At Ponte Centino my passport was examined, and I was invited into an office where sat the papal custom-house officer, a thin, subtle-looking, keen-eyed, sallow personage, of aspect very suitable to be the agent of a government of priests. I communicated to him my wish to pass the custom-house without giving the officers the trouble of examining my luggage. He inquired whether I had any dutiable articles, and wrote for my signature a declaration in the negative; and then he lifted a sand-box, beneath which was a little heap of silver coins. On this delicate hint I asked what was the usual fee, and was told that fifteen pauls was the proper sum. I presume it was entirely8 an illegal charge, and that he had no right to pass any luggage without examination; but the thing is winked9 at by the authorities, and no money is better spent for the traveller's convenience than these fifteen pauls. There was a papal military officer in the room, and he, I believe, cheated me in the change of a Napoleon, as his share of the spoil. At the door a soldier met me with my passport, and looked as if he expected a fee for handing it to me; but in this he was disappointed. After I had resumed my seat in the coupe, the porter of the custom-house—a poor, sickly-looking creature, half dead with the malaria10 of the place—appeared, and demanded a fee for doing nothing to my luggage. He got three pauls, and looked but half contented11. This whole set of men seem to be as corrupt12 as official people can possibly be; and yet I hardly know whether to stigmatize13 them as corrupt, because it is not their individual delinquency, but the operation of a regular system. Their superiors know what men they are, and calculate upon their getting a living by just these means. And, indeed, the custom-house and passport regulations, as they exist in Italy, would be intolerable if there were not this facility of evading14 them at little cost. Such laws are good for nothing but to be broken.
We now began to ascend15 again, and the country grew fertile and picturesque16. We passed many mules17 and donkeys, laden18 with a sort of deep firkin on each side of the saddle, and these were heaped up with grapes, both purple and white. We bought some, and got what we should have thought an abundance at small price, only we used to get twice as many at Montanto for the same money. However, a Roman paul bought us three or four pounds even here. We still ascended19, and came soon to the gateway20 of the town of Acquapendente, which stands on a height that seems to descend21 by natural terraces to the valley below. . . .
French soldiers, in their bluish-gray coats and scarlet22 trousers, were on duty at the gate, and one of them took my passport and the vetturino's, and we then drove into the town to wait till they should be vised. We saw but one street, narrow, with tall, rusty23, aged24 houses, built of stone, evil smelling; in short, a kind of place that would be intolerably dismal25 in cloudy England, and cannot be called cheerful even under the sun of Italy. . . . Priests passed, and burly friars, one of whom was carrying a wine-barrel on his head. Little carts, laden with firkins of grapes, and donkeys with the same genial26 burden, brushed passed our vettura, finding scarce room enough in the narrow street. All the idlers of Acquapendente—and they were many—assembled to gaze at us, but not discourteously27. Indeed, I never saw an idle curiosity exercised in such a pleasant way as by the country-people of Italy. It almost deserves to be called a kindly29 interest and sympathy, instead of a hard and cold curiosity, like that of our own people, and it is displayed with such simplicity30 that it is evident no offence is intended.
By and by the vetturino brought his passport and my own, with the official vise, and we kept on our way, still ascending31, passing through vineyards and olives, and meeting grape-laden donkeys, till we came to the town of San Lorenzo Nuovo, a place built by Pius VI. as the refuge for the people of a lower town which had been made uninhabitable by malaria. The new town, which I suppose is hundreds of years old, with all its novelty shows strikingly the difference between places that grow up and shape out their streets of their own accord, as it were, and one that is built on a settled plan of malice32 aforethought. This little rural village has gates of classic architecture, a spacious33 piazza34, and a great breadth of straight and rectangular streets, with houses of uniform style, airy and wholesome35 looking to a degree seldom seen on the Continent. Nevertheless, I must say that the town looked hatefully dull and ridiculously prim36, and, of the two, I had rather spend my life in Radicofani. We drove through it, from gate to gate, without stopping, and soon came to the brow of a hill, whence we beheld37, right beneath us, the beautiful lake of Bolsena; not exactly at our feet, however, for a portion of level ground lay between, haunted by the pestilence38 which has depopulated all these shores, and made the lake and its neighborhood a solitude39. It looked very beautiful, nevertheless, with a sheen of a silver mid40 a gray like that of steel as the wind blew and the sun shone over it; and, judging by my own feelings, I should really have thought that the breeze from its surface was bracing41 and healthy.
