"Pline dit que les trois statues dont se compose le groupe étaient d'un seul morceau, et ce groupe est formé de plusieurs, on en a compté jusqu'à six. Ceci semblerait faire croire que nous n'avons qu'une copie, mais j'avoue ne pas attacher une grande importance à cette indication de Pline, compilateur plus érudit qu'observateur attentif. Michel-Ange, dit-on, remarqua le premier que le Laocoon n'était pas d'un seul morceau; Pline a très-bien pu ne pas s'en apercevoir plus que nous et répéter de confiance une assertion inexacte."—Ampère, Hist. Rom. iii. 382, 385, 387.
... "Turning to the Vatican, go see
Laocoon's torture dignifying pain—
A father's love and mortal's agony
With an immortal's patience blending, vain
The struggle; vain against the coiling strain
And gripe, and deepening of the dragon's grasp,
The old man's clench; the long envenom'd chain
Rivets the living links,—the enormous asp
Enforces pang on pang, and stifles gasp on gasp."
Childe Harold.
"The circumstance of the two sons being so much smaller than the father, has been criticised by some, but this seems to have been necessary to the harmony of the composition. The same apparent disproportion exists between Niobe and her children, in the celebrated group at Florence, supposed to be by Scopas. The raised arms of the three figures are all restorations, as are some portions of the serpents. Originally, the raised hands of the old man rested on his head, and the traces of the junction are clearly discernible. For this we have also the evidence of an antique gem, on which it is thus engraved. This work was found in the baths (?) of Titus, in the reign of Julius II., by a certain Felix de Fredis, who received half the revenue of the gabella of the Porta San Giovanni as a reward, and whose epitaph, in the church of Ara Cœli, records the fact."—Shakspere Wood.
"Il y avait dans la vie, au seizième siècle, je ne sais qu'elle excitation fébrile, quelle aspiration vers le beau, vers l'inconnu, qui disposait les esprits à l'enthousiasme.... Félix de Frédis fut gratifié d'une part dans les revenus de la porte de Saint Jean de Latran, pour avoir trouvé le groupe du Laocoon, et, lorsque l'ordre fut donné de transporter au Belvédère le Laocoon, l'Apollon, la Vénus, Rome entière s'émut, on jetait des fleurs au marbre, on battait des mains; depuis les thermes de Titus jusqu'au Vatican, le Laocoon fut porté en triomphe; et Sadolet chantait sur le mode virgilien que durent reconnaître les échos de l'Esquilin et du palais d'Auguste."—Gournerie, Rome Chrétienne.
"I felt the Laocoon very powerfully, though very quietly; an immortal agony, with a strange calmness diffused through it, so that it resembles the vast rage of the sea, calm on account of its immensity; or the tumult of Niagara, which does not seem to be tumult, because it keeps pouring on for ever and ever."
"It is a type of human beings, struggling with an inexplicable trouble, and entangled in a complication which they cannot free themselves from by their own efforts, and out of which Heaven alone can help them."—Hawthorne, Notes on Italy.
The Fourth Cabinet contains *the Apollo Belvedere, found in the sixteenth century at Porto d'Anzio (Antium), and purchased by Julius II. for the Belvedere Palace, which was at that time a garden pavilion separated from the rest of the Vatican, and used as a museum of sculpture. It is now decided that this statue, beautiful as it is, is not the original work of a Greek sculptor, but a copy, probably from the bronze of Calamides, which represented Apollo, as the defender of the city, and which was erected at Athens after the cessation of a great plague. Four famous statues of Apollo are mentioned by Pliny as existing at Rome in his time, but this is not one of them.
"Or view the Lord of the unerring bow,
The God of life, and poesy, and light—
The Sun in human limbs array'd, and brow
All radiant from his triumph in the fight;
The shaft hath just been shot—the arrow bright
With an immortal's vengeance; in his eye
And nostril beautiful disdain, and might,
And majesty flash their full lightnings by,
Developing in that one glance the Deity."
Childe Harold.
"Bright kindling with a conqueror's stem delight,
His keen eye tracks the arrow's fateful flight:
Burns his indignant cheek with vengeful fire,
And his lip quivers with insulting ire:
Firm fix'd his tread, yet light, as when on high
He walks th' impalpable and pathless sky:
The rich luxuriance of his hair, confined
In graceful ringlets, wantons on the wind,
That lifts in sport his mantle's drooping fold,
Proud to display that form of faultless mould.
Mighty Ephesian! with an eagle's flight
Thy proud soul mounted through the fields of light,
View'd the bright conclave of Heaven's blest abode,
And the cold marble leapt to life a god:
Contagious awe through breathless myriads ran,
And nations bow'd before the work of man.
For mild he seem'd, as in Elysian bowers,
Wasting in careless ease the joyous hours;
Haughty, as bards have sung, with princely sway
Curbing the fierce flame-breathing steeds of day;
Beauteous as vision seen in dreamy sleep
By holy maid on Delphi's haunted steep,
Mid the dim twilight of the laurel grove,
Too fair to worship, too divine to love."
Henry Hart Milman.
In the second portico, between Canova's statues and the Antinous, is (No. 43) a Venus and Cupid,—interesting because the Venus is a portrait of Sallustia Barbia Orbiana, wife of Alexander Severus. It was discovered in the fifteenth century, in the ruin near Sta. Croce in Gerusalemme, to which it has given a name. In the third portico, between the Antinous and the Laocoon, are two beautiful dogs. Between these we enter: