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Updated: May 24, 2025
I had learnt from Lenormant that at a certain spot, Fontanella, by the shore of the Little Sea, were observable great ancient heaps of murex shells the murex precious for its purple, that of Tarentum yielding in glory only to the purple of Tyre. I hoped to see these shells, perhaps to carry one away.
It took my thoughts back to what I saw two days ago while climbing in the torrid hour of noon up that shadeless path where the vanilla-scented orchids grow the path which runs from Sant' Elia past the shattered Natural Arch to Fontanella. Here, at the hottest turning of the road, sat a woman in great distress.
But Fontanella had vanished, swallowed up, with all remnants of antiquity, by the graceless Arsenal. It matters to no one save the few fantastics who hold a memory of the ancient world dearer than any mechanic triumph of to-day. If only one could believe that the Arsenal signified substantial good to Italy!
Sir Moses and Lady Montefiore did not prolong their stay in Rome. On the 13th February they quitted the city for Naples, remaining there till March 22nd, when they again returned to Rome, apartments having been previously taken for them at 54 Via della Fontanella di Borghese. It was now nearly four years since I had first the pleasure of meeting Sir Moses and Lady Montefiore in London.
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