Even with that rage wherewith the stream that reigns,
The king of rivers—when he breaks his mound.
And makes himself a way through Mantuan plains—
The greasy furrows and glad harvests, round,
And, with the sheepcotes, nock, and dogs and swains
Bears off, in his o'erwhelming waters drowned.
—Trans. W.S. ROSE.
The next place I went to see was the Lyceum or University, where there is a very fair cabinet of natural history in all its branches. The Library is very remarkable, and possesses a great number of valuable manuscripts. But my principal object in visiting this Museum was to see the monument erected in honour of Ariosto, which has been transferred here from the Benedictine church. The inkstand and chair of this illustrious bard are carefully preserved and exhibited. They exactly resemble the print of them that accompanies the first edition of Hoole's translation of the Orlando Furioso. Among the manuscripts what gratified me most was the manuscript of the Gerusalemme liberata of Tasso. But few corrections appear in this manuscript; tho from the extreme polish and harmony of the versification one would expect a great many. It is written in an extremely legible hand.
I also inspected the original manuscripts of the Pastor Fido of Guarini and of the Suppositi of Ariosto.
I then went to visit the Hospital of St Anna, for the sake of seeing the dungeon where poor Tasso was confined and treated as mad for several years. When one beholds this wretched place, where a man can scarce stand upright, one only wonders how he could survive such treatment; or how he could escape becoming insane altogether. The old wooden door of this cell will soon be entirely cut away by amateurs, as almost everyone who visits the dungeon chops off a piece of wood from the door to keep as a relic. The door is in consequence pieced and repaired with new wood, and in a short time will be in the state of Sir John Cutter's worsted stockings which were darned so often with silk that they became finally all silk.
Ferrara has a strong citadel which is still garrisoned by Austrian troops; and they will probably not easily be induced to evacuate it. The Austrian Eagle seldom looses his hold.
VENICE, 18th May.
On the 16th May at six o'clock in the morning I left Ferrara in a cabriolet to go to the Ponte di Lago oscuro, which is a large village on the south bank of the Po, three miles distant from Ferrara. A flying bridge wafted me across the river, which is exceedingly broad and rapid to the north bank, where a barge was in waiting to receive passengers for Venice. This barge is well fitted up and supplied with comestibles of all sorts and couches to recline on. The price is twelve francs for the passage, and you pay extra for refreshments. The bark got under weigh at seven o'clock and descended rapidly this majestic river, which however, from its great breadth, and from the country on each side of it being perfectly flat, did not offer any interesting points of view. Plains and cattle grazing thereon were the only objects, for they take care to build the farms and houses at a considerable distance from the banks, on account of the inundations. After having descended the Po for a considerable distance, we entered a canal which unites the Po with the Adige. We then descended the Adige for a short distance, and entered another canal which unites the Adige with the Brenta. Here we stopped to change barges, and it required an hour and half to unload and reload the baggage. We then entered the Brenta and from thence into the Lagoons, and passing by the islands of Malamocco and Chiozzo entered Venice by the Canale grande at three o'clock in the morning. The whole night was so dark as totally to deprive us of the view of the approach of Venice. The barge anchored near the Post office and I hired a gondola to convey me to the inn called Le Regina d'Ungheria.
VENICE, 26th May.
I was much struck, as everyone must be who sees it for the first time, at the singular appearance of Venice. An immense city in the midst of the Ocean, five miles distant from any land; canals instead of streets; gondolas in lieu of carriages and horses! Yet it must not be inferred from this that you are necessarily obliged to use a gondola in order to visit the various parts of the city; for its structure is as follows. It is built in compartments on piles on various mud banks, always covered indeed by water, but very shallow and separated from each other (the mud banks I mean) by deep water. On each of these compartments are built rows of houses, each row giving front to a canal. The space between the backs of the rows of houses forms a narrow street or alley paved with flag stones, very like Cranborn Alley for instance; and these compartments are united to each other (at the crossings as we should say) by means of stone bridges; so that there is a series of alleys connected by a series of bridges which form the tout ensemble of this city; and you may thus go on foot thro' every part of it. To go on horseback would be dangerous and almost impracticable, for each bridge has a flight of steps for ascent and descent. All this forms such a perfect labyrinth from the multiplicity and similarity of the alleys and bridges, that it is impossible for any stranger to find his way without a guide. I lost my way regularly every time that I went from my inn to the Piazza di San Marco, which forms the general rendezvous of the promenaders and is the fashionable lounge of Venice; and every time I was obliged to hire a boy to reconduct me to my inn. On this account, in order to avoid this perplexity and the expence of hiring a gondola every time I wished to go to the Piazza di San Marco I removed to another inn, close to it, called L'Osteria della Luna, which stands on the banks of the Canale grande and is not twenty yards from the Piazza.