We Were Of One Mind About Driving Without Delay To The Famous Group
Which Is Without Rival On The Earth, Though There May Be Associated
Edifices In The Red Planet Mars That Surpass The Cathedral, The Leaning
Tower, The Baptistery, And The Campo Santo At Pisa.
What genius it was
imagined placing them in the pleasant meadow where they sit, just beyond
the city streets, I do not know, but it was inspiration beyond any
effect of mere taste, and it commanded my worship as much the last as
the first time.
The meadow still swims round them and breaks in a foam
of daisies at their feet; for I take it that it is always mid-April
there, and that the grass is as green and the sun as yellow on it as the
afternoon we saw it. The sacred edifices are as golden as the light on
them, and there is such a joyous lift in the air that it is a wonder
they do not swing loose from their foundations and soar away into the
celestial blue. For travellers in our willing mood there was, of course,
the predestined cicerone waiting for us at the door of the cathedral,
who would fix no price for the pleasure he was born to do us, yet still
consented to take more than twice that he ought to have had at parting.
But he was worth the money; he was worth quite two francs, and, though
he was not without the fault of his calling and would have cumbered us
with instruction, I will not blame him, for after a moment I perceived
that his intelligence was such that I might safely put my hands in my
pocket on my shut guide-book and follow him from point to point without
fear of missing anything worth noting. Among the things worthiest
noting, I saw, as if I had never seen them before, the unforgettable,
forgotten Andrea del Sartos, especially the St. Agnes, in whose face you
recognize the well-known features of the painter's wife, but with a
gentler look than they usually wore in his Madonnas, perhaps because he
happened to study these from that difficult lady when she was in her
least celestial moods. Besides the masterpieces of other masters, there
is a most noble So-doma, which the great Napoleon carried away to Paris
and which the greater French people afterward restored. At every step in
the beautiful temple you may well pause, for it abounds in pictures and
sculptures, the least of which would enrich St. Peter's at Rome beyond
the proudest effect of its poverty-stricken grandeur. Ghirlandajo,
Michelangelo, Gaddo Gaddi, John of Bologna - the names came back to me
out of a past of my own almost as remote as theirs, while our guide
repeated them, in their relation to the sculptures or pictures or
architecture, with those of lesser lights of art, and that school of
Giotto, of all whose frescos once covering its walls the fire of three
hundred years ago has left a few figures clinging to one of the pillars,
faint and uncertain as the memories of my own former visits to the
church.
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