We went, first of all, up a rocky height, to the cathedral, where Mass was
performing to an auditory very like that of Lyons, namely, several old
women, a baby, and a very self-possest dog, who had marked out for himself
a little course or platform for exercise, beginning at the altar-rails and
ending at the door, up and down which constitutional walk he trotted,
during the service, as methodically and calmly, as any old gentleman out
of doors. It is a bare old church, and the paintings in the roof are sadly
defaced by time and damp weather; but the sun was shining in, splendidly,
through the red curtains of the windows, and glittering on the altar
furniture; and it looked as bright and cheerful as need be.
Hard by the cathedral stands the ancient Palace of the Popes, of which one
portion is now a common jail, and another a noisy barrack; while gloomy
suites of state apartments, shut up and deserted, mock their own old state
and glory, like the embalmed bodies of kings. But we neither went there to
see state rooms, nor soldiers' quarters, nor a common jail, tho we dropt
some money into a prisoners' box outside, while the prisoners, themselves,
looked through the iron bars, high, up, and watched us eagerly.
Pages:
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168