DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.36839#0403
MEMORIES OF URBINO
861
Under the influence of this strong emotion the
past rose up before him with new vividness. He
saw again the palace of Urbino lifting its towers into
the evening skies, and heard the shouts of rejoicing
crowds, as he and his comrades followed the Duke
in gallant array up the mountain-side. Once more
he listened to the gracious voice that bade them
welcome, as they passed under the great portals and
entered the presence of the Lady Duchess. He
recalled the vaulted halls, with their fretwork of ivory
and gold, ringing to the sound of music and laughter,
as cavaliers and ladies danced and sang together,
the little rooms where he and his friends talked
of art and love through the livelong night, until the
stars had faded from the sky and the distant peaks
caught the red glow of sunrise. As he looked back
across a whole lifetime of toil and trouble on those
joyous days, a strange glamour seemed to light up the
past, and he felt how rare and wonderful was that
little world to which he had once belonged. Now all
was changed. The Duke and Duchess were dead,
the spacious halls were silent and deserted, the
brilliant company was scattered, and few remained
to tell the tale of that Round Table and its glorious
chivalry. As Castiglione lingered with Navagero on
the sunny slopes of the Alhambra or in the hanging
gardens of Generalife, and heard the wondrous
tales that Cortes brought back from Mexico, he
began to realize that the old order was changing
fast, and that a new era was dawning on the
world's horizon. In the coming age new fashions
and fresh modes of thought would prevail, and old
forms and customs would be laid aside. Other lords
would bear rule over the land where the good Duke
and Duchess had reigned. The heroes and scholars
861
Under the influence of this strong emotion the
past rose up before him with new vividness. He
saw again the palace of Urbino lifting its towers into
the evening skies, and heard the shouts of rejoicing
crowds, as he and his comrades followed the Duke
in gallant array up the mountain-side. Once more
he listened to the gracious voice that bade them
welcome, as they passed under the great portals and
entered the presence of the Lady Duchess. He
recalled the vaulted halls, with their fretwork of ivory
and gold, ringing to the sound of music and laughter,
as cavaliers and ladies danced and sang together,
the little rooms where he and his friends talked
of art and love through the livelong night, until the
stars had faded from the sky and the distant peaks
caught the red glow of sunrise. As he looked back
across a whole lifetime of toil and trouble on those
joyous days, a strange glamour seemed to light up the
past, and he felt how rare and wonderful was that
little world to which he had once belonged. Now all
was changed. The Duke and Duchess were dead,
the spacious halls were silent and deserted, the
brilliant company was scattered, and few remained
to tell the tale of that Round Table and its glorious
chivalry. As Castiglione lingered with Navagero on
the sunny slopes of the Alhambra or in the hanging
gardens of Generalife, and heard the wondrous
tales that Cortes brought back from Mexico, he
began to realize that the old order was changing
fast, and that a new era was dawning on the
world's horizon. In the coming age new fashions
and fresh modes of thought would prevail, and old
forms and customs would be laid aside. Other lords
would bear rule over the land where the good Duke
and Duchess had reigned. The heroes and scholars