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Updated: June 25, 2025
But the masterpiece in this style was the 'Sarca' of Pietro Bembo, which tells how the river-god of that name wooed the nymph Garda; of the brilliant marriage feast in a cave of Monte Baldo; of the prophecies of Manto, daughter of Tiresias; of the birth of the child Mincius; of the founding of Mantua, and of the future glory of Virgil, son of Mincius and of Magia, nymph of Andes.
He presented him, therefore, to M. Baldo, who, although he had been minded to have it painted by Andrea del Sarto, as has been related in another place, resolved, at the entreaties and advice of Antonio, to allot it to Niccolò.
And when Lapo found no reply in his head, Ercole Azzanera, with a humble bow, descended from the high tower and followed the others away. Lapo Cercamorte sat down on a stool. "All my good men," he murmured, "and my dear gossip, Baldo! My castle rushed by so shabby a ruse; my name a laughing-stock! And the Marquis Azzo gave them my house as one gives a child a leaden gimcrack to stamp on.
Baldo had marked the ill-starred Nina as his own; and Paolo, who had always been a favourite, and had never made an enemy, they intended to preserve as useful to them in his former capacity of surgeon. Thus it is, that the lawless can never depend for an instant on each other.
But we hope to carry you off with us now in time for luncheon." "I don't know how to thank you," said Adrian. "But I 'm afraid I hate to destroy an illusion, yet in honesty I must I 'm afraid I 'm not the person you take me for. I 'm afraid there's a misapprehension. "Oh, we 'll respect your incog all right, if that's what's troubling you," promised Baldo. "You shall be Mr. Anthony Craford."
"I 'm awfully sorry," repeated Adrian. "But Craford and I are as distinct as night and morning. Craford has gone out for a solitary walk. My name is Willes. Craford and I are travelling together." "Oh, I see," cried Franco; and slapping his thigh, "Ho, ho, ho," he laughed. "Ho, ho, ho," laughed Baldo. "We were jolly well sold." "We ho, ho we got the wrong sow by the ear," laughed Franco.
The brig's head was to the southward, and all eyes were thus turned to windward, or in the direction towards which she was drifting with the current, and no one thought of looking on the lee side, from which no possible danger was apprehended. "We have done well to come here, Baldo," observed Zappa to his mate.
So Baldo led the sorcerer to Cercamorte, and for a long while those two talked together in private. Next day Madonna Gemma noted that Lapo had on a new, short, sleeveless surcoat, or vest, of whitish leather, trimmed on its edges with vair, and laced down the sides with tinsel.
One-eyed Baldo also groaned at these goings-on, and swallowed many angry speeches. But Foresto the horse-boy began to hum at his work. This Foresto had attached himself to Lapo's force in the Ferrarese campaign. His habits were solitary. Often when his work was done he wandered into the woods to return with a capful of berries or a squirrel that he had snared.
In Cercamorte's castle, dice-throwing and drinking gave place to drinking and plotting. Strange messengers appeared. In an upper chamber a shabby priest from the nearest town the stronghold of Count Nicolotto Muti neatly wrote down, at Lapo's dictation, the tally of available men, horses, and arms. Then one morning Cercamorte said to Baldo, his lieutenant: "I am off for a talk with Nicolotto Muti.
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