Taking our departure from the site of the Porta Capena, we are reminded that it was at the Porta Capena that the survivor of the Horatii met his sister, who had been betrothed to one of the Curiatii, and who, when she saw her brother carrying the cloak of her dead lover, which she had wrought with her own hand, upbraided him in a passion of tears for his cruelty.  Enraged at the sight of her grief, Horatius drew his sword and stabbed her to the heart, crying, “So perish the Roman maiden that shall weep for her country’s enemy!” The tomb of the hapless maiden long stood on the spot.  It was at the Porta Capena also that the senate and people of Rome gave to Cicero a splendid ovation on his return from banishment.  Numerous historical buildings clustered round this gate—­a temple of Mars, of Hercules, of Honour and Virtue, and a fountain dedicated to Mercury, described by Ovid; but not a trace of these now remains.

On the left, at the back of the Coelian Hill, is a valley covered with verdure, wonderfully quiet and rural-looking, though within the walls of a city.  In this valley once stood the famous grove where Numa Pompilius had his mysterious interviews with the nymph Egeria.  A spring still bubbles forth beside a cluster of farm-buildings, which is said to be the veritable Fountain of Egeria.  The temple of the Muses, who were Egeria’s counsellors, was close by; and the name of the gate of the city, Porta Capena, was in all likelihood a corruption of Camena, the Latin name for Muse, and was not derived, as some suppose, from the city of Capua.  The spot outside the present walls, formerly visited as the haunt of the fabled nymph, before the discovery of the site of the Capena gate fixed its true position—­beautiful and romantic as it is—­was only the nymphaeum of some Roman villa, used as a place of retirement and coolness in the oppressive heat of summer.  Of all the legends of Rome’s earliest days, none is more poetical than that which speaks of the visits of Numa to this mysterious being, whose counsels in these sacred shades were of such value to him in the management of his kingdom, and who dictated to him the whole religious institutions and civil legislation of Rome.  Whatever historical basis it may have, the legend has at least a core of moral truth.  It illustrates the necessity of solitude and communion with Higher Powers as a preparation for the solemn duties of life.  All who have influenced men permanently for good have drawn their inspiration from lonely haunts sacred to meditation—­ever since Moses saw the burning bush in the desert, and Elijah bowed his strong soul to the majesty of the still small voice at Horeb.