After two days here, waiting for Despatches from his Eminence, which came at last in the False Bottom of a Jar of Narbonne Honey, and I answering by a Billet discreetly buried in the recesses of a large Bologna Sausage, I posted to Milan, through a fertile and delicious country, which some call the Garden of Italy. A broad, clean place, with spacious Streets; but the Wine and Maccaroni not half so good as at Genoa. The Cathedral full of Relics, some of which run up as high as Abraham. In the Ambrosian Library are a power of Books, and, what is more curious, the Dried _Heads_ of several Learned Men--amongst others, that of our Bishop Fisher, whom King Harry the Eighth put to death for not acknowledging his Supremacy. About two miles from hence is a Curiosity, in the shape of a Building, where, if you fire off a Pistol; the Sound returns about Fifty times. 'Tis done, they told me, by two Parallel Walls of a considerable length, which reverberate the Sound to each other till the undulation is quite spent. The which, being so informed, I was as wise concerning the Echo as I had been before. It was my Design to have proceeded from Milan either to Venice or to the famous Capital City of Rome; but Instructions from his Eminence forced me to retrace my steps, and at Genoa I embarked for Naples. This is a very handsome place, but villanously Dirty, and governed in a most Despotic Manner. Nearly all the Corn Country round about belongs to the Jesuits, who make a pretty Penny by it. The taxes very high, and laid on Wine, Meat, Oil, and other Necessaries of Life; indeed on every thing eatable except Fruit and Fowls, which you may buy for a Song. All Foreigners who have here purchased Estates are loaded with Extraordinary Taxes and Impositions. The City is remarkable for its Silk Stockings, Waistcoats, Breeches, and Caps; Soap, Perfume, and Snuff-boxes. They cool their Wine with Snow, which they get out of pits dug in the Mountain-sides. Near here, too, is a Burning Mountain they call Vesuvio. It may be mighty curious, but 'tis as great a Nuisance and Perpetual Alarm to the peaceable Inhabitants of Naples as a Powder Magazine. Very often this Vesuvio gives itself up to hideous Bellowing, causing the Windows, nay the very Houses, in Naples to Shake, and then it vomits forth vast Quantities of melted Stuff, which streams down the Mountain-sides like a pot boiling over. Sometimes it darkens the Sun with Smoke, causing a kind of Eclipse; then a Pillar of Black Smoke will start up to a prodigious Height in the air, and the next morning you will find the Court and Terrace of your House, be it ten miles away, all strewn with Fine Ashes from Vesuvio. CHAPTER THE SEVENTH. I FALL INTO THE HANDS OF RECREANT PAYNIMS, AND AM SEDUCED TO A STATE OF MISERABLE SLAVERY.