Of the Buildings of Justinian

by Procopius

CHURCH OF S^T SOPHIA.

Specimen of Details of Capitals &c. of S^t. Sophia
From Salzenburg

The church consequently presented a most glorious spectacle, extraordinary to those who beheld it, and altogether incredible to those who are told of it. In height it rises to the very heavens, and overtops the neighbouring buildings like a ship anchored among them: it rises above the rest of the city, which it adorns, while it forms a part of it, and it is one of its beauties that being a part of the city, and growing out of it, it stands so high above it, that from it the whole city can be beheld as from a watch-tower. Its length and breadth are so judiciously arranged that it appears to be both long and wide without being disproportioned. It is distinguished by indescribable beauty, for it excels both in its size and in the harmony of its proportion, having no part excessive and none deficient; being more magnificent than ordinary buildings, and much more elegant than those which are out of proportion. It is singularly full of light and sunshine; you would declare that the place is not lighted by the sun from without, but that the rays are produced within itself, such an abundance of light is poured into this church. Now the front of the church (that is to say the part towards the rising sun, where the sacred mysteries are performed in honour of God) is built as follows. The building rises from the ground, not in a straight line, but set back somewhat obliquely, and retreating in the middle into the form of a half-circle, a form which those who are learned in these matters call semi-cylindrical, rising perpendicularly. The upper part of this work ends in the fourth part of a sphere, and above it another crescent-shaped structure is raised upon the adjacent parts of the building, admirable for its beauty, but causing terror by the apparent weakness of its construction; for it appears not to rest upon a secure foundation, but to hang dangerously over the heads of those within, although it is really supported with especial firmness and safety. On each side of these there are columns standing upon the floor, which themselves also are not placed in a straight line, but arranged with an inward curve of semicircular shape, one beyond another, like the dancers in a chorus. These columns support above them a crescent-shaped structure. Opposite this east wall is built another wall containing the entrances, and upon either side of it also stand columns with stonework above them in a half-circle exactly like those previously described. In the midst of the church are four masses of stone called piers, two on the north and two on the south side, opposite and equal to one another, having four columns in the central space between each. These piers are composed of large stones fitted together, the stones being carefully selected and cleverly jointed into one another by the masons, reaching to a great height. Looking at them you would compare them to perpendicular cliffs. Upon these four arches rise in a quadrilateral form. The extremities of these arches join one another in pairs, and rest at their ends upon these piers, while the other part of them rise to a great height, and are suspended in the air. Two of these arches, that is, those towards the rising and the setting sun, are constructed over the empty air, but the remainder have under them some stonework, with small columns. Now above these arches is raised a circular building of a spherical form through which the light of day first shines; for the building, I imagine, overtops the whole country, and has small openings left on purpose, so that the places where these intervals in the construction occur may serve for conductors of light. Thus far I imagine the building is not incapable of being described, even by a weak and feeble tongue. As the arches are arranged in a quadrangular figure, the stonework between them takes the shape of a triangle; the lower angle of each triangle, being compressed between the shoulders of the arches, is slender, while the upper part becomes wider as it rises in the space between them, and ends against the circle which rises from thence, forming there its remaining angles. A spherical-shaped dome standing upon this circle makes it exceedingly beautiful; from the lightness of the building it does not appear to rest upon a solid foundation, but to cover the place beneath as though it were suspended from heaven by the fabled golden chain. All these parts surprisingly joined to one another in the air, suspended one from another, and resting only on that which is next to them, form the work into one admirably harmonious whole, which spectators do not care to dwell upon for long in the mass, as each individual part attracts the eye and turns it to itself. The sight causes men to constantly change their point of view, and the spectator can nowhere point to any part which he admires more than the rest, but having viewed the art which appears everywhere, men contract their eyebrows as they look at each point, and are unable to comprehend such workmanship, but always depart thence stupified through their incapacity to comprehend it. So much for this.