host, who was drunk, came, greatly to my
dismay, to lie down near me. Disgusted at the idea of having such a
fellow for my bed companion, I refused to let him come, but he answered,
with fearful blasphemies, that all the devils in hell could not prevent
him from taking possession of his own bed. I was forced to make room for
him, and exclaimed "Heavens, where am I?" He told me that I was in the
house of the most honest constable in all the papal states.

Could I possibly have supposed that the peasant would have brought me
amongst those accursed enemies of humankind!

He laid himself down near me, but the filthy scoundrel soon compelled me
to give him, for certain reasons, such a blow in his chest that he rolled
out of bed. He picked himself up, and renewed his beastly attempt. Being
well aware that I could not master him without great danger, I got out of
bed, thinking myself lucky that he did not oppose my wish, and crawling
along as well as I could, I found a chair on which I passed the night. At
day-break, my tormentor, called up by his honest comrades, joined them in
drinking and shouting, and the three strangers, taking their guns,
departed. Left alone by the departure of the vile rabble, I passed
another unpleasant hour, calling in vain for someone. At last a young boy
came in, I gave him some money and he went for a surgeon. The doctor
examined my foot, and assured me that three or four days would set me to
rights. He advised me to be removed to an inn, and I most willingly
followed his counsel. As soon as I was brought to the inn, I went to bed,
and was well cared for, but my position was such that I dreaded the
moment of my recovery. I feared that I should be compelled to sell my
coat to pay the inn-keeper, and the very thought made me feel ashamed. I
began to consider that if I had controlled my sympathy for the young girl
so ill-treated by Stephano, I should not have fallen into this sad
predicament, and I felt conscious that my sympathy had been a mistake. If
I had put up with the faults of the friar, if this and if that, and every
other if was conjured up to torment my restless and wretched brain. Yet I
must confess that the thoughts which have their origin in misfortune are
not without advantage to a young man, for they give him the habit of
thinking, and the man who does not think never does anything right.

The morning of the fourth day came, and I was able to walk, as the
surgeon had predicted; I mad