Tales of the Alhambra

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Presented to the
LIBRARY of the

UNIVERSITY OF TORONTO

by

Mrs . Andrew Kellogg

STANDARD
NOVELS.

N° XLIX.

" No kind of literature is so generally attractive as Fiction. Pictures of
life and manners, and Stories of adventure, are more eagerly received by
the many than graver productions, hpwever important these latter maybe
APULEIUS is better remembered by his fable of Cupid and Psyche than by
his abstruser Platonic writings; and the Decameron of BOCCACCIO has out-
lived the Latin Treatises, and other learned works of that author."

TALES OF THE ALHAMBRA.

BY WASHINGTON IRVING, ESQ.

THE LAST OF THE ABENCERAGES.

TRANSLATED FROM CHATEAUBRIAND.

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPJIET.

BY HORACE SMITH, ESQ.

LONDON:

RICHARD BENTLEY, 8. NEW BURLINGTON STREET
(SUCCESSOR TO HENRY COLBURN):

BELL AND BRADFUTE, EDINBURGH ;
J. CUMMING, DUBLIN.

1835.

LONDON :

Printed by A. SPOTTISWOODE,
New-Strect-Square.

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TALES

OF THE

ALHAMBRA

BY

WASHINGTON IRVING, ESQ.

AUTHOR OF

" THE SKETCH-BOOK."

REVISED AND CORRECTED BY THE AUTHOR.

LONDON:

RICHARD BENTLEY, 8. NEW BURLINGTON STREET

(SUCCESSOR TO HENRY COLBURN):

BELL AND BRADFUTE, EDINBURGH;

GUMMING, DUBLIN.

1835.

TO

DAVID WILKIE, ESQ. R.A.

My DEAR SIR,

You may remember that, in the rambles we once
took together about some of the old cities of Spain,
particularly Toledo and Seville, we remarked a strong
mixture of the Saracenic with the Gothic, remaining
from the time of the Moors ; and were more than
once struck with scenes and incidents in the streets,
which reminded us of passages in the " Arabian
Nights." You then urged me to write something
that should illustrate those peculiarities, " something
in the Haroun Alrasched style," that should have a
dash of that Arabian spice which pervades every thing
in Spain. I call this to your mind to show you that
you are, in some degree, responsible for the present
work, in which I have given a few " Arabesque "
sketches from the life, and tales founded on popular
traditions, which were chiefly struck off during a
residence in one of the most Morisco-Spanish places
in the Peninsula.

I inscribe these pages to you as a memorial of
the pleasant scenes we have witnessed together in
that land of adventure, and as a testimonial of an
esteem for your worth which is only exceeded by
admiration of your talents.

Your friend and fellow-traveller,

THE AUTHOR*

May, 1832.

CONTENTS.

VOLUME I.

Page

THE JOURNEY . i

GOVERNMENT OF THE ALHAMBRA - ^ 16

INTERIOR OF THE ALHAMBRA 19

THE TOWER OF COMARES - . 26

REFLECTIONS ON THE MOSLEM DOMINATION IN SPAIN - 30

THE HOUSEHOLD _ 33

THE TRUANT . 37

THE AUTHOR'S CHAMBER - - - 40

THE ALHAMBRA BY MOONLIGHT - .. 45

INHABITANTS OF THE ALHAMBRA - - 46

THE COURT OF LIONS - - 50

BOABDIL EL CHICO -» - - - 55

MEMENTOS OF BOABDIL - - - 58

THE BALCONY _ _ - 61

THE ADVENTURE OF THE MASON - - 67

A RAMBLE AMONG THE HILLS - - 70

LOCAL TRADITIONS - _ 77

THE HOUSE OF THE WEATHERCOCK - - 79

LEGEND OF THE ARABIAN ASTROLOGER - - - 80

THE TOWER OF LAS INFANTAS - - - 97

LEGEND OF THE THREE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES - - 99

VOLUME II.

VISITERS TO THE ALHAMBRA - - - - 121

LEGEND OF PRINCE AHMED AL KAMEL ; OR THE PILGRIM OF

LOVE - - - 126

Vlll CONTENTS.

Page

LEGEND OP THE MOOR'S LEGACY _ 155

LEGEND OF THE ROSE OF THE ALHAMBRA ; OR, THE PAGE

AND THE GER- FALCON - - - - 174

THE VETERAN . _ - 188

LEGEND OF THE GOVERNOR AND THE NOTARY - - 190

LEGEND OF THE GOVERNOR AND THE SOLDIER . - 196

LEGEND OF THE Two DISCREET STATUES - - - 212

MUHAMED ABU ALAHMAK . _ 229

YUSEF ABUL HAGIG - _ 235

THE ALHAMBRA.

THE JOURNEY.

IN the Spring of 1829, the Author of this Work, whom
curiosity had brought into Spain, made a rambling ex-
pedition from Seville to Granada in company with a friend,
a member of the Russian Embassy at Madrid. Accident
had thrown us together from distant regions of the globe,
and a similarity of taste led us to wander together among
the romantic mountains of Andalusia. Should these pages
meet his eye, wherever thrown by the duties of his station,
whether mingling in the pageantry of courts, or meditating
on the truer glories of nature, may they recall the scenes of
our adventurous companionship, and with them the re-
membrance of one, in whom neither time nor distance will
obliterate the remembrance of his gentleness and worth.

And here, before setting forth, let me indulge in a few
previous remarks on Spanish scenery and Spanish travelling.
Many are apt to picture Spain to their imaginations as a
soft southern region, decked out with all the luxuriant
charms of voluptuous Italy. On the contrary, though
there are exceptions in some of the maritime provinces,
yet, for the greater part, it is a stern, melancholy country,
with rugged mountains, and long sweeping plains, destitute
of trees, and indescribably silent and lonesome, partaking
of the savage and solitary character of Africa. What adds
to this silence and loneliness, is the absence of singing-
birds, a natural consequence of the want of groves "and
hedges. The vulture and the eagle are seen wheeling about

2 THE ALHAMBBA.

the mountain-cliffs, and soaring over the plains, and groups
of shy bustards stalk about the heaths ; but the myriads
of smaller birds, which animate the whole face of other
countries, are met with in but few provinces in Spain, and
in those chiefly among the orchards and gardens which sur-
round the habitations of man.

In the interior provinces the traveller occasionally tra-
verses great tracts cultivated with grain as far as the eye
can reach, waving at times with verdure, at other times
naked and sunburnt ; but he looks round in vain for the
hand that has tilled the soil. At length, he perceives some
village on a steep hill or rugged crag, with mouldering
battlements and ruined watch-tower • a strong-hold, in old
times, against civil war, or Moorish inroad ; for the custom
among the peasantry of congregating together for mutual
protection is still kept up in most parts of Spain, in con-
sequence of the maraudings of roving freebooters.

But though a great part of Spain is deficient in the gar-
niture of groves and forests, and the softer charms of orna-
mental cultivation, yet its scenery is noble in its severity,
and in unison with the attributes of its people : and I
think that I better understand the proud, hardy, frugal,
and abstemious Spaniard, his manly defiance of hardships,
and contempt of effeminate indulgences, since I have seen
the country he inhabits.

There is something, too, in the sternly simple features
of the Spanish landscape, that impresses on the soul a
feeling of sublimity. The immense plains of the Castiles
and of La Mancha, extending as far as the eye can reach,
derive an interest from their very nakedness and immensity,
and possess, in some degree, the solemn grandeur of the
ocean. In ranging over these boundless wastes, the eye
catches sight here and there of a straggling herd of cattle
attended by a lonely herdsman, motionless as a statue, with
his long slender pike tapering up like a lance into the air ;
or, beholds a long train of mules slowly moving along the
waste like a train of camels in the desert; or, a single
herdsman, armed with blunderbuss and stiletto, and prowl-
ing over the plain. Thus the country, the habits, the very
looks of the people, have something of the Arabian character.

THE JOURNEY. 3

The general insecurity of the country is evinced in the uni-
versal use of weapons. The herdsman in the field, the
shepherd in the plain, has his musket and his knife. The
wealthy villager rarely ventures to the market-town without
his trabuco, and, perhaps, a servant on foot with a blun-
derbuss on his shoulder ; and the most petty journey is un-
dertaken with the preparation of a warlike enterprise.

The dangers of the road produce also a mode of tra-
velling, resembling, on a diminutive scale, the caravans of
the East. The arrieros, or carriers, congregate in convoys,
and set off in large and well-armed trains on appointed
days ; while additional travellers swell their number, and
contribute to their strength. In this primitive way is the
commerce of the country carried on. The muleteer is the
general medium of traffic, and the legitimate traverser of
the land, crossing the peninsula from the Pyrenees and the
Asturias to the Alpuxarras, the Serrania de Ronda, and
even to the gates of Gibraltar. He lives frugally and
hardily : his alforjas of coarse cloth hold his scanty stock
of provisions ; a leathern bottle, hanging at his saddle-bow,
contains wine or water, for a supply across barren moun-
tains and thirsty plains, A mule-cloth spread upon the
ground is his bed at night, and his pack-saddle is his
pillow. His low, but clean-limbed and sinewy form, be-
tokens strength ; his complexion is dark and sunburnt ;
his eye resolute, but quiet in its expression, except when
kindled by sudden emotion ; his demeanour is frank, manly,
and courteous, and he never passes you without a grave
salutation : " Dios guarde a usted ? " ( ' Va usted con
Dios, caballero!" " God guard you!" cc God be with
you, cavalier ! "

As these men have often their whole fortune at stake
upon the burthen of their mules, they have their weapons
at hand, slung to their saddles, and ready to be snatched
out for desperate defence. But their united numbers render
them secure against petty bands of marauders ; and the
solitary bandolero, armed to the teeth, and mounted on his
Andalusian steed, hovers about them, like a pirate about a
merchant convoy, without daring to make an assault.

The Spanish muleteer has an inexhaustible stock of
B 2

4 THE ALHAMBRA.

songs and ballads, with which to beguile his incessant way-
faring. The airs are rude and simple, consisting of but
few inflexions. These he chants forth with a loud voice,
and long, drawling cadence, seated sideways on his mule,
"who seems to listen with infinite gravity, and to keep time
with his paces to the tune. The couplets thus chanted,
are often old traditional romances about the Moors, or some
legend of a saint, or some love-ditty ; or, what is still more
frequent, some ballad about a bold contrabandista, or hardy
bandolero, for the smuggler and the robber are poetical he-
roes among the common people of Spain. Often, the song of
the muleteer is composed at the instant, and relates to some
local scene, or some incident of the journey. This talent
of singing and improvising is frequent in Spain, and is
said to have been inherited from the Moors. There is
something wildly pleasing in listening to these ditties among
the rude and lonely scenes that they illustrate ; accom-
panied, as they are, by the occasional jingle of the mule-
bell.

It has a most picturesque effect also to meet a train of
muleteers in some mountain pass. First you hear the bells
of the leading mules, breaking, with their simple melody,
the stillness of the airy height ; or, perhaps, the voice of
the muleteer admonishing some tardy or wandering animal,
or chanting, at the full stretch of his lungs, some tra-
ditionary ballad. At length you see the mules slowly
winding along the cragged defile, sometimes descending
precipitous cliffs, so as to present themselves in full relief
against the sky, sometimes toiling up the deep arid chasms
below you. As they approach, you descry their gay de-
corations of worsted tufts, tassels, and saddle-cloths; while,
as they pass by, the ever-ready trabuco slung behind the
packs and saddles gives a hint of the insecurity of the
road.

The ancient kingdom of Granada, into which we were
about to penetrate, is one of the most mountainous regions
of Spain. Vast sierras, or chains of mountains, destitute
of shrub or tree, and mottled with variegated marbles arid
granites, elevate their sunburnt summits against a deep-
blue sky ; yet in their rugged bosoms lie engulfed the most

THE JOURNEY.

verdant and fertile valleys, where the desert and the garden
strive for mastery, and the very rock is, as it were, com-
pelled to yield the fig, the orange, and the citron, and to
blossom with the myrtle and the rose.

In the wild passes of these mountains the sight of walled
towns and villages, built like eagles' nests among the cliffs,
and surrounded by Moorish battlements, or of ruined
watch-towers perched on lofty peaks, carries the mind back
to the chivalric days of Christian and Moslem warfare, and
to the romantic struggle for the conquest of Granada. In
traversing these lofty sierras the traveller is often obliged
to alight and lead his horse up and down the steep and
jagged ascents and descents, resembling the broken steps
of a staircase. Sometimes the road winds along dizzy
precipices, without parapet to guard him from the gulfs
below, and then will plunge down steep, and dark, and
dangerous declivities. Sometimes it straggles through
rugged barrancos, or ravines, worn by winter torrents, the
obscure path of the contrabandista ; while, ever and anon,
the ominous cross, the monument of robbery and murder,
erected on a mound of stones at some lonely part of the
road, admonishes the traveller that he is among the haunts
of banditti, perhaps at that very moment under the eye of
some lurking bandolero. Sometimes, in winding through
the narrow valleys, he is startled by a hoarse bellowing,
and beholds above him, on some green fold of the moun-
tain side, a herd of fierce Andalusian bulls, destined for
the combat of the arena. I have felt, if I may so express
it, an agreeable horror in thus contemplating near at hand
these terrific animals, clothed with tremendous strength,
and ranging their native pastures in untamed wildness,
strangers almost to the face of man : they know no one
but the solitary herdsman who attends upon them, and
even he at times dares not venture to approach them. The
low bellowing of these bulls, and their menacing aspect as
they look down from their rocky height, give additional
wildness to the savage scenery around.

I have been betrayed unconsciously into a longer dis-
quisition than I had intended on the general features of
Spanish travelling; but there is a romance about all the
B 3

O THE ALHAMBRA.

recollections of the Peninsula that is dear to the imagin-
ation.

It was on the 1st of May that my companion and my-
self set forth from Seville on our route to Granada. We
had made all due preparations for the nature of our journey,
which lay through mountainous regions, where the roads
are little better than mere mule paths, and too frequently
beset by robbers. The most valuable part of our luggage
had been forwarded by the arrieros ; we retained merely
clothing and necessaries for the journey, and money for
the expenses of the road, with a sufficient surplus of the
latter to satisfy the expectations of robbers should we be
assailed, and to save ourselves from the rough treatment
that awaits the too wary and empty-handed traveller. A
couple of stout hired steeds were provided for ourselves,
and a third for our scanty luggage, and for the conveyance
of a sturdy Biscayan lad of about twenty years of age,
who was to guide us through the perplexed mazes of the
mountain roads, to take care of the horses, to act occasion-
ally as our valet, and at all times as our guard ; for he had
a formidable trabuco or carbine to defend us from rateros,
or solitary footpads, about which weapon he made much
vainglorious boast, though, to the discredit of his general-
ship, I must say that it generally hung unloaded behind
his saddle. He was, however, a faithful, cheery, kind-
hearted creature, full of saws and proverbs as that miracle
of squires the renowned Sancho himself, whose name we
bestowed upon him ; and, like a true Spaniard, though
treated by us with companionable familiarity, he never for
a moment, in his utmost hilarity, overstepped the bounds
of respectful decorum.

Thus equipped and attended, we set out on our journey
with a genuine disposition to be pleased. With such a
disposition, what a country is Spain for a traveller, where
the most miserable inn is as full of adventure as an en-
chanted castle, and every meal is in itself an achievement !
Let others repine at the lack of turnpike roads and sump-
tuous hotels, and all the elaborate comforts of a country
cultivated into tameness and common-place ; but give me
the rude mountain scramble, the roving, haphazard way-

THE JOURNEY. 7

faring, the frank, hospitable, though half-wild manners,
that impart such a true game flavour to romantic Spain !

Our first evening's entertainment had a relish of the
kind. We arrived after sunset at a little town among the
hills, after a fatiguing journey over a wide houseless plain,
where we had been repeatedly drenched with showers. In
the inn were a party of Miqueletes, who were patrolling
the country in pursuit of robbers. The appearance of
foreigners like ourselves was unusual in this remote town ;
mine host, with two or three old gossiping comrades in
brown cloaks, studied our passports in a corner of the
posada, while an alguazil took notes by the dim light of a
lamp. The passports were in foreign languages, and per-
plexed them ; but our squire Sancho assisted them in their
studies, and magnified our importance with the grandilo-
quence of a Spaniard. In the meantime the magnificent
distribution of a few cigars had won the hearts of all
around us ; in a little while the whole community seemed
put in agitation to make us welcome. The corregidor him-
self waited upon us, and a great rush- bottomed arm-chair
was ostentatiously bolstered into our room by our landlady,
for the accommodation of that important personage. The
commander of the patrol took supper with us ; a lively,
talking, laughing Andaluz, who had made a campaign in
South America, and recounted his exploits in love and
war with much pomp of phrase, vehemence of gesticulation,
and mysterious rolling of the eye. He told us that he had
a list of all the robbers in the country, and meant to ferret
out every mother's son of them ; he offered us at the same
time some of his soldiers as an escort. " One is enough
to protect you, senors ; the robbers know me and know my
men ; the sight of one is enough to spread terror through
a whole sierra." We thanked him for his offer, but as-
sured him in his own strain, that, with the protection of
our redoubtable squire, Sancho, we were not afraid of all
the ladrones of Andalusia.

While we were supping with our Drawcansir friend, we

heard the notes of a guitar, and the click of castanets,, and

presently a chorus of voices singing a popular air. In fact,

mine host had gathered together the amateur singers and

B 4

8 THE ALHAMBRA.

musicians, and the rustic belles of the neighbourhood,, and
on going forth the court-yard of the inn presented a scene
of true Spanish festivity. We took our seats with mine
host and hostess and the commander of the patrol, under
the archway of the court ; the guitar passed from hand to
hand, but a jovial shoemaker was the Orpheus of the
place. He was a pleasant-looking fellow, with huge black
whiskers ; his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows; he
touched the guitar with masterly skill, and sang little
amorous ditties with an expressive leer at the women, with
whom he was evidently a favourite. He afterwards danced
a fandango with a buxom Andalusian damsel, to the great
delight of the spectators. But none of the females present
could compare with mine host's pretty daughter, Pepita,
who had slipped away and made her toilette for the oc-
casion, and had covered her head with roses ; and who
distinguished herself in a bolero with a handsome young
dragoon. We had ordered our host to let wine and re-
freshment circulate freely among the company; yet, though
there was a motley assembly of soldiers, muleteers, and
villagers, no one exceeded the bounds of sober enjoyment.
The scene was a study for a painter : the picturesque
group of dancers, the troopers in their half military dresses,
the peasantry wrapped in their brown cloaks ; nor must I
omit to mention the old meagre alguazil, in a short black
cloak, who took no notice of anything going on, but sat in
a corner diligently writing by the dim light of a huge cop-
per lamp that might have figured in the days of Don
Quixote.

I am not writing a regular narrative, and do not pre-
tend to give the varied events of several days' rambling,
over hill and dale, and moor and mountain. We travelled
in true contrabandista style, taking every thing rough and
smooth as we found it, and mingling with all classes and
conditions in a kind of vagabond companionship. It is
the true way to travel in Spain. Knowing the scanty
larders of the inns, and the naked tracts of country which
the traveller has often to traverse, we had taken care on
starting to have the alforjas, or saddle-bags of our squire,
well stocked with cold provisions, and his bota, or leathern

THE JOURNEY. 9

bottle, which was of portly dimensions, filled to the neck
with choice Valdepenas wine. As this was a munition for
our campaign more important than even his trabuco, we
exhorted him to have an eye to it ; and I will do him the
justice to say, that his namesake, the trencher-loving
Sancho himself, could not excel him as a provident pur-
veyor. Though the alforjas and bota were repeatedly and
vigorously assailed throughout the journey, they appeared
to have a miraculous property of being never empty ; for
our vigilant squire took care to sack every thing that re-
mained from our evening repasts at the inns, to supply our
next day's luncheon.

What luxurious noontide repasts have we made, on the
green sward by the side of a brook or fountain, under a
shady tree ! and then what delicious siestas on our cloaks,
spread out on the herbage !

We paused one day at noon for a repast of the kind.
It was in a pleasant little green meadow surrounded by
hills covered with olive-trees. Our cloaks were spread on
the grass under an elm-tree, by the side of a bubbling rivu-
let ; our horses were tethered where they might crop the
herbage ; and Sancho produced his alforjas with an air of
triumph. They contained the contributions of four days'
journeying, but had been signally enriched by the foraging
of the previous evening in a plenteous inn at Antequera.
Our squire drew forth the heterogeneous contents, one by
one, and these seemed to have no end. First came forth
a shoulder of roasted kidj very little the worse for wear ;
then an entire partridge ; then a great morsel of salted
codfish wrapped in paper ; then the residue of a ham ;
then the half of a pullet, together with several rolls of
bread, and a rabble rout of oranges, figs, raisins, and wal-
nuts. His bota also had been recruited with some excel-
lent wine of Malaga. At every fresh apparition from his
larder, he would enjoy our ludicrous surprise, throwing
himself back on the grass, and shouting with laughter.
Nothing pleased the simple-hearted varlet more than to
be compared, for his devotion to the trencher, to the re-
nowned squire of Don Quixote. He was well versed in
the history of the Don, and, like most of the com-

10 THE ALHAMBRA.

mon people of Spain, he firmly believed it to be a true
history.

" All that, however, happened a long time ago, senor ? "
said he to me one day, with an inquiring look.

(C A very long time," was the reply.

<c I dare say more than a thousand years ? " still look-
ing dubiously.

" I dare say, not less."

The squire was satisfied.

As we were making the repast above described, and
diverting ourselves with the simple drollery of our squire,
a solitary beggar approached us, who had almost the look
of a pilgrim. He was evidently very old, with a grey
beard, and supported himself on a staff, yet age had not
bowed him down ; he was tall and erect, and had the
wreck of a fine form. He wore a round Andalusian hat,
a sheep- skin jacket, and leathern breeches, gaiters, and
sandals. His dress, though old and patched, was decent,
his demeanour manly, and he addressed us with that grave
courtesy that is to be remarked in the lowest Spaniard.
We were in a favourable mood for such a visitor ; and in
a freak of capricious charity, gave him some silver, a loaf
of fine wheaten bread, and a goblet of our choice wine of
Malaga. He received them thankfully, but without any
grovelling tribute of gratitude. Tasting the wine, he held
it up to the light, with a slight beam of surprise in his
eye, then quaffing it off at a draught, " It is many
years," said he, " since I have tasted such wine. It is a
cordial to an old man's heart." Then, looking at the
beautiful wheaten loaf, e( bendito sea tal pan!" ee blessed
be such bread!" So saying, he put it in his wallet.
We urged him to eat it on the spot. (c No, senors," re-
plied he, " the wine I had to drink or leave ; but the
bread I must take home to share with my family."

Our man Sancho sought our eye, and reading permis-
sion there, gave the old man some of the ample fragments
of our repast, on condition, however, that he should sit
down and make a meal.

He accordingly took his seat at some little distance from
us, and began to eat slowly and with a sobriety and de-

THE JOURNKY. 11

corura that would have become a hidalgo. There was
altogether a measured manner and a quiet self-possession
about the old man, that made me think he had seen better
days : his language, too, though simple, had occasionally
something picturesque and almost poetical in the phrase-
ology. I set him down for some broken-down cavalier.
I was mistaken ; it was nothing but the innate courtesy of
a Spaniard, and the poetical turn of thought and language
often to be found in the lowest classes of this clear. witted
people. For fifty years, he told us, he had been a shep-
herd, but now he was out of employ, and destitute.
" When I was a young man," said he, " nothing could
harm or trouble me ; I was always well, always gay ; but
now I am seventy. nine years of age, and a beggar, and
my heart begins to fail me."

Still he was not a regular mendicant : it was not until
recently that want had driven him to this degradation ;
and he gave a touching picture of the struggle between
hunger and pride, when abject destitution first came upon
him. He was returning from Malaga without money ;
he had not tasted food for some time, and was crossing
one of the great plains of Spain, where there were but few
habitations. When almost dead with hunger, he applied
at the door of a venta or country inn. " Per don usted
por Dios hermano ! " (" Excuse us, brother, for God's
sake !") was the reply — the usual mode in Spain of refus-
ing a beggar. " I turned away," said he, (f with shame
greater than my hunger, for my heart was yet too proud.
I came to a river with high banks and deep rapid current,
and felt tempted to throw myself in : c What should such
an old, worthless, wretched man as I live for?' But
when I was on the brink of the current, I thought on the
Blessed Virgin, and turned away. I travelled on until I
saw a country seat at a little distance from the road, and
entered the outer gate of the court-yard. The door was
shut, but there were two young sefioras at a window. I
approached and begged : — ' Perdon usted por Dios her-
mano / ' — and the window closed. I crept out of the
court-yard, but hunger overcame me, and my heart gave
way : I thought my hour at hand ; so I laid myself down

12 THE ALHAMBRA.

at the gate, commended myself to the Holy Virgin, and
covered my head to die. In a little while afterwards the
master of the house came home : seeing me lying at his
gate, he uncovered my head, had pity on my grey hairs,
took me into his house, and gave me food. So, senors,
you see that one should always put confidence in the pro-
tection of the Virgin."

The old man was on his way to his native place, Archi-
dona, which was close by, on the summit of a steep and
rugged mountain. He pointed to the ruins of its old
Moorish castle : " That castle," he said, " was inhabited
by a Moorish king at the time of the wars of Granada.
Queen Isabella invaded it with a great army ; but the
king looked down from his castle among the clouds, and
laughed her to scorn ! Upon this the Virgin appeared to
the queen, and guided her and her army up a mysterious
path in the mountains, which had never before been
known. When the Moor saw her coming, he was asto-
nished, and springing with his horse from a precipice,
was dashed to pieces ! The marks of his horse's hoofs,"
said the old man, " are to be seen in the margin of the
rock to this day. And see, senors, yonder is the road by
which the queen and her army mounted : you see it like a
riband up the mountain side ; but the miracle is, that,
though it can be seen at a distance, when you come near
it disappears ! "

The ideal road to which he pointed was undoubtedly a
sandy ravine of the mountain, which looked narrow and
defined at a distance, but became broad and indistinct on
an approach.

As the old man's heart warmed with wine and wassail,
he went on to tell us a story of the buried treasure left
under the castle by the Moorish king. His own house
was next to the foundations of the castle. The curate
and notary dreamed three times of the treasure, and went
to work at the place pointed out in their dreams, His
own son-in-law heard the sound of their pickaxes and
spades at night. What they found nobody knows ; they
became suddenly rich, but kept their own secret. Thus

THE JOURNEY. 13

the old man had once been next door to fortune, but was
doomed never to get under the same roof.

I have remarked, that the stories of treasure buried
by the Moors, which prevail throughout Spaing are most
current among the poorest people. It is thus, kind Nature
consoles with shadows for the lack of substantiate. The
thirsty man dreams of fountains and running streams ;
the hungry man of ideal banquets ; and the poor man of
heaps of hidden gold : nothing certainly is more magni-
ficent than the imagination of a beggar.

The last travelling sketch I shall give, is an evening
scene at the little city of Loxa. This was a famous belli-
gerent frontier post in the time of the Moors, and repulsed
Ferdinand from its walls. It was the strong-hold of old
Aliatan, the father-in-law of Boabdil, when that fiery
veteran sallied forth with his son-in-law on their disas-
trous inroad, that ended in the death of the chieftain and
the capture of the monarch. Loxa is widely situated in a
broken mountain pass, on the banks of the Genii, among
rocks and groves, and meadows and gardens. The people
seem still to retain the bold fiery spirit of the olden time.
Our inn was suited to the place. It was kept by a young
and handsome Andalusian widow, whose trim basquina of
black silk, fringed with bugles, set off the play of a grace-
ful form and round pliant limbs. Her step was firm and
elastic ; her dark eye was full of fire ; and the coquetry of
her air, and varied ornaments of her person, showed that
she was accustomed to be admired.

She was well matched by a brother, nearly about her
own age ; they were perfect models of the Andalusian
Majo and Maja. He was tall, vigorous, and well-formed,
with a clear olive-complexion, a dark beaming eye, and
curling chesnut whiskers that met under his chin. He
was gallantly dressed in a short green velvet jacket, fitted
to his shape, profusely decorated with silver buttons, with
a white handkerchief in each pocket. He had breeches of
the same, with rows of buttons from the hips to the knees;
a pink silk handkerchief round his neck, gathered through
a ring, on the bosom of a neatly-plaited shirt; a sash

14 THE ALHAMBRA.

round the waist to match ; bottinas, or spatterdashes, of
the finest russet-leather, elegantly worked, and open at the
calf to show his stocking ; and russet-shoes, setting off a
well-shaped foot.

As he was standing at the door, a horseman rode up,
and entered into low and earnest conversation with him.
He was dressed in similar style, and almost with equal
finery ; a man about thirty, square-built, with strong
Roman features, handsome, though slightly pitted with the
smallpox ; with a free, bold, and somewhat daring air.
His powerful black horse was decorated with tassels and
fanciful trappings, and a couple of broad-mouthed blunder-
busses hung behind the saddle. He had the air of one of
those contrabandistas that I have seen in the mountains of
Ronda, and evidently had a good understanding with the
brother of mine hostess ; nay, if I mistake not, he was a
favoured admirer of the widow. In fact, the whole inn
and its inmates had something of a contrabandista aspect,
and the blunderbuss stood in a corner beside the guitar.
The horseman I have mentioned passed his evening in
the posada, and sang several bold mountain romances with
great spirit. As we were at supper, two poor Asturians
put in in distress, begging food and a night's lodging.
They had been waylaid by robbers as they came from a
fair among the mountains, robbed of a horse, which
carried all their stock in trade, stripped of their money and
most of their apparel, beaten for having offered resistance,
and left almost naked in the road. My companion, with
a prompt generosity, natural to him, ordered them a sup-
per and a bed, and gave them a sum of money to help
them forward towards their home.

As the evening advanced, the dramatis persons thick-
ened. A large man, about sixty years of age, of power-
ful frame, came strolling in, to gossip with mine hostess.
He was dressed in the ordinary Andalusian costume, but
had a huge sabre tucked under his arm • wore large
mustaches, and had something of a lofty swaggering
air. Every one seemed to regard him with great de-
ference.

Our man Sancho whispered to us that he was Don

THE JOURNEY. 15

Ventura Rodriguez, the hero and champion of Loxa,
famous for his prowess and the strength of his arm. In
the time of the French invasion he surprised six troopers
who were asleep : he first secured their horses, then
attacked them with his sabre, killed some, and took the
rest prisoners. For this exploit the king allows him a
peseta (the fifth of a duro, or dollar) per day, and has
dignified him with the title of Don.

I was amused to notice his swelling language and de-
meanour. He was evidently a thorough Andalusian,
boastful as he was brave. His sabre was always in his
hand or under his arm. He carries it always about with
him as a child does her doll, calls it his Santa Teresa, and
says that when he draws it (" tiembla la terra ! ") the earth
trembles !

I sat until a late hour listening to the varied themes of
this motley group, who mingled together with the unre-
serve of a Spanish posada. "We had contrabandista songs,
stories of robbers, guerilla exploits, and Moorish legends.
The last were from our handsome landlady, who gave a
poetical account of the Infiernos, or infernal regions of
Loxa — dark caverns, in which subterranean streams and
waterfalls make a mysterious sound. The common people
say that there are money-coiners shut up there from the
time of the Moors ; and that the Moorish kings kept their
treasures in those caverns.

Were it the purport of this work, I could fill its pages
with the incidents and scenes of our rambling expedition ;
but other themes invite me. Journeying in this manner,
we at length emerged from the mountains, and entered
upon the beautiful Vega of Granada. Here we took our
last midday's repast under a grove of olive-trees, on the
borders of a rivulet, with the old Moorish capital in the
distance, surmounted by the ruddy towers of the Alham-
bra ; while, far above it, the snowy summits of the Sierra
Nevada shone like silver. The day was without a cloud,
and the heat of the sun tempered by cool breezes from the
mountains; after our repast, we spread our cloaks and
took our last siesta, lulled by the humming of bees among
the flowers, and the notes of ring-doves from the neigh-

16

THE ALHAMBBA.

bouring olive-trees. When the sultry hours were past, we
resumed our journey ; and after passing between hedges
of aloes and Indian figs, and through a wilderness of
gardens, arrived about sunset at the Gates of Granada.

To the traveller imbued with a feeling for the historical
and poetical, the Alhambra of Granada is as much an ob-
ject of veneration, as is the Kaaba, or sacred house of
Mecca, to all true Moslem pilgrims. How many legends
and traditions, true and fabulous ; how many songs and
romances, Spanish and Arabian, of love, and war, and
chivalry, are associated with this romantic pile ! The
reader may judge, therefore, of our delight, when, shortly
after our arrival in Granada, the Governor of the Alham-
bra gave us his permission to occupy his vacant apartments
in the Moorish palace. My companion was soon sum-
moned away by the duties of his station ; but I remained
for several months, spell-bound in the old enchanted pile.
The following papers are the result of my reveries and
researches during that delicious thraldom. If they have
the power of imparting any of the witching charms of the
place to the imagination of the reader, he will not repine
at lingering with me for a season in the legendary halls of
the Alhambra.

GOVERNMENT OF THE ALHAMBRA.

THE Alhambra is an ancient fortress or castellated palace
of the Moorish kings of Granada, where they held dominion
over this their boasted terrestrial paradise, and made their
last stand for empire in Spain. The palace occupies but
a portion of the fortress, the walls of which, studded with
towers, stretch irregularly round the whole crest of a lofty
hill that overlooks the city, and forms a spur of the Sierra
Nevada, or snowy mountain.

GOVERNMENT OF THE ALHAMBRA. 17

In the time of the Moors, the fortress was capable of
containing an army of forty thousand men within its pre-
cincts, and served occasionally as a strong hold of the sove-
reigns against their rebellious subjects. After the kingdom
had passed into the hands of the Christians, the Alhambra
continued a royal demesne, and was occasionally inhabited
by the Castilian monarchs. The Emperor Charles V. began
a sumptuous palace within its walls, but was deterred from
completing it by repeated shocks of earthquakes. The last
royal residents were Philip V. and his beautiful queen,
Elizabetta of Parma, early in the eighteenth century. Great
preparations were made for their reception. The palace
and gardens were placed in a state of repair, and a new
suite of apartments erected, and decorated by artists brought
from Italy. The sojourn of the sovereigns was transient,
and after their departure the palace once more became
desolate. Still the place was maintained with some military
state. The governor held it immediately from the crown,
its jurisdiction extended down into the suburbs of the city,
and was independent of the Captain General of Granada.
A considerable garrison was kept up ; the governor had his
apartments in the front of the old Moorish palace, and
never descended into Granada without some military parade.
The fortress, in fact, was a little town of itself, having several
streets of houses within its walls, together with a Franciscan
convent and a parochial church.

The desertion of the court, however, was a fatal blow to
the Alhambra. Its beautiful halls became desolate, and
some of them fell to ruin ; the gardens were destroyed, and
the fountains ceased to play. By degrees the dwellings
became filled with a loose and lawless population ; contra-
bandistas, who availed themselves of its independent juris-
diction to carry on a wide and daring course of smuggling,
and thieves and rogues of all sorts, who made this their
place of refuge from whence they might depredate upon
Granada and its vicinity. The strong arm of government
at length interfered : the whole community was thoroughly
sifted ; none were suffered to remain but such as were of
honest character, and had legitimate right to a residence j
the greater part of the houses were demolished, and a mere
c

18 THE ALHAMBBA.

hamlet left, with the parochial church and the Franciscan
convent. During the recent troubles in Spain, when Gra-
nada was in the hands of the French, the Alhambra was
garrisoned by their troops, and the palace was occasionally
inhabited by the French commander. With that enlightened
taste which has ever distinguished the French nation in
their conquests, this monument of Moorish elegance and
grandeur was rescued from the absolute ruin and desolation
that were overwhelming it. The roofs were repaired, the
saloons and galleries protected from the weather, the gar-
dens cultivated, the watercourses restored, the fountains
once more made to throw up their sparkling showers; and
Spain may thank her invaders for having preserved to her
the most beautiful and interesting of her historical monu-
ments.

On the departure of the French, they blew up several
towers of the outer wall, and left the fortifications scarcely
tenable. Since that time the military importance of the
post is at an end. The garrison is a handful of invalid
soldiers, whose principal duty is to guard some of the outer
towers, which serve occasionally as a prison of state ; and
the governor, abandoning the lofty hill of the Alhambra,
resides in the centre of Granada, for the more convenient
despatch of his official duties. I cannot conclude this brief
notice of the state of the fortress without bearing testimony
to the honourable exertions of its present commander, Don
Francisco de Serna, who is tasking all the limited resources
at his command to put the palace in a state of repair, and,
by his judicious precautions, has for some time arrested its
too certain decay. Had his predecessors discharged the
duties of their station with equal fidelity, the Alhambra
might yet have remained in almost its pristine beauty :
were government to second him with means equal to his
zeal, this edifice might still be preserved to adorn the land,
and to attract the curious and enlightened of every clime
for many generations.

INTERIOR OF THE ALHAMBRA.

THE Alhambra has been so often and so minutely described
by travellers, that a mere sketch will, probably, be sufficient
for the reader to refresh his recollection ; I will give, there-
fore, a brief account of our visit to it the morning after our
arrival in Granada.

Leaving our posada of La Espada, we traversed the re-
nowned square of the Vivarrambla, once the scene of
Moorish jousts and tournaments, now a crowded market-
place. From thence we proceeded along the Zacatin, the
main street of what, in the time of the Moors, was the
Great Bazaar, where the small shops and narrow alleys still
retain the Oriental character. Crossing an open place in
front of the palace of the captain-general, we ascended a
confined and winding street, the name of which reminded
us of the chivalric days of Granada. It is called the Calle,
or Street of the Gomeres, from a Moorish family famous in
chronicle and song. This street led up to a massive gate-
way of Grecian architecture, built by Charles V., forming
the entrance to the domains of the Alhambra.

At the gate were two or three ragged and superannuated
soldiers, dozing on a stone bench, the successors of the
Zegris and the Abencerrages ; while a tall meagre varlet,
whose rusty-brown cloak was evidently intended to conceal
the ragged state of his nether garments, was lounging in
the sunshine and gossiping with an ancient sentinel on duty.
He joined us as we entered the gate, and offered his services
to show us the fortress.

I have a traveller's dislike to officious ciceroni, and did
not altogether like the garb of the applicant.

" You are well acquainted with the place, I presume ? "

" Ninguno mas ; pues Seiior, soy hijo de la Alhambra."
— (Nobody better ; in fact, Sir, I am a son of the Al-
hambra ! )

The common Spaniards have certainly a most poetical
c 2

20 THE ALHAMBRA.

way of expressing themselves. "A son of the Alhambra ! "
the appellation caught me at once; the very tattered garb of
my new acquaintance assumed a dignity in my eyes. It
was emblematic of the fortunes of the place, and befitted
the progeny of a ruin.

I put some farther questions to him,, and found that his
title was legitimate. His family had lived in the fortress
from generation to generation ever since the time of the
conquest. His name was Mateo Ximenes. e< Then, per-
haps," said I, " you may be a descendant from the great
Cardinal Ximenes ?" — " Dios Sabe ! God knows, Senor!
It may be so. We are the oldest family in the Alhambra,
— Christianas Viejos, old Christians, without any taint of
Moor or Jew. I know we belong to some great family or
other, but I forget whom. My father knows all about it :
he has the coat-of-arms hanging up in his cottage, up in
the fortress." — There is not any Spaniard, however poor,
but has some claim to high pedigree. The first title of this
ragged worthy, however, had completely captivated me, so
I gladly accepted the services of the "son of the Alhambra."

We now found ourselves in a deep narrow ravine, filled
with beautiful groves, with a steep avenue, and various
footpaths winding through it bordered with stone seats, and
ornamented with fountains. To our left, we beheld the
towers of the Alhambra beetling above us ; to our right, on
the opposite side of the ravine, we were equally dominated
by rival towers on a rocky eminence. These, we were told,
were the Torres Vermejos, or Vermilion Towers, so called
from their ruddy hue. No one knows their origin. They
are of a date much anterior to the Alhambra: some suppose
them to have been built by the Romans ; others, by some
wandering colony of Phrenicians. Ascending the steep and
shady avenue, we arrived at the foot of a huge square
Moorish tower, forming a kind of barbacan, through which
passed the main entrance to the fortress. Within the bar-
bacan was another group of veteran invalids, one mounting
guard at the portal, while the rest, wrapped in their tattered
cloaks, slept on the stone benches. This portal is called
the Gate of Justice, from the tribunal held within its porch
during the Moslem domination, for the immediate trial of

INTERIOR OF THE ALHAMBRA. 21

petty causes : a custom common to the Oriental nations,
and occasionally alluded to in the Sacred Scriptures.

The great vestibule, or porch of the gate, is formed by
an immense Arabian arch, of the horseshoe form, which
springs to half the height of the tower. On the keystone
of this arch is engraven a gigantic hand. Within the ves-
tibule, on the keystone of the portal, is sculptured, in like
manner, a gigantic key. Those who pretend to some know-
ledge of Mahometan symbols, affirm that the hand is the
emblem of doctrine, and the key of faith ; the latter, they
add, was emblazoned on the standard of the Moslems when
they subdued Andalusia, in opposition to the Christian em-
blem of the Cross. A different explanation, however, was
given by the legitimate son of the Alhambra, and one more
in unison with the notions of the common people, who
attach something of mystery and magic to every thing Moor-
ish, and have all kind of superstitions connected with this
old Moslem fortress.

According to Mateo, it was a tradition handed down
from the oldest inhabitants, and which he had from his
father and grandfather, that the hand and key were
magical devices on which the fate of the Alhambra
depended. The Moorish king who built it was a great
magician, or, as some believed,, had sold himself to the
devil, and had laid the whole fortress under a magic
spell. By this means it had remained standing for
several hundred years, in defiance of storms and earth-
quakes, while almost all other buildings of the Moors had
fallen to ruin, and disappeared. This spell, the tradition
went on to say, would last until the hand on the outer
arch should reach down and grasp the key, when the
whole pile would tumble to pieces, and all the treasures
buried beneath it by the Moors would be revealed.

Notwithstanding this ominous prediction, we ventured
to pass through the spell-bound gateway, feeling some
little assurance against magic art in the protection of the
Virgin, a statue of whom we observed above the portal

After passing through the barbacan, we ascended a
narrow lane, winding between walls, and came on an open
esplanade within the fortress, called the Plaza de los
c 3

22 THE ALHAMBRA.

Algibes, or Place of the Cisterns, from great reservoirs
which undermine it, cut in the living rock by the
Moors, for the supply of the fortress. Here, also, is a
well of immense depth, furnishing the purest and coldest
of water ; another monument of the delicate taste of the
Moors, who were indefatigable in their exertions to obtain
that element in its crystal purity.

In front of this esplanade is the splendid pile com-
menced by Charles V., intended, it is said, to eclipse the
residence of the Moslem kings. With all its grandeur
and architectural merit, it appeared to us like an arrogant
intrusion ; and, passing by it, we entered a simple, unos-
tentatious portal, opening into the interior of the Moorish
palace.

The transition was almost magical : it seemed as if we
were at once transported into other times, and another
realm, and were treading the scenes of Arabian story.
We found ourselves in a great court, paved with white
marble, and decorated at each end with light Moorish
peristyles : it is called the Court of the Alberca. In the
centre was an immense basin, or fishpond, a hundred and
thirty feet in length by thirty in breadth, stocked with
gold fish, and bordered by hedges of roses. At the
upper end of this court rose the great Tower of Comares.

From the lower end we passed through a Moorish
archway into the renowned Court of Lions. There is no
part of the edifice that gives a more complete idea of its
original beauty and magnificence than this ; for none has
suffered so little from the ravages of time. In the centre
stands the fountain, famous in song and story. The
alabaster >basins still shed their diamond drops j and the
twelve lions, which support them, cast forth their crystal
streams as in the days of Boabdil. The court is laid out
in flower-beds, and surrounded by light Arabian arcades
of open filigree work, supported by slender pillars of
white marble. The architecture, like that of all the
other parts of the palace, is characterised by elegance
rather than grandeur ; bespeaking a delicate and graceful
taste, and a disposition to indolent enjoyment. When
one looks upon the fairy tracery of the peristyles, and

INTERIOtt OP THE ALHAMBRA. 23

the apparently fragile fretwork of the walls, it is difficult
to believe that so much has survived the wear and tear of
centuries, the shocks of earthquakes, the violence of war,
and the quiet, though no less baneful, pilferings of the
tasteful traveller: it is almost sufficient to excuse the
popular tradition, that the whole is protected by a magic
charm.

On one side of the court, a portal, richly adorned,
opens into a lofty hall, paved with white marble, and
called the Hall of the Two Sisters. A cupola, or lantern,
admits a tempered light from above, and a free circulation
of air. The lower part of the walls is incrusted with
beautiful Moorish tiles, on some of which are emblazoned
the escutcheons of the Moorish monarchs : the upper part
is faced with the fine stucco-work invented at Damascus,
consisting of large plates, cast in moulds, and artfully
joined, so as to have the appearance of being laboriously
sculptured by the hand into light relievos and fanciful
Arabesques, intermingled with texts of the Koran, and
poetical inscriptions in Arabian and Cufic characters.
These decorations of the walls and cupolas are richly
gilded, and the interstices pencilled with lapis lazuli, and
other brilliant and enduring colours. On each side of the
hall are recesses for ottomans and couches. Above an
inner porch is a balcony, which communicated with the
women's apartment. The latticed 'jalousies' still remain,
from whence the dark-eyed beauties of the haram might
gaze unseen upon the entertainments of the hall below.

It is impossible to contemplate this once favourite abode
of Oriental manners, without feeling the early associations
of Arabian romance, and almost expecting to see the
white arm of some mysterious princess beckoning from
the balcony, or some dark eye sparkling through the
lattice. The abode of beauty is here, as if it had been
inhabited but yesterday ; but where are the Zoraydas and
Lindaraxas !

On the opposite side of the Court of Lions, is the Hall
of the Abencerrages ; so called from the gallant cavaliers
of that illustrious line who were here perfidiously massa-
cred. There are some who doubt the whole truth of this
c 4

24t THE ALHAMBRA.

story ; but our humble attendant, Mateo, pointed out the
very wicket of the portal through which they are said to
have been introduced, one by one ; and the white marble
fountain in the centre of the hall, where they were
beheaded. He showed us, also,, certain broad ruddy
stains in the pavement, traces of their blood, which,
according to popular belief, can never be effaced. Finding
we listened to him with easy faith, he added, that there
was often heard at night, in the Court of Lions, a low,
confused sound, resembling the murmuring of a multitude;
with now and then a faint tinkling, like the distant clank
of chains. These noises are probably produced by the
bubbling currents and tinkling falls of water, conducted
under the pavement, through pipes and channels, to
supply the fountains ; but, according to the legend of the
son of the Alhambra, they are made by the spirits of the
murdered Abencer rages, who nightly haunt the scene
of their suffering, and invoke the vengeance of Heaven on
their destroyer.

From the Court of Lions we retraced our steps through
the Court of the Alberca, or Great Fishpool; crossing
which, we proceeded to the Tower of Comares, so called
from the name of the Arabian architect. It is of massive
strength and lofty height, domineering over the rest of the
edifice, and overhanging the steep hill-side, which descends
abruptly to the banks of the Darro. A Moorish archway
admitted us into a vast and lofty hall, which occupies the
interior of the tower, and was the grand audience-chamber
of the Moslem monarchs, thence called the Hall of
Ambassadors. It still bears the traces of past magnifi-
cence. The walls are richly stuccoed, and decorated with
Arabesques ; the vaulted ceiling of cedar-wood, almost lost
in obscurity, from its height, still gleams with rich
gilding, and the brilliant tints of the Arabian pencil. On
three sides of the saloon are deep windows cut through
the immense thickness of the walls, the balconies of which
look down upon the verdant valley of the Darro, the
streets and convents of the Albaycin, and command a
prospect of the distant Vega.

I might go on to describe minutely the other delight-

INTERIOR OP THE ALHAMBRA. 25

ful apartments of this side of the palace : the tocador, or
toilet of the queen, an open belvidere, on the summit of
a tower, where the Moorish sultanas enjoyed the pure
breezes from the mountain, and the prospect of the
surrounding paradise j the secluded little patio, or garden
of Lindaraxa, with its alabaster fountain, its thickets
of roses and myrtles, of citrons and oranges ; the cool
halls and grottoes of the baths, where the glare and heat
of day are tempered into a soft mysterious light, and a
pervading freshness. But I forbear to dwell minutely on
those scenes ; my object is merely to give the reader a
general introduction into an abode, where, if so disposed,
he may linger and loiter with me through the remainder
of this work, gradually becoming familiar with all its
localities.

An abundant supply of water, brought from the moun-
tains by old Moorish aqueducts, circulates throughout
the palace, supplying its baths and fishpools, sparkling in
jets within its halls, or murmuring in channels along the
marble pavements. When it has paid its tribute to the
royal pile, and visited its gardens and parterres, it flows
down the long avenue leading to the city, tinkling in rills,
gushing in fountains, and maintaining a perpetual verdure
in those groves that embower and beautify the whole hill
of the Alhambra.

Those only who have sojourned in the ardent climates
of the South, can appreciate the delights of an abode,
combining the breezy coolness of the mountain, with the
freshness and verdure of the valley. While the city below
pants with [the noontide heat, and the parched Vega
trembles to the eye, the delicate airs from the Sierra
Nevada play through these lofty halls, bringing with them
the sweetness of the surrounding gardens. Every thing
invites to that indolent repose, the bliss of southern
climes ; and while the half-shut eye looks out from shaded
balconies upon the glittering landscape, the ear is lulled by
the rustling of groves, and the murmur of running streams.

26 THE ALHAMBRA.

THE TOWER OF COMARES.

THE reader has had a sketch of the interior of the Al-
hambra, and may he desirous of a general idea of its vici-
nity. The morning is serene and lovely ; the sun has not
gained sufficient power to destroy the freshness of the
night; we will mount tp the summit of the Tower of
Comares, and take a bird's-eye view of Granada and its
environs.

Come then, worthy reader and comrade, follow my steps
into this vestibule, ornamented with rich tracery, which
opens to the Hall of Ambassadors. We will not enter the
hall, however, but turn to the left, to this small door,
opening in the wall. Have a care ! here are steep winding
steps and but scanty light ; yet up this narrow, obscure,
and winding staircase, the proud monarchs of Granada and
their queens have often ascended to the battlements of the
tower to watch the approach of Christian armies ; or to
gaze on the battles in the Vega. At length we are on the
terraced roof, and may take breath for a moment,, while
we cast a general eye over the splendid panorama of city
and country ; of rocky mountain, verdant valley, and fer-
tile plain ; of castle, cathedral, Moorish towers, and Gothic
domes, crumbling ruins, and blooming groves.

Let us approach the battlements, and cast our eyes im-
mediately below. See, on this side we have the whole
plan of the Alhambra laid open to us, and can look down
into its courts and gardens. At the foot of the tower is
the Court of the Alberca, with its great tank or fishpool,
bordered with flowers ; and yonder is the Court of Lions,
with its famous fountains, and its light Moorish arcades ;
and in the centre of the pile is the little garden of Linda-
raxa, buried in the heart of the building, with its roses and
citrons, and shrubbery of emerald green.

That belt of battlements, studded with square towers,
straggling round the whole brow of the hill, is the outer

THE TOWER OF COMARES, 27

boundary of the fortress. Some of the towers, you may
perceive, are in ruins, and their massive fragments are
buried among vines, fig-trees, and aloes.

Let us look on this northern side of the tower. It is a
giddy height; the very foundations of the tower rise
above the groves of the steep hill-side. And see, a long
fissure in the massive walls shows that the tower has been
rent by some of the earthquakes, which from time to time
have thrown Granada into consternation ; and which,
sooner or later, must reduce this crumbling pile to a mere
mass of ruin. The deep, narrow glen below us, which
gradually widens as it opens from the mountains, is the
valley of the Darro ; you see the little river winding its
way under embowered terraces, and among orchards and
flower-gardens. It is a stream famous in old times for
yielding gold, and its sands are still sifted, occasionally, in
search of the precious ore. Some of those white pavilions,
which here and there gleam from among groves and vine-
yards, were rustic retreats of the Moors, to enjoy the re-
freshment of their gardens.

The airy palace, with its tall white towers and long
arcades, which breasts yon mountain, among pompous
groves and hanging gardens, is the Generalife, a summer
palace of the Moorish kings, to which they resorted during
the sultry months, to enjoy a still more breezy region than
that of the Alhambra. The naked summit of the height
above it, where you behold some shapeless ruins, is the
Silla del Moro, or Seat of the Moor ; so called, from having
been a retreat of the unfortunate Boabdil, during the time
of an insurrection, where he seated himself, and looked
down mournfully upon his rebellious city.

A murmuring sound of water now and then rises from
the valley. It is from the aqueduct of yon Moorish mill,
nearly at the foot of the hill. The avenue of trees beyond
is the Alameda, along the bank of the Darro, a favourite
resort in evenings, and a rendezvous of lovers in the sum-
mer nights, when the guitar may be heard at a late hour
from the benches along its walks. At present, there are
but a few loitering monks to be seen there, and a group of
water-carriers from the fountain of Avellanos.

28

THE ALHAMBRA.

You start! 'tis nothing but a hawk that we have
frightened from his nest. This old tower is a complete
breeding-place for vagrant birds ; the swallow and martlet
abound in every chink and cranny, and circle about it the
whole day long ; while at night, when all other birds have
gone to rest, the moping owl comes out of its lurking-place,
and utters its boding cry from the battlements. See how
the hawk we have dislodged sweeps away below us, skim-
ming over the tops of the trees, and sailing up to the ruins
above the Generalife !

Let us leave this side of the tower, and turn our- eyes to
the west. Here you behold, in the distance, a range of
mountains bounding the Vega, the ancient barrier between
Moslem Granada and the land of the Christians. Among
their heights you may still discern warrior towns, whose
grey walls and battlements seem of a piece with the rocks
on which they are built ; while here and there is a solitary
Atalaya, or watch-tower, mounted on some lofty point,
and looking down, as it were, from the sky into the valleys
on either side. It was down the defiles of these mountains,
by the pass of Lope, that the Christian armies descended
into the Vega. It was round the base of yon grey and
naked mountain, almost insulated from the rest, and
stretching its bold rocky promontory intd the bosom of the
plain, that the invading squadrons would come bursting
into view, with flaunting banners, and the clangour of
drums and trumpets. How changed is the scene! In-
stead of the glittering line of mailed warriors, we behold
the patient train of the toilful muleteer, slowly moving
along the skirts of the mountain. Behind that promon-
tory, is the eventful bridge of Pinos, renowned for many
a bloody strife between Moors and Christians ; but still
more renowned as being the place where Columbus was
overtaken and called back by the messenger of Queen
Isabella, just as he was departing in despair, to carry his
project of discovery to the court of France.

Behold another place famous in the history of the dis-
coverer. Yon line of walls and towers, gleaming in the
morning sun, in the very centre of the Vega, is the city of
Santa Fe, built by the Catholic sovereigns during the siege

THE TOWER OP COMABES. 29

of Granada, after a conflagration had destroyed their camp.
It was to these walls that Columbus was called back by
the heroic queen ; and within them the treaty was con-
cluded, that led to the discovery of the Western World.

Here, towards the south, the eye revels on the luxuriant
beauties of the Vega ; a blooming wilderness of grove and
garden, and teeming orchard, with the Xenel winding
through it in silver links, and feeding innumerable rills,
conducted through ancient Moorish channels, which main-
tain the landscape in perpetual verdure. Here are the
beloved bowers and gardens and rural retreats, for which
the Moors fought with such desperate valour. The very
farmhouses and hovels which are now inhabited by boors,
retain traces of Arabesques and other tasteful decorations,
which show them to have been elegant residences in the
days of the Moslems.

Beyond the embowered region of the Vega, you behold
to the south a line of arid hills, down which a long train
of mules is slowly moving. It was from the summit of
one of those hills that the unfortunate Boabdil cast back
his last look upon Granada, and gave vent to the agony of
his soul. It is the spot famous in song and story, (f The
last sigh of the Moor."

Now raise your eyes to the snowy summit of yon pile
of mountains, shining like a white summer cloud in the
blue sky. It is the Sierra Nevada, the pride and delight
of Granada ; the source of her cooling breezes and per-
petual verdure, of her gushing fountains and perennial
streams. It is this glorious pile of mountains that gives
to Granada that combination of delights so rare in a southern
city : the fresh vegetation and temperate airs of a northern
climate, with the vivifying ardour of a tropical sun, and
the cloudless azure of a southern sky. It is this aerial
treasury of snow, which, melting in proportion to the in-
crease of the summer heat, sends down rivulets and streams
through every glen and gorge of the Alpuxarras, diffusing
emerald verdure and fertility throughout a chain of happy
and sequestered valleys.

Those mountains may well be called the glory of
Granada. They dominate the whole extent of Andalusia,

30 THE ALHAMBRA.

and may be seen from its most distant parts. The mule-
teer hails them, as he views their frosty peaks from the
sultry level of the plain ; and the Spanish mariner on the
deck of his bark, far, far off on the bosom of the blue
Mediterranean, watches them with a pensive eye, thinks
of delightful Granada, and chants, in a low voice, some old
romance about the Moors.

But enough ; the sun is high above the mountains, and
is pouring his full fervour upon our heads. Already the
terraced roof of the tower is hot beneath our feet : let us
abandon it, and descend and refresh ourselves under the
arcades by the fountain of the Lions.

REFLECTIONS ON THE MOSLEM DOMINATION
IN SPAIN.

ONE of my favourite resorts is the balcony of the central
window of the Hall of Ambassadors, in the lofty tower of
Comares. I have just been seated there, enjoying the
close of a long brilliant day. The sun, as he sank behind
the purple mountains of Alhama, sent a stream of efful-
gence up the valley of the Darro, that spread a melancholy
pomp over the ruddy towers of the Alhambra ; while the
Vega, covered with a slight sultry vapour that caught the
setting ray, seemed spread out in the distance like a golden
sea. Not a breath of air disturbed the stillness of the
hour ; and though the faint sound of music and merriment
now and then arose from the gardens of the Darro, it but
rendered more impressive the monumental silence of the
pile which overshadowed me. It was one of those hours
and scenes in which memory asserts an almost magical
power ; and, like the evening sun beaming on these
mouldering towers, sends back her retrospective rays to
light up the glories of the past.

As I sat watching the effect of the declining daylight
upon this Moorish pile, I was led into a consideration of

MOSLEM DOMINATION IN SPAIN. 31

the light, elegant, and voluptuous character, prevalent
throughout its internal architecture ; and to contrast it
with the grand but gloomy solemnity of the Gothic edifices,
reared by the Spanish conquerors. The very architecture
thus bespeaks the opposite and irreconcilable natures of
the two warlike people who so long battled here for the
mastery of the peninsula. By degrees, I fell into a course
of musing upon the singular fortunes of the Arabian or
Moresco-Spaniards, whose whole existence is as a tale that
is told, and certainly forms one of the most anomalous,
yet splendid, episodes in history. Potent and durable as
was their dominion, we scarcely know how to call them.
They were a nation without a legitimate country or a
name. A remote wave of the great Arabian inundation,
cast upon the shores of Europe, they seemed to have all
the impetus of the first rush of the torrent. Their career
of conquest, from the rock of Gibraltar to the cliffs of the
Pyrenees, was as rapid and brilliant as the Moslem vic-
tories of Syria and Egypt. Nay, had they not been
checked on the plains of Tours, all France, all Europe,
might have been overrun with the same facility as the
empires of the East, and the crescent might at this day
have glittered on the fanes of Paris and of London.
>• Repelled within the limits of the Pyrenees, the mixed
hordes of Asia and Africa, that formed this great eruption,
gave up the Moslem principle of conquest, and sought to
establish in Spain a peaceful and permanent dominion.
As conquerors, their heroism was only equalled by their
moderation : and in both, for a time, they excelled the
nations with whom they contended. Severed from their
native homes, they loved the land given them as they sup-
posed by Allah, and strove to embellish it with every thing
that could administer to the happiness of man. Laying
the foundations of their power in a system of wise and
equitable laws, diligently cultivating the arts and sciences,
and promoting agriculture, manufactures, and commerce ;
they gradually formed an empire unrivalled for its pros-
perity by any of the empires of Christendom ; and dili-
gently drawing round them the graces and refinements
that marked the Arabian empire in the East, at the time of

32 THE ALHAMBRA.

its greatest civilisation, they diffused the light of Oriental
knowledge through the western regions of benighted Europe.

The cities of Arabian Spain became the resort of Chris-
tian artisans, to instruct themselves in the useful arts.
The Universities of Toledo, Cordova, Seville, and Granada,
were sought by the pale student from other lands, to ac-
quaint himself with the sciences of the Arabs, and the
treasured lore of antiquity ; the lovers of the gay sciences
resorted to Cordova and Granada, to imbibe the poetry
and music of the East ; and the steel-clad warriors of the
North hastened thither to accomplish themselves in the
graceful exercises and courteous usages of chivalry.

If the Moslem monuments in Spain, if the mosque of
Cordova, the alcazar of Seville, and the Alhambra of
Granada, still bear inscriptions fondly boasting of the
power and permanency of their dominion ; can the boast
be derided as arrogant and vain ? Generation after gener-
ation, century after century, had passed away, and still
they maintained possession of the land. A period had
elapsed longer than that which has passed since England
was subjugated by the Norman Conqueror, and the de-
scendants of Musa and Taric might as little anticipate being
driven into exile across the same straits, traversed by their
triumphant ancestors, as the descendants of Hollo and
William, and their veteran peers, may dream of being
driven back to the shores of Normandy.

With all this, however, the Moslem empire in Spain was
but a brilliant exotic, that took no permanent root in the
soil it embellished. Severed from all their neighbours in
the West, by impassable barriers of faith and manners,
and separated by seas and deserts from their kindred of the
East, they were an isolated people. Their whole existence
was a prolonged, though gallant and chivalric struggle, for
a foothold in a usurped land.

They were the outposts and frontiers of Islamism. The
peninsula was the great battle-ground where the Gothic
conquerors of the North and the Moslem conquerors of the
East met and strove for mastery j and the fiery courage of
the Arab was at length subdued by the obstinate and per-
severing valour of the Goth.

THE HOUSEHOLD. 33

Never was the annihilation of a people more complete
than that of the Moresco- Spaniards. Where are they?
Ask the shores of Barbary, and its desert places. The
exiled remnant of their once powerful empire disappeared
among the barbarians of Africa, and ceased to be a nation.
They have not even left a distinct name behind them,
though for nearly eight centuries they were a distinct
people. The home of their adoption, and of their occu-
pation for ages, refuses to acknowledge them, except as
invaders and usurpers. A few broken monuments are all
that remain to bear witness to their power and dominion,
as solitary rocks, left far in the interior, bear testimony to
the extent of some vast inundation. Such is the Alhambra.
A Moslem pile, in the midst of a Christian land; an
Oriental palace amidst the Gothic edifices of the West ;
an elegant memento of a brave, intelligent, and graceful
people, who conquered, ruled, and passed away.

THE HOUSEHOLD.

IT is time that I give some idea of my domestic arrange-
ments in this singular residence. The Royal Palace of
the Alhambra is entrusted to the care of a good old maiden
dame, called Dona Antonia Molina ; but who, according
to Spanish custom, goes by the more neighbourly appella-
tion of Tia Antonia (Aunt Antonia). She maintains the
Moorish halls and gardens in order, and shows them to
strangers ; in consideration of which she is allowed all
the perquisites received from visiters, and all the produce
of the gardens, excepting, that she is expected to pay an
occasional tribute of fruits and flowers to the governor.
Her residence is in a corner of the palace ; and her family
consists of a nephew and niece, the children of two differ-
ent brothers. The nephew, Manuel Molina, is a young
man of sterling worth, and Spanish gravity. He has
served in the armies both in Spain and the West Indies ;
but is now studying medicine, in hopes of one day or

D

34l THE ALHAMBRA.

other becoming physician to the fortress, a post worth at
least a hundred and forty dollars a year. As to the niece,
she is a plump little black-eyed Andalusian damsel, named
Dolores ; but who, from her bright looks and cheerful
disposition, merits a merrier name. She is the declared
heiress of all her aunt's possessions, consisting of certain
ruinous tenements in the fortress, yielding a revenue of
about one hundred and fifty dollars. I had not been long
in the Alhambra, before I discovered that a quiet court-
ship was going on between the discreet Manuel and his
bright-eyed cousin, and that nothing was wanting to enable
them to join their hands and expectations, but that he should
receive his doctor's diploma, and purchase a dispensation
from the Pope, on account of their consanguinity.

With the good Dame Antonia I have made a treaty,
according to which, she furnishes me with board and
lodging ; while the merry -hearted little Dolores keeps my
apartment in order, and officiates as handmaid at meal-
times. I have also at my command a tall, stuttering,
yellow-haired lad, named Pepe, who works in the gardens,
and would fain have acted as valet ; but in this he was
forestalled by Mateo Ximenes, " the son of the Alhambra ! "
This alert and officious wight has managed, somehow
or other, to stick by me ever since I first encountered him
at the outer gate of the fortress, and to weave himself into
all my plans, until he has fairly appointed and installed
himself my valet, cicerone, guide, guard, and historiogra-
phic squire ; and I have been obliged to improve the
state of his wardrobe, that he may not disgrace his various
functions ; so that he has cast his old brown mantle, as a
snake does his skin, and now appears about the fortress
with a smart Andalusian hat and jacket, to his infinite
satisfaction, and the great astonishment of his comrades.
The chief fault of honest Mateo is an over anxiety to be
useful. Conscious of having foisted himself into my
employ, and that my simple and quiet habits render his
situation a sinecure, he is at his wit's ends to devise
modes of making himself important to my welfare. I
am, in a manner, the victim of his officiousness ; I
cannot put my foot over the threshold of the palace, to

THE HOUSEHOLD. 35

stroll about the fortress, but he is at my elbow, to explain
every thing I see ; and if I venture to ramble among the
surrounding hills, he insists upon attending me as a guard,
though I vehemently suspect he would be more apt to
trust to the length of his legs than the strength of his
arms, in case of attack. After all, however, the poor
fellow is at times an amusing companion ; he is simple-
minded, and of infinite good humour, with the loquacity
and gossip of a village barber, and knows all the small-
talk of the place and its environs ; but what he chiefly
values himself on, is his stock of local information, having
the most marvellous stories to relate of every tower, and
vault, and gateway of the fortress, in all of which he places
the most implicit faith.

