William Beckford - Italy; with sketches of Spain and Portugal

How long I continued in this strange temper I cannot pretend to say, but believe it was midnight before we emerged from the oracular forest, and saw faintly before us an assemblage of miserable huts, where we were to sleep. This wretched hamlet is suspended on the brow of a bleak mountain, and every gust that stirs, shakes the whole village to its foundations. At our approach two hags stalked forth with lanterns and invited us with a grin, which I shall always remember, to a dish of mustard and crows’ gizzards, a dish I was more than half afraid of tasting, lest it should change me to some bird of darkness, condemned to mope eternally on the black rafters of the cottage.

After repeated supplications we procured a few eggs, and some faggots to make a fire. Pitching my bed in a warm corner I soon fell asleep, and forgot all my cares and inquietudes.

A sterile region. – Our descent into a milder landscape. – Distant view of Florence. – Moonlight effect. – Visit the Gallery. – Relics of ancient credulity. – Paintings. – A Medusa’s head by Leonardo da Vinci. – Curious picture by Polemberg. – The Venus de Medicis. – Exquisitely sculptured figure of Morpheus. – Vast Cathedral. – Garden of Boboli. – Views from different parts of it. – Its resemblance to an antique Roman garden.

THE sun had not been long above the horizon, before we set forward upon a craggy pavement hewn out of rough cliffs and precipices. Scarcely a tree was visible, and the few that presented themselves began already to shed their leaves. The raw nipping air of this desert with difficulty spares a blade of vegetation; and in the whole range of these extensive eminences I could not discover a single corn-field or pasture. Inhabitants, you may guess, there were none. I would defy even a Scotch highlander to find means of subsistence in so rude a soil.

Towards mid-day, we had surmounted the dreariest part of our journey, and began to perceive a milder landscape. The climate improved as well as the prospect, and after a continual descent of several hours, we saw groves and villages in the dips of the hills, and met a string of mules and horses laden with fruit. I purchased some figs and peaches from this little caravan, and spread my repast upon a bank, in the midst of lavender bushes in full bloom.

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This crucifix was made of the bronze which had formed the statue of the terrible Duke of Alva, swept in its first form from the citadel where it was proudly stationed, in a moment of popular fury.

The History of John Bull explains this ridiculous appellation.

Hills in the neighbourhood of Canton.

Apuleius Met: Lib. 5.

Schönberg, beautiful mountain.

Ariosto Orlando Furioso. — Canto 7, stanza 32.

A nephew of Bertoni, the celebrated composer.