Having returned to the inn, and finding myself at a loss how to employ my time, I amused myself by looking over three gentlemen who were at cards. I seated myself at the side of one of them, and observed his game; and, by a whim common enough to the human mind, felt myself insensibly more concerned in his behalf than for the two others. When he lost I felt sorry, and when he won I was as glad as if I was entitled to a share of his gains. Fortune was for a long time doubtful between the three players, though the money flew about among them in plenty. They had each at least thirty pistoles before them, and played for large stakes. The one whom I felt interested for seemed to know the least of the game, and was consequently soon the loser, when the company grew warm, and the bets began to run high, I longed mightily to advise; and though I knew that would not be fair, I could scarcely resist when I perceived that he had lost almost all his money. At length he lost the last farthing; after which he rose and left the room, telling the company he would procure more money, and should expect his revenge after supper. By what I afterwards learnt, this young man had just arrived at Bologna, to take his degrees in the civil law, for which purpose his friends had supplied him with sixty pistoles, which he had thus quickly got rid of, without having obtained even his doctor’s cap. One of the two gentlemen who had so completely emptied his pockets was one of his fellow-students, a nobleman of Bologna, and the other had the appearance of a French officer. This latter was somewhat older than his comrades, and the most skilful of the three. The French are no fools at gaming, though they sometimes meet with persons of other nations who trim them in their turns.