Descending42 the hill, we passed the ruins of the old town of San Lorenzo, of which the prim village on the hill-top may be considered the daughter. There is certainly no resemblance between parent and child, the former being situated43 on a sort of precipitous bluff44, where there could have been no room for piazzas45 and spacious streets, nor accessibility except by mules, donkeys, goats, and people of Alpine46 habits. There was an ivy-covered tower on the top of the bluff, and some arched cavern47 mouths that looked as if they opened into the great darkness. These were the entrances to Etruscan tombs, for the town on top had been originally Etruscan, and the inhabitants had buried themselves in the heart of the precipitous bluffs48 after spending their lives on its summit.
Reaching the plain, we drove several miles along the shore of the lake, and found the soil fertile and generally well cultivated, especially with the vine, though there were tracks apparently50 too marshy52 to be put to any agricultural purpose. We met now and then a flock of sheep, watched by sallow-looking and spiritless men and boys, who, we took it for granted, would soon perish of malaria, though, I presume, they never spend their nights in the immediate53 vicinity of the lake. I should like to inquire whether animals suffer from the bad qualities of the air. The lake is not nearly so beautiful on a nearer view as it is from the hill above, there being no rocky margin54, nor bright, sandy beach, but everywhere this interval55 of level ground, and often swampy56 marsh51, betwixt the water and the hill. At a considerable distance from the shore we saw two islands, one of which is memorable57 as having been the scene of an empress's murder, but I cannot stop to fill my journal with historical reminiscences.
We kept onward to the town of Bolsena, which stands nearly a mile from the lake, and on a site higher than the level margin, yet not so much so, I should apprehend58, as to free it from danger of malaria. We stopped at an albergo outside of the wall of the town, and before dinner had time to see a good deal of the neighborhood. The first aspect of the town was very striking, with a vista59 into its street through the open gateway, and high above it an old, gray, square-built castle, with three towers visible at the angles, one of them battlemented, one taller than the rest, and one partially60 ruined. Outside of the town-gate there were some fragments of Etruscan ruin, capitals of pillars and altars with inscriptions61; these we glanced at, and then made our entrance through the gate.
There it was again,—the same narrow, dirty, time-darkened street of piled-up houses which we have so often seen; the same swarm62 of ill-to-do people, grape-laden donkeys, little stands or shops of roasted chestnuts63, peaches, tomatoes, white and purple figs64; the same evidence of a fertile land, and grimy poverty in the midst of abundance which nature tries to heap into their hands. It seems strange that they can never grasp it.
We had gone but a little way along this street, when we saw a narrow lane that turned aside from it and went steeply upward. Its name was on the corner,—the Via di Castello,—and as the castle promised to be more interesting than anything else, we immediately began to ascend. The street—a strange name for such an avenue—clambered upward in the oddest fashion, passing under arches, scrambling65 up steps, so that it was more like a long irregular pair of stairs than anything that Christians66 call a street; and so large a part of it was under arches that we scarcely seemed to be out of doors. At last U——, who was in advance, emerged into the upper air, and cried out that we had ascended to an upper town, and a larger one than that beneath.
It really seemed like coming up out of the earth into the midst of the town, when we found ourselves so unexpectedly in upper Bolsena. We were in a little nook, surrounded by old edifices67, and called the Piazza del Orologio, on account of a clock that was apparent somewhere. The castle was close by, and from its platform there was a splendid view of the lake and all the near hill-country. The castle itself is still in good condition, and apparently as strong as ever it was as respects the exterior69 walls; but within there seemed to be neither floor nor chamber70, nothing but the empty shell of the dateless old fortress71. The stones at the base and lower part of the building were so massive that I should think the Etrurians must have laid them; and then perhaps the Romans built a little higher, and the mediaeval people raised the battlements and towers. But we did not look long at the castle, our attention being drawn72 to the singular aspect of the town itself, which—to speak first of its most prominent characteristic—is the very filthiest73 place, I do believe, that was ever inhabited by man. Defilement74 was everywhere; in the piazza, in nooks and corners, strewing76 the miserable77 lanes from side to side, the refuse of every day, and of accumulated ages. I wonder whether the ancient Romans were as dirty a people as we everywhere find those who have succeeded them; for there seems to have been something in the places that have been inhabited by Romans, or made famous in their history, and in the monuments of every kind that they have raised, that puts people in mind of their very earthliness, and incites78 them to defile75 therewith whatever temple, column, ruined palace, or triumphal arch may fall in their way. I think it must be an hereditary79 trait, probably weakened and robbed of a little of its horror by the influence of milder ages; and I am much afraid that Caesar trod narrower and fouler80 ways in his path to power than those of modern Rome, or even of this disgusting town of Bolsena. I cannot imagine anything worse than these, however. Rotten vegetables thrown everywhere about, musty straw, standing81 puddles82, running rivulets83 of dissolved nastiness,—these matters were a relief amid viler84 objects. The town was full of great black hogs85 wallowing before every door, and they grunted86 at us with a kind of courtesy and affability as if the town were theirs, and it was their part to be hospitable87 to strangers. Many donkeys likewise accosted88 us with braying89; children, growing more uncleanly every day they lived, pestered90 us with begging; men stared askance at us as they lounged in corners, and women endangered us with slops which they were flinging from doorways91 into the street. No decent words can describe, no admissible image can give an idea of this noisome93 place. And yet, I remember, the donkeys came up the height loaded with fruit, and with little flat-sided barrels of wine; the people had a good atmosphere—except as they polluted it themselves—on their high site, and there seemed to be no reason why they should not live a beautiful and jolly life.
