Rollo in Rome

Mr. George and Rollo continued to ascend the different staircases which they met with in their wanderings, until at length they had reached a great elevation; and yet so immense was the extent of the interior of the edifice, that they were not at all too high to see the arena to advantage. Here Rollo crept out upon one of the sloping platforms, where there had formerly been seats for spectators, and calling to Mr. George to follow him, he sat down upon a great square stone, which seemed to have formed a part of the ancient foundation of the seats.

"Come, uncle George," said Rollo, "let us sit down here a few minutes, and make believe that the games are going on, and that we are the spectators."

"Yes," said Mr. George, "we will. In that way we can get a better idea of what the Coliseum was."

"I wish we could bring it all back again," said Rollo, "just as it was in old times, by some sort of magic."

"We must do it by the magic of imagination," said Mr. George.

"Only," continued Rollo, "the things that they did down in the arena were so dreadful that we could not bear to look at them."

"True," said Mr. George. "The spectacles must have been very dreadful, indeed."

"Such as when the lions and tigers came out to tear and devour the poor Christians," said Rollo.

"Yes," said Mr. George; "but generally, I suppose, when wild beasts and men were brought out together on the arena, it was the beasts that were killed, and not the men. It was a combat, and I suppose that the men were usually victorious. It was the spectacle of the fury of the combat, and of the bravery which the men displayed, and of the terrible danger that they were often exposed to, that so excited and pleased the spectators."

"I should not have thought that they could have found any men that would have been willing to fight the beasts," said Rollo.

"Perhaps the men were not willing," replied Mr. George, "but were compelled to fight them. Indeed, I suppose that they were generally prisoners of war or criminals. The generals used to bring home a great many prisoners of war from the different countries that they conquered, and these men were trained in Rome, and in other great cities, to fight on the arena, either with wild beasts, or with one another. They were called gladiators. There is a statue of one, wounded and dying, somewhere here in Rome."

"I should like to see it," said Rollo.

"We shall see it, undoubtedly," said Mr. George. "It is one of the most celebrated statues in the world. It is called the Dying Gladiator. I presume the sculptor of it made it from his recollections of the posture and expression of face which were witnessed in the case of real gladiators in the arena, when they had been mortally wounded, and were sinking down to die."

"We certainly must see it," said Rollo.

"We certainly will," rejoined Mr. George. "It is celebrated all over the world. Byron wrote a very fine stanza describing it."

"What was the stanza?" asked Rollo.

"I don't remember it all," said Mr. George. "It was something about his sinking down upon the ground, leaning upon his hand, and the expression of his face showed, though he yielded to death, he conquered and triumphed over the pain. Then there is something about his wife and children, far away in Dacia, his native land, where he had been captured in fighting to protect them, and brought to Rome to fight and die in the Coliseum, to make amusement for the Roman populace."

"I wish you could remember the lines themselves," said Rollo.

"Perhaps I can find them in the Guide Book," said Mr. George.

So saying, Mr. George opened the Guide Book, and turned to the index.

"I believe," said he, "that the statue of the Dying Gladiator is in the Capitol."

"We have not been there yet, have we?" asked Rollo.

"Yes," replied Mr. George; "we went there the first day, to get a view from the cupola on the summit. But there is a museum of sculptures and statues there which we have not seen yet. You see the Capitol Hill was in ancient times one of the most important public places in Rome, and when the city was destroyed, immense numbers of statues, and inscribed marbles, and beautiful sculptured ornaments were buried up there in the rubbish and ruins. When, finally, they were dug out, new buildings were erected on the spot, and all the objects that were found there were arranged in a museum. Ah! here it is," he added. "I have found the lines."

So Mr. George read the lines as follows. He read them in a slow and solemn manner.

"I see before me the gladiator lie;He leans upon his hand; his manly browConsents to death, but conquers agony;And his drooped head sinks gradually low;And through his side the last drops, ebbing slowFrom the red gash, fall heavy, one by one,Like the first of a thunder shower; and nowThe arena swims around him—he is gone,Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hailed the wretch who won."He heard it, but he heeded not; his eyesWere with his heart, and that was far away.He recked 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."

