VI
As a contrast to this violent scene which was not so wholly violent but
that it was relieved by a boy teasing a cat with his cap in the
foreground, and the sweet singing of canaries in the windows of the
houses near, I may commend the Casa de los Venerables, ecclesiastics
somehow related to the cathedral and having their tranquil dwelling not
far from it. The street we took from the Duke of Alva's palace was so
narrow and crooked that we scraped the walls in passing, and we should
never have got by one heavily laden donkey if he had not politely pushed
the side of his pannier into a doorway to make room for us. When we did
get to the Casa de los Venerables we found it mildly yellow-washed and
as beautifully serene and sweet as the house of venerable men should be.
Its distinction in a world of _patios_ was a _patio_ where the central
fountain was sunk half a story below the entrance floor, and encircled
by a stairway by which the humble neighbor folk freely descended to fill
their water jars. I suppose that gentle mansion has other merits, but
the fine staircase that ended under a baroque dome left us facing a
bolted door, so that we had to guess at those attractions, which I leave
the reader to imagine in turn.
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