its merits.

CHAPTER XVII

Two Monasteries and a Procession

The Certosa--A Company of Uncles--The
Cells--Machiavelli--Impruneta--The
della Robbias--Pontassieve--Pelago--Milton's
simile--Vallombrosa--S. Gualberto--Prato and the Lippis--The Grassina
Albergo--An American invasion--The Procession of the Dead Christ--My
loss.

Everyone who merely visits Florence holds it a duty to bring home at
least one flask of the Val d'Ema liqueur from the Carthusian monastery
four or five miles distant from the city, not because that fiery
distillation is peculiarly attractive but because the vessels which
contain it are at once pretty decorations and evidences of travel and
culture. They can be bought in Florence itself, it is true (at a shop
at the corner of the Via de' Cerretani, close to the Baptistery),
but the Certosa is far too interesting to miss, if one has time to
spare from the city's own treasures. The trams start from the Mercato
Nuovo and come along the Via dell' Arcivescovado to the Baptistery,
and so to the Porta Romana and out into the hilly country. The ride
is dull and rather tiresome, for there is much waiting at sidings,
but the expedition becomes attractive immediately the tram is
left. There is then a short walk, principally up the long narrow
approach to the monastery gates, outside which, when I was there,
was sitting a beggar at a stone table, waiting for the bowl of soup
to which all who ask are entitled.

Passing within the courtyard you ring the bell on the right and enter
the waiting hall, from which, in the course of time, when a sufficient
party has been gathered, an elderly monk in a white robe leads you
away. How many monks there may be, I cannot say; but of the few of whom
I caught a glimpse, all were alike in the possession of white beards,
and all suggested uncles in fancy dress. Ours spoke good French and
was clearly a man of parts. Lulled by his soothing descriptions I
passed in a kind of dream through this ancient abode of peace.

The Certosa dates from 1341 and was built and endowed by a wealthy
merchant named Niccolo Acciaioli, after whom the Lungarno Acciaioli
is named. The members of the family are still buried here, certain
of the tombstones bearing dates of the present century. To-day it is
little but a show place, the cells of the monks being mostly empty and
the sale of the liqueur its principal reason for existence. But the
monks who are left take a pride in their church, wh