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    Chapter 19 - Page 2

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    have always entertained the highest respect, on account of her rare
    histrionic capabilities, her opulence in solid gold goblets made of
    gilded wood, her high distinction as an operatic screamer, and the
    facility with which she could order a sextuple funeral and get the
    corpses ready for it. We saw one single coarse yellow hair from
    Lucrezia's head, likewise. It awoke emotions, but we still live. In
    this same library we saw some drawings by Michael Angelo (these Italians
    call him Mickel Angelo,) and Leonardo da Vinci. (They spell it Vinci and
    pronounce it Vinchy; foreigners always spell better than they pronounce.)
    We reserve our opinion of these sketches.

    In another building they showed us a fresco representing some lions and
    other beasts drawing chariots; and they seemed to project so far from the
    wall that we took them to be sculptures. The artist had shrewdly
    heightened the delusion by painting dust on the creatures' backs, as if
    it had fallen there naturally and properly. Smart fellow--if it be smart
    to deceive strangers.

    Elsewhere we saw a huge Roman amphitheatre, with its stone seats still in
    good preservation. Modernized, it is now the scene of more peaceful
    recreations than the exhibition of a party of wild beasts with Christians
    for dinner. Part of the time, the Milanese use it for a race track, and
    at other seasons they flood it with water and have spirited yachting
    regattas there. The guide told us these things, and he would hardly try
    so hazardous an experiment as the telling of a falsehood, when it is all
    he can do to speak the truth in English without getting the lock-jaw.

    In another place we were shown a sort of summer arbor, with a fence
    before it. We said that was nothing. We looked again, and saw, through
    the arbor, an endless stretch of garden, and shrubbery, and grassy lawn.
    We were perfectly willing to go in there and rest, but it could not be
    done. It was only another delusion--a painting by some ingenious artist
    with little charity in his heart for tired folk. The deception was
    perfect. No one could have imagined the park was not real. We even
    thought we smelled the flowers at first.

    We got a carriage at twilight and drove in the shaded avenues with the
    other nobility, and after dinner we took wine and ices in a fine garden

    with the great public. The music was excellent, the flowers and
    shrubbery were pleasant to the eye, the scene was vivacious, everybody
    was genteel and well-behaved, and the ladies were slightly moustached,
    and handsomely dressed, but very homely.

    We adjourned to a cafe and played billiards an hour, and I made six or
    seven points by the doctor pocketing his ball, and he made as many by my
    pocketing my ball. We came near making a carom sometimes,
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