"I saw in the Palazzo Spada, the statue of Pompey: the statue at whose base Cæsar fell. A stem, tremendous figure! I imagined one of greater finish: of the last refinement: full of delicate touches: losing its distinctness in the giddy eyes of one whose blood was ebbing before it, and settling into some such rigid majesty as this, as Death came creeping over the upturned face."—Dickens.
"Cæsar was persuaded at first by the entreaties of his wife Calpurnia, who had received secret warning of the plot, to send an excuse to the senate; but afterwards, being ridiculed by Brutus for not going, was carried thither in a litter.... At the moment when Cæsar descended from his litter at the door of the hall, Popilius Læna approached him, and was observed to enter into earnest conversation with him. The conspirators regarded one another, and mutually revealed their despair with a glance. Cassius and others were grasping their daggers beneath their robes; the last resource was to despatch themselves. But Brutus, observing that the manner of Popilius was that of one supplicating rather than warning, restored his companions' confidence with a smile. Caesar entered; his enemies closed in a dense mass around him, and while they led him to his chair kept off all intruders. Trebonius was specially charged to detain Antonius in conversation at the door. Scarcely was the victim seated, when Tillius Cimber approached with a petition for his brother's pardon. The others, as was concerted, joined in the supplication, grasping his hands, and embracing his neck. Cæsar at first put them gently aside, but, as they became more importunate, repelled them with main force. Tillius seized his toga with both hands, and pulled it violently over his arms. Then P. Casca, who was behind, drew a weapon, and grazed his shoulder with an ill-directed stroke. Cæsar disengaged one hand, and snatched at the hilt, shouting, 'Cursed Casca, what means this?'—'Help,' cried Casca to his brother Lucius, and at the same moment the others aimed each his dagger at the devoted object. Cæsar for an instant defended himself, and even wounded one of his assailants with his stylus; but when he distinguished Brutus in the press, and saw the steel flashing in his hand also, 'What, thou too, Brutus!' he exclaimed, let go his hold of Casca, and drawing his robe over his face, made no further resistance. The assassins stabbed him through and through, for they had pledged themselves, one and all, to bathe their daggers in his blood. Brutus himself received a wound in their eagerness and trepidation. The victim reeled a few paces, propped by the blows he received on every side, till he fell dead at the foot of Pompeius' statue."—Merivale, ch. xxi.
The collection of pictures in this palace is little worth seeing. Among its other sculptures are eight grand reliefs, which, till 1620, were turned upside down, and used as a pavement in Sant' Agnese fuori Mura; and a fine statue of Aristotle.
"Aristote est à Rome, vous pouvons l'aller voir au palais Spada, tel que le peignent ses biographes et des vers de Christodore sur une statue qui était à Constantinople, les jambes grêles, les joues maigres, le bras hors du manteau, exserto brachio, comme dit Sidoine Apollinaire d'une autre statue qui était à Rome. Le philosophe est ici sans barbe aussi bien que sur plusieurs pierres gravées; on attribuait à Aristote l'habitude de se raser, rare parmi les philosophes et convenable à un sage qui vivait à la cour. Du reste, c'est bien là le maître de ceux qui savent, selon l'expression de Dante, corps usé par l'étude, tête petite mais qui enferme et comprend tout."—Ampère, Hist. Rom. iii. 547.
A little further, on the right, is the Church of the Trinità dei Pellegrini, built in 1614; the façade designed by Francesco de' Sanctis. It contains a picture of the Trinity by Guido.
The hospital attached to this church was founded by S. Filippo Neri for receiving and nourishing pilgrims of pious intention, who had come from more than sixty miles' distance, for a space of from three to seven days. It is divided into two parts, for males and females. Here, during the Holy Week, the feet of the pilgrims are publicly washed, those of the men by princes, cardinals, &c., those of the women by queens, princesses, and other ladies of rank. In this case the washing is a reality, the feet not having been "prepared beforehand," as for the Lavanda at St Peter's.
An authentic portrait of S. Filippo Neri is preserved here, said to have been painted surreptitiously by an artist who happened to be one of the inmates of the hospital. When S. Filippo saw it, he said, "You should not have stolen me unawares."
The building in front of this church is the Monte di Pietà, founded by the Padre Calvo, in the fifteenth century, to preserve the people from suffering under the usury of the Jews. It is a government establishment, where money is lent at the rate of five per cent. to every class of person. Poor people, especially "Donne di facenda," who have no work in the summer, thankfully avail themselves of this and pawn their necklaces and earrings, which they are able to redeem when the means of subsistence come back with the return of the forestieri. Many Roman servants go through this process annually, and though the Monte di Pietà is often a scene of great suffering when unredeemed goods are sold for the benefit of the establishment, it probably in the main serves to avert much evil from the poorer classes.
A short distance further, following the Via dei Specchi, surrounded by miserable houses (in one of which is a beautiful double gothic window, divided by a twisted column), is the small Church of Sta. Maria in Monticelli, which has a fine low campanile of 1110. Admission may always be obtained through the sacristy to visit the famous "miracle-working" picture called "Gesù Nazareno," a modern half-length of Our Saviour, with the eyelids drooping and half-closed. By an illusion of the painting, the eyes, if watched steadily, appear to open and then slowly to close again as if falling asleep,—in the same way that many English family portraits appear to follow the living bystanders with their eyes; but the effect is very curious. In the case of this picture, the pope turned Protestant, and disapproving of the attention it excited, caused its secret removal. Remonstrance was made, that the picture had been a "regalo" to the church, and ought not to be taken away, and when it was believed to be sufficiently forgotten, it was sent back by night. The mosaics in the apse of this obscure church are for the most part quite modern, but enclose a very grand and expressive head of the Saviour of the World, which dates from 1099, when it was ordered by Pope Paschal II.
A little to the left of this church is the Palazzo Santa Croce. This palace will bring to mind the murder of the Marchesa Costanza Santa Croce, by her two sons (because she would not name them her heirs), on the day when the fate of Beatrice Cenci was trembling in the balance, which brought about her condemnation—the then pope, Clement VIII., determining to make her terrible punishment "an example to all parricides."