It is very much of a ceremony to see the iron crown. After having visited the cathedral thoroughly we were conducted down some steps to the little chapel which contains the crown. The priest is obliged to put on the robes of high mass, and is assisted by another priest and a boy who swings the censer all the time. The _cappellano_ collected the money (twenty lire) from our party before the proceedings. (It is always well to be on the safe side.) The money question settled, the priest read some prayers, knelt many times, then ascended a little step-ladder, opened a gilded cupboard which was fastened to the wall, unlocked it, said some more prayers, and then with great reverence took out a casket, which he held high above his head, intoning a special prayer. He came down from the step-ladder, bringing the casket with him, which he opened, and we were allowed to look at, but not touch, the celebrated relic. The same ceremony was gone through when it was replaced. Do you know that this crown was born in the year 593, and is made out of a nail supposed to be taken from Christ's cross and hammered into a ring, and is encircled by a gold band about eight centimeters wide? Outside the iron is a gold band set with _soi-disant_ precious stones. Not much to look at, and certainly not heavy to wear. While we were there Signor Bonghi, at the request of the Queen, copied a Latin inscription on a tomb. He translated it from the Latin and gave it to the Queen when he returned, also to me. (I inclose it.) INSCRIPTION ON A TOMB IN MONZA CATHEDRAL _Quod fuit, est; erit peril articulo brevis horae Ergo quid prodest esse fuisse fore Esse fuisse fore trio florida sunt sine flore Cum simul omne peril quod fuit est erit._ That which is, that which has been, that which shall be Perishes in one short hour. To what use is it to exist, to have existed, Or to exist in time to come? The Present, the Past, the Future Are three flowers without perfume, Since all perish together, The Present, the Past, the Future. Princess Pia di Savoya, Princess Trivulzio, Count Greppi, and others were invited to tea. After they had gone the Queen had a fancy to run out in the park without a hat, in spite of the cold and drizzly rain, and with only a light cloak. She did not mind, so no one else minded. Of course, we all did as she did, except Princess Palavicini (_dame d'honneur_), who had just arrived, and who asked permission that she might retire to her room in order to rest before dinner. MONZA, _November 7th_. Dear Mother,--I try every day to get a moment to write, as you desire, but the days go so quickly and the evenings come so soon that I hardly have time to do anything but change from one dress to the other.