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"The death of Winckelmann" Trieste 1768 I. The Abbe Winckelmann was at his desk in the hotel, when his new friend Francesco returned, ostensibly in search of his dropped handkerchief. He asked to see, once more, the special medals from Her Holy Empress, and Winckelmann obliged him merrily by waving them like censers in the air. Done with his "fair Antinous" charade, Francesco made his move and pulled a knife, intent on robbery. A fight ensued, and Winckelmann was stabbed at least five times. Some servant, hearing cries, surprised the thief, who fled, with gory hands, into the street and hid himself nearby inside a shed. The Abbe staggered to the balcony, pressing a cloth against his streaming wounds. II. He'd argued that the turbulent Laocoon embodied chaste decorum and restraint. Sedateness was a virtue in itself, for this bookish son of an epileptic cobbler. Gripping the banister, he had become a grisly simulacrum of the statue, peering in desperation, faintly, down into the dim and cavernous hotel. A bustling group of servants mounted toward him on the stairs, some shrieking in their panic, until they reached him finally and hushed, stopping to catch their breath before they tipped him gently down onto a mattress. Then, as though he truly were a wounded king or holy martyr, some fell on their knees, while some like saints or ancient Romans stood and hid their pallid faces in their hands. III. Poor Winckelmann had met his murderer only the week before. Francesco heard him asking about ships, and, butting in, told Winckelmann that he knew of a captain whose brigantine was ready to embark. The two men set out for the quay but went instead to a coffeehouse where both indulged forbidden inclinations. They returned to the hotel and were inseparable thereafter, although both were unforthcoming. ...