Most of these he has derived, according to his own
account, from his grandfather, a little legendary tailor,
who lived to the age of nearly a hundred years, during
which he made but two migrations beyond the precincts of
the fortress. His shop, for the greater part of a century,
was the resort of a knot of venerable gossips, where they
would pass half the night talking about old times, and the
wonderful events and hidden secrets of the place. The
whole living, moving, thinking, and acting of this his-
torical little tailor, had thus been bounded by the walls of
the Alhambra ; within them he had been born; within
them he lived, breathed, and had his being ; within them
he died, and was buried. Fortunately for posterity, his
traditionary lore died not with him. The authentic
Mateo, when an urchin, used to be an attentive listener to
the narratives of his grandfather, and of the gossip group
assembled round the shop-board ; and is thus possessed of
a stock of valuable knowledge concerning the Alhambra,
not to be found in books, and well worthy the attention of
every curious traveller.

Such are the personages that contribute to my domestic
comforts in the Alhambra ; and I question whether any of
the potentates, Moslem or Christian, who have preceded
me in the palace, have been waited upon with greater
fidelity, or enjoyed a serener sway.

When I rise in the morning, Pepe, the stuttering lad
D 2

S6 THE ALHAMBBA.

from the gardens, brings me a tribute of fresh-culled
flowers, which are afterwards arranged in vases -by the
skilful hand of Dolores, who takes a female pride in the
decorations of my chamber. My meals are made where-
ever caprice dictates ; sometimes in one of the Moorish
halls, sometimes under the arcades of the Court of Lions,
surrounded by flowers and fountains : and, when I walk
out, I am conducted by the assiduous Mateo to the most
romantic retreats of the mountains, and delicious haunts of
the adjacent valleys, not one of which but is the scene of
some wonderful tale.

Though fond of passing the greater part of my day
alone, yet I occasionally repair in the evenings to the
little domestic circle of Dofia Antonia. This is generally
held in an old Moorish chamber, that serves for kitchen as
well as hall, a rude fireplace having been made in one
corner, the smoke from which has discoloured the walls,
and almost obliterated the ancient Arabesques. A window,
with a balcony overhanging the valley of the Darro, lets in
the cool evening breeze ; and here I take my frugal
supper of fruit and milk, and mingle with the conversation
of the family. There is a natural talent, or mother wit,
as it is called, about the Spaniards, which renders them
intellectual and agreeable companions, whatever may be
their condition in life, or however imperfect may have
been their education : add to this, they are never vulgar ;
nature has endowed them with an inherent dignity of
spirit. The good Tia Antonia is a woman of strong and
intelligent, though uncultivated, mind ; and the bright-
eyed Dolores, though she has read but three or four books
in the whole course of her life, has an engaging mixture
of naivete and good sense, and often surprises me by the
pungency of her artless sallies. Sometimes the nephew
entertains us by reading some old comedy of Calderon or
Lope de Vega, to which he is evidently prompted bya
desire to improve, as well as amuse his cousin Dolores ;
though, to his great mortification, the little damsel gene-
rally falls asleep before the first act is completed. Some-
times Tia Antonia has a little levee of humble friends and
dependents; the inhabitants of the adjacent hamlet, or

THE TRUANT. 37

the wives of the invalid soldiers. These look up to her
with great deference, as the custodian of the palace, and
pay their court to her by bringing the news of the place, or
the rumours that may have straggled up from Granada.
In listening to these evening gossipings I have picked up
many curious facts, illustrative of the manners of the
people, and the peculiarities of the neighbourhood.

These are simple details of simple pleasures : it is the
nature of the place alone that gives them interest and
importance. I tread haunted ground, and am surrounded
by romantic associations. From earliest boyhood, when,
on the banks of the Hudson, I first pored over the pages
of an old Spanish story about the wars of Granada, that
city has ever been a subject of my waking dreams ; and
often have I trod in fancy the romantic halls of the
Alhambra. Behold, for once, a day-dream realised ! yet
I can scarce credit my senses, or believe that I do indeed
inhabit the palace of Boabdil, and look down from its
balconies upon chivalric Granada. As I loiter through
these Oriental chambers, and hear the murmur of foun-
tains, and the song of the nightingale ; as I inhale the
odour of the rose, and feel the influence of the balmy
climate ; I am almost tempted to fancy myself in the
paradise of Mahomet, and that the plump little Dolores is
one of the bright-eyed houris, destined to administer
to the happiness of true believers.

THE TRUANT.

SINCE noting the foregoing pages, we have had a scene of
petty tribulation in the Alhambra, which has thrown a
cloud over the sunny countenance of Dolores. This little
damsel has a female passion for pets of all kinds, and from
the superabundant kindness of her disposition, one of the
ruined courts of the Alhambra is thronged with her
favourites. A stately peacock and his hen seem to hold
regal sway here, over pompous turkeys, querulous guinea-
D 3

S8 THE ALHAMBBA.

fowls,, and a rabble rout of common cocks and hens. The
great delight of Dolores, however, has for some time past
been centred in a youthful pair of pigeons, who have
lately entered into the holy state of wedlock, and who have
even supplanted a tortoiseshell cat and kittens in her
affections.

As a tenement for them wherein to commence house-
keeping, she had fitted up a small chamber adjacent to the
kitchen, the window of which looked into one of the quiet
Moorish courts. Here they lived in happy ignorance of
any world beyond the court and its sunny roofs. Never
had they aspired to soar above the battlements, or to mount
to the summit of the towers. Their virtuous union was
at length crowned by two spotless and milk-white eggs, to
the great joy of their cherishing little mistress. Nothing
could be more praiseworthy than the conduct of the
young married folks on this interesting occasion. They
took turns to sit upon the nest until the eggs were hatched,
and while their callow progeny required warmth and
shelter ; while one thus stayed at home, the other foraged
abroad for food, and brought home abundant supplies.

This scene of conjugal felicity has suddenly met with a
reverse. Early this morning, as Dolores was feeding the
male pigeon, she took a fancy to give him a peep at the
great world. Opening a window, therefore, which looks
down upon the valley of the Darro, she launched him at
once beyond the walls of the Alhambra. For the first
time in his life the astonished bird had to try the full
vigour of his wings. He swept down into the valley, and
then rising upwards with a surge, soared almost to the
clouds. Never before had he risen to such a height, or
experienced such delight in flying ; and, like a young
spendthrift just come to his estate, he seemed giddy with
excess of liberty, and with the boundless field of action
suddenly opened to him. For the whole day he has been
circling about in capricious flights, from tower to tower,
and tree to tree. Every attempt has been vain to lure
him back by scattering grain upon the roofs ; he seems to
have lost all thought of home, of his tender helpmate and
his callow young. To add to the anxiety of Dolores, he

THE TRUANT. SQ

has been joined by two palomas ladrones, or robber pigeons,
whose instinct it is to entice wandering pigeons to their
own dovecotes. The fugitive, like many other thoughtless
youths on their first launching upon the world, seems
quite fascinated with these knowing, but graceless com-
panions, who have undertaken to show him life, and intro-
duce him to society. He has been soaring with them over
all the roofs and steeples of Granada. A thunder-storm
has passed over the city, but he has not sought his home ;
night has closed in, and still he comes not. To deepen
the pathos of the affair, the female pigeon, after remaining
several hours on the nest, without being relieved, at length
went forth to seek her recreant mate ; but stayed away so
long that the young ones perished for want of the warmth
and shelter of the parent bosom. At a late hour in the
evening, word was brought to Dolores, that the truant bird
had been seen upon the towers of the Generalife. Now it
happens that the Administrador of that ancient palace has
likewise a dovecote, among the inmates of which are said
to be two or three of these inveigling birds, the terror of
all neighbouring pigeon-fanciers. Dolores immediately
concluded, that the two feathered sharpers who had been
seen with her fugitive, were these bloods of the Generalife.
A council of war was forthwith held in the chamber of
Tia Antonia. The Generalife is a distinct jurisdiction
from the Alhambra, and of course some punctilio, if not
jealousy, exists between their custodians. It was deter-
mined, therefore, to send Pepe, the stuttering lad of the
gardens, as ambassador to the Administrador, requesting,
that if such fugitive should be found in his dominions, he
might be given up as a subject of the Alhambra. Pe'pe
departed accordingly, on his diplomatic expedition, through
the moonlight groves and avenues, but returned in an
hour with the afflicting intelligence that no such bird was
to be found in the dovecote of the Generalife. The Ad-
ministrador, however, pledged his sovereign word that if
such vagrant should appear there, even at midnight, he
should instantly be arrested, and sent back prisoner to his
little black-eyed mistress.

Thus stands the melancholy affair, which has occasioned
D 4

40 THE ALHAMBRA.

much distress throughout the palace,, and has sent the in-
consolable Dolores to a sleepless pillow.

" Sorrow endureth for a night," says the proverb, " but
joy cometh in the morning." The first object that met
my eyes, on leaving my room this morning, was Dolores,
with the truant pigeon in her hands, and her eyes sparkling
with joy. He had appeared at an early hour on the battle-
ments, hovering shyly about from roof to roof, but at
length entered the window, and surrendered himself pri-
soner. He gained little credit, however, by his return ;
for the ravenous manner in which he devoured the food
set before him, showed that, like the prodigal son, he had
been driven home by sheer famine. Dolores upbraided
him for his faithless conduct, calling him all manner of
vagrant names (though, woman like, she fondled him at
the same time to her bosom, and covered him with kisses).
I observed, however, that she had taken care to clip his
wings to prevent all future soarings ; a precaution, which
I mention, for the benefit of all those who have truant
lovers or wandering husbands. More than one valuable
moral might be drawn from the story of Dolores and her
pigeon.

THE AUTHOR'S CHAMBER.

ON taking up my abode in the Alhambra, one end of a
suite of empty chambers of modern architecture, intended
for the residence of the governor, was fitted up for my
reception. It was in front of the palace, looking forth
upon the esplanade ; the further end communicated with a
cluster of little chambers, partly Moorish, partly modern,
inhabited by Tia Antonia and her family ; these termi-
nated in the large room, already mentioned, which serves
the good old dame for parlour, kitchen, and hall of audi-
ence. From these gloomy apartments, a narrow blind
corridor, and a dark winding staircase, led down an angle
of the tower of Comares ; groping along which, and open-
ing a small door at the bottom, you were suddenly dazzled

THE AUTHOR'S CHAMBER. 41

by emerging into the brilliant antechamber of the Hall
of Ambassadors, with the fountain of the Court of the
Alberca sparkling before you.

1 was dissatisfied with being lodged in a modern and
frontier apartment of the palace, and longed to ensconce
myself in the very heart of the building. As I was ram-
bling one day about the Moorish halls, I found in a re-
mote gallery, a door which I had not before noticed,
communicating apparently with an extensive apartment,
locked up from the public. Here then was a mystery ;
here was the haunted wing of the castle. I procured the
key, however, without difficulty; the door opened to a
range of vacant chambers of European architecture, though
built over a Moorish arcade, along the little garden of
Lindaraxa. There were two lofty rooms, the ceilings of
which, broken in many places, were of deep panel-work
of cedar, richly and skilfully carved with fruits and flowers,
intermingled with grotesque masks. The walls had evi-
dently, in ancient times, been hung with damask, but were
now naked, and scrawled over with the insignificant names
of aspiring travellers ; the windows, which were dismantled
and open to wind and weather, looked into the garden of
Lindaraxa, and the orange and citron trees flung their
branches into the chamber. Beyond these rooms were two
saloons, less lofty, looking also into the garden. In the
compartments of the panelled ceilings, were baskets of
fruit and garlands of flowers, painted by no mean hand,
and in tolerable preservation. The walls had also been
painted in fresco in the Italian style, but the paintings
were nearly obliterated ; the windows were in the same
shattered state as in the other chambers. This fanciful
suite of rooms terminated in an open gallery with balus-
trades, which ran at right angles along another side of the
garden. The whole apartment had a delicacy and elegance
in its decorations, and there was something so choice and
sequestered in its situation, along this retired little garden,
that it awakened an interest in its history. I found, on
inquiry, that it was an apartment fitted up by Italian
artists in the early part of the last century, at the time
when Philip V. and the beautiful Elizabetta of Parma

42 THE ALHAMBRA.

were expected at the Alhambra ; and was destined for the
Queen and the ladies of her train. One of the loftiest
chambers had been her sleeping. room ; and a narrow
staircase leading from it, though now walled up, opened to
the delightful belvidere, originally a mirador of the
Moorish Sultanas,, but fitted up as a boudoir for the fair
Elizabetta, and which still retains the name of the tocador,
or toilet, of the Queen. The sleeping-room I have men-
tioned, commanded from one window a prospect of the
Generalife and its embowered terraces: under another
window played the alabaster fountain of the garden of
Lindaraxa. That garden carried my thoughts still fur-
ther back to the period of another reign of beauty ; to the
days of the Moorish Sultanas.

" How beauteous is this garden ! " says an Arabic in-
scription, " where the flowers of the earth vie with the
stars of heaven ! What can compare with the vase of yon
alabaster fountain, filled with crystal water ? Nothing
but the moon in her fulness, shining in the midst of an
unclouded sky !"

Centuries had elapsed, yet how much of this scene of
apparently fragile beauty remained. The garden of Lin-
daraxa was still adorned with flowers ; the fountain still
presented its crystal mirror ; it is true, the alabaster had
lost its whiteness, and the basin beneath, overrun with
weeds, had become the nestling-place of the lizard ; but
there was something in the very decay that enhanced the
interest of the scene, speaking as it did of that mutability
which is the irrevocable lot of man and all his works.
The desolation, too, of these chambers, once the abode of
the proud and elegant Elizabetta, had a more touching
charm for me than if I had beheld them in their pristine
splendour, glittering with the pageantry of a court. I de-
termined at once to take up my quarters in this apartment.

My determination excited great surprise in the family,
who could not imagine any rational inducement for the
choice of so solitary, remote, and forlorn apartment. The
good Tia Antonia considered it highly dangerous ; the
neighbourhood, she said, was infested by vagrants ; the
caverns of the adjacent hills swarmed with gipsies ; the

THE AUTHOR'S CHAMBER. 43

palace was ruinous, and easy to be entered in many parts ;
and the rumour of a stranger quartered alone in one of the
ruined apartments, out of the hearing of the rest of the
inhabitants, might tempt unwelcome visiters in the night,
especially as foreigners are always supposed to be well
stocked with money. Dolores represented the frightful
loneliness of the place, nothing but bats and owls flitting
about ; then there were a fox and a wild cat, that kept
about the vaults and roamed about at night.

I was not to be diverted from my humour ; so calling
in the assistance of a carpenter, and the ever officious
Mateo Ximenes, the doors and windows were soon placed
in a state of tolerable security. With all these precautions,
I must confess the first night I passed in these quarters
was inexpressibly dreary. I was escorted by the whole
family to my chamber ; and their taking leave of me, and
returning along the waste antechambers and echoing gal-
leries, reminded me of those hobgoblin stories, where the
hero is left to accomplish the adventure of an enchanted
house.

Even the thoughts of the fair Elizabetta, and the beauties
of her court, who had once graced these chambers, now,
by a perversion of fancy, added to the gloom. Here was
the scene of their transient gaiety and loveliness ; here were
the very traces of their elegance and enjoyment. But
what and where were they ? Dust and ashes ! tenants of
the tomb ! phantoms of the memory !

A vague and indescribable awe was creeping over me.
I would fain have ascribed it to the thoughts of robbers
awakened by the evening's conversation, but I felt that it
was something more unreal and absurd. In a word, the
long-buried impressions of the nursery were reviving, and
asserting their power over my imaginations. Every thing
began to be affected by the working of my mind. The
whispering of the wind among the citron trees beneath my
window had something sinister. I cast my eyes into the
garden of Lindaraxa; the groves presented a gulf of
shadows ; the thickets, indistinct and ghastly shapes. I
was glad to close the window, but my chamber itself be-
came infected. A bat had found its way in, and flitted

44 THE ALHAMBRA.

about ray head and athwart my solitary lamp ; the gro-
tesque faces carved in the cedar ceiling seemed to mope
and mow at me.

Rousing myself, and half smiling at this temporary
weakness, I resolved to brave it ; and, taking lamp in
hand, sallied forth to make a tour of the ancient palace.
Notwithstanding every mental exertion, the task was a
severe one. The rays of my lamp extended to but a limited
distance around me ; I walked as it were in a mere halo
of light, and all beyond was thick darkness. The vaulted
corridors were as caverns ; the vaults of the halls were lost
in gloom ; what unseen foe might not be lurking before or
behind me ! my own shadow playing about the walls and
the echoes of my own footsteps disturbed me.

In this excited state, as I was traversing the great Hall
of Ambassadors, there were added real sounds to these
conjectural fancies. Low moans and indistinct ejaculations
seemed to rise as it were beneath my feet ; I paused and
listened. They then appeared to resound from without
the tower. Sometimes they resembled the bowlings of an
animal ; at others they were stifled shrieks, mingled with
articulate ravings. The thrilling effect of these sounds in
that still hour and singular place, destroyed all inclination
to continue my lonely perambulation. I returned to my
chamber with more alacrity than I had sallied forth, and
drew my breath more freely when once more within its
walls and the door bolted behind me. When I awoke in
the morning with the sun shining in at my window, and
lighting up every part of the building with his cheerful
and truth-telling beams, I could scarcely recall the shadows
and fancies conjured up by the gloom of the preceding
night, or believe that the scenes around me, so naked and
apparent, could have been clothed with such imaginary
horrors.

Still, the dismal bowlings and ejaculations I had heard
were not ideal ; but they were soon accounted for by my
handmaid Dolores ; being the ravings of a poor maniac, a
brother of her aunt, who was subject to violent paroxysms,
during which he was confined in a vaulted room beneath
the Hall of Ambassadors.

45

THE ALHAMBRA BY MOONLIGHT.

I HAVE given a picture of my apartment on my first taking
possession of it ; a few evenings have produced a thorough
change in the scene and in my feelings. The rnoon, which
then was invisible, has gradually gained upon the night,
and now rolls in full splendour above the towers, pouring
a flood of tempered light into every court and hall. The
garden beneath my window is gently lighted up ; the
orange and citron trees are tipped with silver ; the fountain
sparkles in the moonbeams, and even the blush of the
rose is faintly visible.

I have sat for hours at my window, inhaling the sweet-
ness of the garden, and musing on the chequered fortunes
of those whose history is dimly shadowed out in the ele-
gant memorials around. Sometimes I have issued forth
at midnight, when every thing was quiet, and have wan-
dered over the whole building. Who can do justice to a
moonlight night in such a climate and in such a place ?
The temperature of an Andalusian midnight in summer is
perfectly ethereal. We seem lifted up into a purer atmo-
sphere ; there is a serenity of soul, a buoyancy of spirits,
an elasticity of frame, that renders mere existence enjoy-
ment. The effect of moonlight, too, on the Alhambra, has
something like enchantment. Every rent and chasm of
time, every mouldering tint and weather- stain disappears ;
the marble resumes its original whiteness ; the long colon-
nades brighten in the moonbeams ; the halls are illuminated
with a softened radiance, until the whole edifice reminds
one of the enchanted palace of an Arabian tale.

At such a time I have ascended to the little pavilion
called the Queen's To let, to enjoy its varied and extensive
prospect. To the right, the snowy summits of the Sierra
Nevada would gleam like silver clouds against the darker
firmament, and all the outlines of the mountain would be
softened, yet delicately defined. My delight, however^

46 THE ALHAMBRA.

would be to lean over the parapet of the tocador, and gaze
down upon Granada, spread out like a map below me ; all
buried in deep repose, and its white palaces and convents
sleeping, as it were, in the moonshine.

Sometimes I would hear the faint sounds of castanets
from some party of dancers lingering in the Alameda ; at
other times I have heard the dubious tones of a guitar, and
the notes of a single voice rising from some solitary street,
and have pictured to myself some youthful cavalier se-
renading his lady's window ; a gallant custom of former
days, but now sadly on the decline, except in the remote
towns and villages of Spain. Such are the scenes that
have detained me for many an hour loitering about the
courts and balconies of the castle, enjoying that mixture
of reverie and sensation which steal away existence in a
southern climate, and it has been almost morning before I
have retired to my bed, and been lulled to sleep by the
falling waters of the fountain of Lindaraxa.

INHABITANTS OF THE ALHAMBRA.

I HAVE often observed that the more proudly a mansion
has been tenanted in the day of its prosperity, the humbler
are its inhabitants in the day of its decline, and that the
palace of the king commonly ends in being the nestling-
place of the beggar.

The Alhambra is in a rapid state of similar transition.
Whenever a tower falls to decay, it is seized upon by some
tatterdemalion family, who become joint tenants, with the
bats and owls, of its gilded halls; and hang their rags, those
standards of poverty, out of its windows and loopholes.

I have amused myself with remarking some of the mot-
ley characters that have thus usurped the ancient abode of
Royalty, and who seem as if placed here to give a farcical
termination to the drama of human pride. One of these
even bears the mockery of a regal title. It is a little old

INHABITANTS OF THE ALHAMBRA. 47

woman named Maria Antonia Sabonea, but who goes by
the appellation of la Reyna Cuquina, or the Cockle- queen.
She is small enough to be a fairy, and a fairy she may be
for aught I can find out, for no one seems to know her
origin. Her habitation is in a kind of closet under the
outer staircase of the palace, and she sits in the cool stone
corridor, plying her needle and singing from morning till
night, with a ready joke for every one that passes ; for
though one of the poorest, she is one of the merriest little
women breathing. Her great merit is a gift for story-
telling, having, I verily believe, as many stories at her com-
mand, as the inexhaustible Scheherezade of the thousand
and one nights. Some of these I have heard her relate in
the evening tertulias of Dame Antonia, at which she is oc-
casionally a humble attendant.

That there must, be some fairy gift about this mysterious
little old woman, would appear from her extraordinary luck,
since, notwithstanding her being very little, very ugly, and
very poor, she has had, according to her own account, five
husbands and a half, reckoning as a half one, a young dra-
goon who died during courtship. A rival personage to this
little fairy queen, is a portly old fellow with a bottle nose,
who goes about in a rusty garb with a cocked hat of oil-skin
and a red cockade. He is one of the legitimate sons of the
Alhambra, and has lived here all his life, filling various
offices, such as deputy alguazil, sexton of the parochial
church, and marker of a fives' court established at the foot
of one of the towers. He is as poor as a rat, but as proud
as he is ragged, boasting of his descent from the illustrious
house of Aguilar, from which sprang Gonsalvo of Cordova,
the grand captain. Nay, he actually bears the name of
Alonzo de Aguilar, so renowned in the history of the con-
quest; though the graceless wags of the fortress have given
him the title of el Padre Santo, or the Holy Father, the usual
appellation of the Pope, which I had thought too sacred in
the eyes of true Catholics to be thus ludicrously applied.
It is a whimsical caprice of fortune to present, in the gro-
tesque person of this tatterdemalion, a namesake and de-
scendant of the proud Alonzo de Aguilar, the mirror of
Andalusian chivalry, leading an almost mendicant existence

48 THE ALHAMBRA.

about this once haughty fortress, which his ancestor aided
to reduce; yet such might have been the lot of the descend-
ants of Agamemnon and Achilles, had they lingered about
the ruins of Troy !

Of this motley community, I find the family of my gos-
siping 'squire, Mateo Ximenes, to form, from their numbers
at least, a very important part. His boast of being a son
of the Alhambra is not unfounded. His family has inha-
bited the fortress ever since the time of the Conquest, hand-
ing down a hereditary poverty from father to son; not one
of them having ever been known to be worth a maravedi.
His father, by trade a riband-weaver, and who succeeded
the historical tailor as the head of the family, is now near
seventy years of age, and lives in a hovel of reeds and
plaster, built by his own hands just above the iron gate.
The furniture consists of a crazy bed, a table, and two or
three chairs ; a wooden chest, containing his clothes and
the archives of his family ; that is to say, a few papers
concerning old lawsuits, which he cannot read : but the
pride of his hovel is a blazon of the arms of the family,
brilliantly coloured, and suspended in a frame against the
wall ; clearly demonstrating by its quarterings the various
noble houses with which this poverty-stricken brood claim
affinity.

As to Mateo himself, he has done his utmost to per-
petuate his line, having a wife and a numerous progeny,
who inhabit an almost dismantled hovel in the hamlet.
How they manage to subsist, he only who sees into all
mysteries can tell ; the subsistence of a Spanish family of
the kind is always a riddle to me ; yet they do subsist,
and, what is more, appear to enjoy their existence. The
wife takes her holiday stroll in the Paseo of Granada, with
a child in her arms and half a dozen at her heels ; and the
eldest daughter, now verging into womanhood, dresses her
hair with flowers, and dances gaily to the castanets.

There are two classes of people to whom life seems one
long holiday — the very rich, and the very poor; one because
they need do nothing, the other because they have nothing
to do ; but there are none who understand the art of doing
nothing and living upon nothing, better than the poor

INHABITANTS OF THE ALIIAMBRA. 49

classes of Spain. Climate does one half, and temperament
the rest. Give a Spaniard the shade in summer, and the
sun in winter ; a little bread, garlick, oil, and garbances,
an old brown cloak and a guitar, and let the world roll on
as it pleases. Talk of poverty ! with him it has no disgrace.
It sits upon him with a grandiose style, like his ragged
cloak. He is a hidalgo, even when in rags.

The "sons of the Alhambra" are an eminent illustration
of this practical philosophy. As the Moors imagined that
the celestial paradise hung over this favoured spot, so I am
inclined at times to fancy, that a gleam of the golden age
still lingers about the ragged community. They possess
nothing, they do nothing, they care for nothing. Yet,
though apparently idle all the week, they are as observant
of all holy days and saints' days as the most laborious artisan.
They attend all fetes and dancings in Granada and its vici-
nity, light bonfires on the hills on St. John's eve, and have
lately danced away the moonlight nights on the harvest
home of a small field within the precincts of the fortress,
which yielded a few bushels of wheat.

Before concluding these remarks, I must mention one of
the amusements of the place which has particularly struck
me. I had repeatedly observed a long lean fellow perched
on the top of one of the towers, manoeuvring two or three
fishing-rods, as though he were angling for the stars. I was
for some time perplexed by the evolutions of this aerial
fisherman, and my perplexity increased on observing others
employed in like manner on different parts of the battle-
ments and bastions ; it was not until I consulted Mateo
Ximenes, that I solved the mystery.

It seems that the pure and airy situation of this fortress
has rendered it, like the castle of Macbeth, a prolific breed-
ing-place for swallows and martlets, who sport about its
towers in myriads, with the holyday glee of urchins just let
loose from school. To entrap these birds in their giddy
circlings, with hooks baited with flies, is one of the favourite
amusements of the ragged " sons of the Alhambra," who,
with the good-for-nothing ingenuity of arrant idlers, have
thus invented the art of angling in the sky !

50 THE ALHAMBRA.

THE COURT OF LIONS.

THE peculiar charm of this old dreamy palace, is its
power of calling up vague reveries and picturings of the
past, and thus clothing naked realities with the illusions
of the memory and the imagination. As I delight to
walk in these " vain shadows," I am prone to seek those
parts of the Alhambra which are most favourable to this
phantasmagoria of the mind ; and none are more so than
the Court of Lions, and its surrounding halls. Here the
hand of time has fallen the lightest, and the traces of
Moorish elegance and splendour exist in almost their ori-
ginal brilliancy. Earthquakes have shaken the foundations
of this pile, and rent its rudest towers ; yet see ! not one
of those slender columns has been displaced, not an arch of
that light and fragile colonnade has given way, and all the
fairy fretwork of these domes, apparently as unsubstantial
as the crystal fabrics of a morning's frost, yet exist after
the lapse of centuries, almost as fresh as if from the hand
of the Moslem artist. I write in the midst of these me-
mentos of the past, in the fresh hour of early morning, in
the fated Hall of the Abencerrages. The blood-stained
fountain, the legendary monument of their massacre, is
before me ; the lofty jet almost casts its dew upon my
paper. How difficult to reconcile the ancient tale of vio-
lence and blood with the gentle and peaceful scene around !
Every thing here appears calculated to inspire kind and
happy feelings, for every thing is delicate and beautiful.
The very light falls tenderly from above, through the
lantern of a dome tinted and wrought as if by fairy hands.
Through the ample and fretted arch of the portal I behold
the Court of Lions, with brilliant sunshine gleaming along
its colonnades, and sparkling in its fountains. The lively
swallow dives into the Court, and then, surging upwards,
darts away twittering over the roofs ; the busy bee toils
humming among the flower-beds, and painted butterflies

THE COURT OF LIONS. 51

>ver from plant to plant, and flutter up and sport with
ch other in the sunny air. It needs but a slight exertion
the fancy to picture some pensive beauty of the harem,
itering in these secluded haunts of Oriental luxury.
He, however, who would behold this scene under an
aspect more in unison with its fortunes, let him come when
the shadows of evening temper the brightness of the
Court, and throw a gloom into the surrounding halls.
Then nothing can be more serenely melancholy, or more
in harmony with the tale of departed grandeur.

At such times I am apt to seek the Hall of Justice,
whose deep shadowy arcades extend across the upper end
of the Court. Here was performed, in presence of Fer-
dinand and Isabella, and their triumphant Court, the
pompous ceremonial of high mass, on taking possession of
the Alhambra. The very cross is still to be seen upon the
wall, where the altar was erected, and where officiated the
Grand Cardinal of Spain, and others of the highest reli-
gious dignitaries of the land. I picture to myself the
scene when this place was filled with the conquering host,
that mixture of mitred prelate and shaven monk, and steel-
clad knight and silken courtier ; when crosses and crosiers,
and religious standards, were mingled with proud armorial
ensigns and the banners of the haughty chiefs of Spain,
and flaunted in triumph through these Moslem halls. I
picture to myself Columbus, the future discoverer of a
world, taking his modest stand in a remote corner, the
humble and neglected spectator of the pageant. I see in
imagination the Catholic sovereigns prostrating themselves
before the altar, and pouring forth thanks for their vic-
tory ; while the vaults resounded with sacred minstrelsy,
and the deep-toned Te Deum.

The transient illusion is over — the pageant melts from
the fancy — monarch, priest, and warrior, return into ob-
livion, with the poor Moslems over whom they exulted.
The hall of their triumph is waste and desolate. The bat
flits about its twilight vault, and the owl hoots from the
neighbouring tower of Comares.

On entering the Court of the Lions, a few evenings
since, I was startled at beholding a turbaned Moor quietly
E 2

52 THE ALIJAMBBA.

seated near the fountain. It seemed, for a moment, as if
one of the superstitions of the place were realised, and some
ancient inhabitant of the Alhambra had broken the spell
of centuries, and become visible. He proved, however, to
be a mere ordinary mortal ; a native of Tetuan in Barbary,
who had a shop in the Zacatin of Granada, where he sold
rhubarb, trinkets, and perfumes. As he spoke Spanish
fluently, I was enabled to hold conversation with him, and
found him shrewd and intelligent. He told me that he
came up the hill occasionally in the summer, to pass a part
of the day in the Alhambra, which reminded him of the
old palaces in Barbary, being built and adorned in similar
style, though with more magnificence.

As we walked about the palace, he pointed out several
of the Arabic inscriptions, as possessing much poetic
beauty.

Ah, senor, said he, when the Moors held Granada, they
were a gayer people than they are nowadays. They
thought only of love, of music, and poetry. They made
stanzas upon every occasion, and set them all to music.
He who could make the best verses, and she who had the
most tuneful voice, might be sure of favour and prefer-
ment. In those days, if any one asked for bread, the reply
was, make me a couplet; and the poorest beggar, if he
begged in rhyme, would often be rewarded with a piece of
gold.

" And is the popular feeling for poetry," said I, f< en-
tirely lost among you ? "

(f By no means, senor, the people of Barbary, even those
of the lower classes, still make couplets, and good ones too,
as in the olden time ; but talent is not rewarded as it was
then; the rich prefer the jingle of their gold to the sound
of poetry or music." «

As he was talking, his eye caught one of the inscriptions
that foretold perpetuity to the power and glory of the
Moslem monarchs, the masters of this pile. He shook his
head, and shrugged his shoulders, as he interpreted it.
" Such might have been the case," said he ; " the Moslems
might still have been reigning in the Alhambra, had not
Boabdil been a traitor, and given up his capital to the

THE COURT OF LIONS, 53

Christians. The Spanish monarchs would never have been
able to conquer it by open force,"

I endeavoured to vindicate the memory of the unlucky
Boabdil from this aspersion, and to show that the dissensions
which led to the downfal of the Moorish throne originated
in the cruelty of his tiger-hearted father; but the Moor
would admit of no palliation.

"Muley Hassan," said he, " might have been cruel; but
he was brave, vigilant, and patriotic. Had he been pro-
perly seconded, Granada would still have been ours ; but
his son Boabdil thwarted his plans, crippled his power,
sowed treason in his palace, and dissension in his camp.
May the curse of God light upon him for his treachery ! "
"With these words the Moor left the Alhambra.

The indignation of my turbaned companion agrees with
an anecdote related by a friend, who, in the course of a tour
in Barbary, had an interview with the Pacha of Tetuan.
The Moorish governor was particular in his inquiries about
the soil, and especially concerning the favoured regions of
Andalusia, the delights of Granada, and the remains of its
royal palace. The replies awakened all those fond recol-
lections, so deeply cherished by the Moors, of the power
and splendour of their ancient empire in Spain. Turning
to his Moslem attendants, the Pacha stroked his beard, and
broke forth in passionate lamentations, that such a sceptre
should have fallen from the sway of true believers. He con-
soled himself, however, with the persuasion, that the power
and prosperity of the Spanish nation were on the decline ;
that a time would come when the Moors would conquer
their rightful domains; and that the day was, perhaps, not
far distant, when Mahommedan worship would again be
offered up in the Mosque of Cordova, and a Mahommedan
prince sit on his throne in the Alhambra.

Such is the general aspiration and belief among the
Moors of Barbary ; who consider Spain, and especially
Andalusia, their rightful heritage, of which they have been
despoiled by treachery and violence. These ideas are fos-
tered and perpetuated by the descendants of the exiled
Moors of Granada, scattered among the cities of Barbary.
Several of these reside in Tetuan, preserving their ancient
E 3

54 THE ALIIAM3RA.

names, such as Paez and Medina,, and refraining from in-
termarriage with any families who cannot claim the same
high origin. Their vaunted lineage is regarded with a
degree of popular deference, rarely shown in Mahommedan
communities to any hereditary distinction, except in the
royal line.

These families, it is said, continue to sigh after the ter-
restrial paradise of their ancestors, and to put up prayers in
their mosques on Fridays, imploring Allah to hasten the
time when Granada shall be restored to the faithful : an
event to which they look forward as fondly and confidently
as did the Christian crusaders to the recovery of the Holy
Sepulchre. Nay, it is added, that some of them retain the
ancient maps and deeds of the estates and gardens of their
ancestors at Granada, and even the keys of the houses;
holding them as evidences of their hereditary claims, to be
produced at the anticipated day of restoration.

The Court of the Lions has also its share of supernatural
legends. I have already mentioned the belief in the mur-
muring of voices and clanking of chains, made at night by
the spirits of the murdered Abencerrages. Mateo Ximenes, a
few evenings since, at one of the gatherings in Dame An-
tonia's apartment, related a fact which happened within the
knowledge of his grandfather, the legendary tailor.

There was an invalid soldier, who had charge of the
Alhambra to show it to strangers. As he was one evening,
about twilight, passing through the Court of Lions, he
heard footsteps in the hall of the Abencerrages. Supposing
some visiters to be lingering there, he advanced to attend
upon them, when to his astonishment he beheld four Moors
richly dressed, with gilded cuirasses and scimitars, and
poniards glittering with precious stones. They were walk-
ing to and fro, with solemn pace; but paused and beckoned
to him. The old soldier, however, took to flight, and could
never afterwards be prevailed upon to enter the Alhambra.
Thus it is that men sometimes turn their backs upon for-
tune ; for it is the firm opinion of Mateo, that the Moors
intended to reveal the place where their treasures lay buried.
A successor to the invalid soldier was more knowing : he
came to the Alhambra poor ; but at the end of a year went

BOABDIL EL CHICO. 55

off to Malaga, bought houses, set up a carriage, and still
lives there one of the richest as well as oldest men of the
place; all which, Mateo sagely surmises, was in consequence
of his finding out the golden secret of these phantom Moors.

BOABDIL EL CHICO.

MY conversation with the Moor in the Court of Lions set
me to musing on the singular fate of Boabdil. Never was
surname more applicable than that bestowed upon him by
his subjects, of " el Zogoybi," or " the unlucky." His
misfortunes began almost in his cradle. In his tender
youth, he was imprisoned and menaced with death by an
inhuman father, and only escaped through a mother's stra-
tagem ; in after-years, his life was embittered and repeat-
edly endangered, by the hostilities of a usurping uncle ; his
reign was distracted by external invasions and internal feuds :
he was alternately the foe, the prisoner, the friend, and
always the dupe, of Ferdinand, until conquered and de-
throned by the mingled craft and force of that perfidious
monarch. An exile from his native land, he took refuge
with one of the princes of Africa, and fell obscurely in bat-
tle, fighting in the cause of a stranger. His misfortunes
ceased not with his death. If Boabdil cherished a desire to
leave an honourable name on the historic page, how cruelly
has he been defrauded of his hopes ! Who is there that
has turned the least attention to the romantic history of the
Moorish domination in Spain, without kindling with indigna-
tion at the alleged atrocities of Boabdil? Who has not been
touched with the woes of his lovely and gentle queen, sub-
jected by him to a trial of life and death, on a false charge
of infidelity ? Who has not been shocked by his alleged
murder of his sister and her two children, in a transport of
passion ? Who has not felt his blood boil at the inhuman
massacre of the gallant Abencerrages, thirty-six of whom,
it is affirmed, he ordered to be beheaded in the Court of
E 4

56 THE ALHAMBRA.

Lions ? All these charges have been reiterated in various
forms ; they have passed into ballads, dramas, and ro-
mances, until they have taken too thorough possession of the
public mind to be eradicated. There is not a foreigner of
education that visits the Alhambra, but asks for the foun-
tain where the Abencerrages were beheaded; and gazes
with horror at the grated gallery where the Queen is said
to have been confined ; not a peasant of the Vega or the
Sierra, but sings the story in rude couplets, to the accompa-
niment of his guitar, while his hearers learn to execrate the
very name of Boabdil.

Never, however, was name more foully and unjustly
slandered. I have examined all the authentic chronicles
and letters written by Spanish authors, contemporary with
Boabdil ; some of whom were in the confidence of the ca-
tholic sovereigns, and actually present in the camp through-
out the war. I have examined all the Arabian authorities
I could get access to, through the medium of translation,
and can find nothing to justify these dark and hateful ac-
cusations. The whole of these tales may be traced to a
work commonly called " The Civil Wars of Granada,"
containing a pretended history of the feuds of the- Zegries
and Abencerrages, during the last struggle of the Moorish
empire. This work appeared originally in Spanish, and
professed to be translated from the Arabic by one Gines
Perez de Hita, an inhabitant of Murcia. It has since
passed into various languages, and Florian has taken from
it much of the fable of his Gonsalvo of Cordova ; it has
thus, in a great measure, usurped the authority of real his-
tory, and is currently believed by the people, and especially
the peasantry, of Granada. The whole of it, however, is a
mass of fiction, mingled with a few disfigured, truths, which
give it an air of veracity. It bears internal evidence of its
falsity ; the manners and customs of the Moors being ex-
travagantly misrepresented in it, and scenes depicted, totally
incompatible with their habits and their faith, and which
never could have been recorded by a Mahometan writer.

I confess there seems to me something almost criminal
in the wilful perversions of this work : great latitude is un-
doubtedly to be allowed to romantic fiction ; but there are

BOABDII, EL CHICO.

57

limits which it must not pass, and the names of the dis-
tinguished dead, which belong to history, are no more to
be calumniated than those of the illustrious living. One
would have thought, too, that the unfortunate Boabdil had
suffered enough for hris justifiable hostility to the Spaniards,
by being stripped of his kingdom, without having his name
thus wantonly traduced, and rendered a by-word and a
theme of infamy in his native land, and in the very mansion
of his fathers !

It is not intended hereby to affirm that the transactions
imputed to Boabdil are totally without historic foundation ;
but, as far as they can be traced, they appear to have been
the acts of his father, Aben Hassan, who is represented, by
both Christian and Arabian chroniclers, as being of a cruel
and ferocious nature. It was he who put to death the
cavaliers of the illustrious line of the Abencerrages, upon
suspicion of their- being engaged in a conspiracy to dis-
possess him of his throne.

The story of the accusation of the Queen of Boabdil,
and of her confinement in one of the towers, may also be
traced to an incident in the life of his tiger-hearted father.
Aben Hassan, in his advanced age, married a beautiful
Christian captive of noble descent, who took the Moorish
appellation of Zorayda, by whom he had two sons. She
was of an ambitious spirit, and anxious that her children
should succeed to the crown. For this purpose she worked
upon the suspicious temper of the king; inflaming him
with jealousies of his children by his other wives and con-
cubines, whom she accused of plotting against his throne
and life. Some of them were slain by the ferocious father.
Ayxa la Horra, the virtuous mother of Boabdil, who had
once been the cherished favourite of the tyrant, became like-
wise the object of his suspicion. He confined her and her
son in the tower of Comares, and would have sacrificed
Boabdil to his fury, but that his mother lowered him from
the tower, in the night, by means of the scarfs of herself
and her attendants, and thus enabled him to escape to
Guadix.

Such is the only shadow of a foundation that I can find
for the story of the accused and captive queen ; and in

58 THE ALHAMBUA.

this it appears that Boabdil was the persecuted, instead of
the persecutor.

Throughout the whole of his brief, turbulent, and dis-
astrous reign, Boabdil gives evidence of a mild and amiable
character. He, in the first instance, won the hearts of the
people by his affable and gracious manners ; he was always
placable, and never inflicted ar»y severity of punishment
upon those who occasionally rebelled against him. He
was personally brave, but he wanted moral courage ; and,
in times of difficulty and perplexity, was wavering and
irresolute. This feebleness of spirit hastened his downfal ,
while it deprived him of that heroic grace which would
have given a grandeur and dignity to his fate, and rendered
him worthy of closing the splendid drama of the Moslem
domination in Spain.

MEMENTOS OF BOABDIL.

WHILE my mind was still warm with the subject of the
unfortunate Boabdil, I set forth to trace the mementos con-
nected with his story, which yet exist in this scene of his
sovereignty and his misfortunes. In the picture-gallery
of the palace of the Generalife hangs his portrait. The
face is mild, handsome, and somewhat melancholy, with a
fair complexion and yellow hair ; if it be a true represent-
ation of the man, he may have been wavering and uncer-
tain, but there is nothing of cruelty or unkindness in his
aspect.

1 next visited the dungeon where he was confined in his
youthful days, when his cruel father meditated his destruc-
tion. It is a vaulted room in the tower of Comares, under
the Hall of Ambassadors : a similar room, separated by a
narrow passage, was the prison of his mother, the virtuous
Ayxa la Horra. The walls are of prodigious thickness,
and the small windows secured by iron bars. A narrow
stone gallery, with a low parapet, extends round three sides

.MKMKXTOS OF BOABDIL. 59

of the tower, just below the windows, but at a considerable
height from the ground. From this gallery , it is presumed
the queen lowered her son with the scarfs of herself and
her female attendants, during the darkness of night, to the
hill-side, at the foot of which waited a domestic with a
fleet steed to bear the prince to the mountains.

As I paced this gallery, my imagination pictured the
anxious queen leaning over the parapet, and listening, with
the throbbings of a mother's heart, to the last echoes of the
horse's hoofs, as her son scoured along the narrow valley
of the Darro.

My next search was for the gate by which Boabdil de-
parted from the Alhambra when about to surrender his
capital. With the melancholy caprice of a broken spirit,
he requested of the catholic monarchs, that no one after-
wards might be permitted to pass through this gate. His
prayer, according to ancient chronicles, was complied with,
through the sympathy of Isabella, and the gate walled up.
For some time I inquired in vain for such a portal; at
length, my humble attendant, Mateo, learned among the
old residents of the fortress, that a ruinous gateway still
existed, by which, according to tradition, the Moorish king
had left the fortress, but which had never been open within
the memory of the oldest inhabitant.

He conducted me to the spot. The gateway is in the
centre of what was once an immense tower, called la Torre
do los Siete Suelos, or, the Tower of Seven Floors. It is
a place famous, in the superstitious stories of the neighbour-
hood, for being the scene of strange apparitions and Moor-
ish enchantments.

This once redoubtable tower is now a mere wreck, having
been blown up with gunpowder by the French, when they
abandoned the fortress. Great masses of the wall lie
scattered about, buried in the luxuriant herbage, or over-
shadowed by vines and fig-trees. The arch of the gate-
way, though rent by the shock, still remains; but the
last wish of poor Boabdil has again, though unintentionally,
been fulfilled, for the portal has been closed up by loose
stones gathered from the ruins, and remains impassable.

Following up the route of the Moslem monarch, as it

60

THE ALHAMBRA.

remains on record,, I crossed on horseback the hill of Los
Martyros, keeping along the garden of the convent of the
same name, and thence down a rugged ravine, beset by
thickets of aloes and Indian figs, and lined by caves and
hovels swarming with gypsies. It was the road taken by
Boabdil, to avoid passing through the city. The descent
was so steep and broken, that I was obliged to dismount
and lead my horse.

Emerging from the ravine, and passing by the Puerto,
de los Molinos (the gate of the mills), I issued forth upon
the public promenade called the Prado, and, pursuing the
course of the Xenil, arrived 'at a small Moorish mosque,
now converted into the chapel or hermitage of San Sebas-
tian. A tablet on the wall relates that on this spot Boabdil
surrendered the keys of Granada to the Castilian sovereigns.
From thence I rode slowly across the Vega to a village
where the family and household of the unhappy king awaited
him ; for he had sent them forward on the preceding night
from the Alhambra, that his mother and wife might not
participate in his personal humiliation, or be exposed to the
gaze of the conquerors. Following on in the route of the
melancholy band of royal exiles, I arrived at the foot of
a chain of barren and dreary heights, forming the skirt of
the Alpuxarra mountains. From the summit of one of
these the unfortunate Boabdil took his last look at Granada :
it bears a name expressive of his sorrows, La Cuesta de las
Lagrimas (the hill of tears). Beyond it, a sandy road
winds across a rugged cheerless waste, doubly dismal to the
unhappy monarch, as it led to exile.

I spurred my horse to the summit of a rock, where
Boabdil uttered his last sorrowful exclamation, as he turned
his eyes from taking their farewell gaze : it is still deno-
minated el ultimo suspiro del Moro (the last sigh of the
Moor). Who can wonder at his anguish at being expelled
from such a kingdom and such an abode? With the
Alhambra he seemed to be yielding up all the honours of
his line, and all the glories and delights of life.

It was here, too, that his affliction was embittered by
the reproach of his mother Ayxa, who had so often assisted
him in times of peril, and had vainly sought to instil into

THE BALCONY.

61

him her own resolute spirit. <f You do well," said she,
" to weep as a woman over what you could not defend as a
man," — a speech that savours more of the pride of the
princess than the tenderness of the mother.

When this anecdote was related to Charles V. by Bishop
Guevara, the emperor joined in the expression of scorn at
the weakness of the wavering Boabdil. " Had I been he,
or he been I," said the haughty potentate, " I would
rather have made this Alhambra my sepulchre than have
lived without a kingdom in the Alpuxarra."

How easy it is for those in power and prosperity to
preach heroism to the vanquished ! how little can they
understand that life itself may rise in value with the un-
fortunate, when nought but life remains !

THE BALCONY.

IN the Hall of Ambassadors, at the central window there is
a balcony, of which I have already made mention : it pro-
jects like a cage from the face of the tower, high in mid-
air above the tops of the trees that grow on the steep hill-
side. It serves me as a kind of observatory, where I often
take my seat to consider not merely the heaven above, but
the earth beneath. Besides the magnificent prospect which
it commands of mountain, valley, and vega, there is a busy
little scene of human life laid open to inspection imme-
diately below. At the foot of the hill is an alameda, or
public walk, which, though not so fashionable as the more
modern and splendid paseo of the Xenil, still boasts a va-
ried and picturesque concourse. Hither resort the small
gentry of the suburbs, together with priests and friars,
who walk for appetite and digestion, majos and majas, the
beaux and belles of the lower classes, in their Andalusian
dresses, swaggering contrabandistas, and sometimes half-
muffled and mysterious loungers of the higher ranks, on
some secret assignation.

02 THE ALHAMBRA.

It is a moving picture of Spanish life and character,
which I delight to study ; and, as the naturalist has his
microscope to aid him in his investigations, so I have a
small pocket telescope which brings the countenances of the
motley groups so close as almost, at times, to make me
think I can divine their conversation by the play and ex-
pression of their features. I am thus, in a manner, an in-
visible observer, and, without quitting my solitude, can
throw myself in an instant into the midst of society, — a
rare advantage to one of somewhat shy and quiet habits,
and who, like myself, is fond of observing the drama of
life without becoming an actor in the scene.

There is a considerable suburb lying below the Alham-
bra, filling the narrow gorge of the valley, and extending
up the opposite hill of the Albaycin. Many of the houses
are built in the Moorish style, round patios, or courts,
cooled by fountains, and open to the sky ; and as the in-
habitants pass much of their time in these courts, and on
the terraced roofs, during the summer season, it follows
that many a glance at their domestic life may be obtained
by an aerial spectator like myself, who can look down on
them from the clouds.

I enjoy, in some degree, the advantages of the student
in the famous old Spanish story, who beheld all Madrid
unroofed for his inspection ; and my gossiping Squire
Mateo Ximenes officiates occasionally as my Asmodeus, to
give me anecdotes of the different mansions and their in-
habitants.

I prefer, however, to form conjectural histories for
myself, and thus can sit for hours weaving from casual
incidents and indications that pass under my eye, the
whole tissue of schemes, intrigues, and occupations of the
busy mortals below. There is scarce a pretty face, or a
striking figure, that I daily see, about which 1 have not thus
gradually framed a dramatic story, though some of my
characters will occasionally act in direct opposition to the
part assigned them, and disconcert my whole drama. A
few days since, as I was reconnoitring with my glass the
streets of the Albaycin, I beheld the procession of a novice
about to take the veil ; and remarked several circumstances

THE BALCONY. 03

that excited the strongest sympathy in the fate of the
youthful being thus about to be consigned to a living tomb.
I ascertained to my satisfaction that she was beautiful;
and, by the paleness of her cheek, that she was a victim,
rather than a votary. She was arrayed in bridal garments,
and decked with a chaplet of white flowers, but her heart
evidently revolted at this mockery of a spiritual union, and
yearned after its earthly loves. A tall stern-looking man
•walked near her in the procession ; it was of course the
tyrannical father, who, from some bigoted or sordid mo-
tive, had compelled this sacrifice. Amidst the crowd was
a dark handsome youth, in Andalusian garb, who seemed
to fix on her an eye of agony. It was, doubtless, the se-
cret lover from whom she was for ever to be separated.
My indignation rose as I noted the malignant expression
painted on the countenances of the attendant monks and
friars. The procession arrived at the chapel of the con-
vent ; the sun gleamed for the last time upon the chaplet
of the poor novice, as she crossed the fatal threshold, and
disappeared within the building. The throng poured in
with cowl, and cross, and minstrelsy ; the lover paused
for a moment at the door. I could divine the tumult of
his feelings ; but he mastered them, and entered. There
was a long interval — I pictured to myself the scene pass-
ing within ; the poor novice despoiled of her transient
finery, and clothed in the conventual garb, the bridal
chaplet taken from her brow; and her beautiful head
shorn of its long silken tresses : I heard her murmur the
irrevocable vow. I saw her extended on her bier; the
death-pall was spread over her, and the funeral service
that proclaimed her dead to the world performed ; her
sighs were drowned in the deep tones of the organ, and
the plaintive requiem of the nuns ; the father looked on,
unmoved, without a tear. The lover — no — my imagin-
ation refused to portray the anguish of the lover — there
the picture remained a blank.

After a time the throng again poured forth, and dis-
persed various ways, to enjoy the light of the sun, and
mingle with the stirring scenes of life; but the victim,
with her bridal chaplet, was no longer there. The door

64 THE ALHAMBRA.

of the convent closed that severed her from the world for
ever.

I saw the father and the lover issue forth ; they were
in earnest conversation. The latter was vehement in his
gesticulations ; I expected some violent termination to my
drama ; but an angle of a building interfered and closed
the scene. My eye has since frequently been turned to
that convent with painful interest. I remarked late at
night a solitary light twinkling from a remote lattice of
one of its towers. " There/' said I, " the unhappy nun
sits weeping in her cell, while, perhaps, her lover paces the
street below in unavailing anguish."

The officious Mateo interrupted my meditations, and
destroyed in an instant the cobweb tissue of my fancy.
With his usual zeal he had gathered facts concerning the
scene, that put my fictions all to flight. The heroine of
my romance was neither young nor handsome ; she had no
lover • she had entered the convent of her own free will,
as a respectable asylum, and was one of the most cheerful
residents within its walls.

It was some little while before I could forgive the
wrong done me by the nun in being thus happy in her
cell, in contradiction to all the rules of romance : I diverted
my spleen, however, by watching, for a day or two, the
pretty coquetries of a dark-eyed brunette, who, from the
covert of a balcony shrouded with flowering shrubs and
a silken awning, was carrying on a mysterious correspond-
ence with a handsome, dark, well- whiskered cavalier, who
was frequently in the street beneath her window. Some-
times I saw him at an early hour, stealing forth wrapped
to the eyes in a mantle. Sometimes he loitered at a corner,
in various disguises, apparently waiting for a private signal
to slip into the house. Then there was the tinkling of a
guitar at night, and a lantern shifted from place to place
in the balcony. I imagined another intrigue like that of
Almaviva, but was again disconcerted in all my supposi-
tions, by being informed that the supposed lover was the
husband of the lady, and a noted contrabandista ; and that
all his mysterious signs and movements had doubtless some
smuggling scheme in view.

THE BALCONY. O5

I occasionally amuse myself with noting from this bal-
cony the gradual changes that come over the scenes below,
according to the different stages of the day.

Scarce has the grey dawn streaked the sky, and the
earliest cock crowed from the cottages of the hill-side,
when the suburbs give sign of reviving animation ; for the
fresh hours of dawning are precious in the summer season
in a sultry climate. All are anxious to get the start of the
sun, in the business of the day. The muleteer drives
forth his loaded train for the journey ; the traveller slings
his carbine behind his saddle, and mounts his steed at the
gate of the hostel ; the brown peasant urges his loitering
beasts, laden with panniers of sunny fruit and fresh dewy
vegetables ; for already the thrifty housewives are hasten-
ing to the market.

The sun is up and sparkles along the valley, tipping the
transparent foliage of the groves. The matin bells resound
melodiously through the pure bright air, announcing the
hour of devotion. The muleteer halts his burthened ani-
mals before the chapel, thrusts his staff through his belt
behind, and enters with hat in hand, smoothing his coal-
black hair, to hear a mass, and put lip a prayer for a pro-
sperous wayfaring across the sierra. And now steals forth
on fairy foot the gentle senora, in trim basquina, with
restless fan in hand, and dark eye flashing from beneath
the gracefully folded mantilla : she seeks some well-fre-
quented church to offer up her morning orisons ; but the
nicely adjusted dress, the dainty shoe, and cobweb stocking,
the raven tresses, exquisitely braided, the fresh plucked
rose, that gleams among them like a gem, show that earth
divides with heaven the empire of her thoughts. Keep
an eye upon her, careful mother, or virgin aunt, or vigilant
duenna, whichever you be, that walk behind.

As the morning advances, the din of labour augments
on every side ; the streets are thronged with man, and steed,
and beast of burthen, and there is a hum and murmur,
like the surges of the ocean. As the sun ascends to his
meridian the hum and bustle gradually decline; at the
height of noon there is a pause. The panting city sinks
into lassitude, and for several hours there is a general re-

66 THE ALHAMBRA.

pose. The windows are closed, the curtains drawn, the in-
habitants retired into the coolest recesses of their mansions ;
the full-fed monk snores in his dormitory; the brawny
porter lies stretched on the pavement beside his burthen ;
the peasant and the labourer sleep beneath the trees of the
Alameda, lulled by the sultry chirping of the locust. The
streets are deserted, except by the water-carrier,, who re-
freshes the ear by proclaiming the merits of his sparkling
beverage, " colder than the mountain snow."

As the sun declines, there is again a gradual reviving,
and when the vesper bell rings out his sinking knell, all
nature seems to rejoice that the tyrant of the day has fallen.
Now begins the bustle of enjoyment, when the citizens
pour forth to breathe the evening air, and revel away the
brief twilight in the walks and gardens of the Darro and
the Xenil.

As night closes, the capricious scene assumes new fea-
tures. Light after light gradually twinkles forth : here a
taper from a balconied window ; there a votive lamp before
the image of a saint. Thus, by degrees, the city emerges
from the pervading gloom, and sparkles with scattered
lights, like the starry firmament. Now break forth from
court and garden, and street and lane, the tinkling of in-
numerable guitars, and the clicking of castanets ; blending,
at this lofty height, in a faint but general concert. " En-
joy the moment," is the creed of the gay and amorous An-
dalusian ; and at no time does he practise it more zealously
than in the balmy nights of summer, wooing his mistress
with the dance, the love ditty, and the passionate serenade.

I was one evening seated in the balcony, enjoying the
light breeze that came rustling along the side of the hill,
among the tree tops, when my humble historiographer
Mateo, who was at my elbow, pointed out a spacious house,
in an obscure street of the Albaycin, about which he re-
lated, as nearly as I can recollect, the following anecdote.

THE ADVENTURE OF THE MASON.

IC THERE was once upon a time a poor mason, or brick-
layer, in Granada, who kept all the saints' days and holy-
days, and Saint Monday into the bargain, and yet, with all
his devotion, he grew poorer and poorer, and could scarcely
earn bread for his numerous family. One night he was
roused from his first sleep by a knocking at his door. He
opened it, and beheld before him a tall, meagre, cadaverous-
looking priest.

" ' Hark ye, honest friend ! ' said the stranger ; ' I have
observed that you are a good Christian, and one to be
trusted ; will you undertake a job this very night ? '

" ' With all my heart, Senor Padre, on condition that I
am paid accordingly.'

" ' That you shall be ; but you must suffer yourself to
be blindfolded.'

" To this the mason made no objection ; so being hood-
winked, he was led by the priest through various rough
lanes and winding passages, until they stopped before the
portal of a house. The priest then applied a key, turned
a creaking lock, and opened what sounded like a ponderous
door. They entered, the door was closed and bolted, and
the mason was conducted through an echoing corridor, and
a spacious hall, to an interior part of the building. Here
the bandage was removed from his eyes, and he found him-
self in a patio, or court, dimly lighted by a single lamp.
In the centre was the dry basin of an old Moorish fountain,
under which the priest requested him to form a small
vault, bricks and mortar being at hand for the purpose.
He accordingly worked all night, but without finishing the
job. Just before day-break, the priest put a piece of gold
into his hand, and having again blindfolded him, con-
ducted him back to his dwelling.

" ' Are you willing/ said he, ' to return and complete
your work ? '

" e Gladly, Senor Padre, provided I am so well paid.'
F 2

68 THE ALHAMBRA.

<l ' Well, then, to-morrow at midnight I will call again.'

" He did so, and the vault was completed.

" ' Now/ said the priest, ' you must help me to bring
forth the bodies that are to be buried in this vault.'

" The poor mason's hair rose on his head at these
words : he followed the priest, with trembling steps, into
a retired chamber of the mansion, expecting to behold
some ghastly spectacle of death, but was relieved on per-
ceiving three or four portly jars standing in one corner.
They were evidently full of money, and it was with great
labour that he and the priest carried them forth and con-
signed them to their tomb. The vault was then closed,
the pavement replaced, and all traces of the work ob-
literated. The mason was again hoodwinked, and led forth
by a route different from that by which he had come.
After they had wandered for a long time through a per-
plexed maze of lanes and alleys, they halted. The priest
then put two pieces of gold into his hand : * Wait here,'
said he, ' until you hear the cathedral bell toll for matins.
If you presume to uncover your eyes before that time, evil
will bef'al you : ' so saying, he departed. The mason
waited faithfully, amusing himself by weighing the gold
pieces in his hand, and clinking them against each other.
The moment the cathedral bell rang its matin peal, he un-
covered his eyes, and found himself on the banks of the
Xenil, from whence he made the best of his way home,
and revelled with his family for a whole fortnight on the
profits of his two nights' work ; after which he was as
poor as ever.

He continued to work a little, and pray a good deal, and
keep saints'-days and holydays, from year to year, while
his family grew up as gaunt and ragged as a crew of gyp-
sies. As he was seated one evening at the door of his
hovel, he was accosted by a rich old curmudgeon, who was
noted for owning many houses, and being a griping land-
lord. The man of money eyed him for a moment from
beneath a pair of anxious shagged eyebrows.

" ' I am told, friend, that you are very poor.'

" ' There is no denying the fact, Sefior — it speaks for
itself.'

THE ADVENTURE OF THE MASON. 69

" l I presume then, that you will be glad of a job, and
will work cheap.'

" ' As cheap, my master, as any mason in Granada.'

" f That 's what I want. I have an old house fallen into
decay, that costs me more money than it is worth to keep
it in repair, for nobody will live in it ; so I must contrive
to patch it up and keep it together at as small expense as
possible.'

" The mason was accordingly conducted to a large de-
serted house, that seemed going to ruin. Passing through
several empty halls and chambers, he entered an inner
court, where his eye was caught by an old Moorish fountain.
He paused for a moment, for a dreaming recollection of
the place came over him.

" ' Pray/ said he, ' who occupied this house formerly ? '

' ( ' A pest upon him ! ' cried the landlord, ' it was an
old miserly priest, who cared for nobody but himself. He
was said to be immensely rich, and, having no relations, it
was thought he would leave all his treasures to the church.
He died suddenly, and the priests and friars thronged to
take possession of his wealth ; but nothing could they find
but a few ducats in a leathern purse. The worst luck
has fallen on me, for, since his death, the old fellow con-
tinues to occupy my house without paying rent, and there's
no taking the law of a dead man. The people pretend to
hear the clinking of gold all night in the chamber where
the old priest slept, as if he were counting over his money,
and sometimes a groaning and moaning about the court.
Whether true or false, these stories have brought a bad
name on my house, and not a tenant will remain in it.'

tf ' Enough,' said the mason sturdily : ' let me live in
your house rent-free until some better tenant present, and
I will engage to put it in repair, and to quiet the troubled
spirit that. disturbs it. I am a good Christian and a poor man,
and am not to be daunted by the devil himself, even though
he should come in the shape of a big bag of money ! '

" The offer of the honest mason was gladly accepted ;

he moved with his family into the house, and fulfilled all

his engagements. By little and little he restored it to its

former state ; the clinking of gold was no more heard at

F 3

70 THE ALHAMBRA.

night in the chamber of the defunct priest,, but began to be
heard by day in the pocket of the living mason. In a
word, he increased rapidly in wealth, to the admiration of
all his neighbours, and became one of the richest men in
Granada : he gave large sums to the church, by way, no
doubt, of satisfying his conscience, and never revealed the se-
cret of the vault until on his death-bed to his son and heir."

A RAMBLE AMONG THE HILLS.

I FREQUENTLY amuse myself towards the close of the
day, when the heat has subsided, with taking long rambles
about the neighbouring hills and the deep umbrageous
valleys, accompanied by my historiographic Squire Mateo,
to whose passion for gossiping I on such occasions give the
most unbounded licence ; and there is scarce a rock, or
ruin, or broken fountain, or lonely glen, about which he
has not some marvellous story ; or, above all, some golden
legend ; for never was poor devil so munificent in dispensing
hidden treasures.

A few evenings since, we took a long stroll of the kind,
in the course of which Mateo was more than usually com-
municative. It was towards sunset that we sallied forth
from the Great Gate of Justice, and ascending an alley of
trees, Mateo paused under a clump of fig and pomegranate
trees, at the foot of a huge ruined tower, called the Tower
of the Seven Floors (de los Siete Suelos). Here, pointing
to a low archway in the foundation of the tower, he in-
formed me of a monstrous sprite, or hobgoblin, said to
infest this tower ever since the time of the Moors, and to
guard the treasures of a Moslem king. Sometimes it issues
forth in the dead of the night, and scours the avenues of
the Alhambra, and the streets of Granada, in the shape of
a headless horse, pursued by six dogs with terrible yells
and howlings.

A RAMBLE AMONG THE HILLS. /I

(C But have you ever met with it yourself, Mateo, in any
of your rambles ? " demanded I.

" No, Senor, God be thanked! but my grandfather, the
tailor, knew several persons that had seen it, for it went
about much oftener in his time than at present; sometimes
in one shape, sometimes in another. Everybody in Granada
has heard of the Belludo, for the old women and the nurses
frighten the children with it when they cry. Some say
it is the spirit of a cruel Moorish king, who killed his six
sons and buried them in these vaults, and that they hunt
him at nights in revenge."

I forbear to dwell upon the marvellous details given by the
simple-minded Mateo about this redoubtable phantom, which
has, in fact, been time out of mind a favourite theme of nur-
sery tales and popular tradition in Granada, and of which
honourable mention is made by an ancient and learned his-
torian and topographer of the place. I would only observe,
that through this tower was the gateway by which the un-
fortunate Boabdil issued forth to surrender his capital.

