Gods of Olympus, how they winked! The gracious king assisted us: he sent us twice a year a living criminal condemned to die, and said, 'Deal ye with him as science asks; dissect him alive, if ye think fit.'" "By the liver of Herod, and Nero's bowels, he'll make me blush for the land that bore me, an' if he praises it any more," shouted Denys at the top of his voice.
Gerard gave a little squawk, and put his fingers in his ears; but speedily drew them out and shouted angrily, and as loudly, "you great roaring, blaspheming bull of Basan, hold your noisy tongue!" Denys summoned a contrite look.
"Tush, slight man," said the doctor, with calm contempt, and vibrated a hand over him as in this age men make a pointer dog down charge; then flowed majestic on.

"We seldom or never dissected the living criminal, except in part.

We mostly inoculated them with such diseases as the barren time afforded, selecting of course the more interesting ones." "That means the foulest," whispered Denys meekly.
"These we watched through all their stages to maturity." "Meaning the death of the poor rogue," whispered Denys meekly.
"And now, my poor sufferer, who best merits your confidence, this honest soldier with his youth, his ignorance, and his prejudices, or a greybeard laden with the gathered wisdom of ages ?" "That is," cried Denys impatiently, "will you believe what a jackdaw in a long gown has heard from a starling in a long gown, who heard it from a jay-pie, who heard it from a magpie, who heard it from a popinjay; or will you believe what I, a man with nought to gain by looking awry, nor speaking false, have seen; nor heard with the ears which are given us to gull us, but seen with these sentinels mine eye, seen, seen; to wit, that fevered and blooded men die, that fevered men not blooded live?
stay, who sent for this sang-sue?
Did you ?" "Not I.I thought you had." "Nay," explained the doctor, "the good landlord told me one was 'down' in his house; so I said to myself, 'A stranger, and in need of my art,' and came incontinently." "It was the act of a good Christian, sir." "Of a good bloodhound," cried Denys contemptuously.

"What, art thou so green as not to know that all these landlords are in league with certain of their fellow-citizens, who pay them toll on each booty?
Whatever you pay this ancient for stealing your life blood, of that the landlord takes his third for betraying you to him.

Nay, more, as soon as ever your blood goes down the stair in that basin there, the landlord will see it or smell it, and send swiftly to his undertaker and get his third out of that job.