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Descriuendo poi il predetto Abilfadai Ismael luoghi della terra habitabile, che circuendo il mar Oceano tocca, dice cosi. Contini delli vltimi Tartari. Alcune Terre Incognite. The same in English. The aforesaid Abilfada Ismael describing afterward the habitable places of the earth, which the Ocean sea in his circuit toucheth, sayth in this manner following. The coasts of the vttermost Tartars.
"Weep, Pistoja," says Petrarch, in not the least musical of his perfect sonnets, in celebrating the death of his master "Pianga Pistoia e i cittadin perversi Che perdut' hanno si dolce vicino; E rallegres' il ciel or' ello è gito."
Disc. i. 12, after exposing the shams on which, as he believed, the religious institutions of Numa rested, asserts that, however much governors may be persuaded of the falseness of religions, it is their duty to maintain them: 'e debbono ... come che le giudicassero false, favorirle e accrescerle. It was precisely what Luther was designing while Machiavelli was writing.
Then the wild beams began to play on the canal, following the serenata, lighting up now the palaces on either hand, now some single gondola, revealing every figure and gesture of the laughing English or Americans who filled it, in a hard white flash. "Oh! listen, Kitty!" said Margaret. "Some one is going to sing 'Ché faro."
But Rosamond could also sing "Black-eyed Susan" with effect, or Haydn's canzonets, or "Voi, che sapete," or "Batti, batti" she only wanted to know what her audience liked. Her father looked round at the company, delighting in their admiration.
"Che va piano va sano," said the Italian, jingling the four napoleons in his pocket, which had been six on yesterday morning. Then they sauntered up to the Englishman, and both of them touched their hats to him. The Englishman just acknowledged the compliment, and walked off with his companion, who was still whispering something into his ear.
Tanta è la tua virtu che ció che vuoi Dello invitto cuor disponer puoi."
In a corner sat Sandro, playing a game at mora by himself, and watching the slow reply of his left fingers to the arithmetical demands of his right with solemn-eyed interest. Treading with the gentlest step, Tito snatched up the lute, and bending over the barber, touched the strings lightly while he sang "Quant' e bella giovinezza, Che si fugge tuttavia!
Francesca was always silent and irritable, lived beside me rather than with me, responded to all my desires, all my demands, and all my propositions with her perpetual Che mi fa, or with her no less perpetual Mica. My friend got more and more furious, but my only answer was, "You can go if you are tired of staying. I am not detaining you."
After tea, however, when Hermione was sitting alone in the little garden with a book, he said to her bluntly: "Che ha Lei?" Hermione put the book down in her lap. "That is just what I don't know, Gaspare." "Perhaps you are not well." "But I believe I am, perfectly well. You know I am always well. I never even have fever. And you have that sometimes." He continued to look at her searchingly.
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