CHAPTER XIVADDIO PERUGIA

"Altissimu, onnipotente, bon signore,tue so le laude, la gloria, e l'onore et onne benedictione.Ad te solo, altissimo, se konfanoet nullu homo ene dignu te mentovare.Laudate sie, mi signore, cum tucte le tue creaturespecialmente messor lo frate sole,lo quale jorna, et illumini per lui;Et ellu è bellu e radiante cum grande splendore;de te, altissimo, porta significatione.Laudato si, mi signore, per sora luna e le stelle,in celu l'ài formate clarite et pretiose et belle.Laudate si, mi signore, per frate ventoet per aere et nubilo et sereno et onne tempo,per le quale a le tue creature dai sustentamento.Laudato si, mi signore, per sor acqua,la quale è multo utile et humele et pretiosa et casta.Laudato si, mi signore, per frate focu,per lo quale enallumini la nocte,ed ello é bello et jucundo et robustoso et forte.Laudato si, mi signore, per sora nostra matre terra,la quale ne sustenta et governaet produce diversi fructi con coloriti flori et herba.Laudato si, mi signore, per quilli ke perdonano per lo tuo amoreet sostegno infirmitate et tribulatione,beati quilli ke sosterrano in pace,ka da te, altissimo, sirano incoronati.Laudato si, mi signore, per sora nostra morte corporale,da la quale nullu homo vivente po skappare;guai a quilli ke morrano ne le peccata mortali;beata quilli ke se trovarà ne, le tue sanctissime voluntali,ka la morte secunda nol farrà male.Laudate et benedicete mi signore, et rengratiateet serviteli cum grande humilitate."

"Altissimu, onnipotente, bon signore,tue so le laude, la gloria, e l'onore et onne benedictione.Ad te solo, altissimo, se konfanoet nullu homo ene dignu te mentovare.

"Altissimu, onnipotente, bon signore,

tue so le laude, la gloria, e l'onore et onne benedictione.

Ad te solo, altissimo, se konfano

et nullu homo ene dignu te mentovare.

Laudate sie, mi signore, cum tucte le tue creaturespecialmente messor lo frate sole,lo quale jorna, et illumini per lui;Et ellu è bellu e radiante cum grande splendore;de te, altissimo, porta significatione.

Laudate sie, mi signore, cum tucte le tue creature

specialmente messor lo frate sole,

lo quale jorna, et illumini per lui;

Et ellu è bellu e radiante cum grande splendore;

de te, altissimo, porta significatione.

Laudato si, mi signore, per sora luna e le stelle,in celu l'ài formate clarite et pretiose et belle.

Laudato si, mi signore, per sora luna e le stelle,

in celu l'ài formate clarite et pretiose et belle.

Laudate si, mi signore, per frate ventoet per aere et nubilo et sereno et onne tempo,per le quale a le tue creature dai sustentamento.

Laudate si, mi signore, per frate vento

et per aere et nubilo et sereno et onne tempo,

per le quale a le tue creature dai sustentamento.

Laudato si, mi signore, per sor acqua,la quale è multo utile et humele et pretiosa et casta.

Laudato si, mi signore, per sor acqua,

la quale è multo utile et humele et pretiosa et casta.

Laudato si, mi signore, per frate focu,per lo quale enallumini la nocte,ed ello é bello et jucundo et robustoso et forte.

Laudato si, mi signore, per frate focu,

per lo quale enallumini la nocte,

ed ello é bello et jucundo et robustoso et forte.

Laudato si, mi signore, per sora nostra matre terra,la quale ne sustenta et governaet produce diversi fructi con coloriti flori et herba.

Laudato si, mi signore, per sora nostra matre terra,

la quale ne sustenta et governa

et produce diversi fructi con coloriti flori et herba.

Laudato si, mi signore, per quilli ke perdonano per lo tuo amoreet sostegno infirmitate et tribulatione,beati quilli ke sosterrano in pace,ka da te, altissimo, sirano incoronati.

Laudato si, mi signore, per quilli ke perdonano per lo tuo amoreet sostegno infirmitate et tribulatione,

beati quilli ke sosterrano in pace,

ka da te, altissimo, sirano incoronati.

