Viterbo, (rumble of distant cheers), and even maps of the place seem unobtainable. The increasing animation of the streets leads one, however, past one scorching little piazza into another, until one strikes the heart of Viterbo, where, Dieu merci, there is a beer terrace screened from the sun. Even though this Italian brew had all the savor of a glass of Vichy, it proved extremely welcome.
Suddenly you encounter the Piazza Comunale, a dazzling square bordered with classic palaces whose surfaces are caressed by long noon-day shadows from overhanging cornices. Rich coats of arms of the patrician families of Viterbo garnish the palace walls. Quasi-Venetian columns supporting sleek lionesses decorate odd corners of the enclosure. There is an ornate tomb embellishing one facade. It is supported by consoles in such a fashion that it strangely resembles a vast Baroque fireplace. Curiously enough, in this square where a fountain would serve as a monumental climax, there is none. Fiacres with dozing nags and entreating coachmen fill the shady side of the plot. One notes, with no small pleasure, that automobiles are five times as rare as donkeys or push carts.
Peering over the square, like a lean and inquisitive giraffe, is a grotesquely thin clock tower of
brick, almost as slender as a factory chimney. A bronze bell hangs at its summit, dangling from a cagework of iron brackets. It is the last intact reminder of the days when Viterbo bristled with more fortified towers than San Gimignano.
Enter the arcaded Palazzo Comunale and you have framed for you that celebrated vista of the balustraded fountain on the edge of the ravine, silhouetted in sunlight against an animated background of umbrella pines and watchtowers, of whitewashed houses and the calm, majestic lines of the church of San Agostino. No picture book of Italy would be complete without it. The palazzo is buzzing with animated citizens trying to get papers signed, with bashful couples announcing nuptial intentions or presenting a new bambino for registration. Exquisite fragments of detail plaster the walls of the inner court, veiled by the delicate branches of budding shrubs. The central member of this fountain group is not without fantasy. Two sportive and distended dolphins support the central shaft, while the climax is provided by two baby lions on their hind legs who are endeavoring to shake coconuts from a miniature bronze palm tree. The niches on either flank, one of which is
FOUNTAIN IN THE LOGGIA PAPALE, VITERBO
Suddenly you encounter the Piazza Comunale, a dazzling square bordered with classic palaces whose surfaces are caressed by long noon-day shadows from overhanging cornices. Rich coats of arms of the patrician families of Viterbo garnish the palace walls. Quasi-Venetian columns supporting sleek lionesses decorate odd corners of the enclosure. There is an ornate tomb embellishing one facade. It is supported by consoles in such a fashion that it strangely resembles a vast Baroque fireplace. Curiously enough, in this square where a fountain would serve as a monumental climax, there is none. Fiacres with dozing nags and entreating coachmen fill the shady side of the plot. One notes, with no small pleasure, that automobiles are five times as rare as donkeys or push carts.
Peering over the square, like a lean and inquisitive giraffe, is a grotesquely thin clock tower of
brick, almost as slender as a factory chimney. A bronze bell hangs at its summit, dangling from a cagework of iron brackets. It is the last intact reminder of the days when Viterbo bristled with more fortified towers than San Gimignano.
Enter the arcaded Palazzo Comunale and you have framed for you that celebrated vista of the balustraded fountain on the edge of the ravine, silhouetted in sunlight against an animated background of umbrella pines and watchtowers, of whitewashed houses and the calm, majestic lines of the church of San Agostino. No picture book of Italy would be complete without it. The palazzo is buzzing with animated citizens trying to get papers signed, with bashful couples announcing nuptial intentions or presenting a new bambino for registration. Exquisite fragments of detail plaster the walls of the inner court, veiled by the delicate branches of budding shrubs. The central member of this fountain group is not without fantasy. Two sportive and distended dolphins support the central shaft, while the climax is provided by two baby lions on their hind legs who are endeavoring to shake coconuts from a miniature bronze palm tree. The niches on either flank, one of which is
FOUNTAIN IN THE LOGGIA PAPALE, VITERBO