Travels Through France And Italy by Tobias Smollett (fastest ebook reader .txt) 📕

There Are Some Beautiful Marbles, Particularly The Font, And A

Pulpit, Supported By The Statues Of Different Animals.

Between The Cathedral And This Building, About One Hundred Paces 

On One Side, Is The Famous Burying-Ground, Called Campo Santo,

From Its Being Covered With Earth Brought From Jerusalem. It Is

An Oblong Square, Surrounded By A Very High Wall, And Always Kept

Shut. Within-Side There Is A Spacious Corridore Round The Whole

Space, Which Is A Noble Walk For A Contemplative Philosopher. It

Is Paved Chiefly With Flat Grave-Stones: The Walls Are Painted In

Fresco By Ghiotto, Giottino, Stefano, Bennoti, Bufalmaco, And

Some Others Of His Cotemporaries And Disciples, Who Flourished

Immediately After The Restoration Of Painting. The Subjects Are

Taken From The Bible. Though The Manner Is Dry, The Drawing

Incorrect, The Design Generally Lame, And The Colouring

Unnatural; Yet There Is Merit In The Expression: And The Whole

Remains As A Curious Monument Of The Efforts Made By This Noble

Art Immediately After Her Revival. [The History Of Job By Giotto

Is Much Admired.] Here Are Some Deceptions In Perspective Equally

Ingenious And Pleasing; Particularly The Figures Of Certain

Animals, Which Exhibit Exactly The Same Appearance, From Whatever

Different Points Of View They Are Seen. One Division Of The

Burying-Ground Consists Of A Particular Compost, Which In Nine

Days Consumes The Dead Bodies To The Bones: In All Probability,

It Is No Other Than Common Earth Mixed With Quick-Lime. At One

Corner Of The Corridore, There Are The Pictures Of Three Bodies

Represented In The Three Different Stages Of Putrefaction Which

They Undergo When Laid In This Composition. At The End Of The

Three First Days, The Body Is Bloated And Swelled, And The

Features Are Enlarged And Distorted To Such A Degree, As Fills

The Spectator With Horror. At The Sixth Day, The Swelling Is

Subsided, And All The Muscular Flesh Hangs Loosened From The

Bones: At The Ninth, Nothing But The Skeleton Remains. There Is A

Small Neat Chapel At One End Of The Campo Santo, With Some Tombs,

On One Of Which Is A Beautiful Bust By Buona Roti. [Here Is A

Sumptuous Cenotaph Erected By Pope Gregory Xiii. To The Memory Of

His Brother Giovanni Buoncampagni. It Is Called The Monumentum

Gregorianum, Of A Violet-Coloured Marble From Scravezza In This

Neighbourhood, Adorned With A Couple Of Columns Of Touchstone,

And Two Beautiful Spherical Plates Of Alabaster.] At The Other

End Of The Corridore, There Is A Range Of Antient Sepulchral

Stones Ornamented With Basso-Relievo Brought Hither From

Different Parts By The Pisan Fleets In The Course Of Their

Expeditions. I Was Struck With The Figure Of A Woman Lying Dead

On A Tomb-Stone, Covered With A Piece Of Thin Drapery, So

Delicately Cut As To Shew All The Flexures Of The Attitude, And

Even All The Swellings And Sinuosities Of The Muscles. Instead Of

Stone, It Looks Like A Sheet Of Wet Linen. [One Of These

Antiquities Representing The Hunting Of Meleager Was Converted

Into A Coffin For The Countess Beatrice, Mother Of The Famous

Countess Mathilda; It Is Now Fixed To The Outside Of The Church

Wall Just By One Of The Doors, And Is A Very Elegant Piece Of

Sculpture. Near The Same Place Is A Fine Pillar Of Porphyry

Supporting The Figure Of A Lion, And A Kind Of Urn Which Seems To

Be A Sarcophagus, Though An Inscription Round The Base Declares

It Is A Talentum In Which The Antient Pisans Measured The Census

Or Tax Which They Payed To Augustus: But In What Metal Or Specie

This Census Was Payed We Are Left To Divine. There Are Likewise 

In The Campo Santo Two Antique Latin Edicts Of The Pisan Senate

Injoining The Citizens To Go Into Mourning For The Death Of Caius

And Lucius Caesar The Sons Of Agrippa, And Heirs Declared Of The

Emperor. Fronting This Cemetery, On The Other Side Of The Piazza

Of The Dome, Is A Large, Elegant Hospital In Which The Sick Are

Conveniently And Comfortably Lodged, Entertained, And Attended.]

