nt will be severe, for who would have thought he could have
presumed so far? As for me, I am now, sad to say, grown old, and enjoy
some few privileges of this description, which I relish, though despising
myself, and still more those who thus indulge me.

After she had gone I went to sleep again, hoping to see her in the
evening. When I awoke I heard that the abbot of Einsiedel was at Zurich,
and my landlord told me that his reverend highness would dine with me in
my room. I told him that I wished to treat the abbot well, and that he
must set the best dinner he could for us.

At noon the worthy prelate was shewn up to my room, and began by
complimenting me on the good reputation I had at Zurich, saying that this
made him believe that my vocation was a real one.

"The following distich," he added, "should now become your motto:
"Inveni portum. Spes et fortuna valete;
Nil mihi vobiscum est: ludite nuns alios."

"That is a translation of two verses from Euripides," I answered; "but,
my lord, they will not serve me, as I have changed my mind since
yesterday."

"I congratulate you," said he, "and I hope you will accomplish all your
desires. I may tell you confidentially that it is much easier to save
one's soul in the world where one can do good to one's neighbours, than
in the convent, where a man does no good to himself nor to anyone else."

This was not speaking like the hypocrite Guistiniani had described to me;
on the contrary, it was the language of a good and sensible man.

We had a princely dinner, as my landlord had made each of the three
courses a work of art. The repast was enlivened by an interesting
conversation, to which wit and humour were not lacking. After coffee I
thanked the abbot with the greatest respect, and accompanied him to his
carriage, where the reverend father reiterated his offers of serving me,
and thus, well pleased with one another, we parted.

The presence and the conversation of this worthy priest had not for a
moment distracted my thoughts from the pleasing object with which they
were occupied. So soon as the abbot had gone, I went to the bridge to
await the blessed angel, who seemed to have been sent from Soleure with
the express purpose of delivering me from the temptation to become a
monk, which the devil had put into my heart. Standing on the bridge I
built many a fine castle in Spain, and about six in the evening I had the
pleasure of seeing my fair traveller once more. I