"So now to return to our dreamers," continued the Cripple,----"but I do not consider," he added, "that the mode in which you have consumed the night must have fatigued you. I advise, therefore, that you let me bear you to your home, and leave you to a few hours' sleep. In the meanwhile, I will just take a turn round the earth, and amuse myself after my fashion; taking care to rejoin you by the time you awake, when we will continue our laugh at the expense of the swarming world." "I have no desire to sleep, and am not in the least fatigued," replied Don Cleophas; "so, instead of leaving me, do me the pleasure to expound the various objects which occupy the yawning brains of the persons whom I see already risen, and who are preparing as it seems to me, to leave their houses: what can possibly call them out so early?" "What you ask me is well worth your knowledge," answered the Demon; "you shall gaze on a picture of the cares, the emotions, the anguish that poor mortal man gives himself during life, to occupy, with the vain hope of happiness, the little space which is granted him between the cradle and the tomb." CHAPTER XVII. IN WHICH ORIGINALS ARE SEEN OF WHOM COPIES ARE RIFE. "Observe, in the first place, that troop of beggars which you see already in the street. They are libertines, mostly of good birth, who, like the monks, live on the principle of community of property; and who pass their nights in debauch at their haunts, where they are at all times well supplied with bread, meat, and wine. They are about to separate, each to perform his part in the churches of this godly city; and to-night, when reassembled, they will drink to the charitable fools who piously contribute to their orgies. You cannot but admire these scoundrels, who so well know the semblances which art adopts to inspire pity: why, coquettes are less adept to elicit love. "Look at those three rogues who are walking off together. He who, leaning upon crutches, trembles as he moves, and seems to halt with pain,--who, as he hobbles on, you would momentarily think must fall upon his face,--despite his long white beard and wrinkled front, he is a youthful scamp, so strong and swift, would head the hunted deer. The one beside him, with that awful scald, is a graceful adolescent, whose head is covered with a bladder skin which hides as beauteous curls as ever adorned a courtly page. The third, who gyrates in a bowl, is a comic rascal, that can bring such lamentable noises from his stomach as to move the bowels of all ancient ladies, who even hasten from the topmost floors to his relief.