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On the 14th, so the last paragraph informs us, "The condemned" Luigi Bonci "was beheaded by the public executioner, in the market-place of Perugia, and his head was there exposed for an hour to the gaze of the assembled multitude." On the 18th the report, from which these facts are taken, was placarded on the walls of Rome.
She wrote asking me to receive her there, telling me that she intended to give up her claim to the throne and marry Luigi del Farno, whom she sincerely loved. I sent her a long letter warning her against the step for I knew what it meant and advising her that I was even then preparing to leave for America.
The street-urchins warned Luigi of the intruder among his wares, and then, slyly putting up his hand, the boy tossed the seeds in a shower about the tray. Off flew the dove, and back with the returning gust she fluttered, and, pausing only to catch her seed, she came and went, wheeling in flashing circles round his head as he pursued his path.
A very beautiful invention, also, was that of Luigi Martelli, when, being master of the Company, he gave them supper in the house of Giuliano Scali at the Porta Pinti; for he represented Mars all smeared with blood, to signify his cruelty, in a room full of bloody human limbs; in another room he showed Mars and Venus naked in a bed, and a little farther on Vulcan, who, having covered them with the net, was calling all the Gods to see the outrage done to him by Mars and by his sorry spouse.
For an indignant instant Eve felt her seclusion unwarrantably violated; she turned upon the invader with her blushes, and the venturesome Luigi blenched before the gaze. Still, though he retreated, a part of him remained: a slender brown hand, that stretched back in relief against the white door-post, yet suspended the pretty rosary; and there it caught Eve's eye.
We looked after her until she had reached the door and had flung herself across the threshold. Then I sent Luigi for my easel and began work. The events that have made the greatest impression upon me all my life have been those which have dropped out of the sky, the unexpected, the incomprehensible, the unnecessary the fool things the damnably idiotic things.
The young sculptor sat at the same board as Marsilio Ficino, interpreter of Plato; Pico della Mirandola, the phoenix of Oriental erudition; Angelo Poliziano, the unrivalled humanist and melodious Italian poet; Luigi Pulci, the humorous inventor of burlesque romance with artists, scholars, students innumerable, all in their own departments capable of satisfying a youth's curiosity, by explaining to him the particular virtues of books discussed, or of antique works of art inspected.
Ginevra glanced around the studio, and not seeing Laure, opened the door; but as she did so Luigi caught sight of the little pupil and abruptly retired. Surprised at his action, Ginevra looked round, saw Laure, and said, as she went up to the girl's easel: "You are staying late, my dear. That head seems to me finished; you only want a high-light, see! on that knot of hair."
Do you mean to tell me that blood of my race has suffered a blow and crawled to a court of law about it? Answer me!" Tom's head drooped, and he answered with an eloquent silence. His uncle stared at him with a mixed expression of amazement and shame and incredulity that was sorrowful to see. At last he said: "Which of the twins was it?" "Count Luigi." "You have challenged him?"
Bartolomeo seemed dazed for a moment, but he recovered his coolness instantly, and replied: "The marriage will not take place in my lifetime; I will never consent to it." Ginevra kept silence. "Ginevra," continued the baron, "have you reflected that Luigi is the son of the man who killed your brother?"
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