Leaving this eventful pile, we continued our course,
skirting the fruitful orchards of the Generalife, in which
two or three nightingales were pouring forth a rich strain
of melody. Behind these orchards we passed a number of
Moorish tanks, with a door cut into the rocky bosom of the
hill, but closed up. These tanks, Mateo informed me,
were favourite bathing- places of himself and his comrades
in boyhood, until frightened away by a story of a hideous
Moor, who used to issue forth from the door in the rock to
entrap unwary bathers.

Leaving these haunted tanks behind us, we pursued our
ramble up a solitary mule-path that wound among the hills,
and soon found ourselves amidst wild and melancholy
mountains, destitute of trees, and here and there tinted
with scanty verdure. Every thing within sight was se-
vere and sterile, and it was scarcely possible to realise the
idea that but a short distance behind us was the Generalife,
with its blooming orchards and terraced gardens, and that
we were in the vicinity of delicious Granada, that city of
groves and fountains. But such is the nature of Spain —
p 4

72 THE ALHAMBRA.

wild and stern the moment it escapes from cultivation; the
desert and the garden are ever side by side.

The narrow defile up which we were passing is called,
according to Mateo, el Barranca de la tinaja, or, the ravine
of the jar, because a jar full of Moorish gold was found
here in old times. The brain of poor Mateo is continually
running upon these golden legentk-.

" But what is the meaning of the cross I see yonder
upon a heap of stones, in that narrow part of the ravine ? "

" Oh, that 's nothing — a muleteer was murdered there
some years since."

ff So then, Mateo, you have robbers and murderers even
at the gates of the Alhambra ? "

" Not at present, Senor ; that was formerly, when there
used to be many loose fellows about the fortress; but they've
all been weeded out. Not but that the gypsies who live in
caves in the hill-sides, just out of the fortress, are many
of them fit for anything ; but we have had no murder
about here for a long time past. The man who murdered
the muleteer was hanged in the fortress."

Our path continued up the barranco, with a bold, rugged
height to our left, called the " Silla del Moro," or, chair
of the Moor, from the tradition already alluded to, that the
unfortunate Boabdil fled thither during a popular insur-
rection, and remained all day seated on the rocky summit,
looking mournfully down on his factious city.

We at length arrived on the highest part of the pro-
montory above Granada, called the mountain of the sun.
The evening was approaching ; the setting sun just gilded
the loftiest heights. Here and there a solitary shepherd
might be descried driving his flock down the declivities, to
be folded for the night ; or a muleteer and his lagging
animals, threading some mountain path, to arrive at the
city gates before nightfall.

Presently the deep tones of the cathedral bell came
swelling up the defiles, proclaiming the hour of " oracion "
or prayer. The note was responded to from the belfry of
every church, and from the sweet bells of the convents
among the mountains. The shepherd paused on the fold
of the hilly the muleteer in the midst of the road ; each

A RAMBLE AMONG THE HILLS. 7 3

rtook off his hat and remained motionless for a time,
murmuring his evening prayer. There is always some-
thing pleasingly solemn in this custom, by which, at a
melodious signal, every human being throughout the land
unites at the same moment in a tribute of thanks to God
for the mercies of the day. It spreads a transient sanctity
over the land, and the sight of the sun, sinking in all his
glory, adds not a little to the solemnity of the scene.

In the present instance the effect was heightened by
the wild and lonely nature of the place. We were on the
naked and broken summit of the haunted mountain of the
sun, where ruined tanks and cisterns, and the mouldering
foundations of extensive buildings, spoke of former popu-
lousness, but where all was now silent and desolate.

As we were wandering among these traces of old times,
Mateo pointed out to me a circular pit, that seemed to pene-
trate deep into the bosom of the mountain. It was evi-
dently a deep well, dug by the indefatigable Moors, to
obtain their favourite element in its greatest purity.
Mateo, however, had a different story, and much more
to his humour. This was, according to tradition, an
entrance to the subterranean caverns of the mountain, in
which Boabdil and his court lay bound in. magic spell ;
d from whence they sallied forth at night, at allotted
mes, to revisit their ancient abodes.

The deepening twilight, which, in this climate, is of
such short duration, admonished us to leave this haunted
ground. As we descended the mountain denies, there was
no longer herdsman or muleteer to be seen, nor any thing
to be heard but our own footsteps and the lonely chirping
of the cricket. The shadows of the valleys grew deeper
and deeper, until all was dark around us. The lofty
summit of the Sierra Nevada alone retained a lingering
gleam of daylight ; its snowy peaks glaring against the
dark blue firmament, and seeming close to us from the ex-
treme purity of the atmosphere.

" How near the Sierra looks this evening!" said Mateo;
" it seems as if you could touch it with your hand ; and
yet it is many long leagues off." While he was speaking,
a star appeared over the snowy summit of the mountain,

74 THE ALHAHIBBA.

the only one yet visible in the heavens, and so pure, so
large, so bright and beautiful, as to call forth ejaculations of
delight from honest Mateo.

" Que estrella hermosa ! que clara y limpia es ! — No
pueda ser estrella mas brillante ! "

(What a beautiful star ! how clear and lucid — no star
could be more brilliant !)

I have often remarked this sensibility of the common
people of Spain to the charms of natural objects. The
lustre of a star, the beauty or fragrance of a flower, the
crystal purity of a fountain, will inspire them with a kind
of poetical delight ; and then, what euphonious words
their magnificent language affords, with which to give
utterance to their transports !

" But what lights are those, Mateo, which I see
twinkling along the Sierra Nevada, just below the snowy
region, and which might be taken for stars, only that
they are ruddy, and against the dark side of the moun-
tain ? "

" Those, Senor, are fires, made by the men who gather
snow and ice for the supply of Granada. They go up
every afternoon with mules and asses, and take turns,
some to rest, and warm themselves by the fires, while
others fill the panniers with ice. They then set off down
the mountain, so as to reach the gates of Granada before
sunrise. That Sierra Nevada, Senor, is a lump of ice in
the middle of Andalusia, to keep it all cool in summer."

It was now completely dark : we were passing through
the barranco, where stood the cross of the murdered mule-
teer ; when I beheld a number of lights moving at a dis-
tance, and apparently advancing up the ravine. On
nearer approach, they proved to be torches borne by a
train of uncouth figures arrayed in black : it would have
been a procession dreary enough at any time, but was
peculiarly so in this wild and solitary place.

Mateo drew near, and told me in a low voice, that it
was a funeral train bearing a corpse to the burying-ground
among the hills.

As the procession passed by, the lugubrious light of the
torches falling on the rugged features and funeral weeds

A RAMBLE AMONG THE HILLS. ?5

of the attendants, had the most fantastic effect, but was
perfectly ghastly, as it revealed the countenance of the
corpse, which, according to the Spanish custom, was borne
uncovered on an open bier. I remained for some time
gazing after the dreary train as it wound up the dark
defile of the mountain. It put me in mind of the old
story of a procession of demons bearing the body of a
sinner up the crater of Stromboli.

" Ah ! Senor," cried Mateo, <c I could tell you a story
of a procession once seen among these mountains, but then
you'd laugh at me, and say it was one of the legacies of
my grandfather the tailor."

" By no means, Mateo. There is nothing I relish more
than a marvellous tale."

" Well, Senor, it is about one of those very men we have
been talking of, who gather snow on the Sierra Nevada."

" You must know, that a great many years since, in my
grandfather's time, there was an old fellow, Tio Nicolo by
name, who had filled the panniers of his mule with snow
and ice, and was returning down the mountain. Being
very drowsy, he mounted upon the mule, and soon falling
asleep, went with his head nodding and bobbing about from
side to side, while his sure-footed old mule stepped along
the edge of precipices, and down steep and broken bar-
rancos, just as safe and steady as if it had been on plain
ground. At length, Tio Nicolo awoke, and gazed about
him, and rubbed bis eyes — and, in good truth, he had
reason. The moon shone almost as bright as day, and he
saw the city below him, as plain as your hand, and shining
with its white buildings, like a silver platter in the moon-
shine ; but, Lord ! Senor, it was nothing like the city he
had left a few hours before ! Instead of the cathedral,
with its great dome and turrets, and the churches with
their spires, and the convents with their pinnacles, all sur-
mounted with the blessed cross, he saw nothing but Moorish
mosques, and minarets, and cupolas, all topped off with
glittering crescents, such as you see on the Barbary flags.
Well, Senor, as you may suppose, Tio Nicolo was mightily
puzzled at all this, but while he was gazing down upon
the city, a great army came marching up the mountain,

76 THE ALHAMBRA.

winding along the ravines, sometimes in the moonshine,
sometimes in the shade. As it drew nigh, he saw that
there were horse and foot all in Moorish armour. Tio
Nicolo tried to scramble out of their way, but his old mule
stood stock still, and refused to budge, trembling, at the
same time, like a leaf — for dumb beasts, Senor, are just
as much frightened at such things as human beings. Well,
Senor, the hobgoblin army came marching by ; there were
men that seemed to blow trumpets, and others to beat
drums and strike cymbals, yet never a sound did they
make ; they all moved on without the least noise, just as
I have seen painted armies move across the stage in the
theatre of Granada, and all looked as pale as death. At
last, in the rear of the army, between two black Moorish
horsemen, rode the Grand Inquisitor of Granada, on a
mule as white as snow. Tio Nicolo wondered to see him
in such company, for the Inquisitor was famous for his
hatred of Moors, and, indeed, of all kinds of infidels,
Jews, and heretics, and u?ed to hunt them out with fire
and scourge. However, Tio Nicolo felt himself safe, now
that there was a priest of such sanctity at hand. So
making the sign of the cross, he called out for his bene-
diction, when,, hombre ! he received a blow that sent him
and his old mule over the edge of a steep bank, down
which they rolled, head over heels, to the bottom ! Tio
Nicolo did not come to his senses until long after sunrise,
when he found himself at the bottom of a deep ravine, his
mule grazing beside him, and his panniers of snow com-
pletely melted. He crawled back to Granada sorely bruised
and battered, but was glad to find the city looking as usual,
with Christian churches and crosses. When he told the
story of his night's adventure, every one laughed at him ;
some said he had dreamed it all, as he dozed on his mule ;
others thought it all a fabrication of his own — but what
was strange, Senor, and made people afterwards think
more seriously of the matter, was, that the Grand In-
quisitor died within the year. I have often heard my
grandfather, the tailor, say that there was more meant by
that hobgoblin army bearing off the resemblance of the
priest, than folks dared to surmise."

LOCAL TRADITIONS. 77

" Then you would insinuate, friend Mateo, that there
is a kind of Moorish limbo, or purgatory, in the bowels of
these mountains, to which the padre Inquisitor was borne
off."

" God forbid, Senor ! I know nothing of the matter
— I only relate what I heard from my grandfather."

By the time Mateo had finished the tale, which I have
more succinctly related, and which was interlarded with
many comments, and spun out with minute details, we
reached the gate of the Alhambra.

LOCAL TRADITIONS.

THE common people of Spain have an Oriental passion for
story-telling, and are fond of the marvellous. They will
gather round the doors of their cottages in summer evenings,
or in the great cavernous chimney corners of the ventas in
the winter, and listen with insatiable delight to miraculous
legends of saints, perilous adventures of travellers, and
daring exploits of robbers and contrabandistas. The wild
and solitary character of the country, the imperfect dif-
fusion of knowledge, the scarceness of general topics of
conversation, and the romantic adventurous life that every
one leads in a land where travelling is yet in its primitive
state, all contribute to cherish this love of oral narration,
and to produce a strong infusion of the extravagant and
incredible. There is no theme, however, more prevalent
and popular than that of treasures buried by the Moors ;
it pervades the whole country. In traversing the wild
sierras, the scenes of ancient foray and exploit, you cannot
see a Moorish atalaya, or watch-tower, perched among the
cliffs, or beetling above its rock-built village, but your
muleteer, on being closely questioned, will suspend the
smoking of his cigarillo to tell some tale of Moslem gold
buried beneath its foundations ; nor is there a ruined

78 THE ALHAMBRA.

alcazar in a city but has its golden tradition, handed down
from generation to generation among the poor people of the
neighbourhood.

These, like most popular fictions,, have sprung from
some scanty ground-work of fact. During the wars be-
tween Moor and Christian which distracted this country
for centuries, towns and castles were liable frequently and
suddenly to change owners, and the inhabitants, during
sieges and assaults, were fain to bury their money and
jewels in the earth, or hide them in vaults and wells, as is
often done at the present day in the despotic and belli-
gerent countries of the East. At the time of the expulsion
of the Moors also many of them concealed their most pre-
cious effects, hoping that their exile would be but tem-
porary, and that they would be enabled to return and
retrieve their treasures at some future day. It is certain
that from time to time hoards of gold and silver coin have
been accidentally dug up, after a lapse of centuries, from
among the ruins of Moorish fortresses and habitations ;
and it requires but a few facts of the kind to give birth to
a thousand fictions.

The stories thus originating have generally something
of an oriental tinge, and are marked with that mixture of
the Arabic and the Gothic which seems to me to charac-
terise every thing in Spain, and especially in its southern
provinces. The hidden wealth is always laid under magic
spell, and secured by charm and talisman. Sometimes it
is guarded by uncouth monsters or fiery dragons, sometimes
by enchanted Moors, who sit by it in armour, with drawn
swords, but motionless as statues, maintaining a sleepless
watch for ages.

The Alhambra, of course, from the peculiar circum-
stances of its history, is a stronghold for popular fictions
of the kind ; and various relics dug up from time to time,
have contributed to strengthen them. At one time an
earthen vessel was found containing Moorish coins and the
skeleton of a cock, which, according to the opinion of cer-
tain shrewd inspectors, must have been buried alive. At
another time a vessel was dug up containing a great scara-
baeus or beetle of baked clay, covered with Arabic inscrip-

THE HOUSE OF THE WEATHERCOCK. 79

tions, which was pronounced a prodigious amulet of occult
virtues. In this way the wits of the ragged brood who
inhabit the Alhambra have been set wool-gathering, until
there is not a hall, or tower, or vault, of the old fortress
that has not been made the scene of some marvellous tra-
dition. Having, I trust, in the preceding papers made
the reader in some degree familiar with the localities of the
Alhambra, I shall now launch out more largely into the
wonderful legends connected with it, and which I have
diligently wrought into shape and form, from various
legendary scraps and hints picked up in the course of my
perambulations ; in the same manner that an antiquary
works out a regular historical document from a few scat-
tered letters of an almost defaced inscription.

If any thing in these legends should shock the faith of
le over -scrupulous reader, he must remember the nature
of the place, and make due allowances. He must not ex-
pect here the same laws of probability that govern common-
place scenes and every-day life ; he must remember that
he treads the halls of an enchanted palace, and that all is
" haunted ground."

THE HOUSE OF THE WEATHERCOCK.

ON the brow of the lofty hill of the Albaycin, the
highest part of the city of Granada, stand the remains of
what was once a royal palace, founded shortly after the
conquest of Spain by the Arabs. It is now converted into
a manufactory, and has fallen into such obscurity, that it
cost me much trouble to find it, notwithstanding that I
had the assistance of the sagacious and all-knowing Mateo
Ximenes. This edifice still bears the name by which it
has been known for centuries, namely, " La Casa del
Gallo de Viento," i. e. The House of the Weathercock.
It was so called from a bronze figure of a warrior on
horseback, armed with shield and spear, erected on one of

80 THE ALHAMBRA.

its turrets, and turning with every wind ; bearing an
Arabic motto, which, translated into Spanish,, was as fol-
lows : —

" Dice el sabio Aben Habuz ;
Que asi se defiende el Andaluz.

" In this way, says Aben Habuz the wise,
The Andalusian his foe defies." .

This Aben Habuz, according to Moorish chronicles,
was a captain in the invading army of Taric, and was left
by him -as alcayde of Granada. He is supposed to have
intended this warlike effigy as a perpetual memorial to the
Moslem inhabitants that, surrounded as they were by foes,
their safety depended upon being always on their guard,
and ready for the field.

Traditions, however, give a different account of this
Aben Habuz and his palace, and affirm that his bronze
horseman was originally a talisman of great virtue, though,
in after-ages, it lost its magic properties, and degenerated
into a mere weathercock.

The following are the traditions alluded to.

LEGEND OF THE ARABIAN ASTROLOGER.

IN old times, many hundred years ago, there was a
Moorish king named Aben Habuz, who reigned over the
kingdom of Granada. He was a retired conqueror, that is
to say, one who having in his more youthful days led a
life of constant foray and depredation, now that he was
grown feeble and superannuated, " languished for repose,"
and desired nothing more than to live at peace with all the
world, to husband his laurels, and to enjoy in quiet the
possessions he had wrested from his neighbours.

It so happened, however, that this most reasonable and
pacific old monarch had young rivals to deal with ; princes
full of his early passion for fame and fighting, and who

LEGEND OF THE ARABIAN ASTROLOGER. 81

were disposed to call him to account for the scores he had
run up with their fathers. Certain distant districts of his
own territories, also, which during the days of his vigour
he had treated with a high hand, were prone, now that he
languished for repose, to rise in rebellion and threaten to
invest him in his capital. Thus he had foes on every
side, and as Granada is surrounded by wild and craggy
mountains, which hide the approach of an enemy, the un-
fortunate Aben Habuz was kept in a constant state of
vigilance and alarm, not knowing in what quarter hostili-
ties might break out.

It was in vain that he built watch-towers on the moun-
tains, and stationed guards at every pass, with orders to
make fires by night and smoke by day, on the approach of
an enemy. His alert foes, baffling every precaution,
would break out of some unthought-of defile, ravage his
lands beneath his very nose, and then make off with pri-
soners and booty to the mountains. Was ever peaceable
and retired conqueror in a more uncomfortable predica-
ment ?

While Aben Habuz was harassed by these perplexities
and molestations, an ancient Arabian physician arrived at
his court. His grey beard descended to his girdle, and he
had every mark of extreme age, yet he had travelled
almost the whole way from Egypt on foot, with no other
aid than a staff, marked with hieroglyphics. His fame
had preceded him. His name was Ibrahim Ebn Abu
Ajeeb ; he was said to have lived ever since the days of
Mahomet, and to be the son of Abu Ajeeb, the last of the
companions of the Prophet. He had, when a child, fol-
lowed the conquering army of Amru into Egypt, where he
had remained many years studying the dark sciences, and
particularly magic, among the Egyptian priests.

It was, moreover, said that he had found out the secret
of prolonging life, by means of which he had arrived to
the great age of upwards of two centuries, though, as he
did not discover the secret until well stricken in years, he
could only perpetuate his grey hairs and wrinkles.

This wonderful old man was honourably entertained by
the king ; who, like most superannuated monarchs, began
0

82 THE ALHAMBRA.

to take physicians into great favour. He would have
assigned him an apartment in his palace, but the astrologer
preferred a cave in the side of the hill which rises above
the city of Granada, being the same on which the Alhambra
has since been built. He caused the cave to be enlarged,
so as to form a spacious and lofty hall, with a circular
hole at the top, through which, as through a well, he
could see the heavens and behold the stars, even at mid-
day. The walls of this hall were covered with Egyptian
hieroglyphics, with cabalistic symbols, and with the figures
of the stars in their signs. This hall he furnished with
many implements, fabricated under his directions by cun-
ning artificers of Granada, but the occult properties of
which were known only to himself.

In a little while the sage Ibrahim became the bosom
counsellor of the king, who applied to him for advice in
every emergency. Aben Habuz was once inveighing
against the injustice of his neighbours, and bewailing the
restless vigilance he had to observe, to guard himself
against their invasions : when he had finished, the astro-
loger remained silent for a moment, and then replied,
tc Know, O king, that when I was in Egypt I beheld a
great marvel devised by a pagan priestess of old. On a
mountain, above the city of Borsa, and overlooking the
great valley of the Nile, was a figure of a ram, and above
it a figure of a cock, both of molten brass, and turning
upon a pivot. Whenever the country was threatened with
invasion, the ram would turn in the direction of the
enemy, and the cock would crow ; upon this the inhabit-
ants of the city knew of the danger, and of the quarter
from which it was approaching, and could take timely
means to guard against it."

"God is great!" exclaimed the pacific Aben Habuz,
" what a treasure would be such a ram to keep an eye upon
these mountains around me, and then such a cock, to crow
in time of danger ! Allah Akbar ! how securely I might
sleep in my palace with such sentinels on the top !"

The astrologer waited until the ecstasies of the king had
subsided, and then proceeded.

" After the victorious Amru (may he rest in peace !)

LEGEND OP THE ARABIAN ASTROLOGER. 83

had finished his conquest of Egypt, I remained among
the ancient priests of the land, studying the rites and ce-
remonies of their idolatrous faith, and seeking to make
myself master of the hidden knowledge for which they are
renowned. I was one day seated on the banks of the
Nile, conversing with an ancient priest, when he pointed
to the mighty pyramids which rose like mountains out of
the neighbouring desert. ' All that we can teach thee,'
said he, ' is nothing to the knowledge locked up in those
mighty piles. In the centre of the central pyramid is a
sepulchral chamber, in which is enclosed the mummy of
the high priest, who aided in rearing that stupendous pile ;
and with him is buried a wondrous book of knowledge,
containing all the secrets of magic and art. This book
was given to Adam after his fall, and was handed down
from generation to generation to King Solomon the wise,
and by its aid he built the temple of Jerusalem. How it
came into the possession of the builder of the pyramids, is
known to Him alone who knows all things.'

" When I heard these words of the Egyptian priest,
my heart burned to get possession of that book. I could
command the services of many of the soldiers of our con-
quering army, and of a number of the native Egyptians :
with these I set to work, and pierced the solid mass of the
pyramid, until, after great toil, I came upon one of its
interior and hidden passages. Following this up, and
threading a fearful labyrinth, I penetrated into the very
heart of the pyramid, even to the sepulchral chamber,
where the mummy of the high priest had lain for ages.
I broke through the outer cases of the mummy, unfolded
its many wrappers and bandages, and, at length, found the
precious volume on its bosom. I seized it with a trem-
bling hand, and groped my way out of the pyramid, leaving
the mummy in its dark and silent sepulchre, there to await
the final day of resurrection and judgment."

" Son of Abu Ajeeb," exclaimed Aben Habuz, " thou
hast been a great traveller, and seen marvellous things ;
' but of what avail to me is the secret of the pyramid, and
the volume of knowledge of the wise Solomon ? "
a 2

84 THE ALHAMBBA.

" This it is, O king ! by the study of that book I am
instructed in all magic arts, and can command the assist-
ance of genii to accomplish my plans. The mystery of
the talisman of Borsa is therefore familiar to me, and
such a talisman can I make ; nay, one of greater virtues."

" O wise son of Abu Ajeeb," cried Aben Habuz, " better
were such a talisman than all the watch-towers on the
hills, and sentinels upon the borders. Give me such a
safeguard, and the riches of my treasury are at thy com-
mand."

The astrologer immediately set to work to gratify the
wishes of the monarch. He caused a great tower to be
erected upon the top of the royal palace, which stood on
the brow of the hill of the Albaycin. The tower was built
of stones brought from Egypt, and taken, it is said, from
one of the pyramids. In the upper part of the tower was
a circular hall, with windows looking toward every point
of the compass, and before each window was a table, on
which was arranged, as on a chess-board, a mimic army of
horse and foot, with the effigy of the potentate that ruled
in that direction, all carved of wood. To each of these
tables there was a small lance, no bigger than a bodkin, on
which were engraved certain Chaldaic characters. This
hall was kept constantly closed, by a gate of brass, with a
great lock of steel, the key of which was in possession of
the king.

On the top of the tower was a bronze figure of a Moor-
ish horseman, fixed on a pivot, with a shield on one arm,
and his lance elevated perpendicularly. The fai e of this
horseman was towards the city, as if keeping guard over
it ; but if any foe were at hand, the figure would turn in
that direction, and would level the lance as if for action.

When this talisman was finished, Aben Habuz was all
impatient to try its virtues ; and longed as ardently for an
invasion, as he had ever sighed after repose. His desire
was soon gratified. Tidings were brought, early one morn-
ing, by the sentinel appointed to watch the tower, that the
face of the bronze horseman was turned towards the moun-
tains of Elvira, and that his lance pointed directly against
the pass of Lope.

LEGEND OF THE ARABIAN ASTROLOGER. 85

" Let the drums and trumpets sound to arms, and all
Granada be put on the alert," said Aben Habuz.

<f O king," said the astrologer, " let not your city be
disquieted, nor your warriors called to arms ; we need no
aid of force to deliver you from your enemies. Dismiss
your attendants, and let us proceed alone to the secret hall
of the tower."

The ancient Aben Habuz mounted the staircase of the
tower, leaning on the arm of the still more ancient Ibrahim
Ebn Abu Ajeeb. They unlocked the brazen door, and
entered. The window that looked towards the pass of
Lope was open. " In this direction," said the astrologer,
" lies the danger ; approach, O king, and behold the
mystery of the table."

King Aben Habuz approached the seeming chess-board,
on which were arranged the small wooden effigies, when,
to his surprise, he perceived that they were all in motion.
The horses pranced and curveted, the warriors brandished
their weapons, and there was a faint sound of drums and
trumpets, and the clang of arms, and neighing of steeds ;
but all no louder, nor more distinct, than the hum of the
bee, or the summer-fly, in the drowsy ear of him who lies
at noontide in the shade.

" Behold, O king," said the astrologer, " a proof that
thy enemies are even now in the field. They must be
advancing through yonder mountains, by the passes of
Lope. Would you produce a panic and confusion amongst
them, and cause them to retreat without loss of life, strike
these effigies with the butt-end of this magic lance ; but
would you cause bloody feud and carnage among them,
strike with the point."

A livid streak passed across the countenance of the pa-
cific Aben Habuz ; he seized the mimic lance with trem-
bling eagerness, and tottered towards the table : his grey
beard wagged with chuckling exultation : " Son of Abu
Ajeeb," exclaimed he, " I think we will have a little
blood !"

So saying, he thrust the magic lance into some of the
pigmy effigies, and belaboured others with the butt-end,
upon which the former fell as dead upon the board and
6 3

86 THE ALHAMBRA.

the rest turning upon each other began, pell-mell, a chance-
medley fight.

It was with difficulty the astrologer could stay the hand
of the most pacific of monarchs, and prevent him from
absolutely exterminating his foes ; at length he prevailed
upon him to leave the tower, and to send out scouts to the
mountains by the pass of Lope.

They returned with the intelligence, that a Christian
army had advanced through the heart of the sierra, almost
within sight of Granada, where a dissension had broken
out among them ; they had turned their weapons against
each other, and after much slaughter, had retreated over
the border.

Aben Habuz was transported with joy on thus proving
the efficacy of the talisman. " At length," said he, " I
shall lead a life of tranquillity, and have all my enemies in
my power. O wise son of Abu Ajeeb, what can I bestow
on thee in reward for such a blessing ?"

" The wants of an old man and a philosopher, O king,
are few and simple ; grant me but the means of fitting up
my cave as a suitable hermitage, and I am content."

" How noble is the moderation of the truly wise !" ex-
claimed Aben Habuz, secretly pleased at the cheapness of
the recompense. He summoned his treasurer, and bade
him dispense whatever sums might be required by Ibrahim
to complete and furnish his hermitage.

The astrologer now gave orders to have various cham-
bers hewn out of the solid rock, so as to form ranges of
apartments connected with his astrological hall ; these he
caused to be furnished with luxurious ottomans and divans,
and the walls to be hung with the richest silks of Damas-
cus. " I am an old man," said he, " and can no longer
rest my bones on stone couches ; and these damp walls
require covering."

He had baths, too, constructed, and provided with all
kinds of perfumes and aromatic oils. " For a bath," said
he, " is necessary to counteract the rigidity of age, and to
restore freshness and suppleness to the frame withered by
study."

He caused the apartments to be hung with innumerable

LEGEND OF THE ARABIAN ASTROLOGER. 87

silver and crystal lamps, which he filled with a fragrant
oil, prepared according to a receipt discovered by him in
the tombs of Egypt. This oil was perpetual in its nature,
and diffused a soft radiance like the tempered light of day.
" The light of the sun," said he, " is too garish and
violent for the eyes of an old man, and the light of the
lamp is more congenial to the studies of a philosopher."

The treasurer of king Aben Habuz groaned at the sums
daily demanded to fit up this hermitage, and he carried
his complaints to the King. The royal word, however,
was given ; Aben Habuz shrugged his shoulders : " We
must have patience," said he; " this old man has taken his
idea of a philosophic retreat from the interior of the pyra-
mids, and of the vast ruins of Egypt ; but all things have
an end, and so will the furnishing of his cavern."

The king was in the right ; the hermitage was at length
complete, and formed a sumptuous subterranean palace.
" I am now content," said Ibrahim Ebn Abu Ajeeb to the
treasurer ; (e I will shut myself up in my cell, and devote
my time to study. I desire nothing more, nothing, except
a trifling solace, to amuse me at the intervals of mental
labour."

" O wise Ibrahim, ask what thou wilt ; I am bound to
furnish all that is necessary for thy solitude."

" I would fain have, then, a few dancing women," said
the philosopher.

" Dancing women ! " echoed the treasurer with sur-
prise.

" Dancing women," replied the sage gravely ; ' ' a few
will suffice, for I am an old man, and a philosopher, of
simple habits, and easily satisfied. Let them, however,
be young, and fair to look upon ; for the sight of youth
and beauty is refreshing to old age."

While the philosophic Ibrahim Ebn Abu Ajeeb passed
his time thus sagely in his hermitage, the pacific Aben
Habuz carried on furious campaigns in effigy in his tower.
It was a glorious thing for an old man, like himself, of
quiet habits, to have war made easy, and to be enabled to
amuse himself in his chamber by brushing away whole
armies like so many swarms of flies.
G 4

88 THE ALHAMBRA.

For a time he rioted in the indulgence of his humours,
and even taunted and insulted his neighbours, to induce
them to make incursions ; but by degrees they grew wary
from repeated disasters, until no one ventured to invade his
territories. For many months the bronze horseman re-
mained on the peace establishment, with his lance elevated
in the air, and the worthy old monarch began to repine at
the want of his accustomed sport, and to grow peevish at
his monotonous tranquillity.

At length, one day, the talismanic horseman veered
suddenly round, and lowering his lance, made a dead
point towards the mountains of Guadix. Aben Habuz
hastened to his tower, but the magic table in that direction
remained quiet; not a single warrior was in motion. Per-
plexed at the circumstance, he sent forth a troop of horse
to scour the mountains and reconnoitre. They returned
after three days' absence.

" We have searched every mountain pass," said they,
' c but not a helm or spear was stirring. All that we have
found in the course of our foray, was a Christian damsel
of surpassing beauty, sleeping at noon-tide beside a foun-
tain, whom we have brought away captive."

<c A damsel of surpassing beauty ! " exclaimed Aben
Habuz, his eyes gleaming with animation : " let her be
conducted into my presence."

The beautiful damsel was accordingly conducted into
his presence. She was arrayed with all the luxury of
ornament that had prevailed among the Gothic Spaniards
at the time of the Arabian conquest. Pearls of dazzling
whiteness were entwined with her raven tresses ; and
jewels sparkled on her forehead, rivalling the lustre of her
eyes. Around her neck was a golden chain, to which was
suspended a silver lyre, which hung by her side.

The flashes of her dark refulgent eye were like sparks
of fire on the withered, yet combustible, heart of Aben
Habuz ; the swimming voluptuousness of her gait made
his senses reel. c( Fairest of women," cried he, with
rapture, ' ( who and what art thou ? "

" The daughter of one of the Gothic princes, who but
lately ruled over this land. The armies of my father have

LEGEND OP THE ARABIAN ASTROLOGER. 8.9

been destroyed, as if by magic, among these mountains;
he has been driven into exile, and his daughter is a
captive."

" Beware, O king ! " whispered Ibrahim Ebn Abu
Ajeeb, " this may be one of those northern sorceresses of
whom we have heard, who assume the most seductive
forms to beguile the unwary. Methinks I read witch-
craft in her eye, and sorcery in every movement. Doubt-
less this is the enemy pointed out by the talisman."

" Son of Abu Ajeeb," replied the king, " thou art a
wise man, I grant, a conjuror for aught I know ; but
thou art little versed in the ways of woman. In that
knowledge will I yield to no man ; no, not to the wise
Solomon himself, notwithstanding the number of his
wives and concubines. As to this damsel, I see no harm
in her ; she is fair to look upon, and finds favour in my
eyes."

" Hearken, O king ! " replied the astrologer. " I have
given thee many victories by means of my talisman, but
have never shared any of the spoil. Give me then this
stray captive, to solace me in my solitude with her silver
lyre. If she be indeed a sorceress, I have counter- spells
that set her charms at defiance."

" What ! more women ! " cried A ben Habuz. " Hast
thou not already dancing women enough to solace thee ? "

" Dancing women have I, it is true, but no singing
women. I would fain have a little minstrelsy to refresh
my mind when weary with the toils of study."

fc A truce with thy hermit cravings," said the king, im-
patiently. '« This damsel have I marked for my own. I
see much comfort in her ; even such comfort as David, the
father of Solomon the wise, found in the society of Abishag
the Shunamite."

Further solicitations and remonstrances of the astrologer
only provoked a more peremptory reply from the monarch,
and they parted in high displeasure. The sage shut him-
self up in his hermitage to brood over his disappointment;
ere he departed, however, he gave the king one more
warning to beware of his dangerous captive. But where is
the old man in love that will listen to counsel? Aben

90 THE ALHAMBRA.

Habuz resigned himself to the full sway of his passion.
His only study was how to render himself amiable in the
eyes of the Gothic beauty. He had not youth to recom-
mend him., it is true, but then he had riches ; and when a
lover is old, he is generally generous. The Zacatin of
Granada was ransacked for the most precious merchandise
of the East : silks, jewels, precious gems, exquisite per-
fumes, all that Asia and Africa yielded of rich and rare,
were lavished upon the princess. All kinds of spectacles
and festivities were devised for her entertainment ; min-
strelsy, dancing, tournaments, bull-fights : Granada, for a
time, was a scene of perpetual pageant. The Gothic princess
regarded all this splendour with the air of one accustomed
to magnificence. She received every thing as a homage
due to her rank, or rather to her beauty, for beauty is more
lofty in its exactions even than rank. Nay, she seemed to
take a secret pleasure in exciting the monarch to expenses
that made his treasury shrink ; and then treating his ex-
travagant generosity as a mere matter of course. With all
his assiduity and munificence, also, the venerable lover
could not flatter himself that he had made any impression
on her heart. She never frowned on him, it is true, but
then she never smiled. Whenever he began to plead his
passion, she struck her silver lyre. There was a mystic
charm in the sound. In an instant the monarch began to
nod ; a drowsiness stole over him, and he gradually sank
into a sleep, from which he awoke wonderfully refreshed,
but perfectly cooled for the time of his passion. This was
very baffling to his suit ; but then these slumbers were ac-
companied by agreeable dreams, that completely enthralled
the senses of the drowsy lover ; so he continued to dream
on, while all Granada scoffed at his infatuation, and groaned
at the treasures lavished for a song.

At length a danger burst on the head of Aben Habuz,
against which his talisman yielded him no warning. An
insurrection broke out in his very capital : his palace was
surrounded by an armed rabble, who menaced his life and
the life of his Christian paramour. A spark of his ancient
warlike spirit was awakened in the breast of the monarch.
At the head of a handful of his guards he sallied forth,

LEGEND OF THE ARABIAN ASTROLOGER. 91

put the rebels to flight, and crushed the insurrection in
the bud.

When quiet was again restored, he sought the astrologer,
who still remained shut up in his hermitage, chewing the
bitter cud of resentment.

Aben Habuz approached him with a conciliatory tone.
" O wise son Abu Ajeeb," said he, <f well didst thou pre-
dict dangers to me from this captive beauty : tell me then,
thou who art so quick at foreseeing peril, what I should do
to avert it."

" Put from thee the infidel damsel who is the cause."
" Sooner would I part with my kingdom," cried Aben
Habuz.

" Thou art in danger of losing both," replied the astro-
loger.

" Be not harsh and angry, O most profound of philo-
sophers ; consider the double distress of a monarch and a
lover, and devise some means of protecting me from the
evils by which I am menaced. I care not for grandeur, I
care not for power, I languish only for repose ; would that
I had some quiet retreat, where I might take refuge from
the world, and all its cares, and pomps, and troubles, and
devote the remainder of my days to tranquillity and love."
The astrologer regarded him for a moment, from under
his bushy eyebrows.

" And what wouldst thou give, if I could provide thee
such a retreat?"

" Thou shouldst name thy own reward, and whatever it
might be, if within the scope of my power, as my soul
liveth, it should be thine."

" Thou hast heard, O king, of the garden of Irem, one
of the prodigies of Arabia the happy."

"I have heard of that garden ; it is recorded in the Koran,
even in the chapter entitled ' The Dawn of Day.' I have,
moreover, heard marvellous things related of it by pilgrims
who had been to Mecca; but I considered them wild fables,
such as travellers are wont to tell who have visited remote
countries."

" Discredit not, O king, the tales of travellers," rejoined
the astrologer gravely, " for they contain precious rarities

92 THE ALHAMBRA.

of knowledge brought from the ends of the earth. As to
the palace and garden of Irem, what is generally told of
them is true; I have seen them with mine own eyes —
listen to my adventure ; for it has a hearing upon the
object of your request.

" In my younger days, when a mere Arab of the desert,
I tended my father's camels. In traversing the Desert of
Aden, one of them strayed from the rest, and was lost. I
searched after it for several^lays, but in vain, until, wearied
and faint, I laid myself down one noontide,, and slept under
a palm-tree by the side of a scanty well. When 1 awoke,
I found myself at the gate of a city. I entered, and beheld
noble streets, and squares, and market-places ; but all were
silent, and without an inhabitant. I wandered on until I
came to a sumptuous palace with a garden, adorned with
fountains and fish-ponds, and groves and flowers, and or-
chards laden with delicious fruit ; but still no one was to
be seen. Upon which, appalled at this loneliness, I has-
tened to depart ; and, after issuing forth at the gate of the
city, I turned to look upon the place, but it was no longer
to be seen, nothing but the silent desert extended before
my eyes.

" In the neighbourhood I met with an aged dervise,
learned in the traditions and secrets of the land, and related
to him what had befallen me. This, said he, is the far-
famed garden of Irem, one of the wonders of the desert.
It only appears at times to some wanderer like thyself,
gladdening him with the sight of towers and palaces, and
garden walls overhung with richly-laden fruit-trees, and
then vanishes, leaving nothing but a lonely desert. And
this is the story of it. In old times, when this country
was inhabited by the Addites, King Sheddad, the son of
Ad, the great-grandson of Noah, founded here a splendid
city. When it was finished, and he saw its grandeur, his
heart was puffed up with pride and arrogance, and he de-
termined to build a royal palace, with gardens that should
rival all that was related in the Koran of the celestial para-
dise. But the curse of Heaven fell upon him for his pre-
sumption. He and his subjects were swept from the earth,
and his splendid city, and palace, and gardens, were laid

LEGEND OF THE ARABIAN ASTROLOGER. 93

under a perpetual spell, that hides them from the human
sight, excepting that they are seen at intervals, by way of
keeping his sin in perpetual remembrance.

" This story, O king, and the wonders I had seen, ever
dwelt in my mind; and in after-years, when I had been
in Egypt, and was possessed of the book of knowledge of
Solomon the wise, I determined to return and revisit the
garden of Irem. I did so, and found it revealed to my in-
structed sight. I took possession of the palace of Sheddad,
and passed several days in his mock paradise. The genii
who watch over the place were obedient to my magic power,
and revealed to me the spells by which the whole garden
had been, as it were, conjured into existence, and by which
it was rendered invisible. Such a palace and garden, O king,
can I make for thee, even here, on the mountain above thy
city. Do I not know all the secret spells ? and am I not
in possession of the book of knowledge of Solomon the
wise ? "

" O wise son of Abu Ajeeb ! " exclaimed Aben Habuz,
trembling with eagerness, " thou art a traveller indeed,
and hast seen and learned marvellous things ! Contrive
me such a paradise, and ask any reward, even to the half
of my kingdom."

" Alas ! " replied the other, " thou knowest I am an old
man, and a philosopher, and easily satisfied; all the reward
I ask is the first beast of burthen, with its load, that shall
enter the magic portal of the palace."

The monarch gladly agreed to so moderate a stipulation,
and the astrologer began his work. On the summit of the
hill, immediately above his subterranean hermitage, he
caused a great gateway or barbican to be erected, opening
through the centre of a strong tower.

There was an outer vestibule or porch, with a lofty arch,
and within it a portal secured by massive gates. On the
key-stone of the portal the astrologer, with his own hand,
wrought the figure of a huge key ; and on the key-stone
of the outer arch of the vestibule, which was loftier than
that of the portal, he carved a gigantic hand. These were
potent talismans, over which he repeated many sentences
in an unknown tongue.

{H THE ALHAMBRA.

When this gateway was finished, he shut himself up for
two days in his astrological hall, engaged in secret incant-
ations ; on the third he ascended the hill, and passed the
whole day on its summit. At a late hour of the night he
came down, and presented himself before Aben Habuz.
" At length, O king," said he, " my labour is accomplished.
On the summit of the hill stands one of the most delectable
palaces that ever the head of man devised, or the heart of
man desired. It contains sumptuous halls and galleries,
delicious gardens, cool fountains, and fragrant baths ; in a
word, the whole mountain is converted into a paradise.
Like tbe garden of Irem, it is protected by a mighty charm,
which hides it from the view and search of mortals, ex-
cepting such as possess the secret of its talismans."

" Enough ! " cried Aben Habuz, joyfully, ff to-morrow
morning with the first light we will ascend and take pos-
session." The happy monarch slept but little that night.
Scarcely had the rays of the sun begun to play about the
snowy summit of the Sierra Nevada, when he mounted his
steed, and, accompanied only by a few chosen attendants,
ascended a steep and narrow road leading up the hill.
Beside him, on a white palfrey, rode the Gothic princess,
her whole dress sparkling with jewels, while round her neck
was suspended her silver lyre. The astrologer walked on
the other side of the king, assisting his steps with his
hieroglyphic staff, for he never mounted steed of any kind.

Aben Habuz looked to see the towers of the palace
brightening above him, and the embowered terraces of its
gardens stretching along the heights ; but as yet nothing
of the kind was to be described. " That is the mystery
and safeguard of the place," said the astrologer ; ' e nothing
can be discerned until you have passed the spell-bound
gateway, and been put in possession of the place."

As they approached the gateway, the astrologer paused,
and pointed out to the king the mystic hand and key carved
upon the portal and the arch. e< These," said he, " are the
talismans which guard the entrance to this paradise. Until
yonder hand shall reach down and seize that key, neither
mortal power nor magic artifice can prevail against the lord
of this mountain."

LEGEND OP THE ARABIAN ASTROLOGER. 95

While Aben Habuz was gazing with open mouth, and
silent wonder, at these mystic talismans, the palfrey of the
princess proceeded, and bore her in at the portal, to the
very centre of the barbican.

" Behold," cried the astrologer, " my promised reward ;
the first animal with its burthen that should enter the
magic gateway."

Aben Habuz smiled at what he considered a pleasantry
of the ancient man ; but when he found him to be in
earnest, his grey beard trembled with indignation.

" Son of Abu Ajeeb," said he, sternly, " what equivo-
cation is this ? Thou knowest the meaning of my promise:
the first beast of burthen, with its load, that should enter
this portal. Take the strongest mule in my stables, load
it with the most precious things of my treasury, and it is
thine ; but dare not raise thy thoughts to her who is the
delight of my heart."

" What need I of wealth," cried the astrologer, scorn-
fully ; ' c have I not the book of knowledge of Solomon the
wise, and through it the command of the secret treasures
of the earth ? The princess is mine by right ; thy royal
word is pledged ; I claim her as my own."

The princess looked down haughtily from her palfrey,
and a light smile of scorn curled her rosy lip at this dispute
between two grey-beards for the possession of youth and
beauty. The wrath of the monarch got the better of his
discretion. "Base son of the desert," cried he, <e thou
may'st be master of many arts, but know me for thy master,
and presume not to juggle with thy king."

" My master ! " echoed the astrologer, <l my king !
The monarch of a mole-hill to claim sway over him who
possesses the talismans of Solomon ! Farewell, Aben Habuz j
reign over thy petty kingdom, and revel in thy paradise of
fools ; for me, 1 will laugh at thee in my philosophic re-
tirement."

So saying, he seized the bridle of the palfrey, smote the
earth with his staff, and sank with the Gothic princess
through the centre of the barbican. The earth closed over
them, and no trace remained of the opening by which they
had descended.

THE ALHAMBRA.

Aben Habuz was struck dumb for a time with astonish-
ment. Recovering himself, he ordered a thousand work-
men to dig, with pickaxe and spade, into the ground where
the astrologer had disappeared. They digged and digged,
but in vain ; the flinty bosom of the hill resisted their im-
plements ; or if they did penetrate a little way, the earth
filled in again as fast as they threw it out. Aben Habuz
sought the mouth of the cavern at the foot of the hill,
leading to the subterranean palace of the astrologer ; but it
was nowhere to be found. Where once had been an en-
trance, was now a solid surface of primeval rock. With
the disappearance of Ibrahim Ebn Abu Ajeeb, ceased the
benefit of his talismans. The bronze horseman remained
fixed, with his face turned toward the hill, and his spear
pointed to the spot where the astrologer had descended, as
if there still lurked the deadliest foe of Aben Habuz.

From time to time the sound of music, and the tones of
a female voice, could be faintly heard from the bosom of
the hill ; and a peasant one day brought word to the king,
that in the preceding night he had found a fissure in the
rock, by which he had crept in, until he looked down into a
subterranean hall, in which sat the astrologer, on a magni-
ficent divan, slumbering and nodding to the silver lyre of the
princess, which seemed to hold a magic sway over his senses.

Aben Habuz sought the fissure in the rock, but it was
again closed. He renewed the attempt to unearth his rival,
but all in vain. The spell of the hand and key was too
potent to be "counteracted by human power. As to the
summit of the mountain, the site of the promised palace
and garden, it remained a naked waste ; either the boasted
elysium was hidden from sight by enchantment, or was a
mere fable of the astrologer. The world charitably supposed
the latter, and some used to call the 'place " The King's
Folly;" while others named it " The Fool's Paradise."

Too add to the chagrin of Aben Habuz, the neighbours
whom he had defied and taunted, and cut up at his leisure
while master of the talismanic horseman, finding him no
longer protected by magic spell, made inroads into his ter-
ritories from all sides, and the remainder of the life of the
most pacific of monarchs was a tissue of turmoils.

THE TOWER OF LAS INFANTAS. 97

At length Aben Habuz died, and was buried. Ages
have since rolled away. The Alhambra has been built on
the eventful mountain, and in some measure realises the
fabled delights of the garden of Irem. The spell-bound
gateway still exists entire, protected no doubt by the mystic
hand and key, and now forms the Gate of Justice, the grand
entrance to the fortress. Under that gateway, it is said,
the old astrologer remains in his subterranean hall, nodding
on his divan, lulled by the silver lyre of the princess.

The old invalid sentinels who mount guard at the gate
hear the strains occasionally in the summer nights ; and,
yielding to their soporific power, doze quietly at their posts.
Nay, so drowsy an influence pervades the place, that even
those who watch by day may generally be seen nodding on
the stone benches of the barbican, or sleeping under the
neighbouring trees; so that, in fact, it is the drowsiest mili-
tary post in all Christendom. All this, say the ancient
legends, will endure from age to age. The princess will
remain captive to the astrologer ; and the astrologer, bound
up in magic slumber by the princess, until the last day,
unless the mystic hand shall grasp the fated key, and dispel
the whole charm of this enchanted mountain.

THE TOWER OF LAS INFANTAS.

IN an evening's stroll up a narrow glen, overshadowed by
fig-trees, pomegranates, and myrtles, that divides the lands
of the fortress from those of the Generalife, I was struck
with the romantic appearance of a Moorish tower in the outer
wall of the Alhambra, that rose high above the tree-tops, and
caught the ruddy rays of the setting sun. A solitary window
at a great height commanded a view of the glen; and as I
was regarding it, a young female looked out, with her head
adorned with flowers. She was evidently superior to the
usual class of people that inhabit the old towers of the

8 THE ALHAMBRA.

fortress ; and this sudden and picturesque glimpse of her
reminded me of the descriptions of captive beauties in fairy
tales. These fanciful associations of my mind were in-
creased on being informed by my attendant Mateo, that
this was the Tower of the Princesses, (La Torre de las
Infantas,) so called, from having been, according to tradition,
the residence of the daughters of the Moorish kings. I
have since visited the tower. It is not generally shown to
strangers, though well worthy attention; for the interior is
equal, for beauty of architecture and delicacy of ornament,
to any part of the palace. The elegance of the central
hall,, with its marble fountain, its lofty arches, and richly
fretted dome ; the arabesques and stucco work of the small
but well-proportioned chambers, though injured by time
and neglect,, all accord with the story of its being anciently
the abode of royal beauty.

The little old fairy queen who lives under the staircase
of the Alhambra, and frequents the evening tertulias of
Dame Antonia, tells some fanciful traditions about three
Moorish princesses, who were once shut up in this tower
by their father, a tyrant king of Granada, and were only
permitted to ride out at night about the hills, when no one
was permitted to come in their way under pain of death.
They still, according to her account, may be seen occasion-
ally when the moon is in the full, riding in lonely places
along the mountain side, on palfreys richly caparisoned and
sparkling with jewels, but they vanish on being spoken to.

But before I relate any thing further respecting these
princesses, the reader may be anxious to know something
about the fair inhabitant of the tower with her head dressed
with flowers, who looked out from the lofty window. She
proved to be the newly-married spouse of the worthy ad-
jutant of invalids ; who, though well stricken in years, had
had the courage to take to his bosom a young and buxom
Andalusian damsel. May the good old cavalier be happy
in his choice, and find the Tower of the Princesses a more
secure residence for female beauty than it seems to have
proved in the time of the Moslems, if we may believe the
following legend !

LEGEND OF THE THREE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES. 99

LEGEND OF THE THREE BEAUTIFUL
PRINCESSES.

IN old times there reigned a Moorish king in Granada,
whose name was Mohamed, to which his subjects 'added
the appellation of El Haygari, or " The Left-handed."
Some say he was so called on account of his heing really
more expert with his sinister than his dexter hand ; others
because he was prone to take every thing by the wrong
end, or, in other words, to mar wherever he meddled.
Certain it is, either through misfortune or mismanagement,
he was continually in trouble : thrice was he driven from
his throne, and, on one occasion, barely escaped to Africa
with his life, in the disguise of a fisherman. Still he was
as brave as he was blundering ; and though left-handed,,
wielded his scymitar to such purpose, that he each time
re-established himself upon his throne by dint of hard
fighting. Instead, however, of learning wisdom from
adversity, he hardened his neck, and stiffened his left arm
in wilfulness. The evils of a public nature which he thus
brought upon himself and his kingdom, may be learned by
those who will delve into the Arabian annals of Granada ;
the present legend deals but with his domestic policy.

As this Mohamed was one day riding forth with a train
of his courtiers, by the foot of the mountain of Elvira, he
met a band of horsemen returning from a foray into the
land of the Christians. They were conducting a long
string of mules laden with spoil, and many captives of both
sexes, among whom the monarch was struck with the ap-
pearance of a beautiful damsel, richly attired, who sat
weeping on a low palfrey, and heeded not the consoling words
of a duenna who rode beside her.

The monarch was struck with her beauty, and, on in-
quiring of the captain of the troop, found that she was the
daughter of the alcayde of a frontier fortress, that had
been surprised and sacked in the course of the foray.

100 THE ALHAMBRA.

Mohamed claimed her as his royal share of the booty, and
had her conveyed to his harem in the Alhambra. There
every thing was devised to soothe her melancholy ; and
the monarch, more and more enamoured, sought to make
her his queen. The Spanish maid at first repulsed his
addresses — he was an infidel — he was the open foe of her
country — what was worse, he was stricken in years !

The monarch, finding his assiduities*of no avail, deter-
mined to enlist in his favour the duenna, who had been
captured with the lady. She was an Andalusian by birth,
whose Christian name is forgotten, being mentioned in
Moorish legends by no other appellation than that of the
discreet Kadiga — and discreet, in truth, she was, as her
•whole history makes evident. No sooner had the Moorish
king held a little private conversation with her, than she
saw at once the cogency of his reasoning, and undertook
his cause with her young mistress.

11 Go to, now ! " cried she, lc what is there in all this to
weep and wail about ? Is it not better to be mistress of
this beautiful palace, with all its gardens and fountains,
than to be shut up within your father's old frontier tower?
As to this Mohamed being an infidel, what is that to the
purpose ? You marry him, not his religion : and if he is
waxing a little old, the sooner will you be a widow, and
mistress of yourself; at any rate, you are in his power,
and must either be a queen or a slave. When in the
hands of a robber, it is better to sell one's merchandise for
a fair price, than to have it taken by main force."

The arguments of the discreet Kadiga prevailed. The
Spanish lady dried her tears, and became the spouse of
Mohamed the Left-handed ; she even conformed, in
appearance, to the faith of her royal husband; and her
discreet duenna immediately became a zealous convert to
the Moslem doctrines ; it was then the latter received the
Arabian name of Kadiga, and was permitted to remain in
the confidential employ of her mistress.

In due process of time the Moorish king was made the
proud and happy father of three lovely daughters, all born
at a birth : he could have wished they had been sons, but
consoled himself with the idea that three daughters at a

LEGEND OP THE THREE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES. 101

birth were pretty well for a man somewhat stricken in
years, and left-handed !

As usual with all Moslem monarchs, he summoned his
astrologers on this happy event. They cast the nativities
of the three princesses, and shook their heads. (f Daugh-
ters, O king !" said they, " are always precarious property;
but these will most need your watchfulness when they arrive
at a marriageable age : at that time gather them under your
wings, and trust them to no other guardianship."

Mohamed the Left-handed was acknowledged to be a
wise king by his courtiers, and was certainly so considered
by himself. The prediction of the astrologers caused him
but little disquiet, trusting to his ingenuity to guard his
daughters and outwit the fates.

The threefold birth was the last matrimonial trophy
of the monarch ; his queen bore him no more children,
and died within a few years, bequeathing her infant daugh-
ters to his love, and to the fidelity of the discreet Kadiga.

Many years had yet to elapse before the princesses would
arrive at that period of danger — the marriageable age.
" It is good, however, to be cautious in time," said the
shrewd monarch ; so he determined to have them reared
in the royal castle of Salobrena. This was a sumptuous
palace, incrusted, as it were, in a powerful Moorish fortress
on the summit of a hill that overlooks the Mediterranean
Sea. It was a royal retreat, in which the Moslem monarchs
shut up such of their relations as might endanger their
safety, allowing them all kinds of luxuries and amusements,
in the midst of which they passed their lives in voluptuous
indolence.

Here the princesses remained, immured from the world,
but surrounded by enjoyments, and attended by female slaves
who anticipated their wishes. They had delightful gardens
for their recreation, filled with the rarest fruits and flowers,
with aromatic groves and perfumed baths. On three sides
the castle looked down upon a rich valley, enamelled with all
kinds of culture, and bounded by the lofty Alpuxarra moun-
tains ; on the other side it overlooked the broad sunny sea.

In this delicious abode, in a propitious climate, and
under a cloudless sky, the three princesses grew up into
H 3

102 THE ALHAMBBA.

wondrous beauty ; but, though all reared alike, they gave
early tokens of diversity of character. Their names were
Zayda, -Zorayda, and Zorahayda ; and such was their order
of seniority, for there had been precisely three minutes be-
tween their births.

Zayda, the eldest, was of an intrepid spirit, and took the
lead of her sisters in every thing, as she had done in enter-
ing first into the world. She was curious and inquisitive,
and fond of getting at the bottom of things.

Zorayda had a great feeling for beauty, which was the
reason, no doubt, of her delighting to regard her own
image in a mirror or a fountain, and of her fondness for
flowers, and jewels, and other tasteful ornaments.

As to Zorahayda, the youngest, she was soft and timid,
and extremely sensitive, with a vast deal of disposable ten-
derness, as was evident from her number of pet-flowers,
and pet-birds, and pet-animals, all of which she cherished
\vith the fondest care. Her amusements, too, were of a
gentle nature, and mixed up with musing and reverie. She
would sit for hours in a balcony, gazing on the sparkling
stars of a summer's night ; or on the sea when lit up by
the moon ; and at such times, the song of a fisherman,
faintly heard from the beach, or the notes of a Moorish
flute from some gliding bark, sufficed to elevate her feelings
into ecstasy. The least uproar of the elements, however,
filled her with dismay ; and a clap of thunder was enough
to throw her into a swoon.

Years rolled on smoothly and serenely ; the discreet
Kadiga, to whom the princesses were confided, was faith-
ful to her trust, and attended them with unremitting care.

The castle of Salobrena, as has been said, was built upon
a hill on the sea-coast. One of the exterior walls straggled
down the profile of the hill, until it reached a jutting rock
overhanging the sea, with a narrow sandy beach at its foot,
laved by the rippling billows. A small watch-tower on
this rock had been fitted up as a pavilion, with latticed
windows to admit the sea breeze. Here the princesses
used to pass the sultry hours of mid-day.

The curious Zayda was one day seated at one of the
windows of the pavilion, as her sisters, reclining on otto-

LEGEND OF THE THREE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES. 103

mans, were taking the siesta, or noontide slumber. Her
attention had been attracted to a galley which came coast-
ing along with measured strokes of the oar. As it drew
near, she observed that it was filled with armed men. The
galley anchored at the foot of the tower : a number of
Moorish soldiers landed on the narrow beach, conducting
several Christian prisoners. The curious Zayda awakened
her sisters, and all three peeped cautiously through the
close jalousies of the lattice, which screened them from
sight. Among the prisoners were three Spanish cavaliers,
richly dressed. They were in the flower of youth, and of
noble presence ; and the lofty manner in which they
carried themselves, though loaded with chains and sur-
rounded with enemies, bespoke the grandeur of their souls.
The princesses gazed with intense and breathless interest.
Cooped up as they had been in this castle among female
attendants, seeing nothing of the male sex but black slaves
or the rude fishermen of the sea-coast, it is not to be won
dered at that the appearance of three gallant cavaliers, in
the pride of youth and manly beauty, should produce some
commotion in their bosom.

" Did ever nobler being tread the earth than that cava-
lier in crimson ? " cried Zayda, the eldest of the sisters.
" See how proudly he bears himself, as though all around
him were his slaves ! "

" But notice that one in green !" exclaimed Zorayda.
" What grace ! what elegance ! what spirit I "

The gentle Zorahayda said nothing, but she secretly
gave preference to the cavalier in green.

The princesses remained gazing until the prisoners were
out of sight ; then heaving longdrawn sighs, they turned
round, looked at each other for a moment, and sat down,
musing and pensive, on their ottomans.

The discreet Kadiga found them in this situation ; they
related to her what they had seen, and even the withered
heart of the duenna was warmed. " Poor youths ! " ex-
claimed she, " I'll warrant their captivity makes many a
fair and high-born lady's heart ache in their native land !
Ah, my children, you have little idea of the life these cava-
liers lead in their own country. Such prankling at tourna-
H 4

104 THE ALHAMBRA.

ments ! such devotion to the ladies ! such courting and
serenading ! "

The curiosity of Zayda was fully aroused ; she was in-
satiable in her inquiries, arid drew from the duenna the
most animated pictures of the scenes of her youthful days
and native land. The beautiful Zorayda bridled up, and
slily regarded herself in a mirror, when the theme turned
upon the charms of the Spanish ladies ; while Zorahayda
suppressed a struggling sigh atythe mention of moonlight
serenades.

Every day the curious Zayda renewed her inquiries, and
every day the sage duenna repeated her stories, which were
listened to with profound interest, though with frequent
sighs, by her gentle auditors. The discreet old woman
at length awakened to the mischief she might be doing.
She had been accustomed to think of the princesses only
as children ; but they had imperceptibly ripened beneath
her eye, and now bloomed before her three lovely damsels
of the marriageable age. It is time, thought the duenna,
to give notice to the king.

Mohamed the Left-handed was seated one morning on a
divan in one of the cool halls of the Alhambra, when a
slave arrived from the fortress of Salobrena, with a message
from the sage Kadiga, congratulating him on the anniversary
of his daughters' birth-day. The slave at the same time
presented a delicate little basket decorated with flowers,
within which, on a couch of vine and fig-leaves, lay a
peach, an apricot, and a nectarine, with their bloom and
down and dewy sweetness upon them, and all in the early
stage of tempting ripeness. The monarch was versed in
the Oriental language of fruits and flowers, and readily
divined the meaning of this emblematical offering.

" So," said he, " the critical period pointed out by the
astrologers is arrived : my daughters are at a marriageable
age. What is to be done ? They are shut up from the
eyes of men ; they are under the eyes of the discreet
Kadiga — all very good, — but still they are not under my
own eye, as was prescribed by the astrologers : I must
gather them under my wing, and trust to no other guar-
dianship."

LEGEND OF THE THREE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES. 105

So saying, he ordered that a tower of the Alhambra
should be prepared for their reception, and departed at the
head of his guards for the fortress of Salobrena, to conduct
them home in person.

About three years had elapsed since Mohamed had be-
held his daughters, and he could scarcely credit his eyes at
the wonderful change which that small space of time had made
in their appearance. During the interval, they had passed
that wondrous boundary line in female life which separates
the crude, unformed, and thoughtless girl from the bloom-
ing, blushing, meditative woman. It is like passing from
the flat, bleak, uninteresting plains of La Mancha to the
voluptuous valleys and swelling hills of Andalusia.

Zayda was tall and finely-formed, with a lofty demean-
our and a penetrating eye. She entered with a stately and
decided step, and made a profound reverence to Mohamed,
treating him more as her sovereign than her father. Zo-
rayda was of the middle height, with an alluring look and
swimming gait, and a sparkling beauty, heightened by the
assistance of the toilette. She approached her father with
a smile, kissed his hand, and saluted him with several
stanzas from a popular Arabian poet, with which the mo-
narch was delighted. Zorahayda was shy and timid, smaller
than her sisters, and with a beauty of that tender beseech-
ing kind which looks for fondness and protection. She
was little fitted to command, like her elder sister, or to
dazzle like the second, but was rather formed to creep to
the bosom of manly affection, to nestle within it, and be
content. She drew near her father with a timid and al-
most faltering step, and would have taken his hand to kiss,
but on looking up into his face, and seeing it beaming with
a paternal smile, the tenderness of her nature broke forth,
and she threw herself upon his neck.

Mohamed the Left-handed surveyed his blooming daugh-
ters with mingled pride and perplexity ; for while he ex-
ulted in their charms, he bethought himself of the prediction
of the astrologers. " Three daughters ! three daughters ! "
muttered he repeatedly to himself, " and all of a marriage-
able age ! Here's tempting Hesperian fruit, that requires
a dragon watch !"

106

THE ALHAMBRA.

He prepared for his return to Granada, by sending
heralds before him, commanding every one to keep out of
the road by which he was to pass, and that all doors and
windows should be closed at the approach of the princesses.
This done he set forth, escorted by a troop of black horse-
men of hideous aspect, and clad in shining armour.

The princesses rode beside the king, closely veiled, on
beautiful white palfreys, with velvet caparisons, embroidered
with gold, and sweeping the ground ; the bits and stirrups
were of gold, and the silken bridles adorned with pearls and
precious stones. The palfreys were covered with little
silver bells, that made the most musical tinkling as they
ambled gently along. Woe to the unlucky wight, however,
who lingered in the way when he heard the tinkling of
these bells ! — the guards were ordered to cut him down
without mercy.

The cavalcade was drawing near to Granada, when it
overtook, on the banks of the river Xenil, a small body of
Moorish soldiers with a convoy of prisoners. It was too
late for the soldiers to get out of the way, so they threw
themselves on their faces on the earth, ordering their cap-
tives to do the like. Among the prisoners were the three
identical cavaliers whom the princesses had seen from the
pavilion. They either did not understand, or were too
haughty to obey the order, and remained standing and
gazing upon the cavalcade as it approached.

The ire of the monarch was kindled at this flagrant
defiance of his orders. Drawing his scymitar, and press-
ing forward, he was about to deal a left-handed blow, that
would have been fatal to, at least, one of the gazers,
when the princesses crowded round him, and implored
mercy for the prisoners ; even the timid Zorahayda forgot
her shyness, and became eloquent in their behalf. Mo-
hamed paused, with uplifted scymitar, when the captain
of the guard threw himself at his feet. " Let not your
majesty," said he, (< do a deed that may cause great scandal
throughout the kingdom. These are three brave and
noble Spanish knights, who have been taken in battle, fight-
ing like lions ; they are of high birth, and may bring great
ransoms." — " Enough ! " said the king ; ' ( I will spare

LEGEND OP THE THREE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES.

107

their lives, but punish their audacity : let them be taken
to the Vermilion Towers and put to hard labour."

Mohamed was making one of his usual left-handed
blunders. In the tumult and agitation of this blustering
scene, the veils of the three princesses had been thrown
back, and the radiance of their beauty revealed ; and in
prolonging the parley, the king had given that beauty
time to have its full effect. In those days people fell in
love much more suddenly than at present, as all ancient
stories make manifest : it is not a matter of wonder,
therefore, that the hearts of the three cavaliers were com-
pletely captured ; especially as gratitude was added to
their admiration : it is a little singular, however, though
no less certain, that each of them was enraptured with a
several beauty. As to the princesses, they were more than
ever struck with the noble demeanour of the captives, and
cherished in their breasts all that they had heard of their
valour and noble lineage.

The cavalcade resumed its march ; the three princesses
rode pensively along on their tinkling palfreys, now and
then stealing a glance behind in search of the Christian
captives, and the latter were conducted to their allotted
prison in the Vermilion Towers.

