He is sitting up too, look. It is an anxious time with him; he is reckoning his interest. His fingers ate worn to the bone. Presently he will have to leave all this, and become a cockroach, or a gnat, or a bluebottle.

Senseless brute! it will hardly be a change for the worse. He, like Simon, is pretty well thinned down by his calculations, Let us try some one else.

What about your friend Eucrates? See, the door stands open; let us go in.

An hour ago, all this was mine!

Still the golden dream!—Look at the hoary old reprobate: with one of his own slaves!

Monstrous! And his wife is not much better; she takes her paramour from the kitchen.

Well? Is the inheritance to your liking? will you have i it all?

I will starve first. Good-bye to gold and high living. Preserve me from my own servants, and I will call myself rich on twopence-halfpenny.

Well, well, we must be getting home; see, it is just dawn, The rest must wait for another day.