When the procession was housed again, we went off and forgot it in the
gardens of the Alcazar. But I must not begin yet on the gardens of the
Alcazar. We went to them every day, as we did to the cathedral, but we
did not see them until our second morning in Seville. We gave what was
left from the first morning in the cathedral to a random exploration of
the streets and places of the city. There was, no doubt, everywhere some
touch of the bravery of our square of San Fernando, where the public
windows were hung with crimson tapestries and brocades in honor of St.
Raphael; but his holiday did not make itself molestively felt in the
city's business or pleasure. Where we could drive we drove, and where we
must we walked, and we walked of course through the famous Calle de las
Sierpes, because no one drives there. As a rule no woman walks there,
and naturally there were many women walking there, under the eyes of the
popular cafes and aristocratic clubs which principally abound in Las
Sierpes, for it is also the street of the principal shops, though it is
not very long and is narrower than many other streets of Seville. It has
its name from so commonplace an origin as the sign over a tavern door,
with some snakes painted on it; but if the example of sinuosity had been
set it by prehistoric serpents, there were scores of other streets which
have bettered its instruction.
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