“Who is the gentleman in purple velvet, who is the object of such marked respect from the merchants around him?  I do not mean the tall old man, I am acquainted with him, he is the rich Fugger of Augsburg; I am speaking of the one who stands beside him.”

“He is a banker, signor,” replied Simon Turchi.  “He is very rich, and his name is Lazarus Tucher.  The gentleman before him is the head of the house of the Hochstetter.  The gentlemen conversing with him belong to the distinguished commercial houses of the Gigli, the Spignoli, and the Gualterotti.  A little apart, and behind them, is Don Pezoa, the superintendent of the king of Portugal; he is speaking with Diego d’Aro, and Antonio de Vaglio, superintendents from Spain.  The gentlemen near them are Italian and Portuguese merchants, whose names I could tell you, for I know them all, but such details would not interest you.”

“I am indebted to you for your kindness, Signor Turchi,” replied Deodati.  “My nephew, Geronimo, would give me all this information, but he is surrounded by his young friends, and as he sees me with you, he is undoubtedly convinced that I could not be in better or more agreeable company.  Have the kindness to tell me the name of the fine-looking old man seated near the table, and to give me some information regarding those who are listening to him with so much attention.”

“Around the table, signor, are the most learned men of Netherlands.  That gray-headed orator is the old Graphaeus, secretary of the city of Antwerp, and the author of several well written Latin works.  The young man, on whose shoulder he leans, is his son, Alexander, who is also very learned.  Before him is seated Abraham Ortelius, the great geographer, who is regarded as the Ptolemy of his age.  Beside Ortelius is his friend and fellow-laborer Gerard, also a learned geographer, and one of the luminaries of the day.  The only one whose dress indicates his Italian birth is Louis Guicciardini, a Florentine gentleman, who is here for the purpose of collecting materials for an extensive work on the Low Countries, and particularly on the powerful commercial city of Antwerp.  The gentleman plainly dressed, with a black beard, holding a book in his hand, is Christopher Plantin; he is engaged in establishing at Antwerp a printing-press of great importance.  Its dimensions are so large that it will occupy the ground on which several spacious houses now stand; hundreds of workmen will be employed all day in composing, correcting, and printing books in every civilized tongue.  You must not fail, signor, to visit the building; even in its unfinished state it will cause you astonishment.”

“The Netherlands is a favored country,” said the old Deodati.  “If the climate is not as mild as in our own beautiful Italy, the men are bold, active, intelligent, industrious, and learned, and they possess all the qualifications requisite for the material prosperity and moral progress of a nation.  I am surprised to see you, who are a foreigner, as well acquainted with the inhabitants as a native.”