Strahov's library is two Baroque halls that you look into rather than walk through. Both are roped at the doorway, so the visit is two views straight down an aisle at painted sky, marbled columns and shelves receding into warm brown. The Theological Hall of the early 1670s is low and white, a barrel vault of curling stucco with astronomical globes standing between the shelves. The Philosophical Hall of the 1790s is the opposite: walnut cases two storeys high under a ceiling fresco by Franz Anton Maulbertsch.
The two rooms hold some 60,000 volumes between them, and the library as a whole runs to roughly 200,000, with manuscripts and incunabula kept apart in a treasury. The corridor connecting the halls is a cabinet of curiosities: narwhal tusks, dried sea creatures and whale jaws, assembled when natural history and wonder were the same subject. Premonstratensian canons have held this hill since 1143, the monastery is still theirs, and the terrace outside the library looks out over the city.