ROME, _June_ 30_th_.
As soon as the sun declined I strolled into the Villa Medici; but finding
it haunted by fine pink and yellow people, nay, even by the Spanish
Ambassador, and several more dignified carcasses, I moved off to the
Negroni garden. There I found what my soul desired, thickets of jasmine,
and wild spots overgrown with bay; long alleys of cypress totally
neglected, and almost impassable through the luxuriance of the
vegetation; on every side antique fragments, vases, sarcophagi, and
altars sacred to the Manes, in deep, shady recesses, which I am certain
the Manes must love. The air was filled with the murmurs of water,
trickling down basins of porphyry, and losing itself amongst overgrown
weeds and grasses.
Above the wood and between its boughs appeared several domes, and a
strange lofty tower. I will not say they belong to St. Maria Maggiore;
no, they are fanes and porticos dedicated to Cybele, who delights in
sylvan situations. The forlorn air of this garden, with its high and
reverend shades, make me imagine it as old as the baths of Dioclesian,
which peep over one of its walls. Yes, I am persuaded some consul or
prætor dwelt here only fifty years ago. Would to God, our souls might be
transported to such solitary spots! where we might glide along the dark
alleys together, when bodies were gone to bed. I discovered a little
cave that would just suit us; celandine, Venus’ hair, and a thousand
delicate plants, growing downwards from the cave; beneath lies a clear
spring.
At the close of day, I repaired to the platform before the stately
porticos of the Lateran. There I sat, folded up in myself. Some priests
jarred the iron gates behind me. I looked over my shoulder through the
portals, into the portico. Night began to fill it with darkness. Upon
turning round, the sad waste of the Campagna met my eyes, and I wished to
go home, but had not the power. A pressure, like that I have felt in
horrid dreams, seemed to fix me to the pavement.
I was thus in a manner forced to view the dreary scene, the long line of
aqueducts and lonesome towers. Perhaps the unwholesome vapours, rising
like blue mists from the plains, affected me. I know not how it was; but
I never experienced such strange, such chilling terrors. About ten
o’clock, thank God, the spell dissolved; I found my limbs at liberty, and
returned home.