, where
there is a crucifix by Giunta Pisano which used to hang in the kitchen
of the Convent of S. Anna,[64] not far away, where Emilia Viviani was
"incarcerated," as Shelley says. Close by are the few remains of the
Baths of Hadrian. At the corner we pass into Via S. Anna, and then,
taking the first turning to the left, we come into the great Piazza di
S. Caterina, before the church of that name. Built in the thirteenth
century, it has a fine Pisan facade, but the church is now closed and
the convent has become a boys' school. Passing through the shady Piazza
under the plane-trees, we come into the Via S. Lorenzo, and then,
turning to the right into Vicolo del Ruschi, we come into a Piazza out
of which opens the Piazza di S. Francesco. S. Francesco fell on evil
days, and was altogether desecrated, but is now in the hands of the
Franciscans again. This is well, for the whole church, founded in 1211,
and not the Campanile only, is said to be by Niccolo Pisano.[65] Behind
it, in the old convent, is the Museo.

As you come into this desecrated and ruined cloister littered with
rubbish, among which here and there you may see some quaint or charming
thing, it is difficult to remember S. Francis. Yet, indeed, the place
was founded by two of his followers, the blessed Agnolo and the blessed
Alberto, and still holds in a locked room one of the most extraordinary
of his portraits. In the old Chapter-house are some fragments of the
pulpit from the Duomo by Giovanni Pisano, destroyed in the fire of 1595.
Here we may see very easily the difference between father and son. It is
no longer the influence of the antique that gives life to Italian
sculpture, but certainly French work, something of that passionate
restless energy that, whether we like it or not, puts certain statues at
Chartres, for instance, without shame beside the best Greek work. The
subjects of these panels are the same as those of Niccolo's pulpit in
the Baptistery; one could not wish for a better opportunity of comparing
the work of the two men who stand at the source of the Renaissance.

Passing through the cloister, we enter the convent through a great room
on the first floor, hung with the banners of the Giuoco del Ponte, and
bright with service books. In a little room on the left (Sala I) we come
into the gallery proper. Here, among all sorts of stained parchments, is
the precious remnant of the Cintola del Duomo, that girdle of Maria
Assunta which used to be