Have I spoken of the sumptuous
carving of the capitals of the columns? At any rate I have left a
thousand beauties without a word. Here I drop the subject. As I took my
parting glance the cathedral had a gleam of golden sunshine in its far
depths, and it seemed to widen and deepen itself, as if to convince me of
my error in saying, yesterday, that it is not very large. I wonder how I
could say it.
After taking leave of the cathedral, I found my way out of another of the
city gates, and soon turned aside into a green lane. . . . . Soon the
lane passed through a hamlet consisting of a few farm-houses, the
shabbiest and dreariest that can be conceived, ancient, and ugly, and
dilapidated, with iron-grated windows below, and heavy wooden shutters on
the windows above,--high, ruinous walls shutting in the courts, and
ponderous gates, one of which was off its hinges. The farm-yards were
perfect pictures of disarray and slovenly administration of home affairs.
Only one of these houses had a door opening on the road, and that was the
meanest in the hamlet.
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