"The Goths did arise and glut their ire," said Mr. George, after he had finished reciting the lines, "for they were in great measure the authors of all this ruin and destruction."

After sitting nearly half an hour in this place, Mr. George rose, and, Rollo following him, went back into the corridors again. They rambled along the corridors, and mounted the staircases to higher and higher points, until they had ascended as far as they could go. In these upper regions of the ruin Rollo had a good opportunity to procure specimens of marble and of stamped bricks, for in various places there, he found immense stores of bricks and marble, and other rubbish, piled up in square heaps under arches, or in great recesses among the ruins. Rollo selected some of the bricks which had stamps upon them, and then, with a piece of marble for a hammer, he contrived to break away all of the brick except the part which contained the stamp, and thus procured specimens of a convenient form for carrying. These specimens he wrapped separately in pieces of newspaper, and put them in his pockets.

At length Mr. George said it was time for them to go home; so they began to descend. They went down by different passages and staircases from those which they had taken in coming up; but they came out at last at the same gateway. The custodian was just unlocking the gate when they arrived, in order to admit another party. Mr. George gave him a couple of pauls, and then he and Rollo set out to go home.

Their way led them over the ancient site of the Roman Forum, which presented to view on every side, as they passed, broken columns and ruined arches, with the mouldering remains of ancient foundations, cropping out here and there amid grassy slopes and mounds.

"Uncle George," said Rollo, as they walked along, "we are going directly by the Capitol Hill as we go home. Let us go in now and see the Dying Gladiator."

"Very well," said Mr. George, "we will."

Accordingly, when they reached the base of the hill, they turned to go up. There was a broad and steep paved ascent leading up the hill, somewhat like a road, only it was too steep for a carriage. Indeed, there were little steps at short intervals, with a sloping pavement between them. You see this ascent in the engraving. It is in the centre of the view. There are statues of lions at the foot of it, with water spouting from their mouths. At the top are larger statues of horses, standing on lofty pedestals, with men by the side of them, holding them by the bridles. These are ancient statues. They were found buried up in rubbish in an obscure quarter of Rome, about two hundred years ago. Beyond, you see other groups of colossal statuary raised on lofty pedestals in various parts of the great square which forms the summit of the hill.

On the left you see a church, standing in a very high position, with a still steeper ascent than the one I have been describing, leading up to it. On the right is a winding road for carriages, which leads up, by a tolerably gentle ascent, to the great square.

The great square is surrounded with vast palaces, almost all of which are filled with paintings, statuary, sculptures, and other treasures of ancient and modern art. Mr. George and Rollo turned to the left after they had ascended into the square, and entered a door over which was an inscription denoting that it led to the museum of sculptures and statues. After ascending one or two staircases, they came to the entrance of a suit of apartments in which the statuary was contained. There was a public functionary, dressed somewhat like a soldier, standing sentinel at the door. He, however, readily allowed Mr. George and Rollo to pass in. There were various other parties of visitors going in at the same time.

Mr. George and Rollo walked through one long room after another, with rows of statues, and busts, and other works of ancient sculpture on each side. These marbles were almost all more or less chipped and broken, or otherwise greatly defaced by the hard usage to which they had been subjected.

"Uncle George," said Rollo, as they walked along, "how came all their ears and noses broken off in this way?"

"Why, all these things were dug out from heaps of stones and rubbish," said Mr. George, "a few hundred years ago. For nearly a thousand years before that time, they were regarded as of no more value than so many old bricks.

"Here's a gentleman coming," added Mr. George, interrupting himself, "who looks as if he could speak French. I mean to ask him where the hall of the Dying Gladiator is."

Accordingly, when the gentleman came up, Mr. George, accosting him in French, asked him the question, and the gentleman, replying in French, gave the information in a very polite manner. It was a little farther on, he said.

"Is there a special hall for the Dying Gladiator?" asked Rollo.

