He was immediately handed to the front, to speak to him.
'First, he wants some water,' said he, looking round.

(A dozen good fellows dispersed to get it.) 'Are you badly hurt, my friend ?' he asked the man on the litter, in Italian.
'Yes, sir; yes, yes, yes.

It's my leg, it's my leg.

But it pleases me to hear the old music, though I am very bad.' 'You are a traveller! Stay! See, the water! Let me give you some.' They had rested the litter on a pile of paving stones.

It was at a convenient height from the ground, and by stooping he could lightly raise the head with one hand and hold the glass to his lips with the other.