_Rome_ however is to be our next stage, and many of our English
gentlemen now here, are with ourselves impatiently waiting for the
numberless pleasures it is expected to afford us. I will here close this
chapter upon our various desires; one wishing to see St. Peters; one
setting his heart upon entering the Capitol: to-morrow's sun will light
us all upon our search.
ROME.
The first sleeping place between Sienna and this capital shall not
escape mentioning; its name is Radicosani, its title an inn, and its
situation the summit of an exhausted volcano. Such a place did I never
see. The violence of the mountain, when living, has split it in a
variety of places, and driven it to a breadth of base beyond
credibility, its height being no longer formidable. Whichever way you
turn your eyes, nothing but portions of this black rock appear
therefore; so here is extent without sublimity, and here is terror
mingled with disgust. The inside of the house is worthy of the prospect
seen from its windows; wild, spacious, and scantily provided. Never had
place so much the appearance of a haunted hall, where Sir Rowland or Sir
Bertrand might feel proud of their courage when
The knight advancing strikes the fatal door,
And hollow chambers send a sullen roar.
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