I did not mean to write such an ugly description as the above, but it is well, once for all, to have attempted conveying an idea of what disgusts the traveller, more or less, in all these Italian towns. Setting aside this grand characteristic, the upper town of Bolsena is a most curious and interesting place. It was originally an Etruscan city, the ancient Volsinii, and when taken and destroyed by the Romans was said to contain two thousand statues. Afterwards the Romans built a town upon the site, including, I suppose, the space occupied by the lower city, which looks as if it had brimmed over like Radicofani, and fallen from the precipitous height occupied by the upper. The latter is a strange confusion of black and ugly houses, piled massively out of the ruins of former ages, built rudely and without plan, as a pauper94 would build his hovel, and yet with here and there an arched gateway, a cornice, a pillar, that might have adorned95 a palace. . . . The streets are the narrowest I have seen anywhere,—of no more width, indeed, than may suffice for the passage of a donkey with his panniers. They wind in and out in strange confusion, and hardly look like streets at all, but, nevertheless, have names printed on the corners, just as if they were stately avenues. After looking about us awhile and drawing half-breaths so as to take in the less quantity of gaseous96 pollution, we went back to the castle, and descended97 by a path winding98 downward from it into the plain outside of the town-gate.
It was now dinner-time, . . . . and we had, in the first place, some fish from the pestiferous lake; not, I am sorry to say, the famous stewed99 eels100 which, Dante says, killed Pope Martin, but some trout101. . . . By the by, the meal was not dinner, but our midday colazione. After despatching it, we again wandered forth102 and strolled round the outside of the lower town, which, with the upper one, made as picturesque a combination as could be desired. The old wall that surrounds the lower town has been appropriated, long since, as the back wall of a range of houses; windows have been pierced through it; upper chambers103 and loggie have been built upon it; so that it looks something like a long row of rural dwellings104 with one continuous front or back, constructed in a strange style of massive strength, contrasting with the vines that here and there are trained over it, and with the wreaths of yellow corn that hang from the windows. But portions of the old battlements are interspersed105 with the line of homely106 chambers and tiled house-tops. Within the wall the town is very compact, and above its roofs rises a rock, the sheer, precipitous bluff on which stands the upper town, whose foundations impend107 over the highest roof in the lower. At one end is the old castle, with its towers rising above the square battlemented mass of the main fortress; and if we had not seen the dirt and squalor that dwells within this venerable outside, we should have carried away a picture of gray, grim dignity, presented by a long past age to the present one, to put its mean ways and modes to shame. ——— sat diligently108 sketching110, and children came about her, exceedingly unfragrant, but very courteous28 and gentle, looking over her shoulders, and expressing delight as they saw each familiar edifice68 take its place in the sketch109. They are a lovable people, these Italians, as I find from almost all with whom we come in contact; they have great and little faults, and no great virtues111 that I know of; but still are sweet, amiable112, pleasant to encounter, save when they beg, or when you have to bargain with them.
