It is a prospect that inspires the spectator. Fair, sunny, fruitful Andalusia stretches around for league upon league, under a burning blue sky. The air is clear; there is scarcely a trace of smoke from the myriad chimneys of the city. No town could be brighter and cleaner. We are above the brown hawks that nest in the niches of the Cathedral. They float on outspread wings over the buttresses. The passengers in the streets are like specks; the trees in the Court of the Oranges are but shrubs. It is one of the finest panoramas in Spain. One is reluctant to descend from this breezy platform, and to turn one's back upon the fine bird's-eye view of Seville and the surrounding landscape. It is a misfortune that sun, wind and rain have almost expunged the frescoes that decorate the niches of the Giralda. They were the work of Luis de Vargas, who painted the altar-piece in the Chapel of the Nativity in the Cathedral. Vargas was a pupil of Perino del Vaga in Italy. One of the paintings on the Giralda represented the Saints of Seville, St. Justa and St. Rufina, who protect the tower from harm, and other subjects were scenes in the lives of saints and martyrs. Vargas also executed the fresco of Christ bearing the Cross, or the _Calle de Amargura_, on the outside of Patio de los Naranjas. The picture was restored by Vasco Pereyra, in 1594. We read of Luis de Vargas that he was extremely devout. He practised austerities and mortifications, and slept with a coffin by his bedside, to remind him of the insecurity of this earthly life. The ascetic artist was born in Seville, in 1502, and died there about the year 1568. Like the monument of London, and many other high towers, the Giralda has often been used by suicides. A number of despairing persons have thrown themselves from its summit. [Illustration: The Giralda] CHAPTER V _The Cathedral_ 'How reverend is the face of this tall pile, Whose ancient pillars rear their marble heads To bear aloft its arched and ponderous roof, By its own weight made steadfast and immovable, Looking tranquillity.'--WILLIAM CONGREVE. 'Let us build such a huge and splendid temple that succeeding generations of men will say that we were mad.' So said the pious originators of Seville Cathedral, in the year 1401. After one hundred years, the temple was still unfinished, and to this day masons are at work upon the dome. When San Fernando captured the city of Seville from the Moors, and made it his capital, the Mosque, which stood on the site of the Cathedral, was consecrated to the service of the Christian faith. It was used for Catholic worship until its disrepair became a reproach. Then the Chapter decided to erect a worthier fane, one which would astonish posterity. The Cathedral should be huge and magnificent, rivalling in its area all the other cathedrals of Spain. Toledo Cathedral is 'rich'; Salamanca, 'strong'; León, 'beautiful.' The Cathedral of Seville is called the 'great.'