"No," said Mr. George, "not for the Dying Gladiator alone. But many of the halls in these museums are named from the most celebrated statue that there is in them. And I knew that the room where the Dying Gladiator is placed was called by that name."

So they walked on, and presently they came to the room. There were a great many large statues in it; but among them it was very easy to recognize at once the one which they had come to see, both on account of the conspicuous situation in which it was placed, and also from its form. Here is a representation of it.

Mr. George and Rollo both looked upon the statue for a few minutes in silence.

"Yes," said Rollo, at length, "yes, I see. He is dying. He is sinking gradually down."

"Do you see the wound in his side?" asked Mr. George.

"Yes," replied Rollo, "and the drops of blood coming out."

"He has dropped his sword," said Mr. George. "It is lying there near his hand."

"What a short sword!" said Rollo. "There are some other things lying on the ground beneath him, but I do not know what they are."

"Nor I," said Mr. George. "One of them seems to be a sort of trumpet. People think from that that this man was a herald."

"But I thought he was a gladiator," said Rollo.

"They call him a gladiator," replied Mr. George, "but nobody really knows what the statue was originally intended for. You see it was dug up out of a heap of rubbish, just as almost all these statues were, and people have to guess what they were intended for. This statue was dug up in a garden—a garden belonging to an ancient Roman villa."

"What does that cord around his neck mean?" asked Rollo.

"They think it means that the man was a Gaul. The Gauls used to wear such cords, I believe."

"I thought he was a Dacian," said Rollo.

"I suppose it is uncertain who he was," replied Mr. George; "but look at his face. See the expression of it. It is an expression of mingled suffering and rage, and yet he looks as if he were so far gone as to begin to be unconscious of every thing around him."

"Yes," said Rollo; "he does not seem to notice us at all."

"In that," said Mr. George, "is shown the great skill of the sculptor, to express such different, and, as one would think, almost conflicting emotions in the same face, at the same time."

After looking at the statue some time longer, Rollo and Mr. George walked around the room, and looked at the other pieces of sculpture that there were there. They afterwards came back again to the gladiator, in order to take one more view of it before they went away. Mr. George advised Rollo to look at it well, and impress the image of it strongly on his mind.

"It is one of the treasures of the world," said he; "and in the course of your life, though you may never see it here, in the original, again, you will meet with casts of it and drawings of it without number, and you will find descriptions of it and allusions to it continually recurring in the conversation that you hear and the books that you read. Indeed, the image of the Dying Gladiator forms a part of the mental furnishing of every highly-cultivated intellect in the civilized world."

Chapter VIII.

The Tarpeian Rock

One morning while Mr. George and Rollo were taking breakfast together in the dining room of the hotel, Mr. George remarked that he had received some news that morning.

"Is it good news, or bad news?" asked Rollo.

"It is good for me," replied Mr. George, "but I rather think you will consider it bad for you."

"Tell me what it is," said Rollo, "and then I will tell you how I consider it."

So Mr. George informed Rollo that the news which he had received was, that there had been an arrival from America, and that the last night's post had brought the papers to town.

"And so," said Mr. George, "I am going to spend the morning at Piale's5 library, reading the papers, and you will be left to entertain yourself."

"O, that's no matter," said Rollo. "I can get Charles Beekman to go with me. We can take care of ourselves very well."

"What will you do?" asked Mr. George.

"I want to go and see the Tarpeian Rock," said Rollo. "I read about that rock, and about Tarpeia, in a history in America, and I want to see how the rock looks."

"Do you know where it is?" asked Mr. George.

"No," said Rollo; "but I can find out."

"Very well," said Mr. George; "then I leave you to take care of yourself. You can get Charles to go, if his mother will trust him with you."

"She will, I am sure," said Rollo.

"Why, you got lost when you took him the other day," said Mr. George, "and you had ever so much difficulty in finding your way home again."

"O, no, uncle George," said Rollo, "we did not have any difficulty at all. We only had a little fun."

