Father had traveled to Florence to the Mercato Nuovo, staying away for a half year at a time paying court to the house of the silk merchant Iovelli, which was patronized by none other than the Medicis. The two friends contrasted strikingly with each other. “Oh Christ! How old were you?” “Just—well, I was young. If you’ll forgive my saying that, and implying what goes with it. "Well, how goes it?" he asked.
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