There was something very peculiar in the sound of that bueno—­I never forgot it.

Thereupon a conversation ensued between Rabbi Manasseh and the Armenian, in a language which I knew to be Spanish, though a peculiar dialect.  It related to a mercantile transaction.  The Rabbi sighed heavily as he delivered to the other a considerable sum of money.

‘It is right,’ said the Armenian, handing a receipt.  ’It is right; and I am quite satisfied.’

’You are satisfied—­you have taken money. Bueno, I have nothing to say against your being satisfied.’

‘Come, Rabbi,’ said the Armenian, ’do not despond; it may be your turn next to take money; in the meantime, can’t you be persuaded to taste my Cyprus?’

’He—­he—­he! senor, you know I do not love wine.  I love Noah when he is himself; but, as Janus, I love him not.  But you are merry; bueno, you have a right to be so.’

‘Excuse me,’ said I; ‘but does Noah ever appear as Janus?’

‘He—­he—­he!’ said the Rabbi, ’he only appeared as Janus once—­una vez quando estuvo borracho; which means—­’

‘I understand,’ said I; ‘when he was . . .’ and I drew the side of my right hand sharply across my left wrist.

‘Are you one of our people?’ said the Rabbi.

‘No,’ said I, ’I am one of the Goyim; but I am only half enlightened.  Why should Noah be Janus when he was in that state?’

‘He—­he—­he! you must know that in Lasan akhades wine is janin.’

‘In Armenian, kini,’ said I; ’in Welsh, gwin; Latin, vinum; but do you think that Janus and janin are one?’

’Do I think?  Don’t the commentators say so?  Does not Master Leo Abarbenel say so in his Dialogues of Divine Love’?

‘But,’ said I, ’I always thought that Janus was a god of the ancient Romans, who stood in a temple open in time of war, and shut in time of peace; he was represented with two faces, which—­which—­’

‘He—­he—­he!’ said the Rabbi, rising from his seat; ’he had two faces, had he?  And what did those two faces typify?  You do not know; no, nor did the Romans who carved him with two faces know why they did so; for they were only half enlightened, like you and the rest of the Goyim.  Yet they were right in carving him with two faces looking from each other—­they were right, though they knew not why; there was a tradition among them that the Janinoso had two faces, but they knew not that one was for the world which was gone and the other for the world before him—­for the drowned world and for the present, as Master Leo Abarbenel says in his Dialogues of Divine Love.  He—­he—­he!’ continued the Rabbi, who had by this time advanced to the door, and, turning round, waved the two forefingers of his right hand in our faces; ’the Goyims and Epicouraiyim are clever men, they know how to make money better than we of Israel.  My good friend there is a clever man, I bring him money, he never brought me any; bueno, I do not blame him, he knows much, very much; but one thing there is my friend does not know, nor any of the Epicureans, he does not know the sacred thing—­he has never received the gift of interpretation which God alone gives to the seed—­he has his gift, I have mine—­he is satisfied, I don’t blame him, bueno.’