Anyhow，ImustcertainlyhaveforgivenherherinterestintheCircus，thoughIhadbeenherFatherConfessor。
　　Therewasalittlefiery-eyedoldmanwithacrookedshoulder，inthecathedral，whotookitveryillthatImadenoefforttoseethebucketkeptinanoldtowerwhichthepeopleofModenatookawayfromthepeopleofBolognainthefourteenthcentury，andaboutwhichtherewaswarmadeandamock-heroicpoembyTASSONE，too。Beingquitecontent，however，tolookattheoutsideofthetower，andfeast，inimagination，onthebucketwithin；andpreferringtoloiterintheshadeofthetallCampanile，andaboutthecathedral；Ihavenopersonalknowledgeofthisbucket，evenatthepresenttime。
　　Indeed，wewereatBologna，beforethelittleoldmanortheGuide-BookwouldhaveconsideredthatwehadhalfdonejusticetothewondersofModena。Butitissuchadelighttometoleavenewscenesbehind，andstillgoon，encounteringnewerscenes-and，moreover，Ihavesuchaperversedispositioninrespectofsightsthatarecut，anddried，anddictated-thatIfearIsinagainstsimilarauthoritiesineveryplaceIvisit。
　　Bethisasitmay，inthepleasantCemeteryatBologna，IfoundmyselfwalkingnextSundaymorning，amongthestatelymarbletombsandcolonnades，incompanywithacrowdofPeasants，andescortedbyalittleCiceroneofthattown，whowasexcessivelyanxiousforthehonouroftheplace，andmostsolicitoustodivertmyattentionfromthebadmonuments:whereashewasnevertiredofextollingthegoodones。Seeingthislittlemanagood-humouredlittlemanhewas，whoseemedtohavenothinginhisfacebutshiningteethandeyeslookingwistfullyatacertainplotofgrass，Iaskedhimwhowasburiedthere。'Thepoorpeople，Signore，'hesaid，withashrugandasmile，andstoppingtolookbackatme-forhealwayswentonalittlebefore，andtookoffhishattointroduceeverynewmonument。'Onlythepoor，Signore！It'sverycheerful。It'sverylively。Howgreenitis，howcool！It'slikeameadow！
　　Therearefive，'-holdingupallthefingersofhisrighthandtoexpressthenumber，whichanItalianpeasantwillalwaysdo，ifitbewithinthecompassofhistenfingers，-'therearefiveofmylittlechildrenburiedthere，Signore；justthere；alittletotheright。Well！ThankstoGod！It'sverycheerful。Howgreenitis，howcoolitis！It'squiteameadow！'
　　Helookedmeveryhardintheface，andseeingIwassorryforhim，tookapinchofsnuffeveryCiceronetakessnuff，andmadealittlebow；partlyindeprecationofhishavingalludedtosuchasubject，andpartlyinmemoryofthechildrenandofhisfavouritesaint。Itwasasunaffectedandasperfectlynaturalalittlebow，asevermanmade。Immediatelyafterwards，hetookhishatoffaltogether，andbeggedtointroducemetothenextmonument；andhiseyesandhisteethshonebrighterthanbefore。
　　CHAPTERVI-THROUGHBOLOGNAANDFERRARA
　　THEREwassuchaverysmartofficialinattendanceattheCemeterywherethelittleCiceronehadburiedhischildren，thatwhenthelittleCiceronesuggestedtome，inawhisper，thattherewouldbenooffenceinpresentingthisofficer，inreturnforsomeslightextraservice，withacoupleofpaulsabouttenpence，Englishmoney，Ilookedincredulouslyathiscockedhat，wash-leathergloves，well-madeuniform，anddazzlingbuttons，andrebukedthelittleCiceronewithagraveshakeofthehead。For，insplendourofappearance，hewasatleastequaltotheDeputyUsheroftheBlackRod；andtheideaofhiscarrying，asJeremyDiddlerwouldsay，'suchathingastenpence'awaywithhim，seemedmonstrous。
　　Hetookitinexcellentpart，however，whenImadeboldtogiveithim，andpulledoffhiscockedhatwithaflourishthatwouldhavebeenabargainatdoublethemoney。
　　Itseemedtobehisdutytodescribethemonumentstothepeople-
　　atalleventshewasdoingso；andwhenIcomparedhim，likeGulliverinBrobdingnag，'withtheInstitutionsofmyownbelovedcountry，Icouldnotrefrainfromtearsofprideandexultation。'
　　Hehadnopaceatall；nomorethanatortoise。Heloiteredasthepeopleloitered，thattheymightgratifytheircuriosity；andpositivelyallowedthem，nowandthen，toreadtheinscriptionsonthetombs。Hewasneithershabby，norinsolent，norchurlish，norignorant。Hespokehisownlanguagewithperfectpropriety，andseemedtoconsiderhimself，inhisway，akindofteacherofthepeople，andtoentertainajustrespectbothforhimselfandthem。
　　TheywouldnomorehavesuchamanforaVergerinWestminsterAbbey，thantheywouldletthepeopleinastheydoatBolognatoseethemonumentsfornothing。
　　Again，anancientsombretown，underthebrilliantsky；withheavyarcadesoverthefootwaysoftheolderstreets，andlighterandmorecheerfularchwaysinthenewerportionsofthetown。Again，brownpilesofsacredbuildings，withmorebirdsflyinginandoutofchinksinthestones；andmoresnarlingmonstersforthebasesofthepillars。Again，richchurches，drowsyMasses，curlingincense，tinklingbells，priestsinbrightvestments:pictures，tapers，lacedaltarcloths，crosses，images，andartificialflowers。
　　Thereisagraveandlearnedairaboutthecity，andapleasantgloomuponit，thatwouldleaveit，adistinctandseparateimpressioninthemind，amongacrowdofcities，thoughitwerenotstillfurthermarkedinthetraveller'sremembrancebythetwobrickleaningtowerssufficientlyunsightlyinthemselves，itmustbeacknowledged，incliningcross-wiseasiftheywerebowingstifflytoeachother-amostextraordinaryterminationtotheperspectiveofsomeofthenarrowstreets。Thecolleges，andchurchestoo，andpalaces:andabovealltheacademyofFineArts，wherethereareahostofinterestingpictures，especiallybyGUIDO，DOMENICHINO，andLUDOVICOCARACCI:giveitaplaceofitsowninthememory。Eventhoughthesewerenot，andtherewerenothingelsetorememberitby，thegreatMeridianonthepavementofthechurchofSanPetronio，wherethesunbeamsmarkthetimeamongthekneelingpeople，wouldgiveitafancifulandpleasantinterest。
　　Bolognabeingveryfulloftourists，detainedtherebyaninundationwhichrenderedtheroadtoFlorenceimpassable，Iwasquarteredupatthetopofanhotel，inanout-of-the-wayroomwhichInevercouldfind:containingabed，bigenoughforaboarding-school，whichIcouldn'tfallasleepin。Thechiefamongthewaiterswhovisitedthislonelyretreat，wheretherewasnoothercompanybuttheswallowsinthebroadeavesoverthewindow，wasamanofoneideainconnectionwiththeEnglish；andthesubjectofthisharmlessmonomania，wasLordByron。Imadethediscoverybyaccidentallyremarkingtohim，atbreakfast，thatthemattingwithwhichthefloorwascovered，wasverycomfortableatthatseason，whenheimmediatelyrepliedthatMilorBeeronhadbeenmuchattachedtothatkindofmatting。Observing，atthesamemoment，thatItooknomilk，heexclaimedwithenthusiasm，thatMilorBeeronhadnevertouchedit。Atfirst，Itookitforgranted，inmyinnocence，thathehadbeenoneoftheBeeronservants；butno，hesaid，no，hewasinthehabitofspeakingaboutmyLord，toEnglishgentlemen；thatwasall。Heknewallabouthim，hesaid。Inproofofit，heconnectedhimwitheverypossibletopic，fromtheMontePulcianowineatdinnerwhichwasgrownonanestatehehadowned，tothebigbeditself，whichwastheverymodelofhis。WhenIlefttheinn，hecoupledwithhisfinalbowintheyard，apartingassurancethattheroadbywhichI
　　wasgoing，hadbeenMilorBeeron'sfavouriteride；andbeforethehorse'sfeethadwellbeguntoclatteronthepavement，heranbrisklyup-stairsagain，IdaresaytotellsomeotherEnglishmaninsomeothersolitaryroomthattheguestwhohadjustdepartedwasLordBeeron'slivingimage。
　　IhadenteredBolognabynight-almostmidnight-andallalongtheroadthither，afterourentranceintothePapalterritory:
　　whichisnot，inanypart，supremelywellgoverned，SaintPeter'skeysbeingratherrustynow；thedriverhadsoworriedaboutthedangerofrobbersintravellingafterdark，andhadsoinfectedthebraveCourier，andthetwohadbeensoconstantlystoppingandgettingupanddowntolookafteraportmanteauwhichwastiedonbehind，thatIshouldhavefeltalmostobligedtoanyonewhowouldhavehadthegoodnesstotakeitaway。Henceitwasstipulated，that，wheneverweleftBologna，weshouldstartsoasnottoarriveatFerraralaterthaneightatnight；andadelightfulafternoonandeveningjourneyitwas，albeitthroughaflatdistrictwhichgraduallybecamemoremarshyfromtheoverflowofbrooksandriversintherecentheavyrains。
　　Atsunset，whenIwaswalkingonalone，whilethehorsesrested，I
　　arriveduponalittlescene，which，byoneofthosesingularmentaloperationsofwhichweareallconscious，seemedperfectlyfamiliartome，andwhichIseedistinctlynow。Therewasnotmuchinit。
