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"Oh, verily!" said she and forthwith began singing in her deep, rich voice: "There's a fine Spanish dame And Joanna's her name Shall follow wherever you go " "Aha, and mark this, Martino: "Till your black heart shall feel Your own cursed steel Black Bartlemy Bartlemy, ho!" "But this was my mother " "Ha she that stabbed and killed the pirate Bartlemy ere he slew her? But she was a Spanish lady."
This removed the last obstacle, and Italian troops immediately occupied the city. At the same time other troops took up the pursuit of the retreating Austrians. The latter delayed these operations as much as possible by rear-guard actions and by counterattacks against the new Italian positions on Monte San Michele and against the village of San Martino, just south of the mountain.
But putting that aside, will your worship tell me what are we to do with this dapple-grey steed that looks like a grey ass, which that Martino that your worship overthrew has left deserted here? for, from the way he took to his heels and bolted, he is not likely ever to come back for it; and by my beard but the grey is a good one."
Coming so quickly upon the heels of the victories of Solferino and San Martino, it is no marvel that what stunned Italy should have almost killed Mrs. Browning. That it hastened her into the grave is beyond a doubt, as she never fully shook off the severe attack of illness occasioned by this check upon her life-hopes.
"The moon is wondrous bright, friend," said he, staring up at it, "but so have I seen it many a night; but mark this, never in all our days shall we see again the like o' her that sleeps, Martino, that sleeps below here!" And here he falls to soft mutterings and to patting that small mound of sand again. "Come!" said I at last, touching his bowed shoulder. "Come!"
Martino is not like ordinary men and so it is I do most truly love him yes for always. So do I take him for mine now, so shall lie become truth, mayhap. And even as I refolded this letter, my lady's arms were about me, her lovely head upon my shoulder: "Dear," said she, "'twas like you to speak no harsh thing of the dead.
The ancestors or rather, the elders of Bartolommeo di Jacopo di Martino, the father of Jacopo da Pontormo, whose Life we are now about to write had their origin, so some declare, in Ancisa, a township in the Upper Valdarno, famous enough because from it the ancestors of Messer Francesco Petrarca likewise derived their origin.
My Lord, forgive my abruptness." "Whither art thou bent, then?" asked Raimond. "Whither whither! Ay, I forgot, my Lord, you have no sister. Perhaps too, you had no brother? No, no; one victim at least I will live to save. Whither, you ask me? to the palace of Martino di Porto." "To an Orsini alone, and for justice?" "Alone, and for justice!
"Oh, Englishman!" cried she. "Oh, sluggard soul how like, how very like thee, Martino!" Then, laughing yet, she turned and left me to stare after her in frowning wonderment. "I was born, sir, in Kent in England exactly thirty years ago, and being the last of my family 'tis very sure that family shall become a name soon to be forgotten " "But you, Senor, so young " "But ancient in suffering, sir."
For the Church of S. Martino the same master painted a large altar-piece with Christ born and being adored by the Virgin, by Joseph, and by the Shepherds; and above the hut is a most beautiful choir of Angels dancing.
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