We left Bolsena and drove to Viterbo, passing the gate of the picturesque town of Montefiascone, over the wall of which I saw spires113 and towers, and the dome114 of a cathedral. I was sorry not to taste, in its own town, the celebrated115 est, which was the death-draught of the jolly prelate. At Viterbo, however, I called for some wine of Montefiascone, and had a little straw-covered flask116, which the waiter assured us was the genuine est-wine. It was of golden color, and very delicate, somewhat resembling still champagne117, but finer, and requiring a calmer pause to appreciate its subtle delight. Its good qualities, however, are so evanescent, that the finer flavor became almost imperceptible before we finished the flask.
Viterbo is a large, disagreeable town, built at the foot of a mountain, the peak of which is seen through the vista of some of the narrow streets.
There are more fountains in Viterbo than I have seen in any other city of its size, and many of them of very good design. Around most of them there were wine-hogsheads, waiting their turn to be cleansed118 and rinsed119, before receiving the wine of the present vintage. Passing a doorway92, J——- saw some men treading out the grapes in a great vat49 with their naked feet.
Among the beggars here, the loudest and most vociferous120 was a crippled postilion, wearing his uniform jacket, green, faced with red; and he seemed to consider himself entitled still to get his living from travellers, as having been disabled in the way of his profession. I recognized his claim, and was rewarded with a courteous and grateful bow at our departure. . . . To beggars—after my much experience both in England and Italy—I give very little, though I am not certain that it would not often be real beneficence in the latter country. There being little or no provision for poverty and age, the poor must often suffer. Nothing can be more earnest than their entreaties121 for aid; nothing seemingly more genuine than their gratitude122 when they receive it.
They return you the value of their alms in prayers, and say, "God will accompany you." Many of them have a professional whine123, and a certain doleful twist of the neck and turn of the head, which hardens my heart against them at once. A painter might find numerous models among them, if canvas had not already been more than sufficiently124 covered with their style of the picturesque. There is a certain brick-dust colored cloak worn in Viterbo, not exclusively by beggars, which, when ragged125 enough, is exceedingly artistic126.
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1
dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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taper
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| n.小蜡烛，尖细，渐弱；adj.尖细的；v.逐渐变小 | |
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rumbled
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| 发出隆隆声，发出辘辘声( rumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 轰鸣着缓慢行进； 发现…的真相； 看穿（阴谋） | |
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onward
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| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
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thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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8
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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9
winked
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| v.使眼色( wink的过去式和过去分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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10
malaria
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| n.疟疾 | |
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contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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corrupt
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| v.贿赂，收买；adj.腐败的，贪污的 | |
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13
stigmatize
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| v.污蔑，玷污 | |
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evading
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| 逃避( evade的现在分词 )； 避开； 回避； 想不出 | |
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15
ascend
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| vi.渐渐上升，升高；vt.攀登，登上 | |
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picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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mules
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| 骡( mule的名词复数 )； 拖鞋； 顽固的人； 越境运毒者 | |
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laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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gateway
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| n.大门口，出入口，途径，方法 | |
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descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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genial
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| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
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discourteously
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| adv.不礼貌地，粗鲁地 | |
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courteous
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| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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ascending
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| adj.上升的，向上的 | |
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malice
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| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
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spacious
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| adj.广阔的，宽敞的 | |
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piazza
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| n.广场；走廊 | |
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wholesome
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| adj.适合；卫生的；有益健康的；显示身心健康的 | |
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prim
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| adj.拘泥形式的，一本正经的；n.循规蹈矩，整洁；adv.循规蹈矩地，整洁地 | |
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beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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pestilence
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| n.瘟疫 | |
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solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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mid
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| adj.中央的，中间的 | |
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bracing
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| adj.令人振奋的 | |
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42
descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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43
situated
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| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
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44
bluff
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| v.虚张声势，用假象骗人；n.虚张声势，欺骗 | |
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45
piazzas
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| n.广场，市场( piazza的名词复数 ) | |
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46
alpine
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| adj.高山的；n.高山植物 | |
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47
cavern
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| n.洞穴，大山洞 | |
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48
bluffs
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| 恐吓( bluff的名词复数 )； 悬崖； 峭壁 | |
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49
vat
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| n.(=value added tax)增值税，大桶 | |
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50
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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51
marsh
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| n.沼泽，湿地 | |
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52
marshy
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| adj.沼泽的 | |
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53
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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54
margin
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| n.页边空白；差额；余地，余裕；边，边缘 | |
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55
interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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56
swampy
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| adj.沼泽的，湿地的 | |
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57
memorable
