Nothing can be gayer or more happily expressed in its way than the
Centaur, which Dr. Moore, like Dr. Young, finds _not_ fabulous; while
the brute runs away with the man, and Cupid keeps urging him forward.
The fawn nursing Bacchus when a baby, is another semi-human figure of
just and high estimation; and that very famous composition for which
Cavalier Bernini has executed a mattress infinitely softer to the eye
than any real one I ever found in _his_ country, has here an apartment
appropriated to itself.
From monsters the eye turns of its own accord towards Nero, and here is
an incomparable one of about ten years old, in whose face I vainly
looked for the seeds of parricide, and murderous tyranny; but saw only a
sturdy boy, who might have been made an honest man perhaps, had not the
rod been spared by his old tutor, whose lenity is repaid by death here
in the next room. It is a relief to look upon the smiling Zingara; her
lively character is exquisitely touched, her face the only one perhaps
where Bernini could not go beyond the proper idea of arch waggery and
roguish cunning, adorned with beauty that must have rendered its
possessor, while living, irresistible. His David is scarcely young
enough for a ruddy shepherd swain; he seems too muscular, and confident
of his own strength; _this_ fellow could have worn Saul's armour well
enough.
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