Upon arriving at the gloomy portal of the convent, with its yellow walls, grated windows, and strong buttresses, upon which the long weeds were waving in the blast like the wild straws in the head of some melancholy maniac, we lifted a heavy knocker, and with it produced some blows which sounded dismally and preternaturally loud amidst the silence within. In answer to our summons, a cavernous, lean, pale face appeared for a second or so at a grating to inspect the intruders, and our exterior probably attesting the fact that no danger was to be apprehended from us, the heavy door was swung open by a poor dilapidated son of religion, in a long serge gown and sandals, who looked so depressed and shy with life-long dulness and superstition, that it was no wonder he could not lift his eyes higher than the knees of his visitors. We then entered an elegant little church with pointed arches, of the florid Gothic style, beneath a _façade_ emblazoned with the arms of Castile and Leon. In the midst of the subdued light of the holy place, there suddenly broke upon us the magnificent tomb of Juan II. and Queen Isabella of Portugal, formed of white marble. It is truly wonderful that in the recesses of these lonely and decaying walls, in this forlorn spot of earth, inhabited only by five wretched and poverty-stricken monks, are seen objects of interest which, in their marvellous beauty, are unequalled, perhaps, in the world. Executed in pure Carrara marble, octagonal in shape, and raised about six feet from the pavement, with a circumference of nearly thirty-six feet, the tomb of Juan and Isabella perfectly tortures the eye by the amazing intricacy of its detail. Sixteen lions, bearing the royal escutcheons, stand in pairs at each angle; groups of innumerable statuettes, each individual a masterpiece of itself, appear resting under filigree canopies, and within a perfect network of marble lace of infinite delicacy; while festoons and bowers of feathery foliage, fruits and flowers, support birds and insects treading in their marble imagery with the springy touch of life. The statues of the royal pair lie side by side, robed in drapery which might be the finest needlework were it not stone.