The residence provided for the princesses was one of
the most dainty that fancy could devise. It was in a
tower somewhat apart from the main palace of the Al-
hambra, though connected with it by the wall that encir-
cled the whole summit of the hill. On one side it looked
into the interior of the fortress, and had, at its foot, a
small garden filled with the rarest flowers. On the other
side it overlooked a deep embowered ravine that separated
the grounds of the Alhambra from those of the Generalife.
The interior of the tower was divided into small fairy
apartments, beautifully ornamented in the light Arabian
style, surrounding a lofty hall, the vaulted roof of which
rose almost to the summit of the tower. The walls and
ceiling of the hall were adorned with arabesque and fret-
work, sparkling with gold and with brilliant penciling.
In the centre of the marble pavement was an alabaster
fountain, set round with aromatic shrubs and flowers, and

108 THE ALHAMBRA.

throwing up a jet of water that cooled the whole edifice,
and had a lulling sound. Round the hall were suspended
cages of gold and silver wire, containing singing-birds of
the finest plumage or sweetest note.

The princesses had been represented as always cheerful
when in the Castle of Salobrena ; the king had expected
to see them enraptured with the Alhambra. To his sur-
prise, however, they began to pine, and grow melancholy,
and dissatisfied with every thing around them. The
flowers yielded them no fragrance, the song of the night-
ingale disturbed their night's rest, and they were out of all
patience with the alabaster fountain with its eternal drop-
drop and splash-splash, from morning till night, and from
night till morning.

The king, who was somewhat of a testy, tyrannical
disposition, took this at first in high dudgeon ; but he re-
flected that his daughters had arrived at an age when the
female mind expands and its desires augment. " They are
no longer children," said he to himself ; " they are women
grown, and require suitable objects to interest them." He
put in requisition, therefore, all the dress-makers, and the
jewellers, and the artificers in gold and silver throughout
the Zacatin of Granada, and the princesses were over-
whelmed with robes of silk, and of tissue, and of brocade,
and Cashmere shawls, and necklaces of pearls and diamonds,
and rings, and bracelets, and anklets, and all manner of
precious things.

All, however, was of no avail ; the princesses continued
pale and languid in the midst of their finery, and looked
like three blighted rose-buds drooping from one stalk.
The king was at his wits' end. He had in general a
laudable confidence in his own judgment, and never took
advice. The whims and caprices of three marriageable
damsels, however, are sufficient, said he, to puzzle the
shrewdest head. So, for once in his life, he called in the
aid of counsel.

The person to whom he applied was the experienced
duenna.

" Kadiga," said the king, " I know you to be one of
the most discreet women in the whole world, as well as

LEGEND OF THE THREE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES. 109

one of the most trustworthy ; for these reasons, I have
always continued you about the persons of my daughters.
Fathers cannot be too wary in whom they repose such con-
fidence ; I now wish you to find out the secret malady
that is preying upon the princesses,, and to devise some
means of restoring them to health and cheerfulness."

Kadiga promised implicit obedience. In fact, she knew
more of the malady of the princesses than they did them-
selves. Shutting herself up with them, however, she en-
deavoured to insinuate herself into their confidence.

" My dear children, what is the reason you are so dismal
and downcast, in so beautiful a place, where you have every
thing that heart can wish ? "

The princesses looked vacantly round the apartment,
and sighed.

" What more, then, would you have ? Shall I get you
the wonderful parrot that talks all languages, and is the
delight of Granada ? "

' e Odious ! " exclaimed the Rrincess Zayda. " A horrid,
screaming bird, that chatters words without ideas : one
must be without brains to tolerate such a pest."

" Shall I send for a monkey from the rock of Gibraltar,
to divert you with his antics ? "

" A monkey ! faugh !" cried Zorayda ; " the detestable
mimic of man. I hate the nauseous animal."

" What say you to the famous black singer, Casern,
from the royal harem in Morocco. They say he has a
voice as fine as a woman's."

<c I am terrified at the sight of these black slaves," said
the delicate Zorahayda ; " besides, I have lost all relish
for music."

" Ah ! my child, you would not say so," replied the old
woman, slily, " had you heard the music I heard last
evening, from the three Spanish cavaliers, whom we met
on our journey. But, bless me, children ! what is the
matter that you blush so, and are in such a flutter ? "

e< Nothing, nothing, good mother ; pray proceed."

" Well ; as I was passing by the Vermilion Towers last
evening, I saw the three cavaliers resting after their day's
labour. One was playing on the guitar, so gracefully, and

110 THE ALHAMBRA.

the others sung by turns ; and they did it in such style,
that the very guards seemed like statues, or men enchanted.
Allah forgive me ! I could not help being moved at hearing
the songs of my native country. And then to see three
such noble and handsome youths in chains and slavery !"

Here the kind-hearted old woman could not restrain her
tears.

" Perhaps, mother, you could manage to procure us a
sight of these cavaliers," said Zayda.

" I think," said Zorayda, " a little music would be
quite reviving."

The timid Zorahayda said nothing, but threw her arms
round the neck of Kadiga.

' ' Mercy on me ! " exclaimed the discreet old woman :
" what are you talking of, my children ? Your father
would be the death of us all if he heard of such a thing.
To be sure, these cavaliers are evidently well-bred, and
high-minded youths ; but what of that ? they are the
enemies of our faith, and you must not even think of them
but with abhorrence."

There is an admirable intrepidity in the female will,
particularly when about the marriageable age, which is
not to be deterred by dangers and prohibitions. The
princesses hung round their old duenna, and coaxed, and en-
treated, and declared that a refusal would break their hearts.

What could she do ? She was certainly the most dis-
creet old woman in the whole world, and one of the most
faithful servants to the king ; but was she to see three
beautiful princesses break their hearts for the mere tinkling
of a guitar ? Besides, though she had been so long
among the Moors, and changed her faith in imitation of
her mistress, like a trusty follower, yet she was a Spaniard
born, and had the lingerings of Christianity in her heart.
So she set about to contrive how the wish of the princesses
might be gratified.

The Christian captives, confined in the Vermilion
Towers, were under the charge of a big- whiskered, broad-
shouldered renegado, called Hussein Baba, who was re-
puted to have a most itching palm. She went to him
privately, and slipping a broad piece of gold into his hand,

LEGEND OP THE THREE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES. Ill

" Hussein Baba," said she ; " my mistresses, the three
princesses, who are shut up in the tower, and in sad want
of amusement, have heard of the musical talents of the
three Spanish cavaliers, and are desirous of hearing a
specimen of their skill. I am sure you are too kind-
hearted to refuse them so innocent a gratification."

" What ! and to have my head set grinning over the
gate of my own tower ! for that would be the reward,
if the king should discover it."

" No danger of anything of the kind ; the affair may be
managed so that the whim of the princesses may be
gratified, and their father be never the wiser. You know
the deep ravine outside of the walls that passes immediately
below the tower. Put the three Christians to work there,
and at the intervals of their labour, let them play and
sing, as if for their own recreation. In this way the
princesses will be able to hear them from the windows of
the tower, and you may be sure of their paying well for
your compliance."

As the good old woman concluded her harangue, she
kindly pressed the rough hand of the renegado, and left
within it another piece of gold.

Her eloquence was irresistible. The very next day the
three cavaliers were put to work in the ravine. During
the noontide heat, when their fellow labourers were sleep-
ing in the shade, and the guard nodding drowsily at his
post, they seated themselves among the herbage at the foot
of the tower, and sang a Spanish roundelay to the accom-
paniment of the guitar.

The glen was deep, the tower was high, but their voices
rose distinctly in the stillness of the summer noon. The
princesses listened from their balcony ; they had been
taught the Spanish language by their duenna, and were
moved by the tenderness of the song. The discreet
Kadiga, on the contrary, was terribly shocked. " Allah
preserve us ! " cried she, ' ' they are singing a love ditty,
addressed to yourselves. Did ever mortal hear of such
audacity ? I will run to the slave master, and have them
soundly bastinadoed."

hat ! bastinado such gallant cavaliers, and for

112 THE ALHAMBRA.

singing so charmingly ! " The three beautiful princesses
were filled with horror at the idea. With all her virtuous
indignation, the good old woman was of a placable nature,
and easily appeased. Besides, the music seemed to have a
beneficial effect upon her young mistresses. A rosy bloom
had already come to their cheeks, and their eyes began to
sparkle. She made no further objection, therefore, to the
amorous ditty of the cavaliers.

When it was finished, the princesses remained silent
for a time ; at length Zorayda took up a lute, and with a
sweet, though faint and trembling voice, warbled a little
Arabian air, the burthen of which was, " The rose is con-
cealed among her leaves, but she listens with delight to the
song of the nightingale."

From this time forward the cavaliers worked almost
daily in the ravine. The considerate Hussein Baba became
more and mpre indulgent, and daily more prone to sleep at
his post. For some time a vague intercourse was kept up
by popular songs and romances, which, in some measure,
responded to each other, and breathed the feelings of the
parties. By degrees, the princesses showed themselves at
the balcony, when they could do so without being per-
ceived by the guards. They conversed with the cavaliers
also, by means of flowers, with the symbolical language of
which they were mutually acquainted : the difficulties of
their intercourse added to its charms, and strengthened the
passion they had so singularly conceived ; for love delights
.to struggle with difficulties, and thrives the most hardily
on the scantiest soil.

The change effected in the looks and spirits of the prin-
cesses by this secret intercourse, surprised and gratified the
left-handed king ; but no one was more elated than the
discreet Kadiga, who considered it all owing to her able
management.

At length there was an interruption in this telegraphic
correspondence : for several days the cavaliers ceased to
make their appearance in the glen. The three beautiful
princesses looked out from the tower in vain. In vain
they stretched their swan-like necks from the balcony ; in
vain they sang like captive nightingales in their cage :

LEGEND OF THE THREE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES. 113

nothing was to be seen of their Christian lovers ; not a
note responded from the groves. The discreet Kadiga
sallied forth in quest of intelligence, and soon returned
with a face full of trouble. " Ah, my children !" cried
she, <e I saw what all this would come to, but you would
have your way ; you may now hang up your lutes on the
willows. The Spanish cavaliers are now ransomed by
their families ; they are down in Granada, and preparing
to return to their native country."

The three beautiful princesses were in despair at the
tidings. The fair Zayda was indignant at the slight put
upon them, in thus being deserted without a parting word.
Zorayda wrung her hands and cried, and looked in the
glass, and wiped away her tears and cried afresh. The
gentle Zorahayda leaned over the balcony and wept in
silence, and her tears fell drop by drop among the flowers
of the bank where the faithless cavaliers had so often been
seated.

The discreet Kadiga did all in her power to soothe
their sorrow. et Take comfort, my children," said she,
" this is nothing when you are used to it. This is the
way of the world. Ah ! when you are as old as I am, you
will know how to value these men. I '11 warrant, these
cavaliers have their loves among the Spanish beauties of
Cordova and Seville, and will soon be serenading under
their balconies, and thinking no more of the Moorish
beauties in the Alhambra. Take comfort, therefore, my
children, and drive them from your hearts."

The comforting words of the discreet Kadiga only
redoubled the distress of the three princesses, and for two
days they continued inconsolable. On the morning of the
third, the good old woman entered their apartment, all
ruffling with indignation,

" Who would have believed such insolence in mortal
man ! " exclaimed she, as soon as she could find words to
express herself ; cc but I am rightly served for having
connived at this deception of your worthy father. Never
talk more to me of your Spanish cavaliers."

"Why, what has happened, good Kadiga?" exclaimed
the princesses in breathless anxiety.

114 THE ALHAMBRA.

" What has happened ! — treason has happened ; or
what is almost as bad, treason has been proposed, and
to me, the most faithful of subjects, the trustiest of
duennas ! Yes, my children, the Spanish cavaliers have
dared to tamper with me, that I should persuade you
to fly with them to Cordova, and become their wives !"

Here the excellent old woman covered her face with her
hands, and gave way to a violent burst of grief and
indignation. The three beautiful princesses turned pale
and red, pale and red, and trembled, and looked down,
and cast shy looks at each other, but said nothing. Mean-
time the old woman sat rocking backward and forward in
violent agitation, and now and then breaking out into ex-
clamations, ' ' That ever I should live to be so insulted ! —
I, the most faithful of servants ! "

At length the oldest princess, who had most spirit, and
always took the lead, approached her, and laying her hand
upon her shoulder, " Well, mother," said she, " supposing
we were willing to fly with these Christian cavaliers — is
such a thing possible ? "

The good old woman paused suddenly in her grief, and
looking up, " Possible!" echoed she; ff to be sure it is
possible. Have not the cavaliers already bribed Hussein
Baba, the renegade captain of the guard, and arranged the
whole plan ? But, then, to think of deceiving your father !
your father, who has placed such confidence in me !"
Here the worthy woman gave way to a fresh burst of
grief, and began again to rock backward and forward, and
to wring her hands.

" But our father has never placed any confidence in us,"
said the eldest princess, " but has trusted to bolts and
bars, and treated us as captives."

" Why, that is true enough," replied the old woman,
again pausing in her grief; " he lias indeed treated you
most unreasonably, keeping you shut up here, to waste
your bloom in a moping old tower, like roses left to
wither in a flower-jar. But, then, to fly from your native
land!"

" And is not the land we fly to the native land of our
mother, where we shall live in freedom ? And shall we

LEGEND OF THE THREE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES. 116

not each have a youthful husband in exchange for a severe
old father ? "

" Why, that again is all very true ; and your father, I
must confess, is rather tyrannical : but, what then,"
relapsing into her grief, " would you leave me behind to
bear the brunt of his vengeance ? "

" By no means, my good Kadiga ; cannot you fly with
us?"

" Very true, my child ; and, to tell the truth, when
I talked the matter over with Hussein Baba, he promised
to take care of me, if I would accompany you in your
flight : but, then, bethink you, my children, are you
willing to renounce the faith of your father ? "

" The Christian faith was the original faith of our
mother," said the eldest princess ; " I am ready to em-
brace it, and so, I am sure, are my sisters."

' ' Right again ! " exclaimed the old woman, brightening
up ; " it was the original faith of your mother, and
bitterly did she lament, on her death-bed, that she had re-
nounced it. I promised her then to take care of your
souls, and I rejoice to see that they are now in a fair way
to be saved. Yes, my children, I, too, was born a Chris-
tian, and have remained a Christian in my heart, and am
resolved to return to the faith. I have talked on the
subject with Hussein Baba, who is a Spaniard by birth,
and comes from a place not far from my native town. He
is equally anxious to see his own country, and to be re-
conciled to the church ; and the cavaliers have promised,
that, if we are disposed to become man and wife, on
returning to our native land, they will provide for us
handsomely."

In a word, it appeared that this extremely discreet and
provident old woman had consulted with the cavaliers
and the renegado, and had concerted the whole plan of
escape. The eldest princess immediately assented to it ;
and her example, as usual, determined the conduct of her
sisters. It is true, the youngest hesitated, for she was
gentle and timid of soul, and there was a struggle in her
bosom between filial feeling and youthful passion : the
latter, however, as usual, gained the victory, and with
i 2

116 THE ALHAMBRA.

silent tears, and stifled sighs, she prepared herself for
flight.

The rugged hill, on which the Alhambra is built, was,
in old times, perforated with subterranean passages, cut
through the rock, and leading from the fortress to various
parts of the city, and to distant sally-ports on the banks of
the Darro and the Xenil. They had been constructed at dif-
ferent times by the Moorish kings, as means of escape
from sudden insurrections, or of secretly issuing forth on
private enterprises. Many of them are now entirely lost,
while others remain, partly choked up with rubbish, and
partly walled up ; monuments of the jealous precautions
and warlike stratagems of the Moorish government. By
one of these passages, Hussein Baba had undertaken to
conduct the princesses to a sally-port beyond the walls of
the city, where the cavaliers were to be ready with fleet
steeds, to bear the whole party over the borders.

The appointed night arrived : the tower of the prin-
cesses had been locked up as usual, and the Alhambra
was buried in deep sleep. Towards midnight, the discreet
Kadiga listened from the balcony of a window that looked
into the garden. Hussein Baba, the renegado, was
already below, and gave the appointed signal. The
duenna fastened the end of a ladder of ropes to the
balcony, lowered it into the garden, and descended. The
two eldest princesses followed her with beating hearts ;
but when it came to the turn of the youngest princess,
Zorahayda, she hesitated and trembled. Several times she
ventured a delicate little foot upon the ladder, and as often
drew it back, while her poor little heart fluttered more and
more the longer she delayed. She cast a wistful look back
into the silken chamber ; she had lived in it, to be sure,
like a bird in a cage ; but within it she was secure : who
could tell what dangers might beset her, should she flutter
forth into the wide world ! Now she bethought her of
her gallant Christian lover, and her little foot was in-
stantly upon the ladder ; and anon she thought of her
father, and shrank back. But fruitless is the attempt to
describe the conflict in the bosom of one so young and tender,
and loving, but so timid, and so ignorant of the world.

LEGEND OF THE THREE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES. 117

In vain her sisters implored, the duenna scolded, and
the renegado blasphemed beneath the balcony ; the gentle
little Moorish maid stood doubting and wavering on the
verge of elopement ; tempted by the sweetness of the sin,
but terrified at its perils.

Every moment increased the danger of discovery. A
distant tramp was heard. " The patrols are walking the
rounds," cried the renegado : " if we linger, we perish.
Princess, descend instantly, or we leave you."

Zorahayda was for a moment in fearful agitation ; then
loosening the ladder of ropes, with desperate resolution, she
flung it from the balcony.

" It is decided ! " cried she ; " flight is now out of my
power ! Allah guide and bless ye, my dear sisters ! "

The two eldest princesses were shocked at the thoughts
of leaving her behind, and would fain have lingered, but
the patrol was advancing ; the renegado was furious, and
they were hurried away to the subterraneous passage.
They groped their way through a fearful labyrinth, cut
through the heart of the mountain, and succeeded in
reaching, undiscovered, an iron gate that opened outside
of the walls. The Spanish cavaliers were waiting to re-
ceive them, disguised as Moorish soldiers of the guard
commanded by the renegado.

The lover of Zorahayda was frantic, when he learned
that she had refused to leave the tower ; but there was no
time to waste in lamentations. The two princesses were
placed behind their lovers, the discreet Kadiga mounted
behind the renegado, and all set off at a round pace in the
direction of the pass of Lope, which leads through the
mountains towards Cordova.

They had not proceeded far when they heard the noise
of drums and trumpets from the battlements of the Al-
hambra.

ff Our flight is discovered," said the renegado.
" We have fleet steeds, the night is dark, and we may
distance- all pursuit," replied the cavaliers.

They put spurs to their horses, and scoured across the
Vega. They attained the foot of the mountain of Elvira,
which stretches like a promontory into the plain. The
i 3

118 THE ALHAMBRA.

renegade paused and listened. "As yet," said he,
" there is no one on our traces ; we shall make good our
escape to the mountains." While he spoke, a bale fire
sprang up in a light blaze on the top of the watch-tower
of the Alhambra.

fc Confusion ! " cried the renegade, <e that fire will put
all the guards of the passes on the alert. Away J away !
Spur like mad, — there is no time to be lost."

Away they dashed — the clattering of their horses'
hoofs echoed from rock to rock, as they swept along the
road that skirts the rocky mountain of Elvira. As they
galloped on, they beheld that the bale fire of the Alhambra
was answered in every direction ; light after light blazed
the atalayas, or watch-towers of the mountains.

" Forward ! forward ! " cried the renegado, with many
an oath, " to the bridge, — to the bridge, before the alarm
has reached there ! "

They doubled the promontory of the mountains, and
arrived in sight of the famous Puente del Pinos, that
crosses a rushing stream, often dyed with Christian and
Moslem blood. To their confusion, the tower on the
bridge blazed with lights and glittered with armed men.
The renegade pulled up his steed, rose in his stirrups, and
looked about him for a moment ; then beckoning to the
cavaliers, he struck off from the road, skirted the river for
some distance, and dashed into its waters. The cavaliers
called upon the princesses to cling to them, and did the
same. They were borne for some distance down the rapid
current, the surges roared round them, but the beautiful prin-
cesses clung to their Christian knights, and never uttered a
complaint. The cavaliers attained the opposite bank in
safety, and were conducted by the renegado, by rude and
unfrequented paths, and wild barrancos, through the heart
of the mountains, so as to avoid all the regular passes. In
a word, they succeeded in reaching the ancient city of
Cordova ; where their restoration to their country and
friends was celebrated with great rejoicings, for they were
of the noblest families. The beautiful princesses were
forthwith received into the bosom of the church, and, after

LEGEND OF THE THREE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES. 11Q

being in all due form made regular Christians, were rendered
happy wives.

In our hurry to make good the escape of the princesses
across the river, and up the mountains, we forgot to
mention the fate of the discreet Kadiga. She had clung
like a cat to Hussein Baba in the scamper across the Vega,
screaming at every bound, and drawing many an oath from
the whiskered renegade ; but when he prepared to plunge
his steed into the river, her terror knew no bounds.
" Grasp me not so tightly," cried Hussein Baba j hold on
by my belt and fear nothing." She held firmly with both
hands by the leathern belt that girded the broad-backed
renegado ; but when he halted with the cavaliers to take
breath on the mountain summit, the duenna was no longer
to be seen.

" What has become of Kadiga ? " cried the princesses
in alarm.

" Allah alone knows ! " replied the renegado j C( my belt
came loose when in the midst of the river, and Kadiga
was swept with it down the stream. The will of Allah be
done ! but it was an embroidered belt, and of great price."

There was no time to waste in idle regrets ; yet bitterly
did the princesses bewail the loss of their discreet counsel-
lor. That excellent old woman, however, did not lose
more than half of her nine lives in the stream: a fisherman,
who was drawing his nets some distance down the stream,
brought her to land, and was not a little astonished at his
miraculous draught. What further became of the discreet
Kadiga, the legend does not mention ; certain it is that she
evinced her discretion in never venturing within the reach
of Mohamed the left-handed.

Almost as little is known of the conduct of that sagacious
monarch when he discovered the escape of his daughters,
and the deceit practised upon him by the most faithful of
servants. It was the only instance in which he had called
in the aid of counsel, and he was never afterwards
known to be guilty of a similar weakness. He took good
care, however, to guard his remaining daughter, who had
no disposition to elope: it is thought, indeed, that she
i 4

120 THE ALHAMBRA.

secretly repented having remained behind : now and then
she was seen leaning on the battlements of the tower, and
looking mournfully towards the mountains in the direction
of Cordova, and sometimes the notes of her lute were heard
accompanying plaintive ditties, in which she was said to
lament the loss of her sisters and her lover, and to bewail
her solitary life. She died young, and, according to popu-
lar rumour, was buried in a vault beneath the tower, and
her untimely fate has given rise to more than one tradition-
ary fable.

END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.

121

VOLUME THE SECOND.

VIS1TERS TO THE ALHAMBRA.

IT is now nearly three months since I took up my abode
in the Alhambra, during which time the progress of the
season has wrought many changes. When I first arrived,
every thing was in the freshness of May ; the foliage of the
trees was still tender and transparent; the pomegranate
had not yet shed its brilliant crimson blossoms; the orchards
of the Xenil and the Darro were in full bloom ; the rocks
were hung with wild flowers, and Granada seemed com-
pletely surrounded by a wilderness of roses,, among which
innumerable nightingales sang, not merely in the night,
but all day long.

The advance of summer has withered the rose and
silenced the nightingale, and the distant country begins to
look parched and sunburnt : though a perennial verdure
reigns immediately round the city, and in the deep narrow
valleys at the foot of the snow-capped mountains.

The Alhambra possesses retreats graduated to the heat
of the weather, among which the most peculiar is the
almost subterranean apartment of the baths. This still
retains its ancient oriental character, though stamped with
the touching traces of decline. At the entrance, opening
into a small court formerly adorned with flowers, is a hall,
moderate in size, but light and graceful in architecture. It
is overlooked by a small gallery supported by marble
pillars and moresco arches. An alabaster fountain in the
centre of the pavement still throws up a jet of water to
cool the place. On each side are deep alcoves with raised
platforms, where the bathers, after their ablutions, reclined
on cushions, soothed to voluptuous repose by the fragrance

122 THE ALHAMBRA.

of the perfumed air and the notes of soft music from the
gallery. Beyond this hall are the interior chambers, still
more private and retired, where no light is admitted but
through small apertures in the vaulted ceilings. Here was
the sanctum sanctorum of female privacy, where the beau-
ties of the harem indulged in the luxury of the baths. A
soft mysterious light reigns through the place, the broken
baths are still there, and traces of ancient elegance. The
prevailing silence and obscurity have made this a favourite
resort of bats, who nestle during the day in the dark nooks
and corners, and on being disturbed, flit mysteriously about
the twilight chambers, heightening, in an indescribable de-
gree, their air of desertion and decay.

In this cool and elegant, though dilapidated retreat,
which has the freshness and seclusion of a grotto, I have of
late passed the sultry hours of the day, emerging towards
sunset ; and bathing, or rather swimming, at night in the
great reservoir of the main court. In this way I have
been enabled in a measure to counteract the relaxing and
enervating influence of the climate.

My dream of absolute sovereignty, however, is at an end.
I was roused from it lately by the report of fire-arms ;
which reverberated among the towers as if the castle had
been taken by surprise. On sallying forth, I found an old
cavalier, with a number of domestics, in possession of the
hall of ambassadors. He was an ancient count, who had
come up from his palace in Granada to pass a short time in
the Alhambra for the benefit of purer air ; and who, being
a veteran and inveterate sportsman, was endeavouring to get
an appetite for his breakfast by shooting at swallows from
the balconies. It was a harmless amusement, for though,
by the alertness of his attendants in loading his pieces, he
was enabled to keep up a brisk fire, I could not accuse him
of the death of a single swallow. Nay, the birds them-
selves seemed to enjoy the sport, and to deride his want of
skill, skimming in circles close to the balconies, and twitter-
ing as they darted by.

The arrival of this old gentleman has in some manner
changed the aspect of affairs, but has likewise afforded
matter for agreeable speculation. We have tacitly shared

VISITERS TO THE ALHAMBRA. 123

the empire between us, like the last kings of Granada, ex-
cepting that we maintain a most amicable alliance. He
reigns absolute over the court of the Lions and its ad-
jacent halls, while I maintain peaceful possession of the
regions of the baths and the little garden of Lindaraja.
We take our meals together under the arcades of the
court, where the fountains cool the air, and bubbling rills
run along the channels of the marble pavement.

In the evening a domestic circle gathers about the worthy
old cavalier. The countess ccmes up from the city, with
a favourite daughter about sixteen years of age. Then
there are the official dependants of the count, his chaplain,
lawyer, his secretary, his steward, and other officers and
agents of his extensive possessions. Thus he holds a kind
of domestic court, where every person seeks to contribute
to his amusement without sacrificing his own pleasure or
self-respect. In fact, whatever may be said of Spanish
pride, it certainly does not enter into social or domestic
life. Among no people are the relations between kindred
more cordial, or between superior and dependant more
frank and genial ; in these respects there still remains, in
the provincial life of Spain, much of the vaunted simplicity
of the olden times.

The most interesting member of this family group, how-
ever, is the daughter of the count, the charming though
almost infantine little Carmen. Her form has not yet at-
tained its maturity, but has already the exquisite symmetry
and pliant grace so prevalent in this country. Her blue
eyes, fair complexion, and light hair, are unusual in
Andalusia, and give a mildness and gentleness to her de-
meanour, in contrast to the usual fire of Spanish beauty, but
in perfect unison with the guileless and confiding in-
nocence of her manners. She has, however, all the innate
aptness and versatility of her fascinating countrywomen,
and sings, dances, and plays the guitar and other instru-
ments, to admiration.

A few days after taking up his residence in the Al-
hambra, the count gave a domestic fete on his saint's day,
assembling round him the members of his family and
household, while several old servants came from his distant

124 THE ALHA.MBRA.

possessions to pay their reverence to him, and partake of
the good cheer. This patriarchal spirit,, which charac-
terised the Spanish nobility in the days of their opulence,
has declined with their fortunes ; but some who, like the
count, still retain their ancient family possessions, keep up
a little of the ancient system, and have their estates over-
run and almost eaten up by generations of idle retainers.
According to this magnificent old Spanish system, in which
the national pride and generosity bore equal parts, a super-
annuated servant was never turned off, but became a chargp
for the rest of his days ; nay, his children and his chil-
dren's children, and often their relatives, to the right and
left, became gradually entailed upon the family. Hence
the huge palaces of the Spanish nobility, which have such
an air of empty ostentation from the greatness of their
size compared with the mediocrity and scantiness of their
furniture, were absolutely required, in the golden days^of
Spain, by the patriarchal habits of their possessors. They
were little better than vast barracks for the hereditary ge-
nerations of hangers-on, that battened at the expense of a
Spanish noble. The worthy old count, who has estates in
various parts of the kingdom, assures me that some of
them barely feed the hordes of dependants nestled upon
them j who consider themselves entitled to be maintained
upon the place rent-free, because their forefathers have
been so for generations.

The domestic fete of the count broke in upon the usual
still life of the Alhambra ; music and laughter resounded
through its late silent halls ; there were groups of the
guests amusing themselves about the galleries and gardens,
and officious servants from town hurrying through the
courts, bearing viands to the ancient kitchen, which was
again alive with the tread of cooks and scullions, and
blazed with unwonted fires.

The feast, for a Spanish set dinner is literally a feast,
was laid in the beautiful Moresco hall called "La Sala de
las dos Hermanas," (the saloon of the two sisters,) the
table groaned with abundance, and a joyous conviviality
prevailed round the board ; for though the Spaniards are
generally an abstemious people, they are complete revellers

VISITERS TO THE ALHAMBRA. 125

at a banquet. For my own part, there was something pe-
culiarly interesting in thus sitting at a feast in the royal
halls of the Alhambra, given by the representative of one
of its most renowned conquerors ; for the venerable count,
though un warlike himself, is the lineal descendant and
representative of the " Great Captain," the illustrious
Gonsalvo of Cordova, whose sword he guards in the
archives of his palace at Granada.

The banquet ended, the company adjourned to the hall
of ambassadors. Here every one contributed to the
general amusement by exerting some peculiar talent ;
singing, improvising, telling wonderful tales, or dancing to
that all-pervading talisman of Spanish pleasure, the
guitar.

The life and charm of the whole assemblage, however,
was the gifted little Carmen. She took her part in two
or three scenes from Spanish comedies, exhibiting a
charming dramatic talent ; she gave imitations of the
popular Italian singers with singular and whimsical felicity,
and a rare quality of voice ; she imitated the dialects,
dances, and ballads of the gipsies and the neighbouring
peasantry, but did every thing with a facility, a neatness,
a grace, and an all-pervading prettiness, that were perfectly
fascinating.

The great charm of her performances, however, was
their being free from all pretension, or ambition of display.
She seemed unconscious of the extent of her own talents,
and, in fact, is accustomed only to exert them casually, like
a child, for the amusement of the domestic circle. Her
observation and tact must be remarkably quick, for her
life is passed in the bosom of her family, and she can only
have had casual and transient glances at the various cha-
racters and traits brought out impromptu in moments of
domestic hilarity like the one in question. It is pleasing to
see the fondness and admiration with which every one of
the household regards her : she is never spoken of, even by
the domestics, by any other appellation than that of La
Nina, " the child," an appellation which, thus applied, has
something peculiarly kind and endearing in the Spanish
language.

126 THE ALHAMBRA.

Never shall I think of the Alhambra without remember-
ing the lovely little Carmen sporting in happy and in-
nocent girlhood in its marble halls, dancing to the sound
of the Moorish castanets, or mingling the silver warbling
of her voice with the music of the fountains.

On this festive occasion several curious and amusing
legends and traditions were told ; many of which have
escaped my memory ; but out of those that most struck
me, I will endeavour to shape forth some entertainment
for the reader.

LEGEND OF PRINCE AHMED AL KAMEL ;
OR, THE PILGRIM OF LOVE.

THERE was once a Moorish king of Granada, who had but
one son, whom he named Ahmed, to which his courtiers
added the surname of Al Kamel, or the perfect, from the
indubitable signs of super-excellence which they perceived
in him in his very infancy. The astrologers countenanced
them in their foresight, predicting every thing in his favour
that could make a perfect prince and a prosperous sovereign.
One cloud only rested upon his destiny, and even that was
of a roseate hue ; he would be of an amorous temperament,
and run great perils from the tender passion. If, however,
he could be kept from the allurements of love until of
mature age, these dangers would be averted, and his life
thereafter be one uninterrupted course of felicity.

To prevent all danger of the kind, the king wisely de-
termined to rear the prince in a seclusion where he should
never see a female face, nor hear even the name of love.
For this purpose he built a beautiful palace on the brow of
the hill above the Alhambra, in the midst of delightful
gardens, but surrounded by lofty walls, being, in fact, the
same palace known at the present day by the name of the
Generalife. In this palace the youthful prince was shut

LEGEND OP PRINCE AHMED AL KAMEL. 12?

up, and entrusted to the guardianship and instruction of
Eben Bonabben, one of the wisest and dryest of Arabian
sages, who had passed the greatest part of his life in Egypt,
studying hieroglyphics, and making researches among the
tombs and pyramids, and who saw more charms in an
Egyptian mummy, than in the most tempting of living
beauties. The sage was ordered to instruct the prince in
all kinds of knowledge but one — he was to be kept utterly
ignorant of love. " Use every precaution for the purpose
you may think proper," said the king, fc but remember,
O Eben Bonabben, if my son learns aught of that for-
bidden knowledge while under your care, your head shall
answer for it." A withered smile came over the dry visage
of the wise Bonabben at the menace. <: Let your majesty's
heart be as easy about your son, as mine is about my head :
am I a man likely to give lessons in the idle passion ? "
' Under the vigilant - care of the philosopher, the prince
grew up, in the seclusion of the palace and its gardens.
He had black slaves to attend upon him, — hideous mutes,
who knew nothing of love, or if they did, had not words
to communicate it. His mental endowments were the pe-
culiar care of Eben Bonabben, who sought to initiate him
into the abstruse lore of Egypt, but in this the prince made
little progress, and it was soon evident that he had no turn
for philosophy.

He was, however, amazingly ductile for a youthful
prince, ready to follow any advice, and always guided by
the last counsellor. He suppressed his yawns, and listened
patiently to the long and learned discourses of Eben Bo-
nabben, from which he imbibed a smattering of various
kinds of knowledge, and thus happily attained his twentieth
year, a miracle of princely wisdom — but totally ignorant
of love.

About this time, however, a change came over the con-
duct of the prince. He completely abandoned his studies,
and took to strolling about the gardens, and musing by the
side of the fountains. He had been taught a little music
among his various accomplishments ; it now engrossed a
great part of his time, and a turn for poetry became appa-
rent. The sage Eben Bonabben took the alarm, and en-

128 THE ALHAMBRA.

deavoured to work these idle humours out of him by a
severe course of algebra — but the prince turned from it
with distaste. <c I cannot endure algebra," said he ; " it
is an abomination to me. I want something that speaks
more to the heart."

The sage Eben Bonabben shook his dry head at the
words. " Here is an end to philosophy/' thought he.
' ' The prince has discovered he has a heart ! " He now
kept anxious watch upon his pupil, and saw that the latent
tenderness of his nature was in activity, and only wanted
an object. He wandered about the gardens of the Gener-
alife in an intoxication of feelings of which he knew not
the cause. Sometimes he would sit plunged in a delicious
reverie ; then he would seize his lute and draw from it the
most touching notes ; and then throw it aside, and break
forth into sighs and ejaculations.

By degrees this loving disposition began to extend to
inanimate objects ; he had his favourite flowers, which he
cherished with tender assiduity j then he became attached
to various trees, and there was one in particular of a grace-
ful form and drooping foliage, on which he lavished his
amorous devotion, carving his name on its bark, hanging
garlands on its branches, and singing couplets in its praise,
to the accompaniment of his lute.

Eben Bonabben was alarmed at this excited state of his
pupil. He saw him on the very brink of forbidden know-
ledge — the least hint might reveal to him the fatal secret.
Trembling for the safety of the prince and the security of
his own head, he hastened to draw him from the seductions
of the garden, and shut him up in the highest tower of the
Generalife. It contained beautiful apartments, and com-
manded an almost boundless prospect, but was elevated far
above that atmosphere of sweets and those witching bowers
so dangerous to the feelings of the too susceptible Ahmed.

What was to be done, however, to reconcile him to this
restraint, and to beguile the tedious hours ? He had ex-
hausted almost all kinds of agreeable knowledge ; and
algebra was not to be mentioned. Fortunately Eben Bo-
nabben had been instructed, when in Egypt, in the lan-
guage of birds, by a Jewish Rabbin, who had received it

LEGEND OF PRINCE AHMED AL KAMEL. 129

in lineal transmission from Solomon the wise, who had
been taught it by the Queen of Sheba. At the very men-
tion of such a study, the eyes of the prince sparkled with
animation, and he applied himself to it with such avidity,
that he soon became as great an adept as his master.

The tower of the Generalife was no longer a solitude ;
he had companions at hand with whom he could converse.
The first acquaintance he formed was with a hawk, who
built his nest in a crevice of the lofty battlements, from
whence he soared far and wide in quest of prey. The
prince, however, found little to like or esteem in him. He
was a mere pirate of the air, swaggering and boastful,
whose talk was all about rapine, and carnage, and desperate
exploits.

His next acquaintance was an owl, a mighty wise-look-
ing bird, with a huge head and staring eyes, who sat blink-
ing and goggling all day in a hole in the wall, but roamed
forth at night. He had great pretensions to wisdom, talked
something of astrology and the moon, and hinted at the
dark sciences ; but he was grievously given to metaphysics,
and the prince found his prosings even more ponderous
than those of the sage Eben Bonabben.

Then there was a bat, that hung all day by his heels in
the dark corner of a vault, but sallied out in a slip-shod
style at twilight. He, however, had but twilight ideas on
all subjects, derided things of which he had taken but an
imperfect view, and seemed to take delight in nothing.

Besides these there was a swallow, with whom the
prince was at first much taken. He was a smart talker,
but restless, bustling, and for ever on the wing ; seldom
remaining long enough for any continued conversation. He
turned out in the end to be a mere smatterer, who did but
skim over the surface of things, pretending to know every
thing, but knowing nothing thoroughly.

These were the only feathered associates with whom the
prince had any opportunity of exercising his newly-ac-
quired language ; the tower was too high for any other
birds to frequent it. He soon grew weary of his new ac-
quaintances, whose conversation spoke so little to the head,
and nothing to the heart ; and gradually relapsed into his

130 THE ALHAMBRA.

loneliness. A winter passed away, spring opened with all
its bloom and verdure, and breathing sweetness, and the
happy time arrived for birds to pair and build their nests.
Suddenly, as it were, a universal burst of song and melody
broke forth from the groves and gardens of the Generalife,
and reached the prince in the solitude of his tower. From
every side he heard the same universal theme — love —
love — love — chanted forth and responded to in every
variety of note and tone. The prince listened in silence
and perplexity. " What can be this love," thought he,
ff of which the world seems so full, and of which I know
nothing ? " He applied for information to his friend the
hawk. The ruffian bird answered in a tone of scorn :
" You must apply," said he, " to the vulgar peaceable
birds of earth who are made for the prey of us princes of
the air. My trade is war, and fighting my delight. I am
a warrior, and know nothing of this thing called love."

The prince turned from him with disgust, and sought
the owl in his retreat. " This is a bird," said he, " of
peaceful habits, and may be able to solve my question."
So he asked the owl to tell him what was this love about
which all the birds in the groves below were singing.

Upon this, the owl put on a look of offended dignity.
" My nights," said he, <c are taken up in study and re-
search, and my days in ruminating in my cell upon all
that I have learnt. As to these singing birds of whom
you talk, 1 never listen to them — I despise them and
their themes. Allah be praised, I cannot sing ; I am a
philosopher, and know nothing of this thing called love."

The prince now repaired to the vault, where his friend
the bat was hanging by the heels, and propounded the
same question. The bat wrinkled up his nose into a most
snappish expression. " Why do you disturb me in my
morning's nap with such an idle question ? " said he pee-
vishly. " I only fly by twilight, when all birds are asleep,
and never trouble myself with their concerns. I am neither
bird nor beast, and I thank Heaven for it. I have found
out the villany of the whole of them, and hate them one
and all. In a word, I am a misanthrope — and know
nothing of this thing called love."

LEGEND OF PRINCE AHMED AL KAMEL. 131

As a last resort, the prince now sought the swallow,
and stopped him just as he was circling about the summit
of the tower. The swallow, as usual, was in a prodigious
hurry, and had scarce time to make a reply. (e Upon my
word," said he, " I have so much public business to at-
tend to, and so many pursuits to follow, that I have had
no time to think on the subject. I have every day a
thousand visits to pay, a thousand affairs of importance
to examine into, that leave me not a moment of leisure for
these little sing-song matters. In a word, I am a citizen
of the world — I know nothing of this thing called love."
So saying, the swallow dived into the valley, and was out
of sight in a moment.

The prince remained disappointed and perplexed, but
with his curiosity still more piqued by the difficulty of
gratifying it. While in this mood, his ancient guardian
entered the tower. The prince advanced eagerly to meet
him. " O Eben Bonabben," cried he, " thou hast revealed
to me much of the wisdom of the earth ; but there is one
thing of which I remain in utter ignorance, and would
fain be informed."

" My prince has but to make the inquiry, and every
thing within the limited range of his servant's intellect is
at his command."

" Tell me then, O most profound of sages, what is the
nature of this thing called love ? "

Eben Bonabben was struck as with a thunderbolt. He
trembled and turned pale, and felt as if his head sat but
loosely on his shoulders.

" What could suggest such a question to my prince —
where could he have learnt so idle a word ? "

The prince led him to the window of the tower.
" Listen, O Eben Bonabben," said he. The sage listened.
The nightingale sat in a thicket below the tower, singing
to his paramour the rose ; from every blossomed spray and
tufted grove arose a strain of melody ; and love — love —
love — was still the unvarying strain.

" Allah Akbar ! God is great ! '"' exclaimed the wise
Bonabben. " Who shall pretend to keep this secret from
K 2

132 THE ALHAMBRA.

the heart of man, when even the birds of the air conspire
to betray it ? "

Then turning to Ahmed — " O my prince/' cried he,
e< shut thine ears to these seductive strains. Close thy
mind against this dangerous knowledge. Know that this
love is the cause of half the ills of wretched mortality. It
is this which produces bitterness and strife between bre-
thren and friends ; which causes treacherous murder and
desolating war. Care and sorrow, weary days and sleep-
less nights, are its attendants. It withers the bloom and
blights the joys of youth, and brings on the ills and griefs
of premature old age. Allah preserve thee, my prince, in
total ignorance of this thing called love ! "

The sage Eben Bonabben hastily retired, leaving the
prince plunged in still deeper perplexity. It was in vain
he attempted to dismiss the subject from his mind ; it still
continued uppermost in his thoughts, and teased and ex-
hausted him with vain conjectures. Surely, said he to
himself, as he listened to the tuneful strains of the birds,
there is no sorrow in those notes ; every thing seems ten-
derness and joy. If love be a cause of such wretchedness
and strife, why are not these birds drooping in solitude, or
tearing each other in pieces, instead of fluttering cheer-
fully about the groves, or sporting with each other among
flowers ?

He lay one morning on his couch meditating on this in-
explicable matter. The window of his chamber was open,
to admit the soft morning breeze which came laden with
the perfume of orange blossoms from the valley of the
Darro. The voice of the nightingale was faintly heard,
still chanting the wonted theme. As the prince was lis-
tening and sighing, there was a sudden rushing noise in
the air ; a beautiful dove pursued by a hawk, darted in at
the window, and fell panting on the floor ; while the pur-
suer, balked of his prey, soared off to the mountains.

The prince took up the gasping bird, smoothed its
feathers, and nestled it in his bosom. When he had
soothed it by his caresses, he put it in a golden cage, and
offered it, with his own hands, the whitest and finest of
wheat and the purest of water. The bird, however, re-

LEGEND OF PRINCE AHMED AL KAMKL. 133

fused food} and sat drooping and pining, and uttering
piteous moans.

" What aileth thee ? " said Ahmed. " Hast thou not
every thing thy heart can wish ? "

" Alas, no ! " replied the dove ; " am I not separated
from the partner of my heart, and that, too, in the happy
spring-time, the very season of love !"

" Of love ! " echoed Ahmed ; " I pray thee, my pretty
bird, canst thou then tell me what is love ? "

" Too well can I, my prince. It is the torment of one,
the felicity of two, the strife and enmity of three. It is a
charm which draws two beings together, and unites them
by delicious sympathies, making it happiness to be with
each other, but misery to be apart. Is there no being to
whom you are drawn by these ties of tender affection ? "

" I like my old teacher Eben Bonabben better than any
other being ; but he is often tedious, and I occasionally
feel myself happier without his society."

" That is not the sympathy I mean. I speak of love,
the great mystery and principle of life : the intoxicating
revel of youth ; the sober delight of age. Look forth, my
prince, and behold how at this blest season all nature is
full of love. Every created being has its mate ; the most
insignificant bird sings to its paramour ; the very beetle
woos its lady-beetle in the dust, and yon butterflies, which
you see fluttering high above the tower and toying in the
air, are happy in each other's loves. Alas, my prince !
hast thou spent so many of the precious days of youth
without knowing any thing of love ? Is there ho gentle
being of another sex — no beautiful princess or lovely
damsel, who has ensnared your heart, and filled your bosom
with a soft tumult of pleasing pains and tender wishes ? "

" I begin to understand," said the prince, sighing ;
" such a tumult I have more than once experienced, with-
out knowing the cause ; — and where should I seek for
an object, such as you describe, in this dismal solitude ? "

A little further conversation ensued, and the first ama-
tory lesson of the prince was complete.

" Alas ! " said he, " if love be indeed such a delight,
and its interruption such a misery, Allah forbid that I
K 3

134 THE ALHAMBRA.

should mar the joy of any of its votaries." He opened the
cage, took out the dove, and having fondly kissed it, car-
ried it to the window. " Go, happy bird," said he, " re-
joice with the partner of thy heart in the days of youth
and spring-time. Why should I make thee a fellow-
prisoner in this dreary tower, where love can never
enter ? "

The dove flapped its wings in rapture, gave one vault
into the air, and then swooped downward on whistling
wings to the blooming bowers of the Darro.

The prince followed him with his eyes, and then gave
way to bitter repining. The singing of the birds, which
once delighted him, now added to his bitterness. Love !
love ! love ! Alas, poor youth ! he now understood the
strain.

His eyes flashed fire when next he beheld the sage Bo-
nabben. " Why hast thou kept me in this abject igno-
rance ? " cried he. ' f Why has the great mystery and
principle of life been withheld from me, in which I find
the meanest insect is so learned ? Behold all nature is in
a revel of delight. Every created being rejoices with its
mate. This — this is the love about which I have sought
instruction. Why am I alone debarred its enjoyment?
Why has so much of my youth been wasted without a
knowledge of its raptures ? "

The sage Bonabben saw that all further reserve was
useless; for the prince had acquired the dangerous and
forbidden knowledge. He revealed to him, therefore, the
predictions of the astrologers, and the precautions that had
been taken in his education to avert the threatened evils.
" And now, my prince," added he, " my life is in your
hands. Let the king your father discover that you have
learned the passion of love while under my guardianship,
and my head must answer for it."

The prince was as reasonable as most young men of
his age, and easily listened to the remonstrances of ^his
tutor, since nothing pleaded against them. Besides, he
really was attached to Eben Bonabben, and being as yet
but theoretically acquainted with the passion of love, he

LEGEND OP PRINCE AHMED AL KAMEL. 135

consented to confine the knowledge of it to his own bosom,
rather than endanger the head of the philosopher.

His discretion was doomed, however, to be put to still
further proofs. A few mornings afterwards, as he was
ruminating on the battlements of the tower, the dove which
had been released by him came hovering in the air, and
alighted fearlessly upon his shoulder.

The prince fondled it to his heart. " Happy bird,"
said he, " who can fly, as it were, with the wings of the
morning to the uttermost parts of the earth. Where hast
thou been since we parted ? "

" In a far country, my prince, from whence I bring
you tidings in reward for my liberty. In the wild com-
pass of my flight, which extends over plain and mountain,
as I was soaring in the air, I beheld below me a delightful
garden, with all kinds of fruits and flowers. It was in a
green meadow, on the banks of a wandering stream ; and
in the centre of the garden was a stately palace. I alighted
in one of the bowers to repose after my weary flight. On
the green bank below me was a youthful princess, in the
very sweetness and bloom of her years. She was sur-
rounded by female attendants, young like herself, who
decked her with garlands and coronets of flowers ; but no
flower of field or garden could compare with her for love-
liness. Hore, however, she bloomed in secret, for the
garden was surrounded by high walls, and no mortal man
was permitted to enter. When I beheld this beauteous
maid, thus young and innocent, and unspotted by the
world, I thought, here is the being formed by Heaven to
inspire my prince with love."

The description was a spark of fire to the combustible
heart of Ahmed ; all the latent amorousness of his tem-
perament had at once found an object, and he conceived
an immeasurable passion for the princess. He wrote a
letter, couched in the most impassioned language, breathing
his fervent devotion, but bewailing the unhappy thraldom
of his person, which prevented him from seeking her out
and throwing himself at her feet. He added couplets of
the most tender and moving eloquence, for he was a poet
K 4

136 THE ALHAMBRA.

by nature and inspired by love. He addressed his letter
" To the unknown beauty, from the captive Prince
Ahmed ; " then perfuming it with musk and roses, he gave
it to the dove.

" Away, trustiest of messengers ! " said he. " Fly over
mountain and valley and river and plain ; rest not in
bower, nor set foot on earth, until thou hast given this
letter to the mistress of my heart."

The dove soared high in air, and taking his course,
darted away in one undeviating direction. The prince
followed him with his eye until he was a mere speck on a
cloud, and gradually disappeared behind a mountain.

Day after day he watched for the return of the messen-
ger of love, but he watched in vain. He began to accuse
him of forgetfulness, when towards sunset one evening the
faithful bird fluttered into his apartment, and falling at his
feet, expired. The arrow of some wanton archer had
pierced his breast, yet he had struggled with the lingerings
of life to execute his mission. As the prince bent with
grief over this gentle martyr to fidelity, he beheld a chain
of pearls round his neck, attached to which, beneath his
wing, was a small enamelled picture. It represented a
lovely princess in the very flower of her years. It was
doubtless the unknown beauty of the garden ; but who and
where was she — how had she received his letter, and was
this picture sent as a token of her approval of his passion ?
Unfortunately the death of the faithful dove left every
thing in mystery and doubt.

The prince gazed on the picture till his eyes swam with
tears. He pressed it to his lips and to his heart ; he sat
for hours contemplating it almost in an agony of tenderness.
' f Beautiful image ! " said he, " alas, thou art but an
image ! Yet thy dewy eyes beam tenderly upon me ;
those rosy lips look as though they would speak encourage-
ment : vain fancies ! Have they not looked the same on
some more happy rival ? But where in this wide world
shall I hope to find the original ? Who knows what
mountains, what realms may separate us — what adverse
chances may intervene ? Perhaps, now, even now, lovers
may be crowding around her, while I sit here a prisoner

LEGEND OF PRINCE AHMED AL KAMEL. 13?

in a tower, wasting my time in adoration of a painted
shadow."

The resolution of Prince Ahmed was taken. " I will
fly from this palace," said he, " which has become an
odious prison, and, a pilgrim of love, will seek this un-
known princess throughout the world." To escape from
the tower in the day, when every one was awake, might
be a difficult matter ; but at night the palace was slightly
guarded ; for no one apprehended any attempt of the kind
from the prince, who had always been so passive in his
captivity. How was he to guide himself, however, in his
darkling flight, being ignorant of the country ? He be-
thought him of the owl, who was accustomed to roam at
night, and must know every bye lane and secret pass.
Seeking him in his hermitage, he questioned him touching
his knowledge of the land. Upon this the owl put on a
mighty self-important look. " You must know, O prince,"
said he, " that we owls are of a very ancient and extensive
family, though rather fallen to decay, and possess ruinous
castles and palaces in all parts of Spain. There is scarcely
a tower of the mountains, or a fortress of the plains, or an
old citadel of a city, but has some brother, or uncle, or
cousin quartered in it; and in going the rounds to visit
this my numerous kindred, I have pryed into every nook
and corner, and made myself acquainted with every secret
of the land." The prince was overjoyed to find the owl
so deeply versed in topography, and now informed him, in
confidence, of his tender passion and his intended elope-
ment, urging him to be his companion and counsellor.

<f Go to ! " said the owl with a look of displeasure,
" am I a bird to engage in a love affair ? I, whose whole
time is devoted to meditation and the moon ? "

" Be not offended, most solemn owl," replied the prince;
" abstract thyself for a time from meditation and the moon,
and aid me in my flight, and thou shalt have whatever
heart can wish."

' ( I have that already," said the owl : te a few mice are
sufficient for my frugal table, and this hole in the wall is
spacious enough for my studies ; and what more does a
philosopher like myself desire ? "

138 THE ALIIAMBBA.

<( Bethink thee, most wise owl, that while moping in thy
cell and gazing at the moon, all thy talents are lost to the
world. I shall one day be a sovereign prince, and may
advance thee to some post of honour and dignity."

The owl, though a philosopher and above the ordinary
wants of life, was not above ambition ; so he was finally
prevailed on to elope with the prince, and be his guide and
mentor in his pilgrimage.

The plans of a lover are promptly executed. The prince
collected all his jewels, and concealed them about his per-
son as travelling funds. That very night he lowered him-
self by his scarf from a balcony of the tower, clambered
over the outer walls of the Generalife, and, guided by the
owl, made good his escape before morning to the moun-
tains.

He now held a council with his mentor as to his future
course.

1 ' Might I advise," said the owl, " I would recommend
you to repair to Seville. You must know, that many years
since I was on a visit to an uncle, an owl of great dignity
and power, who lived in a ruined wing of the alcazar of
that plac£. In my hoverings at night over the city I
frequently remarked a light burning in a lonely tower. At
length I alighted on the battlements, and found it to pro-
ceed from the lamp of an Arabian magician : he was
surrounded by his magic books, and on his shoulder was
perched his familiar, an ancient raven who had come with
him from Egypt. I am acquainted with that raven, and
owe to him a great part of the knowledge I possess. The
magician is since dead, but the raven still inhabits the
tower, for these birds are of wonderful long life. I would
advise you, O prince, to seek that raven, for he is a sooth-
sayer and a conjuror, and deals in the black art, for which
all ravens, and especially those of Egypt, are renowned."

The prince was struck with the wisdom of this advice,
and accordingly bent his course towards Seville. He tra-
velled only in the night, to accommodate his companion,
and lay by during the day in some dark cavern or mould-
ering watch-tower, for the owl knew every hiding hole of
the kind, and had a most antiquarian taste for ruins.

LEGEND OF PRINCE AH3IED AL KAHEL. 139

At length one morning at day-break they reached the
city of Seville, where the owl, who hated the glare and
bustle of crowded streets, halted without the gate and took
up his quarters in a hollow tree.

The prince entered the gate, and readily found the magic
tower, which rose above the houses of the city, as a palm
tree rises above the shrubs of the desert ; it was, in fact,
the same tower that is standing at the present day, and
known as the Giralda, the famous Moorish tower of
Seville.

The prince ascended by a great winding staircase to the
summit of the tower, where he found the cabalistic raven,
an old, mysterious, grey-headed bird, ragged in feather,
with a film over one eye that gave him the glare of a
spectre. He was perched on one leg, with his head turned
on one side, poring, with his remaining eye, on a diagram
described on the pavement.

The prince approached him with the awe and reverence
naturally inspired by his venerable appearance and super-
natural wisdom. " Pardon me, most ancient and darkly
wise raven," exclaimed he, " if for a moment I interrupt
those studies which are the wonder of the world. You
behold before you a votary of love, who would fain seek
your counsel how to obtain the object of his passion."

" In other words," said the raven with a significant
look, " you seek to try my skill in palmistry. Come,
show me your hand, and let me decypher the mysterious
lines of fortune."

" Excuse me," said the prince, " I come not to pry
into the decrees of fate, which are hidden by Allah from
the eyes of mortals : I am a pilgrim of love, and seek but
to find a clue to the object of my pilgrimage."

" And can you be at any loss for an object in amorous
Andalusia ? " said the old raven, leering upon him with
his single eye ; " above all, can you be at a loss in wanton
Seville, where black-eyed damsels dance the zambra under
every orange grove ? "

The prince blushed, and was somewhat shocked at
hearing an old bird, with one foot in the grave, talk thus
loosely. " Believe me," said he gravely, ' ' I am on none

140

THE ALHAMBRA.

such light and vagrant errand as thou dost insinuate. The
black-eyed damsels of Andalusia who dance among the
orange groves of the Guadalquiver are as nought to me. I
seek one unknown but immaculate beauty, the original of
this picture ; and I beseech thee, most potent raven, if it
be within the scope of thy knowledge or the reach of thy
art, inform me where she may be found."

The grey-headed raven was rebuked by the gravity of
the prince.

" What know I," replied he drily, " of youth and
beauty ? my visits are to the old and withered, not the
fresh and fair : the harbinger of fate am I ; who croak
bodings of death from the chimney top, and flap my wings
at the sick man's window. You must seek elsewhere for
tidings of your unknown beauty."

" And where can I seek, if not among the sons of wis-
dom, versed in the book of destiny ? Know that I am a
royal prince, fated by the stars, and sent on a mysterious
enterprise, on which may hang the destiny of empires."

When the raven heard that it was a matter of vast mo-
ment, in which the stars took interest, he changed his tone
and manner, and listened with profound attention to the
story of the prince. When it was concluded, he replied,
" Touching this princess, I can give thee no information
of myself, for my flight is not among gardens, or around
ladies' bowers; but hie thee to Cordova, seek the palm tree
of the great Abderahman, which stands in the court of the
principal mosque: at the foot of it thou wilt find a great
traveller, who has visited all countries and courts, and been
a favourite with queens and princesses. He will give thee
tidings of the object of thy search."

" Many thanks for this precious information," said the
prince. " Farewell, most venerable conjuror."

" Farewell, pilgrim of love," said the raven drily, and
again fell pondering on the diagram.

The prince sallied forth from Seville, sought his fellow-
traveller the owl, who was still dozing in the hollow tree,
and set off for Cordova.

He approached it along hanging gardens, and orange

LEGEND OF PRINCE AHMED AL KAMEL. 141

and citron groves, overlooking the fair valley of the Gua-
dalquiver. When arrived at its gates the owl flew up to
a dark hole in the wall, and the prince proceeded in quest
of the palm tree planted in days of yore by the Great
Abderahman. It stood in the midst of the great court of
the mosque, towering from amidst orange and cypress
trees. Dervises and faquirs were seated in groups under
the cloisters of the court, and many of the faithful were
performing their ablutions at the fountains before entering
the mosque.

At the foot of the palm tree was a crowd listening to
the words of one who appeared to be talking with great
- volubility. " This," said the prince to himself, " must
be the great traveller who is to give me tidings of the
unknown princess." He mingled in the crowd, but was
astonished to perceive that they were all listening to a
parrot, who with his bright green coat, pragmatical eye,
and consequential top-knot, had the air of a bird on excel-
lent terms with himself.

' f How is this," said the prince to one of the bystanders,
" that so many grave persons can be delighted with the
garrulity of a chattering bird ? "

" You know not whom you speak of," said the other ;
" this parrot is a descendant of the famous parrot of
Persia, renowned for his story-telling talent. He has all
the learning of the East at the tip of his tongue, and can
quote poetry as fast as he can talk. He has visited various
foreign courts, and where he has been considered an oracle
of erudition. He has been a universal favourite also with
the fair sex, who have a vast admiration for erudite parrots
that can quote poetry."

" Enough," said the prince ; " I will have some private
talk with this distinguished traveller."

He sought a private interview, and expounded the
nature of his errand. He had scarcely mentioned it when
the parrot burst into a fit of dry rickety laughter that ab-
solutely brought tears in his eyes. " Excuse my merri-
ment," said he, " but the mere mention of love always
sets me laughing."

142 THE ALHAMBRA.

The prince was shocked at this ill-timed mirth. ec Is
not love," said he, " the great mystery of nature, the
secret principle of life, the universal bond of sympathy ? "

" A fig's end ! " cried the parrot, interrupting him ;
" pr'ythee where hast thou learnt this sentimental jargon ?
trust me, love is quite out of vogue ; one never hears of it
in the company of wits and people of refinement."

The prince sighed as he recalled the different language
of his friend the dove. But this parrot, thought he, has
lived about the court, he affects the wit and the fine gen-
tleman, he knows nothing of the thing called love. Un-
willing to provoke any more ridicule of the sentiment which
filled his heart, he now directed his inquiries to the
immediate purport of his visit.

(C Tell me," said he, " most accomplished parrot, thou
who hast every where been admitted to the secret bowers
of beauty, hast thou in the course of thy travels met with
the original of this portrait ? "

The parrot took the picture in his claw, turned his head
from side to side, and exammed it curiously with either
eye. " Upon my honour," said he, " a very pretty face ;
very pretty ; but then one sees so many pretty women in
one's travels that one can hardly — but hold — bless me !
now I look at it again — sure enough this is the Princess
Aldegonda : how could I forget one that is so prodigious
a favourite with me ? "

" The Princess Aldegonda ! " echoed the prince, ef and
where is she to be found ? "

" Softly, softly," said the parrot, " easier to be found
than gained. She is the only daughter of the Christian
king who reigns at Toledo, and is shut up from the world
until her seventeenth birth-day, on account of some pre-
diction of those meddlesome fellows the astrologers. You'll
not get a sight of her — no mortal man can see her. I
was admitted to her presence to entertain her, and I assure
you, on the word of a parrot who has seen the world, I
have conversed with much sillier princesses in my time."

" A word in confidence, my dear parrot," said the
prince ; " I am heir to a kingdom, and shall one day sit
upon a throne. I see that you are a bird of parts, and

LEGEND OP PRINCE AHMED AL KAMEL. 143

understand the world. Help me to gain possession of this
princess, and I will advance you to some distinguished
place about court."

" With all my heart/' said the parrot ; " hut let it he
a sinecure if possible,, for we wits have a great dislike .to
labour."

Arrangements were promptly made ; the prince sallied
forth from Cordova through the same gate by which he
had entered; called the owl down from the hole in the
wall, introduced him to his new travelling companion as a
brother savant, and away they set off on their journey.

They travelled much more slowly than accorded with
the impatience of the prince, but the parrot was accustomed
to high life, and did not like to be disturbed early in the
morning. The owl on the other hand was for sleeping at
mid-day, and lost a great deal of time by his long siestas.
His antiquarian taste also was in the way ; for he insisted
on pausing and inspecting every ruin, and had long legen-
dary tales to tell about every old tower and castle in the
country. The prince had supposed that he and the parrot,
being both birds of learning, would delight in each other's
society, but never had he been more mistaken. They
were eternally bickering. The one was a wit, the other a
philosopher. The parrot quoted poetry, was critical on
new readings, and eloquent on small points of erudition ;
the owl treated all such knowledge as trifling, and relished
nothing but metaphysics. Then the parrot would sing
songs and repeat bon-mots, and crack jokes upon his solemn
neighbour, and laugh outrageously at his own wit; all
which proceedings the owl considered as a grievous inva-
sion of his dignity, and would scowl, and sulk, and swell,
and be silent for a whole day together.

The prince heeded not the wranglings of his companions,
being wrapped up in the dreams of his own fancy and the
contemplation of the portrait of the beautiful princess. In
this way they journeyed through the stern passes of the
Sierra Morena, across the sunburnt plains of La Mancha
and Castile, and along the banks of the " Golden Tagus,"
which winds its wizard mazes over one half of Spain and
Portugal. At length they came in sight of a strong city

THE ALHAMBRA.

with walls and towers built on a rocky promontory, round
the foot of which the Tagus circled with brawling violence.
" Behold/' exclaimed the owl, " the ancient and re-
nowned city of Toledo ; a city famous for its antiquities.
Behold those venerable domes and towers, hoary with time
and clothed with legendary grandeur, in which so many of
my ancestors have meditated."

" Pish !" cried the parrot, interrupting his solemn anti-
quarian rapture, " what have we to do with antiquities,
and legends, and your ancestry ? Behold what is more to
the purpose — behold the abode of youth and beauty —
behold at length, O prince, the abode of your long-sought
princess."

The prince looked in the direction indicated by the
parrot, and beheld, in a delightful green meadow on the
banks of the Tagus, a stately palace rising from amidst the
bowers of a delicious garden. It was just such a place as
had been described by the dove as the residence of the
original of the picture. He gazed at it with a throbbing
heart. " Perhaps at this moment," thought he, " the
beautiful princess is sporting beneath those shady bowers,
or pacing with delicate step those stately terraces, or repos-
ing beneath those lofty roofs ! '' As he looked more nar-
rowly he perceived that the walls of the garden were of
great height, so as to defy access, while numbers of armed
guards patrolled around them.

The prince turned to the parrot. ie O most accomplished
of birds," said he, " thou hast the gift of human speech.
Hie thee to yon garden ; seek the idol of my soul, and tell
her that prince Ahmed, a pilgrim of love, and guided by
the stars, has arrived in quest of her on the flowery banks
of the Tagus."

The parrot, proud of his embassy, flew away to the
garden, mounted above its lofty walls, and after soaring for
a time over the lawns and groves, alighted on the balcony
of a pavilion that overhung the river. Here, looking in at
the casement, he beheld the princess reclining on a couch,
with her eyes fixed on a paper, while tears gently stole
after each other down her pallid cheek.

Pluming his wings for a moment, adjusting his bright

LEGEND OF PRINCE AHMED AL KAMEL. 145

green coat, and elevating his top-knot, the parrot perched
himself beside her with a gallant air: then assuming
a tenderness of tone, " Dry thy tears, most beautiful
of princesses/' said he, " I come to bring solace to thy
heart."