Soon after breakfast Mr. George bade Rollo good by, and went off to the bookstore and library, where he was to see and read the American papers. As soon as his uncle had gone, Rollo went up to Mrs. Beekman's room, and knocked at the door. A well-dressed man servant came to the door. It was Mr. Beekman's courier.

"Walk in, Mr. Rollo," said the courier; "Mrs. Beekman and Charles will come in a minute."

So Rollo went in. The room was a small parlor, very beautifully furnished. In a few minutes Mrs. Beekman and Charles came in, followed by Charles's sister, a lively young lady about twelve years of age. Her name was Almira, though they usually called her Allie.

Rollo informed Mrs. Beekman, when she came into the room, that he had come to ask her to allow Charles to go and make an excursion with him. He was going, he said, to see the Tarpeian Rock.

"O, I would not go to see the Tarpeian Rock," said Mrs. Beekman. "Some ladies of my acquaintance went to see it the other day, and they said it was nothing at all."

"Ah, yes, mother!" said Charles, in an entreating tone of voice, "let me go with Rollo."

"Why, there is nothing at all to see," said Mrs. Beekman. "It is only a small, steep face of a rock in a bank. On the Hudson River Railroad you see rocks and precipices forty times as picturesque, all along the way."

Still Rollo and Charles were very desirous to go. The truth was, it was not so much what they expected to see at the end of the excursion, which made it so alluring to them, as the interest and excitement of the various adventures which they thought they would meet with on the way. Finally Mrs. Beekman said that she had not the least objection in the world to their going to see the rock, only she was herself perfectly convinced that they would not find any thing worth seeing.

"I wish Allie could go too," said Rollo.

"Yes, mother," said Allie, clapping her hands.

"Why, do you care about seeing the Tarpeian Rock?" asked her mother.

"Yes, mother," said Allie, "I wish to see it very much, though I don't know what it is. What is it, Rollo?"

"I'll tell you all about it on the way," said Rollo, "if you can only go with us."

"But she cannot walk there," said Mrs. Beekman. "No lady ever walks in Rome."

"I will take a carriage," said Rollo.

"I am afraid you don't know how to manage about a carriage," said Mrs. Beekman.

"Yes, mother," replied Charles, "he knows how to manage about a carriage perfectly well. I tried him the other day."

Mrs. Beekman finally gave a tardy and reluctant consent to the children's proposal. She did not manage the case very wisely. She should have considered in the first instance what her decision ought to be, and then she should have adhered to it. If she was going to consent at all, she should have consented cordially, and at once. For parents first to refuse their children's request, and then allow themselves to be induced to change their determination by the entreaties and persuasions of the children themselves, is bad management.

Allie went into her mother's bed room to get ready, and in a few minutes returned, her countenance beaming with animation and pleasure.

They all went down to the door of the hotel. There were several carriages standing in the square. The coachmen, as soon as they saw the party at the door, all began to hold up their whips, and to call to Rollo. Some of them began to move their horses towards him.

Rollo glanced his eyes rapidly at the several coaches, and selecting the one which he thought looked the best, he beckoned to the coachman of it. The coachman immediately drew up to the door. He then jumped down from the box, and opened the carriage door.

Before getting in, however, Rollo wished to make his bargain; so he said to the coachman,—

"To the Capitol. Two pauls."

He spoke these words in the Italian language. He had learned the Italian for "two pauls" long before, and he had looked out the Italian name for the Capitol in his Guide Book that morning, so as to be all ready. The Italian name which he found was Campidoglio.

The coachman hesitated a moment, and then said, holding up three fingers at the same time,—

"Three pauls."

Of course he spoke in Italian.

Rollo, instead of answering him, immediately began to turn away and look out towards the other carriages.

"Si, signore, si," said the coachman. "Two pauls let it be."

So he held open the carriage door wider than ever, and Rollo assisted Allie to get in. He and Charles followed, and then the coachman drove away.

"You agreed to give him too much," said Charles, as soon as they were seated. "A paul and a half is the regular fare."

