Finally he fell upon a bench facing another house opposite me.

There he lay still, supported on his elbows, and slept profoundly.
The street was deserted, a dry wind stirred the dust here and there; the moon shone through a rift in the clouds and lighted the spot where the man slept.

So I found myself tete-a-tete with this boor, who, not suspecting my presence, was sleeping on that stone bench as peacefully as if in his own bed.
The man served to divert my grief; I arose to leave him in full possession, but returned and resumed my seat.

I could not leave that fateful door, at which I would not have knocked for an empire.

Finally, after walking up and down a few times, I stopped before the sleeper.
"What sleep!" I said.