When the multitude have sufficiently recovered the stunning effects of this scene to separate cause and effect, they perceive that every pillar and column from pedestal to chapiter is enwreathed with gorgeous ranunculuses and snowy lilies, mingled with the rich green leaves of the allegro campo, that crowns and garlands of silver leaves and artificial dew-drops are scattered profusely, yet with artistic taste, over the high altar and the various side altars; while pendent from that masterpiece of art--the sculptured ceiling of native juniper--are rich chaplets of gold leaves and gems, seeming as if ready to fall on and crown the heads of the worshippers.
After a short interval, the bishop, in dazzling robes, wearing his jewelled mitre, and followed by a train of priests in gorgeous vestments, is seen standing in front of the high altar, which on this occasion is covered with a white satin cloth, worked in silver, while huge candelabras, inlaid with precious stones, gleam in front of the recesses known as the diaconicum and the prothesis. In the former are kept the vessels belonging to the altar, and in the other the bread and wine used at the celebration of the mass.
A short mass having been performed by priests and choir, the great door is opened, and the people crowding into the Praca are met by the little children and young girls strewing flowers over the streets, by the graceful youths swinging silver censers and filling the ambient air with light columns of costly incense; by bands playing the most inspiriting airs; by masquers and others in ordinary costume sending off rockets and Roman candles, and by hundreds of artisans bearing fire-arms, the sharp report of which, mingling with the booming of cannon, the braying of trumpets, and the soft chimes of bells, filled the air with a most indescribable din.
In a few moments, however, a cloud overshadows the scene--a cloud which comes not silently but with a whirring, joyful noise, and with the beat of fleet pinions. Every one looks up, and behold, there are the doves--doves in hundreds, sent off by nuns, and monks, and other devotees, to proclaim in their broad-winged flight the welcome news that "Christ is risen!"
Having witnessed all this, and while the joyful excitement is still unabated, you enter your home, imagining that nothing of the peculiar usages or customs of a place in which you are a stranger can follow you there, save the sounds which float in through your shaded windows; but an agreeable surprise awaits you. The Madeirans are too gentle and affectionate in their dispositions to forget in a time of such universal joy even the stranger who may differ from them in religion, and, accordingly, you find awaiting you a little girl, neatly dressed, and bearing in her hands a dish covered with a white lace veil. She has been sent by the nuns, and delivers her present with a suitable message.
Uncovering the dish you see a wreath of flowers round the edge, and in the centre a little lamb made of sugar, lying amidst almond comfits of [{278}] every delicate shade of Magenta, blue, and violet. A wreath of sugar-flowers crowns the head of the lamb, and a similar one graces its neck.
With this picturesque gift you may sometimes receive a present of royal and heavenly bacon. These singularly-named dishes are composed of eggs and sugar. The first is passed through a hair sieve, falling in a heap of rings and curls on the dish; the other is made into thick slices, and lies on the dish drowned in sweet syrup.
[ORIGINAL.]