emperor was informed of her enormities, and hastened home to take
vengeance. Having vainly tried all means of conciliation, and
attempted without effect to kill herself, she was slain in a paroxysm
of terror and anguish, by a blow of the executioner's falchion; and
the death of Asiaticus was avenged on the very spot where it
happened.

The gardens of the Pincio are small, but a fairer spot it would be
hard to find anywhere. The grounds are most beautifully laid out, and
so skilfully arranged that they seem of far larger extent than they
really are. Splendid palm-trees, aloes, and cactuses give a tropical
charm to the walks; rare exotics and bloom-laden trees of genial
climes, flashing fountains, and all manner of cultivated beauty,
enliven the scene; while the air blows fresh and invigorating from the
distant hills. From the lofty parapet of the city-wall which bounds it
on one side, you gaze into the green meadows and rich wooded solitudes
of the Borghese grounds, that look like some rural retreat a score of
miles from the city; and from the stone balustrade on the other side
you see all Rome at your feet with its sea of brown houses, and beyond
the picturesque roofs and the hidden river rising up the great mass of
the Vatican buildings and the mighty dome of St. Peter's, which
catches like a mountain peak the last level gold of the sunset, and
flashes it back like an illumination, while all the intermediate view
is in shadow. No wonder that the Pincian Hill is the favourite
promenade of Rome, and that on week-days and Sunday afternoons you see
multitudes of people showing every phase of Roman life, and hundreds
of carriages containing the flower of the Roman aristocracy, with
beautiful horses, and footmen in rich liveries, crowding the piazza
below, ascending the winding road, and driving or walking round
between the palms and the pines, over the garden-paths, to the sound