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On the north side of Florence all that remains of the walls are the gates, which have been left standing in forlorn isolation. On the south side, however, parts still remain -- at the Porta San Niccolo, at the Porta San Giorgio, and at the Porta Romana. The Porta Romana is, perhaps, the most interesting of all the city gates. It may be called a centre of that characteristic life connected with the "Dazio Consumo," established within the massive doors, above which a half-effaced fresco of the Madonna and Child, with Saints, makes a far-away patch of tender colour in a framework of warm red-brown. It is pleasant to linger for a few minutes and watch the shifting, vivid scene, full of life, colour, and character. A long, low-hung wine-cart packed tightly with straw-hued flasks of classic shape -- the mules that draw it gay with coloured harness trappings, and little bells jingling above their headstalls -- has paid its dues and goes its way. It is closely followed by another cart, stacked so high with brown faggots that it appears almost a miracle that the whole should preserve its balance; and the little horse is lost beneath the load. A crowd of smaller carts, driven by peasants and drawn by horses or donkeys, with a sprinkling of hand-carts, blocks the gateway; and the officials walk about among them armed with long, thin iron rods, with which they mercilessly prod bundles and packages and all else that the carts and handbarrows contain. Just outside the Porta Romana is a very favourite lounging-place with the people -- a large open space usually covered by groups of idlers, all apparently waiting for some one or something. Many country carts are drawn up here; also little Tuscan diligences built like waggonettes enclosed with brown leather curtains. The little lean horses that draw them stand patiently enough, waiting the hour for the return journey to the out-lying village they left in the early morning. It is probably about sunset when the passengers landed at the Porta Romana in the morning turn up and climb into their places, and the diligence starts off again with much jangling of bells and cracking of whips. Looking back on the gate from the outside, one sees the remains of the old walls stretching away to right and left. Leading from them up the hill of Arcetri are two roads -- the modern Viale dei Colli and (dating from the later Medici times) the fine broad Cypress Avenue known as Poggio Imperiale. In the days of the Grandduke Cosimo II. there was a much-venerated convent in this neighbourbood called Montecelli, which was a favourite retreat of the Grand-duchess Marie Maddelena of Austria. To reach this convent more conveniently and quickly, she had this road made, and adorned it with marble statues, fountains, and grottoes, in the delightful style of those early days. Now only two of the Grand-duchess's fountains remain, and the four dilapidated statues of poets standing forlorn at the foot of the avenue were removed to their present position from the second façade of the Cathedral, and have, therefore, nothing to do with the original plan of the avenue. Much of the old-world charm of Poggio Imperiale has disappeared with the appearance of a row of brand - new little villas, and the construction of the tram-line, by which the hissing train conveys the world to Galuzzo and the Certosa of Val d'Ema. At the top of the hill, standing back from the avenue, is the Medicean villa, now known as the Institution of the S.S. Annunziata -- as it has become of recent years a school for the daughters of noble families. It is a building which, like so many other villas near Florence, has a history. Many centuries ago a great family, Baroncelli by name, possessed the whole of Arcetri hill, and built on it a fortified castle, which in more peaceable times they transformed into a villa. In 1447 the Baroncelli became extinct, and the villa and property passed through many hands until, in 1548, it came into the possession of Piero Salviati. This nobleman was unfortunate. He got into some trouble with the Grand-duke, which resulted in his being declared a rebel and a traitor, and all his goods were confiscated. His villa at Arcetri was appropriated by the Grand-duke Cosimo I., and given by him to his daughter Isabella as her dowry when she married Orsini, Duke of Bracciano. Duchess Isabella came to a violent end; for, having roused her husband's jealousy, with the swift justice of those lawless days, he murdered her in his villa of Carreto Guidi. This bloody deed, terrible to relate, does not seem to have aroused any anger or horror in the mind of the murdered woman's father, for we read that he conferred her dowry on her assassin and his descendants. Still later, in 1763, Poggio Imperiale reverted to the Grand-dukes of Tuscany, at the time when the Powers decided to reconstruct the grand-duchy by giving it to Francis II., Emperor of Austria. The Emperor sent his second son, the Arch-duke Leopold, to reside in Florence as his representative and heir -- the future "Great Duke" (as Sir Horace Mann calls him) -- and he and his successors inhabited the Pitti Palace when in Florence, moving to the villa of Poggio Imperiale in summer. Sir Horace Mann, writing in 1766 to Sir Horace Walpole, describes to this life-long friend how on midsummer day of that year the Grand-duke Leopold went in procession from the "Poggio" to the city gate, and thence to the Pitti Palace, for the ceremony known as "the receiving the homage." Again, the Minister describes how he took "the youngest Prince Meeklenburg," Queen Charlotte's brother, "to dine at the Poggio, which, they say, is more than dining with them (the Grand-duke and Duchess) in town"; and