"I know it," said Rollo; "but I always offer a little more than the regular fare, especially when I have a lady with me, for then they have not a word to say."

"But this man had a word to say," replied Charles. "He wanted you to give him three pauls."

"Yes," said Rollo, "sometimes they try a little to make a dispute; but they have no chance at all, and they give right up."

Rollo had ordered the coachman to drive to the Capitol, because he had found, by studying the map and the Guide Book, that the entrance to the enclosure where the Tarpeian Rock was to be seen was very near there. He had examined the map attentively, and so he knew exactly which way he must go after being set down at the foot of the Capitol stairs.

Accordingly, when the carriage stopped, Rollo got out first himself, and then helped Allie and Charles out. He paid the coachman the price agreed upon, and a couple of coppers over for buono mano.

"Now," said he to Charles and Allie, "follow me."

Rollo went on a little way along a winding street, and then turning to the right, began to go up a steep ascent, formed of very broad steps, which seemed to lead to a higher street. As soon as the party began to go up these steps, they saw several children running down from above to meet them. When these children reached the place where Rollo was, they began saying something very eagerly in Italian, scrambling up the steps again at the same time, so as to keep up with Rollo and his party.

"What do these children want?" asked Allie.

"I don't know," said Rollo. "I have not the least idea."

"I suppose they are begging," said Charles.

"No," said Allie. "If they were begging, they would hold out their hands."

At the top of the stairs Rollo and his party were met by half a dozen more children, so that there were now eight or ten in all. They ran on before and by the side of Rollo and his party, all looking very eager and animated, talking incessantly, and beckoning and pointing forward.

"Ah!" said Rollo, "I know. They want to show us the way to the Tarpeian Rock."

"But you said you knew the way," said Allie.

"I said I could find it," replied Rollo, "and so I can; but I am willing to pay one of these children for showing me, but not all. Stop a minute, till I choose. Or, rather, you may choose, Allie," he added.

The party now stopped, while Allie surveyed the ragged and wretched-looking group before her.

"There is not a pretty child among them," said Allie.

"You should not look for the best looking one, Allie," said Charles. "You should choose the worst looking one. She is likely to need it most. Pretty looking girls get along well enough."

"Then I choose that poor barefooted girl, that looks so pale," said Allie.

"Yes," said Rollo; "she looks as if she had had a fever."

So Rollo pointed to the girl, and showed her a copper, which he took for the purpose from his pocket. At the same time he made a waving motion with his hand to the rest, to denote that he did not wish for their services, and that they might go away.

The barefooted girl seemed greatly pleased. Her pale and emaciated face was lighted up with a smile of pleasure. She ran along forward, beckoning to Rollo and his party to follow.

The rest of the children, though they understood perfectly the signal of dismission that Rollo had made to them, were determined not to be sent off in that way; so they went on gesticulating and clamoring as much as ever.

Rollo paid no attention to them, but walked on with Charles and Allie at his side. Presently their guide, and all the other children with her, stopped at a sort of gateway in a wall. By the side of the gateway there was an iron ring hanging by a chain. Two or three of the children seized this ring together and pulled it, by which means a bell was rung inside. The other children crowded together on each side of this gate, leaving room, however, for Rollo and his party to go through, and all held out their hands for money.

"I am only going to pay the one that I engaged," said Rollo; "but, poor thing, I mean to give her two coppers, instead of one, she looks so sick and miserable."

"So I would," said Allie. "And here," she added, putting her hand into her pocket and taking out a Roman copper coin, "I have got a penny here; you may give her that, too."

"That is not a penny," said Charles. "That is a baioccho."

"Never mind," said Allie; "I call it a penny. I can't remember the other name. Besides, it is all the same thing."

Rollo gave the three pieces of money to the poor girl, and the rest of the children, when they saw how generous he was, became more clamorous than ever. But Rollo paid no heed to them. Indeed, a moment after he had paid his little guide her money, the gate opened, and the party went in. The poor children were all left outside, and shut out.