Two large equestrian statues of bronze form the ornaments of the square before this church.  Quitting this square, we emerge into the two finest and most frequented streets in the town, namely, the Chiaga and Toledo.  Not far off is the imposing theatre of St. Carlo, said to be not only the largest in Italy, but in all Europe.  Its exterior aspect is very splendid.  A large and broad entrance extends in front, with pillars, beneath the shelter of which the carriages drive up, so that the spectators can arrive and depart without the chance of getting wet.  This evening there was to be a “particularly grand performance.”  I entered the theatre, and was much struck with its appearance.  It contains six tiers, all parcelled off into boxes, of which I counted four-and-twenty on the grand circle.  Each box is almost the size of a small room, and can easily accommodate from twelve to fifteen people.  A fairy-like spectacle is said to be produced when, on occasions of peculiar festivity, the whole exterior is lighted up.  Here, as in nearly all the Italian theatres, a clock, shewing not only the hours but the minutes, is fixed over the front of the stage.  A “particular performance” commences at six o’clock, and usually terminates an hour or two before midnight.  This evening I saw a little ballet, then two acts of an opera, and afterwards a comedy, the whole concluding with a grand ballet.  It is usual on benefit-nights to give a great variety of entertainments in order to attract the public; on these occasions the prices are also reduced one-fifth.

The greatest square, Largo del Castello, almost adjoins the theatre; it is of an oblong form, and contains many palace-like buildings, including the finance and police offices.  A pretty spring, the water of which falls down some rocks and forms a cascade, is also worthy of mention.

A little to the left we come upon the Medina-square, boasting the finest fountain in Naples.  Between these two squares, beside the sea-shore, lies Castel Nuovo, said to be built quite in the form of the Bastille.  It is strongly fortified, and serves as a defence for the harbour.  This is a very lively neighbourhood.  Many an hour’s amusement have I had, watching the motley crowd, particularly on Sundays and holydays, when it is frequented by improvisators, singers, musicians, and mountebanks of every description.

Not far from the harbour is a long street in which numerous kitchens and many provision-stalls are established.  Here I walked in the evenings to see the people assembled round the macaroni-pots:  it is advisable, however, to leave watch and purse at home, and even one’s pocket-handkerchief is not safe.