Laudato si, mi signore, per sora nostra morte corporale,da la quale nullu homo vivente po skappare;guai a quilli ke morrano ne le peccata mortali;beata quilli ke se trovarà ne, le tue sanctissime voluntali,ka la morte secunda nol farrà male.

Laudato si, mi signore, per sora nostra morte corporale,

da la quale nullu homo vivente po skappare;

guai a quilli ke morrano ne le peccata mortali;

beata quilli ke se trovarà ne, le tue sanctissime voluntali,

ka la morte secunda nol farrà male.

Laudate et benedicete mi signore, et rengratiateet serviteli cum grande humilitate."

Laudate et benedicete mi signore, et rengratiate

et serviteli cum grande humilitate."

The following is the almost literal rendering by Matthew Arnold:—

"O most High, almighty, good Lord God, to Thee belong praise, glory, honour, and all blessing!Praised be my Lord God, with all His creatures; and specially our brother the Sun, who brings us the day, and who brings us the light; fair is he, and shining with a very great splendour: O Lord, he signifies to us Thee!Praised be my Lord for our sister the moon, and for the stars, which He has set clear and lovely in heaven.Praised be our Lord for our brother the wind, and for air and cloud, calms and all weather, by the which Thou upholdest in life all creatures.Praised be my Lord for our sister water, who is very serviceable unto us, and humble, and precious, and clean.Praised be my Lord for our brother fire, through whom Thou givest us light in the darkness; and he is bright, and pleasant, and very mighty and strong.Praised be my Lord for our mother the earth, the which doth sustain us, and keep us, and bringeth forthdivers fruits and flowers of many colours, and grass.Praised be my Lord for all those who pardon one another for His love's sake, and who endure weakness and tribulation; blessed are they who peaceably shall endure, for Thou, O most Highest, shalt give them a crown!Praised be my Lord for our sister the death of the body, from whom no man escapeth. Woe to him who dieth in mortal sin! Blessed are they who are found walking in Thy most holy will, for the second death shall have no power to do them harm.Praise ye and bless ye the Lord, and give thanks unto Him, and serve Him with great humility."

"O most High, almighty, good Lord God, to Thee belong praise, glory, honour, and all blessing!

Praised be my Lord God, with all His creatures; and specially our brother the Sun, who brings us the day, and who brings us the light; fair is he, and shining with a very great splendour: O Lord, he signifies to us Thee!

Praised be my Lord for our sister the moon, and for the stars, which He has set clear and lovely in heaven.

Praised be our Lord for our brother the wind, and for air and cloud, calms and all weather, by the which Thou upholdest in life all creatures.

Praised be my Lord for our sister water, who is very serviceable unto us, and humble, and precious, and clean.

Praised be my Lord for our brother fire, through whom Thou givest us light in the darkness; and he is bright, and pleasant, and very mighty and strong.

Praised be my Lord for our mother the earth, the which doth sustain us, and keep us, and bringeth forthdivers fruits and flowers of many colours, and grass.

Praised be my Lord for all those who pardon one another for His love's sake, and who endure weakness and tribulation; blessed are they who peaceably shall endure, for Thou, O most Highest, shalt give them a crown!

Praised be my Lord for our sister the death of the body, from whom no man escapeth. Woe to him who dieth in mortal sin! Blessed are they who are found walking in Thy most holy will, for the second death shall have no power to do them harm.

Praise ye and bless ye the Lord, and give thanks unto Him, and serve Him with great humility."

He lingered many weeks at San Damiano, being greatly refreshed by the sweet peace he found there, and his gentle and sympathetic talks with his early convert,St. Clare, who seems to have been as capable and practical as she was good and holy. After a while she persuaded him to journey to Rieti, and take the advice of the doctors.

At Rieti all those who had previously known him were greatly shocked by the change in his health. The doctors seem to have tormented him by their efforts to restore his sight, even branding his forehead with red-hot irons; Francis bore all with the utmost patience and sweetness, striving to conform himself to the pattern set by his Divine example.

When he at last set forth to return home, he could go no farther than Assisi; Bishop Guido had sent him a pressing invitation to stay in his palace, while a strong guard was appointed to protect him on the way, the fame of his sanctity having made him so precious that it was feared an attempt might be made to capture his poor suffering body.

