He won all the gold on the table, and this did not suffice.

The senators had to give him notes of hand.

They lost their possessions, their palaces, their purple robes; they were beggars; they crawled round him clad in rags, kissing his hands.
Nearby, in a hall with crimson hangings, there was music and dancing.
Casanova wished to dance with Marcolina, but she had vanished.

Once again the senators in their purple robes were seated at the table; but now Casanova knew that the hazards at stake were not those of a game of cards; he knew that the destinies of accused persons, some criminal and some innocent, hung in the balance.
What had become of Marcolina?
Had he not been holding her by the hand all the time?
He rushed down the staircase.

The gondola was waiting.
On, on, through the maze of canals.