At Settimo we saw a beautiful girl, with the true Grecian line of feature, long oval cheek, dark pale skin (fine and smooth as marble or ivory), curled red lips, with long cut black eyes and straight eyebrows; her profile was not unlike that of Mrs. E., so celebrated in her day for regularity of outline.
Between Settimo and Chivasco we passed over a curious bridge, formed of planks, thrown across four boats, which were fixed immoveably in the river, by strong cords fastened to posts. The shape of these boats, and also of many we observed upon the Po, resembled that of an Indian canoe. The turnpike was a little thatched hut, erected upon the middle of this bridge. Refusing to comply with the importunities of an old Italian beggar woman here, she poured forth a volume of various maledictions upon us; being not at all inferior in this sort of eloquence to the amazons of our St. Giles's or Billingsgate.
The money (gold coins, I mean) of Italy are of very pure metal, without alloy; you may (as a proof of it) bend them into any shape with the fingers.
An accident happened to us near Rondizzone, which was rather alarming, but happily passed over without any serious consequences. The bridle of the centre horse breaking, we were violently run away with by the hot-headed animals; nor could the postillion stop them by any effort. This was rendered more distressing by the circumstance of our going down a steep hill at the moment. We called out repeatedly, and waved our hands for assistance to one or two peasants who were passing, making signs for them to catch the bridle, if possible; but they seemed to turn a deaf ear to our entreaties, never offering to make the smallest attempt to relieve us. By the time we reached the bottom of the hill, however, which was fortunately a long one, the creatures felt tired, and stopped of themselves.
At Cigliano we took a _dejeuné_ at _L'Albergo Reale_, and while it was preparing, stood in the open gallery on the outside of the house, gathering from a vine, which overshadowed it, the most delicious Frontigniac grapes that I ever remember to have tasted: indeed their flavour was exquisite, but the people did not appear to think them of any particular value, leaving them freely to the attacks of every traveller. Here we first drank the _vino d'Asti_, a light wine of the country, which we thought extremely pleasant, tasting like the best sweet cyder. I formerly thought that the flies of this country would probably be much of the same sort as those in England; but they turned out far more impertinently troublesome, inflicting their tiny torments without mercy, being equally obnoxious to man and beast; a true impudent, blood-sucking race! This reminds me, that under the head of _vermin_, I ought to have recorded a disagreeable surprise felt by Mr. B. at the Opera at Turin: feeling something tickle his forehead, he put up his hand, and caught hold of a monstrous black spider, at least four inches in circumference. The people at the hotel, to whom we related the circumstance, said it was rather an uncommon thing, but which sometimes occurred. The country, since we turned our backs upon Turin, was monotonous, and only relieved by the chain of Alps in the distance.