An arcade runs along the facade of the cathedral, and around the side and
front of the adjoining church of Santa Fosca, which is likewise very old.
But we found nothing in it but a dusty, cadaverous stench, and so we came
away and ascended the campanile. From the top of this you have a view of
the lagoon, in all its iridescent hues, and of the heaven-blue sea. Here,
looking toward the main-land, I would have been glad to experience the
feelings of the Torcellani of old, as they descried the smoking advance of
Huns or Vandals. But the finer emotions are like gifted children, and are
seldom equal to occasions. I am ashamed to say that mine got no further
than Castle Bluebeard, with Lady Bluebeard's sister looking out for her
brothers, and tearfully responding to Lady B.'s repeated and agonized
entreaty, "O sister, do you see them yet?"
The old woman who had opened the door of the campanile was surprised into
hospitality by the sum of money we gave her, and took us through her house
(which was certainly very neat and clean) into her garden, where she
explained the nature of many familiar trees and shrubs to us poor
Venetians.
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