the
Resurrection from the tomb; and side by side with that is painted
Hell. Paradise occupies another portion of the chapel. On each side
of the window, beneath the Christ of Fra Angelico, are delineated
scenes from the Judgment. A wilderness of arabesques, enclosing
medallion portraits of poets and chiaroscuro episodes selected from
Dante and Ovid, occupies the lower portions of the chapel walls
beneath the great subjects enumerated above; and here Signorelli has
given free vein to his fancy and his mastery over anatomical design,
accumulating naked human figures in the most fantastic and audacious
variety of pose.

Look at the 'Fulminati'--so the group of wicked men are called whose
death precedes the Judgment. Huge naked angels, sailing upon vanlike
wings, breathe columns of red flame upon a crowd of wicked men and
women. In vain these sinners avoid the descending fire. It pursues
and fells them to the earth. As they fly, their eyes are turned
towards the dreadful faces in the air. Some hurry through a portico,
huddled together, falling men, and women clasping to their arms dead
babies scorched with flame. One old man stares straightforward,
doggedly awaiting death. One woman scowls defiance as she dies. A
youth has twisted both hands in his hair, and presses them against
his ears to drown the screams and groans and roaring thunder. They
trample upon prostrate forms already stiff. Every shape and attitude
of sudden terror and despairing guilt are here. Next comes the
Resurrection. Two angels of the Judgment--gigantic figures, with the
plumeless wings that Signorelli loves--are seen upon the clouds.
They blow trumpets with all their might, so that each naked muscle
seems strained to make the blast, which bellows through the air and
shakes the sepulchres beneath the earth. Thence rise the dead. All
are naked, and a few are seen like skeletons. With painful effort
they struggle from the soil that clasps them round, as if obeying an
irresistible command. Some have their heads alone above the ground.
Others wrench their limbs from the clinging earth; and as each man
rises, it closes under him. One would think that they were being
born again from solid clay, and growing into form with labour. The
fully risen spirits stand and walk about, all occupied with the
expectation of the Judgment; but those that are yet in the act of
rising, have no thought but for the strange and toilsome process of
this second birth. Signorelli