s well as down it. I should say the Po is here rather more than
half a mile wide.

Three hours later, we crossed in like manner at Rovigo the Adige, a much
smaller but still a large river, about the size of the Connecticut at
Hartford. It has its source exclusively in the Tyrolean Alps, but for
the last hundred miles of its course runs parallel with the Po, through
the same plain, at a medium distance of about twenty miles, and has the
same general characteristics. It was quite high and muddy when we
crossed it.

As midnight drew on, I grew weary of gazing at the same endless
diversity of grain-fields, vineyards, rows of trees, &c., though the
bright moon was now shining, and, shutting out the chill night-air, I
disposed myself on my old great-coat and softest carpet-bag for a
drowse, having ample room at my command if I could but have brought it
into a straight line. But the road was hard, the coach a little the
uneasiest I ever hardened my bones upon, and my slumber was of a
disturbed and dubious character, a dim sense of physical discomfort
shaping and coloring my incoherent and fitful visions. For a time I
fancied myself held down on my back while some malevolent wretch
drenched the floor (and me) with filthy water: then I was in a rude
scuffle and came out third or fourth best, with my clothes badly torn;
anon I had lost my hat in a strange place and could not begin to find
it; and at last my clothes were full of grasshoppers and spiders who
were beguiling their leisure by biting and stinging me. The misery at
last became unbearable and I awoke.--But where? I was plainly in a
tight, dark box, that needed more air: I soon recollected that it was a
stage-coach, wherein I had been making my way from Ferrara to Padua. I
threw open the door and looked out. Horses, postillions and guard were
all gone: the moon, the fields, the road were gone: I was in a close
court-yard, alone with Night and Silence: but where? A church clock
struck three; but it was only promised that we should reach Padua by
four, and I, making the usual discount on such promises, had set down
five as the probable hour of our arrival. I got out to take a more
deliberate survey, and the tall form and bright bayonet of an Austrian
sentinel, standing guard over the egress of the court-yard, were before
me. To talk German was beyond the sweep of my dizziest ambition, but an
Italian runner or porter instantly presented himself. From him I made
out that I