afterwards "we were admitted to drink coffee with them debout, which, it seems, is infinitely a greater honour than sitting with them at dinner." The little grand-ducal court was ruled with the iron rule of Austrian etiquette, and does not appear to have been particularly gay, save at carnival time, when the Grand-duke and his wife unbent and deigned to amuse themselves at the play and the masked balls. When Italy became a kingdom the old villa of the Medici and the Hapsburgh-Lorraines became the property of the King, Victor Emanuel, and shortly after that event the present school was established there. Poggio Imperiale stands back from the wide cypress-bordered road; and in front of the villa gates is a broad grassy space, said by tradition to be the scene of a celebrated double duel which took place during the siege of Florence, the cause being the rivalry between Ludovico Martelli and Giovanni Bandini for the hand of the beautiful Marietta de Ricci. The story has often been told -- how the besieging Imperialists and the besieged Florentines suspended hostilities while four fiery youths fought to the death on the heights of Poggio Imperiale. That they were four was owing to a custom of the time, by which the two principals were allowed to choose each a man on his side to assist him in fighting out his quarrel, and this combat assumed a political aspect, from the fact that Bandini was fighting for the Medici in the Imperialist camp, and Martelli was with the Florentines. Martelli's challenge had been accepted on Bandini's side by a young Aldobrandini, who fought and was killed by Martelli's champion, the famous Dante da Castiglione; but this advantage was quickly undone by Martelli's death at the hand of Bandini. Thus neither side could claim a complete victory. Poor Marietta, the cause of all the trouble, was doubtless weeping and praying in her chamber while the young men fought. What her fate was is uncertain. We do not know whether, after all, she married the man of her choice, or in despair retired to a convent. A winding road leads up the Aroetri Hill from Poggio Imperiale, revealing at every turn a yet more entrancing view of Florence far below. The steep path runs between fertile fields clad in rich spring greens. Across the low stone walls one catches glimpses of brilliant borders and patches of the pale mauve iris, "the Florence Lily," standing in loveliest proximity to the emerald green of the young corn shoots, which by and by will embrace the olive trees so closely that the twisted trunks will almost disappear among the tall, slender blades. Now the graceful branches bend tenderly over the vines and the green corn, spreading above them like a delicate, shadowy veil; while, over all, the canopy of the blue sky stretches away towards Fiesole on the horizon. Cream -- coloured walls, red -- brown roofs, graceful towers and cupolas, lead, in wonderful harmony, the eye down to where Arno cleaves the valley and flows eternally past the beautiful city, and the fresh green of the tall poplar trees, to Pisa and the sea. The hill continues to mount, and Florence disappears between the high walls of old villa gardens, about whose gates the banksias twine their foamy blossoms of yellow and white, the long rose shoots mingling with the graceful clusters of lilac wistaria, while the judas trees lift stiff purple arms to heaven. Higher still, the piazza called "Pian di Guillari" is reached, the name conjuring up delightful pictures of the summer days of long ago. Then lovely Florentine ladies and gallant youths, whose faces gaze at us to-day from many an unknown portrait in all the bravery of silks and velvets, dwelt in these fine old villas. One may read how those old-time Florentines whiled away the sunny hours with a hundred charming diversions, having, for example, a welcome always ready for certain well-known bands of strolling minstrels and buffoons, called "Guilladri," who amused them, as they rested in the shade of the ilex bosquets, with the latest song and witty tale, or with clever clownish tricks. The Piazza takes its name from these wandering folk; but there is yet another and world-famous association with the summit of Arcetri Hill. Standing a little way to the right as the road goes down to Florence is the "Torre del Gallo," the Tower of Galileo, where the great astronomer retired to end his life in peace, watching the stars burning through the southern night. Away to the right the road brings one to the very ancient church of Sta. Margherita in Montici, the point on which it stands dividing the valley of the Arno from the valley of the Ema. There is a lawless, cruel story in which the belfry of Sta. Margherita played a part. It tells how a feud broke out between two families of Florence -the Gherardini, patrons of the church, and the family of Da Panzano. Two young Gherardini, Piero and Carlo, lay in wait one night and assassinated Antonio da Panzano. This crime brought the quarrel between the families to a crisis, and led the Signory of Florence to interfere to prevent more bloodshed. Whatever settlement they made evidently permitted the Gherardini to go free and did not satisfy their foes. Some time after one of the Da Panzanos, Luca by name, with his "bullies" (as the historian describes them), assaulted Carlo Gherardini in the church of Sta. Margherita. The young man fled for refuge to the belfry, from which, after a desperate resistance, he was dragged to expiate his sin with his life. The road from Sta. Margherita winds round and down the hill, until it reaches the "Piazzale of Michelangelo," where one can enjoy a magnificent panorama of Florence and the Val d'Arno, of Monte Morello and Fiesole, and the snowy range of Carrara fading away to the west.