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I have been happy not for moments only, not for hours, not for whole days even, but for whole weeks together. And what right had I to happiness? She felt terror at the thought of her happiness. 'What, if that cannot be? she thought. 'What, if it is not granted for nothing? Why, it has been heaven... and we are mortals, poor sinful mortals.... Morir si giovane. Oh, dark omen, away!
"Ecco, giovane mio!" said the respectable printer and goldsmith, "you have now a pretty little fortune; and if you will take my advice, you will let me place your florins in a safe quarter, where they may increase and multiply, instead of slipping through your fingers for banquets and other follies which are rife among our Florentine youth.
Even the man to whom all paid homage, the illustrious Canova, started, and exclaimed: "Quest' opera di quel giovane Danese è fatta in uno stilo nuovo, e grandioso!" Zoega smiled. "It is bravely done!" said he. The Danish songstress, Frederikke Brunn, was then in Rome and sang enthusiastically about Thorwaldsen's "Jason."
Besides, our Phoenix, the incomparable Pico, has shown that your horoscopes are all a nonsensical dream which is the less troublesome opinion. Addio! bel giovane! don't forget to come back to me." "No fear of that," said Tito, beckoning a farewell, as he turned round his bright face at the door. "You are to do me a great service: that is the most positive security for your seeing me again."
"What acquaintance was that you were making signals to, eh, giovane mio?" "Some little contadina who probably mistook me for an acquaintance, for she had honoured me with a greeting." "Or who wished to begin an acquaintance," said Nello.
"The fact is," said Nello, eyeing the stranger good-humouredly, "this bello giovane has been a little too presumptuous in admiring the charms of Monna Ghita, and has attempted to kiss her while her daughter's back is turned; for I observe that the pretty Tessa is too busy to look this way at present. Was it not so, Messer?" Nello concluded, in a tone of courtesy.
"Never talk of rivalry, bel giovane mio: Bernardo Dovizi is a keen youngster, who will never carry a net out to catch the wind; but he has something of the same sharp-muzzled look as his brother Ser Piero, the weasel that Piero de' Medici keeps at his beck to slip through small holes for him. No! you distance all rivals, and may soon touch the sky with your forefinger.
Between the two divisions is a landscape with a shrine in the centre, and the whole composition is contained in an upright oval, the corners being filled up with later painting. The usual white dog appears with a red collar-ribbon. The frame is well carved, but not architectural. In a side chapel is a S. Francis by Palma Giovane.
It all comes from that abstinence of mine, in not making bad verses in my youth: for want of letting my folly run out that way when I was eighteen, it runs out at my tongue's end now I am at the unseemly age of fifty. But Nello has not got his head muffled for all that; he can see a buffalo in the snow. Addio, giovane mio."
No. 31 is the lovely Madonna of the Rose Bower. But nothing gives me more pleasure than the boy's head of which I have just spoken, attributed to Andrea and also reproduced here. The "Giovane Donna" which pairs with it has extraordinary charm and delicacy too. I have marked also, by Andrea, Nos. 71 and 76. Giovanni della Robbia's best is perhaps No. 15, in the other room.
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