Theodore Roethke, «In a Dark Time», from The Far Field (Garden City: Doubleday and Company, Inc., 1964), 79.

Elizabeth Wormeley Latimer, Spain in the Nineteenth Century (Chicago: A. C. McClurg and Company, 1898), 311.

Among those who have discussed the subject are Ricardo Gullón, Técnicas de Galdós (Madrid: Taurus Ediciones, 1970), 105-134; J. E. Varey, «Francisco Bringas: nuestro buen Thiers», Anales Galdosianos, I (1966), 63-69; and Walter T. Pattison, Benito Pérez Galdós (Boston: Twayne Publishers, 1975), 79.

Concerning Galdós' use of light and darkness in another novel, one should consult Vernon Chamberlin, «Doña Perfecta: Light and Darkness, Good and Evil», in Papers Read at the Modern Foreign Language Department Symposium: Nineteenth Century Spanish Literature: Benito Pérez Galdós, Mary Washington College of the University of Virginia, April 21-22, 1967, Fredericksburg, Virginia, 57-70. Chamberlin asserts that «the contrasting interplay of light and darkness... [is one ] of the most forceful and effective techniques which Galdós uses to work on the subconscious», p. 57.

Ruskin says in «Val d'Arno» that the windows are the «anima» of such structures as Westminster Abbey, the Cathedral of Chartres, and the Duomo of Milan. See John Ruskin, The Works of John Ruskin, XXIII (London: George Allan, 1906), 96. Speaking of the windows of Italian houses, Ruskin says that when the rag drape is absent, «the window becomes a mere black hole, having much the same relation to a glazed window that the hollow of a skull has to a bright eye; not unexpressive, but frowning and ghastly, and giving a disagreeable impression of utter emptiness and desolation within». «Kata Phusin» [John Ruskin], The Poetry of Architecture (New York: John Wiley and Son, 1873), 24.

Hilaire Belloc also notes whimsically that «to a building windows are everything; they are what eyes are to a man. Out of windows a building takes its view; in windows the outlook of its human inhabitants is framed». Hilaire Belloc, The Path to Rome (London: George Allen, 1902), 135.

«Desde 1605 hasta acá las cosas han cambiado mucho. El vasto imperio en cuyos dominios, según la antigua frase europea, no se ponía el sol, se desmembró. Cayeron los formidables tercios en Rocroy; se perdió el prestigio, la fuerza y el territorio. Separose Portugal, se emancipó Flandes, se sublevó Nápoles; más tarde se perdieron las Américas; otras nacionalidades y otras razas sucedieron a la nuestra en la siempre cara presidencia de los asuntos del mundo, y diplomática lo mismo que geográficamente, nos hemos quedado en un rincón de la tierra. ¡Y hay todavía quien hable de preponderancia y de banderas iluminadas por un perpetuo sol! Ya se pone, ya se pone...» Benito Pérez Galdós, «Crónica de la Quincena», 15 de abril de 1872, núm. 55; also published in Benito Pérez Galdós, Crónica de la Quincena, ed. William H. Shoemaker (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1948), 114-115.

Peter G. Earle, «La interdependencia de los personajes galdosianos», Cuadernos hispanoamericanos, CCL-CCLI-CCLII (1970-1971), 121.

Benito Pérez Galdós, Obras completas [Novelas, II], introd. Federico Carlos Sáinz de Robles (Madrid: Aguilar, 1971), 129. All quotations cited in this study are from the 1970-1971 edition of the Obras completas.

The crown is a tangible representation of the «halo» of power or divinity invested in a king or queen. Among the Egyptians, the crown was considered «the eye of Horus», who was a Sun-God. For exhaustive explanations of the symbology of the crown and other Royal investitures, see Henri Frankfort, Kingship and the Gods (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1955), particularly pages 105-139. Since the crown is representative of the most sacred aspects of kingship, it is usually made of gold or some other precious metal. The sparkle of the metal and the encrusted jewels supposedly recreate in physical terms the «divine light» possessed by the wearer. William H. Desmonde says that «the wearing of the crown was taken as evidence that an individual has entered into the deepest possible communion with the deity, and it was unthinkable for a person to preside at a religious ritual without bearing this symbol». William H. Desmonde, Magic, Myth and Money (Glencoe: The Free Press of Glencoe, Inc., 1962), 94. No comment is necessary to explain the irony of these ideas as they relate to Isabel's reign and the abysmal conditions existing in the «crown» of her Palace.

In some ancient civilizations -in Rome, for example- the temple where the sacred fire was maintained was considered the holiest part of the city. Indeed, the sacred fire was a vital part of establishing a city. The priest who in many primitive societies presided over the sacred fire was also the king: «This king was, above all, the chief of the worship: he kept up the fires, offered the sacrifices, uttered the prayers, and presided at the common meals». Desmonde, Magic, Myth and Money, 57-59.