　　Inthebloodredlight，therewasamournfulsheetofwater，juststirredbytheeveningwind；uponitsmarginafewtrees。Intheforegroundwasagroupofsilentpeasantgirlsleaningovertheparapetofalittlebridge，andlooking，nowupatthesky，nowdownintothewater；inthedistance，adeepbell；theshadeofapproachingnightoneverything。IfIhadbeenmurderedthere，insomeformerlife，Icouldnothaveseemedtoremembertheplacemorethoroughly，orwithamoreemphaticchillingoftheblood；andthemereremembranceofitacquiredinthatminute，issostrengthenedbytheimaginaryrecollection，thatIhardlythinkI
　　couldforgetit。
　　Moresolitary，moredepopulated，moredeserted，oldFerrara，thananycityofthesolemnbrotherhood！Thegrasssogrowsupinthesilentstreets，thatanyonemightmakehaythere，literally，whilethesunshines。ButthesunshineswithdiminishedcheerfulnessingrimFerrara；andthepeoplearesofewwhopassandre-passthroughtheplaces，thatthefleshofitsinhabitantsmightbegrassindeed，andgrowinginthesquares。
　　IwonderwhytheheadcoppersmithinanItaliantown，alwayslivesnextdoortotheHotel，oropposite:makingthevisitorfeelasifthebeatinghammerswerehisownheart，palpitatingwithadeadlyenergy！Iwonderwhyjealouscorridorssurroundthebedroomonallsides，andfillitwithunnecessarydoorsthatcan'tbeshut，andwillnotopen，andabutonpitchydarkness！Iwonderwhyitisnotenoughthatthesedistrustfulgeniistandagapeatone'sdreamsallnight，buttheremustalsoberoundopenportholes，highinthewall，suggestive，whenamouseorratisheardbehindthewainscot，ofasomebodyscrapingthewallwithhistoes，inhisendeavourstoreachoneoftheseportholesandlookin！Iwonderwhythefaggotsaresoconstructed，astoknowofnoeffectbutanagonyofheatwhentheyarelightedandreplenished，andanagonyofcoldandsuffocationatallothertimes！Iwonder，aboveall，whyitisthegreatfeatureofdomesticarchitectureinItalianinns，thatallthefiregoesupthechimney，exceptthesmoke！
　　Theanswermatterslittle。Coppersmiths，doors，portholes，smoke，andfaggots，arewelcometome。Givemethesmilingfaceoftheattendant，manorwoman；thecourteousmanner；theamiabledesiretopleaseandtobepleased；thelight-hearted，pleasant，simpleair-somanyjewelssetindirt-andIamtheirsagainto-morrow！
　　ARIOSTO'Shouse，TASSO'Sprison，arareoldGothiccathedral，andmorechurchesofcourse，arethesightsofFerrara。Butthelongsilentstreets，andthedismantledpalaces，whereivywavesinlieuofbanners，andwhererankweedsareslowlycreepingupthelong-
　　untroddenstairs，arethebestsightsofall。
　　Theaspectofthisdrearytown，halfanhourbeforesunriseonefinemorning，whenIleftit，wasaspicturesqueasitseemedunrealandspectral。Itwasnomatterthatthepeoplewerenotyetoutofbed；foriftheyhadallbeenupandbusy，theywouldhavemadebutlittledifferenceinthatdesertofaplace。Itwasbesttoseeit，withoutasinglefigureinthepicture；acityofthedead，withoutonesolitarysurvivor。Pestilencemighthaveravagedstreets，squares，andmarket-places；andsackandsiegehaveruinedtheoldhouses，battereddowntheirdoorsandwindows，andmadebreachesintheirroofs。Inonepart，agreattowerroseintotheair；theonlylandmarkinthemelancholyview。Inanother，aprodigiouscastle，withamoataboutit，stoodaloof:asullencityinitself。Intheblackdungeonsofthiscastle，Parisinaandherloverwerebeheadedinthedeadofnight。Theredlight，beginningtoshinewhenIlookedbackuponit，staineditswallswithout，astheyhave，manyatime，beenstainedwithin，inolddays；butforanysignoflifetheygave，thecastleandthecitymighthavebeenavoidedbyallhumancreatures，fromthemomentwhentheaxewentdownuponthelastofthetwolovers:andmighthavenevervibratedtoanothersoundBeyondtheblowthattotheblockPiercedthroughwithforcedandsullenshock。
　　ComingtothePo，whichwasgreatlyswollen，andrunningfiercely，wecrosseditbyafloatingbridgeofboats，andsocameintotheAustrianterritory，andresumedourjourney:throughacountryofwhich，forsomemiles，agreatpartwasunderwater。ThebraveCourierandthesoldieryhadfirstquarrelled，forhalfanhourormore，overoureternalpassport。ButthiswasadailyrelaxationwiththeBrave，whowasalwaysstrickendeafwhenshabbyfunctionariesinuniformcame，astheyconstantlydidcome，plungingoutofwoodenboxestolookatit-orinotherwordstobeg-andwho，stonedeaftomyentreatiesthatthemanmighthaveatriflegivenhim，andweresumeourjourneyinpeace，waswonttositrevilingthefunctionaryinbrokenEnglish:whiletheunfortunateman'sfacewasaportraitofmentalagonyframedinthecoachwindow，fromhisperfectignoranceofwhatwasbeingsaidtohisdisparagement。
　　Therewasapostilion，inthecourseofthisday'sjourney，aswildandsavagelygood-lookingavagabondasyouwoulddesiretosee。
　　Hewasatall，stout-made，dark-complexionedfellow，withaprofusionofshaggyblackhairhangingalloverhisface，andgreatblackwhiskersstretchingdownhisthroat。Hisdresswasatornsuitofriflegreen，garnishedhereandtherewithred；asteeple-
　　crownedhat，innocentofnap，withabrokenandbedraggledfeatherstuckintheband；andaflamingredneckerchiefhangingonhisshoulders。Hewasnotinthesaddle，butreposed，quiteathisease，onasortoflowfoot-boardinfrontofthepostchaise，downamongstthehorses'tails-convenientforhavinghisbrainskickedout，atanymoment。TothisBrigand，thebraveCourier，whenwewereatareasonabletrot，happenedtosuggestthepracticabilityofgoingfaster。Hereceivedtheproposalwithaperfectyellofderision；brandishedhiswhipabouthisheadsuchawhip！itwasmorelikeahome-madebow；flunguphisheels，muchhigherthanthehorses；anddisappeared，inaparoxysm，somewhereintheneighbourhoodoftheaxletree。Ifullyexpectedtoseehimlyingintheroad，ahundredyardsbehind，butupcamethesteeple-
　　crownedhatagain，nextminute，andhewasseenreposing，asonasofa，entertaininghimselfwiththeidea，andcrying，'Ha，ha！whatnext！Ohthedevil！Fastertoo！Shoo-hoo-o-o！'Thislastejaculation，aninexpressiblydefianthoot。Beinganxioustoreachourimmediatedestinationthatnight，Iventured，by-and-by，torepeattheexperimentonmyownaccount。Itproducedexactlythesameeffect。Roundflewthewhipwiththesamescornfulflourish，upcametheheels，downwentthesteeple-crownedhat，andpresentlyhereappeared，reposingasbeforeandsayingtohimself，'Haha！whatnext！Fastertoo！Ohthedevil！Shoo-hoo-o-
　　o！'
　　CHAPTERVII-ANITALIANDREAM
　　IHADbeentravelling，forsomedays；restingverylittleinthenight，andneverintheday。Therapidandunbrokensuccessionofnoveltiesthathadpassedbeforeme，camebacklikehalf-formeddreams；andacrowdofobjectswanderedinthegreatestconfusionthroughmymind，asItravelledon，byasolitaryroad。Atintervals，someoneamongthemwouldstop，asitwere，initsrestlessflittingtoandfro，andenablemetolookatit，quitesteadily，andbeholditinfulldistinctness。Afterafewmoments，itwoulddissolve，likeaviewinamagic-lantern；andwhileIsawsomepartofitquiteplainly，andsomefaintly，andsomenotatall，wouldshowmeanotherofthemanyplacesIhadlatelyseen，lingeringbehindit，andcomingthroughit。Thiswasnosoonervisiblethan，initsturn，itmeltedintosomethingelse。
　　Atonemoment，Iwasstandingagain，beforethebrownoldruggedchurchesofModena。AsIrecognisedthecuriouspillarswithgrimmonstersfortheirbases，Iseemedtoseethem，standingbythemselvesinthequietsquareatPadua，wheretherewerethestaidoldUniversity，andthefigures，demurelygowned，groupedhereandthereintheopenspaceaboutit。Then，Iwasstrollingintheoutskirtsofthatpleasantcity，admiringtheunusualneatnessofthedwelling-houses，gardens，andorchards，asIhadseenthemafewhoursbefore。Intheirsteadarose，immediately，thetwotowersofBologna；andthemostobstinateofalltheseobjects，failedtoholditsground，aminute，beforethemonstrousmoatedcastleofFerrara，which，likeanillustrationtoawildromance，camebackagainintheredsunrise，lordingitoverthesolitary，grass-grown，witheredtown。Inshort，Ihadthatincoherentbutdelightfuljumbleinmybrain，whichtravellersareapttohave，andareindolentlywillingtoencourage。EveryshakeofthecoachinwhichIsat，halfdozinginthedark，appearedtojerksomenewrecollectionoutofitsplace，andtojerksomeothernewrecollectionintoit；andinthisstateIfellasleep。
