About me they were disturbed: "_E sempre sola
soletta_," they said, "_eh perche?_"
Later, I made one of those accidental acquaintances, such as I have
spoken of to you in my life of Lombardy, which may be called romantic:
two brothers, elderly men, the last of a very noble family, formerly
lords of many castles, still of more than one; both unmarried, men of
great polish and culture. None of the consequences ensued that would
in romances: they did not any way adopt me, nor give me a casket of
diamonds, nor any of their pictures, among which were originals
by several of the greatest masters, nor their rich cabinets, nor
miniatures on agate, nor carving in wood and ivory. They only showed
me their things, and their family archives of more than a hundred
volumes, (containing most interesting documents about Poland, where
four of their ancestors were nuncios,) manuscript letters from Tasso,
and the like. With comments on these, and legendary lore enough to
furnish Cooper or Walter Scott with a thousand romances, they enriched
me; unhappily, I shall never have the strength or talent to make due
use of it. I was sorry to leave them, for now I have recrossed the
frontier into the Roman States.
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