Part 32 (2/2)
”Yes, that's true,” said Kennedy; ”it is all the more admirable for the very reason that it is tender, sensual, and charming, all at once.”
”However, this sort of thing is not healthy,” murmured Caesar, ”this kind of vision depletes your life-force. One wants to find the same things represented in works of art that one ought to look for in life, even if they are not to be found in life.”
”Good! Here enters the moralist. You talk like an Englishman,” exclaimed Kennedy. ”Let us go along.”
”Where?”
”I have to stop in at the French Emba.s.sy a moment; then we can go where you like.”
_CORNERS OF ROME_
They went back to the carriage, and having crossed through the centre of Rome, got out in front of the Farnese Palace.
”I will be out inside of ten minutes,” said Kennedy.
The Farnese Palace aroused great admiration in Caesar; he had never pa.s.sed it before. By one of the fountains in the _piazza,_ he stood gazing at the huge square edifice, which seemed to him like a die cut from an immense block of stone.
”This really gives me an impression of grandeur and force,” he said to himself. ”What a splendid palace! It looks like an ancient knight in full armour, looking indifferently at everything, sure of his own worth.”
Caesar walked from one end of the _piazza_ to the other, absorbed in the majestic pile of stone.
Kennedy surprised him in his contemplation.
”Now will you say that you are a good philistine?”
”Ah, well, this palace is magnificent. Here are grandeur, strength, overwhelming force.”
”Yes, it is magnificent; but very uncomfortable, my French colleagues tell me.”
Kennedy related the history of the Farnese Palace to Caesar. They went through the Via del Mascherone and came out into the Via Giulia.
”This Via Giulia is a street in a provincial capital,” said Kennedy; ”always sad and deserted; a Cardinal or two who like isolation are still living here.”
At the entrance to the Via dei Farnesi, Caesar stopped to look at two marble tablets set into the wall at the two sides of a chapel door.
Cut on the tablets were skeletons painted black; on one, the words: ”Alms for the poor dead bodies found in the fields,” and on the other: ”Alms for the perpetual lamp in the cemetery.”
”What does this mean?” said Caesar.
”That is the Church of the Orison of the Confraternity of Death. The tablets are modern.”
They pa.s.sed by the ”Mascherone” again, and went rambling on until they reached the Synagogue and the Theatre of Marcellus.
They went through narrow streets without sidewalks; they pa.s.sed across tiny squares; and it seemed like a dead city, or like the outskirts of a village. In certain streets towered high dark palaces of blackish stone.
These mysterious palaces looked uninhabited; the gratings were eaten with rust, all sorts of weeds grew on the roofs, and the balconies were covered with climbing plants. At corners, set into the wall, one saw niches with gla.s.s fronts. A painted madonna, black now, with silver jewels and a crown, could be guessed at inside, and in front a little lantern swung on a cord.
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