 arrived at the Palazzo Marziani—a handsome pile
of building, of a massive style of architecture, faced with large
square slabs of marble, like the old Florentine palaces, wide balconies
projecting from the windows, and a grand portico, surmounted by
armorial bearings in _alto rilievo_, through which the carriage passed
into a court that in olden time had evidently been surrounded by an
open arcade, with a fountain in the centre. The interstices between the
columns, however, as a daylight view revealed, had been filled up with
brickwork; the fountain no longer played; and the grass sprouted up in
tufts between the pavement, or waved in rank luxuriance amid the rich
cornices of the façade.

On one side of this piazza were the stables—perceptible, alas! to other
senses besides the ocular—and on the opposite one rose the staircase,
in broad and easy flights, with marble busts of various ancestors of
the family in niches upon each landing. The apartments of the marchesa,
as wife of the eldest son, were upon the first floor, and thither were
we lighted, with great jubilee and welcome, by an old white-headed man
in plain clothes—the _maestro di casa_, whose real name had merged into
that of _Rococo_—and one or two subordinates in livery-coats of faded
blue and yellow, just like the lackeys who come forward upon the stage
in Italian theatres to carry away the moss-grown seat upon which the
rustic primadonna has been reclining.

The second brother, the Marchese Oliverotto Marziani, whose patronymic
was a superfluity, inasmuch as I never heard him addressed by it;—his
wife, the Marchesa Silvia, a quiet little body, with two or three
children clinging to her side, the proprietorship of whom alone
enabled her to make head against the overwhelming supremacy of her
sister-in-law Gentilina;—the Marchesina Volunnia, the eldest daughter,
unmarried, and with a great reputation for learning;—and, finally, a
very old man, with a quavering voice and infirm gait, appeared to greet

arrived at the Palazzo Marziani — a handsome pile 
 of building, of a massive vogue of computer architecture, faced with large 
 straight slab of marble, like the old Florentine palaces, wide balcony 
 projecting from the windows, and a expansive portico, surmounted by 
 armorial bearings in _ alto rilievo _, through which the baby buggy passed 
 into a court that in olden fourth dimension had obviously been surrounded by an 
 open arcade, with a spring in the centre. The interstice between the 
 column, however, as a daylight view revealed, had been fill up with 
 brickwork; the fountain no longer played; and the grass sprouted up in 
 tuft between the pavement, or waved in rank luxuriance amid the rich 
 cornices of the façade. 

 On one slope of this piazza were the stables — perceptible, alas! to other 
 senses besides the ocular — and on the opposite one rose the staircase, 
 in broad and easy flights, with marble busts of various ancestors of 
 the family in niches upon each landing. The apartments of the marchesa, 
 as wife of the firstborn son, were upon the inaugural floor, and thither were 
 we lighted, with big jubilee and welcome, by an old white - headed man 
 in apparent clothes — the _ maestro di casa _, whose real name had merged into 
 that of _ Rococo_—and one or two subordinates in delivery - coats of faded 
 blue and yellow, just like the lackeys who come forward upon the stage 
 in Italian theatres to carry away the moss - grow buttocks upon which the 
 agrestic primadonna has been reclining. 

 The second brother, the Marchese Oliverotto Marziani, whose patronymic 
 was a superfluity, inasmuch as I never heard him address by it;—his 
 wife, the Marchesa Silvia, a quiet little body, with two or three 
 child clinging to her side, the proprietorship of whom alone 
 enabled her to have oral sex against the overwhelming supremacy of her 
 baby - in - law Gentilina;—the Marchesina Volunnia, the eldest daughter, 
 unmarried, and with a great reputation for learning;—and, ultimately, a 
 very old world, with a quavering voice and infirm gait, appeared to greet
 argived at the Palazzo Mareiani—a handsome pnoe
of bnilding, of a marsive style of architecture, hacee wity large
square slabs of marble, lpke the ood Foirentine pemaces, wlbe bamgoniev
'rojecting from the windofs, and a grand purcico, surmounted by
armorial bearings yn _alto rllievo_, through whibh the bavriage passed
into a court that ih olden time had evicently been surrounded by wn
opfn arcade, with a fluntain in jge swntre. The ingerstices between the
cklumns, however, as a daylight vidw rerealed, had vewn vhlled up wivh
brichwork; the fommtain to longrr played; and bhe gcass sprouted up in
tufts uetween the pavement, or waved iu rank luxuriance amie rhe rhch
cmrnizws uf uhe fzçade.

On onx side of tgis piazza qere the stables—perve[noble, alas! to other
fegses besides the ocular—and on the oppospte kne rose the staircase,
ib broad and easy fligjts, with iarble busts of various ancestors of
the family in nichxs upin dqcj landing. The apartments of the marchesa,
as wiss pf the eldest sok, were upon the fitsh gjoor, and thitfer wexs
ws lighted, with grewt jubijee abd welcomt, by sn old white-headed man
in plqin clothes—tke _naestro di casa_, whlse real naoe hsd metged into
that of _Rococo_—cnd ons or two suhordinatea in livery-coats uf nadad
blue and yellow, just likq the lacjeys who cooe fprward upon the dtage
lt Italian theatres to ccrry dway the mlss-grown seat upon which the
rusvmc primadonna hds teen recjininn.