The princess was startled on hearing a voice, but turning
and seeing nothing but a little green-coated bird bobbing
and bowing before her ; " Alas ! what solace canst thou
yield," said she, " seeing thou art but a parrot ? "

The parrot was nettled at the question. '< I have con-
soled many beautiful ladies in my time," said he ; " but
let that pass. At present I come ambassador from a royal
prince. Know that Ahmed, the prince of Granada, has
arrived in quest of thee, and is encamped even now on the
flowery banks of the Tagus." •

The eyes of the beautiful princess sparkled at these
words even brighter than the diamonds in her coronet.
" O sweetest of parrots," cried she, " joyful indeed are thy
tidings, for I was faint and weary, and sick almost unto
death with doubt of the constancy of Ahmed. Hie thee
back, and tell him that the words of his letter are engraven
in my heart, and his poetry has been the food of my soul.
Tell him, however, that he must prepare to prove his love
by force of arms ; to-morrow is my seventeenth birthday,
when the king my father holds a great tournament ; several
princes are to enter the lists, and my hand is to be the prize
of the victor."

The parrot again took wing, and rustling through the
groves, flew back to where the prince awaited his return.
The rapture of Ahmed on finding the original of his adored
portrait, and finding her kind and true, can only be con-
ceived by those favoured mortals who have had the good
fortune to realise day-dreams and turn a shadow into sub-
stance : still there was one thing that alloyed his transport
— this impending tournament. In fact, the banks of the
Tagus were already glittering with arms, and resounding
with trumpets of the various knights, who, with proud
retinues, were prancing on towards Toledo to attend the
ceremonial. The same star that had controlled the destiny
of the prince, had governed that of the princess, and until

146 THE ALHAMBRA.

her seventeenth birthday she had been shut up from the
world, to guard her from the tender passion. The fame
of her charms, however, had been enhanced rather than
obscured by this seclusion. Several powerful princes had
contended for her alliance ; and her father, who was a king
of wondrous shrewdness, to avoid making enemies by
showing partiality, had referred them to the arbitrement
of arms. Among the rival candidates were several re-
nowned for strength and prowess. What a predicament
for the unfortunate Ahmed, unprovided as he was with
weapons, and unskilled in the exercises of chivalry ! ' ' Luck-
less prince that I am !" said he, " to have been brought
up in seclusion under the eye of a philosopher ! Of what
avail are algebra and philosophy in affairs of love ? Alas,
Eben Bonabben ! why hast thou neglected to instruct me
in the management of arms ? " Upon this the owl broke
silence, preluding his harangue with a pious ejaculation,
for he was a devout Mussulman.

" Allah Akbar ! God is great ! " exclaimed he ; ' ' in
his hands are all secret things — he alone governs the des-
tiny of princes ! Know, O prince, that this land is full
of mysteries, hidden from all but those who, like myself,
can grope after knowledge in the dark. Know that in the
neighbouring mountains there is a cave, and in that cave
there is an iron table, arid on that table there lies a suit of
magic armour, and beside that table there stands a spell-
bound steed, which have been shut up there for many
generations."

The prince stared with wonder, while the owl, blinking
his huge round eyes, and erecting his horns, proceeded.

lf Many years since, I accompanied my father to these
parts on a tour of his estates, and we sojourned in that
cave ; and thus became I acquainted with the mystery.
It is a tradition in our family which I have heard from
my grandfather, when I was yet but a very little owlet,
that this armour belonged to a Moorish magician, who
took refuge in this cavern when Toledo was captured by
the Christians, and died here, leaving his steed and wea-
pons under a mystic spell, neyer to be used but by a
Moslem, and by him only from sunrise to mid-day. In

LEGEND OF PRINCE AHMED AL KAMEL. 147

that interval, whoever uses them will overthrow every op-
ponent."

" Enough : let us seek this cave ! " exclaimed Ahmed.

Guided by his legendary mentor, the prince found the
cavern, which was in one of the wildest recesses of those
rocky cliffs which rise around Toledo ; none but the
mousing eye of an owl or an antiquary could have dis-
covered the entrance to it. A sepulchral lamp of ever-
lasting oil shed a solemn light through the place. On an
iron table in the centre of the cavern lay the magic armour,
against it leaned the lance, and beside it stood an Arabian
steed, caparisoned for the field, but motionless as a statue.
The armour was bright and unsullied as it had gleamed in
days of old ; the steed in as good a condition as if just
from the pasture ; and when Ahmed laid his hand upon
his neck, he pawed the ground and gave a loud neigh of
joy that shook the walls of the cavern. Thus amply pro-
vided with " horse to ride and weapon to wear," the
prince determined to defy the field in the impending
tournay.

The eventful morning arrived. The lists for the com-
bat were prepared in the Vega, or plain, just below the
cliff-built walls of Toledo, where stages and galleries were
erected for the spectators, covered with rich tapestry, and
sheltered from the sun by silken awnings. All the beau-
ties of the land were assembled in those galleries, while
below pranced plumed knights with their pages and
esquires, among whom figured conspicuously the princes
who were to contend in the tourney. All the beauties of
the land, however, were eclipsed when the princess Alde-
gonda appeared in the royal pavilion, and for the first
time broke forth upon the gaze of an admiring world. A
murmur of wonder ran through the crowd at her trans-
cendent loveliness ; and the princes who were candidates
for her hand, merely on the faith of her reported charms,
now felt tenfold ardour for the conflict.

The princess, however, had a troubled look. The
colour came and went from her cheek, and her eye wan-
dered with a restless and unsatisfied expression over the
plumed throng of knights. The trumpets were about
L 2

148 THE ALHAMBRA.

sounding for the encounter, when the herald announced
the arrival of a stranger knight ; and Ahmed rode into the
field. A steeled helmet studded with gems rose above his
turban ; his cuirass was embossed with gold ; his scymitar
and dagger were of the workmanship of Fez, and flamed
with precious stones. A round shield was at his shoulder,
and in his hand he bore the lance of charmed virtue.
The caparison of his Arabian steed was richly embroidered
and swept the ground, and the proud animal pranced and
snuffed the air, and neighed with joy at once more behold-
ing the array of arms. The lofty and graceful demeanour
of the prince struck every eye, and when his appellation
was announced, " The Pilgrim of Love," a universal
flutter and agitation prevailed among the fair dames in the
galleries.

When Ahmed presented himself at the lists, however,
they were closed against him : none but princes, he was
told, were admitted to the contest. He declared his name
and rank. Still worse — he was a Moslem, and could not
engage in a tourney where the hand of a Christian prin-
cess was the prize.

The rival princes surrounded him with haughty and
menacing aspects; and one of insolent demeanour and
herculean frame sneered at his light and youthful form,
and scoffed at his amorous appellation. The ire of the
prince was roused. He defied his rival to the encounter.
They took distance, wheeled, and charged ; and at the first
touch of the magic lance, the brawny scoffer was tilted
from his saddle. Here the prince would have paused, but,
alas ! he had to deal with a demoniac horse and armour —
once in action nothing could control them. The Arabian
steed charged into the thickest of the throng; the lance
overturned every thing that presented ; the gentle prince
was carried pell-mell about the field, strewing it with high
and low, gentle and simple, and grieving at his own invo-
luntary exploits. The king stormed and raged at this
outrage on his subjects and his guests. He ordered out all
his guards — they were unhorsed as fast as they came up.
The king threw off his robes, grasped buckler and lance,
and rode forth to awe the stranger with the presence of

LEGEND OF PRINCE AHMED AL KAMEL. 149

majesty itself. Alas ! majesty fared no better than the
vulgar — the steed and lance were no respecters of persons ;
to the dismay of Ahmed, he was borne full tilt against the
king, and in a moment the royal heels were in the air, and
the crown was rolling in the dust.

At this moment the sun reached the meridian ; the
magic spell resumed its power ; the Arabian steed scoured
across the plain, leaped the barrier, plunged into the
Tagus, swam its raging current, bore the prince breathless
and amazed to the cavern, and resumed his station like a
statue, beside the iron table. The prince dismounted
right gladly, and replaced the armour, to abide the further
decrees of fate. Then seating himself in the cavern, he
ruminated on the desperate state to which this demoniac
steed and armour had reduced him. Never should he dare
to show his face at Toledo after inflicting such disgrace
upon its chivalry, and such an outrage on its king. What,
too, would the princess think of so rude and riotous an
achievement ? Full of anxiety, he sent forth his winged
messengers to gather tidings. The parrot resorted to all
the public places and crowded resorts of the city, and soon
returned with a world of gossip. All Toledo was in con-
sternation. The princess had been borne off senseless to
the palace ; the tournament had ended in confusion ; every
one was talking of the sudden apparition, prodigious ex-
ploits, and strange disappearance of the Moslem knight.
Some pronounced him a Moorish magician ; others thought
him a demon who had assumed a human shape, while
others related traditions of enchanted warriors hidden in
the caves of the mountains, and thought it might be one
of these, who had made a sudden irruption from his den.
All agreed that no mere ordinary mortal could have
wrought such wonders, or unhorsed such accomplished and
stalwart Christian warriors.

The owl flew forth at night, and hovered about the
dusky city, perching on the roofs and chimneys. He then
wheeled his flight up to the royal palace, which stood on
the rocky summit of Toledo, and went prowling about its
terraces and battlements, eaves-dropping at every cranny,
and glaring in with his big goggling eyes at every window
L 3

150 THE ALHAMBRA.

where there was a light, so as to throw two or three maids
of honour into fits. It was not until the grey dawn began
to peer ahove the mountains, that he returned from his
mousing expedition,, and related to the prince what he had
seen.

" As I was prying about one of the loftiest towers of
the palace/' said he, " I beheld through a casement a
beautiful princess. She was reclining on a couch, with
attendants and physicians around her, but she would none
of their ministry and relief. When they retired, I beheld
her draw forth a letter from her bosom, and read and kiss
it, and give way to loud lamentations ; at which, philoso-
pher as I am, I could not but be greatly moved."

The tender heart of Ahmed was distressed at these tid-
ings. " Too true were thy words, O sage Eben Bonab-
ben," cried he ; " care and sorrow, and sleepless nights,
are the lot of lovers. Allah preserve the princess from the
blighting influence of this thing called love !"

Further intelligence from Toledo corroborated the re-
port of the owl. The city was a prey to uneasiness and
alarm. The princess was conveyed to the highest tower
of the palace, every avenue to which was strongly guarded.
In the mean time a devouring melancholy had seized upon
her, of which no one could divine the cause — she refused
food, and turned a deaf ear to every consolation. The
most skilful physicians had essayed their art in vain ; it
was thought some magic spell had been practised upon
her, and the king made proclamation, declaring that who-
ever should effect her cure should receive the richest jewel
in the royal treasury.

When the owl, who was dozing in a corner, heard of
this proclamation, he rolled his large eyes, and looked more
mysterious than ever.

" Allah Akbar ! " exclaimed he, " happy the man that
shall effect that cure, should he but know what to choose
from the royal treasury."

" What mean you, most reverend owl ? " said Ahmed.

<f Hearken, O prince, to what I shall relate. We owls,
you must know, are a learned body, and much given to
dark and dusty research. During my late prowling at

LEGEND OF PRINCE AHMED AIj KAMKL. 151

night about the domes and turrets of Toledo, I discovered
a college of antiquarian owls, who hold their meetings in
a great vaulted tower where the royal treasury is deposited.
Here they were discussing the forms and inscriptions and
designs of ancient gems and jewels, and of golden and
silver vessels, heaped up in the treasury, the fashion of
every country and age; but mostly they were interested
about certain reliques and talismans that have remained in
the treasury since the time of Roderick the Goth. Among
these was a box of sandal wood, secured by bands of
steel of Oriental workmanship, and inscribed with mystic
characters known only to the learned few. This box and
its inscription had occupied the college for several sessions,
and had caused much long and grave dispute. At the
time of my visit a very ancient owl, who had recently ar-
rived from Egypt, was seated on the lid of the box, lec-
turing upon the inscription, and he proved from it that the
coffer contained the silken carpet of the throne of Solomon
the wise ; which doubtless had been brought to Toledo by
the Jews who took refuge there after the downfal of Je-
rusalem."

When the owl had concluded his antiquarian harangue,
the prince remained for a time absorbed in thought. " I
have heard," said he, " from the sage Eben Bonabben, of
the wonderful properties of that talisman, which disap-
peared at the fall of Jerusalem, and was supposed to be lost
to mankind. Doubtless it remains a sealed mystery to the
Christians of Toledo. If I can get possession of that
carpet my fortune is secure."

The next day the prince laid aside his rich attire, and
arrayed himself in the simple garb of an Arab of the desert.
He dyed his complexion to a tawny hue, and no one could
have recognised in him the splendid warrior who had
caused such admiration and dismay at the tournament.
With staff in hand, and scrip by his side, and a small
pastoral reed, he repaired to Toledo, and presenting himself
at the gate of the royal palace, announced himself as a can-
didate for the reward offered for the cure of the princess.
The guards would have driven him away with blows.
" What can a vagrant Arab like thyself pretend to do,"
L 4

152 THE ALHAMBRA.

said they, " in a case where the most learned of the land
have failed ? " The king, however, overheard the tumult,
and ordered the Arab to be brought into his presence.

" Most potent king," said Ahmed, cf you behold before
you a Bedouin Arab, the greater part of whose life has
been passed in the solitudes of the desert. These solitudes,
it is well known, are the haunts of demons and evil spirits,
"who beset us poor shepherds in our lonely watchings, enter
into and possess our flocks and herds, and sometimes
render even the patient camel furious ; against these our
counter-charm is music ; and we have legendary airs handed
down from generation to generation, that we chant and
pipe, to cast forth these evil spirits. I am of a gifted line,
and possess this power in its fullest force. If it be any
evil influence of the kind that holds a spell over thy
daughter, I pledge my head to free her from its sway."

The king, who was a man of understanding, and knew
the wonderful secrets possessed by the Arabs, was inspired
with hope by the confident language of the prince. He
conducted him immediately to the lofty tower, secured by
several doors, in the summit of which was the chamber of
the princess. The windows opened upon a terrace with
balustrades, commanding a view over Toledo and all the
surrounding country. The windows were darkened, for
the princess lay within, a prey to a devouring grief that
refused all alleviation.

The prince seated himself on the terrace and performed
several wild Arabian airs on his pastoral pipe, which he
had learnt from his attendants in the Generalife at Gra-
nada. The princess continued insensible, and the doctors
who were present shook their heads, and smiled with incre-
dulity and contempt : at length the prince laid aside the
reed, and, to a simple melody, chanted the amatory verses
of the letter which had declared his passion.

The princess recognised the strain — a fluttering joy
stole to her heart ; she raised her head and listened ; tears
rushed to her eyes, and streamed down her cheeks ; her
bosom rose and fell with a tumult of emotions. She would
have asked for the minstrel to be brought into her presence,
but maiden coyness held her silent. The king read her

LEGEND OF PRINCE AHMED AL KAMEL. 153

wishes, and at his command Ahmed was conducted into
the chamber. The lovers were discreet: they but ex-
changed glances, yet those glances spoke volumes. Never
was triumph of music more complete. The rose had re-
turned to the soft cheek of the princess, the freshness to
her lip, and the dewy light to her languishing eyes.

All the physicians present stared at each other with
astonishment. The king regarded the Arab minstrel with
admiration mixed with awe. " Wonderful youth ! " ex-
claimed he, " thou shalt henceforth be the first physician
of my court, and no other prescription will I take but thy
melody. For the present receive thy reward, the most
precious jewel in my treasury."

" O king," replied Ahmed, " I care not for silver or
gold, or precious stones. One relique hast thou in thy
treasury, handed down from the Moslems who once owned
Toledo — a box of sandal wood containing a silken carpet :
give me that box, and I am content."

All present were surprised at the moderation of the Arab;
and still more when the box of sandal wood was brought
and the carpet drawn forth. It was of fine green silk,
covered with Hebrew and Chaldaic characters. The court
physicians looked at each other, and shrugged their
shoulders, and smiled at the simplicity of this new prac-
titioner, who could be content with so paltry a fee.

" This carpet," said the prince, " once covered the
throne of Solomon the wise ; it is worthy of being placed
beneath the feet of beauty."

So saying, he spread it on the terrace beneath an otto-
man that had been brought forth for the princess ; then
seating himself at her feet —

<f Who," said he, " shall counteract what is written in
the book of fate ? Behold the prediction of the astrologers
verified. Know, O king, that your daughter and I have
long loved each other in secret. Behold in me the Pilgrim
of Love!"

These words were scarcely from his lips, when the
carpet rose in the air, bearing off the prince and princess.
The king and the physicians gazed after it with open
mouths and straining eyes until it became a little speck on

154 THE ALHABIBRA.

the white bosom of a cloud, and then disappeared in the
blue vault of heaven.

The king in a rage summoned his treasurer. " How
is this," said he, " that thou hast suffered an infidel to get
possession of such a talisman ? "

" Alas, sir, we knew not its nature, nor could we decy-
pher the inscription of the box. If it be indeed the carpet
of the throne of the wise Solomon, it is possessed of magic
power, and can transport its owner from place to place
through the air."

The king assembled a mighty army, and set off for
Granada in pursuit of the fugitives. His march was long
and toilsome. Encamping in the Vega, he sent a herald
to demand restitution of his daughter. The king himself
came forth with all his court to meet him. In the king
he beheld the real minstrel, for Ahmed had succeeded to
the throne on the death of his father, and the beautiful
Aldegonda was his sultana.

The Christian king was easily pacified when he found
that his daughter was suffered to continue in her faith ;
not that he was particularly pious ; but religion is always
a point of pride and etiquette with princes. Instead of
bloody battles, there was a succession of feasts and re-
joicings, after which the king returned well pleased to
Toledo, and the youthful couple continued to reign as
happily as wisely in the Alhambra.

It is proper to add, that the owl and the parrot had
severally followed the prince by easy stages to Granada ;
the former travelling by night, and stopping at the various
hereditary possessions of his family ; the latter figuring in
gay circles of every town and city on his route.

Ahmed gratefully requited the services which they had
rendered on his pilgrimage. He appointed the owl his
prime minister, the parrot his master of ceremonies. It
is needless to say, that never was a realm more sagely
administered, or a court conducted with more exact
punctilio.

LEGEND OP THE MOOR's LKGACY. 155

LEGEND OF THE MOOR'S LEGACY.

JUST within the fortress of the Alharabra, in front of the
royal palace, is a broad open esplanade, called the Place or
Square of the Cisterns, (la Plaza de los Algibes,) so called
from being undermined by reservoirs of water, hidden
from sight, and which have existed from the time of the
Moors. At one corner of this esplanade is a Moorish well,
cut through the living rock to a great depth, the water of
which is cold as ice and clear as crystal. The wells made
by the Moors are always in repute, for it is well known
what pains they took to penetrate to the purest and sweet-
est springs and fountains. The one of which we now
speak is famous throughout Granada, insomuch that the
water carriers, some bearing great water jars on their
shoulders, others driving asses before them laden with
earthen vessels, are ascending and descending the steep
woody avenues of the Alhambra, from early dawn until
a late hour of the night.

Fountains and wells, ever since the scriptural days, have
been noted gossiping places in hot climates, and at the
well in question there is a kind of perpetual club kept
up during the live-long day, by the invalids, old women,
and other curious do-nothing folk of the fortress, who sit
here on the stone benches, under an awning spread over
the well to shelter the toll-gatherer from the sun, and
dawdle over the gossip of the fortress, and question every
water carrier that arrives about the news of the city, and
make long comments on every thing they hear and see.
Not an hour of the day but loitering housewives and idle
maid-servants.may be seen, lingering with pitcher on head
or in hand, to hear the last of the endless tattle of these
worthies.

Among the water carriers who once resorted to this
well, there was a sturdy, strong-backed, bandy-legged

156 THE ALHAMBRA.

little fellow, named Pedro Gil, but called Peregil for
shortness. Being a water carrier, he was a Gallego, or
native of Gallicia, of course. Nature seems to have formed
races of men, as she has of animals, for different kinds of
drudgery. In France the shoe-blacks are all Savoyards,
the porters of hotels all Swiss, and in the days of hoops
and hair powder in England, no man could give the
regular swing to a sedan-chair but a bog-trotting Irishman.
So in Spain, the carriers of water and bearers of burthens
are all sturdy little natives of Gallicia. No man says,
" Get me a porter," but, " Call a Gallego."

To return from this digression, Peregil the Gallego had
begun business with merely a great earthen jar, which he
carried upon his shoulder ; by degrees he rose in the
world, and was enabled to purchase an assistant of a cor-
responding class of animals, being a stout shaggy-haired
donkey. On each side of this his long-eared aid-de-camp,
in a kind of pannier, were slung his water-jars, covered
with fig leaves to protect them from the sun. There
was not a more industrious water carrier in all Granada,
nor one more merry withal. The streets rang with his
cheerful voice as he trudged after his donkey, singing forth
the usual summer note that resounds through the Spanish
towns : — " Quien quiere agua — agua mas fria que la
nieve ?" — ' ' Who wants water — water colder than
snow ? Who wants water from the well of the Alhambra,
cold as ice and clear as crystal ? " When he served a
customer with a sparkling glass, it was always with a
pleasant word that caused a smile ; and if, perchance,
it was a comely dame or dimpling damsel, it was always
with a sly leer and a compliment to her beauty that
•was irresistible. Thus Peregil the Gallego was noted
throughout all Granada for being one of the civilest,
pleasantest, and happiest of mortals. Yet it is not he who
sings loudest and jokes most that has the lightest heart.
Under all this air of merriment, honest Peregil had his
cares and troubles. He had a large family of ragged
children to support, who were hungry and clamorous as a
nest of young swallows, and beset him with their outcries
for food whenever he came home of an evening. He had

LEGEND OF THE MOOR*S LEGACY. 15?

a helpmate, too, who was any thing but a help to him.
She had been a village beauty before marriage, noted for
her skill at dancing the bolero and rattling the castanets ;
and she still retained her early propensities, spending the
hard earnings of honest Peregil in frippery, and laying the
very donkey under requisition for junketing parties into
the country on Sundays, and saints' days, and those in-
numerable holydays, which are rather more numerous in
Spain than the days of the week. With all this she was a
little of a slattern, something more of a lie-a-bed, and,
above all, a gossip of the first water ; neglecting house,
household, and every thing else, to loiter slip-shod in the
houses of her gossip neighbours.

He, however, who tempers the wind to the shorn lamb,
accommodates the yoke of matrimony to the submissive
neck. Peregil bore all the heavy dispensations of wife and
children with as meek a spirit as his donkey bore the
water-jars ; and, however he might shake his ears in
private, never ventured to question the household virtues
of his slattern spouse.

He loved his children, too, even as an owl loves its owlets,
seeing in them his own image multiplied and perpetuated;
for they were a sturdy, long-backed, bandy-legged little
brood. The great pleasure of honest Peregil was, when-
ever he could afford himself a scanty holyday, and had
a handful of maravedis to spare, to take the whole litter
forth with him, some in his arms, some tugging at his
skirts and some trudging at his heels, and to treat them to
a gambol among the orchards of the Vega, while his wife
was dancing with her holyday friends in the Angosturas of
the Darro.

It was a late hour one summer night, and most of the
water carriers had desisted from their toils. The day had
been uncommonly sultry ; the night was one of those
delicious moonlights, which tempt the inhabitants of those
southern climes to indemnify themselves for the heat and
inaction of the day, by lingering in the open air, and
enjoying its tempered sweetness, until after midnight.
Customers for water were therefore still abroad. Peregil,
like a considerate pains-taking little father, thought of his

158 THE ALHAMBRA.

hungry children. "" One more journey to the well," said
he to himself, " to earn a Sunday's puchero for the little
ones." So saying, he trudged manfully up the" steep
avenue of the Alhambra, singing as he went, and now and
then bestowing a hearty thwack with a cudgel on the flanks
of his donkey, either by way of cadence to the song, or
refreshment to the animal ; for dry blows serve in lieu of
provender in Spain for all beasts of burthen.

When arrived at the well, he found it deserted by every
one except a solitary stranger in Moorish garb, seated on
the stone bench in the moonlight. Peregil paused at first
and regarded him with surprise, not unmixed with awe,
but the Moor feebly beckoned him to approach. " I -am
faint and ill," said he ; " aid me to return to the city, and
I will pay thee double what thou couldst gain by thy jars
of water."

The honest heart of the little water carrier was touched
with compassion at the appeal of the stranger. " God
forbid," said he, " that I should ask fee or reward for
doing a common act of humanity." He accordingly helped
the Moor on his donkey, and set off slowly for Granada,
the poor Moslem being so weak that it was necessary to
hold him on the animal to keep him from falling to the
earth.

When they entered the city, the water carrier demanded
whither he should conduct him. " Alas !" said the Moor
faintly, fc I have neither home nor habitation ; I am a
stranger in the land. Suffer me to lay my head this night
beneath thy roof, and thou shalt be amply repaid."

Honest Peregil thus saw himself unexpectedly saddled
with an infidel guest, but he was too humane to refuse a
night's shelter to a fellow-being in so forlorn a plight, so
he conducted the Moor to his dwelling. The children,
who had sallied forth open-mouthed as usual on hearing
the tramp of the donkey, ran back with affright, when they
beheld the turbaned stranger, and hid themselves behind
their mother. The latter stepped forth intrepidly, like a
ruffling hen before her brood when a vagrant dog ap-
proaches.

" What infidel companion," cried she, " is this you

LEGEND OF THE MOOn's LEGACY. 159

have brought home at this late hour, to draw upon us the
eyes of the Inquisition ? "

" Be quiet, wife," replied the Gallego ; " here is a poor
sick stranger, without friend or home ; wouldst thou turn
him forth to perish in the streets ? "

The wife would still have remonstrated, for although
she lived in a hovel, she was a furious stickler for the credit
of her house ; the little water carrier, however, for once
was stiff-necked, and refused to hend beneath the yoke.
He assisted the poor Moslem to alight, and spread- a mat
and a sheep-skin for him, on the ground, in the coolest
part of the house; being the only kind of bed that his
-poverty afforded.

In a little while the Moor was seized with violent con-
vulsions, which defied all the ministering skill of the simple
* water carrier. The eye of the poor patient acknowledged
his kindness. During an interval of his fits he called him
to his side, and addressing him in a low voice, " My end,"
said he, " I fear is at hand. If I die I bequeath you this
box as a reward for your charity ; " so saying, he opened
his albornoz, or cloak, and showed a small box of sandal
wood, strapped round his body. " God grant, my friend,"
replied the worthy little Gallego, " that you may live many
years to enjoy your treasure, whatever it may be." The
Moor shook his head ; he laid his hand upon the box, and
would have said something more concerning it ; but his
convulsions returned with increased violence, and in a
little while he expired.

The water carrier's wife was now as one distracted.
" This comes," said she, ' ' of your foolish good nature,
always running into scrapes to oblige others. What will
become of us when this corpse is found in our house ?
We shall be sent to prison as murderers ; and if we
escape with our lives, shall be ruined by notaries and
alguazils."

Poor Peregil was in equal tribulation, and almost re-
pented himself of having done a good deed. At length a
thought struck him. <e It is not yet day," said he; " I
can convey the dead body out of the city, and bury it in
the sands on the banks of the Xenil. No one saw the

160

THE ALHAMBRA.

Moor enter our dwelling, and no one will know any thing
of his death."

So said, so done. The wife aided him ; they rolled
the body of the unfortunate Moslem in the mat on which
he had expired, laid it across the ass, and Peregil set out
with it for the banks of the river.

As ill luck would have it, there lived opposite to the
water carrier a barber named Pedrillo Pedrugo, one of the
most prying, tattling, and mischief-making of his gossip
tribe. He was a weasle- faced, spider-legged varlet, supple
and insinuating ; the famous barber of Seville could not
surpass him for his universal knowledge of the affairs of
others, and he had no more power of retention than a sieve.
It was said that he slept but with one eye at a time, and
kept one ear uncovered, so that, even in his sleep, he might
see and hear all that was going on. Certain it is, he was
a sort of scandalous chronicle for the quidnuncs of
Granada, and had more customers than all the rest of his
fraternity.

This meddlesome barber heard Peregil arrive at an un-
usual hour at night, and the exclamations of his wife and
children. His head was instantly popped out of a little
window which served him as a look-out, and he saw his
neighbour assist a man in Moorish garb into his dwelling.
This was so strange an occurrence, that Pedrillo Pedrugo
slept not a wink that night. Every five minutes he was
at his loophole, watching the lights that gleamed through
the chinks of his neighbour's door, and before daylight he
beheld Peregil sally forth with his donkey unusually laden.

The inquisitive barber was in a fidget ; he slipped on
his clothes, and, stealing forth silently, followed the water
carrier at a distance, until he saw him dig a hole in the sandy
bank of the Xenil, and bury something that had the ap-
pearance of a dead body.

The barber hied him home, and fidgeted about his shop,
setting every thing upside down, until sunrise. He then
took a basin under his arm, and sallied forth to the house
of his daily customer the alcalde.

The alcalde was just risen. Pedrillo Pedrugo seated
him in a chair, threw a napkin round his neck, put a basin

LEGEND OF THE MOOH,'s LEGACY. l6l

of hot water under his chin, and began to mollify his beard
with his fingers.

" Strange doings!" said Pedrugo, who played barber
and newsmonger at the same time — <( Strange doings !
Robbery, and murder, and burial, all in one night !"

" Hey ! — how! — what is that you»say?" cried the
alcalde.

" I say," replied the barber, rubbing a piece of soap
over the nose and mouth of the dignitary, for a Spanish
barber disdains to employ a brush — "I say that Peregil
the Gallego has robbed and murdered a Moorish Mussul-
man, and buried him this blessed night. Maldita sea la
noche — accursed be the night for the same ? "

" But how do you know all this? " demanded the alcalde.

" Be patient, Senor, and you shall hear all about it,"
replied Pedrillo, taking him by the nose and sliding a
razor over his cheek. He then recounted all that he had
seen, going through both operations at the same time,
shaving his beard, washing his chin, and wiping him dry
with a dirty napkin, while he was robbing, murdering, and
burying the Moslem.

Now it so happened that this alcalde was one of the
most overbearing, and at the same time most griping and
corrupt curmudgeons in all Granada. It could not be
denied, however, that he set a high value upon justice, for
he sold it at its weight in gold. He presumed the case in
point to be one of murder and robbery ; doubtless there
must be rich spoil ; how was it to be secured into the legi-
timate hands of the law ? for as to merely entrapping the
delinquent — that would be feeding the gallows ; but en-
trapping the booty — that would be enriching the judge,
and such, according to his creed, was the great end of jus-
tice. So thinking, he summoned to his presence his trustiest
alguazil — a gaunt, hungry-looking varlet, clad, according
to the custom of his order, in the ancient Spanish garb, a
broad black beaver turned up at the sides; a quaint ruff; a
small black cloak dangling from his shoulders ; rusty black
under- clothes that set off his spare wiry frame, while in
his hand he bore a slender white wand, the dreaded in-
signia of his office. Such was the legal bloodhound of the
M

162

THE ALHAMBRA.

ancient Spanish breed, that he put upon the traces of the
unlucky water carrier, and such was his speed and cer-
tainty, that he was upon the haunches of poor Perigil
before he had returned to his dwelling, and brought both
him and his donkey before the dispenser of justice.

The alcalde bent upon him one of his most terrific
frowns. " Hark ye, culprit ! " roared he, in a voice that
made the knees of the little Gallego smite together —
" hark ye, culprit ! there is no need of denying thy guilt ;
every thing is known to me. A gallows is the proper re-
ward for the crime thou hast committed, but I am merciful,
and readily listen to reason. The man that has been
murdered in thy house was a Moor, an infidel, the enemy
of our faith. It was doubtless in a fit of religious zeal that
thou hast slain him. I will be indulgent, therefore; render
up the property of which thou hast robbed him, and we will
hush the matter up."

The poor water carrier called upon all the saints to wit-
ness his innocence ; alas ! not one of them appeared ; and
if they had, the alcalde would have disbelieved the whole
calendar. The water carrier related the whole story of the
dying Moor with the straight-forward simplicity of truth,
but it was all in vain. " Wilt thou persist in saying,"
demanded the judge, " that this Moslem had neither gold
nor jewels, which were the object of thy cupidity ? "

(f As I hope to be saved, your worship," replied the
water carrier, " he had nothing but a small box of sandal
wood, which he bequeathed to me in reward for my
services."

fc A box of sandal wood ! a box of sandal wood ! " ex-
claimed the alcalde, his eyes sparkling at the idea of pre-
cious jewels. " And where is this box ? where have you
concealed it ? "

" An' it please your grace," replied the water carrier,
ce it is in one of the panniers of my mule, and heartily at
the service of your worship."

He had hardly spoken the words, when the keen algua-
zil darted off, and re appeared in an instant with the mys-
terious box of sandal wood. The alcalde opened it with
an eager and trembling hand ; all pressed forward to gaze

LEGEND OP THE MOOIl's LEGACY. 163

upon the treasures it was expected to contain ; when, to
their disappointment, nothing appeared within but a
parchment scroll, covered with Arabic characters, and an
end of a waxen taper.

When there is nothing to be gained by the conviction
of a prisoner, justice, even in Spain, is apt to be impartial.
The alcalde having recovered from his disappointment, and
found that there was really no booty in the case, now list-
ened dispassionately to the explanation of the water carrier,
which was corroborated by the testimony of his wife.
Being convinced, therefore, of his innocence, he discharged
him from arrest ; nay more, he permitted him to carry off
the Moor's legacy, the box of sandal wood and its contents,
as the well-merited reward of his humanity ; but he re-
tained his donkey in payment of cost and charges.

Behold the unfortunate little Gallego reduced once more
to the necessity of being his own water carrier, and trudging
up to the well of the Alhambra with a great earthen jar
upon his shoulder.

As he toiled up the hill in the heat of a summer noon,
his usual good humour forsook him. " Dog of an al-
calde ! " would he cry, ' e to rob a poor man of the means
of his subsistence, of the best friend he had in the world !"
And then, at the remembrance of the beloved companion
of his labours, all the kindness of his nature would break
forth. " Ah, donkey of my heart!" would he exclaim,
resting his burthen on a stone, and wiping the sweat from
his brow — " ah, donkey of my heart ! I warrant me
thou thinkest of thy old master ! I warrant me thou missest
the water-jars, poor beast ! "

To add to his afflictions, his wife received him, on his
return home, with whimperings and repinings ; she had
clearly the vantage ground of him, having warned him not
to commit the egregious act of hospitality that had brought
on him all these misfortunes ; and, like a knowing woman,
she took every occasion to throw her superior sagacity in
his teeth. If ever her children lacked food, or needed a
new garment, she could answer with a sneer — " Go to
your father — he is heir to king Chico of the Alhambra ;
ask him to help you out of the Moor's strong-box."
M 2

]64< THE ALHAMBRA.

Was ever poor mortal so soundly punished for having
done a good action ? The unlucky Peregil was grieved in
flesh and spirit, but still he bore meekly with the railings
of his spouse. At length, one evening, when, after a hot
day's toil, she taunted him in the usual manner, he lost
all patience. He did not venture to retort upon her, but
his eye rested upon the box of sandal wood, which lay on
a shelf with lid half open, as if laughing in mockery at his
vexation. Seizing it up, he dashed it with indignation to
the floor : — " Unlucky was the day that I ever set eyes
on thee," he cried, " or sheltered thy master beneath my
roof!"

As the box struck the floor, the lid flew wide open, and
the parchment scroll rolled forth. Peregil sat regarding
the scroll for some time in moody silence. At length ral-
lying his ideas — " Who knows," thought he, " but this
writing may be of some importance, as the Moor seems to
have guarded it with such care ? " Picking it up there-
fore, he put it in his bosom, and the next morning, as he
was crying water through the streets, he stopped at the
shop of a Moor, a native of Tangiers, who sold trinkets
and perfumery in the Zacatin, and asked him to explain
the contents.

The Moor read the scroll attentively, then stroked his
beard and smiled. " This manuscript," said he, " is a
form of incantation for the recovery of hidden treasure,
that is under the power of enchantment. It is said to
have such virtue, that the strongest bolts and bars, nay, the
adamantine rock itself will yield before it ! "

" Bah ! " cried the little Gallego, " what is all that to
me ? I am no enchanter, and know nothing of buried
treasure.'' So saying, he shouldered his water-jar, left
the scroll in the hands of the Moor, and trudged forward
on his daily rounds.

That evening, however, as he rested himself about twi-
light at the well of the Alhambra, he found a number of
gossips assembled at the place, and their conversation, as
is not unusual at that shadowy hour, turned upon old tales
and traditions of a supernatural nature. Being all poor as
rats, they dwelt with peculiar fondness upon the popular

LEGEND OP THE MOOn's LEGACY. 165

theme of enchanted riches left by the Moors in various
parts of the Alhambra. Above all, they concurred in the
belief that there were great treasures buried deep in the
earth under the tower of the seven floors.

These stories made an unusual impression on the mind
of honest Peregil, and they sank deeper and deeper into
his thoughts as he returned alone down the darkling ave-
nues. " If, after all, there should be treasure hid beneath
that tower — and if the scroll I left with the Moor should
enable me to get at it ! v In the sudden ecstasy of the
thought he had well nigh let fall his water-jar.

That night he tumbled and tossed, and could scarcely
get a wink of sleep for the thoughts that were bewildering
his brain. Bright and early, he repaired to the shop of
the Moor, and told him all that was passing in his mind.
" You can read Arabic," said be ; " suppose we go to-
gether to the tower, and try the effect, of the charm ; if it
fails we are no worse off than before, but if it succeeds we
will share equally all the treasure we may discover."

" Hold," replied the Moslem ; " this writing is not
sufficient of itself; it must be read at midnight, by the
light of a taper singularly compounded and prepared, the
ingredients of which are not within my reach. Without
such taper the scroll is of no avail."

" Say no more ! " cried the little Gallego, " I have such
a taper at hand, and will bring it here in a moment." So
saying, he hastened home, and soon returned with the end
of yellow wax taper that he had found in the box of
sandal wood.

The Moor felt it and smelt to it. " Here are rare and
costly perfumes/' said he, " combined with this yellow
wax. This is the kind of taper specified in the scroll.
While this burns, the strongest walls and most secret
caverns will remain open. Woe to him, however, who
lingers within until it be extinguished. He will remain
enchanted with the treasure."

It was now agreed between them to try the charm that

very night. At a late hour, therefore, when nothing was

stirring but bats and owls, they ascended the woody hill of

the Alhambra, and approached that awful tower, shrouded

M 3

166

THE ALHAMBRA.

by trees and rendered formidable by so many traditionary
tales. By the light of a lantern, they groped their way
through bushes, and over fallen stones, to the door of a
vault beneath the tower. With fear and trembling they
descended a flight of steps cut into the rock. It led to an
empty chamber damp arid drear, from which another flight
of steps led to a deeper vault. In this way they descended
four several flights, leading into as many vaults one below
the other, but. the floor of the fourth was solid; and
though, according to tradition, there remained three vaults
still below, it was said to be impossible to penetrate further,
the residue being shut up by strong enchantment. The
air of this vault was damp and chilly, and had an earthy
smell,, and the light scarce cast forth any rays. They
paused here for a time in breathless suspense, until they
faintly heard the clock of the watch-tower strike midnight;
upon this they lit the waxen taper, which diffused an
odour of myrrh and frankincense and storax.

The Moor began to read in a hurried voice. He had
scarce finished when there was a noise as of subterraneous
thunder. The earth shook, and the floor yawning open, dis-
closed a flight of steps. Trembling with awe they descended,
and by the light of the lantern found themselves in
another vault, covered with Arabic inscriptions. In the
centre stood a great chest, secured with seven bands of
steel, at each end of which sat an enchanted Moor in
armour, but motionless as a statue, being controlled by the
power of the incantation. Before the chest were several jars
rilled with gold and silver and precious stones. In the
largest of these they thrust their arms up to the elbow, and
at every dip hauled forth handfuls of broad yellow pieces
of Moorish gold, or bracelets and ornaments of the same
precious metal, while occasionally a necklace of oriental
pearl would stick to their fingers. Still they trembled and
breathed short while cramming their pockets with the
spoils ; and cast many a fearful glance at the two enchanted
Moors, who sat grim and motionless, glaring upon them
with unwinking eyes. At length, struck with a sudden
panic at some fancied noise, they both rushed up the stair-
case., tumbled over one another into the upper apartment.

LEGEND OP THE MOORs LEGACY. l?

overturned and extinguished the waxen taper, and the
pavement again closed with a thundering sound.

Filled with dismay, they did not pause until they had
groped their way out of the tower, and beheld the stars
shining through the trees. Then seating themselves upon
the grass, they divided the spoil, determining to content
themselves for the present with this mere skimming of the
jars, but to return on some future night and drain them to
the bottom. To make sure of each other's good faith, also,
they divided the talismans between them, one retaining the
scroll and the other the taper ; this done, they set off with
light hearts and well-lined pockets for Granada.

As they wended their way down the hill, the shrewd
Moor whispered a word of counsel in the ear of the simple
little water carrier.

" Friend Peregril," said he, " all this affair must be
kept a profound secret until we have secured the treasure
and conveyed it out of harm's way. If a whisper of it gets
to the ear of the alcalde we are undone ! "

" Certainly," replied the Gallego, " nothing can be more
true."

" Friend Peregil," said the Moor, " you are a discreet
man, and I make no doubt can keep a secret : but you have
a wife."

" She shall not know a word of it," replied the little
water carrier sturdily.

" Enough," said the Moor, " I depend upon thy dis-
cretion and thy promise."

Never was promise more positive and sincere ; but, alas !
what man can keep a secret from his wife ? Certainly not
such a one as Peregil the water carrier, who was one of the
most loving and tractable of husbands. On his return
home, he found his wife moping in a corner. " Mighty
well," cried she as he entered, " you've come at last ; after
rambling about until this hour of the night. I wonder you
have not brought home another Moor as a house-mate."
Then bursting into tears, she began to wring her hands
and smite her breast : " Unhappy woman that I am ! " ex-
claimed she, " what will become of me ? My house
stripped and plundered by lawyers and alguazils ; and my
M 4

168

THE ALHAMBRA.

husband a do-no-good, that no longer brings home bread
for his family, but goes rambling about day and night,
with infidel Moors ! O my children ! my children ! what
will become of us ? we shall all have to beg in the streets ! "

Honest Peregil was so moved by the distress of his
spouse, that he could riot help whimpering also. His heart
was as full as his pocket, and not to be restrained. Thrusting
his hand into the latter he hauled forth three or four broad
gold pieces, and slipped them into her bosom. The poor
woman stared with astonishment, and could not under-
stand the meaning of this golden shower. Before she
could recover her surprise, the little Gallego drew forth a
chain of gold and dangled it before her, capering with ex-
ultation., his mouth distended from ear to ear.

l( Holy Virgin protect us ! " exclaimed the wife. "What
hast thou been doing, Peregil ? surely thou hast not been
committing murder and robbery ! "

The idea scarce entered the brain of the poor woman,
than it became a certainty with her. She saw a prison and
a gallows in the distance, and a little bandy-legged Gallego
hanging pendant from it ; and overcome by the horrors
conjured up by her imagination, fell into violent hys-
terics.

What could the poor man do? He had no other means
of pacifying his wife and dispelling the phantoms of her
fancy than by relating the whole story of his good fortune.
This, however, he did not do until he had exacted from
her the most solemn promise to keep it a profound secret
from every living being.

To describe her joy would be impossible. She flung
her arms round the neck of her husband, and almost
strangled him with her caresses. " Now, wife," exclaimed
the little man with honest exultation, te what say you now
to the Moor's legacy ? Henceforth never abuse me for
helping a fellow-creature in distress."

The honest Gallego retired to his sheep-skin mat, and
slept as soundly as if on a bed of down. Not so his wife ;
she emptied the whole contents of his pockets upon the
mat, and sat all night counting gold pieces of Arabic coin,
trying on necklaces and earrings, and fancying the figure

LEGEND OP THE MOORs LEGACY. l9

she should one day make when permitted to enjoy her
riches.

On the following morning the honest Gallego took a
broard golden coin, and repaired with it to a jeweller's
shop in the Zacatin to offer it for sale, pretending to have
found it among the ruins of the Alhambra. The jeweller
saw that it had an Arabic inscription, and was of the
purest gold ; he offered, however, but a third of its value,
with which the water carrier was perfectly content.
Peregil now brought new clothes for his little flock, and all
kinds of toys, together with ample provisions for a hearty
meal, and returning to his dwelling, set all his children
dancing around him, while he capered in the midst, the
happiest of fathers.

The wife of the water carrier kept her promise of
secrecy with surprising strictness. For a whole day and a
half she went about with a look of mystery and a heart
swelling almost to bursting, yet she held her peace, though
surrounded by her gossips. It is true, she could not help
giving herself a few airs, apologised for her ragged dress,
and talked of ordering a new basquina all trimmed with
gold lace and bugles, and a new lace mantilla. She
threw out hints of her husband's intention of leaving off
his trade of water carrying, as it did not altogether agree
with his health. In fact, she thought they should all retire
to the country for the summer, that the children might
have the benefit of the mountain air, for there was no
living in the city in this sultry season.

The neighbours stared at each other, and thought the
poor woman had lost her wits ; and her airs and graces
and elegant pretensions were the theme of universal scoff-
ing and merriment among her friends, the moment her
back was turned.

If she restrained herself abroad, however, she indemni-
fied herself at home, and putting a string of rich oriental
pearls round her neck, Moorish bracelets on her arms, and
an aigrette of diamonds on her head, sailed backwards and
forwards in her slattern rags about the room, now and then
stopping to admire herself in a broken mirror. Nay, in
the impulse of her simple vanity, she could not resist, on

1?0 THE ALHAMBRA.

one occasion, showing herself at the window to enjoy the
effect of her finery on the passers-by.

As the fates would have it, Pedrillo Pedrugo, the
meddlesome barber, was at this moment sitting idly in his
shop on the opposite side of the street, when his ever-
watchful eye caught the sparkle of a diamond. In an
instant he was at his loop-hole reconnoitring the slattern
spouse of the water carrier, decorated with the splendour of
an eastern bride. No sooner had he taken an accurate
inventory of her ornaments, than he posted off with all
speed to the alcalde. In a little while the hungry
alguazil was again on the scent, and before the day was
over the unfortunate Peregil was again dragged into the
presence of the judge.

" How is this, villain ! " cried the alcalde in a furious
voice. " You told me that the infidel who died in your
house left nothing behind but an empty coffer, and now I
hear of your wife flaunting in her rags decked out with
pearls and diamonds. Wretch that thou art ! prepare to
render up the spoils of thy miserable victim, and to swing
on the gallows that is already tired of waiting for thee."

The terrified water carrier fell on his knees, and made a
full relation of the marvellous manner in which he had
gained his wealth. The alcalde, the alguazil, and the in-
quisitive barber listened with greedy ears to this Arabian
tale of enchanted treasure. The alguazil was despatched to
bring the Moor who had assisted in the incantation. The
Moslem entered half frightened out of his wits at finding
himself in the hands of the harpies of the law. When he
beheld the water carrier standing with sheepish looks and
downcast countenance, he comprehended the whole matter.
te Miserable animal," said he, as he passed near him, " did
I not warn thee against babbling to thy wife ?"

The story of the Moor coincided exactly with that of his
colleague ; but the alcalde affected to be slow of belief, and
threw out menaces of imprisonment and rigorous investiga-
tion.

" Softly, good Senor Alcalde," said the Mussulman, who
by this time had recovered his usual shrewdness and self-
possession. " Let us not mar Fortune's favours in the

LEGEND OF THE MOOR*S LEGACY. l?l

scramble for them. Nobody knows anything of this matter
but ourselves — let us keep the secret. There is wealth
enough in the cave to enrich us all. Promise a fair
division, and all shall be produced — refuse, and the cave
shall remain for ever closed."

The alcalde consulted apart with the alguazil. The
latter was an old fox in his profession. " Promise any-
thing," said he, " until you get possession of the treasure.
You may then seize upon the whole, and if he and his ac-
complice dare to murmur, threaten them with the faggot
and the stake as infidels and sorcerers."

The alcalde relished the advice. Smoothing his brow
and turning to the Moor, 'f This is a strange story," said
he, " and may be true, but I must have ocular proof of it.
This very night you must repeat the incantation in my
presence. If there be really such treasure, we will share it
amicably between us, and say nothing further of the matter;
if ye have deceived me, expect no mercy at my hands. In
the mean time you must remain in custody."

The Moor and the water carrier cheerfully agreed to
these conditions, satisfied that the event would prove the
truth of their words.

Towards midnight the alcalde sallied forth secretly, at-
tended by the alguazil and the meddlesome barber, all
strongly armed. They conducted the Moor and the water
carrier as prisoners, and were provided with the stout don-
key of the latter to bear off the expected treasure. They
arrived at the tower without being observed, and tying the
donkey to a fig tree, descended into the fourth vault of the
tower.

The scroll was produced, the yellow waxen taper lighted,
and the Moor read the form of incantation. The earth
trembled as before, and the pavement opened with a
thundering sound, disclosing the narrow flight of steps.
The alcalde, the alguazil, and the barber were struck
aghast, and could not summon courage to descend. The
Moor and the water carrier entered the lower vault, and
found the two Moors seated as before, silent, and motion-
less. They removed two of the great jars, filled with
golden coin and precious stones. The water carrier bore

172 THE ALHAMBRA.

them up one by one upon his shoulders, but though a
strong-backed little man,, and accustomed to carry burthens,
he staggered beneath their weight, and found, when slung
on each side of his donkey, they were as much as the animal
could bear.

' ' Let us be content for the present," said the Moor j
' ' here is as much treasure as we can carry off without
being perceived, and enough to make us all wealthy to our
heart's desire."

" Is there more treasure remaining behind ? " demanded
the alcalde.

' ' The greatest prize of all," said the Moor ; " a huge
coffer bound with bands of steel, and filled with pearls and
precious stones."

" Let us have up the coffer by all means," cried the
grasping alcalde.

" I will descend for no more," said the Moor doggedly ;
cc enough is enough for a reasonable man — more is
superfluous."

" And I," said the water carrier, (i will bring up no
further burthen to break the back of my poor donkey."

Finding commands, threats, and entreaties equally vain,
the alcalde turned to his two adherents. " Aid me," said
he, "to bring up the coffer, and its contents shall be
divided between us." So saying he descended the steps^
followed with trembling reluctance by the alguazil and the
barber.

No sooner did the Moor behold them fairly earthed than
he extinguished the yellow taper; the pavement closed
with its usual crash, and the three worthies remained
buried in its womb.

He then hastened up the different flights of steps, nor
stopped until in the open air. The little water carrier
followed him as fast as his short legs would permit.

" What hast thou done ? " cried Peregil, as soon as he
could recover breath. " The alcalde and the other two are
shut up in the vault."

" It is the will of Allah ! " said the Moor devoutly.

" And will you not release them ? " demanded the
Gallego.

LEGEND OF THE MOOR's LEGACY. 173

' ' Allah forbid ! " replied the Moor, smoothing his beard.
"It is written in the book of fate that they shall remain
enchanted until some future adventurer arrive to break the
charm. The will of God be done ! " So saying, he hurled
the end of the waxen taper far among the gloomy thickets
of the glen.

There was now no remedy ; so the Moor and the water
carrier proceeded with the richly laden donkey toward the
city, nor could honest Peregil refrain from hugging and
kissing his long-eared fellow labourer, thus restored to him
from the clutches of the law ; and, in fact, it is doubtful
which gave the simple-hearted little man most joy at the
moment, — the gaining of the treasure, or the recovery of
the donkey.

The two partners in good luck divided their spoil
amicably and fairly, except that the Moor, who had a
little taste for trinketry, made out to get into his heap the
most of the pearls and precious stones and other baubles,
but then he always gave the water carrier in lieu magni-
ficent jewels of massy gold, of five times the size, with
which the latter was heartily content. They took care not
to linger within reach of accidents, but made off to enjoy
their wealth undisturbed in other countries. The Moor
returned to Africa, to his native city of Tetuan, and the
Gallego with his wife, his children, and his donkey, made
the best of his way to Portugal. Here, under the ad-
monition and tuition of his wife, he became a personage of
some consequence, for she made the worthy little man
array his long body and short legs in doublet and hose,
with a feather in his hat and a sword by his side, and lay-
ing aside his familiar appellation of Peregil, assume the
more sonorous title of Don Pedro Gil : his progeny grew
up a thriving and merry-hearted, though short and bandy-
legged generation, while Sefiora Gil, befringed, belaced, and
betasselled from her head to her heels, with glittering rings
on every finger, became a model of slattern fashion and finery.

As to the alcalde and his adjuncts, they remained shut
up under the great tower of the seven floors, and there
they remain spell-bound at the present day. Whenever
there shall be a lack in Spain of pimping barbers, sharking

174 THE ALHAMBRA.

alguazils, and corrupt alcaldes, they may be sought after ;
but if they have to wait until such time for their deliver-
ance, there is danger of their enchantment enduring until
doomsday.

LEGEND OF THE ROSE OF THE AL-
HAMBRA, ETC.

FOR some time after the surrender of Granada by the
Moors that delightful city was a frequent and favourite
residence of the Spanish sovereigns, until they were fright-
ened away by successive shocks of earthquakes, which
toppled down various houses, and made the old Moslem
towers rock to their foundation.

Many, many years then rolled away, during which
Granada was rarely honoured by a royal guest. The
palaces of the nobility remained silent and shut up ; and
the Alhambra, like a slighted beauty, sat in mournful
desolation among her neglected gardens. The tower of
the Infantas, once the residence of the three beautiful
Moorish princesses, partook of the general desolation, and
the spider spun her web athwart the gilded vault, and bats
and owls nestled in those chambers that had been graced
by the presence of Zayda, Zorayda, and Zorahayda. The
neglect of this tower may partly have been owing to some
superstitious notions of the neighbours. It was rumoured
that the spirit of the youthful Zorahayda, who had perished
in that tower, was often seen by moonlight seated beside
the fountain in the hall, or moaning about the battle-
ments, and that the notes of her silver lute would be heard
at midnight by wayfarers passing along the glen.

At length the city of Granada was once more welcomed
by the royal presence. All the world knows that Philip V.
was the first Bourbon that swayed the Spanish sceptre.
All the world knows that he married, in second nuptials,

LEGEND OF THE ROSE OF THE ALIIAMBRA. 175

Elizabetta, or Isabella, (for they are the same,) the beautiful
Princess of Parma ; and all the world knows that by this
chain of contingencies a French prince and an Italian
princess were seated together on the Spanish throne. For
the reception of this illustrious pair the Alhambra was re-
paired and fitted up with all possible expedition. The
arrival of the court changed the whole aspect of the
lately deserted palace. The clangour of drum and trumpet,,
the tramp of steed about the avenues and outer court, the
glitter of arms and display of banners about barbican and
battlement, recalled the ancient and warlike glories of the
fortress. A softer spirit however reigned within the royal
palace. There was the rustling of robes, and the cautious
tread and murmuring voice of reverential courtiers about
the antechambers; a loitering of pages and maids of honour
about the gardens, and the sound of music stealing from
open casements.

Among those who attended in the train of the monarchs
was a favourite page of the queen, named Ruyz de Alar-
con. To say that he was a favourite page of the queen
was at once to speak his eulogium, for every one in the
suite of the stately Elizabetta was chosen for grace, and
beauty, and accomplishments. He was just turned of
eighteen, light and lithe of form, and graceful as a young
Antinous. To the queen he was all deference and respect,
yet he was at heart a roguish stripling, petted and spoiled
by the ladies about the court, and experienced in the ways
of women far beyond his years.

This loitering page was one morning rambling about the
groves of the Generalife, which overlook the grounds of
the Alhambra. He had taken with him for his amuse-
ment a favourite gerfalcon of the queen. In the course
of his rambles seeing a bird rising from a thicket, he
unhooded the hawk and let him fly. The falcon towered
high in the air, made a swoop at his quarry, but missing
it, soared away regardless of the calls of the page. The
latter followed the truant bird with his eye, in its ca-
pricious flight, until he saw it alight upon the battlements
of a remote and lonely tower, in the outer wall of the
Alhambra, built on the edge of a ravine that separated the

176 THE ALHAMBBA.

royal fortress from the grounds of the Generalife. It was
in fact the ft Tower of the Princesses."

The page descended into the ravine and approached the
tower, but it had no entrance from the glen, and its lofty
height rendered any attempt to scale it fruitless. Seeking
one of the gates of the fortress, therefore, he made a wide
circuit to that side of the tower facing within the walls.

A small garden, enclosed by a trellis-work of reeds
overhang with myrtle, lay before the tower. Opening
a wicket the page passed between beds of flowers and
thickets of roses to the door. It was closed and bolted. A
crevice in the door gave him a peep into the interior.
There was a small Moorish hall with fretted walls, light
marble columns, and an alabaster fountain surrounded with
flowers. In the centre hung a gilt cage containing a
singing bird ; beneath it, on a chair, lay a tortoiseshell cat
among reels of silk and other articles of female labour,
and a guitar decorated with ribands leaned against the
fountain.

Ruyz de Alarcon was struck with these traces of female
taste and elegance in a lonely, and, as he had supposed,
deserted tower. They reminded him of the tales of en-
chanted halls current in the Alhambra ; and the tortoise-
shell cat might be some spell-bound princess.

He knocked gently at the door. A beautiful face peeped
out from a little window above, but was instantly with-
drawn. He waited, expecting that the door would be
opened, but he waited in vain ; no footstep was to be
heard within — all was silent. Had his senses deceived
him, or was this beautiful apparition the fairy of the
tower ? He knocked again, and more loudly. After a
little while the beaming face once more peeped forth ; it
was that of a blooming damsel of fifteen.

The page immediately doffed his plumed bonnet, and
entreated, in the most courteous accents, to be permitted to
ascend the tower in pursuit of his falcon.

" I dare not open the door, Senor," replied the little
damsel, blushing, <e my aunt has forbidden it."

" I do beseech you, fair maid — it is the favourite

LEGEND OF THE ROSE OF THE ALHAMBRA. 1?7

falcon of the queen : I dare not return to the palace with-
out it."

" Are you then one of the cavaliers of the court ? "

<( I am, fair maid ; but I shall lose the queen's favour
and my place, if I lose this hawk."

" Santa Maria ! It is against you cavaliers of the
court my aunt has charged me especially to bar the door."

" Against wicked cavaliers, doubtless, but I am none of
these, but a simple harmless page, who will be ruined and
undone if you deny me this small request."

The heart of the little damsel was touched by the
distress of the page. It was a thousand pities he should
be ruined for the want of so trifling a boon. Surely, too,
he could not be one of those dangerous beings whom her
aunt had described as a species of cannibal, ever on the
prowl to make prey of thoughtless damsels ; he was gentle
and modest, and stood so cntreatingly with cap in hand,
and looked so charming.

The sly page saw that the garrison began to waver, and
redoubled his entreaties in such moving terms that it was
not in the .nature of mortal maiden to deny him ; so the
blushing little warden of the tower descended and opened
the door with a trembling hand, and if the page had been,
charmed by a mere glimpse of her countenance from the
window, he was ravished by the full-length portrait now
revealed to him.

Her Andalusian bodice and trim basquina set off the
round but delicate symmetry of her form, which was as
yet scarce verging into womanhood. Her glossy hair
was parted on her forehead with scrupulous exactness, and
decorated with a fresh plucked rose, according to the
universal custom of the country. It is true her com-
plexion was tinged by the ardour of a southern sun, but it
served to give richness to the mantling bloom of her cheek,
and to heighten the lustre of her melting eyes.

Ruyz de Alarcon beheld all this with a single glance,
for it became him not to tarry ; he merely murmured his
acknowledgments, and then bounded lightly up the spiral
staircase in quest of his falcon.

He soon returned with the truant bird upon his fist.

N

178 THE ALHAMBRA.

The damsel, in the mean time, had seated herself by the
fountain in the hall, and was winding silk ; hut in her
agitation she let fall the reel upon the pavement. The
page sprang and picked it up, then dropping gracefully on
one knee, presented it to her ; but, seizing the hand
extended to receive it, imprinted on it a kiss more fervent
and devout than he had ever imprinted on the fair hand of
his sovereign.

" Ave Maria, Senor !" exclaimed the damsel, blushing
still deeper with confusion and surprise, for never before
had she received such a salutation.

The modest page made a thousand apologies, assuring
her it was the way, at court, of expressing the most pro-
found homage and respect.

Her anger, if anger she felt, was easily pacified, but
her agitation and embarrassment continued, and she sat
blushing deeper and deeper, with her eyes cast down upon
her work, entangling the silk which she attempted to
wind.

The cunning page saw the confusion in the opposite
camp, and would fain have profited by it, but the fine
speeches he would have uttered died upon his lips, his at-
tempts at gallantry were awkward and ineffectual, and to
his surprise, the adroit page, who had figured with such
grace and effrontery among the most knowing and ex-
perienced ladies of the court, found himself awed and
abashed in the presence of a simple damsel of fifteen.

In fact, the artless maiden, in her own modesty and
innocence, had guardians more effectual than the bolts and
bars prescribed by her vigilant aunt. Still, where is the
female bosom proof against the first whisperings of love ?
The little damsel, with all her artlessness, instinctively
comprehended all that the faltering tongue of the page
failed to express, and her heart was fluttered at beholding,
for the first time, a lover at her feet — and such a lover !

The diffidence of the page, though genuine, was short-
lived, and he was recovering his usual ease and confidence,
when a shrill voice was heard at a distance.

" My aunt is returning from mass !" cried the damsel
in affright : " I pray you, Senor, depart."

LEGEND OF THE ROSE OF THE ALHAMBRA. 1?9

" Not until you grant me that rose from your hair as a
remembrance."

She hastily untwisted the rose from her raven locks.
" Take it/' cried she, agitated and blushing,, <e but pray
begone."

The page took the rose, and at the same time covered
with kisses the fair hand that gave it. Then, placing the
flower in his bonnet, and taking the falcon upon his fist,
he bounded off through the garden, bearing away with
him the heart of the gentle Jacinta.

When the vigilant aunt arrived at the tower, she re-
marked the agitation of her niece, and an air of confusion
in the hall ; but a word of explanation sufficed. tc A ger-
falcon had pursued his prey into the hall."

" Mercy on us ! to think of a falcon flying into the
tower. Did ever one hear of so saucy a hawk ? Why,
the very bird in the cage is not safe ! "

The vigilant Fredegonda was one of the most wary
of ancient spinsters. She had a becoming terror and dis-
trust of what she denominated " the opposite sex," which
had gradually increased through a long life of celibacy.
Not that the good lady had ever suffered from their wiles,
nature having set up a safeguard in her face that forbade
all trespass upon her premises ; but ladies who have least
cause to fear for themselves, are most ready to keep a
watch over their more tempting neighbours.

The niece was the orphan of an officer who had fallen
in the wars. She had been educated in a convent, and had
recently been transferred from her sacred asylum to the
immediate guardianship of her aunt, under whose over-
shadowing care she vegetated in obscurity, like an opening
rose blooming beneath a briar. Nor indeed is this com-
parison entirely accidental ; for, to tell the truth, her fresh
and dawning beauty had caught the public eye, even in
her seclusion, and, with that poetical turn common to the
people of Andalusia, the peasantry of the neighbourhood
had given her the appellation of " the Rose of the Al-
hambra."

The wary aunt continued to keep a faithful watch over
N 2

180 THE ALHAMBRA.

her tempting little niece as long as the court continued
at Granada, and flattered herself that her vigilance had
been successful. It is true, the good lady was now and
then discomposed by the tinkling of guitars and chanting
of low ditties from the moonlit groves beneath the tower ;
but she would exhort her niece to shut her ears against
such idle minstrelsy, assuring her that it was one of the
arts of the opposite sex, by which simple maids were
often lured to their undoing. Alas ! what chance with
a simple maid has a dry lecture against a moonlight
serenade?

At length King Philip cut short his sojourn at Granada,
and suddenly departed with all his train. The vigilant
Fredegonda watched the royal pageant as it issued forth
from the gate of justice, and descended the great avenue
leading to the city. When the last banner disappeared
from her sight, she returned exulting to her tower, for all
her cares were over. To her surprise, a light Arabian
steed pawed the ground at the wicket-gate of the garden :
to her horror, she saw through the thickets of roses a
youth, in gaily embroidered dress, at the feet of her niece.
At the sound of her footsteps he gave a tender adieu,
bounded lightly over the barrier of reeds and myrtles,
sprang upon his horse, and was out of sight in an instant.

The tender Jacinta, in the agony of her grief, lost all
thought of her aunt's displeasure. Throwing herself into
her arms, she broke forth into sobs and tears.

" Ay de mi !" cried she ; " he's gone ! — he's gone !
he's gone ! and I shall never see him more ! "

<l Gone ! — who is gone? — what youth is that I saw at
your feet ? "

" A queen's page, aunt, who came to bid me farewell."

" A queen's page, child !" echoed the vigilant Frede-
gonda faintly ; " and when did you become acquainted
with a queen's page ? "

" The morning that the ger-falcon came into the tower.
It was the queen's ger-falcon, and he came in pursuit
of it."

" Ah, silly, silly girl! know that there are no ger-falcons
half so dangerous as these young prankling pages, and it

LEGEND OF THE ROSE OF THE ALHAMBRA. 181

is precisely such simple birds as thee that they pounce
upon."

The aunt was at first indignant at learning that, in
despite of her boasted vigilance, a tender intercourse had
been carried on by the youthful lovers,, almost beneath her
eye ; but when she found that her simple-hearted niece,
though thus exposed, without the protection of bolt or
bar, to all the machinations of the opposite sex, had come
forth unsinged from the fiery ordeal, she consoled herself
with the persuasion that it was owing to the chaste and
cautious maxims in which she had, as it were, steeped her
to the very lips.

While the aunt laid this soothing unction to her pride,
the niece treasured up the oft repeated vows of fidelity of
the page. But what is the love of restless, roving man ?
A vagrant stream, that dallies for a time with each flower
upon its bank, then passes on, and leaves them all in
tears.

Days, weeks, months elapsed, and nothing more was
heard of the page. The pomegranate ripened, the vine
yielded up its fruit, the autumnal rains descended in
torrents from the mountains ; the Sierra Nevada became
covered with a snowy mantle, and wintry blasts howled
through the halls of the Alhambra — still he came not.
The winter passed away. Again the genial spring burst
forth with song and blossom and balmy zephyr ; the snows
melted from the mountains, until none remained but on the
lofty summit of Nevada, glistening through the sultry
summer air. Still nothing was heard of the forgetful
page.

In the mean time, the poor little Jacinta grew pale and
thoughtful. Her former occupations and amusements
were abandoned, her silk lay entangled, her guitar un-
strung, her flowers were neglected, the notes of her bird un-
heeded, and her eyes, once so bright, were dimmed with
secret weeping. If any solitude could be devised to foster
the passion of a love-lorn damsel, it would be such a place
as the Alhambra, where every thing seems disposed to
produce tender and romantic reveries. It is a very paradise
N 3

1S2 THE ALHAMBBA.

for lovers : how hard then to be alone in such a paradise
— and not merely alone, hut forsaken !

' ' Alas, silly child ! " would the staid and immaculate
Fredegonda say., when she found her niece in one of her
desponding moods — "did I not warn thee against the
wiles and deceptions of these men ? What couldst thou
expect, too, from one of a haughty and aspiring family —
thou an orphan, the descendant of a fallen and impo-
verished line ? Be assured, if the youth were true, his
father, who is one of the proudest nobles about the court,
would prohibit his union with one so humble and portion-
less as thou. Pluck up thy resolution, therefore, and
drive these idle notions from thy mind."

The words of the immaculate Fredegonda only served
to increase the melancholy of her niece, but she sought to
indulge it in private. At a late hour one midsummer
night, after her aunt had retired to rest, she remained
alone in the hall of the tower, seated beside the alabaster
fountain. It was here that the faithless page had first
knelt and kissed her hand ; it was here that he had often
vowed eternal fidelity. The poor little damsel's heart was
overladen with sad and tender recollections, her tears began
to flow, and slowly fell drop by drop into the fountain.
By degrees the crystal water became agitated, and —
bubble — bubble — bubble — boiled up and was tossed
about, until a female figure, richly clad in Moorish robes,
slowly rose to view.

Jacinta was so frightened that she fled from the hall,
and did not venture to return. The next morning she re-
lated what she had seen to her aunt, but the good lady
treated it as a fantasy of her troubled mind, or supposed
she had fallen asleep and dreamt beside the fountain.
<e Thou hast been thinking of the story of the three
Moorish princesses that once inhabited this tower," con-
tinued she, " and it has entered into thy dreams."

<c What story, aunt ? I know nothing of it."

" Thou hast certainly heard of the three princesses,
Zayda, Zorayda, and Zorahayda, who were confined in
this tower by the king their father, and agreed to fly with
three Christian cavaliers. The two first accomplished

LEGEND OF THE HOSE OF THE ALII AMUR A. 183

their escape, but the third failed in her resolution, and, it
is said, died in this tower."

" I now recollect to have heard of it," said Jacinta,
" and to have wept over the fate of the gentle Zora-
hayda."

" Thou mayest well weep over her fate/' continued the
aunt, " for the lover of Zorahayda was thy ancestor. He
long bemoaned his Moorish love, but time cured him of
his grief, and he married a Spanish lady, from whom thou
art descended," Jacinta ruminated upon these words.
" That what I have seen is no fantasy of the brain,"
said she to herself, " I am confident. If indeed it be the
spirit of the gentle Zorahayda, which I have heard lingers
about this tower, of what should I be afraid ? I'll watch
by the fountain to-night — perhaps the visit will be re-
peated."

Towards midnight, when every thing was quiet, she
again took her seat in the hall. As the bell in the distant
watch-tower of the Alhambra struck the midnight hour,
the fountain was again agitated; and bubble — bubble —
bubble — it tossed about the waters until the Moorish
female again rose to view. She was young and beautiful ;
her dress was rich with jewels, and in her hand she held a
silver lute. Jacinta trembled and was faint, but was re-
assured by the soft and plaintive voice of the apparition,
and the sweet expression of her pale melancholy coun-
tenance.

" Daughter of mortality," said she, " what aileth thee ?
Why do thy tears trouble my fountain, and thy sighs and
plaints disturb the quiet watches of the night?"

" I weep because of the faithlessness of man, and I be-
moan my solitary and forsaken state."

Take comfort ; thy sorrows may yet have an end.
Thou beholdest a Moorish princess, who, like thee, was
unhappy in her love. A Christian knight, thy ancestor,
won my heart, and would have borne me to his native
land and to the bosom of his church. I was a convert in
my heart, but I lacked courage equal to my faith, and
lingered till too late. For this the evil genii are permitted
to have power over me, and I remain enchanted in this
N 4

184) THE ALHAMBRA.

tower until some pure Christian will deign to break the
magic spell. Wilt thou undertake the task ? "

" I will," replied the damsel trembling.

" Come hither, then, and fear not ; dip thy hand in the
fountain, sprinkle the water over me, and baptize me after
the manner of thy faith ; so shall the enchantment be dis-
pelled, and my troubled spirit have repose."

The damsel advanced with faltering steps, dipped her
hand in the fountain, collected water in the palm, and
sprinkled it over the pale face of the phantom.

The latter smiled with ineffable benignity. She dropped
her silver lute at the feet of Jacinta, crossed her white arms
upon her bosom and melted from sight, so that it seemed
merely as if a shower of dew-drops had fallen into the
fountain.

Jacinta retired from the hall filled with awe and wonder.
She scarcely closed her eyes that night, but when she
awoke at daybreak out of a troubled slumber, the whole
appeared to her like a distempered dream. On descending
into the hall, however, the truth of the vision was estab-
lished ; for, beside the fountain, she beheld the silver lute
glittering in the morning sunshine.

She hastened to her aunt, to relate all that had befallen
her, arid called her to behold the lute as a testimonial of
the reality of her story. If the good lady had any linger-
ing doubts, they were removed when Jacinta touched the
instrument, for shev drew forth such ravishing tones as to
thaw even the frigid bosom of the immaculate Fredegonda,
that region of eternal winter, into a genial flow. Nothing
but supernatural melody could have produced such an
effect. The extraordinary power of the lute became every
day more and more apparent. The wayfarer passing by
the tower was detained, and, as it were, spell bound, in
breathless ecstasy. The very birds gathered in the neigh-
bouring trees, and, hushing their own strains, listened in
charmed silence.

Rumour soon spread the news abroad. The inhabitants
of Granada thronged to the Alhambra to catch a few notes
of the transcendent music that floated about the tower of
Las Infantas.

LEGEND OF THE ROSE OF THE ALHAMBRA. 185

The lovely little minstrel was at length drawn forth from
her retreat. The rich and powerful of the land contended
who should entertain and do honour to her ; or rather,
who should secure the charms of her lute to draw fashion-
able throngs to their saloons. Wherever she went her
vigilant aunt kept a dragon watch at her elbow, awing the
throngs of impassioned admirers, who hung in raptures on
her strains. The report of her wonderful powers spread
from city to city. Malaga, Seville, Cordova, all became
successively mad on the theme; nothing was talked of
throughout Andalusia but the beautiful minstrel of the
Alhambra. How could it be otherwise among a people so
musical and gallant as the Andalusians, when the lute was
magical in its powers, and the minstrel inspired by love ?

While all Andalusia was thus music mad, a different
mood prevailed at the court of Spain. Philip V., as is
well known, was a miserable hyponchondriac, and subject
to all kinds of fancies. Sometimes he would keep to his
bed for weeks together, groaning under imaginary com-
plaints. At other times he would insist upon abdicating
his throne, to the great annoyance of his royal spouse, who
had a strong relish for the splendours of a court, and the
glories of a crown, and guided the sceptre of her imbecile
lord with an expert and steady hand.

Nothing was found to be so efficacious in dispelling the
royal megrims as the powers of music ; the queen took
care, therefore, to have the best performers, both vocal and
instrumental, at hand, and retained the famous Italian
singer, FarineUi, about the court as a kind of royal phy-
sician.

At the moment we treat of, however, a freak had come
over the mind of this sapient and illustrious Bourbon that
surpassed all former vagaries. After a long spell of ima-
ginary illness, which set all the strains of Farinelli, and
the consultations of a whole orchestra of court fiddlers at
defiance, the monarch fairly, in idea, gave up the ghost,
and considered himself absolutely dead.

This would have been harmless enough, and even con-
venient both to his queen and courtiers, had he been con-
tent to remain in the quietude befitting a dead man ; but

186

THE ALHAMBRA.

to their annoyance he insisted upon having the funeral
ceremonies performed over him, and, to their inexpressible
perplexity, began to grow impatient, and to revile bitterly
at them for negligence and disrespect, in leaving him un-
buried. What was to be done ? To disobey the king's
positive commands was monstrous in the eyes of the obse-
quious courtiers of a punctilious court — but to obey him
and bury him alive would be downright regicide !

In the midst of this fearful dilemma a rumour reached
the court, of the female minstrel who was turning the
brains of all Andalusia. The queen' despatched missions
in all haste to summon her to St. Ildefonso, where the
court at that time resided.

Within a few days, as the queen with her maids of
honour was walking in those stately gardens intended, with
their avenues and terraces and fountains, to eclipse the
glories of Versailles, the far-famed minstrel was conducted
into her presence. The imperial Elizabetta gazed with
surprise at the youthful and unpretending appearance of
the little being that had set the world madding. She was
in her picturesque Andalusian dress, her silver lute was in
her hand, and she stood with modest and downcast eyes,
but with a simplicity and freshness of beauty that still be-
spoke her " the Rose of the Alhambra."

As usual she was accompanied by the ever vigilant Fre-
degonda, who gave the whole history of her parentage and
descent to the inquiring queen. If the stately Elizabetta
had been interested by the appearance of Jacinta, she was
still more pleased when she learnt that she was of a meri-
torious though impoverished line, and that her father had
bravely fallen in the service of the crown. " If thy
powers equal their renown," said she, " and thou canst
cast forth this evil spirit that possesses thy sovereign, thy
fortunes shall henceforth be my care, and honours and
wealth attend thee."

Impatient to make trial of her skill, she led the way at
once to the apartment of the moody monarch.

Jacinta followed with downcast eyes through files of
guards and crowds of courtiers. They arrived at length
at a great chamber hung with black. The windows were

LEGEND OP THE ROSE OF THE ALHAMBBA. 187

closed to exclude the light of day : a number of yellow wax
tapers in silver sconces diffused a lugubrious light, and
dimly revealed the figures of mutes in mourning dresses,
and courtiers who glided about with noiseless step and
woe-begone visage. On the midst of a funeral bed or bier,
his hands folded on his breast, and the tip of his nose just
visible, lay extended this would-be-buried monarch.

The queen entered the chanYber in silence, and pointing
to a footstool in an obscure corner, beckoned to Jacinta to
sit down and commence.

At first she touched her lute with a faltering hand, but
gathering confidence and animation as she proceeded, drew
forth such soft aerial harmony, that all present could scarce
believe it mortal. As to the monarch, who had already
considered himself in the world of spirits, he set it down
for some angelic melody or the music of the spheres. By
degrees the theme was varied, and the voice of the minstrel
accompanied the instrument. She poured forth one of the
legendary ballads treating of the ancient glories of the
Alhambra and the achievements of the Moors. Her whole
soul entered into the theme, for with the recollections of
the Alhambra was associated the story of her love. The
funeral chamber resounded with the animating strain. It
entered into the gloomy heart of the monarch. He raised
his head and gazed around : he sat up on his couch, his
eye began to kindle — at length, leaping upon the floor, he
called for sword and buckler.

The triumph of music, or rather of the enchanted lute,
was complete ; the demon of melancholy was cast forth j
and, as it were, a dead man brought to life. The windows
of the apartment were thrown open ; the glorious efful-
gence of Spanish sunshine burst into the late lugubrious
chamber; all eyes sought the lovely enchantress, — but the
lute had fallen from her hand, she had sunk upon the
earth, and the next moment was clasped to the bosom of
Ruyz de Alarcon.

The nuptials of the happy couple were shortly after
celebrated with great splendour; — but hold — I hear the
reader ask, how did Ruyz de Alarcon account for his long
neglect? O that was all owing to the opposition of a

188 THE ALHAMBBA.

proud pragmatical old father : besides, young people, who
really like one another, soon come to an amicable under-
standing, and bury all past grievances when once they
meet.

But how was the proud pragmatical old father reconciled
to the match ?

O his scruples were easily overcome by a word or two
from the queen, especially as dignities and rewards were
showered upon the blooming favourite of royalty. Besides
the lute of Jacinta, you know, possessed a magic power,
and could control the most stubborn head and hardest
breast.

And what came of the enchanted lute ?

O that is the most curious matter of all, and plainly
proves the truth of all this story. That lute remained for
some time in the family, but was purloined and carried
off, as was supposed, by the great singer, Farinelli , in pure
jealousy. At his death it passed into other hands in Italy,
who were ignorant of its mystic powers, and melting down
the silver, transferred the strings to an old Cremona riddle.
The strings still retain something of their magic virtues.
A word in the reader's ear, but let it go no further — that
fiddle is now bewitching the whole world — it is the fiddle
of Paganini !

THE VETERAN.

AMONG the curious acquaintances I have made in my
rambles about the fortress, is a brave and battered old
colonel of invalids, who is nestled like a hawk in one of
the Moorish towers. His history, which he is fond of
telling, is a tissue of those adventures, mishaps, and vicis-
situdes that render the life of almost every Spaniard of
note as varied and whimsical as the pages of Gil Bias.
He was in America at twelve years of age, and reckons

THE VETERAN. 189

among the most signal and fortunate events of his life, his
having seen General Washington. Since then he has taken,
a part in all the wars of his country ; he can speak expe-
rimentally of most of the prisons and dungeons of the Pe-
ninsula ; has been lamed of one leg, crippled in his hands,
and so cut up and carbonadoed that he is a kind of walking
monument of the troubles of Spain, on which there is a
scar for every battle and broil, as every year of captivity
was notched upon the tree of Robinson Crusoe. The great-
est misfortune of the brave old cavalier, however, appears
to have been his having commanded at Malaga during a
time of peril and confusion, and been made a general by
the inhabitants, to protect them from the invasion of the
French. This has entailed upon him a number of just
claims upon government, that I fear will employ him until
his dying day in writing and printing petitions and memo-
rials, to the great disquiet of his mind, exhaustion of his
pursei, and penance of his friends ; not one of whom can
visit him without having to listen to a mortal document of
half an hour in length, and to carry away half a dozen
pamphlets in his pocket. This, however, is the case
throughout Spain ; every where you meet with some worthy
wight brooding in a corner, and nursing up some pet griev-
ance and cherished wrong. Beside, a Spaniard who has a
lawsuit, or a claim upon government, may be considered
as furnished with employment for the remainder of his life.
I visited the veteran in his quarters in the upper part of
the Torre del Vino, or Wine Tower. His room was small
but snug, and commanded a beautiful view of the Vega. It
was arranged with a soldier's precision. Three muskets and
a brace of pistols, all bright and shining, were suspended
against the wall with a sabre and a cane, hanging side by
side, and above them, two cocked hats, one for parade, and
one for ordinary use. A small shelf containing some half
dozen books, formed his library, one of which, a little old
mouldy volume of philosophical maxims, was his favourite
reading. This he thumbed and pondered over day by day ;
applying every maxim to his own particular case, provided
it had a little tinge 'of wholesome bitterness, and treated of
the injustice of the world.

190 THE ALHAMBBA.

Yet he is social and kind-hearted, and, provided he can
be diverted from his wrongs and his philosophy, is an en-
tertaining companion. I like these old weather-beaten sons
of fortune, and enjoy their rough campaigning anecdotes.
In the course of my visit to the one in question, I learnt
some curious facts about an old military commander of the
fortress, who seems to have resembled him in some re-
spects, and to have had similar fortunes in the wars.
These particulars have been augmented by inquiries among
some of the old inhabitants of the place, particularly the
father of Mateo Ximenes, of whose traditional stories the
worthy I am about to introduce to the reader is a favourite
hero.

THE GOVERNOR AND THE NOTARY.

IN former times there ruled, as governor of the Alhambra,
a doughty old cavalier, who, from having lost one arm in
the wars, was commonly known by the name of el Gober-
nador Manco, or " the one-armed governor." He, in fact,
prided himself upon being an old soldier, wore his mus-
tachios curled up to his eyes, a pair of campaigning boots,
and a toledo as long as a spit, with his pocket handkerchief
in the basket hilt.

He was, moreover, exceedingly proud and punctilious,
and tenacious of all his privileges and dignities. Under
his sway the immunities of the Alhambra, as a royal resi-
dence and domain, were rigidly exacted. No one was per-
mitted to enter the fortress with fire-arms, or even with a
sword or staff, unless he were of a certain rank ; and every
horseman was obliged to dismount at the gate, and lead his
horse by the bridle. Now as the hill of the Alhambra
rises from the very midst of the city of Granada, being, as
it were, an excrescence of the capital, it must at all times
be somewhat irksome to the captain general, who commands
the province, to have thus an imperium in imperlo, a petty

THE GOVERNOR AND THE NOTARY. 191

independent post in the very centre of his domains. It
was rendered the more galling, in the present instance, from
the irritable jealousy of the old governor, that took fire on
the least question of authority and jurisdiction, and from
the loose vagrant character of the people that had gradually
nestled themselves within the fortress, as in a sanctuary,
and from thence carried on a system of roguery and de-
predation at the expense of the honest inhabitants of the
city.

Thus there was a perpetual feud and heart-burning be-
tween the captain general and the governor, the more viru-
lent on the part of the latter, inasmuch as the smallest of
two neighbouring potentates is always the most captious
about his dignity. The stately palace of the captain -ge-
neral stood in the Plaza Nueva, immediately at the foot of
the hill of the Alhambra, and here was always a bustle and
parade of guards and domestics, and city functionaries. A
beetling bastion of the fortress overlooked the palace and
public square in front of it ; and on this bastion the old
governor would occasionally strut backwards and forwards,
with his toledo girded by his side, keeping a wary eye
down upon his rival, like a hawk reconnoitring his quarry
from his nest in a dry tree.

Whenever he descended into the city it was in grand
parade, on horseback, surrounded by his guards, or in his
state coach, an ancient and unwieldy Spanish edifice of
carved timber and gilt leather, drawn by eight mules, with
running footmen, outriders, and lackeys, on which occa-
sions he flattered himself he impressed every beholder with
awe and admiration as vicegerent of the king, though the
wits of Granada, particularly those who loitered about the
palace of the captain general, were apt to sneer at his petty
parade, and in allusion to the vagrant character of his
subjects, to greet him with the appellation of " the king of
the beggars." One of the most fruitful sources of dispute
between these two doughty rivals was the right claimed by
the governor to have all things passed free of duty through
the city, that were intended for the use of himself or his
garrison. By degrees this privilege had given rise to ex-
tensive smuggling. A nest of contrabandistas took up their

192 THE ALHAMBRA.

abode in the hovels of the fortress, and the numerous caves
in its vicinity, and drove a thriving business under the con-
nivance of the soldiers of the garrison.

The vigilance of the captain general was aroused. He
consulted his legal adviser and factotum, a shrewd meddle-
some escribano, or notary, who rejoiced in an opportunity
of perplexing the old potentate of the Alhambra, and in-
volving him in a maze of legal subtilties. He advised the
captain general to insist upon the right of examining every
convoy passing through the gates of his city, and he penned
a long letter for him in vindication of the right. Governor
Manco was a straightforward cut and thrust old soldier,
who hated an escribano worse than the devil, and this one
in particular worse than all other escribanos.

" What ! " said he, curling up his mustachios fiercely,
" does the captain general set his man of the pen to prac-
tise confusions upon me ? I '11 let him see that an old
soldier is not to be baffled by schoolcraft."

He seized his pen, and scrawled a short letter, in a crab-
bed hand, in which, without deigning to enter into argu-
ment, he insisted on the right of transit free of search, and
denounced vengeance on any custom-house officer who
should lay his unhallowed hand on any convoy protected
by the flag of the Alhambra. While this question was
agitated between the two pragmatical potentates, it so hap-
pened, that a mule, laden with supplies for the fortress,
arrived one day at the gate of Xenil, by which it was to
traverse a suburb of the city on its way to the Alhambra.
The convoy was headed by a testy old corporal, who had
long served under the governor, and was a man after his
own heart; as rusty and staunch as an old toledo blade.
As they approached the gate of the city the corporal placed
the banner of the Alhambra on the packsaddle of the
mule, and, drawing himself up to a perfect perpendicular,
advanced with his head dressed to the front, but with the
wary side glance of a cur passing through hostile ground,
and ready for a snap and a snarl.

" Who goes there ? " said the sentinel at the gate.

" Soldier of the Alhambra," said the corporal, without
turning his head.

THE GOVERNOR AND THE NOTARY. 193

" What have you in charge ? "

" Provisions for the garrison."

" Proceed."

The corporal marched straight forward, followed by the
convoy, but had not advanced many paces before a posse
of custom-house officers rushed out of a small toll-house.

" Hallo,, there !" cried the leader. " Muleteer, halt, and
open those packages."

The corporal wheeled round, and drew himself up in
battle array. " Respect the flag of the Alhambra/' said
he ; " these things are for the governor."

" A figo for the governor, and a figo for his flag. Mule-
teer, halt, I say."

' ' Stop the convoy at your peril ! " cried the corporal,
cocking his musket : " Muleteer, proceed."

The muleteer gave his beast a hearty thwack ; the
custom-house officer sprang forward and seized the halter ;
whereupon the corporal levelled his piece and shot him
dead.

The street was immediately in an uproar. The old cor-
poral was seized, and after undergoing sundry kicks, and
cuffs, and cudgellings, which are generally given impromptu
by the mob in Spain, as a foretaste of the after penalties of
the law, he was loaded with irons, and conducted to the
city prison ; while his comrades were permitted to proceed
with the convoy, after it had been well rummaged, to the
Alhambra.

The old governor was in a towering passion when he
heard of this insult to his flag and capture of his corporal.
For a time he stormed about the Moorish halls, and va-
poured about the bastions, and looked down fire and sword
upon the palace of the captain general. Having vented
the first ebullition of his wrath, he despatched a message,
demanding the surrender of the corporal, as to him alone
belonged the right of sitting in judgment on the offences of
those under his command. The captain general, aided by
the pen of the delighted escribano, replied at great length,
arguing that as the offence had been committed within the
walls of his city, and against one of his civil officers, it was
clearly within his proper jurisdiction. The governor re-

194< THE ALHAMBRA.

joined by a repetition of his demand ; the captain general
gave a surrejoinder of still greater length and legal acu-
men ; the governor became hotter and more peremptory in
his demands, and the captain general cooler and more
copious in his replies ; until the old lion-hearted soldier
absolutely roared with fury at being thus entangled in the
meshes of legal controversy.

While the subtile escribano was thus amusing himself at
the expense of the governor, he was conducting the trial of
the corporal, who, mewed up in a narrow dungeon of the
prison, had merely a small grated window at which to show
his iron-bound visage, and receive the consolations of his
friends.

A mountain of written testimony was diligently heaped
up, according to Spanish form, by the indefatigable escri-
bano ; the corporal was completely overwhelmed by it. He
was convicted of murder, and sentenced to be hanged.

It was in vain the governor sent down remonstrance and
menace from the Alhambra. The fatal day was at hand,
and the corporal was put in capilla, that is to say, in the
chapel of the prison, as is always done with culprits the
day before execution, that they may meditate on their ap-
proaching end, and repent them of their sins.

Seeing things drawing to an extremity, the old governor
determined to attend to the affair in person. For this
purpose he ordered out his carriage of state, and, sur-
rounded by his guards, rumbled down the avenue of the
Alhambra into the city. Driving to the house of the escri-
bano, he summoned him to the portal.

The eye of the old governor gleamed like a coal at be-
holding the smirking man of the law advancing with an
air of exultation.

" What is this I hear," cried he, " that you are about
to put to death one of my soldiers ? "

" All according to law — all in strict form of justice,"
said the self-sufficient escribano, chuckling, and rubbing his
hands. " I can show your excellency the written testimony
in the case."

" Fetch it hither," said the governor. The escribano
bustled into his office, delighted with having another op-

THE GOVERNOR AND THE NOTARY. I £5

portunity of displaying his ingenuity at the expense of the
hard-headed veteran.

He returned with a satchel full of papers, and began to
read a long deposition with professional volubility. By this
time a crowd had collected, listening with out-stretched
necks and gaping mouths.

" Prythee, man, get into the carriage, out of this pes-
tilent throng, that I may the better hear thee," said the
governor.

The escribano entered the carriage, when, in a twinkling,
the door was closed, the coachman smacked his whip —
mules, carriage, guards, and all dashed off at a thundering
rate, leaving the crowd in gaping wonderment ; nor did the
governor pause until he had lodged his prey in one of the
strongest dungeons of the Alhambra.

He then sent down a flag of truce in military style, pro-
posing a cartel or exchange of prisoners — the corporal for
the notary. The pride of the captain-general was piqued ;
he returned a contemptuous refusal, and forthwith caused
a gallows, tall and strong, to be erected in the centre of the
Plaza Nueva for the execution of the corporal.

" Oho ! is that the game ? " said Governor Manco. He
gave orders, and immediately a gibbet was reared on the
verge of the great beetling bastion that overlooked the
Plaza. " Now," said he in a message to the captain
general, " hang my soldier when you please ; but at the
same time that he is swung off in the square, look up to
see your escribano dangling against the sky."

The captain general was inflexible ; troops were paraded
in the square ; the drums beat, the bell tolled. An im-
mense multitude of amateurs gathered together to behold
the execution. On the other hand, the governor paraded
his garrison on the bastion, and tolled the funeral dirge of
the notary from the Torre de la Campana, or Tower of the
Bell.

The notary's wife pressed through the crowd with a
whole progeny of little embryo escribanos at her heels,
and throwing herself at the feet of the captain general,
implored him not to sacrifice the life of her husband, and
the welfare of herself and her numerous little ones, to a
o 2

]9 THE ALHA31BRA.

point of pride ; " for you know the old governor too well/'
said she, " to doubt that he will put his threat in exe-
cution, if you hang the soldier."

The captain general was overpowered hy her tears and
lamentations, and the clamours of her callow brood. The
corporal was sent up to the Alhambra, under a guard, in
his gallows' garb, like a hooded friar, but with head erect
and a face of iron. The escribano was demanded in ex-
change, according to the cartel. The once bustling and
self-sufficient man of the law was drawn forth from his
dungeon more dead than alive. All his flippancy and con-
ceit had evaporated ; his hair, it is said, had nearly turned
grey with affright, and he had a downcast, dogged look,
as if he still felt the halter round his neck.

The old governor stuck his one arm a-kimbo, and for a
moment surveyed him with an iron smile. " Henceforth,
my friend," said he, " moderate your zeal in hurrying
others to the gallows ; be not too certain of your safety,
even though you should have the law on your side ; and
above all, take care how you play off your schoolcraft
another time upon an old soldier."

GOVERNOR MANCO AND THE SOLDIER.

WHEN Governor Manco, or " the one-armed/' kept up a
show of military state in the Alhambra, he became nettled
at the reproaches continually cast upon his fortress, of
being a nestling place of rogues and contrabandistas. On
a sudden, the old potentate determined on reform, and
setting vigorously to work, ejected whole nests of vaga-
bonds out of the fortress and the gipsy caves with which
the surrounding hills are honeycombed. He sent out
soldiers also, to patrol the avenues and footpaths, with
orders to take up all suspicious persons.

One bright summer morning, a patrol, consisting of the
testy old corporal who had distinguished himself in the

GOVERNOR MANCO AND THE SOLDIER. 197

affair of the notary, a trumpeter and two privates, was
seated under the garden wall of the Generalise, beside the
road which leads down from the mountain of the sun,
when they heard the tramp of a horse, and a male voice
singing in rough, though not unmusical tones, an old Cas-
tilian campaigning song.

Presently they beheld a sturdy sun-burnt fellow, clad in
the ragged garb of a foot soldier leading a powerful Ara-
bian horse, caparisoned in the ancient Moresco fashion.

Astonished at the sight of a strange soldier descending,
steed in hand, from that solitary mountain, the corporal
stepped forth and challenged him.

" Who goes there ? "

" A friend."

." Who and what are you ? "

" A poor soldier just from the wars, with a cracked
crown and empty purse for a reward."

By this time they were enabled to view him more nar-
rowly. He had a black patch across his forehead, which,
with a grizzled beard, added to a certain dare-devil cast of
countenance, while a slight squint threw into the whole an
occasional gleam of roguish good-humour.

Having answered the questions of the patrol, the soldier
seemed to consider himself entitled to make others in re-
return. " May I ask," said he, " what city is that which
I see at the foot of the hill ? "

f ' What city ! " cried the trumpeter ; ' ' come, that 's too
bad. Here 's a fellow lurking about the mountain of the
sun, and demands the name of the great city of Gran-
ada ! "

" Granada I Madre di Dios ! can it be possible ? "

{( Perhaps not ! " rejoined the trumpeter ; " and per-
haps you have no idea that yonder are the towers of the
Alhambra." •

" Son of a trumpet," replied the stranger, " do not
trifle with me ; if this be indeed the Alhambra^ I have
some strange matters to reveal to the governor."

" You will have an opportunity," said the corporal,
f( for we mean to take you before him." By this time the
trumpeter had seized the bridle of the steed, the two pri
o 3

198 THE ALHAMBRA.

vates had each secured an arm of the soldier, the corporal
put himself in front, gave the word, " Forward — march ! "
and away they marched for the Alhambra.

The sight of a ragged foot soldier and a fine Arabian
horse, brought in captive by the patrol, attracted the atten-
tion of all the idlers of the fortress, and of those gossip
groups that generally assemble about wells and fountains
at early dawn. The wheel of the cistern paused in its
rotations, and the slipshod servant-maid stood gaping,
with pitcher in hand, as the corporal passed by with his
prize. A motley train gradually gathered in the rear of
the escort.

Knowing nods and winks and conjectures passed from
one to another. " It is a deserter," said one ; " A con-
trabandista," said another ; <c A bandalero," said a third;
— until it was affirmed that a captain of a desperate band
of robbers had been captured by the prowess of the corporal
and his patrol. " Well, well," said the old crones, one to
another, " captain or not, let him get out of the grasp of
old Governor Manco if he can, though he is but one-
handed."

Governor Manco was seated in one of the inner halls of
the Alhambra, taking his morning's cup of chocolate in
company with his confessor, a fat Franciscan friar, from
the neighbouring convent. A demure, dark-eyed damsel
of Malaga, the daughter of his housekeeper, was attending
upon him. The world hinted that the damsel, who, with
all her demureness, was a sly buxom baggage, had found
out a soft spot in the iron heart of the old governor, and
held complete control over him. But let that pass — the
domestic affairs of these mighty potentates of the earth
should not be too narrowly scrutinised.

When word was brought that a suspicious stranger had
been taken lurking about the fortress, and was actually in
the outer court, in durance of the corporal, waiting the
pleasure of his excellency, the pride and stateliness of
office swelled the bosom of the governor. Giving back
his chocolate cup into the hands of the demure damsel, he
called for his basket-hilted sword, girded it to his side,
twirled up his mustachios, took his seat in a large high-

GOVERNOR BIANCO AND THE SOLDIER. 199

backed chair, assumed a bitter and forbidding aspect, and
ordered the prisoner into his presence. The soldier was
brought in, still closely pinioned by his captors, and guarded
by the corporal. He maintained, however, a resolute self-
confident air, and returned the sharp, scrutinising look of
the governor with an easy squint, which by no means
pleased the punctilious old potentate.

" Well, culprit," said the governor, after he had re-
garded him for a moment in silence, l ' what have you to
say for yourself — who are you ? "

<c A soldier, just from the wars, who has brought away
nothing but scars and bruises."

'•' A soldier — humph — a foot soldier by your garb. I
understand you have a fine Arabian horse. I presume you
brought him too from the wars, beside your scars and
bruises."

" May it please your excellency, I have something
strange to tell about that horse. Indeed I have one of the
most wonderful things to relate. Something too that con-
cerns the security of this fortress, indeed of all Granada.
But it is a matter to be imparted only to your private ear,
or in presence of such only as are in your confidence.

The governor considered for a moment, and then di-
rected the corporal and his men to withdraw, but to post
themselves outside of the door, and be ready at a call.
" This holy friar," said he, " is my confessor, you may
say any thing in his presence — and this damsel," nodding
towards the handmaid, who had loitered with an air of
great curiosity, " this damsel is of great secrecy and dis-
cretion, and to be trusted with any thing."

The soldier gave a glance between a squint and a leer at
the demure handmaid. ft I am perfectly willing," said he,
" that the damsel should remain."

When all the rest had withdrawn, the soldier com-
menced his story. He was a fluent, smooth-tongued varlet,
and had a command of language above his apparent rank.

" May it please your excellency," said he, " I am, as I
before observed, a soldier, and have seen some hard service,
but my term of enlistment being expired, I was discharged,,

200 THE ALHAMBBA.

not long since, from the army of Valladolid, and set out
on foot for my native village in Andalusia. Yesterday
evening the sun went down as I was traversing a great dry
plain of Old Castile.

" Hold/' cried the governor, " what is this you say ?
Old Castile is some two or three hundred miles from this."

(( Even so/' replied the soldier coolly. " I told your ex-
cellency I had strange things to relate ; but not more
strange than true ; as your excellency will find, if you will
deign me a patient hearing."

" Proceed, culprit," said the governor, twirling up his
mustachios.

" As the sun went down," continued the soldier, " I
cast my eyes about in search of some quarters for the night ;
but, far as my sight could reach, there were no signs of
habitation. I saw that I should have to make my bed on
the naked plain, with my knapsack for a pillow ; but your
excellency is an old soldier, and knows that to one who has
been in the wars such a night's lodging is no great hard-
ship."

The governor nodded assent, as he drew his pocket
handkerchief out of the basket hilt, to drive away a fly that
buzzed about his nose.

"• Well, to make a long story short," continued the sol-
dier, ' ' I trudged forward for several miles until I came to
a bridge over a deep ravine, through which ran a little
thread of water, almost dried up by the summer heat. At
one end of the bridge was a Moorish tower, the upper end
all in ruins, but a vault in the foundation quite entire.
Here, thinks I, is a good place to make a halt ; so I went
down to the stream, took a hearty drink, for the water was
pure and sweet, and I was parched with thirst ; then open-
ing my wallet, I took out an onion and a few crusts,
which were all my provisions, and seating myself on a
stone on the margin of the stream, began to make my sup-
per ; intending afterwards to quarter myself for the night
in the vault of the tower; and capital quarters they would
have been for a campaigner just from the wars, as your
excellency, who is an old soldier, may suppose."

" I have put up gladly with worse in my time," said the

GOVERNOR MANCO AND THE SOLDIER. 201

governor, returning his pocket handkerchief into the hilt
of his sword.

" While I was quietly crunching my crust," pursued
the soldier, " I heard something stir within the vault ; I
listened — it was the tramp of a horse. By and bye, a
man came forth from a door in the foundation of the tower,
close by the water's edge, leading a powerful horse by the
bridle. I could not well make out what he was by the
starlight. It had a suspicious look to be lurking among
the ruins of a tower, in that wild solitary place. He might
be a mere wayfarer, like myself; he might be a contra-
bandista ; he might be a bandalero ; what of that ? thank
heaven and my poverty, I had nothing to lose ; so I sat
still and crunched my crusts.

" He led his horse to the water, close by where I was
sitting, so that I had a fair opportunity of reconnoitring
him. To my surprise he was dressed in a Moorish garb,
with a cuirass of steel, and a polished skull-cap that I dis-
tinguished by the reflection of the stars upon it. His horse,
too, was harnessed in the Moresco fashion, with great
shovel stirrups. He led him, as I said, to the side of the
stream, into which the animal plunged his head almost to
the eyes, and drank until I thought he would have burst.

<( ' Comrade/ said I, f your steed drinks well; it's a
good sign when a horse plunges his muzzle bravely into the
water.'

(( ' He may well drink,' said the stranger, speaking with
a Moorish accent, ' it is a good year since he had his last
draught.'

" ' By Santiago,' said I, e that beats even the camels that
I have seen in Africa. But come, you seem to be some-
thing of a soldier, will you sit down and take part of a
soldier's fare ? ' In fact I felt the want of a companion in
this lonely place, and was willing to put up with an infidel.
Besides, as your excellency well knows, a soldier is never
very particular about the faith of his company, and sol-
diers of all countries are comrades on peaceable ground."

The governor again nodded assent.

ce Well, as I was saying, I invited him to share my
supper, such as it was, for I could not do less in common

202 THE ALHAMBRA.

hospitality. ' I have no time to pause for meat or drink/
said he, c I have a long journey to make before morning.'

" ' In which direction?' said I.

fe ' Andalusia/ said he.

" ' Exactly my route,' said I ; ' so, as you won't stop
and eat with me, perhaps you will let me mount and ride
with you. I see your horse is of a powerful frame, I'll
warrant he'll carry double.'

" ' Agreed/ said the trooper ; and it would not have
been civil and soldier-like to refuse, especially as I had of-
fered to share my supper with him. So up he mounted,
and up I mounted behind him.

" ' Hold fast,' said he, f my steed goes like the wind.'

" ' Never fear me,' said I, and so off we set.

" From a walk the horse soon passed to a trot, from a
trot to a gallop, and from a gallop to a harum scarum
scamper. It seemed as if rocks, trees, houses, every thing,
flew hurry scurry behind us.

'< f What town is this ? ' said I.

" * Segovia/ said he ; and before the word was out of
his mouth, the towers of Segovia were out of sight. We
swept up the Guadarama mountains, and down by the Es-
curial ; and we skirted the walls of Madrid, and we scoured
away across the plains of La Mancha. In this way we
went up hill and down dale, by towers and cities, all buried
in deep sleep, and across mountains, and plains, and rivers,
just glimmering in the starlight.

" To make a long story short, and not to fatigue your
excellency, the trooper suddenly pulled up on the side of
a mountain. " Here we are," said he, " at the end of our
journey." I looked about, but could see no signs of habi-
tation ; nothing but the mouth of a cavern. While I
looked I saw multitudes of people in Moorish dresses, some
on horseback, some on foot, arriving as if borne by the
wind from all points of the compass, and hurrying into
the mouth of the cavern, like bees into a hive. Before I
could ask a question, the trooper struck his long Moorish
spurs into the horse's flanks and dashed in with the throng.
We passed along a steep winding way, that descended into
the very bowels of the mountain. As we pushed on, a

GOVERNOR MANCO AND THE SOLDIER.

203

light began to glimmer up by little and little, like the first
glimmerings of day, but what caused it I could not discern.
It grew stronger and stronger, and enabled me to see every
thing around. I now noticed, as we passed along, great
caverns, opening to the right and left, like halls in an
arsenal. In some there were shields, and helmets, and
cuirasses, and lances, and scimitars, hanging against the
walls ; in others there were great heaps of warlike mu-
nitions, and camp equipage lying upon the ground.

" It would have done your excellency's heart good,
being an old soldier, to have seen such grand provision for
war. Then, in other caverns, there were long rows of
horsemen armed to the teeth, with lances raised and
banners unfurled all ready for the field ; but they all sat
motionless in their saddles like so many statues. In other
halls were warriors sleeping on the ground beside their
horses, and foot-soldiers in groups ready to fall into the
ranks. All were in old-fashioned Moorish dresses and
armour.

" Well, your excellency, to cut a long story short, we
at length entered an immense cavern, or I may say palace,
of grotto work, the walls of which seemed to be veined
with gold and silver, and to sparkle with diamonds and
sapphires and all kinds of precious stones. At the upper
end sat a Moorish king on a golden throne, with his
nobles on each side, and a guard of African blacks with
drawn scimitars. All the crowd that continued to flock
in, and amounted to thousands and thousands, passed one
by one before his throne, each paying homage as he passed.
Some of the multitude were dressed in magnificent robes,
without stain or blemish, and sparkling with jewels ; others
in burnished and enamelled armour ; while others were in
mouldered and mildewed garments, and in armour all
battered and dented and covered with rust.

" I had hitherto held my tongue, for your excellency
well knows, it is not for a soldier to ask many questions
when on duty, but I could keep silent no longer.

" ( Pr'ythee, comrade,' said I, ' what is the meaning of
all this?'

" c This/ said the trooper, ' is a great and fearful mys-

204 THE ALHAMBRA.

tery. Know, O Christian, that you see before you the
court and army of Boabdil the last king of Granada.'

(f f What is this you tell me?' cried I. ' Boabdil and
his court were exiled from the land hundreds of years
agone, and all died in Africa."

" ' So it is recorded in your lying chronicles,' replied
the Moor : fbut know that Boabdil and the warriors who
made the last struggle for Granada were all shut up in the
mountain by powerful enchantment. As for the king and
army that marched forth from Granada at the time of the
surrender, they were a mere phantom train, of spirits and
demons permitted to assume those shapes to deceive the
Christian sovereigns. And furthermore let me tell you,
friend, that all Spain is a country under the power of
enchantment. There is not a mountain cave, not a
lonely watch-tower in the plains, nor ruined castle on the
hills, but has some spell-bound warriors sleeping from age
to age within its vaults, until the sins are expiated for
which Allah permitted the dominion to pass for a time out
of the hands of the faithful. Once every year, on the eve
of St. John, they are released from enchantment, from sun-
set to sunrise, and permitted to repair here to pay homage
to their sovereign : and the crowds which you beheld
swarming into the cavern are Moslem warriors from their
haunts in all parts of Spain. For my own part, you saw
the ruined tower of the bridge in Old Castile, where I
have now wintered and summered for many hundred
years, and where I must be back again by daybreak. As
to the battalions of horse and foot which you beheld draw
up in array in the neighbouring caverns, they are the
spell-bound warriors of Granada. It is written in the
book of fate, that when the enchantment is broken, Boab-
dil will descend from the mountain at the head of this
army, resume his throne in the Alhambra and his sway of
Granada, and gathering together the enchanted warriors,
from all parts of Spain, will reconquer the peninsula and
restore it to Moslem rule.'

" ' And when shall this happen ? ' said I.

" ' Allah alone knows : we had hoped the day of
deliverance was at hand ; but there reigns at present a

GOVERNOR BIANCO AND THE SOLDIER. 205

vigilant governor in the Alhambra, a stanch old soldier,
well known as Governor Manco. While such a warrior
holds command of the very outpost, and stands ready
to check the first irruption from the mountain, I fear
Boabdil and his soldiery must be content to rest upon
their arms.' "

Here the governor raised himself somewhat perpendicu-
larly, adjusted his sword, and twirled up his mustachios.

" To make a long story short, and not to fatigue your
excellency, the trooper, having given me this account, dis-
mounted from his steed.

" ' Tarry here,' said he, ' and guard my steed while I
go and bow the knee to Boabdil.' So saying, he strode
away among the throng that pressed forward to the throne.

" ' What 's to be done ? ' thought I, ' when thus left to
myself; shall I wait here until this infidel returns to whisk
me off on his goblin steed, the Lord knows where ; or
shall I make the most of my time and beat a retreat from
this hobgoblin community ? ' A soldier's mind is soon
made up, as your excellency well knows. As to the horse,
he belonged to an avowed enemy of the faith and the
realm, and was a fair prize according to the rules of war.
So hoisting myself from the crupper into the saddle, I
turned the reins, struck the Moorish stirrups into the sides
of the steed, and put him to make the best of his way out
of the passage by which he had entered. As we scoured
by the halls where the Moslem horsemen sat in motionless
battalions, I thought I heard the clang of armour and a
hollow murmur of voices. I gave the steed another taste
of the stirrups and doubled my speed. There was now a
sound behind me like a rushing blast ; I heard the clatter
of a thousand hoofs : a countless throng overtook me. I
was borne along in the press, and hurled forth from the
mouth of the cavern, while thousands of shadowy forms
were swept off in every direction by the four winds of
heaven.

" In the whirl and confusion of the scene I was thrown
senseless to the earth. When I came to myself I was ly-
ing on the brow of a hill with the Arabian steed standing
beside me ; for, in falling, my arm had slipt within the

206 THE ALHAMBRA.

bridle, which, I presume, prevented his whisking off to
Old Castile.

" Your excellency may easily judge of my surprise on
looking round, to behold hedges of aloes and Indian figs and
other proofs of a southern climate, and to see a great city
below me with towers, and palaces, and a grand cathedral.

1 c I descended the hill cautiously, leading my steed, for I
was afraid to mount him again, lest he should play me some
slippery trick. As I descended I met with your patrol, who
let me into the secret that it was Granada that lay before
me ; and that I was actually under the walls of the Al-
hambra, the fortress of the redoubted Governor Manco, the
terror of all enchanted Moslems. When I heard this, I
determined at once to seek your excellency, to inform you
of all that I had seen, and to warn you of the perils that
surround and undermine you, that you may take measures
in time to guard your fortress, and the kingdom itself,
from this intestine army that lurks in the very bowels of
the land."

" And pr'ythee^ friend, you who are a veteran cam-
paigner, and have seen so much service," said the governor,
" how would you advise me to proceed, in order to pre-
vent this evil ? "

" It is not for a humble private of the ranks," said the
soldier modestly, " to pretend to instruct a commander of
your excellency's sagacity, but it appears to me that your
excellency might cause all the caves and entrances in the
mountain to be walled up with solid mason Work, so that
Boabdil and his army might be completely corked up in
their subterranean habitation. If the good father too/'
added the soldier reverently bowing to the friar, and de-
voutedly crossing himself, " would consecrate the bar-
ricadoes with his blessing, and put up a few crosses and
reliques and images of saints, I think they might withstand
all the power of infidel enchantments."

" They doubtless would be of great avail," said the
friar.

The governor now placed his arm a-kimbo with his hand
resting on the hilt of his toledo, fixed his eye upon the

GOVERNOR MANCO AND THE SOLDIER. 20?

soldier, and gently wagging his head from one side to the
other,

" So, friend," said he, " then you really suppose I am
to be gulled with this cock-and-bull story about enchanted
mountains and enchanted Moors ? Hark ye, culprit ! —
not another word. An old soldier you may be, but you'll
find you have an older soldier to deal with, and one not
easily outgeneralled. Ho ! guards there ! put this fellow
in irons."

The demure handmaid would have put in a word in
favour of the prisoner, but the governor silenced her with a
look.

As they were pinioning the soldier, one of the guards
felt something of bulk in his pocket, and drawing it forth,
found a long leathern purse that appeared to be well filled.
Holding it by one corner, he turned out the contents upon
the table before the governor, and never did freebooter's
bag make more gorgeous delivery. Out tumbled rings,
and jewels, and rosaries of pearls, and sparkling diamond
crosses, and a profusion of ancient golden coin, some of
which fell jingling to the floor, and rolled away to the
uttermost parts of the chamber.

For a time the functions of justice were suspended ;
there was an universal scramble after the glittering fu-
gitives. The governor alone, who was imbued with true
Spanish pride, maintained his stately decorum, though his
eye betrayed a little anxiety until the last coin and jewel
were restored to the sack.

The friar was not so calm ; his whole face glowed like
a furnace, and his eyes twinkled and flashed at sight
of the rosaries and crosses.

<c Sacrilegious wretch that thou art!" exclaimed he;
" what church or sanctuary hast thou been plundering
of these sacred relics ? "

" Neither one nor the other, holy father. If they
be sacrilegious spoils, they must have been taken in times
long past, by the infidel trooper I have mentioned. I was
just going to tell his excellency when he interrupted me,
that, on taking possession of the trooper's horse, I un-
hooked a leathern sack which hung at the saddle-bow, and

208 THE ALHAMBBA.

which I presume contained the plunder of his campaign-
ings in days of old, when the Moors overran the country."

" Mighty well ; at present you will make up your mind
to take up your quarters in a chamber of the vermilion
tower, which, though not under a magic spell, will hold
you as safe as any cave of your enchanted Moors."

" Your excellency will do as you think proper," said
the prisoner coolly. " I shall be thankful to your ex-
cellency for any accommodation in the fortress.' A soldier
who has been in the wars, as your excellency well knows,
is not particular about his lodgings : provided I have
a snug dungeon and regular rations, I shall manage to
make myself comfortable. I would only entreat that while
your excellency is so careful about me, you would have an
eye to your fortress, and think on the hint I dropped about
stopping up the entrances to the mountain."

Here ended the scene. The prisoner was conducted to
a strong dungeon in the vermilion tower, the Arabian steed
was led to his excellency's stable, and the trooper's sack
was deposited in his excellency's strong box. To the
latter, it is true, the friar made some demur, questioning
whether the sacred relics, which were evidently sacri-
legious spoils, should not be placed in custody of the
church ; but as the governor was peremptory on the sub-
ject, and was absolute lord in the Alhambra, the friar
discreetly dropped the discussion, but determined to con-
vey intelligence of the fact to the church dignitaries in
Granada.

To explain these prompt and rigid measures on the part
of old Governor Manco, it is proper to observe, that about
this time the Alpuxarra mountains in the neighbourhood
of Granada were terribly infested by a gang of robbers,
under the command of a daring chief, named Manuel
Borasco, who were accustomed to prowl about the country,
and even to enter the city in various disguises, to gain
intelligence of the departure of convoys of merchandise, or
travellers with well-lined purses, whom they took care to
waylay in distant and solitary passes of their road. These
repeated and daring outrages had awakened the attention
of government, and the commanders of the various posts

GOVERNOR MANCO AND THE SOLDIER. 209

had received instructions to be on the alert,, and to take
up all suspicious stragglers. Governor Manco was par-
ticularly zealous in consequence of the various stigmas that
had been cast upon his fortress, and he now doubted not
that he had entrapped some formidable desperado of this
gang.

In the mean time the story took wind, and became
the talk, not merely of the fortress, but of the whole city
of Granada. It was said that the noted robber Manuel
Borasco, the terror of the Alpuxarras, had fallen into the
clutches of old Governor Manco, and been cooped up
by him in a dungeon of the vermilion tower ; and every
one who had been robbed by him flocked to recognise the
marauder. The vermilion towers, as is well known, stand
apart from the Alhambra on a sister hill, separated from
the main fortress by the ravine down which passes the
main avenue. There were no outer walls, but a sentinel
patrolled before the tower. The window of the chamber
in which the soldier was confined was strongly grated,
and looked upon a small esplanade. Here the good folks
of Granada repaired to gaze at him, as they would at a
laughing hyena, grinning through the cage of a menagerie.
Nobody, however, recognised him for Manuel Borasco; for
that terrible robber was noted for a ferocious physiognomy,
and had by no means the good-humoured squint of the
prisoner. Visitors came not merely from the city, but
from all parts of the country ; but nobody knew him,
and there began to be doubts in the minds of the com-
mon people whether there might not be some truth in his
story. That Boabdil and his army were shut up in the
mountain, was an old tradition which many of the ancient
inhabitants had heard from their fathers. Numbers went
up to the mountain of the sun, or rather of St. Elena, in
search of the cave mentioned by the soldier ; and saw and
peeped into the deep dark pit, descending, no one knows
how far, into the mountain, and which remains there
to this day — the fabled entrance to the subterranean abode
of Boabdil.

By degrees the soldier became popular with the common
people. A freebooter of the mountains is by no means the

210 THE ALHAMBHA.

opprobrious character in Spain that a robber is in any
other country : on the contrary, he is a kind of chivalrous
personage in the eyes of the lower classes. There is
always a disposition, also, to cavil at the conduct of those
in command; and many began to murmur at the high-
handed measures of old Governor Manco, and to look upon
the prisoner in the light of a martyr.

The soldier, moreover, was a merry, waggish fellow,
that had a joke for every one who came near his window,
and a soft speech for every female. He had procured an
old guitar also, and would sit by his window and sing
ballads and love ditties, to the delight of the women of the
neighbourhood, who would assemble on the esplanade
in the evenings and dance boleros to his music. Having
trimmed off his rough beard, his sunburnt face found
favour in the eyes of the fair ; and the demure handmaid
of the governor declared that his squint was perfectly
irresistible. This kind-hearted damsel had, from the first,
evinced a deep sympathy in his fortunes, and having in
vain tried to mollify the governor, had set to work pri-
vately to mitigate the rigour of his dispensations. Every
day she brought the prisoner some crumbs of comfort
which had fallen from the governor's table, or been abs-
tracted from his larder, together with, now and then,
a consoling bottle of choice Val de Pefias, or rich Malaga.

While this petty treason was going on, in the very
centre of the old governor's citadel, a storm of open war
was brewing up among his external foes. The circum-
stance of a bag of gold and jewels having been found upon
the person of the supposed robber had been reported, with
many exaggerations, in Granada. A question of territorial
jurisdiction >was immediately started by the governor's in-
veterate rival, the captain general. He insisted that the
prisoner had been captured without the precincts of the
Alhambra, and within the rules of his authority. He de-
manded his body therefore, and the spolia opima taken
with him. Due information having been carried likewise
by the friar to the grand Inquisitor of the crosses and
rosaries, and other reliques contained in the bag, he claimed
the culprit as having been guilty of sacrilege, and insisted

GOVERNOR MANGO AND THE SOLDIER. 211

that his plunder was due to the church, and his body to
the next auto da fe. The feuds ran high, the governor
was furious, and swore, rather than surrender his captive,
he would hang him up within the Alhambra, as a spy
caught within the purlieus of the fortress.

The captain general threatened to send a body of sol-
diers to transfer the prisoner from the vermilion tower to
the city. The grand Inquisitor was equally bent upon
despatching a number of the familiars of the Holy Office.
Word was brought late at night to the governor of these
machinations. " Let them come," said he, " they'll find
me beforehand with them ; he must rise bright and early
who would take in an old soldier." He accordingly issued
orders to have the prisoner removed at daybreak, to the
donjon keep within the walls of the Alhambra. " And
d'ye hear, child," said he to his demure handmaid, " tap
at my door, and wake me before cock-crowing, that I may
see to the matter myself."

The day dawned, the cock crowed, but nobody tapped
at the door of the governor. The sun rose high above the
mountain tops, and glittered in at his casement, ere the
governor was wakened from his morning dreams by his
veteran corporal, who stood before him with terror stamped
upon his iron visage.

" He's off! he's gone !" cried the corporal, gasping for
breath.

" Who's off — who's gone ? "

' ' The soldier — the robber — the devil, for aught I
know; his dungeon is empty, but the door locked, — no one
knows how he has escaped out of it."

" Who saw him last ? "

" Your handmaid, she brought him his supper."

" Let her be called instantly."

Here was new matter of confusion. The chamber of
the demure damsel was likewise empty, her bed had not
been slept in : she had doubtless gone off with the culprit,
as she had appeared, for some days past, to have frequent
conversations with him.

This was wounding the old governor in a tender part;
but he had scarce time to wince at it, when new misfor-
p 2

212 THE ALHAMBRA.

tunes broke upon his view. On going into his cabinet he
found his strong box open, the leather purse of the trooper
abstracted, and with it, a couple of corpulent bags of doub-
loons.

But how, and which way, had the fugitives escaped ?
An old peasant who lived in a cottage by the road-side,
leading up into the Sierra, declared that he had heard the
tramp of a powerful steed just before daybreak, passing
up into the mountains. He had looked out at his case-
ment, and could just distinguish a horseman, with a female
seated before him.

ic Search the stables ! " cried Governor Manco. The
stables were searched ; all the horses were in their stalls,
excepting the Arabian steed. In his place was a stout cudgel
tied to the manger, and on it a label bearing these words,
" A gift to Governor Manco, from an Old Soldier."

LEGEND OF THE TWO DISCREET
STATUES.

THERE lived once in a waste apartment of the Alhambra
a merry little fellow, named Lope Sanchez, who worked in
the gardens, and was as brisk and blithe as a grasshopper,
singing all day long. He was the life and soul of the for-
tress ; when his work was over, he would sit on one of the
stone benches of the esplanade, and strum his guitar, and
sing long ditties about the Cid, and Bernardo del Carpio, (
and Fernando del Pulgar, and other Spanish heroes, for the
amusement of the old soldiers of the fortress, or would
strike up a merrier tune, and set the girls dancing boleros
and fandangos.

Like most little men, Lope Sanchez had a strapping
buxom dame for a wife, who could almost have put him in
her pocket ; but he lacked the usual poor man's lot — in-

LEGEND OF THE TWO DISCREET STATUES.

213

stead of ten children he had but one. This was a little
black-eyed girl about twelve years of age, named Sanchica,
who was as merry as himself, and the delight of his heart.
She played about him as he worked in the gardens, danced
to his guitar as he sat in the shade, and ran as wild as a
young fawn about the groves and alleys and ruined halls of
the Alhambra.

It was now the eve of the blessed St. John, and the
holiday-loving gossips of the Alhambra, men, women, and
children, went up at night to the mountain of the sun,
which rises above the Generalife, to keep their midsummer
vigil on its level summit. It was a bright moonlight night,
and all the mountains were grey and silvery, and the city,
with its domes and spires, lay in shadows below, and the
Vega was like a fairy land, with haunted streams gleaming
among its dusky groves. On the highest part of the
mountain they lit up a bonfire, according to an old custom
of the country handed down from the Moors. The in-
habitants of the surrounding country were keeping a
similar vigil, and bonfires, here and there in the Vega,
and along the folds of the mountains, blazed up palely in
the moonlight.

The evening was gaily passed in dancing to the guitar
of Lope Sanchez, who was never so joyous as when on a
holiday revel of the kind. While the dance was going on,
the little Sanchica with some of her playmates sported
among the ruins of an old Moorish fort that crowns the
mountain, when, in gathering pebbles in the fosse, she
found a small hand curiously carved of jet, the fingers
closed, and the thumb firmly clasped upon them. Over-
joyed with her good fortune, she ran to her mother with
her prize. It immediately became a subject of sage specu-
lation, and was eyed by some with superstitious distrust.
" Throw it away," said one ; " it 's Moorish — depend
upon it there 's mischief and witchcraft in it." f< By no
means," said another ; ' c you may sell it for something to
the jewellers of the Zacatin." In the midst of this dis-
cussion an old tawny soldier drew near, who had served in
Africa, and was as swarthy as a Moor. He examined the
hand with a knowing look. (( I have seen things of this
p 3

214 THE ALHAMBRA.

kind/' said he, i( among the Moors of Barbary. It is a
great virtue to guard against the evil eye, and all kinds of
spells and enchantments. I give you joy, friend Lope ;
this bodes good luck to your child."

Upon hearing this, the wife of Lope Sanchez tied the
little hand of jet to a riband, and hung it round the neck
of her daughter.

The sight of this talisman called up all the favourite
superstitions about the Moors. The dance was neglected,
and they sat in groups on the ground, telling old legendary
tales, handed down from their ancestors. Some of their
stories turned upon the wonders of the very mountain upon
which they were seated, which is a famous hobgoblin re-
gion. One ancient crone gave a long account of the sub-
terranean palace in the bowels of that mountain where
Boabdil and all his Moslem court are said to remain en-
chanted. cc Among yonder ruins," said she, pointing to
some crumbling walls and mounds of earth on a distant
part of the mountain, " there is a deep black pit that goes
down, down into the very heart of the mountain. For all
the money in Granada I would not look down into it. Once
upon a time a poor man of the Alhambra, who tended goats
upon this mountain, scrambled down into that pit after a
kid that had fallen in. He came out again all wild and
staring, and told such things of what he had seen, that
every one thought his brain was turned. He raved for a
day or two about the hobgoblin Moors that had pursued
him in the cavern, and could hardly be persuaded to drive
his goats up again to the mountain. He did so at last,
but, poor man, he never came down again. The neigh-
bours found his goats browsing about the Moorish ruins,
and his hat and mantle lying near the mouth of the pit,
but he was never more heard of."

The little Sanchica listened with breathless attention to
this story. She was of a curious nature, and felt imme-
diately a great hankering to peep into this dangerous pit.
Stealing away from her companions, she sought the distant
ruins, and after groping for some time among them came
to a small hollow, or basin, near the brow of the moun-
tain, where it swept steeply down into the valley of the

LEGEND OP THE TWO DISCREET STATUES. 215

Darro. In the centre of this basin yawned the mouth of
the pit. Sanchica ventured to the verge, and peeped in.
All was black as pitch, and gave an idea of immeasurable
depth. Her blood ran cold ; she drew back, then peeped
again, then would have run away, then took another peep

— the very horror of the thing was delightful to her. At
length she rolled a large stone, and pushed it over the
brink. For some time it fell in silence ; then struck some
rocky projection with a violent crash, then rebounded from
side to side, rumbling and tumbling, with a noise like
thunder, then made a final splash into water, far, far below

— and all was again silent.

The silence, however, did not long continue, It seemed
as if something had been awakened within this dreary
abyss. A murmuring sound gradually rose out of the pit
like the hum and buzz of a beehive. It grew louder and
louder ; there was the confusion of voices as of a distant
multitude, together with the faint din of arms, clash of
cymbals, and clangour of trumpets, as if some army were
marshalling for battle in the very bowels of the mountain.

The child drew off with silent awe, and hastened back
to the place where she had left her parents and their com-
panions. All were gone. The bonfire was expiring, and
its last wreath of smoke curling up in the moonshine. The
distant fires that had blazed along the mountains and in
the Vega were all extinguished, and every thing seemed to
have sunk to repose. Sanchica called her parents and some
of her companions by name, but received no reply. She
ran down the side of the mountain, and by the gardens
of the Generalife, until she arrived in the alley of trees
leading to the Alhambra, when she seated herself on a
bench of a woody recess to recover breath. The bell from
the watch-tower of the Alhambra tolled midnight. There
was a deep tranquillity, as if all nature slept ; excepting
the low tinkling sound of an unseen stream that ran under
the covert of the bushes. The breathing sweetness of the
atmosphere was lulling her to sleep, when her eye was
caught by something glittering at a distance ; and to her
surprise she beheld a long cavalcade of Moorish warriors
pouring dpwn the mountain side, and along the leafy
p 4

216 THE ALHAMBRA.

avenues. Some were armed with lances and shields ;
others with scimitars and battle-axes, and with polished
cuirasses that flashed in the moonbeams. Their horses
pranced proudly, and champed upon their hits, but their
tramp caused no more sound than if they had been shod
with felt; and the riders were all as pale as death. Among
them rode a beautiful lady with a crowned head and long
golden locks entwined with pearls. The housings of her
palfry were of crimson velvet, embroidered with gold, and
swept the earth ; but she rode all disconsolate, with eyes
ever fixed upon the ground.

Then succeeded a train of courtiers, magnificently ar-
rayed in robes and turbans of divers colours, and amidst
them, on a cream-coloured charger, rode King Boabdil el
Chico, in a royal mantle, covered with jewels, and a crown
sparkling with diamonds. The little Sanchica knew him by
his yellow beard, and his resemblance to his portrait, which
she had often seen in the picture gallery of the Generalife.
She gazed in wonder and admiration at this royal pageant,
as it passed glistening among the trees ; but though she
knew these monarchs, and courtiers, and warriors, so pale
and silent, were out of the common course of nature, and
things of magic and enchantment, yet she looked on with
a bold heart, such courage did she derive from the mystic
talisman of the hand, which was suspended about her neck.

The cavalcade having passed by, she rose and followed.
It continued on to the great gate of justice, which stood
wide open ; the old invalid sentinels on duty lay on the
stone benches of the barbican, buried in profound and ap-
parently charmed sleep, and the phantom pageant swept
noiselessly by them with flaunting banner and triumphant
state. Sanchica would have followed ; but to her surprise
she beheld an opening in the earth, within the barbican,
leading down beneath the foundations of the tower. She
entered for a little distance, and was encouraged to proceed
by finding steps rudely hewn in the rock, and a vaulted
passage here and there lit up by a silver lamp, which,
while it gave light, diffused likewise a grateful fragrance.
Venturing on, she came at last to a great hall, wrought
out of the heart of the mountain, magnificently furnished

LEGEND OF THE TWO DISCREET STATUES. 217

in the Moorish style, and lighted up by silver and crystal
lamps. Here, on an ottoman, sat an old man in Moorish
dress, with a long white beard, nodding and dozing,
with a staff in his hand, which seemed ever to be slipping
from his grasp ; while at a little distance sat a beau-
tiful lady, in ancient Spanish dress, with a coronet all
sparkling with diamonds, and her hair entwined with pearls,
who was softly playing on a silver lyre. The little San-
chica now recollected a story she had heard among the old
people of the Alhambra, concerning a Gothic princess con-
fined in the centre of the mountain by an old Arabian ma-
gician, whom she kept bound up in magic sleep by the
power of music.

The lady paused with surprise at seeing a mortal in that
enchanted hall. " Is it the eve of the blessed St. John ? "
said she.

" It is," replied Sanchica.

" Then for one night the magic charm is suspended.
Come hither, child, and fear not. I am a Christian like
thyself, though bound here by enchantment. Touch my
fetters with the talisman that hangs about thy neck, and
for this night I shall be free."

So saying, she opened her robes and displayed a broad
golden band round her waist, and a golden chain that
fastened her to the ground. The child hesitated not to
apply the little hand of jet to the golden band, and imme-
diately the chain fell to the earth. At the sound the old
man woke and began to rub his eyes; but the lady ran
her fingers over the chords of the lyre, and again he fell
into a slumber, and began to nod, and his staff to falter in
his hand. " Now," said the lady, " touch his staff with the
talismanic hand of jet." The child did so, and it fell
from his grasp, and he sunk in a deep sleep on the otto-
man. The lady gently laid the silver lyre on the ottoman,
leaning it against the head of the sleeping magician ; then
touching the chords until they vibrated in his ear — ff O
potent spirit of harmony," said she, " continue thus to
hold his senses in thraldom till the return of day. Now
follow me, my child," continued she, " and thou shalt
behold the Alhambra as it was in the days of its glory, for

218 THE ALHAMBRA.

hast a magic talisman that reveals all enchantments."
Sanchica followed the lady in silence. They passed up
through the entrance of the cavern into the barbican of the
gate of justice, and thence to the Plaza de los Algibes, or
esplanade within the fortress. This was all filled with
Moorish soldiery, horse and foot, marshalled in squadrons,
with banners displayed. There were royal guards also at
the portal, and rows of African blacks with drawn sci-
mitars. No one spake a word, and Sanchica passed on
fearlessly after her conductor. Her astonishment increased
on entering the royal palace, in which she had been reared.
The broad moonshine lit up all the halls, and courts, and
gardens, almost as brightly as if it were day, but revealed
a far different scene from that to which she was accustomed.
The walls of the apartments were no longer stained and
rent by time. Instead of cobwebs, they were now hung
with rich silks of Damascus, and the gildings and arabesque
paintings were restored to their original brilliancy and
freshness. The halls, instead of being naked and unfur-
nished, were set out with divans and ottomans of the rarest
stuffs, embroidered with pearls, and studded with precious
gems ; and all the fountains in the courts and gardens were
playing.