His four most devoted followersnursed him through the weeks that followed, these were Leo, Angelo, Masseo, and Rufino.

He remained some months at Assisi, and amid his worst sufferings poured out such hymns of joy and thankfulness, that Fra Elia, who doubtless was already coveting the power that would so soon be in his grasp, remonstrated with the dying saint.

Sick persons, Elia said, were expected to edify others by their resigned and saintly demeanour, not by singing so loud that they could be heard outside the palace walls. Francis had often asked his companions to join in his songs; his own sweet voice had become feeble.

He had more than ever need of joy, for with the best intentions one of his most saintly companions was troubling his peace by recounting the changes worked in the simplicity of the Rule which Francis so dearly cherished: how larger monasteries were erected forthe increasing communities, instead of the small, roughly built houses which he had always prescribed as suited for the abodes of begging friars; friars vowed to possess nothing of their own. Francis listened, but he had already seen these changes: he bade the Brother have faith and trust in God, and never to forsake the Rule or the Portioncula.

Soon after this he expressed a wish to return to the little shrine if he had power to make the journey, adding quaintly:

"I cannot go so far afoot, my Brothers; you must be good enough to carry me."

Half-way to the Portioncula he bade his bearers stop. Raising his hand, he gave his last blessing to the town of Assisi, which he could no longer see because of his blindness.

Soon after his arrival he asked Fra Leo to summon by letter the Lady Jacoba dei Settesoli, a widow who lived in Rome, being the mother of two Roman senators. He knew her devotion to him,and to the Franciscan Orders, and he feared she would grieve if he did not bid her farewell.

Just as the letter was finished, a trampling of horses was heard outside, and Madonna Jacoba appeared; she had felt anxious about her beloved teacher, and had set forth of her own accord to see him.

She was only just in time; very soon afterwards, having dictated his testament and received the last rites, he passed away.

All Italy mourned him, but the grief of the people of Assisi was indescribable. On the way to his burial place in San Giorgio the procession stopped outside San Damiano, so that Clare and her Sisters might come forth and take a last farewell of their revered Father.

The death of St. Francis has been well told by Miss Lina Duff Gordon inThe Story of Assisi.

The more one studies the life of this gentle saint, who lived and worked forthe love and glory of God; the devotion shown in his ardour to save souls; the practical help he gave to all; his complete abnegation of self, and the happiness which he showed to be the duty of every one, the more one wonders at the frequent persecution of Franciscans. They seem to be best off at La Vernia. When we at last drove away from Assisi, along the dusty roads, which, to those who read theFioretti, are full of flower-like memories of the sweet-natured saint and his favourite companions, Fra Leone, Fra Egidio, Fra Masseo, and others, the sun was setting gloriously; Subasio glowed like a carbuncle as it reflected the gold and scarlet splendour opposite, and while this glow faded slowly into purple, the long line of the houses of Assisi blushed like a rose beside the mountain. We watched till the purple became a rich grey, painted with pale brown tints, while the sky just above the ridge of hills was palest green, changing intoyellow above. Long lines of purple barred these delicate tints, and on the bluer, now cool, sky opposite lay rounded masses of white cloud with grey under-edges.

It was dark before we drove up the steep road into Perugia, and reached our comfortable quarters in the Hotel Brufani.

September had nearly fled, yet the leaves in the Tronto garden had hardly begun to change colour; the air, however, was now extremely cold as soon as the sun had departed. The wine-carts which daily thronged the streets warned us that the vintage would soon be over.

Day after day, as we looked from our windows in early morning, we saw flocks of sheep with their attendant shepherds, and herds of goats coming down in great numbers from the mountains. They trooped past our windows, and took their way along the dusty road towards the Maremma.

The poor, tired herdmen looked picturesquein ragged thin trousers and patched coats; they wore high-peaked hats, and had a sort of make-believe appearance as they trudged along on foot behind their beasts. Every now and then came a padrone mounted on a mule, sometimes on a horse, with quaint trappings; he always carried a long pole and a huge roll of green baize in front of him. We did not see any women or children, but we were told that the shepherds take their families along with them in these spring and autumn migrations, for they will go back to the hills as soon as winter is over. As we watched them we felt sadly that we too must soon say goodbye to Perugia.

