Delectable Seville [pp. 729-739]

1885.] DELEcTABLE SEVILLE. 729
DELECTABLE SEVILLE.
THERE are but three spots, in the world of which I had
formed mental pictures from my reading, which rose to the level
of anticipation when I came to visit them. Venice was one of
these, Naples another, and Seville, delectable Seville, the third.
There is a Spanish proverb which declares, "Who hath not seen
Seville hath not seen a marvel," and I am prepared to own that
who doth not believe that proverb is an unenviable unbeliever.
At first sight it is a disappointment. Glance at it from a railway-car and you will have no wish to stop. But alight and
remain there a few days, and you will find it hard to drag yourself away. The place grows upon you. Each hour reveals new
charms; there is a fascination in the very atmosphere; and in
the end you will catch yourself exclaiming that the pearl of
Andalusia is the fairest gem in the Spanish crown~would be a
priceless ornament to any crown.
The setting of the jewel is not worthy of it-a great plain
covered with grayish grass, clumps of tall, brown-blossomed
agave; a sky metallic in its lustre, blazing and intense; a dim
streak of azure on the horizon indicating the far sierra, and, creeping lazily through the flat, a dull, yellow river. But the city
its~f! Verily, it is a marvel.
Don Juan-I mean the Don Juan of the Tenoris family, linked
to fame by Tirso de Molina, Gliick, and Mozart, not the hero of
Byron's poem-was born here, lived here, and lies under an ivyclad sarcophagus in the ~ardens attached to the Duke de Montpensier's palace. No sweeter nook of earth could he have chosen
for life's dreary pilgrimage, which he made as little dreary as he
well could, if one-half that is said and sung of him be true. FIe
was a sad scapegrace and no pattern to the rising generation,
but he died penitent.
Threading the puzzling maze of Seville streets, one would
fancy that all the ladies were in mourning for him. The dress of -
womankind of the better classes is invariably black; their tiny
feet, coffined in dainty shoes, peep from under a pall of black
skirts; black mantillas float over billows of inky hair, while black
eyes flash with the melancholy fire of funeral torches over the
tremulous tips of black fans. Why they patronize black (which
is a conductor of heat) in this hot climate is a puzzle. Most cer