I made no reply, allowing Jacopo the run of his tongue to relieve his feelings, and we went on slowly until we reached the gate. Here I spoke, "As you know Rome better than I do, Jacopo, you had best lead the way; but I want to pass by the two houses of my family before we make for the Strangers' Quarters, where we must find a lodging for the night." "Very well, your worship!" and Jacopo drew a little to the front. "There they go," he said, shading his eyes with his hands, and turning to the left, where a dun cloud of dust on the Via della Marmorata marked the progress of the Borgia. "The best way, signore," he continued, "is over the hill; we will get a view from there, and then passing by the places you want to see, make for a quiet hostel I know of in the Strangers' Quarters." Following him, we rode up the Aventine, until we reached the old wall of Servius Tullius, here we stopped to observe the view. To the west and south-west we could see the green of the Campagna merging into the distant grey of the Roman Maremma, whilst beyond that a clear blue line, below the flush of the coming sunset, marked the sea. Beneath us lay the Tiber and the Island, the yellow water of the river stirred into ripples by the breeze, and looking from the distance like hammered brass. Beyond the Tiber rose Monte Gianicolo, behind which the top of the Vatican Hill was just visible. To the north the view was a little shut in by the Palatine and the church of St. Prisca above us, and far off rose the cone of Soratte. North-east and east lay the Palatine, the Esquiline, with the campaniles of Santa Maria Maggiore and San Pietro in Vincoli. Over Monte Coelio we could see the heights of the Sabine Hills, and running our eyes along the Appian Way, we could almost descry the Alban Lake, the mountains being distinctly visible. We stayed for a few moments drinking in the view, and then going onwards, turned north-west, past St. Prisca, and began the descent, by a winding way, held in by vineyards. Coming down we caught a glimpse of the three churches of the Aventine, namely S. Sabina, S. Maria Aventina, and St. Alessio, which was held by the monastery of St. Jerome, whose walls rose hard at hand. A look to the right showed us the Circus Maximus, above which towered a huge obelisk surrounded by four lions. At length we came to the Vicola di San Sabina, and at the corner of the street rose the grey walls and square tower of the castle of the Savelli. I drew rein, and looked at it with a bitter heart, and a sigh I could not control escaped me, as I saw the breeze catch and spread to the wind the silken folds of the standard of the Chigi, who bore quartered on their shield the star of the Savelli and the tree of De la Rovere. It flaunted there, in all the insolent pomp of a new house, whose moneybags were full, and the sight of it was enough for me. Jacopo must have caught the look on my face, for he said kindly-- "Who knows, excellency--luck may turn."