One can only dream.

They were a madman's whim; incredibly rich in marble, and metal, and terra-cotta, paid for, no doubt, from the sweat and blood of this country-side.

Then the young monster who built and furnished them was murdered on the Palatine.

Can't you see the rush of an avenging mob down this steep lane ?--the havoc and the blows--the peasants hacking at the statues and the bronzes--loading their ox-carts perhaps with the plunder--and finally letting in the lake upon the wreck! Well!--somehow like that it must have happened.

The lake swallowed them; and, in spite of all the efforts of the Renaissance people, who sent down divers, the lake has kept them, substantially, till now.