One of our last walks was to Monte Luce; and, coming back towards Perugia, we stopped and watched the sun set; as it sank behind the purple, bleak hills the sky above them was blood-red; higher up, stretched in long broad lines, was a mass of greenish slate-coloured clouds. On the right these were reft,and showed a sea of golden glory; while, still higher, clouds of paler grey sailed over a rosy veil that stretched itself across a sky of luminous green. As we went on, the blood-red tint paled and faded; the clouds above took a darker hue, and loomed, with storm-laden, broken edges, over the deep valley that lay between where we stood and the projecting bastion, a view crowned by the weird tower of San Domenico. This stood up in startling vividness against the almost appalling gloom that had so quickly gathered.

Around us the view opened widely, the triple range of hills showed a sullen grey of differing tints; on some of them, where the light was lurid with a tawny tinge, it was plainly raining; yet, although thunder seemed imminent in the humid clouds that hung lower and lower over the valley, we were told that probably there would not be a storm at Perugia. Certainly, we had perfect atmosphere and perfect weather. Thehill-city seemed to us in all ways very healthy—a place where winter and spring, summer and autumn, might alike be spent with charm and profit by those travellers who love the nature and art of Italy.

OLIVEBRANCH.

The most interesting part of the journey to Cortona is the view of Lake Thrasymene, with its reedy shores and islands, near the picturesque little town of Passignano.

As one leaves the station below Cortona, and mounts the hill to the grandly placed town, Thrasymene comes in sight again, and adds much to the beauty of the landscape. It is almost worth while to go to Cortona for the sake of the drive up from the station, and the exquisite view from the city walls, ponderous marvels of stone-work. But Cortona is not a desirable place to sleepin. The inn, when we stayed there, was not at all comfortable, and although the town is placed at such a height, the moss growing outside the houses tells how damp is the atmosphere.

If Perugia had seemed ancient, Cortona appeared antediluvian. According to the old historians, Perugia sent soldiers to fight against Troy, but Cortona boasts of having given birth to Dardanus, the founder of Assisi.

It was late afternoon when we reached the top of the hill, and when we took our way from the inn through the hilly, twisting streets to the Porta Colonia, the sun had already set, although the sky still glowed.

Lake Thrasymene looked pale and weird against the olive landscape. Before us was a deep valley backed by a warm, purple mountain ridge; behind us was the stupendous Etruscan wall. We followed the course of this down the steep descent, for Cortona is built on the side of a rocky hill which yettowers above it. The blocks of travertine in the wall are even larger than those at Perugia. Nestling between them, we found a wealth of ferns; ceterach and several delicate aspleniums growing freely among these grim records of past ages.

OLIVE-TREES, LAKE THRASYMENE.

Suddenly, while we were stooping to look closely at the ferns in the fading light, there came to us, as if from the clouds, a full-voiced chant; deep organ notes swelled above the sweet tones of treble voices.

We looked up and saw that a convent is built above the walls. We stood for some time on this side of the hill listening to the aerial music. Behind us was the deep purple of the valley,—the vast plain below was changing into a brown olive, a wild, desolate-looking expanse; but there was overhead a peculiar clearness of atmosphere.

The young moon hung high above the convent towers; its light helped us to find our way over the rough ground, till at last we reached one of the citygates, and went back through the dark streets to our inn.

There was not a deserted or sleepy look about the place. People were gossiping and trafficking in the streets, and there were plenty of customers in the shop we went into.

Our bedroom at the inn looked alarmingly dismal; large and lofty, it contained an enormous four-poster with a heavy, dark green canopy and curtains. Everything looked and smelt damp; but when we asked to have the bed aired, our host said, "Such a thing is impossible at this time of year."

Next morning we found a busy market on the hilly Piazza. The town hall is here, and some women spreading out orange and scarlet handkerchiefs in the loggia above gave colour to the scene; but the people looked somewhat squalid and dirty after our bright Perugians; moreover, Cortona folk are indifferent and sometimes uncourteous to strangers.

