They did not depress and dishearten me so
much as the pictures in Roman palaces usually do; for they were in
remarkably good order as regards frames and varnish; indeed, I rather
suspect some of them had been injured by the means adopted to preserve
their beauty. The palace is now occupied by the French Ambassador, who
probably looks upon the pictures as articles of furniture and household
adornment, and does not choose to have squares of black and forlorn
canvas upon his walls. There were a few noble portraits by Vandyke; a
very striking one by Holbein, one or two by Titian, also by Guercino, and
some pictures by Rubens, and other forestieri painters, which refreshed
my weary eyes. But--what chiefly interested me was the magnificent and
stately hall of the palace; fifty-five of my paces in length, besides a
large apartment at either end, opening into it through a pillared space,
as wide as the gateway of a city. The pillars are of giallo antico, and
there are pilasters of the same all the way up and down the walls,
forming a perspective of the richest aspect, especially as the broad
cornice flames with gilding, and the spaces between the pilasters are
emblazoned with heraldic achievements and emblems in gold, and there are
Venetian looking-glasses, richly decorated over the surface with
beautiful pictures of flowers and Cupids, through which you catch the
gleam of the mirror; and two rows of splendid chandeliers extend from end
to end of the hall, which, when lighted up, if ever it be lighted up,
now-a-nights, must be the most brilliant interior that ever mortal eye
beheld.
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