sa fell, it was just
and right; for that she was Ghibelline, and would not make one with her
sisters. For this Siena was lopped like a lily on her hills, and Lucca
pruned like her own olive trees, and Pistoia gathered in the plain. This
Florence stood for the Guelph cause and for the future, yet she too in
her turn failed in love, and great though she was, she too was not great
enough. One of her sons, seeing her power, dreamed of the unity of
Italy, and for this cause followed Cesare Borgia; but she could not
compass it, and so fell at last as Pisa fell, as Siena fell, as all must
fall who will not be at one. How beautiful these old towers of Vico
Pisano look now among the flowers, yet once they were cruel enough: men
defended them and thought nothing of their beauty, and time has spoiled
them of defence and left only their beauty to be remembered. For the
ancients of Pisa have met for the last time; the signory of Florence
plots no more; no more will any Emperor with the pride of a barbarian,
the mien of a beggar or a thief, cross the Alps, or such an one as
Hawkwood was sell his prowess for a bag of silver; and if the ships of
war shall ever put out from Genoa, they will be the ships of Italy. For
she who slept so long has awakened at last, and around her as she stands
on the Capitol, there cluster full of the ancient Latin beauty that can
never die, the beautiful cities of the sea, the plain, and the mountain,
who have lost life for her sake, to find it in her.

It is a long road of some fifteen miles from Pontedera to S. Miniato al
Tedesco: a hot road not without beauty passing through Rotta, own sister
to Pontedera, through Castel del Bosco, only a dusty village now, for
the castello is gone which guarded the confines of the Republic of Pisa,
divided from the Republic of Florence by the Chiecinella, a torrent bed
almost without water in the summer heat, while not far away on the
southern hills Montopoli thrusts its tower into the sky, keeping yet its
ancient Rocca, once in the power of the Bishops of Lucca, but later in
the hands of Florence, an answer, as it were, to Castel del Bosco of
Pisa in the land where both Pisa and Florence were on guard. There is
but little to see at Montopoli, just two old churches and a picture by
Cigoli; indeed the place looks its best from afar; and then, since the
day is hot, you may spend a pleasanter hour in S. Romano in the old
Franciscan church there, which is worth a visit in sp