“This really gives me an impression of grandeur and force,” he said to himself. “What a splendid palace! It looks like an ancient knight in full armour, looking indifferently at everything, sure of his own worth.”
Cæsar walked from one end of the piazza to the other, absorbed in the majestic pile of stone.
Kennedy surprised him in his contemplation.
“Now will you say that you are a good philistine?”
“Ah, well, this palace is magnificent. Here are grandeur, strength, overwhelming force.”
“Yes, it is magnificent; but very uncomfortable, my French colleagues tell me.”
Kennedy related the history of the Farnese Palace to Cæsar. They went through the Via del Mascherone and came out into the Via Giulia.
“This Via Giulia is a street in a provincial capital,” said Kennedy; “always sad and deserted; a Cardinal or two who like isolation are still living here.”
At the entrance to the Via dei Farnesi, Cæsar stopped to look at two marble tablets set into the wall at the two sides of a chapel door.
Cut on the tablets were skeletons painted black; on one, the words: “Alms for the poor dead bodies found in the fields,” and on the other: “Alms for the perpetual lamp in the cemetery.”