s
a lira. Moreover, there is no re-admission. The charge strikes English
visitors, accustomed to the open portals of their own museums and
galleries, as an outrage, and it explains also the little interest in
their treasures which most Florentines display, for being essentially
a frugal people they have seldom seen them. Visitors who can satisfy
the authorities that they are desirous of studying the works of art
with a serious purpose can obtain free passes; but only after certain
preliminaries, which include a seance with a photographer to satisfy
the doorkeeper, by comparing the real and counterfeit physiognomies,
that no illicit transference of the precious privilege has been
made. Italy is, one knows, not a rich country; but the revenue which
the gallery entrance-fees represent cannot reach any great volume,
and such as it is it had much better, I should say, be raised by
other means. Meanwhile, the foreigner chiefly pays it. What Giovanni
de' Medici and Lorenzo de' Medici, and--even more--what Anna Maria
Ludovica de' Medici, who bequeathed to the State these possessions,
would think could they see this feverish and implacable pursuit of
pence, I have not imagination, or scorn, enough to set down.

Infirm and languid visitors should get it clearly into their heads (1)
that the tour of the Uffizi means a long walk and (2) that there is
a lift. You find it in the umbrella room--at every Florentine gallery
and museum is an official whose one object in life is to take away your
umbrella--and it costs twopence-halfpenny and is worth far more. But
walking downstairs is imperative, because otherwise one would miss
Silenus and Bacchus, and a beautiful urgent Mars, in bronze, together
with other fine sculptured things.

One of the quaintest symbols of conservatism in Florence is the
scissors of the officials who supply tickets of entrance. Apparently
the perforated line is unknown in Italy; hence the ticket is divided
from its counterfoil (which I assume goes to the authorities in
order that they may check their horrid takings) by a huge pair
of shears. These things are snip-snapping all over Italy, all day
long. Having obtained your ticket you hand it to another official at a
turn-stile, and at last you are free of cupidity and red tape and may
breathe easily again and examine the products of the light-hearted,
generous Renaissance in the right spirit.

One should never forget, in any gallery of Florence, to look out
of