like a lord, with a cross on my breast, took me for a cosmopolitan charlatan who was expected at Augsburg, and Bassi, strange to say, did not undeceive them.  When the company had taken off its stage rags and put on its everyday rags, Bassi’s ugly wife took me by the arm and said I must come and sup with her.  I let myself be led, and we soon got to just the kind of room I had imagined.  It was a huge room on the ground floor, which served for kitchen, dining-room, and bedroom all at once.  In the middle stood a long table, part of which was covered with a cloth which looked as if it had been in use for a month, and at the other end of the room somebody was washing certain earthenware dishes in a dirty pan.  This den was lighted by one candle stuck in the neck of a broken bottle, and as there were no snuffers Bassi’s wife snuffed it cleverly with her finger and thumb, wiping her hand on the table-cloth after throwing the burnt wick on the floor.  An actor with long moustaches, who played the villain in the various pieces, served an enormous dish of hashed-up meat, swimming in a sea of dirty water dignified with the name of sauce; and the hungry family proceeded to tear pieces of bread off the loaf with their fingers or teeth, and then to dip them in the dish; but as all did the same no one had a right to be disgusted.  A large pot of ale passed from hand to hand, and with all this misery mirth displayed itself on every countenance, and I had to ask myself what is happiness.  For a second course there was a dish of fried pork, which was devoured with great relish.  Bassi was kind enough not to press me to take part in this banquet, and I felt obliged to him.

The meal over, he proceeded to impart to me his adventures, which were ordinary enough, and like those which many a poor devil has to undergo; and while he talked his pretty daughter sat on my knee.  Bassi brought his story to an end by saying that he was going to Venice for the carnival, and was sure of making a lot of money.  I wished him all the luck he could desire, and on his asking me what profession I followed the fancy took me to reply that I was a doctor.

“That’s a better trade than mine,” said he, “and I am happy to be able to give you a valuable present.”

“What is that?” I asked.

“The receipt for the Venetian Specific, which you can sell at two florins a pound, while it will only cost you four gros.”

“I shall be delighted; but tell me, how is the treasury?”

“Well, I can’t complain for a first night.  I have paid all expenses, and have given my actors a florin apiece.  But I am sure I don’t know how I am to play to-morrow, as the company has rebelled; they say they won’t act unless I give each of them a florin in advance.”

“They don’t ask very much, however.”

“I know that, but I have no money, and nothing to pledge; but they will be sorry for it afterwards, as I am sure I shall make at least fifty florins to-morrow.”