　　IwasawakenedaftersometimeasIthoughtbythestoppingofthecoach。Itwasnowquitenight，andwewereatthewaterside。
　　Therelayhere，ablackboat，withalittlehouseorcabininitofthesamemournfulcolour。WhenIhadtakenmyseatinthis，theboatwaspaddled，bytwomen，towardsagreatlight，lyinginthedistanceonthesea。
　　Everandagain，therewasadismalsighofwind。Itruffledthewater，androckedtheboat，andsentthedarkcloudsflyingbeforethestars。Icouldnotbutthinkhowstrangeitwas，tobefloatingawayatthathour:leavingthelandbehind，andgoingon，towardsthislightuponthesea。Itsoonbegantoburnbrighter；
　　andfrombeingonelightbecameaclusteroftapers，twinklingandshiningoutofthewater，astheboatapproachedtowardsthembyadreamykindoftrack，markedoutupontheseabypostsandpiles。
　　Wehadfloatedon，fivemilesorso，overthedarkwater，whenI
　　hearditripplinginmydream，againstsomeobstructionnearathand。Lookingoutattentively，Isaw，throughthegloom，asomethingblackandmassive-likeashore，butlyingcloseandflatuponthewater，likearaft-whichwewereglidingpast。Thechiefofthetworowerssaiditwasaburial-place。
　　Fulloftheinterestandwonderwhichacemeterylyingoutthere，inthelonelysea，inspired，Iturnedtogazeuponitasitshouldrecedeinourpath，whenitwasquicklyshutoutfrommyview。
　　BeforeIknewbywhat，orhow，Ifoundthatwewereglidingupastreet-aphantomstreet；thehousesrisingonbothsides，fromthewater，andtheblackboatglidingonbeneaththeirwindows。
　　Lightswereshiningfromsomeofthesecasements，plumbingthedepthoftheblackstreamwiththeirreflectedrays，butallwasprofoundlysilent。
　　Soweadvancedintothisghostlycity，continuingtoholdourcoursethroughnarrowstreetsandlanes，allfilledandflowingwithwater。Someofthecornerswhereourwaybranchedoff，weresoacuteandnarrow，thatitseemedimpossibleforthelongslenderboattoturnthem；buttherowers，withalowmelodiouscryofwarning，sentitskimmingonwithoutapause。Sometimes，therowersofanotherblackboatlikeourown，echoedthecry，andslackeningtheirspeedasIthoughtwedidourswouldcomeflittingpastuslikeadarkshadow。Otherboats，ofthesamesombrehue，werelyingmoored，Ithought，topaintedpillars，neartodarkmysteriousdoorsthatopenedstraightuponthewater。Someofthesewereempty；insome，therowerslayasleep；towardsone，I
　　sawsomefigurescomingdownagloomyarchwayfromtheinteriorofapalace:gailydressed，andattendedbytorch-bearers。ItwasbutaglimpseIhadofthem；forabridge，solowandcloseupontheboatthatitseemedreadytofalldownandcrushus:oneofthemanybridgesthatperplexedtheDream:blottedthemout，instantly。Onwewent，floatingtowardstheheartofthisstrangeplace-withwaterallaboutuswhereneverwaterwaselsewhere-
　　clustersofhouses，churches，heapsofstatelybuildingsgrowingoutofit-and，everywhere，thesameextraordinarysilence。
　　Presently，weshotacrossabroadandopenstream；andpassing，asIthought，beforeaspaciouspavedquay，wherethebrightlampswithwhichitwasilluminatedshowedlongrowsofarchesandpillars，ofponderousconstructionandgreatstrength，butaslighttotheeyeasgarlandsofhoarfrostorgossamer-andwhere，forthefirsttime，Isawpeoplewalking-arrivedataflightofstepsleadingfromthewatertoalargemansion，where，havingpassedthroughcorridorsandgalleriesinnumerable，Ilaydowntorest；
　　listeningtotheblackboatsstealingupanddownbelowthewindowontheripplingwater，tillIfellasleep。
　　ThegloryofthedaythatbrokeuponmeinthisDream；itsfreshness，motion，buoyancy；itssparklesofthesuninwater；itsclearblueskyandrustlingair；nowakingwordscantell。But，frommywindow，Ilookeddownonboatsandbarks；onmasts，sails，cordage，flags；ongroupsofbusysailors，workingatthecargoesofthesevessels；onwidequays，strewnwithbales，casks，merchandiseofmanykinds；ongreatships，lyingnearathandinstatelyindolence；onislands，crownedwithgorgeousdomesandturrets:andwheregoldencrossesglitteredinthelight，atopofwondrouschurches，springingfromthesea！Goingdownuponthemarginofthegreensea，rollingonbeforethedoor，andfillingallthestreets，Icameuponaplaceofsuchsurpassingbeauty，andsuchgrandeur，thatalltherestwaspoorandfaded，incomparisonwithitsabsorbingloveliness。
　　ItwasagreatPiazza，asIthought；anchored，likealltherest，inthedeepocean。Onitsbroadbosom，wasaPalace，moremajesticandmagnificentinitsoldage，thanallthebuildingsoftheearth，inthehighprimeandfulnessoftheiryouth。Cloistersandgalleries:solight，theymighthavebeentheworkoffairyhands:
　　sostrongthatcenturieshadbatteredtheminvain:woundroundandroundthispalace，andenfoldeditwithaCathedral，gorgeousinthewildluxuriantfanciesoftheEast。Atnogreatdistancefromitsporch，aloftytower，standingbyitself，andrearingitsproudhead，alone，intothesky，lookedoutupontheAdriaticSea。
　　Neartothemarginofthestream，weretwoill-omenedpillarsofredgranite；onehavingonitstop，afigurewithaswordandshield；theother，awingedlion。Notfarfromtheseagain，asecondtower:richestoftherichinallitsdecorations:evenhere，whereallwasrich:sustainedaloft，agreatorb，gleamingwithgoldanddeepestblue:theTwelveSignspaintedonit，andamimicsunrevolvinginitscoursearoundthem:whileabove，twobronzegiantshammeredoutthehoursuponasoundingbell。Anoblongsquareofloftyhousesofthewhiteststone，surroundedbyalightandbeautifularcade，formedpartofthisenchantedscene；
　　and，hereandthere，gaymastsforflagsrose，tapering，fromthepavementoftheunsubstantialground。
　　IthoughtIenteredtheCathedral，andwentinandoutamongitsmanyarches:traversingitswholeextent。Agrandanddreamystructure，ofimmenseproportions；goldenwitholdmosaics；
　　redolentofperfumes；dimwiththesmokeofincense；costlyintreasureofpreciousstonesandmetals，glitteringthroughironbars；holywiththebodiesofdeceasedsaints；rainbow-huedwithwindowsofstainedglass；darkwithcarvedwoodsandcolouredmarbles；obscureinitsvastheights，andlengtheneddistances；
　　shiningwithsilverlampsandwinkinglights；unreal，fantastic，solemn，inconceivablethroughout。IthoughtIenteredtheoldpalace；pacingsilentgalleriesandcouncil-chambers，wheretheoldrulersofthismistressofthewaterslookedsternlyout，inpictures，fromthewalls，andwhereherhigh-prowedgalleys，stillvictoriousoncanvas，foughtandconqueredasofold。IthoughtI
　　wanderedthroughitshallsofstateandtriumph-bareandemptynow！-andmusingonitsprideandmight，extinct:forthatwaspast；allpast:heardavoicesay，'Sometokensofitsancientruleandsomeconsolingreasonsforitsdownfall，maybetracedhere，yet！'
　　IdreamedthatIwasledon，then，intosomejealousrooms，communicatingwithaprisonnearthepalace；separatedfromitbyaloftybridgecrossinganarrowstreet；andcalled，Idreamed，TheBridgeofSighs。
　　ButfirstIpassedtwojaggedslitsinastonewall；thelions'
　　mouths-nowtoothless-where，inthedistemperedhorrorofmysleep，IthoughtdenunciationsofinnocentmentotheoldwickedCouncil，hadbeendroppedthrough，manyatime，whenthenightwasdark。So，whenIsawthecouncil-roomtowhichsuchprisonersweretakenforexamination，andthedoorbywhichtheypassedout，whentheywerecondemned-adoorthatnevercloseduponamanwithlifeandhopebeforehim-myheartappearedtodiewithinme。
　　Itwassmittenharderthough，when，torchinhand，Idescendedfromthecheerfuldayintotworanges，onebelowanother，ofdismal，awful，horriblestonecells。Theywerequitedark。Eachhadaloop-holeinitsmassivewall，where，intheoldtime，everyday，atorchwasplaced-Idreamed-tolighttheprisonerwithin，forhalfanhour。Thecaptives，bytheglimmeringofthesebriefrays，hadscratchedandcutinscriptionsintheblackenedvaults。Isawthem。Fortheirlabourwitharustynail'spoint，hadoutlivedtheiragonyandthem，throughmanygenerations。
　　Onecell，Isaw，inwhichnomanremainedformorethanfour-and-
　　twentyhours；beingmarkedfordeadbeforeheenteredit。Hardby，another，andadismalone，whereto，atmidnight，theconfessorcame-amonkbrown-robed，andhooded-ghastlyintheday，andfreebrightair，butinthemidnightofthatmurkyprison，Hope'sextinguisher，andMurder'sherald。Ihadmyfootuponthespot，where，atthesamedreadhour，theshrivenprisonerwasstrangled；
　　andstruckmyhandupontheguiltydoor-low-browedandstealthy-
　　throughwhichthelumpishsackwascarriedoutintoaboat，androwedaway，anddrownedwhereitwasdeathtocastanet。
