FLORENTINE VILLAS 
ten miles from Florence. It is not easy to reach, for 
so long is it since any one has lived in the melancholy 
villino of Villa Campi that even in the streets of Lastra, 
the little walled town by the Arno, a guide is hard to 
find. But at last one is told to follow a steep country 
road among vines and olives, past two or three charm- 
ing houses buried in ilex-groves, till the way ends in a 
lane which leads up to a gateway surmounted by statues. 
Ascending thence by a long avenue of cypresses, one 
reaches the level hilltop on which the house should have 
stood. Two pavilions connected by a high wall face 
the broad open terrace, whence there is a far-spreading 
view over the Arno valley: doubtless the main building 
was to have been placed between them. But now the 
place lies enveloped in a mysterious silence. The foot 
falls noiselessly on the grass carpeting of the alleys, the 
water is hushed in pools and fountains, and broken 
statues peer out startlingly from their niches of unclipped 
foliage. From the open space in front of the pavilions, 
long avenues radiate, descending and encircling the 
hillside, walled with cypress and ilex, and leading to 
rond-points set with groups of statuary, and to balus- 
traded terraces overhanging the valley. The plan is 
vast and complicated, and appears to have embraced the 
whole hillside, which, contrary to the usual frugal Tuscan 
plan, was to have been converted into a formal park with 
vistas, quincunxes and fountains. 
Entering a gate in the wall between the pavilions, 
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