He would return to Venice in disguise, and would exert all his cunning to compass the death of these wretches--or at least of whomever it was that had conceived the despicable design.
Was Bragadino the prime culprit?
Why not?
An old man so lost to all sense of shame that he had dared to write such a letter to Casanova; a dotard who could actually believe that Casanova, whom he had personally known, would set his hand to this ignominious task.

He no longer knew Casanova! Nor did anyone know him, in Venice or elsewhere.

But people should learn to know him once more.
It was true that he was no longer young enough or handsome enough to seduce an honest girl.

Nor did he now possess the skill and the agility requisite for an escape from prison, or for gymnastic feats upon the roof-tops.

But in spite of his age, he was cleverer than anyone else! Once back in Venice, he could do anything he pleased.