The most beautiful room on the ground floor is that of the ambassadors, formed by four great arches supporting a gallery of forty-four smaller arches, and above, a lovely cupola which is sculptured, painted and ornamented with an inimitable grace and a fabulous magnificence. On the next floor which contained the winter apartments, nothing remains but an oratory of Ferdinand and Isabella the Catholic, and a small room which is said to be the one where the King Don Pedro slept. You descend from here, by a narrow, mysterious staircase, into the rooms inhabited by the famous Maria di Padilla, a favourite of Don Pedro, whom popular tradition accuses of having instigated Don Pedro to the murder of his brother.
The gardens of the Alcazar are not large, nor extraordinarily beautiful; but the fancies that they engender are more precious than size or beauty. Beneath the shade of those oranges and cypresses, near the soft sound of those fountains when a great brilliant moon shone in the clear Andalusian sky and the host of courtiers and slaves lay down to rest, how many sighs of lovelorn sultanas were heard! how many humble words of proud kings! what mighty loves and embraces!
“Itimad! my love!” I murmured, thinking of the famous favourite of King Al-Motamid, as I roamed from path to path as if following her spirit: “Itimad! Do not leave me alone in this quiet paradise! Stop! Give me one hour of delight to-night. Don’t you remember? You came to me and your lovely locks fell over my shoulders like a mantle; and as the warrior seizes his sword, I seized your neck, softer and whiter than a swan’s! How beautiful you were! How my parched heart satisfied its thirst on thy blood-coloured lips. Your beautiful body issued from your splendidly embroidered robe like a gleaming blade from its scabbard; and then I pressed with both hands your large hips and slender waist in all the perfection of their beauty. How dear you are, Itimad! Your kiss is as sweet as wine, and your glance, like wine, makes me lose my reason!”
While I was uttering this declaration of love in the phrases and imagery of the Arabian poets, I entered a pathway bordered with flowers and suddenly felt a jet of water on my legs; I jumped back and had a dash of it in my face; I turned to the right, and felt a spray on my neck; turning to the left, I got another on the nape of my neck; then I began to run and there was water under me, over me, and all around me, in jets, sprays, and showers, so that in a moment I was as wet as if I had been plunged in a tub. Just at the moment I was about to shout I heard a loud laugh at the end of the garden, and, turning, I saw a young man leaning against the wall and looking at me, as if to say: “Did you enjoy it?” Then he showed me the spring he had touched in order to play the trick and comforted me by saying that the Seville sun would not leave me long in that wet condition, into which I had passed so brusquely, ah me! from the amorous arms of my sultana.
THE TOWER OF BELEM, PORTUGAL.
THE TOWER OF BELEM
ARTHUR SHADWELL MARTIN
The place where Vasco da Gama spent the night before starting on his voyage of discovery, and where he was received by Emmanuel I., on his triumphant return in 1499, was called Bairro de Restello, and here stood a small Ermida, or hermitage, which had been founded for the use of navigators by the great pioneer of maritime discovery, Prince Henry the Navigator.
Osorio, Bishop of Sylves, thus describes the embarcation of the successful expedition which Belem specially commemorates: There was a chapel by the seaside, about four miles from Lisbon, built by Emmanuel in honour of the Virgin Mary; thither Gama resorted the day before he went aboard, and spent the whole night in offering up prayers, and performing other religious duties. Next day he was followed by vast crowds of people to take leave of him and the rest who embarked in the expedition. Not only those in holy orders, but all present, with one voice put up their petitions to the Almighty that he would grant them a prosperous voyage and a safe return. Many of those who came to see them aboard were deeply concerned, and expressed their sorrow as if they had come to the funeral of their friends. “Behold,” said they, “the cursed effects of avarice and ambition! What greater punishment could be devised for these men, if guilty of the blackest crimes? To be thrown upon the merciless ocean, to encounter all the dangers of such a voyage, and venture their lives in a thousand shapes. Would it not be more eligible to suffer death at home than be buried in the deep at such a distance from their native country? These, and many other things did their fears suggest. But Gama, though he shed some tears at departure from his friends, was full of hope, and went aboard with great alacrity. He sailed on the 9th of July, 1497. Those who stood on the shore followed the ships with their eyes; nor did they move from thence till the fleet was under full sail, and quite out of sight.” A few weeks after the return of Vasco da Gama, the foundation-stone of the edifice was laid by the thankful monarch. Boutaca, who was responsible for some of the work at Setubal, supplied the general design, and its details were worked out by the famous Joao de Castilho, who assumed the superintendence of the work in 1517. John III. discontinued the work in 1551, and it is still incomplete. The first stone was laid in 1500 by the Fortunate King with great ceremony, and the construction progressed very rapidly. The limestone of which the buildings were constructed was procured from the Alcantara valley in the vicinity, and lends itself readily to exquisite carving. Originally white when it came from the quarry, it has now mellowed into tints of rich brown, and it is very durable.
The architectural style of the building is what is called the Arte Manoelina, called after the king, Emmanuel I., the Fortunate, (1495–1521) under whose reign it flourished. It is a transitional style, or rather a luxuriant medley of Gothic, Renaissance and Mauresque. Its wealth of detail often borders on the extravagant and fantastic, but its interest cannot be denied. Belem has been said to be the last struggle between Christian and Pagan art in Portugal, and it shows the scars of both in its excessive ornamentation. Its barbaric splendour of enriched stonework cannot fail to fascinate the art-lover, though it is inferior even in these characteristics to the beautiful Capella Imperfeita at Batalha.