The sun rose and the vapour lifted. Then, indeed, I
peered through the thick air - but still I could see nothing of my
goal, only confused folds of brown earth and burnt-up grasses, and
farther off rare and un-northern trees.
I passed an old tower of the Middle Ages that was eaten away at its
base by time or the quarrying of men; I passed a divergent way on the
right where a wooden sign said 'The Triumphal Way', and I wondered
whether it could be the road where ritual had once ordained that
triumphs should go. It seemed lonely and lost, and divorced from any
approach to sacred hills.
The road fell into a hollow where soldiers were manoeuvring. Even
these could not arrest an attention that was fixed upon the
approaching revelation. The road climbed a little slope where a branch
went off to the left, and where there was a house and an arbour under
vines. It was now warm day; trees of great height stood shading the
sun; the place had taken on an appearance of wealth and care. The mist
had gone before I reached the summit of the rise.
There, from the summit, between the high villa walls on either
side - at my very feet I saw the City.
