upon it; you are a disagreeable creature and may be I shall not care for you.  Though I am so tired in this devil of a place, yet I have taken it into my head, that it is like Hamilton’s Bawn, (197) and I must write to you.  ’Tis the top of a black barren mountain, a vile little town at the foot of an old citadel:  yet this, know you, was the residence of one of the three kings that went to Christ’s birth-day; his name was Alabaster, Abarasser, or some such thing; the other two were kings, one of the East, the other of Cologn.  ’Tis this of Cofano, who was represented in an ancient painting found in the Palatine Mount, now in the possession of Dr. Mead; he was crowned by Augustus.  Well, but about writing-what do you think I write with?  Nay, with a pen; there was never a one to be found in the whole circumference but one, and that was in the possession of the governor, and had been used time out of mind to write the parole with :  I was forced to send to borrow it.  It was sent me under the conduct of a sergeant and two Swiss, with desire to return it when I should have done with it.  ’Tis a curiosity, and worthy to be laid up with the relics which we have just been seeing- in a small hovel of Capucins, on the side of the hill, and which were all brought by his Majesty from Jerusalem.  Among other things of great sanctity there is a set of gnashing of teeth, the grinders very entire; a bit of the worm that never dies, preserved in spirits; a crow of St. Peter’s cock, very useful against Easter; the crisping and curling, frizzling and frowncing of Mary Magdalen, which she cut off on growing devout.  The good man that showed us all these commodities was got into such a train of calling them the blessed this, and blessed that, that at last he showed us a bit of the blessed fig-tree that Christ cursed.

Florence, July 9.

My dear Harry, We are come hither, and I have received another letter from you with Hosier’s Ghost.  Your last put me in pain for you, when you talked of going to Ireland; but now I find your brother and sister go with you, I am not much concerned.  Should I be?  You have but to say, for my feelings are extremely at your service to dispose as you please.  Let us see:  you are to come back to stand for some place; that will be about April.  ’Tis a sort of thing I should do, too; and then we should see one another, and that would be charming; but it is a sort of thing I have no mind to do; and then we shall not see one another, unless you would come hither-but that you cannot do:  nay, I would not have you, for then I shall be gone.  So! there are many @ that just signify nothing at all.  Return I must sooner than I shall like.  I am happy here to a degree.  I’ll tell you my situation.  I am lodged with Mr. Mann, (198) the best of creatures.  I have a terreno all to myself, with an open gallery on the Arno, where I am now writing to you.  Over against me is the famous Gallery; and, on either hand, two fair bridges.  Is not