　　Aroundthisdungeonstronghold，andabovesomepartofit:lickingtheroughwallswithout，andsmearingthemwithdampandslimewithin:stuffingdankweedsandrefuseintochinksandcrevices，asiftheverystonesandbarshadmouthstostop:furnishingasmoothroadfortheremovalofthebodiesofthesecretvictimsoftheState-aroadsoreadythatitwentalongwiththem，andranbeforethem，likeacruelofficer-flowedthesamewaterthatfilledthisDreamofmine，andmadeitseemone，evenatthetime。
　　Descendingfromthepalacebyastaircase，called，Ithought，theGiant's-Ihadsomeimaginaryrecollectionofanoldmanabdicating，coming，moreslowlyandmorefeebly，downit，whenheheardthebell，proclaiminghissuccessor-Iglidedoff，inoneofthedarkboats，untilwecametoanoldarsenalguardedbyfourmarblelions。TomakemyDreammoremonstrousandunlikely，oneofthesehadwordsandsentencesuponitsbody，inscribedthere，atanunknowntime，andinanunknownlanguage；sothattheirpurportwasamysterytoallmen。
　　Therewaslittlesoundofhammersinthisplaceforbuildingships，andlittleworkinprogress；forthegreatnessofthecitywasnomore，asIhavesaid。Indeed，itseemedaverywreckfounddriftingonthesea；astrangeflaghoistedinitshonourablestations，andstrangersstandingatitshelm。Asplendidbargeinwhichitsancientchiefhadgoneforth，pompously，atcertainperiods，towedtheocean，layhere，Ithought，nomore；but，initsplace，therewasatinymodel，madefromrecollectionlikethecity'sgreatness；andittoldofwhathadbeensoarethestrongandweakconfoundedinthedustalmostaseloquentlyasthemassivepillars，arches，roofs，rearedtoovershadowstatelyshipsthathadnoothershadownow，uponthewaterortheearth。
　　Anarmourywasthereyet。Plunderedanddespoiled；butanarmoury。
　　WithafiercestandardtakenfromtheTurks，droopinginthedullairofitscage。Richsuitsofmailwornbygreatwarriorswerehoardedthere；crossbowsandbolts；quiversfullofarrows；spears；
　　swords，daggers，maces，shields，andheavy-headedaxes。Platesofwroughtsteelandiron，tomakethegallanthorseamonstercasedinmetalscales；andonespring-weaponeasytobecarriedinthebreastdesignedtodoitsofficenoiselessly，andmadeforshootingmenwithpoisoneddarts。
　　OnepressorcaseIsaw，fullofaccursedinstrumentsoftorturehorriblycontrivedtocramp，andpinch，andgrindandcrushmen'sbones，andtearandtwistthemwiththetormentofathousanddeaths。Beforeit，weretwoironhelmets，withbreast-pieces:
　　madetocloseuptightandsmoothupontheheadsoflivingsufferers；andfastenedontoeach，wasasmallknoboranvil，wherethedirectingdevilcouldreposehiselbowathisease，andlisten，nearthewalled-upear，tothelamentationsandconfessionsofthewretchwithin。Therewasthatgrimresemblanceinthemtothehumanshape-theyweresuchmouldsofsweatingfaces，painedandcramped-thatitwasdifficulttothinkthemempty；andterribledistortionslingeringwithinthem，seemedtofollowme，when，takingtomyboatagain，Irowedofftoakindofgardenorpublicwalkinthesea，wherethereweregrassandtrees。ButI
　　forgotthemwhenIstooduponitsfarthestbrink-Istoodthere，inmydream-andlooked，alongtheripple，tothesettingsun；
　　beforeme，intheskyandonthedeep，acrimsonflush；andbehindmethewholecityresolvingintostreaksofredandpurple，onthewater。
　　Intheluxuriouswonderofsorareadream，Itookbutlittleheedoftime，andhadbutlittleunderstandingofitsflight。Butthereweredaysandnightsinit；andwhenthesunwashigh，andwhentheraysoflampswerecrookedintherunningwater，Iwasstillafloat，Ithought:plashingtheslipperywallsandhouseswiththecleavingsofthetide，asmyblackboat，borneuponit，skimmedalongthestreets。
　　Sometimes，alightingatthedoorsofchurchesandvastpalaces，I
　　wanderedon，fromroomtoroom，fromaisletoaisle，throughlabyrinthsofrichaltars，ancientmonuments；decayedapartmentswherethefurniture，halfawful，halfgrotesque，wasmoulderingaway。Pictureswerethere，repletewithsuchenduringbeautyandexpression:withsuchpassion，truthandpower:thattheyseemedsomanyyoungandfreshrealitiesamongahostofspectres。I
　　thoughtthese，oftenintermingledwiththeolddaysofthecity:
　　withitsbeauties，tyrants，captains，patriots，merchants，counters，priests:nay，withitsverystones，andbricks，andpublicplaces；allofwhichlivedagain，aboutme，onthewalls。
　　Then，comingdownsomemarblestaircasewherethewaterlappedandoozedagainstthelowersteps，Ipassedintomyboatagain，andwentoninmydream。
　　Floatingdownnarrowlanes，wherecarpenters，atworkwithplaneandchiselintheirshops，tossedthelightshavingstraightuponthewater，whereitlaylikeweed，orebbedawaybeforemeinatangledheap。Pastopendoors，decayedandrottenfromlongsteepinginthewet，throughwhichsomescantypatchofvineshonegreenandbright，makingunusualshadowsonthepavementwithitstremblingleaves。Pastquaysandterraces，wherewomen，gracefullyveiled，werepassingandrepassing，andwhereidlerswerereclininginthesun-shine，onflag-stonesandonflightsofsteps。Pastbridges，wheretherewereidlerstoo；loiteringandlookingover。
　　Belowstonebalconies，erectedatagiddyheight，beforetheloftiestwindowsoftheloftiesthouses。Pastplotsofgarden，theatres，shrines，prodigiouspilesofarchitecture-Gothic-
　　Saracenic-fancifulwithallthefanciesofalltimesandcountries。Pastbuildingsthatwerehigh，andlow，andblack，andwhite，andstraight，andcrooked；meanandgrand，crazyandstrong。
　　Twiningamongatangledlotofboatsandbarges，andshootingoutatlastintoaGrandCanal！There，intheerrantfancyofmydream，IsawoldShylockpassingtoandfrouponabridge，allbuiltuponwithshopsandhummingwiththetonguesofmen；aformI
　　seemedtoknowforDesdemona's，leaneddownthroughalatticedblindtopluckaflower。And，inthedream，IthoughtthatShakespeare'sspiritwasabroaduponthewatersomewhere:stealingthroughthecity。
　　Atnight，whentwovotivelampsburntbeforeanimageoftheVirgin，inagalleryoutsidethegreatcathedral，neartheroof，I
　　fanciedthatthegreatpiazzaoftheWingedLionwasablazeofcheerfullight，andthatitswholearcadewasthrongedwithpeople；
　　whilecrowdsweredivertingthemselvesinsplendidcoffee-housesopeningfromit-whichwerenevershut，Ithought，butopenallnightlong。Whenthebronzegiantsstruckthehourofmidnightonthebell，Ithoughtthelifeandanimationofthecitywereallcentredhere；andasIrowedaway，abreastthesilentquays，Ionlysawthemdotted，hereandthere，withsleepingboatmenwrappedupintheircloaks，andlyingatfulllengthuponthestones。
　　Butcloseaboutthequaysandchurches，palacesandprisonssuckingattheirwalls，andwellingupintothesecretplacesofthetown:
　　creptthewateralways。Noiselessandwatchful:coiledroundandroundit，initsmanyfolds，likeanoldserpent:waitingforthetime，Ithought，whenpeopleshouldlookdownintoitsdepthsforanystoneoftheoldcitythathadclaimedtobeitsmistress。
　　Thusitfloatedmeaway，untilIawokeintheoldmarket-placeatVerona。Ihave，manyandmanyatime，thoughtsince，ofthisstrangeDreamuponthewater:half-wonderingifitliethereyet，andifitsnamebeVENICE。
　　CHAPTERVIII-BYVERONA，MANTUA，ANDMILAN，ACROSSTHEPASSOFTHE
　　SIMPLONINTOSWITZERLAND
　　IHADbeenhalfafraidtogotoVerona，lestitshouldatallputmeoutofconceitwithRomeoandJuliet。But，Iwasnosoonercomeintotheoldmarket-place，thanthemisgivingvanished。Itissofanciful，quaint，andpicturesqueaplace，formedbysuchanextraordinaryandrichvarietyoffantasticbuildings，thattherecouldbenothingbetteratthecoreofeventhisromantictown:
　　sceneofoneofthemostromanticandbeautifulofstories。
　　Itwasnaturalenough，togostraightfromtheMarket-place，totheHouseoftheCapulets，nowdegeneratedintoamostmiserablelittleinn。Noisyvetturiniandmuddymarket-cartsweredisputingpossessionoftheyard，whichwasankle-deepindirt，withabroodofsplashedandbespatteredgeese；andtherewasagrim-visageddog，viciouslypantinginadoorway，whowouldcertainlyhavehadRomeobytheleg，themomentheputitoverthewall，ifhehadexistedandbeenatlargeinthosetimes。Theorchardfellintootherhands，andwaspartedoffmanyyearsago；butthereusedtobeoneattachedtothehouse-oratalleventstheremayhave，been，-andthehatCappellotheancientcognizanceofthefamily，maystillbeseen，carvedinstone，overthegatewayoftheyard。Thegeese，themarket-carts，theirdrivers，andthedog，weresomewhatinthewayofthestory，itmustbeconfessed；anditwouldhavebeenpleasantertohavefoundthehouseempty，andtohavebeenabletowalkthroughthedisusedrooms。Butthehatwasunspeakablycomfortable；andtheplacewherethegardenusedtobe，hardlylessso。Besides，thehouseisadistrustful，jealous-