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| adj.值得回忆的，难忘的，特别的，显著的 | |
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58
apprehend
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| vt.理解，领悟，逮捕，拘捕，忧虑 | |
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59
vista
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| n.远景，深景，展望，回想 | |
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60
partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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61
inscriptions
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| （作者）题词( inscription的名词复数 )； 献词； 碑文； 证劵持有人的登记 | |
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62
swarm
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| n.(昆虫)等一大群；vi.成群飞舞；蜂拥而入 | |
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chestnuts
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| n.栗子( chestnut的名词复数 )；栗色；栗树；栗色马 | |
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figs
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| figures 数字，图形，外形 | |
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scrambling
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的现在分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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Christians
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| n.基督教徒( Christian的名词复数 ) | |
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edifices
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| n.大建筑物( edifice的名词复数 ) | |
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edifice
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| n.宏伟的建筑物(如宫殿，教室) | |
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exterior
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| adj.外部的，外在的；表面的 | |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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fortress
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| n.堡垒，防御工事 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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filthiest
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| filthy（肮脏的，污秽的）的最高级形式 | |
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defilement
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| n.弄脏，污辱，污秽 | |
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defile
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| v.弄污，弄脏；n.(山间)小道 | |
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strewing
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| v.撒在…上( strew的现在分词 )；散落于；点缀；撒满 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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incites
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| 刺激，激励，煽动( incite的第三人称单数 ) | |
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hereditary
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| adj.遗传的，遗传性的，可继承的，世袭的 | |
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fouler
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| adj.恶劣的( foul的比较级 )；邪恶的；难闻的；下流的 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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puddles
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| n.水坑， （尤指道路上的）雨水坑( puddle的名词复数 ) | |
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rivulets
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| n.小河，小溪( rivulet的名词复数 ) | |
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viler
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| adj.卑鄙的( vile的比较级 )；可耻的；极坏的；非常讨厌的 | |
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hogs
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| n.（尤指喂肥供食用的）猪( hog的名词复数 )；（供食用的）阉公猪；彻底地做某事；自私的或贪婪的人 | |
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grunted
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
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hospitable
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| adj.好客的；宽容的；有利的，适宜的 | |
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accosted
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| v.走过去跟…讲话( accost的过去式和过去分词 )；跟…搭讪；（乞丐等）上前向…乞讨；（妓女等）勾搭 | |
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braying
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| v.发出驴叫似的声音( bray的现在分词 )；发嘟嘟声；粗声粗气地讲话（或大笑）；猛击 | |
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pestered
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| 使烦恼，纠缠( pester的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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doorways
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| n.门口，门道( doorway的名词复数 ) | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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noisome
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| adj.有害的，可厌的 | |
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pauper
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| n.贫民，被救济者，穷人 | |
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adorned
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| [计]被修饰的 | |
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gaseous
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| adj.气体的，气态的 | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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stewed
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| adj.焦虑不安的，烂醉的v.炖( stew的过去式和过去分词 )；煨；思考；担忧 | |
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eels
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| abbr. 电子发射器定位系统（=electronic emitter location system） | |
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101
trout
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| n.鳟鱼；鲑鱼(属) | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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chambers
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| n.房间( chamber的名词复数 )；（议会的）议院；卧室；会议厅 | |
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dwellings
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| n.住处，处所( dwelling的名词复数 ) | |
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interspersed
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| adj.[医]散开的；点缀的v.intersperse的过去式和过去分词 | |
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homely
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| adj.家常的，简朴的；不漂亮的 | |
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107
impend
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| v.迫近，逼近，即将发生 | |
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diligently
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| ad.industriously;carefully | |
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109
sketch
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| n.草图；梗概；素描；v.素描；概述 | |
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sketching
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| n.草图 | |
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111
virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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spires
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| n.（教堂的） 塔尖，尖顶( spire的名词复数 ) | |
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114
dome
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| n.圆屋顶，拱顶 | |
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115
celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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116
flask
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| n.瓶，火药筒，砂箱 | |
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117
champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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118
cleansed
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| 弄干净，清洗( cleanse的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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rinsed
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| v.漂洗( rinse的过去式和过去分词 )；冲洗；用清水漂洗掉（肥皂泡等）；（用清水）冲掉 | |
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120
vociferous
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| adj.喧哗的，大叫大嚷的 | |
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121
entreaties
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| n.恳求，乞求( entreaty的名词复数 ) | |
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122
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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123
whine
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| v.哀号，号哭；n.哀鸣 | |
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124
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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125
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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artistic
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| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
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