We then descended rapidly, sometimes plunging down the ashes on
our feet and sometimes gliding on our breech till we arrived at the place
where we had descended from our mules, and this distance, which required
one hour to ascend, cost us in its descent not more than seven minutes.
We then walked to the hermitage in about an hour and a quarter, and arrived
there with no other accident than having our shoes and stockings totally
spoiled, our feet a little singed, the hands of Mr. R.D. severely burned
and both begrimed with ashes like blacksmiths. The ecclesiastic gave us a
breakfast of coffee and eggs and a glass of Maraschino, and we gave him two
scudi each. Before we departed he presented to us his Album, which he
usually does to all travellers, inviting them to write something. I took up
the pen and feeling a little inspiration wrote the following lines:
Anch'io salito son sul gran Vesuvio,
Mentre cadsa di cineri un diluvio;
Questo cammin mi piace d'aver fatto,
Ma plu mi piace il ritornare intatto.
which pleased the old man very much to see a foreigner write Italian verse.
I pleased him still more by letting him know that I was an enthusiastic
admirer and humble cultivator of the Tuscan Muse, and that having read and
studied most of their poets, particularly il divino Ariosto, I now and
then caught a scintilletta from his verse.
