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A connoisseur in porcelain would have set such a plate on his drawing-room wall as a picture. "How does Claudio work?" the mother asked of her son. "He works well," Matteo replied. "He is worth two of our common fellows, if he is educated." "Nevertheless, I should not have employed him," the mother said. "He has disobeyed and disappointed his parents, and he should be punished.
When this offer was refused, and the nobleman insisted upon giving a low price, Matteo deliberately took his hammer and shattered the cameo into pieces at a single blow. His must have been an unhappy life. Vasari says that he "took a wife in France and became the father of children, but they were so entirely dissimilar to himself, that he had but little satisfaction from them."
Standing in a secluded part of the town, this magnificent church gains nothing from its position, for it can only be reached by means of tortuous dingy lanes, and even on a near approach the effect produced on the visitor is not impressive. “The Cathedral-church of San Matteo,” says the Scotch traveller, Joseph Forsyth, in quaint pedantic language, “is a pile so antique and so modern, so repaired and rhapsodic, that it exhibits patches of every style, and is of no style itself.” But is not this quality, we ask, exactly what a great historic building, such as Guiscard’s church, truly demands?
"She can fly along, I can tell you, Matteo. You shall come out in her some evening when Giuseppi and I both take oars. I have had her ten days now, and we have not come across anything that can hold her for a moment." "It is always useful," Matteo said, "to have a fast boat. It is invaluable in case you have been getting into a scrape, and have one of the boats of the city watch in chase of you."
"I was distracted by the thought of Claudio. It seems such a terrible thing." "It would be a much more terrible thing if it were a girl who disobeyed," Matteo growled. He did not like that girls should criticise men. "So it would," the girl responded with meek readiness. "I don't know why I feel so tired to-day," the mother said, sinking into a chair again.
When Cola Matteo went home and delivered the answer to the serpent, he said, "Go to-morrow morning and gather up all the fruit-stones you can find in the city, and sow them in the orchard, and you will see pearls strung on rushes!"
They ate little puffed bits of pastry with their chocolate, and they sat a long time over it, while Don Matteo told Don Teodoro of an interesting document of the fourteenth century which he had discovered in a private library. Don Teodoro spoke rarely, but not at random, for the thinking habit of the scholarly mind does not easily break down, even under a great strain.
Once he heard the old man sobbing within as though his heart would break, all alone; and once again he heard his voice saying Latin prayers in a low tone; and the third time all was very still, and Don Matteo knew that the worst was past. On the next morning very early Don Teodoro came out of his room.
Matteo dal Nassaro, who was born in Verona, and was the son of Jacopo dal Nassaro, a shoemaker, gave much attention in his early childhood not only to design, but also to music, in which he became excellent, having had as his masters in that study Marco Carr
The San Philip and the San Matteo were drifting dismasted towards the Dutch coast, where they were afterwards wrecked. Those which were left with canvas still showing were crawling slowly after their comrades who had not been engaged, the spars and rigging so cut up that they could scarce bear their sails. The loss of life could only be conjectured, but it had been obviously terrible.
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