of the Lago di Garda, stopping at Leonato, where Napoléon achieved his brilliant victory over the Austrians in 1796. This lake is the Benacus of the ancients, and noted for the violent storms which sweep over it, rendering the surface of its waters at times like the "troubled and tempestuous ocean." Along its margin we journeyed all the night in the Italian style, about four miles the hour, and encountered at every change of horses the annoyance of buono mano. This is a call made upon the generosity of travellers by the postiglione. He opened the door with a lantern in his hand, which he flashed full upon the eyes of every passenger in turn, and called out, "Signor, buono mano! buono mano!" It was needless to affect sleep; if the light did not awaken, he had recourse to a good shake; thus we found it preferable to give immediately.

We had several agreeable companions within the diligence, especially an intelligent Italian, who delighted me by repeating stanza after stanza of Dante's poems. Then for many hours trains of Austrian soldiers with their heavy artillery marched near us. How fiercely seemed to glow the blood of the Italian as he looked out upon them, and told us of the wrongs and sufferings of his down-trodden countrymen. It is indeed a sad spectacle to behold the bondage of this once noble people. There are times, we were told, when the sight of the Austrian soldier so enrages the peasant, that he will fall upon him, even with his hoe, and inflict terrible wounds, knowing that for this revenge his life will surely be the sacrifice but such is their hatred, they will welcome death rather than sue for mercy. Hence, whenever it is possible, the soldiers are marched from post to post during the night, thus avoiding conflicts between them and the peasantry. With measured tread, unaccompanied by music, they continued to pass by the diligence until the gray light of morn

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ing chased away the stars, and we reached the fortress Peschiera on an island in the Mincio, just where it leaves the lake. It was first strongly fortified by Napoléon, and since that period has been often the scene of strife. In 1848 it endured a long siege ere it surrendered to the Piedmontese army of Carlo Alberto.

We had ample opportunity of viewing the scenery around; for the officers who were to examine our passports were yet asleep, and we waited their awakening. The "smooth-sliding Mincius," which has its birthplace in the Alps, after passing through the Lago di Garda, makes its exit at Peschiera, and flows on by "Mantua the Glorious," to mingle with the river Po. During our time of waiting, about one thousand Austrian soldiers were drawn up to meet the detachments who had borne us company during the night. They were a robust, stalwart set of men, dressed all in white except the blue facings of their coats. They have all fair complexions, and their ruddy color told they were but recently from the mountain-lands of the Tyrolean Alps. It was quite a martial sight when with "pealing drums" and flashing bayonets they greeted the new comers.

From Peschier a few hours' travel brought us to Verona. At the mere mention of that word, what visions of faithful love arise! How like a spell of magic is the memory of Juliet! It gives a sanctity to the city and its surroundings. VOL. I.-10

CHAPTER XXV.

"Am I in Italy?

Are those the distant turrets of Verona

And shall I sup where Juliet at the masque

First saw and loved, and now, by him who came

That night a stranger, sleeps from age to age?"

VERONA presented a charming aspect as we approached within its serrated walls and high towers. It is built upon the Adige, a rapid current from the distant mountains, over which are thrown several fine bridges. We drove to the Albergo delle due Torri, and after ordering dinner and obtaining a cicerone, we started out to see the tomb of Juliet. We passed through a portion of an old convent, and then along a garden to a miserable building, in which the ancient guide pointed out with great pride and importance "La tomba di Giuletta la sfortunata " (the tomb of Juliet the unfortunate). It is of a reddish marble, much broken about the edges, where it has been cut away to furnish souvenirs. Maria Louisa, the Empress of Napoléon, had ornaments made from portions of it, and the noble ladies of Verona, desirous of imitating her, were near destroying that precious sarcophagus which for centuries has awakened the enthusiasm of all tourists. Fortunately for the ciceroni, the government came to the rescue, and the ravages upon the tomb

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were stayed. In one corner of the ancient room there stood a miserable and half-starved donkey, who evidently made his home there. A red-armed woman had been washing clothes near by, and we had a suspicion the tomb of Juliet served her for a wash-tub. Our guide gravely pointed out a small aperture in the bottom, made there to permit her to breathe. while she lay in the dim, dark vault. Romeo and Juliet are supposed to have died in 1300. It was not, however, until two centuries after that the Italian authors founded a romance upon their tragic history.

We next drove to the "House of the Capulets," now a wretched little inn, then to the "Mansion of the Montagues," also a lodging-place for vetturini and donkey-drivers. In the Piazzi dei Signori we saw the singular tombs of the Scaligeri family, and in the Piazza di Bra the great Roman amphitheatre. It is of vast antiquity (built, it is imagined, about the time of the Coliseum), although still in a wonderful state of preservation. It has never been used as though it were a stone quarry, and the materials employed in constructing other edifices, as was done with the Coliseum of Rome. Since the year 1228 every Podesta, when he went into office, was compelled to expend a certain amount upon repairs for the arena. All the ranges of seats are perfect, even over the colossal arches are the Roman numbers. Then the stairways, the caverns for the wild beasts, and the subterranean passages by which they were suddenly let loose upon the doomed of the arena, are as clearly visible as though it were but yesterday that the fierce and blood-thirsty crowds thronged the amphitheatre. We climbed up row after row of seats until we stood upon the rim or topmost edge of the immense building. Plants had rooted themselves into the crevices of the stones, and long vines were pendent from the summit, while a delicate white flower, star-like in shape,

shone upon the surface of the dark rock. In the recesses of the wall and beneath the winding steps were smiths with forges, and venders of fancy articles had there made a kind of bazaar. In one corner of the arena there was a circus with a striped awning over it, and several dashing horsemen who were giving the storming of some fortress; the audience appeared but few in that mighty area capable of containing fifty thousand people. We walked around the broad parapet which encircles it, and looked out upon the panorama shut in by the far-away mountains, and then upon the forty rows of seats below us, which imagination peopled with the eager throngs of the ancient days.

The Piazza delle Erbe is the old market-place, and was filled with fruits and flowers. Each seller sat with a mammoth umbrella over him or her, made of canvas. It was there the followers of the rival houses of the Capuletti and Montecchi were wont to meet for their daily quarrels.

We visited several churches (of which there are multitudes). That of "San Lenone " was the most striking. It is the church of the patron saint of Verona, and has fine pictures and many precious relics. In the cemetery near by is the tomb of King Pepin, who died at Milan in A. D. 810.

Verona is the birthplace of Paolo Veronese, the admirable painter, but we saw very few of his paintings there; they embellish the galleries of princes in other cities. However, the inhabitants have the glory of calling him compatriot.

From "Verona the Worthy," we went on by railway, passing the battle-field of Arcola, where Napoléon won the great victory over the Austrians. Near the bridge of Arcola is an obelisk, commemorative of the event. The country around is cut into canals for the purpose of draining the land; and in one of these Napoléon remained some time, surrounded by the enemy, until his faithful guards rescued him.

At Vicenza we only tarried a short period. It has many