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Updated: June 1, 2025
From the grey cliffs of Capri to the west, as far as the headland beside Salerno, stretched this diminutive state, composed of a confederacy of sister-cities, whereof Amalfi herself was the queen and metropolis.
Even if Elgar accompanied him to Amalfi, it would only be for a few days; there was no preventing the fellow's eventual return his visits to the villa, perhaps to Mrs. Gluck's. Again imbecile and insensate What did it all matter? He stopped short. He would sit down and write a letter to Mrs. Baske. A pretty complication, that! What grounds for such a letter as he meditated? The devil!
The sun had run nearly two-thirds of his fiery course, and was gradually sinking his rays in the clear blue waters where Posilippo's head is reflected with its green and flowery crown. A warm, balmy breeze that had passed over the orange trees of Sorrento and Amalfi felt deliciously refreshing to the inhabitants of the capital, who had succumbed to torpor in the enervating softness of the day.
Beautiful as is Majori, it is no lovelier than many another spot upon this exquisite coast; it is but as one pearl in a well-matched necklace, for the country that lies between Amalfi and Salerno is fully as rich in historical interest and natural charm as is the western portion that we have just traversed.
The cult of this Asiatic martyr in Amalfi is of course another legacy of the Republic’s close connection with the Levant, whence some relic-hunting admiral or merchant of the state reverently brought Pantaleone’s bones to the Italian coast.
"She is standing in," they cried, "and, by the Prophet, she seemeth not a ship of the true believers." She was not, but she bore a flag of truce. Pitching and rearing, the little bark bounded in, and soon was fast in harbour. Ere long messengers of peace had landed, bearing presents and a letter from the Bishop of Amalfi to the Emir of Biserta.
"And there is no reason why you ever should." "You seemed to be most tremendously in earnest yesterday, when we were talking about that book," observed Brook on the following afternoon. "Of course I was," answered Clare. "I said just what I thought." They were walking together along the high road which leads from Amalfi towards Salerno.
That, at least, was what a fisherman from Praiano thought, as he turned his hawk-eyes upwards, standing to his oars and paddling slowly along, top-heavy in his tiny boat. But no native of Amalfi ever mistook a foreigner for an angel. Everything was quiet and peaceful again, and there seemed to be neither trace nor memory of the preceding day's invasion.
Ravello undoubtedly owes its early foundation to certain patrician families of Amalfi, which after securing their fortunes decided to leave the hot close city beside the shore, and to seek new homes in the bracing air of the hill-top above.
It is true that the prosperity of Amalfi did not disappear immediately after the inroad of the Pisans, for Boccaccio, writing in the fourteenth century, still speaks of the ancient territory of the destroyed Republic as “a rocky ridge beside a smiling sea, which its inhabitants call the Costa d’Amalfi; full of little cities, of gardens, of fountains, and of rich and enterprising merchants.” It was in fact reserved for relentless Nature herself to complete the work of destruction that Norman armies and Pisan fleets had more than half accomplished.
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