It hung on the wall inside the village draper's shop,
and was readily shown me by the owner, who did not conceal the pride he
had in possessing it. It was one of those mirrors one rarely meets with
now, which were once so abundant in the old princes' castles and palaces.
It looked so deep and true, and the gilt frame was so light, and of such
a purity and elegance, that it needed all my resolution to keep from
buying it, though a bargain would not have been effected very easily. The
mirror, however, had to be abandoned, as Dosalo, the nearest point for
crossing the Po, was still seven miles distant. By this time the sun was
out in all its force, and the heat was by no means agreeable. Then there
was dust, too, as if the carrettieri had been passing in hundreds, so
that the heat was almost unbearable. At last the Dosalo ferry was
reached, the road leading to it was entered, and the carriage was, I
thought, to be at once embarked, when a drove of oxen were discovered to
have the precedence; and so I had to wait.
Pages:
731
732
733
734
735
736
737
738
739
740
741
742
743
744
745
746
747
748
749
750
751
752
753
754
755