For Four Zechines I Hired A Return-Coach And Four From Pisa To

Florence. This Road, Which Lies Along The Arno, Is Very Good; And

The Country Is Delightful, Variegated With Hill And Vale, Wood

And Water, Meadows And Corn-Fields, Planted And Inclosed Like The

Counties Of Middlesex And Hampshire; With This Difference,

However, That All The Trees In This Tract Were Covered With

Vines, And The Ripe Clusters Black And White, Hung Down From

Every Bough In A Most Luxuriant And Romantic Abundance. The Vines

In This Country Are Not Planted In Rows, And Propped With Sticks,

As In France And The County Of Nice, But Twine Around The Hedge-

Row Trees, Which They Almost Quite Cover With Their Foliage And

Fruit. The Branches Of The Vine Are Extended From Tree To Tree,

Exhibiting Beautiful Festoons Of Real Leaves, Tendrils, And

Swelling Clusters A Foot Long. By This Oeconomy The Ground Of The

Inclosure Is Spared For Corn, Grass, Or Any Other Production. The

Trees Commonly Planted For The Purpose Of Sustaining The Vines,

Are Maple, Elm, And Aller, With Which Last The Banks Of The Arno

Abound. [It Would Have Been Still More For The Advantage Of The

Country And The Prospect, If Instead Of These They Had Planted

Fruit Trees For The Purpose.] This River, Which Is Very

Inconsiderable With Respect To The Quantity Of Water, Would Be A

Charming Pastoral Stream, If It Was Transparent; But It Is Always

Muddy And Discoloured. About Ten Or A Dozen Miles Below Florence,

There Are Some Marble Quarries On The Side Of It, From Whence The

Blocks Are Conveyed In Boats, When There Is Water Enough In The

River To Float Them, That Is After Heavy Rains, Or The Melting Of

The Snow Upon The Mountains Of Umbria, Being Part Of The

Apennines, From Whence It Takes Its Rise.

Florence Is A Noble City, That Still Retains All The Marks Of A

Majestic Capital, Such As Piazzas, Palaces, Fountains, Bridges,

Statues, And Arcades. I Need Not Te11 You That The Churches Here

Are Magnificent, And Adorned Not Only With Pillars Of Oriental

Granite, Porphyry, Jasper, Verde Antico, And Other Precious

Stones; But Also With Capital Pieces Of Painting By The Most

Eminent Masters. Several Of These Churches, However, Stand

Without Fronts, For Want Of Money To Complete The Plans. It May

Also Appear Superfluous To Mention My Having Viewed The Famous

Gallery Of Antiquities, The Chapel Of St. Lorenzo, The Palace Of

Pitti, The Cathedral, The Baptisterium, Ponte De Trinita, With

Its Statues, The Triumphal Arch, And Every Thing Which Is

Commonly Visited In This Metropolis. But All These Objects Having

Been Circumstantially Described By Twenty Different Authors Of 

Travels, I Shall Not Trouble You With A Repetition Of Trite

Observations.

That Part Of The City Which Stands On Each Side Of The River,

Makes A Very Elegant Appearance, To Which The Four Bridges And

The Stone-Quay Between Them, Contribute In A Great Measure. I

Lodged At The Widow Vanini's, An English House Delightfully

Situated In This Quarter. The Landlady, Who Is Herself A Native

Of England, We Found Very Obliging. The Lodging-Rooms Are

Comfortable; And The Entertainment Is Good And Reasonable. There

Is A Considerable Number Of Fashionable People At Florence, And

Many Of Them In Good Circumstances. They Affect A Gaiety In Their

Dress, Equipage, And Conversation; But Stand Very Much On Their

Punctilio With Strangers; And Will Not, Without Great Reluctance,

Admit Into Their Assemblies Any Lady Of Another Country, Whose

Noblesse Is Not Ascertained By A Title. This Reserve Is In Some

Measure Excusable Among A People Who Are Extremely Ignorant Of

Foreign Customs, And Who Know That In Their Own Country, Every

Person, Even The Most Insignificant, Who Has Any Pretensions To

Family, Either Inherits, Or Assumes The Title Of Principe, Conte,

Or Marchese.

With All Their Pride, However, The Nobles Of Florence Are Humble

Enough To Enter Into Partnership With Shop-Keepers, And Even To

Sell Wine By Retail. It Is An Undoubted Fact, That In Every

Palace Or Great House In This City, There Is A Little Window

Fronting The Street, Provided With An Iron-Knocker, And Over It

Hangs An Empty Flask, By Way Of Sign-Post. Thither You Send Your

Servant To Buy A Bottle Of Wine. He Knocks At The Little Wicket,

Which Is Opened Immediately By A Domestic, Who Supplies Him With

What He Wants, And Receives The Money Like The Waiter Of Any

Other Cabaret. It Is Pretty Extraordinary, That It Should Not Be

Deemed A Disparagement In A Nobleman To Sell Half A Pound Of

Figs, Or A Palm Of Ribbon Or Tape, Or To Take Money For A Flask

Of Sour Wine; And Yet Be Counted Infamous To Match His Daughter

In The Family Of A Person Who Has Distinguished Himself In Any

One Of The Learned Professions.

Though Florence Be Tolerably Populous, There Seems To Be Very

Little Trade Of Any Kind In It: But The Inhabitants Flatter

Themselves With The Prospect Of Reaping Great Advantage From The

Residence Of One Of The Arch-Dukes, For Whose Reception They Are

Now Repairing The Palace Of Pitti. I Know Not What The Revenues

Of Tuscany May Amount To, Since The Succession Of The Princes Of

Lorraine; But, Under The Last Dukes Of The Medici Family, They

Were Said To Produce Two Millions Of Crowns, Equal To Five

Hundred Thousand Pounds Sterling. These Arose From A Very Heavy

Tax Upon Land And Houses, The Portions Of Maidens, And Suits At 

Law, Besides The Duties Upon Traffick, A Severe Gabelle