ing the
university--two thousand are studying medicine.

_Scip._ And what do you infer from that?

_Berg._ I infer either that those two thousand doctors will have
patients to treat, and that would be a woful thing, or that they must
die of hunger.

_Scip._ Be that as it may, let us talk, portent or no portent; for what
heaven has ordained to happen, no human diligence or wit can prevent.
Nor is it needful that we should fall to disputing as to the how or the
why we talk. Better will it be to make the best of this good clay or
good night at home; and since we enjoy it so much on these mats, and
know not how long this good fortune of ours may last, let us take
advantage of it and talk all night, without suffering sleep to deprive
us of a pleasure which I, for my part, have so long desired.

_Berg._ And I, too; for ever since I had strength enough to gnaw a bone
I have longed for the power of speech, that I might utter a multitude of
things I had laid up in my memory, and which lay there so long that they
were growing musty or almost forgotten. Now, however, that I see myself
so unexpectedly enriched with this divine gift of speech, I intend to
enjoy it and avail myself of it as much as I can, taking pains to say
everything I can recollect, though it be confusedly and helter-skelter,
not knowing when this blessing, which I regard as a loan, shall be
reclaimed from me.

_Scip._ Let us proceed in this manner, friend Berganza: to-night you
shall relate the history of your life to me, and the perils through
which you have passed to the present hour; and to-morrow night, if we
still have speech, I will recount mine to you; for it will be better to
spend the time in narrating our own lives than in trying to know those
of others.

_Berg._ I have ever looked upon you, Scipio, as a discreet dog and a
friend, and now I do so more than ever, since, as a friend, you desire
to tell me your adventures and know mine; and, as a discreet dog, you
apportion the time in which we may narrate them. But first observe
whether any one overhears us.

_Scip._ No one, I believe; since hereabouts there is a soldier going
through a sweating-course; but at this time of night he will be more
disposed to sleep than to listen to anything.

_Berg._ Since then we can speak so securely, hearken; and if I tire you
with what I say, either check me or bid me hold my tongue.

_Scip._ Talk till dawn, or till we are heard, and I will listen to you
wit