Since the above was written I have collected many more, and indeed far more interesting and amusing legends of the Medici; especially several referring to Lorenzo the Magnificent, which are not given by any writer that I am aware of. These will appear, I trust, in a second series. “A race which was the reflex of an age So strange, so flashed with glory, so bestarred With splendid deeds, so flushed with rainbow hues, That one forgot the dark abyss of night Which covered it at last when all was o’er. Take all that’s evil and unto it add All that is glorious, and the result Will be, in one brief word, the Medici.” FURICCHIA, OR THE EGG-WOMAN OF THE MERCATO VECCHIO “Est anus inferno, vel formidanda barathro, Saga diu magicis usa magisteriis, Hæc inhians ova gallina matre creatis. Obsipat assueto pharmaca mixta cibo, Pharmaca queis quæcunque semel gallina voratis, Ova decem pariat bis deciesque decem.” STEUCCIUS, _cited by_ P. GOLDSCHMIDT, _Verworffener Hexen und Zauberadvocat_. Hamburg, 1705. “E un figliuolo della gallina bianca.”—_Old Proverb_. The Mercato Vecchio was fertile in local traditions, and one of these is as follows: LEGEND OF THE LANTERNS. “There was in the Old Market of Florence an old house with a small shop in it, and over the door was the figure or bas-relief of a pretty hen, to show that eggs were sold there. “All the neighbours were puzzled to know how the woman who kept this shop could sell so many eggs as she did, or whence she obtained them, for she was never seen in the market buying any, nor were they brought to her; whence they concluded that she was a witch and an egg-maker, and this scandal was especially spread by her rivals in business. But others found her a very good person, of kindly manner, and it was noted in time that she not only did a great deal of good in charity, and that her eggs were not only always fresh and warm, but that many persons who had drunk them when ill had been at once relieved, and recovered in consequence. And the name of this egg-wife was Furicchia. “Now there was an old lady who had gone down in the world or become poor, and she too had set up a shop to sell eggs, but did not succeed, chiefly because everybody went to Furicchia. And this made the former more intent than ever to discover the secret, and she at once went to work to find it out. “Every morning early, when Furicchia rose, she went out of doors, and then the hen carved over the door came down as a beautiful white fowl, who told her all the slanders and gossip which people spread about her, and what effort was being made to discover her secret. And one day it said: