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XXXV

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    WHENitwasnightandthepiazzadeserted,AndreaandIandtheoldstewardwentoutandmadeourwaytotheplacewherethehorriblecorpsewaslying.Wewrappeditinalongblackclothandtookitupsilently,bearingittothechurchwhereforgenerationstheOrsihadbeenburied.Adark-robedmonkmetusinthenaveandledthewaytoadoor,whichheopenedthen,asiffrightened,leftus.Wefoundourselvesinthecloisters.Welaidthebodydownunderanarchandadvancedintothecentre,wherewasaplotofgreenscatteredoverwithlittlecrosses.Wetookspadesandbegantodigathinraindrizzleddownandthegroundwasstiffandclayey.ItwashardworkandIsweatedItookoffmycoatandallowedtheraintofallonmeunprotectedIwassoonwettotheskin.SilentlyAndreaandIturnedupthesoil,whilePietro,beneaththecloisters,watchedbythebodyandprayed.Wewerekneedeepnow,andstillwethrewupheavyspadefulsofclay.AtlastIsaid,— 'Itisenough.' Weclimbedoutandwenttothebody.Wetookitupandboreittothegrave,andreverentlywelaiditin.Pietroplacedacrucifixontheoldmaster'sbreast,andthenwebegantopileintheearth. Andsowithoutpriests,withoutmourning,inthedeadofnight,andbythedrizzlingrain,wasburiedOrsoOrsi,thegreatheadofthefamily.Inhistimehehadbeenexcellentinwarandinalltheartsofpeace.Hehadbeennotedforhisskillincommerceinpoliticshehadbeenthefirstofhiscity,and,besides,hehadbeenagreatandgenerouspatronofthearts.Buthelivedtoolong,anddiedthusmiserably. NextdayIseta
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