rowed as it receded by the gradations of its mouldings,
adorned by statues of apostles, under open-worked canopies, and by
shields emblazoned with lions and castles. On the pillar dividing the
doorway stood Jesus in kingly crown and mantle, thin and drawn out,
with the look of emaciation and misery that the imagination of
the Middle Ages conceived necessary for the expression of Divine
sublimity. In the tympanum a relievo represented the Virgin surrounded
by angels, robed in the habit of St. Ildefonso, a pious legend
repeated in various parts of the building as though it were one of its
chief glories.

On one side was the doorway called "de la Torre,"[1] on the other side
that called "de los Escribanos,"[2] for by it entered in former days
the guardians of public religion to take the oath to fulfil the duties
of their office. Both were enriched with stone statues on the jambs,
and by wreaths of little figures, foliage, and emblems that unrolled
themselves among the mouldings till they met at the summit of the
arch.

[Footnote 1: Of the Tower.]

[Footnote 2: Of the Scribes.]

Above these three doorways with their exuberant Gothic rose the second
storey of Greco-Romano and almost modern construction, causing Gabriel
the same annoyance as would a discordant trumpet interrupting a
symphony. Jesus and the twelve apostles, all life size, seated at the
table, each under his own canopied niche, could be seen above the
central porch, shut in by the two tower-like buttresses which divided
the front into three parts. Beyond, two rows of arcades of inferior
design, belonging to the Italian palace, extended as far as those
under which Gabriel had so often played as a child when living in the
house of the bell-ringer.

The riches of the Church, thought Luna, were a misfortune for art; in
a poorer church the uniformity of the ancient front would have been
preserved. But, then, the Archbishop of Toledo had eleven millions of
yearly revenue, and the Chapter as many more; they did not know what
to do with their money, so started works and made reconstructions,
and the decadent art produced monstrosities like that one of the Last
Supper.

Above, again, rose the third storey, two great arches that lighted the
large rose of the central nave. The whole was crowned by a balustrade
of open-worked stone following the sinuosities of the frontage, between
the two salient masses that guarded it, the tower and the Musarabe
chapel.

Gabri