Agnes of Sorrento
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Оглавление
Stowe Harriet Beecher. Agnes of Sorrento
INTRODUCTORY NOTE
CHAPTER I. THE OLD TOWN
CHAPTER II. THE DOVE-COT
CHAPTER III. THE GORGE
CHAPTER IV. WHO AND WHAT
CHAPTER V. IL PADRE FRANCESCO
CHAPTER VI. THE WALK TO THE CONVENT
CHAPTER VII. THE DAY AT THE CONVENT
CHAPTER VIII. THE CAVALIER
CHAPTER IX. THE ARTIST MONK
CHAPTER X. THE INTERVIEW
CHAPTER XI. THE CONFESSIONAL
CHAPTER XII. PERPLEXITIES
CHAPTER XIII. THE MONK AND THE CAVALIER
CHAPTER XIV. THE MONK'S STRUGGLE
CHAPTER XV. THE SERPENT'S EXPERIMENT
CHAPTER XVI. ELSIE PUSHES HER SCHEME
CHAPTER XVII. THE MONK'S DEPARTURE
CHAPTER XVIII. THE PENANCE
CHAPTER XIX. CLOUDS DEEPENING
CHAPTER XX. FLORENCE AND HER PROPHET
CHAPTER XXI. THE ATTACK ON SAN MARCO
CHAPTER XXII. THE CATHEDRAL
CHAPTER XXIII. THE PILGRIMAGE
CHAPTER XXIV. THE MOUNTAIN FORTRESS
CHAPTER XXV. THE CRISIS
CHAPTER XXVI. ROME
CHAPTER XXVII. THE SAINT'S REST
CHAPTER XXVIII. PALM SUNDAY
CHAPTER XXIX. THE NIGHT-RIDE
CHAPTER XXX "LET US ALSO GO, THAT WE MAY DIE WITH HIM"
CHAPTER XXXI. MARTYRDOM
CHAPTER XXXII. CONCLUSION
Отрывок из книги
The setting sunbeams slant over the antique gateway of Sorrento, fusing into a golden bronze the brown freestone vestments of old Saint Antonio, who with his heavy stone mitre and upraised hands has for centuries kept watch thereupon.
A quiet time he has of it up there in the golden Italian air, in petrified act of blessing, while orange lichens and green mosses from year to year embroider quaint patterns on the seams of his sacerdotal vestments, and small tassels of grass volunteer to ornament the folds of his priestly drapery, and golden showers of blossoms from some more hardy plant fall from his ample sleeve-cuffs. Little birds perch and chitter and wipe their beaks unconcernedly, now on the tip of his nose and now on the point of his mitre, while the world below goes on its way pretty much as it did when the good saint was alive, and, in despair of the human brotherhood, took to preaching to the birds and the fishes.
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"So, so," she said to Agnes, when she had closed the gate after Elsie, – "you never come empty-handed. What lovely oranges! – worth double any that one can buy of anybody else but your grandmother."
"Yes, and these flowers I brought to dress the altar."
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