springing from the leaden roof, and farther off are the rising bulk of
SS. Giovanni e Paolo, with its derivative dome and golden balls, the
leaning tower of S. Maria del Pianto, and beyond this the cemetery and
Murano. Beneath us on the east side is the Ducal Palace, and we look
right into the courtyard and on to the prison roof. Farther away are
the green trees of the Giardini Pubblici, the leaning tower of S.
Pietro di Castello, and S. Nicholas of the Lido. In the south-east are
the Lido's various hotels and the islands of S. Lazzaro (with the
campanile) and S. Servolo. In the south is the Grand Canal with a Guardi
pattern of gondolas upon it, criss-crossing like flies; then S.
Giorgio's lovely island and the Giudecca, and beyond these various
islands of the lagoon: La Grazia, S. Clemente, and, in the far distance,
Malamocco. In the south-west the Custom House pushes its nose into the
water, with the vast white mountain of the Salute behind it. In the west
is the Piazza, immediately below, with its myriad tables and chairs;
then the backs of the S. Moïse statues; and farther away the Frari and
its campanile, the huge telegraph-wire carriers of the harbour; across
the water Fusina, and beyond in the far distance the jagged Euganean
hills.

At sunset the landscape is sharpened and brought nearer. The deep blue
of the real sea, beyond the lagoon, grows deeper; the great fields of
mud (if it is low tide) gleam and glisten. And so it will ever be.




CHAPTER V

THE DOGES' PALACE. I: THE INTERIOR