In the duke’s dominions the people hold the French in such great affection that the awakening of any memory of our country will almost certainly bring tears to their eyes. It would seem that they prefer even war, with some form of freedom, to the peace they enjoy under their tyrant. M. de Montaigne inquired whether there were not certain French tombs in the town,[66] and was informed that these formerly were in the church of S. Agostino, but that by the command of the duke the remains had been buried in the earth. Our road lay through a mountainous, stony country for twenty-three miles, and in the evening we came to La Paille, a little village of five or six houses, at the foot of sterile and forbidding mountains. Early next morning we resumed our journey, traversing a deep and very stony valley, and passing and repassing a hundred times a torrent which flowed through the same. At the limit of the duke’s territory we came to a fine bridge, built by Pope Gregory,[67] and entered the States of the Church, coming first to Acquapendente, a small town which, as I believe, takes its name from a torrent hard by which falls from the rocks down on to the plain. Then we passed a _Castello_, called S. Lorenzo, and another, Bolsena, and turning round the Lake of Bolsena, which is thirty miles long, ten wide, and has in its midst islands on which they say are monasteries, we went in one bout of twenty-six miles over a rocky and barren road to Montefiascone, a little town placed on the summit of one of the highest mountains in the country. It is very small, but shows signs of great antiquity. We quitted it next morning, and crossed a fine fertile plain, in which is situated Viterbo, part of the town being built on the crest of a hill. This is a fine place, about the size of Senlis, in which we observed many handsome houses, numerous workmen, fair pleasant streets, and three very beautiful fountains in divers parts of the town. On account of the beauty of the place M. de Montaigne would fain have tarried there, but his baggage mule, which he sent in advance, had already passed onward. Here we began the ascent of the flank of a high mountain, and at the end of the descent on the farther side we came upon the little Lake of Vico. Then, having traversed a delightful valley, bordered by gentle hills rich in wood--a commodity very rare in these parts--and by the lake aforesaid, we found ourselves in good time at Rossiglione,[68] after riding nineteen miles.