LITMIR.BIZ

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      "He heard it, but he heeded not—his eyes

       Were with his heart, and that was far away;

       He reck'd not of the life he lost, nor prize,

       But where his rude hut by the Danube lay

       There were his young barbarians all at play,

       There was their Dacian mother—he, their sire,

       Butchered to make a Roman holiday.

       All this rushed with his blood—shall he expire,

       And unavenged? Arise, ye Goths, and glut your ire!"

       Byron, Childe Harold.

      It is delightful to read in this room the description in Transformation:—

      "It was that room in the centre of which reclines the noble and most pathetic figure of the dying gladiator, just sinking into his death-swoon. Around the walls stand the Antinous, the Amazon, the Lycian Apollo, the Juno; all famous productions of antique sculpture, and still shining in the undiminished majesty and beauty of their ideal life, although the marble that embodies them is yellow with time, and perhaps corroded by the damp earth in which they lay buried for centuries. Here, likewise, is seen a symbol (as apt at this moment as it was two thousand years ago) of the Human Soul, with its choice of Innocence or Evil close at hand, in the pretty figure of a child, clasping a dove to her bosom, but assaulted by a snake.

      "From one of the windows of this saloon, we may see a broad flight of stone steps, descending alongside the antique and massive foundation of the Capitol, towards the battered triumphal arch of Septimius Severus, right below. Farther on, the eye skirts along the edge of the desolate Forum (where Roman washerwomen hang out their linen to the sun), passing over a shapeless confusion of modern edifices, piled rudely up with ancient brick and stone, and over the domes of Christian churches, built on the old pavements of heathen temples, and supported by the very pillars that once upheld them. At a distance beyond—yet but a little way, considering how much history is heaped into the intervening space—rises the great sweep of the Coliseum, with the blue sky brightening through its upper tier of arches. Far off, the view is shut in by the Alban mountains, looking just the same, amid all this decay and change, as when Romulus gazed thitherward over his half-finished wall.

      "In this chamber is the Faun of Praxiteles. It is the marble image of a young man, leaning his right arm on the trunk or stump of a tree: one hand hangs carelessly by his side, in the other he holds a fragment of a pipe, or some such sylvan instrument of music. His only garment, a lion's skin with the claws upon the shoulder, falls half-way down his back, leaving his limbs and entire front of the figure nude. The form, thus displayed, is marvellously graceful, but has a fuller and more rounded outline, more flesh, and less of heroic muscle, than the old sculptors were wont to assign to their types of masculine beauty. The character of the face corresponds with the figure; it is most agreeable in outline and feature, but rounded and somewhat voluptuously developed, especially about the throat and chin; the nose is almost straight, but very slightly curves inward, thereby acquiring an indescribable charm of geniality and humour. The mouth, with its full yet delicate lips, seems so really to smile outright, that it calls forth a responsive smile. The whole statue—unlike anything else that ever was wrought in the severe material of marble—conveys the idea of an amiable and sensual creature, easy, mirthful, apt for jollity, yet not incapable of being touched by pathos. It is impossible to gaze long at this stone image, without conceiving a kindly sentiment towards it, as if its substance were warm to the touch, and imbued with actual life. It comes very near to some of our pleasantest sympathies."—Hawthorne.

      "Praxitèle avait dit à Phryné de choisir entre ses ouvrages celui qu'elle aimerait le mieux. Pour savoir lequel de ses chefs-d'œuvre l'artiste préférait, elle lui fit annoncer que le feu avait pris à son atelier. 'Sauvez, s'écria-t-il, mon Satyre et mon Amour!'"—Ampère, Hist. Rom. iii. 309.

      The west or right side of the Capitoline Piazza is occupied by the Palace of the Conservators, which contains the Protomoteca, the Picture Gallery, and various other treasures.

      The little court at the entrance is full of historical relics, including remains of two gigantic statues of Apollo; a colossal head of Domitian; and the marble pedestal, which once in the mausoleum of Augustus supported the cinerary urn of Agrippina, wife of Germanicus, with a very perfect inscription. In the opposite loggia are a statue of Rome Triumphant, and a group of a lion attacking a horse, found in the bed of the Almo. In the portico on the right is the only authentic statue of Julius Cæsar; on the left, a statue of Augustus, leaning against the rostrum of a galley, in allusion to the battle of Actium.

      The Protomoteca, a suite of eight rooms on the ground floor, contains a collection of busts of eminent Italians, with a few foreigners considered as naturalised by a long residence in Rome. Those in the second room, representing artists of the thirteenth, fourteenth, and fifteenth centuries, were entirely executed at the expense of Canova.

      At the foot of the staircase is a restoration by Michael Angelo of the column of Caius Duilius. On the upper flight of the staircase is a bas-relief of Curtius leaping into the gulf, here represented as a marsh.

      "Un bas-relief d'un travail ancien, dont le style ressemble à celui des figures peintes sur les vases dits archaïques, représente Curtius engagé dans son marais; le cheval baisse la tête et flaire le marécage, qui est indiqué par des roseaux. Le guerrier penché en avant, presse sa monture. On a vivement, en présence de cette curieuse sculpture, le sentiment d'un incident héroïque probablement réel, et en même temps de l'aspect primitif du lieu qui en fut témoin."—Ampère, Hist. Rom. i. 321.

      On the first and second landings are magnificent reliefs, representing events in the life of Marcus Aurelius, Imp., belonging to the arch dedicated to him, which was wantonly destroyed, in order to widen the Corso, by Alexander VII.

      "Jusqu'au lègne de Commode Rome est représentée par une Amazone; dans l'escalier du palais des Conservateurs, Rome, en tunique courte d'Amazone et le globe à la main, reçoit Marc Aurèle; le globe dans la main de Rome date de César."—Ampère, iii. 242.

      The Halls of the Conservators consist of eight rooms. The 1st, painted in fresco from the history of the Roman kings, by the Cavaliere d'Arpino, contains statues of Urban VIII., by Bernini; Leo X., by the Sicilian Giacomo della Duca;[41] and Innocent X., in bronze, by Algardi. The 2nd room, adorned with subjects from republican history by Lauretti, has statues of modern Roman generals—Marc Antonio Colonna, Tommaso Rospigliosi, Francesco Aldobrandini, Carlo Barberini, brother of Urban VIII., and Alessandro Farnese, Duke of Parma. The 3rd room, painted by Daniele di Volterra, with subjects from the wars with the Cimbri, contains the famous Bronze Wolf of the Capitol, one of the most interesting relics in the city. The figure of the wolf is of unknown antiquity; those of Romulus and Remus are modern. It has been doubted whether this is the wolf described by Dionysius as "an ancient work of brass" standing in the temple of Romulus under the Palatine, or the wolf described by Cicero, who speaks of a little gilt figure of the founder of the city sucking the teats of a wolf. The Ciceronian wolf was struck by lightning in the time of the great orator, and a fracture in the existing figure, attributed to lightning, is adduced in proof of its identity with it.

      "Geminos huic ubera circum

       Ludere pendentes pueros, et lambere matrem

       Impavidos: illam tereti cervice reflexam

       Mulcere alternos, et corpora fingere lingua."

      Virgil, Æn. viii. 632.

      "And thou, the thunder-stricken nurse of Rome!

       She-wolf! whose brazen-imaged dugs impart

       The milk of conquest yet within the dome

       Where, as a monument of antique art,

       Thou standest:—mother of the mighty heart,

       Which the great founder sucked from thy wild teat,

       Scorch'd by the Roman Jove's ethereal dart,

       And thy limbs black with lightning—dost

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