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Updated: July 8, 2025
He was escorted to a small inn where his only refreshments were two cups of tea. The crowd demanded a speech, and to quiet the yelling, Paul stepped to the porch of the inn and delivered most of the Italian words he knew: "Signori, taute grazie di vostra accoglienza, arrivederie, ciao!" The speech was greeted with great applause and the crowd was satisfied.
It extends from the Ponte Vecchio to the Piazza de' Mozzi at the head of the Ponte alle Grazie; its right-hand line of houses and walls being backed by the rather steep ascent which in the fifteenth century was known as the hill of Bogoli, the famous stone-quarry whence the city got its pavement of dangerously unstable consistence when penetrated by rains; its left-hand buildings flanking the river and making on their northern side a length of quaint, irregularly-pierced facade, of which the waters give a softened loving reflection as the sun begins to decline towards the western heights.
He began by rebuilding the friars' dormitories, enlarging their gardens, and giving them a good water-supply. Then, on the 3rd of December of this year, 1498, he drew up a deed by which he granted his beautiful villa of the Sforzesca, with the spacious farms and fertile lands which had been his pride and pleasure in past days, to the prior and convent of Santa Maria delle Grazie, in perpetuity.
"He wanted to tell me that he had been walking on the beach with Nanni, and that Nanni had gone back to Milan and had left a message for me." "And the message?" "The message was, 'addio e grazie! Don't you see? He was thanking me for the singing. I think he knew that I was singing for him."
Artois brought him some Nocera and lemons. "Do you want brandy, whiskey?" "No, no. Grazie." He poured out the Nocera gently, and began carefully to squeeze some lemon-juice into it, holding the fruit lightly in his strong fingers, and watching the drops fall with a quiet attention. "Where have you been to-night?" The Marchesino looked up. "In the Piazza di Masaniello." "Where have you been?"
One was the painting of the Last Supper on the walls of the refectory of Santa Maria delle Grazie, and the other the making of a model of a great equestrian statue, a bronze horse with the figure of the Duke upon its back. 'Year after year Leonardo worked at that wonderful fresco of the Last Supper. Sometimes for weeks or months he never touched it, but he always returned to it again.
We thought her nose was cute though. Miss Grazie, our professor of ancient history, said my nose was of the most perfect Greek profile she had ever seen just like that on the features of Clytie, and with just as delicately formed nostrils. We set the funniest trap for her once.
"Mille grazie, signor!" "It is of no consequence." They arrived on the ground, and the seconds loaded the pistols. Michel asked permission of Yanski to say two words to him. "Speak!" said Varhely.
And he and all the Frenchmen greatly blamed that second Judas, who had betrayed his master and delivered it up without a blow. The next morning, his Majesty attended mass at S. Ambrogio, accompanied by the Dukes of Ferrara and Savoy, the Marquis of Mantua, Cæsar Borgia, and all the cardinals and ambassadors, and afterwards visited the church and convent of S. Maria delle Grazie.
Often during the summer heats, Matteo Bandello, then a young novice of the Order, saw the Florentine master at noonday, "when the sun was in the sign of the Lion," leave the Corte Vecchia, where he was finishing his great horse, and, hurrying through the streets to the Grazie, mount the scaffold, brush in hand, and put a few touches to some of the figures in the Cenacolo, after which he would hurry away as quickly as he came.
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