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XXXVII

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    heacthowthecrowdhadgatheredtogether,andhowtheyhadbeenbroughttothesquareandhangedfromthePalacewindow,andtheirbodiestorntopiecesbythepeople. 'Oh,God!'utteredChecco.'Andallthisismyfault.' ItoldthemthattheoldOrsowasbroughtforwardandtakentohispalace,andbeforehiseyesitwastorndown,stoneafterstone,tillonlyaheapofruinsmarkedthesite. Checcogaveasob. 'Mypalace,myhome!' Andthen,asiftheblowwastoogreat,hebenthisheadandburstintotears. 'Donotweepyet,Checco,'Isaid.'Youwillhavecausefortearspresently.' Helookedup. 'Whatmore?' 'Yourfather.' 'Filippo!' Hestartedup,andsteppingback,stoodagainstthewall,hisarmsagainstit,outstretched,withwhiteandhaggardfaceandstaringeyes,likeahuntedbeastatbay. Itoldhimhowtheyhadtakenhisfatherandboundhim,andthrownhimdown,andtiedhimtothesavagebeast,andhowhehadbeendraggedalongtillhisbloodspatteredonthepavementandhissoullefthim. Checcoutteredamostawfulgroan,and,lookinguptoheaven,asiftocallitinwitness,cried,— 'Oh,God!' Then,sinkingintoachair,heburiedhisfaceinhishands,andinhisagonyswayedfromsidetoside.Matteowentuptohimandputhishandonhisshoulder,tryingtocomforthimbuthemotionedhimaside. 'Letmebe.' Herosefromhisseat,andwesawthathiseyesweretearless,forhisgriefwastoogreatforweeping.Then,withhishandsbeforehimlikeablindman,hestaggeredtothedoorandleftus. Scipione,theweakman,wascrying.
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