"It happened in the city of Ilerda, in Catalonia, that a good man, named John, who was very devout to St. Francis, had to pass through a street, in which certain men were lying in wait to kill him and ... wounded him with so many dagger-strokes as to leave him without hope of life.... The poor man's cure was considered impossible by all the physicians.... And, behold, as the sufferer lay alone on his bed, frequently calling on the name of Francis ... one stood by him in the habit of a Friar Minor, who, as it seemed to him, came in by a window, and calling him by his name, said, 'Because thou hast trusted in me, behold, the Lord will deliver thee.'"
The artist having here an incident less difficult to deal with than visions and dreams, betrays a certain humour in the stout figure of the doctor, who, as he leaves the room, turns to the two women as though saying, "He has begun to pray, as if that can help him when I have failed to cure him." Meantime St. Francis, escorted by two tall and graceful angels with great wings, is laying his hands upon the wounded man. Here, as in most of these latter frescoes, a single scene is divided into more than one episode; this seems to us to be the great difference between them and the works of Giotto, where the eye is immediately attracted towards the principal figure or figures, the others only serving to complete the composition.
27. The last Confession of the Woman of Benevento.
"... a certain woman who had a special devotion to St. Francis, went the way of all flesh. Now, all the clergy being assembled round the corpse to keep the accustomed vigils, and say the usual psalms and prayers, suddenly that woman rose on her feet, in presence of them all, on the bier where she lay, and calling to her one of the priests ... 'Father,' she said, 'I wish to confess. As soon as I was dead, I was sent to a dreadful dungeon, because I had never confessed a certain sin which I will now make known to you. But St. Francis, whom I have ever devoutly served, having prayed for me, I have been suffered to return to the body, that having revealed that sin, I may be made worthy of eternal life.' ... She made her confession, therefore, trembling to the priest, and having received absolution, quietly lay down on the bier, and slept peacefully in the Lord."
The legend is dramatic and the artist has not failed to make us feel the great sadness and solemnity of the scene. A moment more, and the group of people to the left will come forward to carry the woman away for burial while the relations weep most bitterly; they stand aside with heads bowed in grief, for already the presence of death is felt. Only the sorrow of the child, who stretches out his arms, has passed away upon seeing her rise to speak with the priest. Very tall and slender are the figures of the women, bending and swaying together like flowers in a gentle breeze.
28. St. Francis releases Peter of Alesia from Prison.
"When Pope Gregory IX, was sitting in the chair of St. Peter, a certain man named Peter, of the city of Alesia, on an accusation of heresy, was carried to Rome, and, by command of the same Pontiff, was given in custody to the Bishop of Tivoli. He, having been charged to keep him in safety ... bound him with heavy chains and imprisoned him in a dark dungeon.... This man began to call with many prayers and tears upon St. Francis ... beseeching him to have mercy upon him.... About twilight on the vigil of his feast, St. Francis mercifully appeared to him in prison, and, calling him by his name, commanded him immediately to arise.... Then, by the power of the presence of the holy man, he beheld the fetters fall broken from his feet, and the doors of the prison were unlocked without anyone to open them, so that he could go forth unbound and free."
Everything here gives the impression of height; the tall slim figures, the high doorway, and the slender tower and arches. St. Francis is seen flying up to the skies with the same swift motion the artist has given to the figure of St. Nicholas in the Lower Church, and the "Greek Chorus" to the left serves to show surprise at the unusual occurrence of a prisoner suddenly emerging from his prison with broken fetters in his hands.
None should leave the church without looking at the stalls in the choir; they are by Domenico da San Severino, made in 1501, by order, as an inscription tells us, of Francesco Sansone, General of the franciscan order, and friend of Sixtus IV. The artist only took ten years to execute this really wonderful work; the intarsia figures of the stalls in pale yellow wood, most of them fancy portraits of the companions of St. Francis, are remarkable for their form and character. They betray, in the opinion of Mr Berenson, Venetian influences of Crivelli and of the school of the Vivarini.