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Updated: July 28, 2025
"Your ship was named La Bella Catarina, senor," said I, at this point, as he had not mentioned this fact, though I don't think Captain Farmer approved of my interruption, for he gave me a look which made me shut up at once, "was she not sir?" "Yes, young gentleman," he replied.
In April, 1515, Leo X made him Duke of Camerino and married him to his own niece, the beautiful Catarina Cibò. Giammaria died in August, 1527, leaving as his sole heir his daughter Giulia, who was not yet of age.
"At half-past twelve, then, to-morrow," said she, and she gave him her address, as they went out into the street. "Stop," she added, "where do you live?" "Number twenty-seven Santa Catarina dei Funari," he answered, wondering why she asked. The rest of the party came out, and Nino bowed to the ground, as he bid the contessina good-night.
He stayed in the Vatican three days and then set forth again to join his army, which was besieging Imola. It was his intention first to take this city and then attack Forli, in the castle of which the mistress of the two cities, Catarina Sforza, had established herself for the purpose of resisting him.
Poor creeters! they had to be separated. King John sent him off from Lisbon, wantin' the girl himself, so I spoze. Catarina died soon of a broken heart, but Camoens lived on for thirty years in the body, and is livin' now and will live on in the Real Life fer quite a spell.
Catarina is really haunted; and much as my reason revolts against the idea as superstitious and savoring of priestcraft, yet I must acknowledge I see no way of avoiding the admission. I do not presume to offer any explanations, I only state the fact; and the fact is that to-night one or other of you will, in all human or unhuman probability, receive a visit from Sister Maddelena.
And with indescribable majesty, the Queen, who had no sword handy, waved the pewter spoon with which she had been taking her bread-and-milk, over the bald head of the old nobleman, whose tears absolutely made a puddle on the ground, and whose dear children went to bed that night Lords and Ladies Bartolomeo, Ubaldo, Catarina, and Ottavia degli Spinachi!
But history does record the splendors and display of the ceremonial with which the gray-haired old doge, Cristofero Moro, in the great hall of the palace, surrounded by the senators of the Republic and all the rank and power of the State of Venice, formally adopted Catarina as a "daughter of the Republic." Thus to the dignity of her father's house was added the majesty of the great Republic.
And shortly after, two officers in shining uniforms entered the portals of that same palace, sent up their cards, and were admitted on the instant. Ah! these were rare times! But rarer still for it should only occur once in a man's lifetime was an hour spent in the little chapel of San Bernardo. There is a convent Santa Catarina the richest in Mexico; the richest, perhaps, in the world.
"You know her, sire?" echoed the surprised Uncle Andrea. "Ay, that indeed I do," said the king. "This is the same fair and brave young maiden who delivered me from a rascal rout of boys on the Grand Canal at Venice, on St. Mark's Day, scarce two years ago." And King Giacomo smiled and bowed at the picture as if it were the living Catarina instead of her simple portrait.
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