most stagnant, was extraordinarily calm
and silent. I wondered what strange things the placid Guadalquivir had
seen through the centuries; on its bosom many a body had been borne
towards the sea. It recalled those mysterious waters of the Eastern
tales which brought to the marble steps of palaces great chests in which
lay a fair youth's headless corpse or a sleeping beautiful maid.

XI

[Sidenote: Seville]

The impression left by strange towns and cities is often a matter of
circumstance, depending upon events in the immediate past; or on the
chance which, during his earliest visit, there befell the traveller.
After a stormy passage across the Channel, Newhaven, from the mere fact
of its situation on solid earth, may gain a fascination which closer
acquaintance can never entirely destroy; and even Birmingham, first seen
by a lurid sunset, may so affect the imagination as to appear for ever
like some infernal, splendid city, restless with the hurried toil of
gnomes and goblins. So to myself Seville means ten times more than it
can mean to others. I came to it after weary years in London, heartsick
with much hoping, my mind dull with drudgery; and it seemed a land of
freedom. There I became at last conscious of my youth, and it seemed a
belvedere upon a new life. How can I forget the delight of wandering in
the Sierpes, released at length from all imprisoning ties, watching the
various movement as though it were a stage-play, yet half afraid that
the falling curtain would bring back reality! The songs, the dances, the
happy idleness of orange-gardens, the gay turbulence of Seville by
night; ah! there at least I seized life eagerly, with both hands,
forgetting everything but that time was short and existence full of joy.
I sat in the warm sunshine, inhaling the pleasant odours, reminding
myself that I had no duty to do then, or the morrow, or the day after. I
lay a-bed thinking how happy, effortless and free would be my day.
Mounting my horse, I clattered through the narrow streets, over the
cobbles, till I came to the country; the air was fresh and sweet, and
Aguador loved the spring mornings. When he put his feet to the springy
turf he gave a little shake of pleasure, and without a sign from me
broke into a gallop. To the amazement of shepherds guarding their wild
flocks, to the confusion of herds of brown pigs, scampering hastily as
we approached, he and I excited by the wind singing in our ears, we
pelted ma