From Pitigliano and its interesting neighbourhood I proceeded to Bolsena, entering the Papal State at Ornano, a wretched village seven or eight miles from Sorano. Passport and baggage in this case proved no impedimenta; in truth, save at Civita Vecchia, the grand portal to Rome, I have never experienced any inconvenience on entering the State, and have found the doganieri uniformly civil, often courteous, and in no way forward to exert their authority It were ungracious to attribute their forbearance to the venality of which they are accused.

From Ornano a road runs to Acquapendente, on the highway from Florence to Rome. This has been supposed to be the Acula of Ptolemy, and the colony of the Aquenses mentioned by Pliny—an opinion founded merely on the similarity of its name, which is evidently derived from the physical peculiarities of the site. Acquapendente appears to be wholly of the middle ages—no traces of the Romans, still less of the Etruscans, could I perceive on this spot.

At Ornano I chose the more direct route to Bolsena, which I had soon cause to repent, for here, as usual, the proverb was verified—

The lanes through which it lay were so many beds of stiff clay, saturated with the recent rains, so that the beasts sank knee-deep at every step, and sometimes threatened to become as permanently stationary as “my uncle Toby's Hobby-horse.”