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Updated: May 13, 2025
How eagerly this special infringement of a general law was sometimes sought by the mediæval workmen, I shall be frequently able to point out to the reader; but I remember just now a most curious instance, in an archivolt of a house in the Corte del Remer close to the Rialto at Venice.
Italy shone about her; the lake, the plains, the peaks, and the shouldering flushed snowridges. Carlo Ammiani breathed as one who draws in fire. Grizzled Agostino glittered with suppressed emotion, like a frosted thorn-bush in the sunlight. Ugo Corte had his thick brows down, as a man who is reading iron matter.
Partly because of the bitterness of it all, partly because of his long fast, he had not been able to eat his mid-day meal of beans and bread he felt ready to faint, and his sight was troubled. He sank down on the decayed threshold of a small, closed door, at the entrance to the little lane called della Corte. A long peal of thunder sounded above his head.
We have decided that the news from the king's army is good." A perceptible shudder in Vittoria's frame at this concluding sentence caught Corte's eye. "Are you dissatisfied with that arrangement?" he addressed her boldly. "I am, Colonel Corte," she replied. So simple was the answering tone of her voice that Corte had not a word.
Do you know where you will be this time to- morrow? Then laughing like a hyena, he departed, and I never saw him again. "At that time on the morrow, Francisco was on his death-bed. He had caught the jail fever, which had long raged in the Carcel de la Corte, where I was imprisoned. In a few days he was buried, a mass of corruption, in the Campo Santo of Madrid."
I had, moreover, been thinking for some time past of paying a visit to the prison, partly in the hope of being able to say a few words of Christian instruction to the criminals, and partly with the view of making certain investigations in the robber language of Spain, a subject about which I had long felt much curiosity; indeed, I had already made application for admittance into the Carcel de la Corte, but had found the matter surrounded with difficulties, as my friend Ofalia would have said.
The reasonableness of the suspicion seems to be heightened by the fact that the certificate of Napoleon's marriage gives the date of his birth as February eighth, 1768. Moreover, in the marriage contract of Joseph, witnesses testify to his having been born at Ajaccio, not at Corte. But there are facts of greater weight on the other side.
In no landscape are more various qualities combined; in none are they so harmonised as to produce so strong a sense of majestic freedom and severe power. Suppose that we are on the road to Corte, and have now reached Bocognano, the first considerable village since we left Ajaccio.
Gilbert himself probably knew that his appointment had been made in pursuance of the emperor's policy of road and rail. For Corsica was to be opened up by a railway, and would have none of it. And though to-day the railway from Bastia to Ajaccio is at last open, the station at Corte remains a fortified place with a loopholed wall around it. But Colonel Gilbert kept his own counsel.
Isabella herself interviewed the ceremony from a tribunal erected on the piazza in front of the Castello di Corte at Mantua, and the duke wrote a graceful note to his sister-in-law, thanking her for her good offices in the matter.
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