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The doors were thrown open Contarino entered hastily, enveloped in

his cloak

"Good evening, sweet gentlemen," said he, and threw his mantle

aside And Memmo, Parozzi, and Falieri started back in horror

"Good God!" they exclaimed, "what has happened? You are covered

with blood?"

"A trifle!" cried Contarino; "is that wine? quick, give oblet

of it, I expire with thirst"

Falieri (while he gives him a cup)--But, Contarino, you bleed?

Contarino--You need not tell me that I did not do it myself, I

promise you

Parozzi--First let us bind up your wounds, and then tell us what

has happened to you It is as well that the servants should reeon myself

Contarino--What has happened to entleain

Memmo--I can scarcely breathe for terror

Contarino--Very possibly; neither should I, were I Me Contarino The wound bleeds plenteously it's true, but it's

by no erous (he tore open his doublet, and uncovered his

bosom) There, look, comrades; you see it's only a cut of not )--Mercy on ht of it ht ointments and linen, and bound up the wound of his

associate

Contarino--Old Horace is in the right A philosopher can be

anything he pleases, a cobbler, a king, or a physician Only