PALAZZO COMUNALE, CORTONA.

We turned into a side street to see afine palazzo; then, crossing the market-place, went on to the Palazzo Pretoria. The walls of this building, both in the street and those round the inner quadrangle, are curiously decorated with small shields bearing the arms of ancient magistrates; they reminded us of the Bargello walls in Florence.

We went upstairs, and were told that the custode of the museum was not in, but if we waited he would be sure to come soon. We had, however, to send more than one messenger in search of him before he appeared. There are many Etruscan and some Roman antiquities in this museum, but its chief treasure is the famous candelabrum. This holds sixteen lamps; between each lamp is a head of Bacchus, while eight satyrs and eight sirens, placed alternately, form a marvellously rich border. Within this circle is represented a fight with wild animals, then waves and fish, with a Medusa's head as centre. The colour of the candelabrum, anexquisite mingling of blue and bronze, is beautiful. Near it is a painting on stone—a female—said to be very ancient.

BRONZE CANDELABRUM.

After the museum we went into the cathedral; the pictures painted by Luca Signorelli for his native town are here. Luca was born at Cortona, and was a pupil of Piero della Francesca. Near the choir is a beautifully carved marble tomb, in which the people believe the Consul Flaminius was buried after the battle of Thrasymene.

We had not time to visit the baptisteryopposite, which also contains pictures by Luca and by Fra Angelico. We were anxious to see the view from the church of Santa Margherita, above the town. Her statue stands just outside the cathedral; a little dog crouches at her feet.

Margherita was not a native of Cortona; she lived for pleasure only; on her repentance she entered a Franciscan convent here, and passed a life of charity and holy penitence for her sins. Her conversion is said to have taken place on the sudden death of one of her lovers.

As he left her house, accompanied by his little dog, he was assassinated. The little dog came back to Margherita's house, and by its cries attracted her notice; it then pulled at her gown, till it induced her to follow to where her lover lay dead. For this reason Santa Margherita is always represented with a little dog beside her.

We went along the road past the platform, where there is a fine viewover the Chiana valley, and turned in to old San Domenico to see the pictures. The campanile of this church is a picturesque feature of Cortona. We could only see two of the pictures, neither of them very remarkable. Another was being restored, the custode said. The walk from this point up to Santa Margherita was delightful. The sunshine was brilliant, and the air had a delicious touch of autumn crispness. The way beside the wall is steep, but there are constant views over the country, and gradually, as we mounted, Lake Thrasymene revealed itself in pale blue-green loveliness; a projecting hill, however, partly blocks the view, and only allows about half of the lake's grand expanse to be seen. The yellow turf was gay with wild flowers, some of them rare specimens. When we at last reached the church, we were rewarded for our climb.

Santa Margherita was designed and probably built by Niccolo and GiovanniPisano, but it has been very much restored; the view from its platform is magnificent. In front is a screen of tall cypresses, between which the purple hills show exquisitely. The spacious church originally designed by Niccolo Pisano has been re-modelled, but there is a beautiful monument to Santa Margherita by Giovanni Pisano. Santa Margherita's tomb reminded us of Pope Benedict's at Perugia. The saint lies sleeping with her little dog at her feet; in a bas-relief she yields her soul to angels, who bear it to Heaven.

The Fortezza behind the church is said to command a still finer view, but we were quite satisfied to sit on the flowery turf enjoying the surpassing loveliness below us. Hills and valleys, far-reaching plains, the still lake, and the sky overhead, seemed to vie with one another in beauty, yet to blend into such perfect harmony that the sensation of gazing was one of complete repose.

Down a long, long flight of irregular steps we found our way to the quaint little church of St. Nicholas. While we sat gazing we had watched a woman go down these steps, so we felt sure they would lead us somewhere; they took us to the queerest little up-and-down village imaginable, a village of mendicants; every one begged of us, the children being very pertinacious.

One bright-eyed monkey of a boy, with bare brown legs and feet, and a red cap stuck over one eye, followed us down the broken way, dancing and chattering as he came. All at once he stopped and pointed to three younger children, sitting in a mud pool outside a cottage door, even more ragged and dirty, but quite as bright-looking as he was.

