Milanese, Bolognese, and Venetian, “_Se vol vder nteck chais_,” said a boy to me, who wanted to obtain a little money by shewing me the Baptistery, to which I certainly did not want his guidance. You are to pronounce the letters as if you were reading English. The police officer who took my passport at the gate was startled at its length, “_tutt quest passport_,” and to save himself the labour of reading it, requested to know if I were “_posdent o ngoziant_,” and when I had satisfied him on that point, begged for something to buy “_npocdpan_.” From Parma I proceeded to Mantua. In this part of Italy the vines are frequently supported on elms, but the elms are small, and universally pollards. The Indian corn was just showing its silky filaments, but all the sorts of grain you have in England were cleared away. We crossed the Po by a ferry; the water was muddy, as I believe it always is; the banks are a sandy loam, and the water is continually eating away the earth on one side, and depositing its silt on the other. These changes of its bed are said to be productive of frequent litigations. I cannot say much for the pleasantness of the road, which lay entirely on a dead flat, but in a fertile and highly cultivated country. Mantua is situated very low, and in the midst of the waters, and the fortifications have none of that show, which one is apt to expect from their military reputation: but I believe this lowness, and want of appearance, is one source of its strength. I observed on the road, parties of women winding silk out of a large cauldron, where the water was kept nearly boiling by a fire underneath it.