'The things people miss, Firmin,' he said, 'who go up into the air in
ships!'
Firmin looked around him with an ungenial eye. 'You see it at its best,
sir,' he said, 'before the peasants come here again and make it filthy.'
'It would be beautiful anyhow,' said the king.
'Superficially, sir,' said Firmin. 'But it stands for a social order
that is fast vanishing away. Indeed, judging by the grass between the
stones and in the huts, I am inclined to doubt if it is in use even
now.'
'I suppose,' said the king, 'they would come up immediately the hay
on this flower meadow is cut. It would be those slow, creamy-coloured
beasts, I expect, one sees on the roads below, and swarthy girls with
red handkerchiefs over their black hair.... It is wonderful to think how
long that beautiful old life lasted. In the Roman times and long ages
before ever the rumour of the Romans had come into these parts, men
drove their cattle up into these places as the summer came on.... How
haunted is this place! There have been quarrels here, hopes, children
have played here and lived to be old crones and old gaffers, and died,
and so it has gone on for thousands of lives. Lovers, innumerable
lovers, have caressed amidst this golden broom....'
He meditated over a busy mouthful of bread and cheese.
Pages:
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155