LE STUFE DI NERONE. 227 



something refreshing in it ; and,, allured by the anti- 

 cipation of a plunge in some cool fountain, perhaps 

 received in marble basins under vaulted roofs worthy 

 of imperial magnificence, we were tempted from our 

 shady seclusion, and set forth in quest of the pro- 

 mised indulgence. The day was blazing hot, and 

 anxiously did we look forward to what we hoped 

 would be some gelid refuge from the burning sun- 

 shine. The reader will therefore appreciate our 

 feelings, when, on reaching our destination, the so- 

 called " Baths of Nero ' ' (Le stufe di Nerone is their 

 proper designation) were boiling waters somewhere 

 in the bowels of the earth, which we were called upon 

 to visit. A low-browed cavern opening on the shore 

 steamed like a laundry upon washing-day, and, cer- 

 tainly, anything but realized our pleasurable anticipa- 

 tions. However, there we were ; and, as the stoves 

 of Nero were declared well worthy of inspection, we 

 prepared for the exploit. 



We entered first a sort of ante-cave exceedingly 

 like the entrance to some of the caverns about Mat- 

 lock in Derbyshire, and there we found our guide, 

 that was to be, into the realms below a strange old 

 man a very Charon in his looks a sort of Charon 

 parboiled. Here we were told to strip ourselves quite 

 naked to the waist, and, after obeying this direction, 

 were furnished with a candle in one hand, and a 

 basket containing a couple of eggs in the other, and 

 thus accoutred were ready for our subterranean ex- 

 plorations. On opening an inner door, the steam 

 burst forth as if from the spout of a teakettle. Our 

 guide went first, assuring us that if we stooped so as 

 to avoid the upper stratum of vapour, we should suffer 



