The
refined features had that subtle expression of suffering and lassitude
which lends the human charm to the Virgins of the Florentine _tondi_ of
the time of Cosimo. A soft and tender shadow, the fusion of two
diaphanous tints--violet and blue, lay under her eyes, which had the
leonine irises of the brown-haired angels. Her hair lay on her forehead
and temples like a heavy crown, and was gathered into a massive coil on
her neck. The shorter locks in front were thick and waving as those that
cover the head of the Farnese Antinous. Nothing could exceed the charm
of that delicate head, which seemed to droop under its burden as under
some divine chastisement.
'Dio mio!' she sighed, endeavouring to lighten with her hands the weight
of tresses gathered up and compressed under her hat. 'My head aches as
if I had been hanging by the hair for an hour. I cannot keep it fastened
up for long together, it tires me so. It is a perfect slavery.'
'Do you remember at school,' broke in Francesca, 'how we were all wild
to comb your hair? It led to furious quarrels every day. Fancy,
Andrea--at last it came to bloodshed! Oh, I shall never forget the scene
between Carlotta Fiordelise and Gabriella Vanni. It got to be sheer
monomania. To comb Maria Bandinelli's hair was the one ambition in life
of every school-girl there--big or little.
Pages:
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161