The Via dei Bardi is one of the most ancient streets of Florence.
Long, dark, and narrow, it reaches from the extremity of the Ponte
Rubaconte to the right of the Ponte Vecchio. Its old houses look
decayed and squalid now; but in former days they were magnificent and
orderly, full of all the state of those times, being the residences of
many of the Florentine nobility. How many struggles of faction, how
many scenes of civil war, have these old houses witnessed! for in the
period of their splendour, Florence was torn by intestine feuds; from
generation to generation, Guelfs and Ghibelines, Bianchi and Neri,
handed down their bitter quarrels, private and personal animosity
mingling with public or party spirit, and ending in many a dark and
violent deed. These combatants are all sleeping now: the patriot, the
banished citizen, the timid, the cruel--all, all are gone, and have
left us only tales to read, or lessons to learn, if we can but use
them. But we are not skilled to teach a lesson; we would rather tell a
legend of those times, recalled to mind, especially at present,
because it has been chosen as the subject of a fine picture recently
finished by a Florentine artist, Benedetto Servolino.

In the Via dei Bardi stood, probably still stands, the house inhabited
by the chief of the great and noble family from whom it takes its
name--we write of the period of the fiercest struggles between the
Guelfs and Ghibelines; and the Bardi were powerful partisans of the
latter party. In that house dwelt a young girl of uncommon beauty, and
yet more uncommon character. An old writer thus describes her: 'To
look on her was enchantment; her eyes called you to love her; her
smile was like heaven; if you heard her speak, you were conquered. Her
whole person was a miracle of beauty, and her deportment had a certain
maidenly pride, springing from a pure heart and conscious integrity.'