From his former visit, he was acquainted with the Casa di Meleagro, had
not yet gone there this time, however, but had merely stopped briefly in
the Museo Nazionale of Naples before the wall paintings of Meleager and
his Arcadian huntress companion, Atalanta, which had been found in the
Strada di Mercurio in that house, and after which the latter had been
named. Yet as he now again acquired the ability to move and walked
toward it, he began to doubt whether it really bore its name after the
slayer of the Caledonian boar. He suddenly recalled a Greek poet,
Meleager, who, to be sure, had probably lived about a century before the
destruction of Pompeii. A descendant of his, however, might have come
here and built the house for himself. That agreed with something else
that had awakened in his memory, for he remembered his supposition, or
rather a definite conviction, that Gradiva had been of Greek descent. To
be sure there mingled with his idea the figure of Atalanta as Ovid had
pictured it in his _Metamorphoses_:
—her floating vest
A polished buckle clasped—her careless locks
In simple knot were gathered—
_Trans. by_ Henry King.
He could not recall the verses word for word, but their content was
present in his mind; and from his store of knowledge was added the fact
that Cleopatra was the name of the young wife of Œneus’ son, Meleager.
More probably this had nothing to do with him, but with the Greek poet,
Meleager. Thus, under the glowing sun of the Campagna, there was a
mythological-literary-historical-archæological juggling in his head.
When he had passed the house of Castor and Pollux and that of the
Centaur, he stood before the Casa di Meleagro from whose threshold there
looked up at him, still discernible, the inlaid greeting “Ave.” On the
wall of the vestibule, Mercury was handing Fortuna a pouch filled with
money; that probably indicated, allegorically, the riches and other
fortunate circumstances of the former dweller. Behind this opened up the
inner court, the centre of which was occupied by a marble table
supported by three griffins.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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