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Updated: June 6, 2025
Was I not right, my poor, poor Lazzaro?" "Madonna, you were right," I answered firmly and calmly. "And you are to die, amor mio," she murmured passionately. "You are to die when the promise of happiness seemed held out to us. And yet, were you to live at the price at which life is offered you, would your life be endurable? Tell me the truth, Lazzaro; swear it to me.
Our breakfast-table talk wrought to friendship the acquaintance made some time before, and the next morning we received the photograph of Padre Giacomo, and the compliments of the Orient, in a heaped basket of ripe and luscious figs from the garden of the Convent San Lazzaro. When, in turn, we went to visit him at the convent, we had experience of a more curious oriental hospitality.
It is so Venetian, indeed, that it wants but a few silent gondolas and noisy gondoliers, in place of the dark, taciturn oarsmen of the clumsy native boats, to complete the coming and going illusion; and there is no good reason why the rough little isles that fill the bay should not call themselves respectively San Giorgio and San Clemente, and Sant' Elena and San Lazzaro: they probably have no other names!
Of an impatient man: "He feeds the hen with one hand and with the other he looks for her eggs." I have not printed these exactly as they appear in the little pamphlet, because one has only to turn one page to realize that what the S. Lazzaro press most needs is a proof-reader. I said at the beginning of this book that the perfect way to approach Venice for the first time is from Chioggia.
"Lazzaro, dear friend," she cried, almost with gaiety, "I was wise to take counsel with you. You have planted in my heart a very vigorous growth of hope." We turned soon after, and started to retrace our steps, for she might be ill-advised to remain absent overlong.
I was perhaps too absorbed to pay any great attention to the impression my verses were producing, but presently, in one of my pauses, the Lord Filippo startled me with words that awoke me to a sense of my imprudence. "Do you know, Lazzaro, of what your lines remind me in an extraordinary measure?" "Of what, Excellency?" I asked politely, raising my eyes from my manuscript.
She swept towards me, and before I knew it her hands were on my shoulders, her face upturned, and her blue eyes on mine, depriving me of all will and all resistance. "Lazzaro," said she, and there was an intensity almost fierce in her low tones, "moments are flying and you stand here reasoning with me, and bidding me weigh what is already weighed for all time.
"I have heard some such talk," I answered, rousing myself at last; "and they say that it is the Lord Giovanni who would prove worthy of your hand." "They say rightly, then," she acknowledged. "The Lord Giovanni it is." Again there was a silence, and again it was she who broke it. "Well, Lazzaro?" she asked. "Have you naught to say?" "What would you have me say, Madonna?
He was a pupil and disciple of Piero dal Borgo a San Sepolcro, and greatly did he strive in his youth to imitate his master, and even to surpass him; and the while that he was working with Piero at Arezzo, living in the house of his uncle Lazzaro Vasari, as it has been told, he imitated the manner of the said Piero so well that the one could scarcely be distinguished from the other.
Lazzaro, both in original composition and in translating English into Armenian, for one physically ruined and broken. The pilgrim to Ravenna, who has any idea of what is due to the genius of Dante, will be disappointed when he approaches his tomb.
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