turn round, this somebody had passed, and I merely saw a shadow hovering
along the houses. I perceived that these words did not concern me, but
rather the cloak, yet it gave me no explanation concerning the affair.
On the following morning I considered what was to be done. At first I
had intended to have the cloak cried in the streets, as if I had found
it. But then the stranger might send for it by a third person, and thus
no light would be thrown upon the matter. Whilst I was thus thinking,
I examined the cloak more closely. It was made of thick Genoese velvet,
scarlet in color, edged with Astrachan fur and richly embroidered with
gold. The magnificent appearance of the cloak put a thought into my mind
which I resolved to carry out.

I carried it into my shop and exposed it for sale, but placed such a
high price upon it that I was sure nobody would buy it. My object in
this was to scrutinize everybody sharply who might ask for the fur
cloak; for the figure of the stranger, which I had seen but
superficially, though with some certainty, after the loss of the cloak,
I should recognize amongst a thousand. There were many would-be
purchasers for the cloak, the extraordinary beauty of which attracted
everybody; but none resembled the stranger in the slightest degree, and
nobody was willing to pay such a high price as two hundred sequins for
it. What astonished me was that on asking somebody or other if there was
not such a cloak in Florence, they all answered "No," and assured me
they never had seen so precious and tasteful a piece of work.

Evening was drawing near, when at last a young man appeared, who had
already been to my place, and who had also offered me a great deal for
the cloak. He threw a purse with sequins upon the table, and exclaimed:
"Of a truth, Zaleukos, I must have thy cloak, should I turn into a
beggar over it!" He immediately began to count his pieces of gold. I was