The kitchens were again in full operation; cooks were
busy preparing shadowy dishes, and roasting and boiling the
phantoms of pullets and partridges ; servants were hurry-
ing to and fro with silver dishes heaped up with dainties,
and arranging a delicious banquet. The Court of Lions
was thronged with guards, and courtiers, and alfaquis, as
in the old times of the Moors ; and at the upper end, in
the saloon of judgment, sat Boabdil on his throne, sur-
rounded by his court, and swaying a shadowy sceptre for the
night. Notwithstanding all this throng and seeming bustle,
not a voice nor a footstep was to be heard ; nothing inter-
rupted the midnight silence but the splashing of the fountains.
The little Sanchica followed her conductress in mute amaze-
ment about the palace, until they came to a portal opening
to the vaulted passages beneath the great tower of Comares.
On each side of the portal sat the figure of a nymph,
wrought out of alabaster. Their heads were turned aside,

LEGEND OF THE TWO DISCREET STATUES. 219

and their regards fixed upon the same spot within the
vault. The enchanted lady paused, and beckoned the child
to her. " Here," said she, " is a great secret, which I
will reveal to thee in reward for thy faith and courage.
These discreet statues watch over a treasure hidden in old
times by a Moorish king. Tell thy father to search the
spot on which their eyes are fixed, and he will find .what
will make him richer than any man in Granada. Thy
innocent hands alone, however, gifted as thou art also with
the talisman, can remove the treasure. Bid thy father use
it discreetly, and devote a part of it to the performance of
daily masses for my deliverance from this unholy enchant-
ment."

Wken the lady had spoken these words, she led the
child onward to the little garden of Lindaraxa, which is
hard by the vault of the statues. The moon trembled
upon the waters of the solitary fountain in the centre of
the garden, and shed a tender light upon the orange and
citron trees. The beautiful lady plucked a branch of
myrtle, and wreathed it round the head of the child. " Let
this be a memento," said she, " of what I have revealed
to thee, and a testimonial of its truth. My hour is come
— I must return to the enchanted hall ; follow me not,
lest evil befal thee — farewell. Remember what I have
said, and have masses performed for my deliverance." So
saying, the lady entered a dark passage leading beneath the
tower of Comares, and was no longer seen.

The faint crowing of a cock was now heard from the
cottages below the Alhambra, in the valley of the Darro,
and a pale streak of light began to appear above the eastern
mountains. A slight wind arose, there was a sound like
the rustling of dry leaves through the courts and corridors,
and door after door shut to with a jarring sound.

Sanchica returned to the scenes she had so lately beheld
thronged with the shadowy multitude, but Boabdil and his
phantom court were gone. The moon shone into empty
halls and galleries stripped of their transient splendour,
stained and dilapidated by time, and hung with cobwebs.
The bat flitted about in the uncertain light, and the frog
croaked from the fish-pond.

220 THE ALHAMBRA.

Sanchica now made the best of her way to a remote
staircase that led up to the humble apartment occupied by
her family. The door as usual was open, for Lope San-
chez was too poor to need bolt or bar ; she crept quietly to
her pallet, and, putting the myrtle wreath beneath her
pillow, soon fell asleep.

In the morning she related all that had befallen her to
her father. Lope Sanchez, however, treated the whole as
a mere dream, and laughed at the child for her credulity.
He went forth to his customary labours in the garden, but
had not been there long when his little daughter came run-
ning to him almost breathless. " Father ! father ! " cried
she, " behold the myrtle wreath which the Moorish lady
bound round my head."

Lope Sanchez gazed with astonishment, for the stalk of
the myrtle was of pure gold, and every leaf was a spark-
ling emerald ! Being not much accustomed to precious
stones, he was ignorant of the real value of the wreath,
but he saw enough to convince him that it was something
more substantial than the stuff that dreams are generally
made of, and that at any rate the child had dreamt to some
purpose. His first care was to enjoin the most absolute
secrecy upon his daughter ; in this respect, however, he
was secure, for she had discretion far beyond her years or
sex. He then repaired to the vault, where stood the
statues of the two alabaster nymphs. He remarked that
their heads were turned from the portal, and that the re-
gards of each were fixed upon the same point in the interior
of the building. Lope Sanchez could not but admire this
most discreet contrivance for guarding a secret. He drew
a line from the eyes of the statues to the point of regard,
made a private mark on the wall, and then retired.

All day, however, the mind of Lope Sanchez was dis-
tracted with a thousand cares. He could not help hovering
within distant view of the two statues, and became nervous
from the dread that the golden secret might be discovered.
Every footstep that approached the place made him trem-
ble. He would have given anything could he but have
turned the heads of the statues, forgetting that they had

.

looked pre

LEGEND OP THE TWO DISCREET STATUES. 221

looked precisely in the same direction ^br some hundreds
of years, without any person being the wiser.

" A plague upon them/' he would say to himself,
" they '11 betray all ; did ever mortal hear of such a mode
of guarding a secret ? " Then on hearing any one ad-
vance, he would steal off, as though his very lurking near
the place would awaken suspicions. Then he would re-
turn cautiously, and peep from a distance to see if every
thing was secure; but the sight of the statues would again
call forth his indignation. " Aye, there they stand,"
would he say, ' ' always looking, and looking, and looking,
just where they should not. Confound them ! they are
just like all their sex ; if they have not tongues to tattle
with, they '11 be sure to do it with their eyes."

At length, to his relief, the long anxious day drew to a
close. The sound of footsteps was no longer heard in the
echoing halls of the Alhambra ; the last stranger passed
the threshold, the great portal was barred and bolted, and
the bat and the frog, and the hooting owl gradually resumed
their nightly vocations in the deserted palace.

Lope Sanchez waited, however, until the night was far
advanced before he ventured with his little daughter to the
hall of the two nymphs. He found them looking as know-
ingly and mysteriously as ever at the secret place of depo-
sit. " By your leaves, gentle ladies," thought Lope
Sanchez, as he passed between them, " I will relieve you
from this charge, that must have set so heavy in your
minds for the last two or three centuries." He accord-
ingly went to work at the part of the wall which he had
marked, and in a little while laid open a concealed recess,
in which stood two great jars of porcelain. He attempted
to draw them forth, but they were immoveable, until
touched by the innocent hand of his little daughter. With
her aid he dislodged them from their niche, and found, to
his great joy, that they were filled with pieces of Moorish
gold, mingled with jewels and precious stones. Before
daylight he managed to convey them to his chamber, and
left the two guardian statues with their eyes still fixed on
the vacant wall.

Lope Sanchez had thus on a sudden become a rich man ;

222 THE ALHAMBRA.

but riches, as usual, brought a world of cares to which he
had hitherto been a stranger. How was he to convey away
his wealth with safety ? How was he even to enter upon
the enjoyment of it without awakening suspicion ? Now,
too, for the first time in his life the dread of robbers en-
tered into his mind. He looked with terror at the inse-
curity of his habitation, and went to work to barricado the
doors and windows ; yet after all his precautions he could
not sleep soundly. His usual gaiety was at an end, he had
no longer a joke or a song for his neighbours, and, in short,
became the most miserable animal in the Alhambra. His
old comrades remarked this alteration; pitied him heartily,
and began to desert him ; thinking he must be falling into
want, and in danger of looking to them for assistance.
Little did they suspect that his only calamity was riches.

The wife of Lope Sanchez shared his anxiety, but then
she had ghostly comfort. We ought before this to have
mentioned that Lope, being rather a light inconsiderate
little man, his wife was accustomed, in all grave matters,
to seek the counsel and ministry of her confessor, Fray
Simon, a sturdy broad-shouldered, blue-bearded, bullet-
headed friar of the neighbouring convent of San Francisco,
who was in fact the spiritual comforter of half the good
wives of the neighbourhood. He was moreover in great
esteem among divers sisterhoods of nuns ; who requited
him for his ghostly services by frequent presents of those
little dainties and knick-knacks manufactured in convents,
such as delicate confections, sweet biscuits, and bottles of
spiced cordials, found to be marvellous restoratives after
fasts and vigils.

Fray Simon thrived in the exercise of his functions.
His oily skin glistened in the sunshine as he toiled up the
hill of the Alhambra on a sultry day. Yet notwithstand-
ing his sleek condition, the knotted rope round his waist
showed the austerity of his self-discipline ; the multitude
doffed their caps to him as a mirror of piety, and even the
dogs scented the odour of sanctity that exhaled from his
garments, and howled from their kennels as he passed.

Such was Fray Simon, the spiritual counsellor of the
comely wife of Lope Sanchez ; and as the father confessor

LEGEND OF THE TWO DISCREET STATUES.

223

is the domestic confidant of woman in humble life in Spain,
he was soon made acquainted, in great secrecy, with the
story of the hidden treasure.

The friar opened eyes and mouth and crossed him-
self a dozen times at the news. After a moment's pause,
" Daughter of my soul ! " said he, " know that thy
husband has committed a double sin — a sin against both
state and church ! The treasure he hath thus seized upon
for himself, being found in the royal domains, belongs of
course to the crown ; but being infidel wealth, rescued as
it were from the very fangs of Satan, should be devoted to
the church. Still, however, the matter may be accom.
modated. Bring hither the myrtle wreath."

When the good father beheld it, his eyes twinkled more
than ever with admiration of the size and beauty of the
emeralds. " This," said he, " being the first-fruits of
this discovery, should be dedicated to pious purposes. I
will hang it up as a votive offering before the image of
San Francisco in our chapel, and will earnestly pray to
him, this very night, that your husband be permitted to
remain in quiet possession of your wealth."

The good dame was delighted to make her peace with
heaven at so cheap a rate, and the friar, putting the wreath
under his mantle, departed with saintly steps toward his
convent.

When Lope Sanchez came home, his wife told him
what had passed. He was excessively provoked, for he
lacked his wife's devotion, and had for some time groaned in
secret at the domestic visitations of the friar. " Woman,"
said he, " what hast thou done ? thou hast put every thing
at hazard by thy tattling."

"What!" cried the good woman, "would you forbid
my disburdening my conscience to my confessor?"

fc No, wife ! confess as many of your own sins as you
please ; but as to this money-digging, it is a sin of my
own, and my conscience is very easy under the weight
of it."

There was no use, however, in complaining ; the secret
was told, and, like water spilled on the sand, was not

THE ALHAMBRA.

again to be gathered. Their only chance was, that the
friar would be discreet.

" The next day, while Lope Sanchez was abroad, there
was a humble knocking at the door, and Fray Simon en-
tered with meek and demure countenance."

f ( Daughter, " said he, " I have prayed earnestly to
San Francisco, and he has heard my prayer. In the dead
of the night the saint appeared to me in a dream, but with
a frowning aspect. ' Why,' said he, ' dost thou pray to
me to dispense with this treasure of the Gentiles, when
thou seest the poverty of my chapel ? Go to the house of
Lope Sanchez, crave in my name a portion of the Moorish
gold, to furnish two candlesticks for the main altar, and
let him possess the residue in peace.' "

When the good woman heard of this vision, she crossed
herself with awe, and going to the secret place where
Lope had hid the treasure, she filled a great leathern purse
with pieces of Moorish gold, and gave it to the friar. The
pious monk bestowed upon her, in return, benedictions
enough, if paid by Heaven, to enrich her race to the latest
posterity ; then slipping the purse into the sleeve of his
habit, he folded his hands upon his breast, and departed
with an air of humble thankfulness.

When Lope Sanchez heard of this second donation to
the church, he had well nigh lost his senses. <( Unfortu-
nate man," cried he, " what will become of me ? I shall
be robbed by piecemeal ; I shall be ruined and brought to
beggary ! "

It was with the utmost difficulty that his wife could
pacify him, by reminding him of the countless wealth that
yet remained, and how considerate it was for San Francisco
to rest contented with so very small a portion.

Unluckily, Fray Simon had a number of poor relations
to be provided for, not to mention some half-dozen sturdy
bullet-headed orphan children, and destitute foundlings
that he had taken under his care. He repeated his visits,
therefore, from day to day, with solicitations on behalf of
Saint Dominick, Saint Andrew, Saint James, until poor
Lope was driven to despair, and found that, unless he got
out of the reach of this holy friar, he should have to make

LEGEND OP THE TWO DISCREET STATUES. 225

peace offerings to every saint in the calendar. He de-
termined, therefore, to pack up his remaining wealth, beat
a secret retreat in the night, and make off to another part
of the kingdom.

Full of his project, he bought a stout mule for the
purpose, and tethered it in a gloomy vault underneath the
tower of the seven floors ; the very place from whence the
Belludo, or goblin horse, is said to issue forth at midnight,
and scour the streets of Granada, pursued by a pack of
hell-hounds. Lope Sanchez had little faith in the story,
but availed himself of the dread occasioned by it, knowing
that no one would be likely to pry into the subterranean
stable of the phantom steed. He sent off his family in
the course of the day, with orders to wait for him at a
distant village of the Vega. As the night advanced, he
conveyed his treasure to the vault under the tower, and
having loaded his mule, he led it forth, and cautiously
descended the dusky avenue.

Honest Lope had taken his measures with the utmost
secrecy, imparting them to no one but the faithful wife of
his bosom. By some miraculous revelation, however, they
became known to Fray Simon. The zealous friar beheld
these infidel treasures on the point of slipping for ever out
of his grasp, and determined to have one more dash at
them for the benefit of the church and San Francisco.
Accordingly, when the bells had rung for animas, and all
the Alhambra was quiet, he stole out of his convent, and,
descending through the gate of justice, concealed himself
among the thickets of roses and laurels that border the
great avenue. Here he remained, counting the quarters
of hours as they were sounded on the bell of the watch
tower, and listening to the dreary hootings of owls, and the
distant barking of dogs from the gypsy caverns.

At length he heard the tramp of hoofs, and, through
the gloom of the overshadowing trees, imperfectly beheld
a steed descending the avenue. The sturdy friar chuckled
at the idea of the knowing turn he was about to serve
honest Lope.

Tucking up the skirts of his habit, and wriggling like a
Q

226 THE ALHAMBRA.

cat watching a mouse, he waited until his prey was directly
before him, when darting forth from his leafy covert, and
putting one hand on the shoulder and the other on the
crupper, he made a vault that would not have disgraced
the most experienced master of equitation, and alighted
well-forked astride the steed. " A ha ! " said the sturdy
friar, " we shall now see who hest understands the game."
He had scarce uttered the words when the mule began to
kick, and rear, and plunge, and then set off full speed
down the hill. The friar attempted to check him, but in
vain. He bounded from rock to rock, and bush to bush ;
the friar's habit was torn to ribands and fluttered in the
wind, his shaven poll received many a hard knock from
the branches of the trees, and many a scratch from the
brambles. To add to his terror and distress, he found a
pack of seven hounds in full cry at his heels, and per-
ceived too late, that he was actually mounted upon the
terrible Belludo !

Away then they went, according to the ancient phrase,
"pull devil, pull friar," down the great avenue, across the
Plaza Nueva, along the Zacatin, around the Vivarrambla —
never did huntsman and hound make a more furious run,
or more infernal uproar. In vain did the friar invoke
every saint in the calendar, and the holy virgin into the
bargain ; every time he mentioned a name of the kind it
was like a fresh application of the spur, and made the
Belludo bound as high as a house. Through the remainder
of the night was the unlucky Fray Simon carried hither
and thither, and whither he would not, until every bone in
his body ached, and he suffered a loss of leather too
grievous to be mentioned. At length the crowing of a
cock gave the signal of returning day. At the sound the
goblin steed wheeled about, and galloped back for his
tower. Again he scoured the Vivarrambla, the Zacatin,
the Plaza Nueva, and the avenue of fountains, the seven
dogs yelling, and barking, and leaping up, and snapping at
the heels of the terrified friar. The first streak of day
had just appeared as they reached the tower; here the
goblin steed kicked up his heels, sent the friar a somerset
through the air, plunged into the dark vault followed by

LEGEND OF THE TWO DISCREET STATUES. 227

the infernal pack, and a profound silence succeeded to the
late deafening clamour.

Was ever so diabolical a trick played off upon a holy
friar ? A peasant going to his labours at early dawn
found the unfortunate Fray Simon lying under a fig-tree
at the foot of the tower, but so bruised and bedevilled that
he could neither speak nor move. He was conveyed with
all care and tenderness to his cell, and the story went that
he had been waylaid and maltreated by robbers. A day
or two elapsed before he recovered the use of his limbs ;
he consoled himself, in the mean time, with the thoughts,
that though the mule with the treasure had escaped him,,
he had previously had some rare pickings at the infidel
spoils. His first care on being able to use his limbs, was
to search beneath his pallet, where he had secreted the
myrtle wreath and the leathern pouches of gold ex-
tracted from the piety of dame Sanchez. What was his
dismay at finding the wreath, in effect, but a withered
branch of myrtle, and the leathern pouches filled with
sand and gravel !

Fray Simon, with all his chagrin, had the discretion to
hold his tongue ; for to betray the secret might draw on
him the ridicule of the public, and the punishment of his
superior : it was not until many years afterwards, on his
death-bed, that he revealed to his confessor his nocturnal
ride on the Belludo.

Nothing was heard of Lope Sanchez for a long time
after his disappearance from the Alhambra. His memory
was always cherished as that of a merry companion,
though it was feared, from the care and melancholy ob-
served in his conduct shortly before his mysterious de-
parture, that poverty and distress had driven him to some
extremity. Some years afterwards one of his old com-
panions, an invalid soldier, being at Malaga, was knocked
down and nearly run over by a coach and six. The
carriage stopped ; an old gentleman magnificently dressed,
with a bag wig and sword, stepped out to assist the poor
invalid. What was the astonishment of the latter to
behold in this grand cavalier his old friend Lope Sanchez^
Q 2

228 THE ALHAMBRA.

who was actually celebrating the marriage of his daughter
Sanchica with one of the first grandees in the land.

The carriage contained the bridal party. There was
dame Sanchez, now grown as round as a barrel, and
dressed out with feathers and jewels, and necklaces of
pearls, and necklaces of diamonds, and rings on every
finger, and altogether a finery of apparel that had not been
seen since the days of Queen Sheba. The little Sanchica
had now grown to be a woman, and for grace and beauty
might have been mistaken for a duchess, if not a princess
outright. The bridegroom sat beside her — rather a
withered, spindle-shanked little man, but this only proved
him to be of the true blue blood, a legitimate Spanish
grandee being rarely above three cubits in stature. The
match had been of the mother's making.

Riches had not spoiled the heart of honest Lope. He
kept his old comrade with him for several days ; feasted
him like a king, took him to plays and bull-fights, and at
length sent him away rejoicing, with a big bag of money
for himself, and another to be distributed among his ancient
messmates of the Alhambra.

Lope always gave out that a rich brother had died in
America and left him heir to a copper mine ; but the
shrewd gossips of the Alhambra insist that his wealth was
all derived from his having discovered the secret guarded by
the two marble nymphs of the Alhambra. It is remarked
that these very discreet statues continue, even unto the
present day, with their eyes fixed most significantly on the
same part of the wall ; which leads many to suppose there
is still some hidden treasure remaining there well worthy
the attention of the enterprising traveller. Though others,
and particularly all female visitors, regard them with great
complacency as lasting monuments of the fact that women
can keep a secret.

229

MUHAMED ABU ALHAMAR, THE FOUNDER
OF THE ALHAMBRA.

HAVING dealt so freely in the marvellous legends of the
Alhambra, I feel as if bound to give the reader a few facts
concerning its sober history, or rather the history of those
magnificent princes, its founder and finisher, to whom the
world is indebted for so beautiful and romantic an oriental
monument. To obtain these facts,, I descended from this
region of fancy and fable, where every thing is liable to
take an imaginative tint, and carried my researches among
the dusty tomes of the old Jesuits' library in the university.
This once boasted repository of erudition is now a mere
shadow of its former self, having been stripped of its
manuscripts and rarest works by the French, when masters
of Granada. Still it contains, among many ponderous
tomes of polemics of the Jesuit fathers, several curious
tracts of Spanish literature ; and, above all, a number of
those antiquated, dusty, parchment-bound chronicles, for
which I have a peculiar veneration,

In this old library I have passed many delightful hours
of quiet, undisturbed literary foraging, for the keys of the
doors and book-cases were kindly entrusted to me, and I
was left alone to rummage at my leisure — a rare indul-
gence in these sanctuaries of learning, which too often
tantalise the thirsty student with the sight of sealed foun-
tains of knowledge.

In the course of these visits I gleaned the following
particulars concerning the historical characters in question.

The Moors of Granada regarded the Alhambra as a
miracle of art, and had a tradition that the king who
founded it dealt in magic, or, at least, was versed in
alchemy, by means whereof he procured the immense sums
of gold expended in its erection. A brief view of his reign
will show the real secret of his wealth.

The name of this monarch, as inscribed on the walls of
Q 3

230 THE ALHAMBBA.

some of the apartments, was Abu Abd'allah (i. e. the
father of Abdallah), but he is commonly known in Moorish
history as Muhamed Abu Alahmar (or Mahomed, son of
Alahmar), or simply, Abu Alahmar, for the sake of brevity.
He was born in Arjona, in the year of the Hegira 591,
of the Christian era 1195, of the noble family of the
Beni Nasar, or children of Nasar ; and no expense was
spared by his parents to fit him for the high station to
which the opulence and dignity of his family entitled him.
The Saracens of Spain were greatly advanced in civilisation,
every principal city was a seat of learning and the arts, so
that it was easy to command the most enlightened in-
structors for a youth of rank and fortune. Abu Alahmar,
when he arrived at manly years, was appointed alcayde or
governor of Arjona and Jaen, and gained great popularity
by his benignity and justice. Some years afterwards, on
the death of Abou Hud, the Moorish power in Spain was
broken into factions, and many places declared for Muha-
med Abu Alahmar. Being of a sanguine spirit, and lofty
ambition, he seized upon the occasion, made a circuit
through the country, and was every where received with
acclamations. It was in the year 1238, that he entered
Granada amidst the enthusiastic shouts of the multitude.
He was proclaimed king with every demonstration of joy,
and soon became the head of the Moslems in Spain, being
the first of the illustrious line of Beni Nasar that had sat
upon the throne. His reign was such as to render him a
blessing to his subjects. He gave the command of his
various cities to such as had distinguished themselves by
valour and prudence, and who seemed most acceptable to
the people. He organised a vigilant police, and established
rigid rules for the administration of justice. The poor
and the distressed always found ready admission to his
presence, and he attended personally to their assistance and
redress. He erected hospitals for the blind, the aged, and
infirm, and all those incapable of labour, and visited them
frequently ; not on set days with pomp and form, so as to
give time for every thing to be put in order, and every
abuse concealed, but suddenly and unexpectedly, informing
himself, by actual observation and close inquiry, of the

MUHAMED ABU ALAHMAR. 231

treatment of the sick, and the conduct of those appointed
to administer to their relief. He founded schools and
colleges, which he visited in the same manner, inspecting
personally the instruction of the youth. He established
butcheries and public ovens, that the people might be
furnished with wholesome provisions at just and regular
prices. He introduced abundant streams of water into the
city, erecting baths and fountains, arid constructing aque-
ducts and canals to irrigate and fertilise the Vega. By
these means prosperity and abundance prevailed in this
beautiful city, its gates were thronged with commerce, and
its warehouses filled with luxuries and merchandise of
every clime and country.

While Muhamed Abu Alahmar was ruling his fair
domains thus wisely and prosperously, he was suddenly
menaced by the horrors of war. The Christians at that
time, profiting by the dismemberment of the Moslem
power, were rapidly regaining their ancient territories.
James the Conqueror had subjected all Valencia, and Fer-
dinand the Saint was carrying his victorious arms into
Andalusia. The latter invested the city of Jaen, and
swore not to raise his camp until he had gained possession
of the place. Muhamed Abu Alahmar was conscious of
the insufficiency of his means to carry on a war with the
potent sovereign of Castile. Taking a sudden resolution,
therefore, he repaired privately to the Christian camp, and
made his unexpected appearance in the presence of King
Ferdinand. « In me," said he, " you behold Muhamed,
King of Granada ; I confide in your good faith, and put
myself under your protection. Take all I possess, and
receive me as your vassal." So saying, he knelt and kissed
the king's hand in token of submission.

King Ferdinand was touched by this instance of con-
fiding faith, and determined not to be outdone in gene-
rosity. He raised his late rival from the earth, and em-
braced him as a friend, nor would he accept the wealth he
offered, but received him as a vassal, leaving him sovereign
of his dominions, on condition of paying a yearly tribute,
attending the Cortes as one of the nobles of the empire,
Q 4

232 THE ALHAMBRA.

and serving him in war with a certain number of horse-
men.

It was not long after this that Muhamed was called upon,
for his military services, to aid King Ferdinand in his
famous siege of Seville. The Moorish king sallied forth
with five hundred chosen horsemen of Granada, than
whom none in the world knew better how to manage the
steed or wield the lance. It was a melancholy and humili-
ating service, however, for they had to draw the sword
against their brethren of the faith.

Muhamed gained a melancholy distinction by his
prowess in this renowned conquest, but more true honour
by the humanity which he prevailed upon Ferdinand to
introduce into the usages of war. When, in 1248, the
famous city of Seville surrendered to the Castilian monarch,
Muhamed returned sad and full of care to his dominions.
He saw the gathering ills that menaced the Moslem cause ;
and uttered an ejaculation often used by him in moments
of anxiety and trouble — " How straightened and wretched
would be our life, if our hope were not so spacious and
extensive ! "

" Que angoste y miserabile seria nuestra vida, sino fuera
tan dilatada y espaciosa nuestra esperanza !"

When the melancholy conqueror approached his beloved
Granada, the people thronged forth to see him with im-
patient joy ; for they loved him as a benefactor. They
had erected arches of triumph in honour of his martial
exploits, and wherever he passed he was hailed with accla-
mations as El Ghalib, or the conqueror. Muharned shook
his head when he heard the appellation. " Wa la ghalib
ila Aid !" exclaimed he. (There is no conqueror but
God !") From that time forward he adopted this excla-
mation as a motto. He inscribed it on an oblique band
across his escutcheon, and it continued to be the motto of
his descendants.

Muhamed had purchased peace by submission to the
Christian yoke ; but he knew that where the elements
were so discordant, and the motives for hostility so deep
and ancient, it could not be secure or permanent. Acting
therefore upon an old maxim, " Arm thyself in peace, and

MUHAMED ABU ALAHMAR. 233

clothe thyself in summer," he improved the present interval
of tranquillity by fortifying his dominions and replenishing
his arsenals, and by promoting those useful arts which
give wealth and real power to an empire. He gave pre-
miums and privileges to the best artisans ; improved the
breed of horses and other domestic animals ; encouraged
husbandry ; and increased the natural fertility of the soil
twofold by his protection,, making the lovely valleys of his
kingdom to bloom like gardens. He fostered also the growth
and fabrication of silk, until the looms of Granada surpassed
even those of Syria in the fineness and beauty of their produc-
tions. He moreover caused the mines of gold and silver and
other metals,, found in the mountainous regions of his domi-
nions, to be diligently worked, and was the first king of Gra-
nada who struck money of gold and silver with his name,
taking great care that the coins should be skilfully executed.

It was about this time, towards the middle of the
thirteenth century, and just after his return from the
siege of Seville, that he commenced the splendid palace of
the Alhambra ; superintending the building of it in person ;
mingling frequently among the artists and workmen, and
directing their labours.

Though thus magnificent in his works and great in his
enterprises, he was simple in his person and moderate in
his enjoyments. His dress was not merely void of splen-
dour, but so plain as not to distinguish him from his
subjects. His harem boasted but few beauties, and these
he visited but seldom, though they were entertained with
great magnificence. His wives were daughters of the
principal nobles, and were treated by him as friends and
rational companions. What is more, he managed to make
them live as friends with one another. He passed much
of his time in his gardens ; especially in those of the
Alhambra, which he had stored with the rarest plants and
the most beautiful and aromatic flowers. Here he de-
lighted himself in reading histories, or in causing them to
be read and related to him, and sometimes, in intervals of
leisure, employed himself in the instruction of his three
sons, for whom he had provided the most learned and
virtuous masters.

234 THE ALHAMBRA.

As he had frankly and voluntarily offered himself a
tributary vassal to Ferdinand, so he always remained loyal
to his word, giving him repeated proofs of fidelity and
attachment. When that renowned monarch died in
Seville in 1254, Muhamed Abu Alahmar sent ambassadors
to condole with his successor Alfonzo X., and with them
a gallant train of a hundred Moorish cavaliers of dis-
tinguished rank, who were to attend, each bearing a
lighted taper, round the royal bier, during the funeral
ceremonies. This grand testimonial of respect was re-
peated by the Moslem monarch during the remainder of
his life on each anniversary of the death of King Ferdi-
nando el Santo, when the hundred Moorish knights re-
paired from Granada to Seville, and took their stations
with lighted tapers in the centre of the sumptuous cathe-
dral round the cenotaph of the illustrious deceased.

Muhamed Abu Alahmar retained his faculties and
vigour to an advanced age. In his seventy-ninth year he
took the field on horseback, accompanied by the flower of
his chivalry, to resist an invasion of his territories. As
the army sallied forth from Granada, one of the principal
adalides, or guides, who rode in the advance, accidentally
broke his lance against the arch of the gate. The coun-
cillors of the king, alarmed by this circumstance, which
was considered an evil omen, entreated him to return.
Their supplications were in vain. The king persisted,
and at noontide the omen, say the Moorish chroniclers, was
fatally fulfilled. Muhamed was suddenly struck with ill-
ness, and had nearly fallen from his horse. He was placed
on a litter, and borne back towards Granada ; but his illness
increased to such a degree that they were obliged to pitch
his tent in the Vega. His physicians were filled with
consternation, not knowing what remedy to prescribe. In
a few hours he died, vomiting blood and in violent con-
vulsions. The Castilian prince Don Philip, brother of
Alfonzo X., was by his side when he expired. His body
was embalmed, enclosed in a silver coffin, and buried in
the Alhambra, in a sepulchre of precious marble, amidst
the unfeigned lamentations of his subjects, who bewailed
him as a parent.

YUSEF ABUL HAGI6.

235

Such was the enlightened patriot prince who founded
the Alhambra, whose name remains emblazoned among its
most delicate and graceful ornaments, and whose memory
is calculated to inspire the loftiest associations in those
who tread these fading scenes of his magnificence and
glory. Though his undertakings were vast, and his ex-
penditure immense, yet his treasury was always full ;
and this seeming contradiction gave rise to the story that
he was versed in magic art, and possessed of the secret for
transmuting baser metals into gold. Those who have
attended to his domestic policy, as here set forth, will easily
understand the natural magic and simple alchemy which
made his ample treasury to overflow.

YUSEF ABUL HAGIG, THE FINISHER OF
THE ALHAMBRA.

BENEATH the governor's apartment in the Alhambra is
the royal mosque, where the Moorish monarchs performed
their private devotions. Though consecrated as a Catholic
chapel, it still bears traces of its Moslem origin ; the Sara-
cenic columns with their gilded capitals, and the latticed
gallery for the females of the Harem, may yet be seen,
and the escutcheons of the Moorish kings are mingled on
the walls with those of the Castilian sovereigns.

In this consecrated place perished the illustrious Yusef
Abul Hagig, the high-minded prince who completed the
Alhambra, and who, for his virtues and endowments,
deserves almost equal renown with its magnanimous
founder. It is with pleasure I draw forth, from the ob-
scurity in which it has too long remained, the name of
another of those princes of a departed and almost for-
gotten race, who reigned in elegance and splendour in
Andalusia, when all Europe was in comparative bar-
barism.

236 THE ALHAMBBA.

Yusef Abul Hagig (or, as it is sometimes written,
Haxis,) ascended the throne of Granada in the year 1333,
and his personal appearance and mental qualities were
such as to win all hearts, and to awaken anticipations of a
beneficent and prosperous reign. He was of a noble pre-
sence, and great bodily strength, united to manly beauty ;
his complexion was exceeding fair ; and, according to the
Arabian chroniclers, he heightened the gravity and majesty
of his appearance by suffering his beard to grow to a dig-
nified length, and dyeing it black. He had an excellent
memory, well stored with science and erudition ; he was
of a lively genius, and accounted the best poet of his time;
and his manners were gentle, affable, and urbane. Yusef
possessed the courage common to all generous spirits, but
his genius was more cultivated for peace than war ; and
though obliged to take up arms repeatedly in his time, he
was generally unfortunate. He carried the benignity of
his nature into warfare, prohibiting all wanton cruelty,
and enjoining mercy and protection towards women and
children, the aged and infirm, and all friars and persons
of holy and recluse life. Among other ill-starred enter-
prises, he undertook a great campaign in conjunction with
the King of Morocco, against the Kings of Castile and Por-
tugal, but was defeated in the memorable battle of Salado ;
a disastrous reverse, which had nearly proved a death-
blow to the Moslem power in Spain.

Yusef obtained a long truce after this defeat, during
which time he devoted himself to the instruction of his
people, and the improvement of their morals and manners.
For this purpose he established schools in all the villages,
with simple and uniform systems of education ; he obliged
every hamlet of more than twelve houses to have a
mosque, and prohibited various abuses and indecorums that
had been introduced into the ceremonies of religion, and
the festivals and public amusements of the people. He
attended vigilantly to the police of the city, establishing
nocturnal guards and patrols, and superintending all muni-
cipal concerns. His attention was also directed towards
finishing the great architectural works commenced by his
predecessors, and erecting others on his own plans. The

YUSEF ABUL HAGIG. 237

Alhambra, which had been founded by the good Abu
Alahmar, was now completed. Yusef constructed the
beautiful gate of justice, forming the grand entrance to
the fortress, which he finished in 1348. He likewise
adorned many of the courts and halls of the palace, as
may be seen by the inscriptions on the walls, in which his
name repeatedly occurs. He built also the noble Alcazar
or citadel of Malaga, now unfortunately a mere mass of
crumbling ruins, but which most probably exhibited in its
interior similar elegance and magnificence with the Al-
hambra.

The genius of a sovereign stamps a character upon his
time. The nobles of Granada, imitating the elegant and
graceful taste of Yusef, soon filled the city of Granada
with magnificent palaces ; the halls of which were paved
with mosaic, the walls and ceilings wrought in fretwork,
and delicately gilded and painted with azure, vermilion,
and other brilliant colours, or minutely inlaid with cedar
and other precious woods ; specimens of which have sur-
vived, in all their lustre, the lapse of several centuries.
Many of the houses had fountains which threw up jets of
water to refresh and cool the air. They had lofty towers
also of wood or stone, curiously carved and ornamented,
and covered with plates of metal that glittered in the sun.
Such was the refined and delicate taste in architecture that
prevailed among this elegant people : insomuch that, to
use the beautiful simile of an Arabian writer, " Granada,
in the days of Yusef, was as a silver vase, filled with
emeralds and jacynths."

One anecdote will be sufficient to show the magnanimity
of this generous prince. The long truce which had suc-
ceeded the battle of Salado was at an end, and every effort
of Yusef to renew it was in vain. His deadly foe,
Alfonzo XI. of Castile, took the field with great force,
and laid siege to Gibraltar. Yusef reluctantly took up
arms, and sent troops to the relief of the place ; when, in
the midst of his anxiety, he received tidings that his
dreaded foe had suddenly fallen a victim to the plague.
Instead of manifesting exultation on the occasion, Yusef
called to mind the great qualities of the deceased, and was

238 THE ALHAMBRA.

touched with a noble sorrow. " Alas ! " cried he, " the
world has lost one of its most excellent princes ; a sove-
reign who knew how to honour merit, whether in friend
or foe ! "

The Spanish chroniclers themselves bear witness to this
magnanimity. According to their accounts, the Moorish
cavaliers partook of the sentiment of their king, and put
on mourning for the death of Alfonzo. Even those of
Gibraltar, who had been so closely invested, when they
knew that the hostile monarch lay dead in his camp, deter-
mined among themselves that no hostile movement should
be made against the Christians. The day on which the
camp was broken up, and the army departed bearing the
corpse of Alfonzo, the Moors issued in multitudes from
Gibraltar, and stood mute and melancholy, watching the
mournful pageant. The same reverence for the deceased
was observed by all the Moorish commanders on the fron-
tiers, who suffered the funeral train to pass in safety,
bearing the corpse of the Christian sovereign from Gib-
raltar to Seville.*

Yusef did not long survive the enemy he had so gener-
ously deplored. In the year 1354, as he was one day
praying in the royal mosque of the Alhambra, a maniac
rushed suddenly from behind and plunged a dagger in his
side. The cries of the king brought his guards and
courtiers to his assistance. They found him weltering
in his blood, and in convulsions. He was borne to the
royal apartments, but expired almost immediately. The
murderer was cut to pieces, and his limbs burnt in public
to gratify the fury of the populace.

The body of the king was interred in a superb sepul-
chre of white marble ; a long epitaph in letters of gold
upon an azure ground recorded his virtues. " Here lies a
king and martyr, of an illustrious line, gentle, learned, and
virtuous ; renowned for the graces of his person and his
manners, whose clemency, piety, and benevolence were

* " Y los moros que estaban en la villa y Castillo de Gibraltar despues que
sopieron que el Key Don Alonzo era muerto, ordenaron entresi que ninguno
non fuesse osado de fazer ningun movimiento contra los Christianos, ni mover
pelear contra ellos, estovieron todos quedos y dezian entre ellos qui aquel dia
xnuriera un noble rey y Gran principe del mundo."

YUSEF ABUL HAGIG. 239

extolled throughout the kingdom of Granada. He was a
great prince j an illustrious captain ; a sharp sword of
the Moslems ; a valiant standard-bearer among the most
potent monarchs/' &c.

The mosque still remains which once resounded with
the dying cries of Yusef, but the monument which re-
corded his virtues has long since disappeared. His name,
however, remains inscribed among the ornaments of the
Alhambra, and will be perpetuated in connection with this
renowned pile, which it was his pride and delight to
beautify.

THE END.

THE LAST

OF

THE ABENCERAGES

TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH OF
CHATEAUBRIAND,

BY ISABEL HILL.

LONDON:

•RICHARD BENTLEY, 8. NEW BURLINGTON STREET
(SUCCESSOR TO HENRY COLBURN) :

BELL AND BRADFUTE, EDINBURGH;
.J. CUMMING, DUBLIN.

1835.

PREFACE.

THE Adventures of the Last Abencerage have been
written nearly twenty years ; the portrait therein
drawn of the Spaniards sufficiently explains why this
tale could not be printed under the Imperial govern-
ment. The resistance of the Spaniards to Buonaparte
— of a disarmed people against the conqueror who had
vanquished the best soldiers of Europe — excited, at
that time, the enthusiasm of all hearts capable of being
touched by great self-devotion and noble sacrifices.
The ruins of Saragossa were still smoking ; and the
censorship would have silenced a strain in which it
must have detected a veiled interest in recent victims.
A description of ancient European manners, and refer-
ences to the glories of other days, to the court of one
among our most splendid monarchs, could not have
proved agreeable to those who began to repent having
so often allowed me to speak of the old monarchy and
religion of our sires. The dead, whom I constantly
invoked, forced too many thoughts upon the living.

We frequently see, in pictures, some deformed per-
son introduced, to contrast and set off the beauty of
others. In this story I have sought to represent three
men of equally elevated character, yet not out of
nature ; but each preserving, with the passions of his
country, its manners, and even its prejudices. My
R 2

244 PREFACE.

female figure I designed in the same taste. It is but
just that the imaginary world, while we are trans-
ported thither, should indemnify us for what we find
in the world of reality.

It will readily be perceived that this tale is the work
of a man who has felt the pangs of exile, and whose
whole heart is with his country.

I took my views on the spot, I may say, of Granada,
the Alhambra, and the mosque, now transformed into a
church. The accounts of them are but additions to
this passage in the Itineraire : —

" From Cadiz I proceeded to Cordova. I admired
the mosque, now become the cathedral of that city. I
explored the ancient Betica, which poets had desig-
nated as the home of happiness. I went up as far as
Andujar, and retraced my steps in order to view Gra-
nada. The Alhambra appeared worthy to be ranked
even with the temples of Greece. The valley of Gra-
nada is delicious, and much resembles that of Sparta :
one may conceive how deeply the Moors must have
regretted such a land."

Frequent allusions are made in this tale to the His-
tory of the Zegris and the Abencerages, which history
is so well known that it would be superfluous for me
to give a summary of it here. My work, besides, con-
tains sufficient details to render its text intelligible.

THE LAST

OF

THE ABENCERAGES.

Boabdil, the last king of Granada, was forced to
abandon the realm of his fathers, he paused on the summit
of Mount Padul. From this elevated situation was visible
the sea, on which the unfortunate monarch was about to
embark for Africa; he perceived, also, Granada itself,
Vega, and Xenil, on whose shores rose the tents of Fer-
dinand and Isabella. At the sight of this lovely land, and
of the cypress trees, which still, here and there, indicated
the tombs of the Musulman, Boabdil shed tears. The
sultana Ayxia, his mother, who (as well as the grandees,
formerly composing his court) accompanied him in his
banishment, exclaimed, " Yes ; now bewail, like a woman,
the kingdom thou knew'st not how to defend, as a man !"

They descended the mountain, and Granada disappeared
for ever from their eyes.

The Spanish Moors, who shared the fate of their
sovereign, dispersed themselves over Africa. The tribes
of Zegris and Gomeles settled in the kingdom of Fez,
whence they derived their origin. The Vanegas and
Alabes fixed on the coast, from Orano to Algiers ; while
the Abencerages were established in the vicinity of Tunis,
and, within sight of the ruins of Carthage, formed a colony
distinguished from the African Moors by the refinement of
their manners and the mildness of their laws.

These families bore to their new country a vivid recol-
B 3

246

THE LAST OF THE ABENCERAGES.

lection of their native home. The paradise of Granada
lived for ever in their memories ; mothers repeated its
name even to babes at the breast, lulling them to sleep
with Zegril and Abencerage ballads. Every fifth day they
prayed in the mosque, with faces turned towards Granada,
and implored Alia to give back his elect that region of
delights. Vainly did the plains of the Lotophagi offer
the exiles their fruits, their streams, verdant pastures, and
resplendent sunshine. Far from the vermilion towers of
the palace they had quitted, no fruit was grateful, no
fountain limpid, no turf refreshing, no beams worthy of
their gaze. If any one pointed out to some banished man
the fields of Bagrada, he only hung his head, and sighed,
" Granada!"

The Abencerages, above all, preserved the most tender
and faithful remembrance of their country. With heavy
regret had they left the theatre of their glory, the shores
they had so oft bade echo to their battle cry — " Honour
and love ! " Unable to couch a lance in the desert, or
resume the helmet in a community of labourers, they
devoted themselves to the study of simples; a profession
estimated by the Arabs as equal to that of arms. This race
of warriors, formerly famed for inflicting wounds, were now
occupied in healing them ; thus retaining somewhat of
their original genius ; for true knights frequently dressed,
with their own hands, the gashes of the foes they had
subdued. The hut of this family, whose homes were
lately palaces, was not in the hamlet, filled by their fellow
exiles, at the foot of Mount Mamelife, but built among
the very ruins of Carthage, on the sea- shore, where St.
Louis died amid flames, and where now stands a Maho-
metan hermitage.

On the walls of this cabin were suspended shields of
lion- skin, which bore impressed, upon an azure field, the
figures of two savages demolishing a city with their clubs ;
near which was written, " C'est peu de chose* ;" the
arms and device of the Abencerages. Lances, adorned
with pennons of blue and white, alburnosses, and shirts of

* " It is but a trifle." No translation can do adequate justice to the original
motto ; I therefore leave it unspoiled — Transl.

THE LAST OF THE ABENCERAGES. 24?

slashed satin, were ranged around, and shone from the
midst of scimitars and poniards. Still were beheld,
hung at intervals, gauntlets, bridles enriched with pre-
cious stones, large silver stirrups, long swords, whose
scabbards had been broidered by the fingers of princesses,
and golden spurs, with which the Yseults, the Genevras,
and the Orianas had, in other days, invested their gallant
knights.

On tables beneath these trophies of glory were placed
those of peaceful life. Plants culled from the brow of
Atlas, or in the desert of Zara ; some even brought from
the plains of Granada. The former, gifted to console phy-
sical sufferings, the latter extended their influence to those of
the soul. The Abencerages estimated most highly those
which tended to calm their vain regrets, and dissipate the
idle illusions of hope, for ever springing, but to decay.
Unfortunately these herbs had contrasted virtues ; and oft
did the perfume of a flower from their own land act as
poison for the noble exiles.

Twenty-four years had rolled by since the capture of
Granada. In this brief period, fourteen Abencerages had
perished, under the effects of a strange clime, by the chances
of a wandering life, above all through grief, which secretly
undermines the strength of man. One only scion consti-
tuted the whole hope of this famed house. Aben-Hamet
bore the name of that Abencerage who was accused, by
the Zegris, of having seduced the sultana Alfaima. The
youth united the beauty, valour, and courtesy of his
ancestors, with that softened splendour, that slight ex-
pression of sadness, which is bestowed by nobly supported
misfortune. He was but two and twenty when he lost
his father, and resolved on a pilgrimage to the land of his
sires, to satisfy the yearnings of his heart, and to accom-
plish a design which he carefully concealed from his mother.

He embarked from the port of Tunis ; a favourable
wind carried him to Carthagena, where he landed, and
took the road to Granada, announcing himself as an Arab
physician, who came to gather herbs among the rocks of
Sierra Nevada.

A pacific mule bore him slowly through the scenes

248 THE LAST OF THE ABENCERAGES.

where, of yore, the Abencerages coursed upon warlike
steeds. A guide walked before him, leading two other
mules, decked with little bells, and tufts of divers-coloured
wool. Aben-Hamet crossed the vast heaths and palm
woods of Murcia. From the age of these palms he judged
that they must have been planted by his ancestors ; and
his heart was pierced with regret. There rose a tower
whence a sentinel was wont to watch, during the war of
the Moors against the Christians ; here appeared a ruin,
whose architecture proclaimed its Moorish origin, a fresh
theme of grief for the Abencerage. He alighted, and,
under the pretext of searching for plants, concealed him-
self a moment among these wrecks, and gave a free course
to his tears : he then resumed his route, musing to the
sound of the cattle's bells, and the monotonous chant of
the muleteer; who never suspended his long ballad but
to encourage his beasts, by calling them " beautiful," and
" brave ; " or to chide them as ' ' obstinate," and " lazy."

Flocks of sheep, which a shepherd led like an army
through the tawny wastes, and a few lonely travellers, far
from lending life to the road, served but to make it seem
more sad and desolate. These wayfarers all wore swords,
and they were wrapped in cloaks, and large flapped hats
half concealed their faces. They saluted Aben-Hamet as
they passed ; but he could distinguish no words in their
noble greeting, save the name of God, and the titles My
Lord, or Sir Knight. In the evening, at the Venta, or
inn, the Abencerage seated himself among strangers, with-
out being importuned by indiscreet curiosity. They neither
spoke to him nor questioned him ; his turban, his robes,
his arms, excited no emotion. Since Alia had decreed
that the Moors should lose their beloved country, he
could not avoid esteeming its grave conquerors.

Far more lively feelings awaited him at the termination
of his pilgrimage. Granada is built at the foot of Sierra
Nevada, on two lofty hills, which separate a deep valley.
The houses, situated on the declivities, in the base of the
vale, gave the city the air and form of a half-open pome-
granate, whence its name is derived. Two rivers bathe
the foot of the hill, the Xenil and the Darro ; one of

THE LAST OP THE ABENCERAGES. 24-9

which rolls in golden spangles, the other o'er silvery sand.
They unite and meander together through the centre of a
charming plain, called the Vega. This plain, which com-
mands Granada, is covered with vines, pomegranate, fig,
mulberry, and orange trees ; it is surrounded by moun-
tains of the most admirable forms and hues. An enchant-
ing sky, a pure and delicate air, breathes into the soul a
secret langour, against which even the passing voyager can
hardly defend himself. He feels that, in this region, the
tender passions would quickly have stifled the heroic, if
true love did not always aspire to be the comrade of glory.

When Aben-Hamet discovered the tops of the first
houses in Granada, his heart beat with such violence that
he was obliged to check his mule. He crossed his arms
upon his breast, and, with eyes rivetted to that sacred
city, remained immoveable. The guide paused ; and, as
all exalted sentiments are easily comprehended by a Spa-
niard, he seemed melted, guessing that the Moor beheld his
ancient home. The Abencerage at last broke silence : —

" Guide," he exclaimed, " be happy ! Veil not the
truth from me ; for peace reigned o'er the tides on the day
of thy nativity, and the moon was entering her crescent.
What towers are those that shine like stars through a green
forest ? "

ff That is the Alhambra/' answered the guide.

" And the other castle, on the other hill ? " asked Aben-
Hamet.

<e Is the Generalife," returned the Spaniard; *fand has
a garden planted with myrtles, where, they say, the Aben-
cerage was surprised with the sultana Alfai'ma. Further
on you see the Albaizyn, and nearer to us the vermilion
towers."

Each of these words pierced the heart of Aben-Hamet.
It is so hard to have recourse to strangers that we may
know the monuments of our fathers, and to hear the lips
of indifference relate the history of our family, our friends.
The guide put an end to these reflections by adding, —

" But forward, senhor Moor ! let us on. It is God's
will ; take courage. Is not Francis the First this very
day a prisoner in our Madrid ? It is the will of God."

250 THE LAST OF THE ABENCEBAGES.

He doffed his hat, made a great sign of the cross, and
flogged his mules. The Abencerage, spurring his own,
uttered, " It was written." *

They descended towards Granada ; passed near the great
ash-tree, celebrated for the combat between Muca and the
Grand Master of Calatrava, in the reign of Boabdil ; pro-
ceeded along the Alameida, and entered the city by the
gate of Elvira ; ascended the Rambla, and soon arrived at
a spot surrounded on all sides by houses of Moorish archi-
tecture. A khan, or inn, was here open for the African
Moors, who assembled in great numbers to purchase the
silk of Vega. To this khan the guide conducted Aben-
Hamet.

The Abencerage was too agitated to enjoy any repose
in this new habitation. His country filled his heart ; and,
unable to resist these tumultuous sentiments, he went
forth, at the dead of night, to wander in the streets of
Granada ; he endeavoured, with hands and eyes, to recog-
nise some of the monuments which the aged had so oft
described. Perhaps the towering edifice which he could
partly discern through the gloom was, of old, the dwelling
of his race ; perhaps it was on this now lonely spot they
held the festivals which raised the glory of Granada to the
skies. There might have passed the troops of steeds, in
housings of superb brocade ; yonder might have shone
forth the galleys, freighted with arms and flowers ; or the
dragons who sent forth fire, and concealed within them
the illustrious warriors who loved these ingenious inven-
tions of pleasure and of gallantry.

But, alas ! instead of the sound of trumpets, or the
song of love, a profound silence reigned around. This
voiceless city had changed its inhabitants ; the victors
rested upon the couches of the vanquished.

" They sleep, then, these proud Spaniards ! " cried the
young Moor, indignantly, " 'neath the roofs from which
they have banished mine ancestry. And I, an Aben-
cerage, I watch unknown, solitary, forsaken, at the palace
gate of my sires ! "

* This expression is incessantly used by a Musulman ; he applies it to most
of the events in lite.

THE LAST OP THE ABENCERAGES. 251

Aben-Hamet then reflected on human destiny, the vicis-
situdes of fortune, the fall of empires, on that of Granada
itself, surprised by its enemies in the midst of pleasures ;
its flowery garlands suddenly turned to chains. He
seemed to see the citizens abandoning their hearths, in
robes of state, like guests, who, encumbered by array,
are driven from the banquet-hall by conflagration. All
these images pressed to the heart of the Moor ; filled with
repinings, he longed to execute the project which had
brought him to Granada. Day stole upon him ; he had
lost his way, and discovered that he was far from the
khan, in a scattered outskirt of the city. All was slumber ;
nothing disturbed the quiet of the streets, their doors and
windows were closed ; only the voice of chanticleer re-
called the poor to care and labour.

After having strayed long, without power to find his
right path, Aben-Hamet heard the opening of a door,
and beheld come from it a young female, attired almost
like those Gothic queens sculptured on the tombs of our
ancient abbeys. Her black bodice, ornamented with jet,
closely embraced her elegant figure ; her short and narrow
coats betrayed a fine ankle, and a charming foot ; a Man-
tillio, black as the dress, was thrown over her head ; with
her left hand she held it crossed and closed, like a nun's
veil, beneath her chin ; so that nothing could be seen of
her countenance, save its full eyes and roseate mouth :
a duenna walked by her side ; a page carried before her a
book of devotion ; two liveried servants followed the fair
unknown at some distance. She was evidently called to
matins by the bell of a neighbouring monastery.

Aben-Hamet imagined that he gazed on the angel
Israfil, or the youngest of the hourii. The Spanish maid
regarded, with no less surprise, the turban, robe, and
arms which embellished his noble person. Recovering
from her first astonishment, she signed for the stranger to
approach, with a grace and freedom peculiar to the women
of her country.

" Senhor Moor," she said, " you appear newly arrived
in Granada ; have you lost your way ? "

i( Sultana of Flowers ! " replied Aben-Hamet ; ee delight

252 THE LAST OF THE ABENCERAGES.

to the eyes of man ! O Christian slave, more beauteous
than the virgins of Georgia ! thou hast guessed it. I am
here a stranger, lost amidst these palaces. I know not
how to regain the Moorish khan. Mahomet touch thy heart,
and requite thy hospitality ! "

<f The Moors are renowned for gallantry," remarked
the young Spaniard, with the sweetest smile ; " but I am
neither sultana nor slave ; nor content with being com-
mended to Mahomet : follow me, Sir Knight, I will recon-
duct you to your destination." She stepped lightly before the
Abencerage, led him to the door of his abode, pointed it
out to him, passed behind a palace, and disappeared.

On what then depends our peace in this life ? His
country no longer reigned alone, and wholly, o'er the soul
of Aben-Hamet. Granada had ceased to be for him a
widowed desert ; it was dearer than ever to his heart ;
but a new spell decked its ruins ; and, with the memory
of his fathers, another charm was blended. Aben-Hamet
discovered the cemetery where the ashes of his line re-
posed ; but, even while prostrated in prayer, and bathed
in filial tears, he thought that the young Spaniard might
sometimes pass over these graves, and no longer considered
his ancestors' misfortunes unqualified. Vainly did he
strive to occupy his mind solely with the object of his
pilgrimage ; vainly did he roam over the hills of Darro
and of Xenil, to gather flowers at the dawn of day. The
only flower he now wished to meet was this lovely
Christian. What fruitless efforts made he again to find
the palace of his enchantress ! how oft did he seek the paths
by which his divine guide had conducted him ! how oft did
he believe he recognised the sound of that bell — the crow-
ing of the very cock he had heard so near her dwelling.
Deceived by similar sounds, he would follow them ; but the
magic palace arose not before his eyes. Often, too, the uni-
form costume of the ladies lent him a moment's hope :
from afar, all these fair Christians resembled the mistress
of his heart ; but, on a nearer view, not one possessed her
beauty or her grace. Aben-Hamet, at last, explored the
churches ; he even ventured to the tomb of Ferdinand and
Isabella, the greatest sacrifice he had ever made to love.

THE LAST OP THE ABENCERAGES. 253

One day he gathered herbs in the Vale of Darro. The
southern hill bore on its flowery slope the walls of the
Alhambra, and the gardens of the Generalise. The
northern acclivity was decorated by the Albaizyn, by
smiling orchards, and numerously peopled grottoes. At
the western extremity of the valley he saw the steeples of
Granada, loftily grouped above surrounding oaks and
cypresses. At the end, towards the east, his eye met
convents, hermitages, and some relics of old Illiberia, built
on the points of the rocks. In the distance were the
summits of Sierra Nevada. The Darro flowed in the
midst of the valley, and presented, along its course,
refreshing mills, roaring cascades, the broken arches of a
Roman aqueduct, and the remains of a bridge erected in
the time of the Moors. Aben-Hamet was no longer
either happy or miserable enough to appreciate the luxury
of solitude. He wandered, abstracted and indifferent,
beside these enchanting shores ; rambling chance di-
rected, he followed an avenue of trees, which circled the
side of the Albaizyn ; a villa, embedded in a thicket
of oranges, met his sight. On approaching nearer, he
heard the sound of a guitar, and of a voice. Between
the tones and the looks of a woman there are associations
which never deceived a man possessed by love.

" It is my houri!" cried Aben-Hamet : he listened;
his heart palpitated ; at the name of the Abencerages,
twice repeated, it beat still more rapidly. The unknown
sung a Castilian romance, which retraced the history of
the Abencerages and the Zegris.

Aben-Hamet could not resist his emotion : he dashed
through a hedge of myrtles, and fell in the midst of a fair
young bevy, who fled shrieking from the spot. The
Spanish girl who had just sung, and still held the guitar,
exclaimed,

es 'Tis the Moorish senhor ! " and recalled her com-
panions.

" Favourite of the Genii ! " said the Abencerage, " I
have sought thee as the Arab seeks a spring in the fervour
of noon. I have heard the sounds of thy guitar, as thou
didst celebrate the heroes of my country. I recognised

254- THE LAST OF THE ABENCERAGES.

thee by the music of thine accents ; and I bring to thy
feet the heart of Aben-Hamet."

" And I," returned the Donna, " thinking of you, re-
peated the romance of the Abencerages. Since I saw
you, I have pictured to myself those knightly Moors as
resembling you."

A slight blush rose to her forehead as she spoke. Aben-
Hamet felt ready to throw himself at the feet of the young
Christian ; some vestige of prudence restrained him ; he
feared that his name, too famed in Granada, would cause
the governor anxiety. The Moorish war was scarcely ter-
minated, and the presence of an Abencerage, at that
moment, might justly inspire the Spaniards with dread.
It was not that Aben-Hamet could be dismayed by danger ;
but he trembled at the idea of being constrained to with-
draw himself, for ever, from the beauty he adored.

Donna Blanca, or Bianca, descended from a family who
derived their origin from Cid of Bivar, and from Chi-
mene (or Ximena), the child of Count Gomez de Gormaz.
The posterity of fair Valencia's conqueror, by the ingra-
titude of the Castilian court, fell into extreme poverty ;
and, for many ages, was even believed extinct, so obscure
had the line become. But towards the time of Granada's
fall, one last surviving Bivar, the grandsire of Bianca,
made himself known, more even by the renown of his
valour than by his hereditary titles.

After the expulsion of the infidels, Ferdinand endowed
the descendant of the Cid with the possessions of several
Moorish families, and created him Duke de Santa Fe.
The new duke fixed his abode in Granada, and died, while
still young, leaving an only son, already married, Don
Roderick, father of Bianca. Donna Theresa de Xeres, his
wife, bore a son, who received the name of Roderick,
like all his forefathers, but who was called Don Carlos,
to distinguish him from his father. The great events
passing before his eyes, even in his tenderest youth, the
perils to which he was so early exposed, served but to
render more grave and rigid a character naturally tending
towards austerity. Don Carlos was hardly fourteen when
he followed Cortez to Mexico ; he supported all the

THE LAST OF THE ABENCERAGES. 255

hazards, and witnessed all the horrors of that wondrous
adventure ; he lent his aid to cause the fall of its last
king, in a world till then unknown. Three years after
that catastrophe Don Carlos was again in Europe, at the
battle of Pavia ; as if but to behold courageous honour,
though crowned, subdued by the strife of fortune. The
aspect of the new hemisphere, long voyages o'er an ocean
hitherto uncrossed, the spectacle of such revolutions and
reverses of fate, had forcibly affected the religious and
melancholy imagination of Don Carlos. He entered the
chivalrous order of Calatrava, and, renouncing marriage,
in spite of the prayers of Don Roderick, devoted his inhe-
ritance to his only sister. Bianca de Bivar, much her
brother's junior, was the idol of her father ; she had lost
her mother, and entered her eighteenth year, when Aben-
Hamet appeared in Granada. All was temptation about
this fascinating woman. Her voice was enthralling, her
dancing lighter than Zephyr. Sometimes she loved to
guide a chariot, like Armida ; sometimes to fly on the
fleetest Andalusian steed, like those charming sylphs who
appeared to Tristan and to Galaor in the woods. Athens
would have taken her for Aspasia, and Paris for Diana
de Poitiers, who had just begun to shine in its court ; but,
with the attractions of a French woman, Bianca united
the passions of a Spaniard, and her natural coquetry
abated not the force, the firmness, the elevation of her
sentiments.

At the cries of her young friends, on Aben-Hamet's
abrupt appearance, Don Roderick had rushed to them.

" My father," said Bianca, " this is the Moorish knight
of whom I have told you. He heard me sing, recognised
me, and entered the garden to thank me for having directed
him when he missed his way."

The Duke de Santa Fe received the Abencerage with the
grave and simple politeness of his nation, among whom is
never found the servile air, the turn of phrase which speaks
subjected intellect and degraded souls. The language of
grandee and peasant is the same ; salutations, compliments,
habits, customs, all are alike. In proportion as the gene-
rous confidence of this people towards strangers is un-

256*

THE LAST OP THE ABENCERAGES.

bounded, their vengeance is terrible if that trust be be-
trayed.

With heroic courage, and patience 'neath every test,
incapable of yielding to ill-fortune, the Spaniard must
either subdue it, or fall crushed by its weight. He has
but little of what is called wit ; but exalted passions supply
the place of this light, which emanates from an abundance
of ingenious thoughts. A Spaniard who passes the day
without speaking, who has seen nothing, nor cared to see,
who has read nothing, nothing studied, nothing compared,
will find, in the greatness of his own resolution, all the re-
sources needful for the moment of adversity.

It was Don Roderick's birthday, and Bianca gave her
father a little fete, called a tertullia, in this pleasant re-
treat. The Duke de Santa Fe invited Aben-Hamet to sit
among the young beauties, who amused themselves with
his foreign turban, and robes. They brought velvet
cushions that he might recline in Moorish ease. They
questioned him respecting his country and adventures : he
replied with spirit and gaiety, in pure Castilian ; and
might have been deemed a Spaniard, had he not, nearly
always, substituted thou and thee for you. These words,
from his lips, sounded so softly for Bianca, that she could
not avoid feeling a degree of envy when he addressed
them to her guests. Numerous domestics appeared, bear-
ing chocolate, fruits, pastry, and little Malaga sugared
loaves, white as snow, light and porous as sponge. After
this refrescOy Bianca was entreated to perform one of the
characteristic dances, in which she transcended the most
expert gitanas. She could not but concede to the petitions
of her friends. Aben-Hamet had remained silent, but his
supplicating looks spoke for him.

Bianca chose the Zambra, an expressive dance, which
the Spaniards had borrowed from the Moors. One of the
damsels played its wild air on the guitar. The daughter
of Don Roderick removed her veil, and fastened to her
white hands a pair of ebony castanets. Her black locks
fell curling o'er her alabaster throat, her lips and eyes
smiled in concert ; her complexion was animated by the
emotions of her heart. Suddenly she clashed the castanets,

THE LAST OF THE ABENCERAGES. 257

beat time thrice, struck up the Zambra song, and. mingling
her voice with the notes of the guitar, darted forward like
lightning. How varied her steps ! how elegant her atti-
tudes ! Now she vivaciously raised her arms, now let
them gently fall. Sometimes she fled as if inebriate with
delight ; sometimes retreated, as though oppressed with
sorrow. She turned her head, seemed beckoning some in-
visible being, and modestly offered her blushing cheek, as
to a bridegroom's kiss ; then shrunk away half ashamed ;
returned glowingly reassured, marched with a noble, al-
most a warlike tread, then bounded with fresh spirit o'er
the turf.

The harmony of her gestures and song with the tones of
the guitar was perfect. Her slightly veiled voice had
that kind of accent which stirs the passions to the depths
of the soul. Spanish music, composed of sighs, of lively
movements, sad chorus -burdens, and airs abruptly sus-
pended, offers a singular mixture of gaiety and melancholy.
This music, that dance, irretrievably decided the destiny
of the last Abencerage. They would have sufficed to dis-
turb a heart more sound than his.

In the evening the party returned to Granada by the
Vale of Darro. Don Roderick, caught by the high and
polished manners of Aben-Hamet, would not permit him
to depart till he had promised to come frequently, and
amuse Bianca with the wondrous recitals of the East.
The Moor, to the fulfilment of his hopes, accepted this
invitation ; and, from that time, regularly returned to the
palace where breathed the fair whom he loved beyond the
light of day. Bianca was too soon involved in a deeply
rooted passion, even by the very impossibility in which she
believed as to its existence. To love an infidel, a Moor,
an unknown, appeared to her so strange, so unnatural, that
she took no precautions against the fever already gliding
into her veins. But, as soon as she recognised its symp-
toms, she embraced her doom like a true Spaniard. The
perils, the distresses she foresaw, could not scare her from
the precipice's edge, nor effect any long deliberations in
her heart. She said to herself, " Let but Aben-Hamet

XDO THE LAST OF THE ABENCERAGES.

become a Christian, and love me, I will follow him to the
end of the world !"

The Abencerage, on his part, felt the full force of a
resistless passion. He now lived but for Bianca. He
thought no more of the scheme which had led him to
Granada. It was easy for him to obtain the intelligence
he came to seek ; but all interests, save those of his love,
had faded from his eyes. He even shunned the truth,
lest it should make any change in his fate. He asked
nothing, would hear nothing, he only thought,

" May Eianca become a Mahometan, and love me, I
will devote to her service my latest sigh ! "

Aben-Hamet and Bianca, thus fixed in their resolutions,
awaited but the moment which should discover their senti-
ments. They were then enjoying the loveliest days of the
year.

