They went down the hill, where the monument to Garibaldi flaunts itself, to the terrace of the Spanish Academy.
The view was magnificent; the evening, now falling, was clear; the sky limpid and transparent. From that height the houses of Rome were spread out silent, with an air of solemnity, of immobility, of calm. It appeared a flat town; one did not notice its slopes and its hills; it gave the impression of a city in stone set under a glass globe.
The sky itself, pure and diaphanous, augmented the sensation of withdrawal and quietude; not a cloud on the horizon, not a spot of smoke in the air; silence and repose everywhere. The dome of St. Peter’s had the colour of a cloud, the shrubberies on the Pincio were reddened by the sun, and the Alban Hills disclosed the little white towns and the smiling villas on their declivities.
Preciozi pointed out domes and towers; Cæsar did not hear him, and he was thinking, with a certain terror:
“We shall die, and these stones will continue to shine in the sunlight of other winter evenings.”
THE VATICAN FAMILY
Making an effort with himself, he threw off this painful idea, and turning to Preciozi, asked:
“So you believe that I might have made a nice career in the Church?”
“You! I certainly do think so!” exclaimed Preciozi. “With a cardinal for uncle, che carriera you could have made!”
“But are there enough different jobs in the Church?”