And I rode away out of the town into the open country. The day was
breaking, and everything was cold and grey. I paid no heed to my course;
I rode along, taking the roads as they came, through broad plains,
eastwards towards the mountains. In the increasing day I saw the little
river wind sinuously through the fields, and the country stretched flat
before me, with slender trees marked out against the sky. Now and then a
tiny hill was surmounted by a village, and once, as I passed, I heard
the tinkling of a bell. I stopped at an inn to water the horse, and
then, hating the sight of men, I hurried on. The hours of coolness had
passed, and as we tramped along the shapeless roads the horse began to
sweat, and the thick white dust rose in clouds behind us.
At last I came to a roadside inn, and it was nearly mid-day. I
dismounted, and giving the horse to the ostler's care, I went inside and
sat at a table. The landlord came to me and offered food. I could not
eat, I felt it would make me sick; I ordered wine. It was brought; I
poured some out and tasted it. Then I put my elbows on the table and
held my head with both hands, for it was aching so as almost to drive me
mad.
'Sir!'
I looked up and saw a Franciscan friar standing by my side. On his back
he bore a sack; I supposed he was collecting food.
'Sir, I pray you for alms for the sick and needy.'