Dreams, Waking Thoughts, and IncidentsBeckford, William
General
Dreams, Waking Thoughts, and Incidents
Beckford, William
Beckford, William, 1760-1844
Round Reggio it grew still more lively, and on the other side of that
agreeable little city, I remarked many a cottage that Tityrus might have
inhabited, with its garden and willow hedge in flower, swarming with
bees. Our road, the smoothest conceivable, led us, perhaps too rapidly,
by so cheerful a landscape. I caught glimpses of fields and copses as we
fled along, that could have afforded me amusement for hours, and orchards
on gentle acclivities, beneath which I could have walked till evening.
The trees literally bent under their loads of fruit, and innumerable
ruddy apples lay scattered upon the ground—
“Strata jacent passim sus quæque sub arbore poma.”
Beyond these rich masses of foliage, to which the sun lent additional
splendour, at the utmost extremity of the pastures, rose the irregular
ridge of the Apennines, whose deep blue presented a striking contrast to
the glowing colours of the foreground. I fixed my eyes on the chain of
distant mountains, and indulged, as usual, my conjectures of what was
going forward on their summits; of those who tended goats on the edge of
the precipice; traversed, at this moment, the dark thickets of pines, and
passed their lives in yonder sheds, contented and unknown. Such were the
dreams that filled my fancy, and kept it incessantly employed till it was
dusk, and the moon began to show herself; the same moon which, but a few
days ago, had seen me so happy at Fiesso. Her soft light reposed upon
the meads, that had been newly mown, and the shadows of tall poplars were
cast aslant them. I left my carriage, and running into the dim haze,
abandoned myself to the recollection it inspired. During an hour, I kept
continually flying forwards; bounding from enclosure to enclosure like a
hunted antelope, and forgetting where I was or whither I was going. One
sole idea filled my mind, and led me on with such heedless rapidity, that
I stumbled over stones and bushes, and entangled myself on every wreath
of vines which opposed my progress. At length, having wandered where
chance or the wildness of my fancy led, till the lateness of the evening
alarmed me, I regained the chaise as fast as I could, and arrived between
ten and eleven at the place of my destination.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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