Prometheus went to see Damocles; and then he went very often. He did
not talk to him every time; but in any case the waiter gave him the
news. One day he brought Cocles with him.
The waiter received them.
--Well, how is he? asked Prometheus.
--Bad. Very bad, replied the waiter. For three days the miserable man
has not been able to take any food. His bank-note torments him; he
looks for it everywhere; he thinks he may have eaten it;--he takes a
purgative and thinks to find it in his stool. When his reason returns
and he remembers his adventure, he is again in despair. He has a grudge
against you, Cocles, because he thinks you have so complicated his debt
that he no longer knows where he is. Most of the time he is delirious.
At night there are three of us to watch him, but he keeps leaping upon
his bed, which prevents us sleeping.
--Can we see him? said Cocles.
--Yes, but you will find him changed. He is devoured by anxiety. He has
become thin, thin, thin. Will you recognize him?--And will he recognize
you?
They entered on the tips of their toes.