Wait then for an entirely bright morning; rise with the sun, and go to
Santa Croce, with a good opera-glass in your pocket, with which you
shall for once, at any rate, see an opus; and, if you have time,
several opera. Walk straight to the chapel on the right of the choir
("k" in your Murray's guide). When you first get into it, you will see
nothing but a modern window of glaring glass, with a red-hot cardinal
in one pane--which piece of modern manufacture takes away at least
seven-eighths of the light (little enough before) by which you might
have seen what is worth sight. Wait patiently till you get used to the
gloom. Then, guarding your eyes from the accursed modern window as best
you may, take your opera-glass and look to the right, at the uppermost
of the two figures beside it. It is St. Louis, under campanile
architecture, painted by--Giotto? or the last Florentine painter who
wanted a job--over Giotto? That is the first question you have to
determine; as you will have henceforward, in every case in which you
look at a fresco.

Sometimes there will be no question at all. These two grey frescos at
the bottom of the walls on the right and left, for instance, have been
entirely got up for your better satisfaction, in the last year or two
--over Giotto's half-effaced lines. But that St. Louis? Re-painted or
not, it is a lovely thing,--there can be no question about that; and we
must look at it, after some preliminary knowledge gained, not
inattentively.

Your Murray's Guide tells you that this chapel of the Bardi della
Liberta, in which you stand, is covered with frescos by Giotto; that
they were whitewashed, and only laid bare in 1853; that they were
painted between 1296 and 1304; that they represent scenes in the life