Aforesaid _chanoine_, Celari, is the master academician of Etruscan antiquities; he himself is the rarest and greatest curiosity in the collection. In person he resembled Gil Perez,[53] but was inferior in _charms_. His dress was characteristic of the oddity of the wearer; a triangular hat squatted as flat upon his head as a Prussian soldier’s and about as greasy and rusty, under which a cotton night-cap vied in colour with it, jointly setting off the features of a jaundiced, paralytic visage; his head tottering from disease and imbecility. The rest of his person in unison with his upper story; a dropsical paunch gave him an uncouth waddle, his scabby hands disgusting from their leprous indication. A more disgusting assemblage I never met with before in a single object. He showed nothing remarkable but a bronze vase found in a sepulchre, a curious bas-relief round the rim. When I escaped from his clutches, I went to a very learned and civil advocate who has many chosen antiquities. A pretty Cupid in terra cotta, a shield embossed with figures, elephants’ tusks found at Trasimene probably Carthaginian, a medal of Porsena, etc., etc. We were too late to see anything in the cathedral. I believe Pietro di Cortona was disgusted with his native city, and preferred painting for Roman palaces. Very late when we set off in the morn. Road rough and uncomfortable. We arrived at Arezzo at 12. I was in an agony for two hours and half after my arrival, as my children did not come. I fancied every terrible accident in the catalogue of travelling disasters, and had got into a post _calèche_, _alone_, to set off and meet them, when, God be praised, just as I was getting out of the town I met their carriage and found them safe and well. We could only reach St. Giovanni at night, June 19th; a most wretched inn, one scarcely ever frequented but by pedestrians with their wallets slung across their shoulders. The country to Florence through the famous Val d’Arno very charming. Reached that beautiful tho’ gloomy town on the 20th. The Tuscan heavy, massy, grand style of architecture spreads a solemnity over the buildings, and the streets are not so filled as those of Naples and Rome. I went in the eve. with Ly. E. Foster and Ly. Hervey to the Opera. David[54] sang.