I asked him if he had a father or a mother, but he shook his head.

"Oimè, Signora!—io son padre di famiglia," he said, with a merry laugh, and he pointed again to the black-eyed urchins.

We joined in his laugh; his face and his tiny outstretched hand were irresistible. He shouted for joy when we dropped a coin into it; after this, at the end of every turning we passed, there was our bright-eyed, dirty little beggar, with outstretched brown hand and the sauciest of smiles. When we shook our heads at him he capered away, the soles of his slender brown feet almost as high as his head.

The little church of San Nicola is hidden away among the houses, with a quaint little grassed cloister court in front of it, and a row of ancient cypresses. On one side is a little cloister walk; a vine-covered pergola supported itself by filling up the small space inclosed. In the church is an altar picture, painted on both sides, this is said to be one of the last works of Luca Signorelli. The fresco, said also to be his, has been much restored. This little church belonged to a confraternity, and the seats still remain along the sidesof the front court in which the Brethren have sat in council, or from which they have enjoyed the view over the wall that borders this quiet cloister.

As we drove rapidly downhill to the station, we looked at the country through a silver veil, for the olive-trees are larger here than at Perugia, and they literally cover the first part of the steep descent,—so steep that the road has to descend by terraces zig-zagged along the side of the hill.

We had told our red-haired, blue-eyed driver to take us to the Etruscan grotto, and he presently stopped at a rough break, with large stones placed so as to form irregular steps.

The man was in fear lest the horse should run away, and was greatly excited. He went on chattering patois to that effect; but though I told him I was quite able to climb up by myself, he would stand at the top of the steps hauling me up with one hand andflourishing his whip with the other, as if he were performing a circus feat.

We left him there, and presently entered a solemn grassed avenue of gigantic cypresses, their pale grey stems gleaming in the sunlight. This avenue slopes upward, and at the end the ruined grotto shows between the lines of tall dark trees; it is very curious, circular in form, with neatly finished compartments in it for the urns. These have all been taken away; only part of the circular top of the sepulchre remains, lying near the ruined stone; but even in its fractured state it is very impressive; alone on the hillside, screened from the immense prospect before it by a surrounding of olive-trees. As we drove down to the railway, far below us, it seemed to us it had been quite worth while to stay at Cortona for the sake of this wonderful drive down the steep hillside; but the town is probably safer from damp in August than we found it in October.

