Neither is the
pedestrian so cruelly shut into narrow lanes, between high stone-walls,
over which he cannot get a glimpse of landscape. As I walked by the
hedges yesterday I could have fancied that the olive-trunks were those of
apple-trees, and that I was in one or other of the two lands that I love
better than Italy. But the great white villas and the farm-houses were
unlike anything I have seen elsewhere, or that I should wish to see
again, though proper enough to Italy.
October 9th.--Thursday forenoon, 8th, we went to see the Palazzo Publico.
There are some fine old halls and chapels, adorned with ancient frescos
and pictures, of which I remember a picture of the Virgin by Sodoma, very
beautiful, and other fine pictures by the same master. The architecture
of these old rooms is grand, the roofs being supported by ponderous
arches, which are covered with frescos, still magnificent, though faded,
darkened, and defaced. We likewise saw an antique casket of wood,
enriched with gilding, which had once contained an arm of John the
Baptist,--so the custode told us.
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