BRONZE CANDELABRUM.
After the museum we went into the cathedral; the pictures painted by Luca Signorelli for his native town are here. Luca was born at Cortona, and was a pupil of Piero della Francesca. Near the choir is a beautifully carved marble tomb, in which the people believe the Consul Flaminius was buried after the battle of Thrasymene.
We had not time to visit the baptistery opposite, which also contains pictures by Luca and by Fra Angelico. We were anxious to see the view from the church of Santa Margherita, above the town. Her statue stands just outside the cathedral; a little dog crouches at her feet.
Margherita was not a native of Cortona; she lived for pleasure only; on her repentance she entered a Franciscan convent here, and passed a life of charity and holy penitence for her sins. Her conversion is said to have taken place on the sudden death of one of her lovers.
As he left her house, accompanied by his little dog, he was assassinated. The little dog came back to Margherita's house, and by its cries attracted her notice; it then pulled at her gown, till it induced her to follow to where her lover lay dead. For this reason Santa Margherita is always represented with a little dog beside her.
We went along the road past the platform, where there is a fine view over the Chiana valley, and turned in to old San Domenico to see the pictures. The campanile of this church is a picturesque feature of Cortona. We could only see two of the pictures, neither of them very remarkable. Another was being restored, the custode said. The walk from this point up to Santa Margherita was delightful. The sunshine was brilliant, and the air had a delicious touch of autumn crispness. The way beside the wall is steep, but there are constant views over the country, and gradually, as we mounted, Lake Thrasymene revealed itself in pale blue-green loveliness; a projecting hill, however, partly blocks the view, and only allows about half of the lake's grand expanse to be seen. The yellow turf was gay with wild flowers, some of them rare specimens. When we at last reached the church, we were rewarded for our climb.
Santa Margherita was designed and probably built by Niccolo and Giovanni Pisano, but it has been very much restored; the view from its platform is magnificent. In front is a screen of tall cypresses, between which the purple hills show exquisitely. The spacious church originally designed by Niccolo Pisano has been re-modelled, but there is a beautiful monument to Santa Margherita by Giovanni Pisano. Santa Margherita's tomb reminded us of Pope Benedict's at Perugia. The saint lies sleeping with her little dog at her feet; in a bas-relief she yields her soul to angels, who bear it to Heaven.
The Fortezza behind the church is said to command a still finer view, but we were quite satisfied to sit on the flowery turf enjoying the surpassing loveliness below us. Hills and valleys, far-reaching plains, the still lake, and the sky overhead, seemed to vie with one another in beauty, yet to blend into such perfect harmony that the sensation of gazing was one of complete repose.
Down a long, long flight of irregular steps we found our way to the quaint little church of St. Nicholas. While we sat gazing we had watched a woman go down these steps, so we felt sure they would lead us somewhere; they took us to the queerest little up-and-down village imaginable, a village of mendicants; every one begged of us, the children being very pertinacious.
One bright-eyed monkey of a boy, with bare brown legs and feet, and a red cap stuck over one eye, followed us down the broken way, dancing and chattering as he came. All at once he stopped and pointed to three younger children, sitting in a mud pool outside a cottage door, even more ragged and dirty, but quite as bright-looking as he was.