The refusal of permission to stay in Berlin came upon me like a thunderclap. The ultimate object of all my hopes and wishes was all at once removed beyond my reach, just when I had seen it so near. I found myself in the situation of Tantalus, and did not know where to turn for help. I was especially pained by the treatment I received from the overseer of this poorhouse, who, by command of his superiors, urged my speedy departure, and never left off till he saw me outside of the gate. There I threw myself on the ground and began to weep bitterly. It was a Sunday, and many people went, as usual, to walk outside of the city. Most of them never turned aside to a whining worm like me, but some compassionate souls were very much struck with the sight, and asked the cause of my wailing. I answered them; but, partly on account of my unintelligible language, partly because my speech was broken by frequent weeping and sobbing, they could not understand what I said. I was so deeply affected by this vexation, that I fell into a violent fever. The soldiers, who kept guard at the gate, reported this at the poorhouse. The overseer came, and carried me in. I stayed there over the day, and made myself glad with the hope of becoming thoroughly sick, so as to enforce a longer sojourn in the place, during which I thought I might form some acquaintances, by whose influence I hoped to receive protection and permission to remain in Berlin. But alas! in this hope I was deceived. The following day I rose quite lively again without a trace of fever. I was therefore obliged to go. But whither? That I did not know myself. Accordingly I took the first road that I came upon, and surrendered myself to fate. CHAPTER XXII. Deepest Stage of Misery, and Deliverance. In the evening I came to an inn, where I met a poor tramp who was a Jewish beggar by profession. I was uncommonly pleased to meet one of my brethren, with whom I could talk, and to whom this neighbourhood was pretty well known. I resolved therefore to wander about the country with this companion, and to preserve my life in this way, though two such heterogeneous persons were nowhere to be met with in the world. I was an educated rabbi; he was an idiot. I had hitherto maintained myself in an honourable way; he was a beggar by profession. I had ideas of morality, propriety, and decency; he knew nothing of these. Finally, I was in sound health, it is true, but still of weakly constitution; he, on the other hand, was a sturdy, able-bodied fellow, who would have made the best of soldiers.