And once there, kind people like you and Monsieur le Medecin tend him and wash him, and put his entrails back, and sew him up again.

He thinks it so kind of them--the first time.

But the second! He understands.

He will be sent back into the arena to be ripped up again, and again after that.

This is the third time I have been wounded, and as soon as you've all patched me up and I've got my breath again, they'll send me back into it.