　　lookinghouseasonewoulddesiretosee，thoughofaverymoderatesize。SoIwasquitesatisfiedwithit，astheveritablemansionofoldCapulet，andwascorrespondinglygratefulinmyacknowledgmentstoanextremelyunsentimentalmiddle-agedlady，thePadronaoftheHotel，whowasloungingonthethresholdlookingatthegeese；andwhoatleastresembledtheCapuletsintheoneparticularofbeingverygreatindeedinthe'Family'way。
　　FromJuliet'shome，toJuliet'stomb，isatransitionasnaturaltothevisitor，astofairJulietherself，ortotheproudestJulietthateverhastaughtthetorchestoburnbrightinanytime。So，I
　　wentoff，withaguide，toanold，oldgarden，oncebelongingtoanold，oldconvent，Isuppose；andbeingadmitted，atashatteredgate，byabright-eyedwomanwhowaswashingclothes，wentdownsomewalkswherefreshplantsandyoungflowerswereprettilygrowingamongfragmentsofoldwall，andivy-colouredmounds；andwasshownalittletank，orwater-trough，whichthebright-eyedwoman-dryingherarmsuponher'kerchief，called'LatombadiGiuliettalasfortunata。'Withthebestdispositionintheworldtobelieve，Icoulddonomorethanbelievethatthebright-eyedwomanbelieved；soIgaveherthatmuchcredit，andhercustomaryfeeinreadymoney。Itwasapleasure，ratherthanadisappointment，thatJuliet'sresting-placewasforgotten。HoweverconsolatoryitmayhavebeentoYorick'sGhost，tohearthefeetuponthepavementoverhead，and，twentytimesaday，therepetitionofhisname，itisbetterforJuliettolieoutofthetrackoftourists，andtohavenovisitorsbutsuchascometogravesinspring-rain，andsweetair，andsunshine。
　　PleasantVerona！Withitsbeautifuloldpalaces，andcharmingcountryinthedistance，seenfromterracewalks，andstately，balustradedgalleries。WithitsRomangates，stillspanningthefairstreet，andcasting，onthesunlightofto-day，theshadeoffifteenhundredyearsago。Withitsmarble-fittedchurches，loftytowers，richarchitecture，andquaintoldquietthoroughfares，whereshoutsofMontaguesandCapuletsonceresounded，AndmadeVerona'sancientcitizensCastbytheirgrave，beseemingornaments，Towieldoldpartizans。
　　Withitsfast-rushingriver，picturesqueoldbridge，greatcastle，wavingcypresses，andprospectsodelightful，andsocheerful！
　　PleasantVerona！
　　Inthemidstofit，inthePiazzadiBra-aspiritofoldtimeamongthefamiliarrealitiesofthepassinghour-isthegreatRomanAmphitheatre。Sowellpreserved，andcarefullymaintained，thateveryrowofseatsisthere，unbroken。Overcertainofthearches，theoldRomannumeralsmayyetbeseen；andtherearecorridors，andstaircases，andsubterraneanpassagesforbeasts，andwindingways，abovegroundandbelow，aswhenthefiercethousandshurriedinandout，intentuponthebloodyshowsofthearena。Nestlinginsomeoftheshadowsandhollowplacesofthewalls，now，aresmithswiththeirforges，andafewsmalldealersofonekindorother；andtherearegreenweeds，andleaves，andgrass，upontheparapet。Butlittleelseisgreatlychanged。
　　WhenIhadtraversedallaboutit，withgreatinterest，andhadgoneuptothetopmostroundofseats，andturningfromthelovelypanoramaclosedinbythedistantAlps，lookeddownintothebuilding，itseemedtoliebeforemeliketheinsideofaprodigioushatofplaitedstraw，withanenormouslybroadbrimandashallowcrown；theplaitsbeingrepresentedbythefour-and-fortyrowsofseats。Thecomparisonisahomelyandfantasticone，insoberremembranceandonpaper，butitwasirresistiblysuggestedatthemoment，nevertheless。
　　Anequestriantroophadbeenthere，ashorttimebefore-thesametroop，Idaresay，thatappearedtotheoldladyinthechurchatModena-andhadscoopedoutalittleringatoneendofthearea；
　　wheretheirperformanceshadtakenplace，andwherethemarksoftheirhorses'feetwerestillfresh。Icouldnotbutpicturetomyself，ahandfulofspectatorsgatheredtogetherononeortwooftheoldstoneseats，andaspangledCavalierbeinggallant，oraPolicinellofunny，withthegrimwallslookingon。Aboveall，I
　　thoughthowstrangelythoseRomanmuteswouldgazeuponthefavouritecomicsceneofthetravellingEnglish，whereaBritishnoblemanLordJohn，withaveryloosestomach:dressedinablue-tailedcoatdowntohisheels，brightyellowbreeches，andawhitehat:comesabroad，ridingdoubleonarearinghorse，withanEnglishladyLadyBetsyinastrawbonnetandgreenveil，andaredspencer；andwhoalwayscarriesagiganticreticule，andaput-
　　upparasol。
　　Iwalkedthroughandthroughthetownalltherestoftheday，andcouldhavewalkedthereuntilnow，Ithink。Inoneplace，therewasaveryprettymoderntheatre，wheretheyhadjustperformedtheoperaalwayspopularinVeronaofRomeoandJuliet。Inanothertherewasacollection，underacolonnade，ofGreek，Roman，andEtruscanremains，presidedoverbyanancientmanwhomighthavebeenanEtruscanrelichimself；forhewasnotstrongenoughtoopentheirongate，whenhehadunlockedit，andhadneithervoiceenoughtobeaudiblewhenhedescribedthecuriosities，norsightenoughtoseethem:hewassoveryold。Inanotherplace，therewasagalleryofpictures:soabominablybad，thatitwasquitedelightfultoseethemmoulderingaway。Butanywhere:inthechurches，amongthepalaces，inthestreets，onthebridge，ordownbesidetheriver:itwasalwayspleasantVerona，andinmyremembrancealwayswillbe。
　　IreadRomeoandJulietinmyownroomattheinnthatnight-ofcourse，noEnglishmanhadeverreaditthere，before-andsetoutforMantuanextdayatsunrise，repeatingtomyselfintheCOUPE
　　ofanomnibus，andnexttotheconductor，whowasreadingtheMysteriesofParis，ThereisnoworldwithoutVerona'swallsButpurgatory，torture，hellitself。
　　Hence-banishedisbanishedfromtheworld，Andworld'sexileisdeath-
　　whichremindedmethatRomeowasonlybanishedfive-and-twentymilesafterall，andratherdisturbedmyconfidenceinhisenergyandboldness。
　　WasthewaytoMantuaasbeautiful，inhistime，Iwonder！Diditwindthroughpasturelandasgreen，brightwiththesameglancingstreams，anddottedwithfreshclumpsofgracefultrees！Thosepurplemountainslayonthehorizon，then，forcertain；andthedressesofthesepeasantgirls，whowearagreat，knobbed，silverpinlikeanEnglish'life-preserver'throughtheirhairbehind，canhardlybemuchchanged。Thehopefulfeelingofsobrightamorning，andsoexquisiteasunrise，canhavebeennostranger，eventoanexiledlover'sbreast；andMantuaitselfmusthavebrokenonhimintheprospect，withitstowers，andwalls，andwater，prettymuchasonacommon-placeandmatrimonialomnibus。
　　Hemadethesamesharptwistsandturns，perhaps，overtworumblingdrawbridges；passedthroughthelikelong，covered，woodenbridge；
　　andleavingthemarshywaterbehind，approachedtherustygateofstagnantMantua。
　　Ifeveramanweresuitedtohisplaceofresidence，andhisplaceofresidencetohim，theleanApothecaryandMantuacametogetherinaperfectfitnessofthings。Itmayhavebeenmorestirringthen，perhaps。Ifso，theApothecarywasamaninadvanceofhistime，andknewwhatMantuawouldbe，ineighteenhundredandforty-
　　four。Hefastedmuch，andthatassistedhiminhisforeknowledge。
　　IputupattheHoteloftheGoldenLion，andwasinmyownroomarrangingplanswiththebraveCourier，whentherecameamodestlittletapatthedoor，whichopenedonanoutergallerysurroundingacourt-yard；andanintenselyshabbylittlemanlookedin，toinquireifthegentlemanwouldhaveaCiceronetoshowthetown。Hisfacewassoverywistfulandanxious，inthehalf-openeddoorway，andtherewassomuchpovertyexpressedinhisfadedsuitandlittlepinchedhat，andinthethread-bareworstedglovewithwhichheheldit-notexpressedtheless，becausethesewereevidentlyhisgenteelclothes，hastilyslippedon-thatIwouldassoonhavetroddenonhimasdismissedhim。Iengagedhimontheinstant，andhesteppedindirectly。
　　WhileIfinishedthediscussioninwhichIwasengaged，hestood，beamingbyhimselfinacorner，makingafeintofbrushingmyhatwithhisarm。Ifhisfeehadbeenasmanynapoleonsasitwasfrancs，therecouldnothaveshotoverthetwilightofhisshabbinesssuchagleamofsun，aslightedupthewholeman，nowthathewashired。
　　'Well！'saidI，whenIwasready，'shallwegooutnow?'
