Page 36 - merged

A noble mountain-pass, with the ruins of a fort on a
strong eminence, traditionally called the Fort of Fra Dia-
volo; the old town of Itri, like a device in pastry, built up,
almost perpendicularly, on a hill, and approached by long
steep flights of steps; beautiful Mola di Gaeta, whose wines,
like those of Albano, have degenerated since the days of
Horace, or his taste for wine was bad: which is not likely
of one who enjoyed it so much, and extolled it so well;
another night upon the road at St. Agata; a rest next day
at Capua, which is picturesque but hardly so seductive to a
traveller now, as the soldiers of Praetorian Rome were wont
to find the ancient city of that name; a flat road among
vines festooned and looped from tree to tree; and Mount
Vesuvius close at hand at last! - its cone and summit whi-
tened with snow; and its smoke hanging over it, on the
heavy atmosphere of the day, like a dense cloud. So we go,
rattling downhill, into Naples.

A funeral is coming up the street, towards us.
The body, on an open bier, borne on a kind of palan-
quin, covered with a gay cloth of crimson and gold. The
mourners, in white gowns and masks. If there be death
abroad, life is well represented too, for all Naples would
seem to be out of doors, and tearing to and from in car-
riages. Some of these, the common Vetturino vehicles,
are drawn by three horses abreast, decked with smart
trappings and great abundance of brazen ornament, and
always going very fast. Not that their loads are light; for
the smallest of them has at least six people inside, four in
front, four or five more hanging on behind, and two or

32