e Trinita,
but I have seen none. Its curve is so gentle and soft, and its three
arches so light and graceful, that I wonder that whenever new bridges
are necessary the authorities do not insist upon the Trinita being
copied. The Ponte Vecchio, of course, has a separate interest of its
own, and stands apart, like the Rialto. It is a bridge by chance, one
might almost say. But the Trinita is a bridge in intent and supreme at
that, the most perfect union of two river banks imaginable. It shows
to what depths modern Florence can fall--how little she esteems her
past--that the iron bridge by the Cascine should ever have been built.

The various yellows of Florence--the prevailing colours--are spread
out nowhere so favourably as on the Pitti side of the river between
the Trinita and the Ponte Vecchio on the backs of the houses of the
Borgo San Jacopo, and just so must this row have looked for four
hundred years. Certain of the occupants of these tenements, even on
the upper floors, have fishing nets, on pulleys, which they let down
at intervals during the day for the minute fish which seem to be as
precious to Italian fishermen as sparrows and wrens to Italian gunners.

The great palace at the Trinita end of this stretch of yellow
buildings--the Frescobaldi--must have been very striking when the
loggia was open: the three rows of double arches that are now walled
in. From this point, as well as from similar points on the other
side of the Ponte Vecchio, one realizes the mischief done by Cosimo
I's secret passage across it; for not only does the passage impose a
straight line on a bridge that was never intended to have one, but it
cuts Florence in two. If it were not for its large central arches one
would, from the other bridges or the embankment, see nothing whatever
of the further side of the city; but as it is, through these arches
one has heavenly vignettes.

We leave the river again for a few minutes about fifty yards along
the Lungarno Acciaioli beyond the Trinita and turn up a narrow passage
to see the little church of SS. Apostoli, where there is a delightful
gay ciborium, all bright colours and happiness, attributed to Andrea
della Robbia, with pretty cherubs and pretty angels, and a benignant
Christ and flowers and fruit which cannot but chase away gloom and
dubiety. Here also is a fine tomb by the sculptor of the elaborate
chimney-piece which we saw in the Bargello, Benedetto da Rovezzano,
who also designed the c