　　'Ifthegentlemanpleases。Itisabeautifulday。Alittlefresh，butcharming；altogethercharming。Thegentlemanwillallowmetoopenthedoor。ThisistheInnYard。Thecourt-yardoftheGoldenLion！Thegentlemanwillpleasetomindhisfootingonthestairs。'
　　Wewerenowinthestreet。
　　'ThisisthestreetoftheGoldenLion。This，theoutsideoftheGoldenLion。Theinterestingwindowupthere，onthefirstPiano，wherethepaneofglassisbroken，isthewindowofthegentleman'schamber！'
　　Havingviewedalltheseremarkableobjects，IinquiredifthereweremuchtoseeinMantua。
　　'Well！Truly，no。Notmuch！So，so，'hesaid，shrugginghisshouldersapologetically。
　　'Manychurches?'
　　'No。NearlyallsuppressedbytheFrench。'
　　'Monasteriesorconvents?'
　　'No。TheFrenchagain！NearlyallsuppressedbyNapoleon。'
　　'Muchbusiness?'
　　'Verylittlebusiness。'
　　'Manystrangers?'
　　'AhHeaven！'
　　Ithoughthewouldhavefainted。
　　'Then，whenwehaveseenthetwolargechurchesyonder，whatshallwedonext?'saidI。
　　Helookedupthestreet，anddownthestreet，andrubbedhischintimidly；andthensaid，glancinginmyfaceasifalighthadbrokenonhismind，yetwithahumbleappealtomyforbearancethatwasperfectlyirresistible:
　　'Wecantakealittleturnaboutthetown，Signore！'Sipuofar'unpiccologirodellacitta。
　　Itwasimpossibletobeanythingbutdelightedwiththeproposal，sowesetofftogetheringreatgood-humour。Inthereliefofhismind，heopenedhisheart，andgaveupasmuchofMantuaasaCiceronecould。
　　'Onemusteat，'hesaid；'but，bah！itwasadullplace，withoutdoubt！'
　　HemadeasmuchaspossibleoftheBasilicaofSantaAndrea-anoblechurch-andofaninclosedportionofthepavement，aboutwhichtaperswereburning，andafewpeoplekneeling，andunderwhichissaidtobepreservedtheSangrealoftheoldRomances。
　　Thischurchdisposedof，andanotherafteritthecathedralofSanPietro，wewenttotheMuseum，whichwasshutup。'Itwasallthesame，'hesaid。'Bah！Therewasnotmuchinside！'Then，wewenttoseethePiazzadelDiavolo，builtbytheDevilfornoparticularpurposeinasinglenight；then，thePiazzaVirgiliana；
　　then，thestatueofVirgil-OURPoet，mylittlefriendsaid，pluckingupaspirit，forthemoment，andputtinghishatalittleononeside。Then，wewenttoadismalsortoffarm-yard，bywhichapicture-gallerywasapproached。Themomentthegateofthisretreatwasopened，somefivehundredgeesecamewaddlingroundus，stretchingouttheirnecks，andclamouringinthemosthideousmanner，asiftheywereejaculating，'Oh！here'ssomebodycometoseethePictures！Don'tgoup！Don'tgoup！'Whilewewentup，theywaitedveryquietlyaboutthedoorinacrowd，cacklingtooneanotheroccasionally，inasubduedtone；buttheinstantweappearedagain，theirneckscameoutliketelescopes，andsettingupagreatnoise，whichmeant，Ihavenodoubt，'What，youwouldgo，wouldyou！Whatdoyouthinkofit！Howdoyoulikeit！'theyattendedustotheoutergate，andcastusforth，derisively，intoMantua。
　　ThegeesewhosavedtheCapitol，were，ascomparedtothese，PorktothelearnedPig。Whatagalleryitwas！Iwouldtaketheiropiniononaquestionofart，inpreferencetothediscoursesofSirJoshuaReynolds。
　　Nowthatwewerestandinginthestreet，afterbeingthusignominioulyescortedthither，mylittlefriendwasplainlyreducedtothe'piccologiro，'orlittlecircuitofthetown，hehadformerlyproposed。ButmysuggestionthatweshouldvisitthePalazzoTeofwhichIhadheardagreatdeal，asastrangewildplaceimpartednewlifetohim，andawaywewent。
　　ThesecretofthelengthofMidas'sears，wouldhavebeenmoreextensivelyknown，ifthatservantofhis，whowhisperedittothereeds，hadlivedinMantua，wheretherearereedsandrushesenoughtohavepublishedittoalltheworld。ThePalazzoTestandsinaswamp，amongthissortofvegetation；andis，indeed，assingularaplaceasIeversaw。
　　Notforitsdreariness，thoughitisverydreary。Notforitsdampness，thoughitisverydamp。Norforitsdesolatecondition，thoughitisasdesolateandneglectedashousecanbe。Butchieflyfortheunaccountablenightmareswithwhichitsinteriorhasbeendecoratedamongothersubjectsofmoredelicateexecution，byGiulioRomano。ThereisaleeringGiantoveracertainchimney-piece，andtherearedozensofGiantsTitanswarringwithJoveonthewallsofanotherroom，soinconceivablyuglyandgrotesque，thatitismarvelloushowanymancanhaveimaginedsuchcreatures。Inthechamberinwhichtheyabound，thesemonsters，withswollenfacesandcrackedcheeks，andeverykindofdistortionoflookandlimb，aredepictedasstaggeringundertheweightoffallingbuildings，andbeingoverwhelmedintheruins；upheavingmassesofrock，andburyingthemselvesbeneath；
　　vainlystrivingtosustainthepillarsofheavyroofsthattoppledownupontheirheads；and，inaword，undergoinganddoingeverykindofmadanddemoniacaldestruction。Thefiguresareimmenselylarge，andexaggeratedtotheutmostpitchofuncouthness；thecolouringisharshanddisagreeable；andthewholeeffectmorelikeIshouldimagineaviolentrushofbloodtotheheadofthespectator，thananyrealpicturesetbeforehimbythehandofanartist。Thisapoplecticperformancewasshownbyasickly-lookingwoman，whoseappearancewasreferable，Idaresay，tothebadairofthemarshes；butitwasdifficulttohelpfeelingasifsheweretoomuchhauntedbytheGiants，andtheywerefrighteninghertodeath，allaloneinthatexhaustedcisternofaPalace，amongthereedsandrushes，withthemistshoveringaboutoutside，andstalkingroundandrounditcontinually。
　　OurwalkthroughMantuashowedus，inalmosteverystreet，somesuppressedchurch:nowusedforawarehouse，nowfornothingatall:allascrazyanddismantledastheycouldbe，shortoftumblingdownbodily。Themarshytownwassointenselydullandflat，thatthedirtuponitseemednottohavecomethereintheordinarycourse，buttohavesettledandmantledonitssurfaceasonstandingwater。Andyetthereweresomebusiness-dealingsgoingon，andsomeprofitsrealising；fortherewerearcadesfullofJews，wherethoseextraordinarypeopleweresittingoutsidetheirshops，contemplatingtheirstoresofstuffs，andwoollens，andbrighthandkerchiefs，andtrinkets:andlooking，inallrespects，aswaryandbusiness-like，astheirbrethreninHoundsditch，London。
　　HavingselectedaVetturinofromamongtheneighbouringChristians，whoagreedtocarryustoMilanintwodaysandahalf，andtostart，nextmorning，assoonasthegateswereopened，IreturnedtotheGoldenLion，anddinedluxuriouslyinmyownroom，inanarrowpassagebetweentwobedsteads:confrontedbyasmokyfire，andbackedupbyachestofdrawers。Atsixo'clocknextmorning，wewerejinglinginthedarkthroughthewetcoldmistthatenshroudedthetown；and，beforenoon，thedriveranativeofMantua，andsixtyyearsofageorthereaboutsbeganTOASKTHEWAY
　　toMilan。
　　ItlaythroughBozzolo；formerlyalittlerepublic，andnowoneofthemostdesertedandpoverty-strickenoftowns:wherethelandlordofthemiserableinnGodblesshim！itwashisweeklycustomwasdistributinginfinitesimalcoinsamongaclamorousherdofwomenandchildren，whoseragswereflutteringinthewindandrainoutsidehisdoor，wheretheyweregatheredtoreceivehischarity。Itlaythroughmist，andmud，andrain，andvinestrainedlowupontheground，allthatdayandthenext；thefirstsleeping-
　　placebeingCremona，memorableforitsdarkbrickchurches，andimmenselyhightower，theTorrazzo-tosaynothingofitsviolins，ofwhichitcertainlyproducesnoneinthesedegeneratedays；andthesecond，Lodi。Thenwewenton，throughmoremud，mist，andrain，andmarshyground:andthroughsuchafog，asEnglishmen，stronginthefaithoftheirowngrievances，areapttobelieveisnowheretobefoundbutintheirowncountry，untilweenteredthepavedstreetsofMilan。
