not exactly.  There are, however, certain holy families who enjoy much consideration; my own is one of these—­the chiefest, I may say.  My grandsire was a particularly holy man; and I have heard my father say, that one night an archbishop came to his house secretly, merely to have the satisfaction of kissing his head.

Myself.—­How can that be; what reverence could an archbishop entertain for one like yourself or your grandsire?