one of the spirits, looking out of the coach-window, declared we
were just arrived at a very large city; and indeed he had scarce
said so before we found ourselves in the suburbs, and, at the
same time, the coachman, being asked by another, informed us that
the name of this place was the City of Diseases. The road to it
was extremely smooth, and, excepting the above-mentioned savor,
delightfully pleasant. The streets of the suburbs were lined
with bagnios, taverns, and cooks' shops: in the first we saw
several beautiful women, but in tawdry dresses, looking out at
the windows; and in the latter were visibly exposed all kinds of
the richest dainties; but on our entering the city we found,
contrary to all we had seen in the other world, that the suburbs
were infinitely pleasanter than the city itself. It was indeed a
very dull, dark, and melancholy place. Few people appeared in
the streets, and these, for the most part, were old women, and
here and there a formal grave gentleman, who seemed
to be thinking, with large tie-wigs on, and amber-headed canes in
their hands. We were all in hopes that our vehicle would not
stop here; but, to our sorrow, the coach soon drove into an inn,
and we were obliged to alight.


CHAPTER III

The adventures we met with in the City of Diseases.

We had not been long arrived in our inn, where it seems we were
to spend the remainder of the day, before our host acquainted us
that it was customary for all spirits, in their passage through
that city, to pay their respects to that lady Disease, to whose