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Excerpt from Mademoiselle Mori, Vol. 1: A Tale of Modern Rome, in Two Volumes If the piazzas and streets below had not been equally crowded, all Rome might have been supposed on the Pincio. Languages from all parts of the world were heard there; foreigners and natives were blended together. Here, a magnificent Armenian prelate walked, with stately air and flowing beard, beside a white-robed Dominican. There, a group of Americans, of English, of Germans, passed by. Here, again, a Frenchman exchanged no very friendly glances with a slender, dark Italian. Now, all the crowd pressed hastily together into the angles of the road, as a carriage, containing two Italian ladies reclining luxuriously in it, dashed along. Nurses, distinguished by their crowns of bright ribbon and long silver pins; priests in their various habits, were conspicuous and abundant; but in the whole throng there was hardly a Roman from the country; all on the Pincio were inhabitants of the city, and no...

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