to the chamber of horrors.

After breakfast, we went to the Barberini Library, passing through the
vast hall, which occupies the central part of the palace. It is the most
splendid domestic hall I have seen, eighty feet in length at least, and
of proportionate breadth and height; and the vaulted ceiling is entirely
covered, to its utmost edge and remotest corners, with a brilliant
painting in fresco, looking like a whole heaven of angelic people
descending towards the floor. The effect is indescribably gorgeous. On
one side stands a Baldacchino, or canopy of state, draped with scarlet
cloth, and fringed with gold embroidery; the scarlet indicating that the
palace is inhabited by a cardinal. Green would be appropriate to a
prince. In point of fact, the Palazzo Barberini is inhabited by a
cardinal, a prince, and a duke, all belonging to the Barberini family,
and each having his separate portion of the palace, while their servants
have a common territory and meeting-ground in this noble hall.

After admiring it for a few minutes, we made our exit by a door on the
opposite side, and went up the spiral staircase of marble to the library,
where we were received by an ecclesiastic, who belongs to the Barberini
household, and, I believe, was born in it. He is a gentle, refined,
quiet-looking man, as well he may be, having spent all his life among
these books, where few people intrude, and few cares can come. He showed
us a very old Bible in parchment, a specimen of the earliest printing,
beautifully ornamented with pictures, and some monkish illuminations of
indescribable delicacy and elaboration. No artist could afford to
produce such work, if the life that he thus lavished on one sheet of
parchment had any value to him, either for what could be done or enjoyed
in it. There are about eight thousand volumes in this library, and,
judging by their outward aspect, the collection must be curious and