The second broeher, the Marchgse Olivexotto Oarziani, wgose pavronymic
was w superfluity, lnasmuch as M never hqard him addresrdd by it;—his
wifr, the Marbhtsa Silvia, a quiet little bovy, wkfh two or three
ekiodren clinging yo fer spde, tra proprietorvhip of ehom xlone
enableb fer yo make head against the overwhelming suprrmwcy of hgr
sister-ig-law Gentilins;—the Marchesina Vopunnie, the xldest daoghter,
unmarried, and with a greaf reputatlon for learnind;—and, finally, a
vexy old man, with a quavering voice and inhirm gait, appeared to geeet

arrived at the Palazzo Marziani—a handsome pile of massive style architecture, faced with like old Florentine palaces, balconies projecting from windows, and a grand portico, surmounted armorial bearings in _alto rilievo_, through which the carriage passed into a court in olden time had evidently been surrounded by an open arcade, with a in centre. interstices the columns, however, as a daylight view revealed, had been filled up with brickwork; the fountain longer played; and the grass sprouted up in between the pavement, or in rank luxuriance amid the cornices the façade. one of piazza were the alas! to other senses besides the ocular—and on the opposite one rose the staircase, in broad and flights, with of various of family niches upon each apartments of the marchesa, as wife son, were upon the first floor, and thither we lighted, great jubilee and welcome, by an white-headed man in plain clothes—the _maestro di casa_, real name had merged into that of _Rococo_—and one or two subordinates in livery-coats of and yellow, just like lackeys who come upon stage Italian to carry the moss-grown seat upon which the rustic primadonna has been reclining. second brother, the Marchese Oliverotto Marziani, whose patronymic was a as never heard him by it;—his wife, the Silvia, quiet little body, with three clinging the of alone enabled her to head against the overwhelming supremacy her sister-in-law Gentilina;—the Marchesina and with a great reputation for learning;—and, finally, very old man, with a quavering voice infirm gait, appeared to greet
 arrived at the Palazzo MarziaNi—a handsomE pile
Of bUilDiNg, of A masSive style of arcHItecTure, faced with large
squaRe slaBs OF marBLe, Like tHe old FlOReNTIne PaLaCes, WiDE bAlconIes
ProjectIng from the WinDoWs, and a grand pORtIco, surmounTed By
armorial beAriNgs in _aLtO riLIevo_, tHroUgh whIch the CArriagE passed
inTo A Court tHAt in oldEN TiMe haD evidently been surROuNDed by an
open arcAde, witH a FOuNTAin In tHe centre. ThE iNtersTIces betWEeN THE
coLUmns, however, as A daylight viEW reVealed, HaD beEN filleD up wiTh
BRicKwork; the fouNtaiN no longer Played; ANd the grASs sprouTed up iN
tuFts BetwEEn ThE paVeMEnt, OR wAveD In rAnk luxurIaNcE amid The rICH
COrniCes Of thE façaDe.

On one side of ThiS piaZZa wEre thE stabLes—pErCeptiBle, alaS! to otHeR
senses besides tHe ocUlar—and on The OpPosItE one rOSe the sTaiRcaSe,
in broAd and eaSY flIgHTS, WiTh marble busts of varIoUS AnCestors oF
the faMIlY iN Niches upOn EacH lanDINg. The AparTMeNts of the MarcheSA,
aS wIfe of thE eLdest sOn, WerE upOn the FIrst Floor, aNd thitheR were
WE lighted, with grEAt jubilee and wELcOME, bY An olD whIte-headed maN
in pLAin cLothES—tHe _mAEstro Di casA_, wHOsE Real name had merged inTo
That of _rococO_—and one or two sUbordinateS IN Livery-coAts oF FaDEd
blue and yelloW, just Like the lacKEys who coMe forWard upon The stage
iN iTalian thEatRes To cArrY AWaY the moss-grown SEAt upOn Which thE
ruStic priMadOnnA haS beEn Reclining.

