runs a broad band of foliage, half Gothic, half
renaissance in character. Beyond these again are the large shafts with
their ogee trefoiled arch, which though they spoil the beauty of the
design, at the same time do more than all the rest to give that strange
character which it possesses. These shafts are much larger than the
others, indeed they are made up of several round mouldings twisted
together each of the same size as the shaft next them. Base and capital
are of course also much larger, and there is only one ring ornament,
above which the twisting is reversed. All the mouldings are carved, some
with spirals, some with bundles of leaves bound round by a rope, with
bunches of grape-like fruit between. The twisted mouldings are carried
up beyond the capitals to form a huge trefoil turning up at the top to a
large and rather clumsy finial. In this case the upright shafts at the
sides are not twisted as in the other doors; they are square in plan,
interrupted by a moulding at the level of the capitals, below which they
are carved on each face with large square flowers, while above they have
a round moulding at the angles. At the top are plain Gothic pinnacles;
behind which rises the enclosing arch, due doubtless to the restoration
after the earthquake. The gable-shaped moulding runs from the base of
these pinnacles to the top of the ogee, and forms the boundary between
the stonework and the plaster.

Such then is the Manoelino in its earlier forms, and there can be little
doubt that it was gradually evolved from a union of late Gothic and
Moorish, owing some peculiarities such as twisted shafts, rounded
mouldings, and coupled windows to Moorish, and to Gothic others such as
its flowery finials. The curious outlines of its openings may have been
derived, the simpler from Gothic, the more complex from Moorish. Steps
are wanting to show whence came the sudden growth of naturalism, but it
too probably came from late Gothic, which had already provided crockets,
finials and carved bands of foliage so that it needed but little change
to connect these into one growing plant. Sometimes these Manoelino
designs, as in the palace at Cintra, are really beautiful when the parts
are small and do not straggle all over the surface, but sometimes as in
the Marvilla door at Santarem, or in that of the convent of the Madre de
Deus at Lisbon, the mouldings are so clumsy and the design so sprawling
and ill-connected, that they can only be