mb.
Strictly speaking, this miracle takes place in the open air, for
Donatello has introduced a rudimentary sun with most symmetrical rays,
and half a dozen clouds which look like faults in the casting. But the
whole relief is framed by an architectural structure, some
amphitheatre with the seats ranged like steps. A balustrade runs all
round the huge building, and a number of idlers standing about at the
far end are reduced to insignificant proportions, thus giving
distance and depth to the scene. Leonardo lies on the ground in sad
pain, and Anthony has just restored the foot. The central group is not
much animated, but two or three of the men's heads are telling
character-studies. Donatello has concentrated his crowd into the
centre: at the sides the miracle passes unheeded. A fat man is
soliloquising with his hand reposing on an ample stomach: a boy with a
long stick and something like a knapsack on his back is attracting the
attention of a young woman, who seems absorbed in watching the
miracle: her child tries to pull her along to go closer. In the corner
are some strange recumbent figures, almost classical in idea; and a
tall woman completely veiled, with her face buried in her hands. The
last of the reliefs illustrates St. Anthony's power over animals. One
Bovidilla, a sceptic, possessed a mule; the saint offered the
consecrated wafer to the animal when starving, and Bovidilla was
converted by the refusal of the animal to eat it. The scene takes
place within a church, which, so far as we see the apse and choir, is
composed of three symmetrical chapels with vaulted and coffered roofs.
There is plenty of classical detail, but still more of the
Renaissance; there is no occasion to assume the design to have been
copied from the Tempio di Pace or the Caracalla baths. St. Anthony
occupies the centre, and the kneeling mule is on the right, his master
close at hand. The church is crowded with people, who, on the whole,
show more curiosity than reverence. Several garrulous boys by the door
are amused; an old beggar hobbles in; a mother tries to keep a child
quiet. Others take any post they can secure, and a good many are
crouching on the ground in all sorts of postures, making a variety
which amounts to unevenness. In all these panels the head of St.
Anthony is of a finer type than that shown in the other version on
the altar. The features are clear cut, and there is an air of earnest
distinction which is not observed on