DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.53553#0029
11
liantly combated the received tradition ; probably envy-
ing a heathen the laurel, which on the tomb of his saint
(St. Januarius), he would have adored with superstitious
devotion.
The natural beauties of this delightful spot far exceed
the present appearance of the building itself, although, to
judge from what remains, its design proclaims the chaste
style of architecture prevalent in the Augustan age. It is a
square little temple, not much larger than one of our turn-
pike lodges; the outside has suffered so much from the
ravages of time, as barely to indicate its former figure.
The interior is rather in a better condition. Round its four
walls are sunk various niches, evidently destined to contain
cinerary urns; and it is said, that in one of the recesses, the
ashes of Virgil himself were deposited in a marble vase, with
the following inscription written by himself:
“ Mantua me genuit ; Calabrt rapuere ; tenet nunc
“ Parthenope : cecini pascua, ruru, duces,”
I should be inclined to doubt the authenticity of these
lines, were it not, that possibly the poet may have sacrificed
the usual harmony of his numbers to the desire of compress-
ing in one distich a most laconic notice of the places of his
birth, death, and interment, as well as of his principal
works. After all it is an odd composition, if it be his own;
for what can be more superfluous than to record the place
you are buried in, on your very tomb-stone? But I can
easily fancy that a man is not in the best of humours when
he is composing his own epitaph, notwithstanding the ab-
solute certainty he must be under, that in this instance he
is writing for posterity.
Naples was the favourite residence of our poet. Augus-
tus had granted him some respectable post there, exempted
c 2 from
liantly combated the received tradition ; probably envy-
ing a heathen the laurel, which on the tomb of his saint
(St. Januarius), he would have adored with superstitious
devotion.
The natural beauties of this delightful spot far exceed
the present appearance of the building itself, although, to
judge from what remains, its design proclaims the chaste
style of architecture prevalent in the Augustan age. It is a
square little temple, not much larger than one of our turn-
pike lodges; the outside has suffered so much from the
ravages of time, as barely to indicate its former figure.
The interior is rather in a better condition. Round its four
walls are sunk various niches, evidently destined to contain
cinerary urns; and it is said, that in one of the recesses, the
ashes of Virgil himself were deposited in a marble vase, with
the following inscription written by himself:
“ Mantua me genuit ; Calabrt rapuere ; tenet nunc
“ Parthenope : cecini pascua, ruru, duces,”
I should be inclined to doubt the authenticity of these
lines, were it not, that possibly the poet may have sacrificed
the usual harmony of his numbers to the desire of compress-
ing in one distich a most laconic notice of the places of his
birth, death, and interment, as well as of his principal
works. After all it is an odd composition, if it be his own;
for what can be more superfluous than to record the place
you are buried in, on your very tomb-stone? But I can
easily fancy that a man is not in the best of humours when
he is composing his own epitaph, notwithstanding the ab-
solute certainty he must be under, that in this instance he
is writing for posterity.
Naples was the favourite residence of our poet. Augus-
tus had granted him some respectable post there, exempted
c 2 from