The Argosy — page 231: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

214 Letters from Majorca. be unto us if we did not look beatified. In truth we are in ecstasies, quite as much as the mystics of old, but they are ecstasies of misery. Very opposite causes will produce apparently similar results ; and I have heard that whether you burn, or whether you freeze, the sensa- tion is the same. So Antonio applies a flattering but very mistaken unction to his soul. We escape upwards sometimes from this noise to the roof of the hotel. It is perhaps midday and the sun is glowing with a brilliancy you would pay for in gold in an English November. ‘The sky, of the most liquid blue, finds its reflection upon those fair waters of the Levant. We are surrounded by white, Eastern looking houses. Above them the wonderful Cathedral rears its amber head; and from this point we have the benefit of its beautiful tower. Below it, is the old Moorish Palace, though with very few Moorish traces left about it. Encircling all are the undulating hills, cutting the clear background of the sky in long wavy outlines. On a lower ridge stands the ancient Castle of Bellver, overlooking the sea. The view is warm, sunny, Eastern ; very much of a dream. It might be the dream of a lotus-eater, so singular is its effect upon the brain. Beside us a cage, large as a room, holds a number of pigeons. We go up to them, and find them tame and approachable. Indeed, they come to us and in their own language plainly ask to be let out: a liberty we have no intention of taking. ‘They would like to soar above all this world, into that liquid blue ether. So should we; but they must not at our bidding; and we cannot at any one’s bidding. We would often fly if we could ; and probably much of what we came upon unexpectedly would make us the most wretched beings in existence. Some people are always dreaming of flying; but surely these, whether sleeping or waking, must be naturally light-headed? I never dreamed of flying in my life, and leave you to draw the evident deduction. | On this roof we often sit for half an hour at a time, indulging in our elevation above the world. Antonio’s voice comes with a delightfully far-off effect, like the whisper of a giant. He thinks us in our room, and if all this is meant for our edification, he is wasting his sweetness on the desert air. But probably he is driving some other unhappy mortal to the verge of madness. Let us descend to the ordinary level of mankind. Walk with me down the street we have just been overlooking from the house-top. It is one of the least interesting of the Palma thoroughfares, but it leads to those steps of which I enclosed you a sketch in my last letter: conducts to a small triangular garden, where tropical plants flourish and spread their beautiful fronds and branches: ends at the port and harbour, which is always busy, always has life and movement about it; always discloses that wonderful sapphire sea beyond. Turn to the right, and you quickly reach the Lonja. Next to CORNICMOOKS EO)