nough to raise the swelling under one's arms with fright: but then,
after that, he says Florence is to be regenerated; but what will be the
good of that when we're all dead of the plague, or something else? And
then, the third thing, and what he said oftenest, is, that it's all to
be in our days: and he marked that off on his thumb, till he made me
tremble like the very jelly before me. They had jellies, to be sure,
with the arms of the Albizzi and the Acciajoli raised on them in all
colours; they've not turned the world quite upside down yet. But all
their talk is, that we are to go back to the old ways: for up starts
Francesco Valori, that I've danced with in the Via Larga when he was a
bachelor and as fond of the Medici as anybody, and he makes a speech
about the old times, before the Florentines had left off crying `Popolo'
and begun to cry `Palle'--as if that had anything to do with a
wedding!--and how we ought to keep to the rules the Signory laid down
heaven knows when, that we were not to wear this and that, and not to
eat this and that--and how our manners were corrupted and we read bad
books; though he can't say that of _me_--"

"Stop, cousin!" said Bardo, in his imperious tone, for he had a remark
to make, and only desperate measures could arrest the rattling
lengthiness of Monna Brigida's discourse. But now she gave a little
start, pursed up her mouth, and looked at him with round eyes.

"Francesco Valori is not altogether wrong," Bardo went on. "Bernardo,
indeed, rates him not highly, and is rather of opinion that he christens
private grudges by the name of public zeal; though I must admit that my
good Bernardo is too slow of belief in that unalloyed patriotism which
was found in all its lustre amongst the ancients. But it is true, Tito,
that our manners have degenerated somewhat from that noble frugality
which, as has been well seen in the public acts of our citizens, is the
parent of true magnificence. For men, as I hear, will now spend on the
transient show of a Giostra sums which would suffice to found a library,
and confer a lasting possession on mankind. Still, I conceive, it
remains true of us Florentines that we have more of that magnanimous
sobriety which abhors a trivial lavishness that it may be grandly
open-handed on grand occasions, than can be found in any other city of
Italy; for I understand that the Neapolitan and Milanese courtiers laugh
at the scarcity of our plate, and think scor