Parte,  Chap.

1   I,   Commend|    thine~ Phoebus of Spain, marvel of courtesy,~ Nor with thy
2   I,      XLVI|     to move, and could only marvel and wonder at the strange
3   I,     XLVII| perfumed as Sancho said.~ ~"Marvel not at that, Sancho my friend,"
4  II,     XXIII| time is not far off. What I marvel at is, that I know it to
5  II,     LVIII|  and said to his master, "I marvel, senor, at the boldness
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