been seized with my former illness; but this was no illusion. The
light shone through the north window, under which I then lay.

I started up, seized my table, placed it on my bed, and a chair
again upon the table, by means of all which I mounted up, and beheld
one of the most terrific spectacles of fire that can be imagined.
It was not more than a musket shot distant from our prison; it
proceeded from the establishment of the public ovens, and the
edifice was entirely consumed.

The night was exceedingly dark, and vast globes of flame spouted
forth on both sides, borne away by a violent wind. All around, it
seemed as if the sky rained sparks of fire. The adjacent lake
reflected the magnificent sight; numbers of gondolas went and came,
but my sympathy was most excited at the danger and terrors of those
who resided nearest to the burning edifice. I heard the far off
voices of men and women calling to each other. Among others, I
caught the name of Angiola, and of this doubtless there are some
thousands in Venice: yet I could not help fearing it might be the
one of whom the recollection was so sweet to me. Could it be her?--
was she surrounded by the flames? how I longed to fly to her rescue.

Full of excitement, wonder, and terror, I stood at the window till
the day dawned, I then got down oppressed by a feeling of deep
sorrow, and imagined much greater misfortune than had really
occurred. I was informed by Tremerello that only the ovens and the
adjoining magazine had suffered, the loss consisting chiefly of corn
and sacks of flour.