At the University of Coimbra, where I had been invited to give a lecture, a professor of the history of law with whom I was having dinner in a small wine bar after my lecture said that on the day of the so-called First Revolution all the members of his faculty had been hanged in the university’s so-called natural history room because they refused to declare their solidarity with the revolutionaries of the day. Two years later, on the day of the so-called Second Revolution, those who had hanged his colleagues two years earlier were hanged in the very same natural history room. In answer to my question as to why he himself was still alive, he replied that he had foreseen everything that he had related to me—and which was actually true—in a dream. He knew that the dream he had had a year before the actual occurrences would become reality and had accepted an invitation, arranged for him by a friend who had been teaching there for some years, to teach for four years in England at the University of Oxford. In the nature of things, he said, he found it depressing that he was still alive and teaching at the University of Coimbra, but he had long since come to terms with this constant depression.