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Updated: May 3, 2025
Now it so happened that at the very time when the story opens, Messer Pietro's wife fell ill and died, and Elena was left alone at home with her father and her old nurse. Across the little canal of which I spoke there dwelt another nobleman, with four daughters, between the years of seventeen and twenty-one.
Gerardo, as is the wont of gallants, was paying his addresses to a certain lady; and nearly every day he had to cross the Grand Canal in his gondola, and to pass beneath the house of Elena on his way to visit his Dulcinea; for this lady lived some distance up a little canal on which the western side of Messer Pietro's palace looked.
The cynicism is only inverted morality, and implies that the writer is the reverse of cynical; but it lacks the attractive sub-acid flavour of a delicate cynicism, which insinuates its prophylactic virus into our veins, and the humour of the poem, ascending from stage to stage until we reach Pietro's final failure, is cumbrous and mechanical.
Then a thought struck me: "'Come in here a moment, I said to him, and I pushed in Pietro's door. "'Pietro, I called out, so that everybody in the caffe could hear, 'I'm going up to Mr. Diffendorfer's room. Better get a fiasco of Chianti ready the old kind you have in the cellar.
On swept his followers forward went the cavalry headed by Gianni Colonna, Pietro's father. there was a minute's silence, broken only by the clatter of the arms, and tramp of hoofs, when from within the walls rose the abrupt cry "Rome, the Tribune, and the People! Spirito Santo, Cavaliers!" The main body halted aghast. Suddenly Gianni Colonna was seen flying backward from the gate at full speed.
There, with the utmost delight, they enjoyed the first-fruits of their love and a few days after, they took horse with the lady and returned, under good escort, to Rome, where she found Pietro's kinsfolk sore incensed at that which he had done, but contrived to make his peace with them, and he lived with his Agnolella in all peace and pleasance to a good old age."
There was no alternative already many of the birds were in place. He could see some of them and realized they were, for the most part, dejected looking specimens. He touched Pietro's sleeve nervously and inquired faintly, "Are you sure I shall get him back?" But on this point his uncle was most reassuring and replied confidently: "There's nothing at all to worry about.
Prince Pietro's own man-servant had assisted him to dress for the impending ceremonial, and just as the last folds of his regal attire were being set in place a knock was heard at the door of his apartment, and Prince Pietro himself entered. "A telegram for you, brother Felix," he said, "I have brought it myself, thinking it may perhaps immediately concern your visit to the Pope to-day."
But not one out of all these disciples ever equalled Pietro's diligence, or the grace of colouring that he showed in that manner of his own, which pleased his time so much, that many came from France, from Spain, from Germany, and from other lands, to learn it.
Any hope of revanche is abandoned in the reflection of the super-retaliations he himself conceives. One young man who expresses himself freely on the subject of Pietro receives a plate of hot soup down the back of his neck, followed immediately by a "Pardon, Monsieur," said not without respect. But where might Pietro's father be?
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