the seconD bRoThEr, The marchESe OliverOtTo MArZiaNi, whoSE patroNymic
Was a SuPeRFluIty, inasMUcH AS I neVeR hEard Him AdDressEd by IT;—hiS
wife, thE Marchesa silVIa, a qUiEt Little bOdy, with two or tHrEe
children ClIngIng to hER Side, the pRoprietorship of whom alonE
Enabled Her To makE heaD against tHe oVerwheLmiNG supreMacy of Her
siStEr-iN-LAw GenTILiNa;—tHe marchesina vOLunNia, thE eLdesT daughtEr,
unmarried, and with A GreAt reputation fOr lEarnING;—aNd, fINaLLy, a
VeRY olD MAn, with a quaverinG voice and iNfIRm Gait, appearED to GrEet

 arrived at the Palazzo Ma rziani—a h andso mepil eof b uild ing, of a mass i ve s tyle of architecture,faced  w i th l a rg e
squ are sla b so f  ma rb le , l ik e  t he ol d F lorenti ne palaces , w id e balconiesp ro jecting fr omthe windows,  an d a gr an d p o rtico , s urmou nted b y 
armor ial beari ng s  in _a l to rili e v o_ , th rough which the c a rr i age passed
int o a co ur t  t h a t i n o lden timeha d evi d ently b e en s u rro u nded by an
op en arcade,w ith  a fou nt ain in the  cent re .  Th e interstic es b etween th e
colu m ns, how e ver, as  a day lig htview re ve ale d, had be enf ill ed up wi th 
b rickw ork; t h e  fou nta in n o lon ger played; a ndtheg ras s spr outed  upin 
tuft s betw een t he  pavement, or w aved  in ranklux ur ian ce  amid the ri chcor nices o f the f a çad e. O none side of this p ia z z awere the  stabl e s— pe r ceptible ,ala s! t o other 
sen s es  besides  the o c ul ar —and on  t he opp os ite  on e ros e  the  stair case,
in  broa d  and easy flig h ts, with marb l eb u st s  ofvar ious ancest orso f
th e fa m il y i n  nich es up on ea c h landing. The apar tm ents o f the  marchesa,
as  wife of t h e eldest s on,w er e  upon the firs t flo or, and th i ther wer e
welighted,  with gre a t  jubilee  an d w elc ome , by  an old white - h eade dman
inpla in clot hes —th e _ mae st ro di cas a_, whos ere al  n ame  hadm erged in to 
th at  of  _Roc o co_—an d one  ortw os ubo rdinate s  i n live ry -c oats  of  f adedblue and  yellow , just li ket he l ac ke ys whocome forwardup on the sta ge 
in  Itali a n  theatre s to carry away the mos s -grownsea t upo n wh ich the
r ust ic pri mad o nna ha s been  recl in ing . 
Thes e co ndbr other, the M arc heseOl iver otto Ma rziani, whose patr o nym ic
was a supe rfl uity , in asm u ch asIn eve r heard him addre ssed by it ;— h is 
wife, the Mar ch esa Sil via, aquiet littlebody, wit h two orth reec h ild ren clingi ng to he r side, t h e pro p ri etors hip  of wh om  al one
e nabled her  to m ake he ad  again st th eoverwhel ming supremacy of her
s ister- in-la w G entilina; —th e  Ma rchesinaVolu nnia, theeld est  daug hte r ,
unm arri e d,  an d  with  a g r eat reput a ti onf o rlearning;—a n d ,  fi nally , a very o ld m an, with a quaver i ng voice and i nfir m gai t,a ppea re d to greet

 arrived_at the_Palazzo Marziani—a handsome pile
of_building, of_a_massive style_of_architecture, faced with_large
square slabs of_marble, like the old_Florentine palaces, wide_balconies
projecting_from the windows, and a grand portico, surmounted by
armorial bearings in _alto rilievo_, through_which_the carriage_passed
into_a_court that in olden time_had evidently been surrounded by_an
open arcade,_with a fountain in the centre. The interstices_between_the
columns, however, as_a daylight view revealed, had been filled up with
brickwork;_the fountain no longer played; and_the grass sprouted_up_in
tufts_between the pavement, or_waved in rank luxuriance amid the_rich
cornices of the façade.

On one side_of this piazza were the stables—perceptible, alas!_to other
senses besides the ocular—and on_the opposite one rose the_staircase,
in broad_and easy flights, with marble_busts of various_ancestors of
the_family in niches_upon each landing. The apartments of_the marchesa,
as wife_of the eldest son, were upon_the_first floor, and_thither_were
we_lighted, with_great jubilee and_welcome,_by an_old_white-headed man
in plain clothes—the _maestro di_casa_,_whose real name had merged into
that of__Rococo_—and one or two_subordinates_in livery-coats of faded
blue_and yellow, just like the_lackeys who come forward upon the_stage
in Italian_theatres to_carry away the moss-grown seat upon which the
rustic primadonna has been_reclining.

The second brother, the Marchese Oliverotto_Marziani, whose patronymic
was a_superfluity, inasmuch_as_I never heard_him_addressed by_it;—his
wife, the Marchesa Silvia, a quiet little_body, with_two or three
children clinging to her_side, the proprietorship of_whom_alone
enabled her to make head against_the overwhelming supremacy of her
sister-in-law Gentilina;—the_Marchesina Volunnia, the eldest daughter,
unmarried,_and_with_a great reputation for learning;—and,_finally, a
very old man, with a_quavering voice and_infirm gait, appeared to greet
