CHAPTER V.
And now, accompanying this mysterious Zanoni, am I compelled to bid a short farewell to Naples. Mount behind me — mount on my hippogriff, reader; settle yourself at your ease. I bought the pillion the other day of a poet who loves his comfort; it has been newly stuffed for your special accommodation. So, so, we ascend! Look as we ride aloft — look ! — never fear, hippogriffs never stumble; and every hippogriff in Italy is warranted to carry elderly gentlemen — look down on the gliding landscapes ! There, near the ruins of the Oscan's old Atella, rises Aversa, once the stronghold of the Norman; there gleam the columns of Capua, above the Vulturnian Stream. Hail to ye, cornfields and vineyards famous for the old Falernian! Hail to ye, golden orange-groves of Mola di Gaeta! — Hail to ye, sweet shrubs and wild flowers, omnis copia narium, that clothe the mountain-skirts of the silent Lautulæ! Shall we rest at the Volscian Anxur — the modern Terracina — where the lofty rock stands like the
- ↑ That hippogriff, great and marvellous bird, bears him away.