Alunno, Niccolo,75.Statue of,81.Angelus, the,136.Apennines,7.Assisi, way to,165.Albergo Subasio,176.Carceri, le,224.Chiara Scifi, or S. Clare, conversion of,244.Churches—S. Chiara,249.S. Damiano,214-216,252,283.S. Francesco, campanile,180.Lower church,179.Cloister garden,201.Upper church,202.S. Giorgio,233.S. Maria degli Angeli,172,260.Rose garden,262.S. Maria Maggiore,234.Nuova,233.S. Paolo,233.Cathedral of S. Rufino,232.Fra Egidio,240.Elia,194.Leone,168.Masseo,273.S. Francis, birth and parentage,206; dream of,208; visits lazar house,210; breaks with his friends,211; his father's anger,213; goes to S. Damiano,214; conversion of,215; markets at Foligno,215; renounces the world,221; converts Bernard and others,237; goes to Rome,241; gains Pope's sanction to Order of Brothers Minor,242; lives at Rivo Torto,242; preaches in S. Rufino,245; founds second Order the Poor Clares,248; visits the Soldan,266; his last visit to La Vernia,280; vision of the Stigmata,282; visits S. Chiara,283; composes Canticle of the Sun,284; visits Bishop Guido,289; returns to the Portioncula,291; Madonna Jacoba di Settesoli visits him,291; he dies,292.Brother Juniper,268,276,279.Palazzo Sbaraglini,239. Scifi,244.Piazza S. Maria Maggiore,221.Porta Cappucini,224. Nuova,214.La Portioncula,235,243,247,260,265,268.Rocca di Assisi,255.Roman Assisi,232.Temple of Minerva,231.Tomb of S. Francis,193.Baglione, Astorre,48,49,52,53.Atalanta,47,58,59,62.Gianpaolo,56-58,60,61,63,65.Grifonetto,50-53,55,59,61,62.Simonetto,48.Baglioni, the,45-47.Bergamo, Damiano and Stefano da, intarsia by,126.S. Bernardino of Siena,33,37.Bevignate, Fra,33.Bonfigli, Benedetto,5,73.Cacciolfo,87.Cimabue,190.Frescoes by,202.Cortona,299.Candelabrum,307.Cathedral,308.Church of S. Domenico,310.S. Margherita,310.S. Nicholas,313.Etruscan grotto,315.Palazzo Pretoria,307.Dante's mention of Assisi and of S. Francis,175.Ducci, Agostino,105.Foligno,81.Cathedral,82.S. Maria infra Portas,83.S. Niccolo,83.Palazzo Deli,83.Tribunale del Commune,82.Forte Braccio,39,43,44.Fra Angelico,75,112.Giotto,188.Frescoes by,188,192,195,205.Guidalotti, Abbot of S. Pietro de' Casinensi,42.Keys of Assisi and Siena,34.Lorenzetti, Pietro, of Siena,191.Lorenzo, Fiorenzo di,73,74,233.S. Margherita,309.Martini, or Memmi, Simone, of Siena,192.Matarazzo,46,54,64.Michelotti, Biordo,42,43.Montefalco,83.Nelli, Ottaviano, frescoes by,82.Perugia,1.Belle arti Albergo,10.Bellucci, Signor,17.S. Bernardino of Siena,111-118.Oratory of,97,105,111.Betti, Signor,15,16.Brufani hotel,10.Cappella del Cambio,72.Charms,17-20.Churches—S. Agata,101.S. Angelo,158.S. Bernardino,105.S. Domenico,23.S. Ercolano,14,133.S. Lorenzo,35.Madonna di Luce,102.S. Maria Assunta,134.S. Maria Nuova,40.S. Pietro de' Casinensi,119.S. Severo,38.Corso,32.Cupa, La,138.Daybreak at,11.El gran tradimento,54-57.Etruscan wall,15.Fontana Borghese,79.Fonte Maggiore,33.Griffin,34.Market,24.Monte Luce,134.Mosaic pavement,148.Palazzo Antinori,151.Baglione,14.Canonica,33.del Capitano del Popolo,27.Pubblico, or Comunale,32,34,35.Passeggiata Pubblica,119.Perugino,4,5,73.House of,101.Piazza del Duomo,32,35,41.dei Gigli,38.Grimani,16.Monte Sole,38.del Papa,36.Sopra Mura,24.Vittor Emanuele,14.Pinacoteca,69,75.Pope Benedict XI., statue of,24.Boniface,123.Julius III., statue of,36.Paul III.,13,66.Porta Augusta,151,152.Buligaia,156.Costanzo,119,129.Eburnea,142.Marzia,13,15.S. Pietro,129.S. Angelo,158.Susanna,13.Sala del Cambio,69,70.Tombs of the Volumnii,130.Via Appia,143.Women,28,29,30.Piccinino, Nicola,44.Piero della Francesca,69,73.Pinturicchio,87-89.Pisano, Giovanni,33,34,184.Pisano, Nicolo,33.Ponte San Giovanni,80.Sunsets,128.Veduta, La,119.Raffaelle,3,4.Rocca di Vicenza,87.Rossi,34.Sabatier, Monsieur Paul,171,206.Sanzio, Giovanni,3.Savonarola,37.Spello,84.Amphitheatre,91.Capuchin Convent,91.Churches—Santa Maria Maggiore,87.Capella del Sacramento,87.Frescoes in,87.San Andrea,89.Porta Augusta,92.Porta Veneris of Hispellum,84.Spoleto,43,200,209.Subasio, Monte,7,80,81.Tasso, Domenico del, intarsia by,70.Thrasymene, Lake of,300.Trevi,87.Ugolino, Bishop of Ostia,265.Vannucci, Cristoforo,4.Vannucci, Pietro,4,70.La Vernia,224.S. Vincent Ferrier,113.Witches, belief, in,20.

Printed byMorrison & Gibb LimitedEdinburgh

Back to Index Next