　　Thefogwassodensehere，thatthespireofthefar-famedCathedralmightaswellhavebeenatBombay，foranythingthatcouldbeseenofitatthattime。Butaswehaltedtorefresh，forafewdaysthen，andreturnedtoMilanagainnextsummer，Ihadampleopportunitiesofseeingthegloriousstructureinallitsmajestyandbeauty。
　　AllChristianhomagetothesaintwholieswithinit！Therearemanygoodandtruesaintsinthecalendar，butSanCarloBorromeohas-ifImayquoteMrs。Primroseonsuchasubject-'mywarmheart。'Acharitabledoctortothesick，amunificentfriendtothepoor，andthis，notinanyspiritofblindbigotry，butastheboldopponentofenormousabusesintheRomishchurch，Ihonourhismemory。Ihonouritnonetheless，becausehewasnearlyslainbyapriest，suborned，bypriests，tomurderhimatthealtar:inacknowledgmentofhisendeavourstoreformafalseandhypocriticalbrotherhoodofmonks。HeavenshieldallimitatorsofSanCarloBorromeoasitshieldedhim！AreformingPopewouldneedalittleshielding，evennow。
　　ThesubterraneanchapelinwhichthebodyofSanCarloBorromeoispreserved，presentsasstrikingandasghastlyacontrast，perhaps，asanyplacecanshow。Thetaperswhicharelighteddownthere，flashandgleamonalti-rilieviingoldandsilver，delicatelywroughtbyskilfulhands，andrepresentingtheprincipaleventsinthelifeofthesaint。Jewels，andpreciousmetals，shineandsparkleoneveryside。Awindlassslowlyremovesthefrontofthealtar；and，withinit，inagorgeousshrineofgoldandsilver，isseen，throughalabaster，theshrivelledmummyofaman:thepontificalrobeswithwhichitisadorned，radiantwithdiamonds，emeralds，rubies:everycostlyandmagnificentgem。Theshrunkenheapofpoorearthinthemidstofthisgreatglitter，ismorepitifulthanifitlayuponadung-hill。Thereisnotarayofimprisonedlightinalltheflashandfireofjewels，butseemstomockthedustyholeswhereeyeswere，once。Everythreadofsilkintherichvestmentsseemsonlyaprovisionfromthewormsthatspin，forthebehoofofwormsthatpropagateinsepulchres。
　　IntheoldrefectoryofthedilapidatedConventofSantaMariadelleGrazie，istheworkofart，perhaps，betterknownthananyotherintheworld:theLastSupper，byLeonardodaVinci-withadoorcutthroughitbytheintelligentDominicanfriars，tofacilitatetheiroperationsatdinner-time。
　　Iamnotmechanicallyacquaintedwiththeartofpainting，andhavenoothermeansofjudgingofapicturethanasIseeitresemblingandrefininguponnature，andpresentinggracefulcombinationsofformsandcolours。Iam，therefore，noauthoritywhatever，inreferencetothe'touch'ofthisorthatmaster；thoughIknowverywellasanybodymay，whochoosestothinkaboutthematterthatfewverygreatmasterscanpossiblyhavepainted，inthecompassoftheirlives，one-halfofthepicturesthatbeartheirnames，andthatarerecognisedbymanyaspirantstoareputationfortaste，asundoubtedoriginals。Butthis，bytheway。OftheLastSupper，I
　　wouldsimplyobserve，thatinitsbeautifulcompositionandarrangement，thereitis，atMilan，awonderfulpicture；andthat，initsoriginalcolouring，orinitsoriginalexpressionofanysinglefaceorfeature，thereitisnot。Apartfromthedamageithassustainedfromdamp，decay，orneglect，ithasbeenasBarryshowssoretouchedupon，andrepainted，andthatsoclumsily，thatmanyoftheheadsare，now，positivedeformities，withpatchesofpaintandplasterstickinguponthemlikewens，andutterlydistortingtheexpression。Wheretheoriginalartistsetthatimpressofhisgeniusonaface，which，almostinalineortouch，separatedhimfrommeanerpaintersandmadehimwhathewas，succeedingbunglers，fillingup，orpaintingacrossseamsandcracks，havebeenquiteunabletoimitatehishand；andputtinginsomescowls，orfrowns，orwrinkles，oftheirown，haveblotchedandspoiledthework。Thisissowellestablishedasanhistoricalfact，thatIshouldnotrepeatit，attheriskofbeingtedious，butforhavingobservedanEnglishgentlemanbeforethepicture，whowasatgreatpainstofallintowhatImaydescribeasmildconvulsions，atcertainminutedetailsofexpressionwhicharenotleftinit。Whereas，itwouldbecomfortableandrationalfortravellersandcriticstoarriveatageneralunderstandingthatitcannotfailtohavebeenaworkofextraordinarymerit，once:
　　when，withsofewofitsoriginalbeautiesremaining，thegrandeurofthegeneraldesignisyetsufficienttosustainit，asapiecerepletewithinterestanddignity。
　　WeachievedtheothersightsofMilan，induecourse，andafinecityitis，thoughnotsounmistakablyItalianastopossessthecharacteristicqualitiesofmanytownsfarlessimportantinthemselves。TheCorso，wheretheMilanesegentryrideupanddownincarriages，andratherthannotdowhich，theywouldhalfstarvethemselvesathome，isamostnoblepublicpromenade，shadedbylongavenuesoftrees。InthesplendidtheatreofLaScala，therewasaballetofactionperformedaftertheopera，underthetitleofPrometheus:inthebeginningofwhich，somehundredortwoofmenandwomenrepresentedourmortalracebeforetherefinementsoftheartsandsciences，andlovesandgraces，cameonearthtosoftenthem。Ineversawanythingmoreeffective。Generallyspeaking，thepantomimicactionoftheItaliansismoreremarkableforitssuddenandimpetuouscharacterthanforitsdelicateexpression，but，inthiscase，thedroopingmonotony:theweary，miserable，listless，mopinglife:thesordidpassionsanddesiresofhumancreatures，destituteofthoseelevatinginfluencestowhichweowesomuch，andtowhosepromoterswerendersolittle:
　　wereexpressedinamannerreallypowerfulandaffecting。Ishouldhavethoughtitalmostimpossibletopresentsuchanideasostronglyonthestage，withouttheaidofspeech。
　　Milansoonlaybehindus，atfiveo'clockinthemorning；andbeforethegoldenstatueonthesummitofthecathedralspirewaslostinthebluesky，theAlps，stupendouslyconfusedinloftypeaksandridges，cloudsandsnow，weretoweringinourpath。
　　Still，wecontinuedtoadvancetowardthemuntilnightfall；and，alldaylong，themountaintopspresentedstrangelyshiftingshapes，astheroaddisplayedthemindifferentpointsofview。
　　Thebeautifuldaywasjustdeclining，whenwecameupontheLagoMaggiore，withitslovelyislands。ForhoweverfancifulandfantastictheIsolaBellamaybe，andis，itstillisbeautiful。
　　Anythingspringingoutofthatbluewater，withthatsceneryaroundit，mustbe。
　　Itwasteno'clockatnightwhenwegottoDomod'Ossola，atthefootofthePassoftheSimplon。Butasthemoonwasshiningbrightly，andtherewasnotacloudinthestarlitsky，itwasnotimeforgoingtobed，orgoinganywherebuton。So，wegotalittlecarriage，aftersomedelay，andbegantheascent。
　　ItwaslateinNovember；andthesnowlyingfourorfivefeetthickinthebeatenroadonthesummitinotherpartsthenewdriftwasalreadydeep，theairwaspiercingcold。But，theserenityofthenight，andthegrandeuroftheroad，withitsimpenetrableshadows，anddeepglooms，anditssuddenturnsintotheshiningofthemoonanditsincessantroaroffallingwater，renderedthejourneymoreandmoresublimeateverystep。
　　SoonleavingthecalmItalianvillagesbelowus，sleepinginthemoonlight，theroadbegantowindamongdarktrees，andafteratimeemergeduponabarerregion，verysteepandtoilsome，wherethemoonshonebrightandhigh。Bydegrees，theroarofwatergrewlouder；andthestupendoustrack，aftercrossingthetorrentbyabridge，struckinbetweentwomassiveperpendicularwallsofrockthatquiteshutoutthemoonlight，andonlyleftafewstarsshininginthenarrowstripofskyabove。Then，eventhiswaslost，inthethickdarknessofacavernintherock，throughwhichthewaywaspierced；theterriblecataractthunderingandroaringclosebelowit，anditsfoamandsprayhanging，inamist，abouttheentrance。Emergingfromthiscave，andcomingagainintothemoonlight，andacrossadizzybridge，itcreptandtwistedupward，throughtheGorgeofGondo，savageandgrandbeyonddescription，withsmooth-frontedprecipices，risinguponeitherhand，andalmostmeetingoverhead。Thuswewent，climbingonourruggedway，higherandhigherallnight，withoutamoment'sweariness:lostinthecontemplationoftheblackrocks，thetremendousheightsanddepths，thefieldsofsmoothsnowlying，inthecleftsandhollows，andthefiercetorrentsthunderingheadlongdownthedeepabyss。
