At the hour previously fixed upon, Philipo di Brunelesco entered the room where he was, with six of his companions, and seeing him fast asleep, they took him and placed him on a sort of litter, with all his clothes, and carried him home. No one being at home, as it happened that his mother had not returned, they took him to his bed and placed him in it; they put his clothes where he was in the habit of depositing them, but instead of laying him at the head of the bed, they placed his head at the foot. This being done, they took the key of the shop that was hanging on a nail in the room, and they marched into the shop, where they took the tools he used to work with, and displaced them all from their usual places; turned the sharp edges of the planes topsy-turvy; the hammers on their wrong side; the saws, and, in short, every corner of his shop was ransacked and all things turned upside-down. The shop looked as if the devil and all his imps had been at work. Having locked the shop door, they carried the key to Grasso’s room, and shutting the door after them, each of them went home to bed. Grasso, in a deep sleep from the effect of the opium, slept on the whole night without ever waking. In the morning, at the ringing of Santa Maria del Fiore, the beverage having taken its due effect, Grasso awoke; it being day-light, and recollecting the sound of the bell, he opened his eyes, and seeing the light in the room, and looking about him, he became persuaded he was in his own house, and recollecting all that had happened to him, he was full of astonishment. Remembering where he had gone to bed the night before, and where he then was, he began to think he had been dreaming, or was at that instant in a dream: the one seemed to be the fact at one time, and the next at another.
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After a deep sigh from his heart, “Heaven help me,” said he. Getting out of bed, and dressing himself, he took the key of the shop and went to it, and on opening it he saw all the shop in the greatest disorder, at which he stared with wonder. While he was setting them all to rights, and in their proper places, the two brothers of Matteo came in, and finding him so busy, seeming not to know him, one of them said, “Good morning, friend.” Grasso turning round, looked at them, and recognizing them, said, “Good morning, good morning, what are you come for?”
“I will tell you,” said one of them. “You know we have a brother called Matteo, who within a few days, owing to his being imprisoned for debt, has fallen into such a melancholy fit, that it has almost made him mad; and among other foolish things, he has got it into his head that he is not Matteo, but the master of this shop, who it seems is called Grasso. Upon which, having talked to him on the subject, and likewise the priest of the parish, who is a very good sort of man, he had promised the latter he would give up this foolish whim. He went to bed last night very cheerful while we were at supper, but, this morning, without our hearing him, he went out, nor do we know where he is gone; for this reason we came to see if perchance he had come here, or you could tell us if you know any thing of him.” Grasso, while the man was speaking, was bewildered; at last, turning towards them, he said, “I know not what the devil you are talking about, or what all this nonsense means. Matteo has not been here, and if he said he was I, he is a great rascal, and, by my soul, if I meet with him I’ll have a brush at him: I’ll know whether he be I, or I am he. What the deuce has happened within these few days?” and, in a great rage, he took up his mantle, and pulling the shop-door after him, he left them and went towards St. Maria del Fiore, swearing all the way.
