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Updated: June 19, 2025
So he found, by good luck, his bed, and she a time for tears. If there is not much to be said for the Via della Gatta in these days, there was even less when Ippolita was the reigning toast. Of nights, by the same token, it was not the place to choose for an after-supper walk. The watch used to go through it with swords before and daggers behind.
He was at table with his mistress, whom I should not have recognized if she had not pronounced my name directly she saw me. As she had addressed me as Don Giacomo, I called her Donna Ippolita, but in a voice which indicated that I was not certain of her identity. She told me I was quite right. I had supped with her at Naples in company with Lord Baltimore, and she was very pretty then.
Next came the turn of Donna Emilia, a very burning poetess, for a Sapphic ode; and so on and so on. After three days Ippolita found herself yawning her head off; the longing for freedom returned, for the open country, the hills, the goatherds. Not for her home in the Vicolo: this everlasting love-making with its aftertaste of stale sugar had turned her sick of Padua. The whole city, to her mind, reeked of bergamot; she guessed a fawning lover at every street corner, a pryer at every window basta, basta, la citt
Ippolita clasped her hands behind her head, and looked lazily at all this early glory. The freedom of her heart seemed explicit in that of her limbs. What she could do with her legs, for instance! How she could sprawl at ease! She was just like all the others as ragged, as dirty, at least; and soon she would be as brown. Dio buono, the splendid life of a goatherd!
"But I can't go, Nannina; you know it as well as I do." "I am not so sure. Do you mean what you say, Ippolita?" "Ah, Nannina!" "Then you shall go. It so happens that I know one of those goatherds a rough lout of a fellow called Petruccio. I could tell him that a youngster had got into trouble in the city and wanted to lie quiet for a week or two. I can do it, Ippolita." "Oh!
I was never, as I have said, in love with Folco's daughter; my tastes are simpler, more carnal; give me an Ippolita in my affectionate hours, and I ask nothing better. Love for me must be a jolly companion, never squeamish, never chilly, never expecting other homage than such salutations as swordsmen may use for preliminary to a hot engagement.
Ippolita, a miracle of rose and gold, in a white gauzy robe, her hair crowned with daisies, was Queen of Love and Beauty, fanned by ladies in red. Del Dardo tilted with Vittore Marzipane, Gottardo de' Brancacci with Giacomo Fèo, a young lion from the Romagna. Messer Meleagro very nearly fell off his horse.
Her friends were no protection: the girls thought it fun, courted it, found stuff in it for giggling and peering with the eyes into dark corners; the lads of her station shrugged at it, then sulked, and at last fairly fought shy of such a conspicuous mate. Ippolita herself tried to laugh it off, but failed absurdly. She became plaintive.
She abandoned herself to joy. "You are the angel, the miracle! You are " "No, no, I am not an angel; but oh, I love you, dearly!" "Ah, la Madonna!" "I am Ippolita! I love you!" "You love me? You are mine then come." "Andrea," said Castracane next morning, "I think the others will be back before noon. You must wait here till they come.
I am far from alleging the heart of Messer Alessandro to be dry tow; but I do repeat it, Padua was a freakish cityful, Ippolita lovely exceedingly, amorous poetry in the air. He, then, passing by, saw her stoop flushed and sparkling from above him; the sun caught her shining hair; a loose white smock revealed so much of her neck as to picture him the snowy rest. Snow and rosebuds O ye little gods!
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