A little before starting I accompanied Rustcoin down one of the by
streets to make a call, and whilst, waiting for him to return, I amused
myself by looking into an antiquary's shop window. There were some
ancient Roman coins, some rusty Roman armour, pieces of Etruscan
pottery, antique lamps and fragments of statuary. As I stood gazing at
these curiosities for some considerable time, the antiquary bowed me in,
giving me to understand that I was at liberty to look over the contents
of his shop without being obliged to buy. He saw that I was an
Englishman, and evidently had an eye to business. He showed me some fragments of Roman tombs bearing a portion of an
inscription, some bronze pans, and other instruments used for
sacrifices, some spearheads, some ancient mosaic, etc., etc. I was soon
attracted by a plate of antique seals, and was poring over them with a
lens. "Ah, signor," said the man, "I see you appreciate these gems of art. That ring that you are looking at now was found entire in a place
underground, where the vestal virgins used to be buried alive when
convicted of unchastity." "What will you take for it?" I asked. "Well, considering that it is such a fine gem of art, sir, I could not
ask less than four hundred scudi." "Four hundred scudi!" I exclaimed. "Why, that is four thousand pauls,"
said I. "Precisely so, signor." "Come, come," said I, pretending to be more knowing than I actually was. "I see you take me for an Englishman. Well, if I am an Englishman, I am
one who understands the value of these things, for I have had dealings
before in things of this sort." Now, I had not the slightest idea of the prices that these articles
fetched, but knowing that it was perfectly necessary to beat down an
Italian in a bargain, I took it for granted that he had asked just
double, and said, "Come, now, without wasting time in further parley, I
will give you the half of what you ask--two hundred scudi and not a jot
more," (being 40 pounds sterling.) "Impossible, signor," said the man. "Oh, very well, then," said I, "I wish you a good morning," and I made
towards the door. "Stay, signor," said the shopman; "let us say three hundred and fifty
scudi; it is dirt cheap, and if I were not in immediate want of money I
would not let it go at such a price." "No," said I, walking out of the shop; "you know my terms; if you agree
to these, so much the better for you, if not, _Addio_," and off I
walked. I had got about half way down the street when the man ran out after me. "Signor, only three hundred scudi; this is for the last time, think of
that! It is a sin to let such a bargain slip." "No, no," said I, "not even for two hundred and ten. I have said two
hundred scudi, and I even grudge that, yet if you will take it----"

"Not even for two hundred and ten!" repeated the man. "O Gesu Maria!" added he, slapping his forehead. "You seem anxious to get rid of it, my friend," said I, half-quizzingly. "No, signor," replied he, "I can assure you it cuts me to the heart to
part with such a gem, but I am a poor man with a large family, and I
want money, otherwise I would not sell it for three times the amount." "Well, then, if you want money," said I, dryly, "the best thing you can
do is to assent to my terms, for I shall certainly give no more." He seemed to reflect a little, and then with a shrug said: "_Ebbene_, as
the signor wishes; but it is a dead loss to me; _you_, signor, are the
winner, not I." So I paid him the money, and walked off with the ring on my finger the
same that I wear to this day, gentlemen. Here it is. There is no doubt
that it is a very excellent specimen of Græco-Roman art, and is most
elaborately cut. I have not the slightest doubt, however, that I paid
enough and more than enough for it, for as I followed the man with my
eyes, I noticed an avaricious chuckle on his face, as an Italian shopman
may be supposed to wear at having bamboozled an Englishman. By this time my friend Rustcoin returned. I showed him my purchase, at
which he went into raptures. I told him that I wished to visit the
catacombs that morning, and therefore could not accompany him further. He advised me to wait till the morrow, and that we should go together,
but I had inwardly vowed that morning that go I would, and nothing
should prevent me; so telling Rustcoin that we should meet at dinner, I
hailed a carriage and drove off to the church of St. Sebastian. It is a comparatively modern church, built upon the site of the ancient
basilisk supposed to have been erected by Constantine, and consecrated
by St. Silvester, was renewed by the Pope San Domaso, and since
repeatedly restored, being at length rebuilt in the year 1611. On my arrival I found several carriages waiting outside. I entered the
church, and there was a party of about a dozen English people, who had
likewise come to visit the catacombs. I joined the party, and we descended a flight of steps, each of us
bearing in our hands a taper, or rather tall, narrow candle. We were
conducted by a lean, emaciated monk, who looked as if he had lived upon
nothing but by inhaling the damp air of the catacombs. As we descended,
the first object shown us was a bust of St. Sebastian by Bernini, over
the tomb of the saint, and near was an altar under which was interred
the body of St. Lucine. As we walked along single file through these long dark corridors, the
roofs of which were every now and then so low that we were obliged to
stoop, we were shown the graves of saints and martyrs who had been
entombed within the walls, every now and then arriving at some little
chapel, in the walls of which three or four popes had been buried. The place where the altar had stood was also carved in the rock. Here we
came across a tomb with an inscription, there upon some rude drawings on
the wall by the early Christians, representing various sacred subjects. Impatient at having to stand still and listen to the explanation of the
monk who accompanied us and to hear the questions of this knot of
English people, I felt an incontrollable impulse to strike out for
myself into some new track, not meaning to content myself with the mere
fashionable route shown to foreigners. I considered that I had not come there merely to have a peep at these
subterranean vaults, for the sake of being able to say when I returned
to England that I had seen the catacombs, but intended whilst I was
about it to investigate these mysterious haunts thoroughly and
conscientiously, for the sake of discovering, if possible, some
inscriptions or other relics worthy of note that I might describe in my
great archæological work, and thus hand my name down to posterity. The investigation of some unknown region, especially if accompanied by a
spice of danger, has always been with me a passion. I longed to be able
to do something that nobody yet had done.