622 ANDALUSIAN SKETCHES. 



merited silver baton, and held up to general view and adoration. 

 " The Host" was followed by a large body of priests, holding candles 

 of various-coloured wax, and singing in musical tones of deep bass, 

 the affecting hymn for the dead. Now came the corpse, laid upon the 

 bier, dressed in its shroud, the face and hands uncovered the latter 

 clasped as in prayer. The rear of the procession was formed of the 

 immediate friends of the deceased, all carrying lighted tapers, and a 

 crowd of persons of both sexes, chiefly of the lower class, furnished 

 with flaming torches. I moved onward with these into the church, 

 witnessed the solemn service, and withdrew unobserved. 



The next day I commenced my inspection of the many fine collec- 

 tions of pictures to be found in the numerous convents and churches, 

 as well as in private houses, and I had the gratification of seeing 

 some rare productions of the Spanish school in the galleries of a gen- 

 tleman named Bravo, and of an English resident, Mr. W . 



During the week I was thus occupied, I witnessed a curious scene in 

 the theatre. The words of " II Barbiere de Sevilla" had been ren- 

 dered from the Italian into Spanish, and the opera represented for 

 the first time to the Sevillanos. Rossini's music was admirably exe- 

 cuted by a scientific orchestra, but the singers were of mediocre 

 talent. The characters were, however, most correctly dressed, not 

 of course in the ridiculous costume termed Spanish on our London 

 stage. I should, however, except from the term mediocre, the per- 

 former to whom the part of Figaro was assigned. I omitted to note 

 his name, which, indeed, deserved to be remembered he was 

 super-excellent. The overture, and the first act, were listened to 

 with almost breathless silence, by a crowded audience. When the 

 drop-scene fell, they could no longer contain their feelings of 

 delight. The men expressed themselves in loud vivas and deafening 

 shouts ; the ladies, by the waving of scarfs, the rapid opening and 

 shutting of fans, and approving glances from bright pleasure-speak- 

 ing eyes. As the performance proceeded, the enthusiasm increased, 

 and when the opera was ended the noise was tremendous. Some of 

 the audience, thinking the author and composer must be a Spaniard, 

 and in Seville, called for him. Had Rossini been present to answer 

 the call, his reception, I am certain, would have delighted him. 

 This scene was the more remarkable, as it is not the custom in the 

 theatres of Spain to express approbation, except in a noiseless excla- 

 mation of " bueno." 



I was sallying forth from my fonda one morning, when I en- 

 countered Padre Mendez. " I am come to seek you, my son," said 

 he ; " I am rejoiced to find you still here. Vamos. Let us go to 

 Dona Isabel. She would be more unhappy than she is, if you had 

 left us before she had seen you again. Amalia, too, is better she 

 desires to thank her protector." I would fain have been spared this 

 interview, but the priest would take no denial, and I accompanied 

 him to the house. Dona Isabel received me cordially. She was 

 quite collected, spoke with clearness and calmness, but in tones 

 of deep emotion, as she returned me thanks. I had, on enter- 

 ing the apartment, ascertained, by a hasty glance, that the daughter 

 was also there. She was seated upon a low chair, near to a window, 



