It is a bridge by chance, one might almost say.

But the Trinita is a bridge in intent and supreme at that, the most perfect union of two river banks imaginable.

It shows to what depths modern Florence can fall--how little she esteems her past--that the iron bridge by the Cascine should ever have been built.
The various yellows of Florence--the prevailing colours--are spread out nowhere so favourably as on the Pitti side of the river between the Trinita and the Ponte Vecchio on the backs of the houses of the Borgo San Jacopo, and just so must this row have looked for four hundred years.

Certain of the occupants of these tenements, even on the upper floors, have fishing nets, on pulleys, which they let down at intervals during the day for the minute fish which seem to be as precious to Italian fishermen as sparrows and wrens to Italian gunners.
The great palace at the Trinita end of this stretch of yellow buildings--the Frescobaldi--must have been very striking when the loggia was open: the three rows of double arches that are now walled in.

From this point, as well as from similar points on the other side of the Ponte Vecchio, one realizes the mischief done by Cosimo I's secret passage across it; for not only does the passage impose a straight line on a bridge that was never intended to have one, but it cuts Florence in two.