Full resolution (TIFF) - On this page / på denna sida - Danemora.
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“Appalling!” echoed the brave and
estimable stranger, whom we met at Danemora’s
great gulf. He was a man from Scania,
consequently from the same street as the Sealander
– if the Sound be called a street (strait). “But,
however, one can say one has been down there,”
said he, and he pointed to the gulf; “right
down, and up again; but it is no pleasure
at all.”
“But why descend at all?” said I. “Why
will men do these things?”
“One must, you know, when one comes
here,” said he. “The plague of travelling is,
that one must see everything: one would not
have it supposed otherwise. It is a shame to a
man, when he gets home again, not to have
seen everything, that others ask him about.”
“If you have no desire, then let it alone.
See what pleases you on your travels. Go two
paces nearer than where you stand, and become
quite giddy: you will then have formed some
conception of the passage downward. I will
hold you fast, and describe the rest of it for
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