　　Towardsdaybreak，wecameamongthesnow，whereakeenwindwasblowingfiercely。Having，withsometrouble，awakenedtheinmatesofawoodenhouseinthissolitude:roundwhichthewindwashowlingdismally，catchingupthesnowinwreathsandhurlingitaway:wegotsomebreakfastinaroombuiltofroughtimbers，butwellwarmedbyastove，andwellcontrivedasithadneedtobe
　　forkeepingoutthebitterstorms。Asledgebeingthenmadeready，andfourhorsesharnessedtoit，wewent，ploughing，throughthesnow。Stillupward，butnowinthecoldlightofmorning，andwiththegreatwhitedesertonwhichwetravelled，plainandclear。
　　Wewerewelluponthesummitofthemountain:andhadbeforeustherudecrossofwood，denotingitsgreatestaltitudeabovethesea:whenthelightoftherisingsun，struck，allatonce，uponthewasteofsnow，andturneditadeepred。Thelonelygrandeurofthescenewasthenatitsheight。
　　Aswewentsledgingon，therecameoutoftheHospicefoundedbyNapoleon，agroupofPeasanttravellers，withstavesandknapsacks，whohadrestedtherelastnight:attendedbyaMonkortwo，theirhospitableentertainers，trudgingslowlyforwardwiththem，forcompany'ssake。Itwaspleasanttogivethemgoodmorning，andpretty，lookingbackalongwayafterthem，toseethemlookingbackatus，andhesitatingpresently，whenoneofourhorsesstumbledandfell，whetherornotheyshouldreturnandhelpus。
　　Buthewassoonupagain，withtheassistanceofaroughwaggonerwhoseteamhadstuckfasttheretoo；andwhenwehadhelpedhimoutofhisdifficulty，inreturn，welefthimslowlyploughingtowardsthem，andwentslowlyandswiftlyforward，onthebrinkofasteepprecipice，amongthemountainpines。
　　Takingtoourwheelsagain，soonafterwards，webeganrapidlytodescend；passingundereverlastingglaciers，bymeansofarchedgalleries，hungwithclustersofdrippingicicles；underandoverfoamingwaterfalls；nearplacesofrefuge，andgalleriesofshelteragainstsuddendanger；throughcavernsoverwhosearchedroofstheavalanchesslide，inspring，andburythemselvesintheunknowngulfbeneath。Down，overloftybridges，andthroughhorribleravines:alittleshiftingspeckinthevastdesolationoficeandsnow，andmonstrousgraniterocks；downthroughthedeepGorgeoftheSaltine，anddeafenedbythetorrentplungingmadlydown，amongtherivenblocksofrock，intothelevelcountry，farbelow。
　　Graduallydown，byzig-zagroads，lyingbetweenanupwardandadownwardprecipice，intowarmerweather，calmerair，andsofterscenery，untiltherelaybeforeus，glitteringlikegoldorsilverinthethawandsunshine，themetal-covered，red，green，yellow，domesandchurch-spiresofaSwisstown。
　　ThebusinessoftheserecollectionsbeingwithItaly，andmybusiness，consequently，beingtoscamperbackthitherasfastaspossible，IwillnotrecallthoughIamsorelytemptedhowtheSwissvillages，clusteredatthefeetofGiantmountains，lookedlikeplaythings；orhowconfusedlythehouseswereheapedandpiledtogether；orhowtherewereverynarrowstreetstoshutthehowlingwindsoutinthewinter-time；andbrokenbridges，whichtheimpetuoustorrents，suddenlyreleasedinspring，hadsweptaway。
　　Orhowtherewerepeasantwomenhere，withgreatroundfurcaps:
　　looking，whentheypeepedoutofcasementsandonlytheirheadswereseen，likeapopulationofSword-bearerstotheLordMayorofLondon；orhowthetownofVevey，lyingonthesmoothlakeofGeneva，wasbeautifultosee；orhowthestatueofSaintPeterinthestreetatFribourg，graspsthelargestkeythateverwasbeheld；orhowFribourgisillustriousforitstwosuspensionbridges，anditsgrandcathedralorgan。
　　Orhow，betweenthattownandBale，theroadmeanderedamongthrivingvillagesofwoodencottages，withoverhangingthatchedroofs，andlowprotrudingwindows，glazedwithsmallroundpanesofglasslikecrown-pieces；orhow，ineverylittleSwisshomestead，withitscartorwaggoncarefullystowedawaybesidethehouse，itslittlegarden，stockofpoultry，andgroupsofred-cheekedchildren，therewasanairofcomfort，verynewandverypleasantafterItaly；orhowthedressesofthewomenchangedagain，andtherewerenomoresword-bearerstobeseen；andfairwhitestomachers，andgreatblack，fan-shaped，gauzy-lookingcaps，prevailedinstead。
　　OrhowthecountrybytheJuramountains，sprinkledwithsnow，andlightedbythemoon，andmusicalwithfallingwater，wasdelightful；orhow，belowthewindowsofthegreathoteloftheThreeKingsatBale，theswollenRhineranfastandgreen；orhow，atStrasbourg，itwasquiteasfastbutnotasgreen:andwassaidtobefoggylowerdown:and，atthatlatetimeoftheyear，wasafarlesscertainmeansofprogress，thanthehighwayroadtoParis。
　　OrhowStrasbourgitself，initsmagnificentoldGothicCathedral，anditsancienthouseswiththeirpeakedroofsandgables，madealittlegalleryofquaintandinterestingviews；orhowacrowdwasgatheredinsidethecathedralatnoon，toseethefamousmechanicalclockinmotion，strikingtwelve。How，whenitstrucktwelve，awholearmyofpuppetswentthroughmanyingeniousevolutions；and，amongthem，ahugepuppet-cock，perchedonthetop，crowedtwelvetimes，loudandclear。Orhowitwaswonderfultoseethiscockatgreatpainstoclapitswings，andstrainitsthroat；butobviouslyhavingnoconnectionwhateverwithitsownvoice；whichwasdeepwithintheclock，alongwaydown。
　　OrhowtheroadtoParis，wasoneseaofmud，andthencetothecoast，alittlebetterforahardfrost。OrhowthecliffsofDoverwereapleasantsight，andEnglandwassowonderfullyneat-
　　thoughdark，andlackingcolouronawinter'sday，itmustbeconceded。
　　Orhow，afewdaysafterwards，itwascool，re-crossingthechannel，withiceuponthedecks，andsnowlyingprettydeepinFrance。OrhowtheMallePostescrambledthroughthesnow，headlong，drawninthehillypartsbyanynumberofstouthorsesatacanter；orhowtherewere，outsidethePost-officeYardinParis，beforedaybreak，extraordinaryadventurersinheapsofrags，gropinginthesnowystreetswithlittlerakes，insearchofoddsandends。
　　Orhow，betweenParisandMarseilles，thesnowbeingthenexceedingdeep，athawcameon，andthemailwadedratherthanrolledforthenextthreehundredmilesorso；breakingspringsonSundaynights，andputtingoutitstwopassengerstowarmandrefreshthemselvespendingtherepairs，inmiserablebilliard-rooms，wherehairycompany，collectedaboutstoves，wereplayingcards；thecardsbeingverylikethemselves-extremelylimpanddirty。
　　OrhowtherewasdetentionatMarseillesfromstressofweather；
　　andsteamerswereadvertisedtogo，whichdidnotgo；orhowthegoodSteam-packetCharlemagneatlengthputout，andmetsuchweatherthatnowshethreatenedtorunintoToulon，andnowintoNice，but，thewindmoderating，didneither，butranonintoGenoaharbourinstead，wherethefamiliarBellsrangsweetlyinmyear。
　　Orhowtherewasatravellingpartyonboard，ofwhomonememberwasveryillinthecabinnexttomine，andbeingillwascross，andthereforedeclinedtogiveuptheDictionary，whichhekeptunderhispillow；therebyobliginghiscompanionstocomedowntohim，constantly，toaskwhatwastheItalianforalumpofsugar-
　　aglassofbrandyandwater-what'so'clock?andsoforth:whichhealwaysinsistedonlookingout，withhisownsea-sickeyes，decliningtoentrustthebooktoanymanalive。
　　LikeGRUMIO，Imighthavetoldyou，indetail，allthisandsomethingmore-buttoaslittlepurpose-wereInotdeterredbytheremembrancethatmybusinessiswithItaly。Therefore，likeGRUMIO'Sstory，'itshalldieinoblivion。'