A road to the left now leads to the Via Appia Nuova, passing about a quarter of a mile hence, a turn on the left to the ruin generally known as the Temple of Bacchus, from an altar dedicated to Bacchus which was found there, but considered by modern antiquaries as a temple of Ceres and Proserpine. This building has been comparatively saved from the destruction which has befallen its neighbours by having been consecrated as a church in A.D. 820 by Pope Pascal I., in honour of his sainted predecessor Urban I., A.D. 226—whose pontificate was chiefly passed in refuge in the neighbouring Catacomb of St. Calixtus—because of a belief that he was wont to resort hither.
A chapel at a great depth below the church, is shown as that in which St. Urban baptized and celebrated mass. A curious fresco here represents the Virgin between St. Urban and St. John.
Around the upper part of the interior are a much injured series of frescoes, comprising—the life of Christ from the Annunciation to the descent into Hades,—and the life of St. Cecilia and her husband Valerian, ending in the burial of Cecilia by Pope Urban in the Catacombs of Calixtus, and the story of the martyred Urban I. In the picture of the Crucifixion, the thieves have their names, "Calpurnius and Longinus." The frescoes were altered in the seventeenth century to suit the views of the Roman Church, keys being placed in the hand of Peter, &c. Sets of drawings taken before and after the alterations, are preserved in the Barberini Library, and curiously show the difference.
A winding path leads from S. Urbano into the valley. Here, beside the Almo rivulet, is a ruined Nymphæum containing a mutilated statue of a river-god, which was called "the Grotto of Egeria," till a few years ago, when the discovery of the true site of the Porta Capena fixed that of the grotto within the walls. The fine grove of old ilex-trees on the hillside, was at the same time pointed out as the sacred grove of Egeria.
"Egeria! sweet creation of some heart
Which found no mortal resting-place so fair
As thine ideal breast; whate'er thou art
Or wert,—a young Aurora of the air,
The nympholepsy of some fond despair;
Or, it might be, a beauty of the earth,
Who found a more than common votary there
Too much adoring; whatsoe'er thy birth,
Thou wert a beautiful thought, and softly bodied forth.
"The mosses of thy fountain still are sprinkled
With thine Elysian water-drops; the face
Of thy cave-guarded spring, with years unwrinkled,
Reflects the meek-eyed genius of the place,
Whose green, wild margin now no more erase
Art's works; nor must the delicate waters sleep,
Prisoned in marble, bubbling from the base
Of the cleft statue, with a gentle leap
The rill runs o'er, and round, fern, flowers, and ivy, creep,
"Fantastically tangled; the green hills
Are clothed with early blossoms, through the grass
The quick-eyed lizard rustles, and the bills
Of summer-birds sing welcome as ye pass;
Flowers fresh in hue, and many in their class,
Implore the pausing step, and with their dyes
Dance in the soft breeze in a fairy mass;
The sweetness of the violet's deep blue eyes,
Kiss'd by the breath of heaven, seems coloured by its skies."
Byron, Childe Harold.
It is now known that this nymphæum and the valley in which it stands belonged to the suburban villa called Triopio, of Herodes Atticus, whose romantic story is handed down to us through two Greek inscriptions in the possession of the Borghese family, and is further illustrated by the writings of Filostratus and Pausanias.
A wealthy Greek named Ipparchus offended his government and lost all his wealth by confiscation, but the family fortunes were redeemed, through the discovery by his son Atticus of a vast treasure, concealed in a small piece of ground which remained to them, close to the rock of the Acropolis. Dreading the avarice of his fellow-citizens, Atticus sent at once to Nerva, the then emperor, telling him of the discovery, and requesting his orders as to what he was to do with the treasure. Nerva replied, that he was welcome to keep it, and use it as he pleased. Not yet satisfied or feeling sufficiently sure of the protection of the emperor, Atticus again applied to him, saying that the treasure was far too vast for the use of a person in a private station of life, and asking how he was to use it. The emperor again replied that the treasure was his own and due to his own good fortune, and that "what he could not use he might abuse." Atticus then entered securely into possession of his wealth, which he bequeathed to his son Herodes, who used his fortune magnificently in his bountiful charities, in the encouragement of literature and art throughout both Greece and Italy, and (best appreciated of all by the Greeks) in the splendour of the public games which he gave.