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Updated: June 28, 2025
They declared, not without some foundation in fact, that the canvases were not really from the hand of Titian, and refused to pay more than one thousand ducats for them. The negotiation was conducted as were most others at that time by the trusty Orazio, who after much show of indignation was compelled at last to accept the proffered payment. Imperial Gallery, Vienna. Collection of Mr.
"Then I am satisfied," replied Ruspoli, quiet defiance in his look and tone. "I accuse you, Signore Orazio Franchi, of nothing. I only warn you." "I don't see why we should quarrel about Nobili's marriage. He will be here himself presently, to explain which of the ladies he prefers," observed the peaceable Orsetti. "I don't know which lady Count Nobili prefers," retorted Ruspoli, doggedly.
Surely she was not destined to live with Orazio and his tiresome mother, penned up in a shabby little house in Lucca, and there growing old and hideous. She sat before her glass thinking these thoughts and waiting until she heard Olive's quick, light step in the passage and then the opening and shutting of the front door.
"But answer my question," insisted Orsetti, who, as an avowed suitor of Lucca maidens had their honor and good name at heart. "Don't be a fool, but tell me what you know. This idle story, involving the reputation of a young girl, is shameful. I protest against it!" "Do you?" sneered Orazio, leaning back, and pulling at his sandy mustache. "That is because you know nothing about it.
"Oh, Olive," she said, "Orazio says he will not marry her. He has heard such things about her from his friends, and even in the Café Greco.... It is a scandal." She put her lamp down on the floor, and took out her handkerchief to wipe away the tears that were running down her cheeks. Olive came in and shut the door after her. "Where is he?" "They are all in the dining-room.
Orsetti and Malatesta suddenly find that their cigars want relighting, and turn aside. Orazio seats himself at a distance, and scowls at Prince Ruspoli. Nobili gives a quick glance round. An instant tells him that something is wrong. Prince Ruspoli breaks the awkward silence. He walks up, looks at Nobili with immovable gravity, then slaps him on the shoulder. "I congratulate you, Nobili.
"And the niece is the niece gone to glory on the funeral-pyre?" "No," answered Baldassare, helplessly, settling his stupid eyes on Orazio, whose thrusts he could not parry. "She was saved by Count Nobili, who was accidentally shooting on the mountains near." "Oh, bah!" cried Malatesta, with a knowing grin; "I never believe in accidents. There is a ruling power. That power is love love love."
After the death of his wife, his sister Orsa, who was very dear to him, had kept his house; she too sickened and died; his son Pomponio was a worthless fellow, and caused him much grief; Lavinia had married, and the old man was left with Orazio alone, who was a dutiful son.
The situation presents possibilities for just those bold and extraordinary contrasts which were so dear to Beddoes' heart. While Marcello, the second brother, is meditating over his wretched fate, Orazio, the third, comes upon the stage, crowned and glorious, attended by a train of singing revellers, and with a courtesan upon either hand.
In this work Luca portrayed himself and many of his friends; Niccolò, Paolo, and Vitelozzo Vitelli, Giovan Paolo and Orazio Baglioni, and others whose names are not known. In the Sacristy of S. Maria at Loreto he painted in fresco the four Evangelists, the four Doctors, and other saints, all very beautiful; and for this work he was liberally rewarded by Pope Sixtus.
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