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Updated: July 15, 2025
As for Monsignor Guerra, he was to pay Olympio a thousand piastres, half the stipulated sum; Marzio acting out of pure love for Beatrice, whom he worshipped as a Madonna; which observing, the girl gave him a handsome scarlet mantle, trimmed with gold lace, telling him to wear it for love of her.
He began to speculate upon what would happen afterwards, wondering whether by any means the murder could be discovered, and if in that case it could ever be traced to him. At the first faint suggestion that such a thing as he was devising could possibly have another issue than he had supposed, Marzio felt a cold sensation in his heart, and his thoughts took a different direction.
You can marry us in ten minutes, and the thing will be all over. Then we can laugh at Sor Marzio." Don Paolo smiled. "My dear boy," he answered, "those things are not done in a moment like roasting chestnuts. There are banns to be published. There is a civil marriage at the Capitol " "I should be quite satisfied with your benediction a Pater Noster, an Oremus properly said eh?
Maestro Marzio Pandolfi was a skilled workman and an artist.
"Business?" exclaimed Marzio in loud ironical tones. "This is a good time for talking of business as good as any other! What is it?" "The Cardinal wants another piece of work done, a very fine piece of work." "The Cardinal? I will not make any more chalices for your cardinals. I am sick of chalices, and monstrances, and such stuff." "It is none of those," answered Don Paolo quietly.
If Marzio could have exercised his art while living as a hermit on the top of a lonely mountain he might have been a much better man. He almost understood this himself as he walked slowly through the Via delle Botteghe Oscure "the street of dark shops" in the early morning.
"And if you take her away," retorted the other, "where will you get bread?" "Where I get it now. I could live somewhere else and come here to work; it seems simple enough." "It seems simple, but it is not," replied Marzio. "Perhaps you could try and get Paolo's commissions away from me, and then set up a studio for yourself; but I doubt whether you could succeed.
"Don Paolo is quite right, in the first place, when he tells you that the thing is simply impossible. Fathers do not compel their daughters to marry in this century. Will you do me the favour to explain your first remark a little more clearly? You said I had turned myself out how?" "You have changed, Tista," said Marzio, leaning back to sharpen his pencil, and staring at the wall.
Don Paolo looked at him gravely. After the words Marzio had spoken, it had gone against the priest's nature to communicate to him the commission for the sacred object. He had hesitated a moment, asking himself whether it was right that such a man should be allowed to do such work.
A shiver ran through her body and she raised her head. She was very pale as she leaned back in the chair. Marzio took her hands and robbed them between his dark fingers, still looking into her eyes. "Ah!" she gasped, "I thought I was dead." Then, as Marzio seemed about to speak, she added faintly: "Don't say it again!" "Lucia dear Lucia!
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