Then (along a road perfectly straight and bounded by factories, mean houses and distempered walls: a road littered with many scraps of paper, bones, dirt, and refuse) I went on for several hundred yards, having the old wall of Rome before me all this time, till I came right under it at last; and with the hesitation that befits all great actions I entered, putting the right foot first lest I should bring further misfortune upon that capital of all our fortunes. And so the journey ended. It was the Gate of the Poplar--not of the People. (Ho, Pedant! Did you think I missed you, hiding and lurking there?) Many churches were to hand; I took the most immediate, which stood just within the wall and was called Our Lady of the People--(not 'of the Poplar'. Another fall for the learned! Professor, things go ill with you to-day!). Inside were many fine pictures, not in the niminy-piminy manner, but strong, full-coloured, and just. To my chagrin, Mass was ending. I approached a priest and said to him: _'Pater, quando vel a quella hora e la prossimma Missa?'_ _'Ad nonas,'_ said he. _'Pol! Hercle!'_ (thought I), 'I have yet twenty minutes to wait! Well, as a pilgrimage cannot be said to be over till the first Mass is heard in Rome, I have twenty minutes to add to my book.' So, passing an Egyptian obelisk which the great Augustus had nobly dedicated to the Sun, I entered.... LECTOR. But do you intend to tell us nothing of Rome? AUCTOR. Nothing, dear Lector. LECTOR. Tell me at least one thing; did you see the Coliseum? AUCTOR.... I entered a cafe at the right hand of a very long, straight street, called for bread, coffee, and brandy, and contemplating my books and worshipping my staff that had been friends of mine so long, and friends like all true friends inanimate, I spent the few minutes remaining to my happy, common, unshriven, exterior, and natural life, in writing down this LOUD AND FINAL SONG DITHYRAMBIC EPITHALAMIUM OR THRENODY In these boots, and with this staff Two hundred leaguers and a half-- (That means, two and a half hundred leagues. You follow? Not two hundred and one half league.... Well--) Two hundred leaguers and a half Walked I, went I, paced I, tripped I, Marched I, held I, skelped I, slipped I, Pushed I, panted, swung and dashed I; Picked I, forded, swam and splashed I, Strolled I, climbed I, crawled and scrambled, Dropped and dipped I, ranged and rambled; Plodded I, hobbled I, trudged and tramped I, And in lonely spinnies camped I, And in haunted pinewoods slept I, Lingered, loitered, limped and crept I, Clambered, halted, stepped and leapt I; Slowly sauntered, roundly strode I,