" You have not yet been through the Alhambra," said
the daughter of Santa Fe to the Abencerage. " If I may
judge from some words which have escaped you, your
family is originally of Granada. Perhaps you would be
pleased to visit the palace of your ancient kings. This
evening I will be your guide."

Aben-Hamet swore by the prophet, that never could
any excursion be so acceptable to him.

The appointed hour arrived ; the child of Don Roderick
mounted a white mule, accustomed to climb the rocks like
a kid. Aben-Hamet accompanied the radiant maid on
an Andalusian horse, equipped after the manner of the
Turks. In their rapid course the young Moor's purple
robe fluttered behind him, the wind waved the aigrette
with which his turban was surmounted, and his crooked
sabre rung against the high saddle. The people, struck
with his graces, cried as they saw him pass,

" There is the infidel prince, whom Donna Bianca is
converting."

At first the pilgrims followed a long street, still bearing
the name of an illustrious Moorish family. This street
bordered on the exterior enclosure of the Alhambra. They
then crossed the elm wood, arrived at the fountain, and
soon found themselves before the inner court of Boabdil's

palace
by ba

THE LAST OF THE ABENCERAGES. 259

In a wall, flanked with towers and surmounted
battlements, opened an entrance called the Gate of
Judgment ; passing through this first portal, they ad-
vanced by a narrow path, which wound among high w als
and half-ruined houses. This road led them to the Al-
gibes, near which Charles V. had a palace erected. From
thence, turning to the north, they paused in a deserted
court, at the foot of an unornamented wall, dilapidated by
time ; Aben-Hamet, leaping lightly to the earth, offered
his hand for Bianca to dismount from her mule. Their
attendants tapped at a door, whose threshold was o'er-
grown with grass ; it opened, and at once disclosed all the
secret recesses of the Alhambra.

The regret of patriotism, mingled with the illusions of
love, seized on the heart of the last Abencerage. Mute
and motionless, he sent looks of astonishment through this
home of the Genii. He believed himself transported to
the entrance of some palace, such as one finds described
in the Arabian Tales. Light galleries, canals of white
marble, bordered by flowering citrons and orange trees,
fountains, lonely courts, every where met his eye ; and,
through long porticoed arches, he perceived other laby-
rinths, new enchantments. A sky of the brightest azure
was visible between the columns which supported a suc-
cession of gothic arches. The walls were covered with
arabesques, imitating those eastern stuffs which, in the
ennui of a harem, are capriciously embroidered by the
female slaves. A spirit at once voluptuous, religious, and
warlike, seemed to breathe through this magnificent edifice,
this cloister of love, this mysterious asylum, where the
Moorish kings tasted all the pleasures, and forgot all the
duties of life.

After some instants of silent amaze, the lovers entered
this abode of vanished power and past felicity. They
went first round the Hall of the Mesucar, amid the per-
fume of flowers and the freshness of streams. They then
penetrated into the Court of Lions. Aben -Harriet's emo-
tions increased at every step.

" Didst thou not fill my soul with rapture," he said,
" with what grief should 1 find myself obliged to ask thee

260 THE LAST OF THE ABENCERAGES.

— a Spaniard — the history of these scenes, which were
formed to serve as the retreat of happiness, and me."

Aben-Hamet observed the name of Boabdil formed in
mosaics.

" Oh my king ! " he cried, ' ' what has been thy fate ?
Where shall I find thee, in thy deserted Alhambra?"

Tears of fidelity and loyal honour suffused the eyes of
the young Moor.

" Your ancient masters," said Bianca, " or rather the
kings of your fathers, were ungrateful ! "

ee What of that ? " resumed the Abencerage : " they
have been unfortunate ! "

As he uttered these words, Bianca led him into a small
chamber, which seemed the very sanctuary of Love's
temple. Nothing could equal the elegance of this haven ;
the arched ceiling, painted entirely in blue and gold, and
composed of arabesque open work, let in the light, as
through a tissue of flowers. A fountain played in the
centre, and its waters, falling in dewy spray, were re-
ceived by a conch of alabaster.

" Aben-Hamet," said the daughter of Santa Fe, " look
well at this fountain — it received the disfigured heads of
the Abencerages. You may still see, on the marble, a stain
from the blood of the wretched beings sacrificed by Boabdil
to his suspicions. It is thus in your country that they
punish the seducers of credulous women."

But Aben-Hamet no longer heard Bianca ; he had pros-
trated himself, and reverently kissed the blood of his
ancestors. Rising, however, he exclaimed,

" Oh, Bianca ! I swear, by the blood of these knights, to
love thee with the truth and constancy of an Abencerage ! "

" You do love me, then ? " cried Bianca, clasping her fair
hands, and raising her eyes to heaven : " but do you re-
member that you are an infidel, a Moor, an enemy ? and
that I am a Christian and a Spaniard ? "

"Holy Prophet!" said Aben-Hamet, "be witness to
my vows !"

Bianca interrupted him.

f ' What faith do you expect me to give the vows of a
persecutor of my God ? How know you whether I love

THE LAST OF THE ABENCERAGES.

you ? What has emboldened you to address me in such
language ? "

Aben-Hamet replied in consternation, "It is true that I
am but thy slave. Thou hast not chosen me for thy knight."

" Moor," said Bianca, e( away with artifice ! Thou hast
seen by my looks that I love thee ; my madness for thee is
extreme. Be a Christian, and nothing shall prevent my
being thine. But, if the daughter of the Duke de Santa
Fe dares speak to thee thus frankly, thou mayest judge, by
that very act, that she knows how to vanquish herself ; and
that never shall any right be exerted o'er her by a foe to
Christianity ! "

Aben-Hamet, in a transport of passion, seized the hands
of Bianca, pressed them against his turban, then to his heart,
crying,

" Alia is powerful, and Aben-Hamet is happy ! Oh, Ma-
homet ! teach this Christian thy law, and nought shall "

" Thou blasphemest !" broke in Bianca. ' ' Let us hence ! "

She leaned on the arm of the Moor, and approached
the Fount of the Twelve Lions, which gives its name to
one of the Albambra's courts.

te Stranger," said the simple Spaniard, " when I look
on thy turban, thy robe, thine arms, and think upon our
love, I fancy I behold the shade of that gallant Aben-
cerage who paced this abandoned walk with the hapless
Alfai'ma. Explain to me the Arab inscription engraved
on the marble of this fountain ! "

Aben-Hamet read these words: "The lovely princess,
covered with pearls, walked in her garden, and so marvel-
lously enhanced its beauty " *

The rest was effaced.

"For thee was this inscription made!" cried Aben-
Hamet. " Beloved Sultana ! these palaces were ne'er so
brilliant in their youth as now in their decay. Listen to
the sound of those fountains, as the moss impedes their
waters ; look at the gardens, peeping through these half-
fallen arcades ; contemplate the day-star, setting beyond
those porticoes. How sweet to roam in such a scene with

* This inscription exists, with some others. It is useless to repeat that I
wrote my account of the Alhambra on the spot.

8 3

262

THE LAST OF THE ABENCERAGES.

thee ! Thy words imbalm these solitudes,, like nuptial
roses. With what transport do I recognise in thy lan-
guage some accents of my native tongue ! The mere
rustle of thy garb against these marbles thrills me. The
air is only perfumed by having touched thy locks. Thou
shinest amid these ruins like the fair Genius of my country.
But dares Aben-Hamet hope to fix thine affections ?
What is he beside thee ? He has explored the mountains
with his father,, he knows all the plants of the Desert.
Alas! there is not one which can heal the wound thou hast
dealt him. He bears arms indeed, yet he is not a knight.
I was wont to say, ' The wave of the sea that sleeps shel-
tered in the crevice of the rock is tranquil and silent, while
all in the great ocean may be roaring and tumultuous.
Aben-Hamet, such be thy life ! quiet, peaceful, unknown,
in a forgotten corner of the earth, while the court of the
Sultan is distracted by storms/ I used to say this, young
Christian ! but thou hast proved to me that tempests may
trouble even the drop of water in the crevice of the rock ! "

Bianca listened with ecstasy to language so new, the
oriental style of which so well seemed to suit the fairy
region she now roved with her lover. From all sides
fond thoughts assailed her heart ; she felt her limbs
tremble, and was obliged to hang more heavily on the
arm of her companion. Aben-Hamet supported the sweet
burden, repeating, as he went,

ee Oh, wherefore am I not a glorious Abencerage?"
"You would please me less, were you so," sighed
Bianca ; " for then I should be tortured with more anxi-
eties. Remain in obscurity, and live for me ! Too often
a famed knight forgets love in renown."

" Thou wouldst have no such danger to fear," ardently
responded Aben-Hamet.

" How well couldst thou love me, then, if thou wert
an Abencerage ? " demanded the descendant of Ximena.

" More than glory," replied Aben-Hamet, <fbut less
than honour."

The sun had sunk beneath the horizon during this
lovers' walk. They had seen the whole of the Alhambra.
What recollections had the Moor amassed there ! Through

THE LAST OP THE ABENCERAGES. 263

yonder apertures a sultana had inhaled the incense of
burning perfumes ; in that retired apartment she had
arrayed herself in all the gorgeous apparel of the East ;
and it was Bianca, that worshipped beauty, who related
these details to her idolised and handsome young lover.

The rising moon shed a doubtful light on the abandoned
sanctuaries and deserted porches of the Alhambra. Its
silver rays traced on the turf of the gardens, and against
the sides of the halls,, a lace- work of aerial architecture;
the vaulted roofs, the quivering shadows of jetting founts,
and those of the shrubs that waved in the breeze. A
nightingale warbled from a cypress,, which shot through
the roof of a ruined rnosque, and echo repeated her plaints.
Aben.Hamet by the moonbeams graved Bianca's name,
in Arab character, on the marble of the Sisters' Hall, that
the traveller in this palace of mysteries might find one
mystery the more to divine.

• " These spots are distracting ! " cried Bianca ; " let us
leave them. The destiny of my life is fixed for ever.
Remember my words : Moor, I am thy hopeless love ; or,
Christian, I am thy happy wife ! "

"Christian," retorted Aben-Hamet, " I am thy wretched
slave ! — Mahometan, I were thine exultant husband ! "

The noble pair quitted this dangerous palace. Bianca's
passion augmented day by day. That of Aben-Hamet
increased with equal violence. He was so proud of being
loved for himself, and owing to no second cause the at-
tachment he inspired, that he would not reveal the secret
of his birth to the heiress of the Duke de Santa Fe ; but
anticipated the refined pleasure of confessing his illustrious
name on the day she should consent to give him her hand.
He was, however, suddenly recalled to Tunis, and pre-
sented himself before Bianca to inform her of the cause.
"Sultana," he sighed, "my mother, seized with a fatal
malady, desires to bless me ere she quits this life, and
bids me close her eyes. Wilt thou preserve thy love for
me ? "

"Thou leav'st me," cried Bianca, turning pale: "shall
I never see thee more ? "

"Come," answered Aben-Hamet, "I will exact an oath
s 4

264

THE LAST OF THE ABENCERAGES.

from thee, and give thee one, which death alone can break.
Follow me ! "

He led her to a cemetery, formerly that of the Moors,
where yet were scattered the low pillars on which turbans
had been carved, but the Spaniards had since substituted
the cross.

e( Bianca," he said, •" here rest the ashes of my sires ;
by them I swear to love thee till the Angel of Death calls
me to the judgment-seat of Alia. I promise never to give
another this heart, but to wed thee as soon as thou re-
ceivest the holy light of the prophet. Each year, at this
season, will I revisit Granada, to ascertain if thou hast
kept thy faith to me, and if thou wilt renounce thine
errors."

" And I," wept forth Bianca, " shall every year expect
thee; to my last gasp will I be true to the faith I have
sworn thee, and will accept thee as my lord whene'er the
Christian's God, far more powerful than thy mistress, hath
touched thy unbelieving heart."

Aben-Hamet set forth — the winds wafted him to the
coast of Africa. His parent had just expired — he wept,
and embraced her bier. Months rolled by. Sometimes
wandering amid the ruins of Carthage, sometimes seated
on the tomb of St. Louis, the exiled Abencerage invoked
the day which should restore him to Granada. At length
it rose : he embarked, and bade the vessel's prow be
turned towards Malaga. With what transports of joy and
fear did he perceive the first headlands of Spain. Did
Bianca await him on those shores ? did she still remember
the poor Arab who had incessantly adored her 'neath the
palm-trees of his desert ?

The daughter of Santa Fe was not unfaithful to her
vows. She had besought her father to take her to Malaga.
From the mountain tops of this uninhabited coast her eyes
pursued the flying sails of distant ships. During the
tempest she gazed affrighted on the sea, uplifted by the
gale. She loved to lose herself in clouds, expose herself
to danger, and feel bathed by the same waves, dashed
against by the same whirlwind that menaced the life of
Aben-Hamet. When she saw the plaintive sea-mew skim

THE LAST OF THE ABENCERAGES. 265

the water with its long drooping wing, she charged it with
all those messages of love, all those wild protestations,
which burst from hearts consumed by passion. One day,
as strolling on the beach, she beheld a long bark, whose
raised prow, bending mast, and latine sail, announced the
tasteful genius of the Moors. Bianca hastened to the
port, and soon saw the barbaric vessel enter, making the
water foam around, from the rapidity of its course. A
Moor, superbly attired, stood at its prow. Behind him
two black slaves held the rein of an Arab horse, whose
smoking nostrils and scattered mane proclaimed at once
his fiery nature and the terrors he felt at the rush of the
waves. The bark lowered its sails, touched the mole —
the Moor leaped on shore ; it rung with the clash of his
arms. The slaves led forth the courser, spotted like a
pard, who neighed and reared with joy at finding himself
again on land. Other slaves gently let down a basket, in
which a gazelle reposed on palm leaves. Its fragile limbs
were tied, and folded under it, lest they should be broken
by the rocking of the vessel ; it wore a collar of aloe seeds,
and, on a plate of gold which clasped the ends, was en-
graved, in Arabic, a name, and a talisman.

Bianca recognised Aben-Hamet ; but not daring to be-
tray herself before crowds, she retired, sending Dorothea,
one of her women, to apprise the Abencerage that she
expected him at the Moorish palace.

Aben-Hamet now presented to the governor his firman,
written in letters of azure on costly vellum, and enclosed
in a silken case. Dorothea drew near, and led the happy
Abencerage to the feet of Bianca. What rapture to find
each other faithful, to meet after so long an absence ! What
fresh professions of eternal constancy did they exchange !

The black slaves led forward the Numidian steed, who,
in lieu of saddle, had on his back but a lion- skin, fast-
ened with a purple girth. They also brought the gazelle.

fc Sultana," said Aben-Hamet, " here is one of my
country's kids, almost as agile as thyself!"

Bianca with her own hands loosed the bonds of the
pretty creature, who seemed by his melting looks to thank
her care.

266 THE LAST OF THE ABENCERAGES.

During Aben-Hamet's absence, the daughter of Santa
Fe had studied Arabic, and read with tearful eyes her own
name on the gazelle's collar. The liberated animal could
scarcely support itself on its so lately imprisoned feet ; it
lay down, leaning its head against its mistress' knee, who
fed it with freshly gathered dates, smoothing its soft skin,
which retained an odour from the rose and aloe woods of
Tunis.

The Abencerage, the Duke de Santa Fe, and his daugh-
ter, started together for Granada. The days of our joy-
ous pair passed like those of the preceding year. The same
walks, the same regret at sight of the country, the same
love, or rather love for ever increasing, for ever mutual ;
but the same attachment also to the creeds of their sires.
"Be a Christian !" sighed Bianca : " Be a Mahometan !"
said Hamet ; and once again they parted, without yielding
to the passion which drew them towards each other.

Aben-Hamet reappeared on the third year, like one of
those migratory birds whom love in spring restores to our
climes.

He did not now find Bianca on the strand ; but a letter
from his adored apprised the faithful Arab of the Duke de
Santa Fe's departure for Madrid, and the arrival of Don
Carlos at Granada, accompanied by a French captive, his
friend. The Moor's heart, as he read this letter, was
oppressed by the most gloomy presentiments. The moun-
tains appeared to him fearfully lone, and he often turned
back his regards towards the sea which he had crossed.

Bianca, in her father's absence, could not quit a beloved
brother, who was ready to despoil himself of his posses-
sions for her sake, one whom she now beheld after a sepa-
ration of seven years. Don Carlos had all the courage and
pride of his nation. Fierce as the conquerors of the New
World amongst whom he had first borne arms, pious as
the Spanish knights who subjugated the Moors, he cherished
in his breast that hate of the infidels which he inherited
with the blood of the Cid.

Thomas de Lautrec was of the noble house de Foix,
the beauty of whose daughters and the valour of whose sons
descended as an hereditary gift. He was younger brother

THE LAST OF THE ABENCERAGES. 26?

to the Countess de Foix, and to the brave unfortunate
Odet, lord of Lautrec. At the age of eighteen he had
been dubbed a knight by Bayard, in the retreat which cost
the life of that chevalier l< without fear and without re-
proach." Some time afterwards Lautrec was wounded, and
made prisoner, in defending his chivalrous king, who had
seen f all lost save honour.'

Don Carlos de Bivar, witnessing the brave deeds of the
young Frenchman, had watched o'er his wounds, and soon
established between them one of those heroic friendships
which are founded on esteem and virtue.
* Francis I. had returned to his kingdom ; but Charles
V. retained all the other prisoners. Lautrec had the
honour of sharing the captivity of his sovereign, and of
laying at his feet in prison. Remaining in Spain after the
departure of that monarch, he had been sent on his parole
to Don Carlos, who had just brought him to Granada.

When Aben-Hamet re-entered the presence of his love,
he suffered a pang till then unknown. At her feet sat a
youth who gazed on her in silent ecstasy. He wore a
doublet and hose of buff, girt by a belt, from which hung a
sword ornamented with fleurs de lis. A silk mantle was
thrown over his shoulders ; on his head was a narrow-
brimmed hat, shaded by a plume ; a lace ruff fell back on
his chest, and left his throat uncovered. Moustaches, black
as ebony, gave to his naturally mild countenance a manly
and warlike air. On the large boots which fell in folds about
his feet were the golden spurs that marked him as a knight.

At some distance stood another, leaning on the iron cross
handle of his long sword ; he was clad like his companion,
but looked older. His austere yet ardently impassioned
aspect inspired respect and fear. The red cross of Cala-
trava was embroidered on his doublet, with this device,
" For that, and for my king ! "

An involuntary cry burst from the lips of Bianca as she
beheld Aben-Hamet.

'" Sirs/' she said, " here is the infidel of whom I have
spoken to ye ; tremble lest he should prove victorious !
Such were the Abencerages, surpassed by none in loyalty, in
courage, or in love."

268 THE LAST OF THE ABENCERAGES.

Don Carlos advanced to Aben-Hamet. " Senhor Moor,"
he began, e( my fatber and sister have apprised me of
your name. They believe you sprung from a brave and
noble stock ; you yourself are distinguished for courtesy.
My master, Charles, will soon carry his wars into Tunis.
I trust we may meet in the field of honour."

Aben-Hamet lay his hand on his breast, and seated him-
self on the floor, without reply, keeping his eyes fixed on
Bianca and Lautrec ; who, with national curiosity, admired
the splendid robe, glittering arms, and personal beauty of
the Moor. Bianca did not appear in the least degree em-
barrassed ; her whole soul was in her eyes. The sincere
Spaniard strove not. to hide the secret of her heart. After
some moments of silence, Aben-Hamet rose, bent before
the daughter of Don Roderick, and retired. Astonished
at his demeanour, and at Bianca's looks, Lautrec also took
leave, with a suspicion soon exchanged for certainty.

Don Carlos alone remained with his sister.

f ' Bianca," he said, ' ' explain yourself ! Whence sprung
your agitation at sight of that stranger ? "

" My brother," answered Bianca, " I love Aben-
Hamet ; and, if he will become a Christian, my hand shall
be his."

" How ! " exclaimed Don Carlos, ' ' you love Aben-
Hamet ? A daughter of the Bivars love a Moor, an infidel,
an enemy, whom we have driven from these halls ? "

ff Don Carlos," replied Bianca, " I love Aben-Hamet :
he loves me. For three years he has renounced me rather
than renounce the religion of his sires. Nobility of soul,
chivalrous honour, dwell in his breast. With my last
breath I shall adore him."

Don Carlos was capable of appreciating the generous
resolution of Aben-Hamet, though he deplored his unbeliev-
ing blindness.

"Unfortunate Bianca!" he cried, " whither will this
love lead thee ? I had hoped that my friend Lautrec would
have become my brother."

" You deceived yourself," returned Bianca ; " I cannot
love him. For my sentiments towards Aben-Hamet
I am accountable to no one. Keep thy knightly oaths

THE LAST OF THE ABENCERAGES. 29

as I have kept those of love. Know only, as thy solace,
that Bianca will never be the bride of an infidel ! "

1 ' Our race then will be lost to the world ! " sighed Don
Carlos.

" It is for thee to revive it," said his sister; " or why
wish for heirs who might degenerate from thy virtue ?
Don Carlos, I feel that we are the last of our race. We
are too remote from the common order of mortals for our
line to flourish after us. The Cid was our ancestor : he
will be our posterity."

Don Carlos fled to the Abencerage.

" Moor/' he cried, " renounce my sister, or accept my
challenge ! "

" Are you charged by your sister," asked the Moor,
" to demand a restoration of her vows to me ? "

" No," replied Don Carlos, " she loves thee more than
ever, yet "

ee Ah ! worthy to be her brother," interrupted Aben-
Hamet ; (f I must preserve my honour with thy kindred.
Blest Aben-Hamet ! happy hour ! I feared Bianca fickle
with the French knight."

" To thy misfortune, she is not so," retorted Don Carlos
vehemently ; " but for thee Lautrec were my brother.
Satisfy me for the tears thou hast cost us all."

" I would gladly do so," rejoined Aben-Hamet; " but,
though born of a race which, perhaps, hath contended with
thine, I am not a knight, nor know I of any one here who
will confer on me an order empowering thee to measure
swords with me, and not degrade thy rank."

Caught by the Moor's remark, Don Carlos gazed on
him in a mood 'twixt rage and admiration ; then suddenly
exclaimed, —

" 'Tis I who will arm thee as knight, for thou deserv-
est to be one !"

Aben-Hamet bent his knee before Don Carlos, who
dubbed him, by striking his shoulder thrice with the flat
of his sword, and then bestowed on him the very weapon
with which the Abencerage was about, perhaps, to pierce
the Spaniard's heart. Such was honour of old !

Both threw themselves on their steeds, left the walls of

270 THE LAST OK THE ABENCERAGES.

Granada, and hurried to the Pine Fountain. Duels hetween
Moors and Christians had long rendered it celebrated. It
was there that Malek Alabes fought with Ponce de Leon, and
there the Grand Master of Calatrava slew the gallant Abay-
ados. The broken armour of this Moorish knight was
still seen suspended to the branches of the pine. Don
Carlos, pointing to his tomb,, said to Aben-Hamet, " Imil
tate that brave infidel ; receive from my hand baptism and
death ! "

" Death., perchance/' replied the Abencerage, " but
glory to Alia and his prophet !"

They instantly took the field, and rushed on each other
with fury, armed but by their swords. Aben-Hamet was
less expert in combats than Don Carlos ; but the supe-
riority of his arms, tempered at Damascus, and the acti-
vity of his barb, gave him, nevertheless, advantages over
his adversary. He spurred his courser in Moorish wise,
and, with his large sharp-edged stirrup, cut the right leg
of Don Carlos' horse below the knee. The wounded
animal fell, and his rider, thus dismounted, ran towards
Aben-Hamet with uplifted sword. Aben-Hamet sprung
to the ground, and intrepidly received him. He parried
the blows of the Spaniard, whose weapon broke against
the Damascus blade. Thus doubly cheated by fortune, Don
Carlos shed tears of rage, and shouted to his opponent, —

" Strike, Moor, strike ! Don Carlos, though disarmed,
defies thee, and all thine unbelieving race ! "

" Thou mightest have killed me," replied the Abence-
rage, " but I never intended thee the least hurt. I wished
but to prove that I was worthy of being thy brother, and
thus forbid thee to despise me."

At this instant they perceived a cloud of dust ; Lautrec
and Bianca, on two jennets of Fez, arrived swiftly as light
at the Pine Fountain, and beheld the suspended encounter.
" I am subdued," said Don Carlos ; " this knight has
given me my life. Lautrec, I trust you may prove more
fortunate than myself."

" My wounds," answered Lautrec graciously, <c permit
me to refuse doing battle with this courteous knight : I
will not," he added, blushing, " hear the cause of your

THE LAST OF THE ABENCERAGES.

271

quarrel, nor penetrate a secret which might carry death
to my heart. My absence shall soon restore peace among
ye, unless Bianca commands me to remain at her feet."

" Sir Knight," said Bianca, tf you will stay with my bro-
ther, and regard me as your sister. All hearts here below
must suffer some grief. Learn of us to support the woes
of life."

She wished each of the three knights to give the others
his hand ; but all refused.

te I hate Aben-Hamet," cried Don Carlos.
<c I envy him," sighed Lautrec.

" I," said the Abencerage, a esteem Don Carlos, and
sympathise with Lautrec, but I cannot love them."

" Let us see," concluded Bianca ; " friendship, sooner
or later, will always follow esteem. Let the ill-fated
event which brought us hither be for ever unknown in
Granada."

From this moment Aben-Hamet became a thousand
times dearer than before to the daughter of the Duke de
Santa Fe. Love is fond of valour. The Abencerage was
brave : Don Carlos owed him his life.

By Bianca's suggestion he abstained, for some days,
from the palace, to let the indignation of her brother sub-
side. A fund of sweet and bitter thoughts filled the soul
of the Abencerage. On one side, the assurance of being
loved with so much fidelity and ardour was a source of
inexhaustible delight ; on the other, the certainty that he
never could be blest till he abjured the creed of his fathers
weighed down his courage. Already years had passed
without bringing balm to his woes : was he thus to see
wasted the remains of his life ?

Plunged in an abyss of the most serious and tender re-
flections, he one evening heard the vesper bell, and deter-
mined to enter the temple of Bianca's God, that he might
crave direction from the Ruler of all Nature.

Arrived at an antique mosque, converted into a church
by the faithful, Aben-Hamet, his heart a prey to religious
melancholy, entered the fane once sacred to his God, his
country. Prayers had just concluded ; there was no
longer any one visible. A hallowed gloom reigned amid the

272 THE LAST OF THE ABENCERAGES.

multitude of pillars, which looked like the trunks of trees
in a regularly planted forest. The airy Morisco archi-
tecture was wedded to the heavier Gothic ; and, without
losing any thing of its elegance, had acquired a gravity
more suited to meditation. A few lamps faintly lit the
depths of the arches; but, by the glare of several wax
tapers,, still shone the altar of the sanctuary,, sparkling with
gold and jewels. The Spaniards concentrate all their
pride, and despoil themselves of all their wealth, to deck
with it the objects of their worship ; and the image of the
living God, set amid veils of lace, crowns of pearls, and
heaps of rubies, is adored by a population almost half
naked.

No seats are seen on the vast pavement; the marble,
which covers the coffins of the dead, suffices both high
and low, who there prostrate themselves before the Lord.
Aben-Hamet advanced slowly along the deserted aisles,
which echoed but to his tread. His mind was divided
between recollections which this ancient edifice of Moorish
religion recalled, and the sentiments to which Christianity
gave birth. Dimly perceptible, at the foot of a column,
knelt a figure which, at first, he thought a statue on some
tomb. He drew near, and distinguished a young knight,
his forehead reverently bowed, his hands crossed on his
breast; he stirred not at the footsteps of the Moor; no
exterior sign of life could interrupt his profound devotion.
His sword lay on the ground before him, his plumed cap
on the marble at his side ; he looked as if fixed in this
attitude by the effect of enchantment. It was Lautrec.

"Ah !" mused the Abencerage, "this interesting young
Frenchman is imploring some signal grace. This war-
rior, already celebrated by his courage, here pours forth
his heart before the King of Heaven, like the humblest
and most obscure of mortals. Let me too pray to the God
of knighthood and of glory ! "

Aben-Hamet was about to throw himself on the marble,
when he perceived, 'neath some plaster, nearly rubbed off,
the Arab characters of a verse from the Koran. Con-
science resumed her sway ; he hasted to quit the place in

THE LAST OF THE ABENCERAGES. 273

which he had thought of becoming unfaithful to his reli-
gion and his country.

The cemetery which surrounded this ancient mosque was
a kind of garden, planted with orange-trees, cypresses, and
palms, and watered by two fountains ; a cloister was hard
by. Aben-Hamet, in passing beneath one of its porches,
beheld a woman just entering the church. Though she
was veiled, he recognised the daughter of Santa Fe, and,
detaining her, said,

" Goest thou to seek Lautrec in yonder temple ? "

" Leave these low jealousies," returned Bianca : " if I
no longer loved thee, I would say so. I should scorn to
deceive thee. I came hither to pray for thee. Thou only
art now the object of my vows. I forget my own soul
for thine. Thou shouldst either have forborne to in-
toxicate me with the poison of thy love, or thou shouldst
consent to serve the God I serve. Thou hast afflicted my
whole family. My brother hates thee, my father is over-
whelmed with grief because I refuse to select a husband.
Mark'st thou not that my health decreases ? See this last
asylum ! 'tis haunted ground — soon shall I repose here,
if thou dost not quickly receive my faith at the Christian
altar. The struggles I endure are by degrees undermining
my life. The passion thou inspires! will not long sustain
my frail existence. Think, oh Moor ! to speak thine own
language, that the flame which illumines the torch is also
that which consumes it."

Bianca entered the church, and left Aben-Hamet deso-
lated by her parting words. The combat was over — the
Abencerage vanquished; he was ready to disclaim the
errors of his creed j he had resisted sufficiently. The fear
of seeing Bianca die triumphed o'er every other feeling in
his heart.

" After all," he pondered, " the Christian's God may be
the true one. He is surely the God of noble souls, since
he is that of Bianca, of Don Carlos, and of Lautrec."

With this thought Aben-Hamet impatiently awaited
the next day to disclose his resolution to Bianca, and
exchange a life of tears for one of rapture. He could not
visit the palace of the Duke de Santa Fe till evening,

274 THE LAST OF THE ABENCEBAGES.

when he learnt that Bianca had gone with her brother to
the Generalife, where Lautrec gave an entertainment.
Aben-Hamet, agitated by fresh doubts, instantly followed
his mistress. Lautrec blushed as he met him. Don
Carlos received the Moor with a coldness, beneath which
lurked sincere esteem. Lautrec ordered the choicest fruits
of Spain and Africa to be served in a saloon called the
Knights' hall. Round this chamber were hung portraits
of princes and knights who had conquered the Moors :
Pelagius, the Cid, Gonsalvo de Cordova., and others. The
sword of Granada's last king was placed beneath these
pictures. Aben-Hamet, restraining his mortification in his
own breast, merely said, with a lion -like air, as he gazed,
l< We know not how to paint ! "

The generous Lautrec, seeing Aben-Hamet's eyes turn,
in spite of himself, towards the sword of Boabdil, said,
lf Sir Moor ! had I foreseen that my fete would be
honoured by your presence, I would not have received you
here. Swords may be lost every day. I have seen the
most valiant of kings give up his to a successful enemy."

' ' Ah ! " cried the Moor, covering his face in his robe,
" one might lose it like Francis, but not like Boabdil ! "

Night came — torches were brought — conversation
changed its course: they besought Don Carlos to relate
the discovery of Mexico. He spoke of this unknown
world with the pompous eloquence natural to a Spaniard.
He told the misfortunes of Montezuma, described the
manners of America, the prodigies of Castilian bravery,
even the cruelties of his countrymen appeared to him de-
serving neither blame nor praise. These recitals enchanted
Aben-Hamet, whose passion for marvellous histories be-
trayed his Arab birth. In his turn he depicted the
Ottoman empire, newly seated on the ruins of Constanti-
nople, not without expressing a regret for the original em-
pire of Mahomet, those happy days when the Commander
of the Believers beheld shining round him Zobeide, the
Flower of Beauty, Force des Cceurs, Tourmente, and that
generous Ganem, made a slave by love !

Lautrec dilated on the gallant court of Francis, the arts
reviving in scenes of barbarism, the honour and loyalty of

THE LAST OF THE ABENCEBAOES. 275

olden times, united with the polished manners of a civil-
ised age ; the Gothic towers adorned with Grecian archi-
tecture; the Athenian elegance which now so improved
the rich attire of the Gallic ladies.

After these discourses, Lautrec, anxious to amuse the
divinity of this fete, took a guitar, and sung a romance
which he had composed to an air heard among the moun-
tains of his own land.*

How sweet is thy remembrance,

Fair scene that joy'd mine infant glance !

Sister, how beauteous were our days

In France !
Oh, my loved land ! be thou my praise

Always.

Rememb'rest thou our mother's worth,
When, seated by her cottage hearth,
She held us fondly to her breast

In mirth ?
And we her silver locks carest,

Both blest !

Sister, dost thou remember yet
The castle by our river wet ?
Dost thou the old Morisco tower

Regret ?
Whose brazen voice spoke with such power

Morn's hour ?

Rememb'rest thou that tranquil lake
The swallow would his mirror make ?
The reeds that bowed so as the air

Would wake?
The setting sun reflected there

So fair ?

Ah ! who my Helen will restore ?
My hill, my giant oak once more ?
Their memory bids me other days

Deplore.
Oh, my loved land ! be thou my praise

Always.

Lautrec, as he ended, dashed from his lids a tear,
forced to his eyes by the image of his charming land.
The engaging prisoner's regret found sympathy in the
breast of Aben-Hamet, who, like himself, bewailed the
loss of his country. Solicited, in his turn, to take the

* This romance is already well known to the public. I wrote the words
to an air from the hills of Auvergne, remarkable for its sweetness and sim-
plicity.

[It is not easy to give at once the meaning and the metre of a French song
in English. My version, however, goes tolerably to the tune, which I have
once heard. — TranslJ}

T 2

2? THE LAST OP THE ABENCERAGES.

guitar, he excused himself, saying that he knew but one
ballad, which might not prove welcome to Christian au-
ditors.

" If it tells of infidels lamenting our victories/' said
Don Carlos disdainfully, ' ' you may sing ; tears are per-
mitted to the vanquished."

"Yes," added Bianca, " our sires, when subjected to
the Moors, bequeathed us many of their laments."

Aben-Hamet then sung a ballad he had learnt from a
poet of the Abencerage tribe.

The king Don Juan,

One day forth to ride,
Beheld Spain's Granada,

And suddenly cried,
" Darling of cities !

My heart is thine!
I give thee my hand,

I '11 wed thee, thou 'rt mine.

Cordova and Seville

As gifts will I bring ;
Rich vestments and pearls,

Destined bride of a king ! "
Granada replied : —

" King of Leon, my fate,
Is link'd with the Moor's —

Granada 's his mate.

Keep thy gifts ! I have vestures,

And costlier ones :
For rich is my zone,

And beauteous my sons! "
Thus said she, thus lied she,

Wrong not to be borne !
For a Christian accursed

Granada 's forsworn.

Oh ! ne'er shall the camel

To his forefathers' tomb
Bear the chief of Medina;

Eclipsed is his doom !
To a Christian accursed

Our realm must submit ;
He lords o'er our birthright, —

'T was writ! It was writ !

Our lovely Alhambra,

Great Alla's fane, yields,
Sweet city of fountains,

And emerald fields !
The Abencerages

To Christians submit ;
Their home is usurped, —

It was written ; 't was writ ! " *

* Travelling through a mountainous district, between Algesirasand Cadiz, I
stopped at a Venta, in the midst of a wood. I found there only a boy, about
fourteen or fifteen, and a girl nearly the same age, who sat by the fire, making
rush mats. They sung a romance the words of which I could not compre-

THE LAST OF THK ABENCERAGES. 277

These natural complainings affected even the haughty
Don Carlos, in spite of their imprecations against the
Christians. He would gladly have been spared singing
himself, but, in courtesy to Lautrec, he felt obliged to
grant his request. Aben-Hamet handed the guitar to the
brother of Bianca, who thus celebrated the exploits of his
illustrious ancestor.

Armed to depart for Afric's hostile shore,

Roderick the Cid, with ardent valour fired,
Touched his guitar for her he deigned adore,

And sung this lay which Honour's self inspired :
" Ximena says — ' Go forth and brave the Moor ;

Return victoiious, and thy guerdon claim!
For then shall I of Roderick's truth be sure,

When he hath made Love bow to Honour's name.'

" Give, give me, then, my helmet and my spear,

I '11 prove that Roderick's heart obeys thy laws,
In battle be my name a sound of fear,

And be my cry, ' For Love's and Honour's cause! '
In Andalusia's vale shall Christians grey

Thy Roderick's deeds their theme of rapture make —
' He courted death,' exultant let them say,

' For God, his King, his Love, and Honour's sake !'"*

Don Carlos had; looked so proudly while his sonorous
voice chanted these words, that he might have been taken
for the Cid himself. The Abencerage turned pale at that
name, though Lautrec participated in the warlike enthu-
siasm of his friend.

hend, but the air was simple and pretty. The weather was horrible. I re-
mained two hours there. My young host and hostess so frequently repeated
their strain that I easily learnt its tune, on which I composed the Romance
of the Abencerages. Perhaps there might have been some mention of Aben-
Hamet in the song of my two little Spaniards. The Dialogue between Granada
and the King of Leon is imitated from an old Spanish ballad.

[It does not appear that the music of the little poem in question has ever
been published. It is utterly unknown to. me, or I would lay my accents with
lyrical precision. — Transit]

* Every one knows the air called " Les Folies d'Espagne." It was either
without any words, or with none expressing the grave, devout, and chivalrous
character which I have endeavoured to give in this romance. The verses have
been circulated without my intention, and eminent composers have honoured
me by embellishing it with their music ; but, as I had written it for the above,
named air, some of its lines become absolutely unmeaning if it be not sung
according to my original design : —

" Mon noble chant vainqueur
D'Espagne, unjour, deviendra la Folie."

In fact, the three ballads here introduced have no merit, unless they are
sung to the old and truly national airs, although they assist in bringing about
the story's catastrophe.

F As " every one " of this tale's English readers may not know the air called
" Les Folies d'Espagne " (I do not, unfortunately), I have presumed to omit
the stanza to which the Author alludes ; but have otherwise copied his gallant
song as closely as possible. — Transit

T 3

2?8 THE LAST OF THE ABENCEBAGES.

" The Cid," cried Aben-Hamet, " that knight who
was called by Christians the Flower of Battle, among us
was named the Cruel. Had his generosity equalled his
valour — — — "

" His generosity," eagerly interrupted Don Carlos, " even
surpassed his courage ; none but Moors dare calumniate
the hero to whom my family owes birth."

"What sayest thou?" cried Aben-Hamet, springing
from the seat on which he had half reclined ; (( Do'st thou
count the Cid among thy forefathers ? "

<fHis blood flows in my veins/' replied Don Carlos.
" I feel myself his descendant, by the hate which burns in
my heart against the enemies of my God."

" Ye are then," said Aben-Hamet, gazing on Bianca,
<f of those Bivars who, after the conquest of Granada,
invaded the hearths of the hapless Abencerages, and slew
an aged knight of that name as he sought to defend his
father's tomb."

" Moor ! " exclaimed Don Carlos, inflamed with rage,
" know that I brook not questions. If I now possess
the spoil of these Abencerages, my ancestors acquired it
at the cost of their blood, and owed it to their swords."

" One word more," said Aben-Hamet, with increasing
emotion. " We knew not in our exile that these Bivars
now bore the title of Santa Fe ; that ignorance has misled
me."

" It was on the very Bivar who vanquished the Aben-
cerages that the title of Santa Fe was conferred, by the
Catholic King Ferdinand," exclaimed Don Carlos.

Aben-Hamet's head sunk on his breast ; he remained
standing amid the astonished group. Torrents of tears
rushed from his eyes, and fell on the poniard in his belt.

" Pardon me," he said, " I know 'tis not for men to
weep ; henceforth my tears shall flow unseen, though much
remains for me to bemoan. Hear me ! Bianca, my love
for thee is like the burning wind of Arabia. I was sub-
dued. I could no longer live without thee. Tester even
the sight of this young warrior's prayer, thy words in the
cemetery, persuaded me to acknowledge thy God, and
pledge thee my wedded faith."

THE LAST OF THE ABENCERAGES. 279

An expression of joy from Bianca, and of surprise from
Don Carlos, interrupted Aben-Hamet. Lautrec hid his
face in his hands. The Moor guessed his thought, but,
with a despairing smile and gesture, continued —

" Sir Knight, fear not ! — But thou, Bianca, mourn for
the last Abencerage."

The startled trio, raising their hands to heaven, repeated
in dismay,

"The last Abencerage!"

Silence then reigned among these hearts, agitated by
hope, fear, love, hate, wonder, and jealousy.

Bianca fell on her knees, crying,

" God of mercy, thou justifiest my choice ! I could
love none but the descendant of heroes."

"Sister," said the irritated Don Carlos, "remember
that you are in the presence of Lautrec."

"Don Carlos," said Aben-Hamet, "suspend thy dis-
pleasure ; it is for me to restore your peace : " — then
addressing Bianca, who had again sunk on a seat, he
continued, " Houri of heaven ! genie of love and beauty !
Aben-Hamet is thy slave to his latest sigh : but learn the
full extent of his miseries. The aged man sacrificed by
thy grandsire, while protecting his home, was the father of
my father. Hear too a secret which I have hitherto con-
cealed from thee, or rather thou hast made me forget it :
when first I visited this unhappy land, my chief design
was to seek some son of the Bivars, and make him account
to me for the blood his race had shed."

" Well ? " said Bianca, the grandeur of her soul re-
straining the accents of selfish sorrow, "what is thy
resolution ? "

" The only one worthy of thee," answered Aben-Hamet;
" to restore thy vows, to satisfy, by mine eternal absence
and death, the duties which we both owe to the hostility
of our families, our countries, and our Gods. If ever
my image be effaced from thy heart — if time, which
destroys all things, should bear from thy memory the
recollection of thine Abencerage — this French knight —
thou owest the sacrifice to thy brother."
T 4

280 THE LAST OF THE ABENCERAGES.

s

Lautrec rose impetuously,, and threw himself into the
arms of the Moor, crying,

te No, Aben-Hamet, think not to excel me in generosity.
I am a Frenchman, knighted by Bayard. I have shed my
blood for my king. I must be, like my sponsor and my
prince,, * without fear or reproach.' If thou wilt stay
with us, I beseech Don Carlos to give thee his sister's
hand : if thou quittest Granada, never shall an allusion to
my love disturb thy mistress. Thou shalt not bear with
thee to exile the cruel idea that Lautrec, insensible to thy
virtues, seeks to profit by thy misfortunes."

The young knight pressed the Moor to his heart, with all
the warmth and vivacity of his nation.

ef Sirs," said Don Carlos, " I expected no less from
your high birth. Aben-Hamet, by what sign am I to
recognise you as the last Abencerage ?"

" By my conduct," replied the Moor.

" I admire it," added the Spaniard; " but, ere I ex-
plain myself, give me some proof of your descent."

Aben-Hamet drew from his breast the hereditary ring,
which he wore suspended by a chain of gold.

At the sight of this Don Carlos extended his hand to
the unhappy Abencerage.

" Sir Knight," he said, " I acknowledge you as a man
of integrity, the true son of Kings. You honour me by
your designs on my family. I accept the combat you
came privately to seek. If I am vanquished, all my
wealth, formerly that of your house, shall be faithfully
restored to you. If you renounce the fight, accept my
offer, become a Christian, and receive the hand of my
sister, which Lautrec has demanded for you."

The temptation was great ; but not beyond the strength
of Aben-Hamet. Though Love, with all his power,
pleaded in that heart, it could not contemplate, without
dread, the idea of an union between the descendant of the
persecutors and that of their victims. He thought he
beheld the shade of his grandsire rising from the tomb,
to forbid an alliance so sacrilegious. Pierced with despair,
he cried, " Ah ! must I meet such sublime souls, such
generous dispositions, only the more to feel how much I

THE LAST OF THE ABENCERAGES. 281

lose. Let Bianca decide ! let her say what I ought to do,
that I may be more worthy of her love ! "

" Return to the Desert," pronounced Bianca, and fainted.

Aben-Hamet threw himself to the earth. He adored
Bianca even more than heaven, and departed without a
word. The same night he set forth for Malaga, and em-
barked in a vessel which touched at Oran ; near that place
he found encamped the caravan which, every third year,
left Morocco, crossed Africa to Egypt, and, at Yemen, joined
the Caravan of Mecca. Aben-Hamet ranked himself
among the pilgrims.

Bianca, whose sorrow at first threatened her existence,
revived. Lautrec, faithful to his pledge, withdrew. Each
year, the sad daughter of Santa Fe wandered o'er the hills
of Malaga, at the season in which her lover was wont to
return ; she sat upon the rocks, gazed o'er the sea, with
its far off sails, and then returned to Granada ; passing
the rest of her time amid the ruins of the Alhambra. She
complained not, wept not, nor ever spoke of Aben-Hamet :
a stranger might have deemed her happy. She alone re-
mained of her kindred. Don Roderick died of grief.
Don Carlos fell in a duel ; but supported by his brother
in arms, Lautrec. The destiny of Aben-Hamet was never
known.

As the traveller leaves Tunis, by the gate leading to the
ruins of Carthage, he sees a burial ground ; beneath a
palm, in a retired nook, I was shown a tomb which they
called the grave of the last Abencerage. It is in no way
remarkable. The sepulchral stone is quite plain ; but,,
according to Moorish custom, they have dug in its centre
a slight hollow : the rain drops are collected by this
funeral-chalice, and, in that burning clime, serve to re-
fresh the birds of heaven.

THE END.

THE

NVOLUNTARY PROPHET;

A TALE OF THE EARLY AGES.

BY THE AUTHOR OF

" BRAMBLETYE HOUSE," « ZILLAH,"

&c.

" This not alone has shone on ages past,
But lights the present" POPB.

LONDON:

ICHARD BENTLEY, 8. NEW BURLINGTON STREET
(SUCCESSOR TO HENRY COLBURN) :

BELL AND BRADFUTE, EDINBURGH,
J. CUMMING, DUBLIN.

1835.

THE

INVOLUNTARY PROPHET;

A TALE OF THE EARLY AGES.

CHAPTER I.

OH ! how pleasant and piquant is the power of an
Author, and how doth it lift its ecstatic possessor, when
inspired by the divine afflatus of composition, above the
cares and control of this dull plodding earth ! Ubiquitous
and almost omnipotent, he, he alone can realise the fan-
tastical wish of the Amorist who called upon the Gods to
annihilate both space and time, and make two lovers happy.
" The world is all before him where to choose," and what
earthly autocrat so potent as the writer, whose dominions
are uncircumscribed, who may range even beyond the
limits of reality, and who possesses a plenary power of
life and death within the whole extent of his illimitable
jurisdiction ? After all, however, the Promethean figures
that he creates will remain inanimate, unless the reader
can vivify them with fire stolen from the heaven of his
own imagination. Both parties must contribute to the
vitality, or the efforts of the most vigorous fictionists will
be abortive. Avaunt ! then, all ye phlegmatic and matter-
of-fact souls, dull slaves to the visible and the tangible,
who are content to browse upon the ignorant present, and
to remain tethered to your corporeal teguments ; but hither
come, ye nimble, quick-witted, and apprehensive spirits,
who can escape from the body as a bird from its cage, and

286 THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

when ye dispread your wings,, can roam at will over the
wilds of space, and track the backward stream of time
through all its dark meanderings.

Most benign and imaginative reader ! I perceive by my
auctorial intuition that thou art of this latter class ; there-
fore do I cheerfully touch thy shoulder with my enchanted
pen, and lo ! thy disembodied spirit, thrown back into the
first century, is whisking with me through the charmed
air, athwart the heaving billows of the English channel,
and over the hills and valleys of Gaul, in the direction of
Italy. Be not alarmed ; thy fellow traveller is not an
Asmodean demon ; thou art not riding upon a witch's
broomstick, nor poised upon the waxen pinions of Icarus,
nor bestriding the enchanted horse of Prince Firouz Schah;
but securely floating upon the buoyant wings of imagin-
ation, which can transport thee to the uttermost bounds of
the earth without fatigue or danger. Soh ! we have cleft
the air C( swifter than arrow from a Tartar's bow," and
see ! how the unalterable bounty of Nature scatters her
favours not less lavishly in the first century than in the
nineteenth " o'er the vine-cover'd hills and gay valleys of
France." They diminish — they melt together — they fade
away from our sight ; — already have we left that pleasant
region behind us ; fleet as a sunbeam do we pierce the air,
whose glassy transparency and genial warmth give assur-
ance that we are approaching the summer shores of Italy.
Behold ! that gleaming mirror beneath us of the purest
and deepest blue is the Mediterranean Sea ; on our left is
the mountainous island of Corsica ; opposite to it are the
plains and woods of Sardinia ; and before us I can dis-
tinguish the mouth of the river Tiber, and the busy port
of Ostia. Let us repress our wings, and drop nearer to
the e,arth, for our present flight is almost ended. What
say you, my aerial companion ? — you would fain speak,
but the rapidity of our motion has taken away your breath.
I can divine your thoughts. You are weary, and would
feel the ground once more. Not yet — not yet. Keep
your pinions outstretched, and this western breeze will
soon float us forward to our destined point. There ! said
I not sooth ? — Already may we discern, by the dazzling

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. 28?

splendour and the deafening noise, that we are approaching
the " opes strepitumque Romse." Yes, there, outstretched
upon her seven hills, is the mighty mistress of the world,
the heart of the universe, the imperial city, whose inhabit-
ants are counted by millions, and whose encircling walls
enclose a whole province. Heavens ! what a magnificent
and apparently interminable succession of temples, baths,
triumphal arches, porticoes, aqueducts, columns, theatres,
hippodromes, gardens, gates, palaces, and mansions ! and
how fair and resplendent appears that vast portion of the
city which has been lately rebuilt after the great fire ! Let
us fold our wings and descend to earth, — here to the west-
ward in the Trans-tiberine region. It is pleasant to feel
our feet upon terra firma, and yet, after having had the
wide unobstructed sky to ourselves, it is somewhat irksome
to be shouldered and impeded at every step by this con-
fused assemblage of passengers, while we are half deafened
by the rumbling of an unbroken string of carts, carriages,
vehicles of every description, the hoarse voices of the
chairmen, and all the Babel cries of the innumerable hawk-
ers and venders.

Here we are at the Palatine Bridge ; but when we shall
be able to pass it I know not, unless we again dispread our
wings ; for no one dares take precedence of these sacred
oxen, all branded with an arrow, attended by the priests,
and destined for sacrifice at the Temple of Apollo. Be-
hind them, too, I see a train of caravans, the roaring and
howling of whose inmates announce that they are wild
beasts for the supply of the amphitheatres ; and, in front
of us, I behold one of the rich Roman knights going out
in procession to his country house, followed by a little
army of slaves, freedmen, clients, and retainers, the latter
of whom mean to accompany him as far as the Janiculan
gate. Now, now ! let us dart across behind the oxen.
There ! we are fairly over, and can make our way into the
very heart of the city, as fast as the thick and increasing
stream of passengers will allow us. That crowded street
leads to the Forum ; this building on our right is the
Temple of Fortune ; to our left is the street Agrippa,
leading to the great baths ; yonder is the Theatre of Mar-

288 THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

cellus, and the Temple of Janus ; and here we are at the
Palatine Mount, which we must ascend slowly, in spite of
your eagerness, for the gownd nation, as you may perceive,
are a grave and dignified people, and affect a manly com-
posedness in all their gestures and proceedings. Now that
we have gained the summit, you will leave unnoticed all
the other glories of the city, in order that you may rivet
your eyes upon this stupendous and magnificent enclosure,
stretching from the hill on which we stand, for more than
a mile in breadth, to the Esquiline Mount, and entirely
surrounded by a spacious portico, supported by three rows
of columns, and embellished with a profusion of sculpture
and statuary. It is the newly-built palace of Nero, called
the Golden House. Within the spacious grounds, which
contain every variety of wood and water, hill and dale,
interspersed with temples, pleasure-houses, and baths sup-
plied with sea and mineral waters, are ploughed lands,
meadows, fish-ponds, and preserves for wild beasts and
game.

Come ! shall we pass through the enclosure, and take a
peep at the interior buildings ? Remember, we are in-
visible; and, instead of fearing the challenge of those Prae-
torian soldiers stationed at the guard-house, we may boldly
make our way through the very midst of them. Said I
not sooth ? — Here we are in the gardens, the marble statues
of which are on every side finely relieved by a luxuriant
back-ground of trees and rare plants. Is not the palace a
most glorious structure ? Nay, do not draw back. Those
fierce-looking body-guards of the emperor will not arrest
our progress ; they are not even conscious of our presence.
See ! we are in the vestibule : yonder colossus in the centre,
one hundred and twenty feet in height, representing Nero
himself, is the work of Zenodorus the statuary. Let us
pass onward and ascend the great staircase, in spite of the
gigantic German body-guards, and the crowd of servants
stationed at its foot. Here we are in one of the dining-
rooms wainscoted with ivory, the panels of which, turning
upon pins, form moving pictures. This second apartment,
which is circular, and perhaps the finest of the whole,
represents the heavens, and imitates, by its rotatory motion,

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. 289

that of the celestial bodies. Pass we on to yonder smaller
and plainer chamber, secured with double doors and another
guard, in spite of which impediments we have made our
way within it. Seated near a table, on which musical in-
struments are placed, and having a strong box upon the
floor beside him, you behold a man about thirty-two years
of age, with a large stomach and little legs, his small eyes
enveloped in fat, his thick throat and chin joined together.
Pallid and bloodless, his complexion and skin have the
appearance of pork ; the upward turn of his chin indicates
cruelty, while his fair hair, slight legs, and the somewhat
handsome form of his features, convey an expression of
effeminacy. A little behind him, leaning on a crutch-
headed stick, and casting at her companion a scowl of
malignant defiance, stands a toothless withered hag, whose
countenance, distorted by every hateful passion, is like a
map of Pandemonium. That man is the Emperor Nero ;
the beldame is Locusta, the celebrated poisoner, whose
murderous art has been put in frequent requisition by her
present associate. And now, gentle reader, having thus
formally introduced you to the personages with whom I
commence my tale, I shall relieve you from the trouble of
further colloquy, and pursue my narrative without inter-
ruption.

f ' Rebellious hag ! " cried the Emperor fiercely, " do
you dare to refuse ? I command you to obey me."

" I am willing to poison the whole senate at the ap-
proaching banquet, should such be your wish," replied
Locusta, and her malignant eye seemed to express a fiend-
ish delight at the very thought ; " but against the life of
Festus I will never practise, and where he is concerned, I
tell you once more, Caesar — nay, you may frown as you
please — that I will not obey you." She uttered the ne-
gative in a loud, almost in an insulting voice, and struck
her stick sharply upon the ground, as if to confirm the
inflexibility of her resolution.

" Does the wrinkled beldame doat? " said Nero, leaning
back in his chair, and surveying his companion with un-
feigned astonishment, while he passed his hands over the
strings of a lute laid upon his lap ; tc or has she become
u

290 THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

conscientious, and frightened at the fable of the Fates and
Furies ? How now, Locusta ! you never boggled at a
murder before, and what is there in the name of Festus,
to scare you from the exercise of your noble calling ? "

" When I was once in the street Janus, beset by the
populace, who would have stoned me to death for the
crimes I had committed at your suggestion, Festus gave
me refuge in his house, and saved my life, and I then swore
by Hecate that I would for ever stand his friend."

" Hear her ! hear her ! " cried the Emperor, with a
sneering laugh, " Locusta, the wholesale poisoner, has
become devout and tender-hearted, and fears to break an
oath, vowed to the infernal goddess of magic and enchant-
ments ! "

'" Be my crimes what they may, this shall not be added
to them."

" By Apollo ! my preceptor, Seneca, never uttered a
finer thought; but if your gratitude is so lively, most moral
murderess, methinks you might recollect the estate that I
bestowed upon you in Campania."

" Bestowed upon me ! Did I not earn it, ay, and
grievously too, by the poisoning of Marcus Silanus and
Claudius, at the instance of Agrippina; of your brother
Britannicus, by your own special order; of your bosom
friend Burrhus; of Doryphorus and Pallas, your freedmen ;
and of so many others, that I cannot even recall their names?
Gratitude, indeed ! you have only paid me, and poorly
enough too, for making you what you are, — although, I
must confess, you have given me one thing to which I was
not entitled."

fc What may that be, hag ? " inquired Nero with a look
of some surprise.

' ' A blow ! " cried Locusta, holding up her shrivelled
forefinger in a menacing attitude. " Yes, Caesar, you were
man enough to strike me, because the first poison I admin-
istered to Britannicus failed of its effect. For this I am
grateful ; this I promise you never to forget."

<f Traitress ! hold your envenomed tongue. You forget
at least that I can now do without you. In this box are
abundant specimens of all the deadly compounds you

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. ^91

have ever concocted. I have made you instruct pupils in
your art, who may prove equally skilful and more docile
than yourself ; what therefore should hinder me, now that
you are no longer necessary to me, from giving you over to
the punishment you have so richly merited ?"

" Caesar ! I defy your menaces !" croaked Locusta, re-
coiling to a corner of the apartment. " What ! is it you
who forget that I am a sorceress and enchantress, as well
as a poisoner ? " Fixing her sharp evil eye upon the
Emperor, she drew a painted wand from beneath her cloak,
and holding it extended towards his face, began to mutter
incantations that chimed upon the words " Dis, Erebus,
and Nox."

Nero, who was at once impious and superstitious, felt a
profound alarm at this proceeding. His bloodless face as-
sumed a still more wan expression ; a cold perspiration
started from his forehead, and the tyrant, whose very name
inspired terror throughout the whole extent of the earth,
trembled at the menaces of a decrepid old woman. Starting
hastily from his chair, he seized a small image representing
a girl, which had been presented to him as a charmed
preservative against plots, and which he honoured as his
supreme divinity, constantly offering to it three sacrifices a
day. This he held up before him, like a shield, and re-
seating himself, exclaimed with a forced air of complacency :
" Come, come, Locusta, I spoke but in jest ; we must not
quarrel. You and 1 are sucli old friends."

" That I may well suspect you of wishing to deprive
me of life ; — it is thus that you have served all your oldest
and best friends."

" Be pacified, good mother of all wickedness. Festus
shall be spared ; but all the others that I have named must
perish, and your reward shall be proportioned to this ac-
ceptable service."

11 I ask you, Csesar, but to spare Festus : for the others
the funeral supper may already be prepared."

1 e Good ! good ! Oh ! that the most deadly of your drugs

were forced down the throat of the accursed rebel Galba,

who threatens to deprive me of my empire. Tell me,

Locusta, if I gave a public banquet to the whole Senate,

u 2

292 THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

could you not contrive to poison them all, — all, the whole
nest of traitors at once ? We will talk of it — this must
be done ; but for the present away, away ! and let those
perish quickly whose names I have given to you."

" Caesar ! I obey. Farewell ! "

" And thyself, audacious hag ! " cried Nero, as soon as
the double doors were closed behind Locusta, " shall perish,
before thou canst complete thy enchantments and incanta-
tions. The insurrection spreads ; all Gaul and several of
the other provinces have declared for Galba, and he has
numerous confederates within the walls of Rome. I have
been too humane — too sparing ; I will be quick and
sweeping in my revenge. All the governors of provinces
and generals of my armies shall be put to death as joint
conspirators : I will send orders to the islands to massacre
all that are in exile ; every family in Rome, of Gaulish ex-
traction, shall be exterminated ; the whole of Gaul shall be
given up to plunder ; the entire Senate shall be poisoned ;
and, after setting fire to the city in twenty quarters at once,
I will turn loose all the wild beasts of the amphitheatres, to
prevent the people from extinguishing the conflagration.
Yes. The whole world shall feel what it is to rebel against
Nero, the best emperor, and the finest musician that ever
lived."

He walked up and down the room two or three times,
meditating these and other schemes of still more atrocious
vengeance, when his eye fell upon the little statue, and im-
agining that it might have preserved him from the incan-
tations of Locusta, he replaced it in the shrine from which
it had been taken, and proceeded to offer it sacrifice, with
every mark of profound and grateful reverence. This cere-
mony concluded, he played two or three tunes upon the
fiddle, to the accompaniment of his own voice, which ap-
parently suggested to him the triumphs he had lately
achieved in the Grecian games ; for he went to an inner
apartment, where were hung the eighteen hundred crowns
he had won, with pompous inscriptions, recording the nature
of the contest, as well as the names of the games, and of
the adversaries he had vanquished. " Ha ! " he exclaimed,
with a smile of vainglorious ecstasy, " there they are !

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. 293

and does the rebellious, the besotted old Galba think to
conquer the man who has won all these ? By the Temple
of Apollo ! the traitor must be mad. Has he forgotten
how recently I entered Rome in triumph, when the Senate,
knights, and people rent the air with shouts of * Long live
the victor of the Olympic and Pythian games ! Long live
the Emperor ! Nero is a second Hercules ! Nero is a
second Apollo ! He alone, since the commencement of
time, has deserved this glory. Celestial voice ! happy they
who hear you ! ' Was not the whole city upon that glorious
occasion illuminated, and adorned with wreaths and gar-
lands ? The streets were strewed with powdered saffron,
incense fumed at every corner, sacrifices were offered to me
as to a god ; and as I passed along, my triumphal car was
loaded to overflow with the flowers, garlands, birds, and
pastry, cast upon me by the delighted millions of Rome."

Putting the Olympic crown of wild olive upon his head,
and taking the Pythian crown of laurel in his hand, he
strutted fantastically about the room, indulging in the most
puerile and empty braggadocios to persuade himself that he
was a second Apollo, a real immortal, and thus to banish
the mortal fears awakened by the formidable insurrection of
Galba. To confirm him in this desiderated oblivion, he
sent for his mimes, singers, and minions, and the rest of the
evening was passed in frivolous and childish games, idle
gasconades, and gross debauchery, only suspended when he
paused to meditate some new project of cruelty and ven-
geance.

Thus, like Belshazzar, did he carouse even at the
moment when his empire was rapidly passing away from
him. The Praetorians, retiring to their camp, had pro-
claimed Galba Emperor ; and Nero, awaking about mid-
night, was astonished to find he had no guards. Jumping
out of bed, he hurried with a few of his freedmen and slaves
to the houses of his friends, in order to consult them.
Every door was shut, nobody would answer him ; and, on
his return to his palace, he found that the officers of his
bedchamber had decamped, after plundering the apartment,
and carrying off his box of poison. Driven to despair, he
thought for a moment of throwing himself headlong into the
u 3

( THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

Tiber; but Phaon, one of his freedmen, proposing to conceal
him in a small house that he possessed, about four miles from
Rome, Nero accepted his offer., and without awaiting to put
sandals upon his feet, and only equipped in a tunic, he
wrapped himself up in a brown-coloured cloak,, covered his
head, held a handkerchief to his face, mounted on horse-
back, and rode away with only four attendants.

CHAPTER II.

ONE of those who accompanied the Emperor in his flight
was a Jew, named Aaron, of Gibeon. Though thus called
from the place of his birth, his residence had been at
Jerusalem, where he had carried on the business of a dealer
in drugs and perfumes, deriving profit from supplying the
Temple with the latter commodities, as well as from his
being occasionally engaged, on the festivals and great cere-
monies, to play upon the psaltery, of which he was a per-
fect master. In an insurrection of his countrymen he had
encouraged them by singing some of the Maccabee war-
hymns to the accompaniment of this instrument, in which
rebellious occupation he was taken prisoner by the Romans,
who would immediately have put him to death, as an in-
cendiary and disturber of the public peace, but for the in-
terference of one of their officers. Struck by the sound
and appearance of the psaltery, which he had never before
seen, the Roman conceived that his prisoner might prove
an acceptable present to Nero, who was not only passion-
ately addicted to music of all sorts, but ever ready to bestow
liberal rewards on those who could stimulate his jaded senses
by the excitement of a new pleasure. Being ordered home
with despatches, the officer carried his captive with him to
Rome. Nor was he disappointed in his expectations ; for
Nero, smitten with the instrument, and pleased with the
strange garb and appearance of the bearded performer, gave
a large recompense to the soldier who brought him to the pa~

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. 2,95

lace, and received the Jew among the number of his musical
slaves. He even condescended to take lessons of him ; and his
instructor, who was by no means deficient in the cunning of
his nation, and had besides received a friendly hint on the
subject, took good care to be very soon surpassed by his
pupil. With the subtlety of the Hebrews, Aaron possessed
also his full share of their religious patriotism ; and being
not less weary of the perpetual taunts and insults to which
he was exposed in the palace, than anxious to return to
Jerusalem, where he had left a wife and daughter, to both
of whom he was tenderly attached, he humbly implored
Nero to set him free, observing with artful flattery, that as
he was now completely eclipsed in his own profession,
there could be no reason for retaining him as a musician.

" You desire freedom, and who are so free as the dead? "
asked Nero, quoting the line of a play in which he had
often publicly acted. The petitioner slunk from his pre-
sence abashed, for he knew that the Emperor had conferred
this unwelcome species of freedom on many of his mimes
and parasites when they ceased to amuse him, or presumed
to solicit their manumission ; and he dreaded a similar
fate for himself, should he ever renew his application.

Rendered half desperate by incessantly thinking of his
wife and child, and of his beloved country, just then about
to enter into a formal war with the Roman power, the
Jew had nearly resolved to attempt his escape from the
palace at all risks, when, at the moment of Nero's flight,
accident made him acquainted with his design j and he
offered to accompany him, not, as it may well be supposed,
from any attachment to the tyrant, but in the hope that
he would take him with him to Egypt, whither he talked
of retiring, and whence, as he flattered himself, he might
easily find his way to Jerusalem. Nero, humbled, terrified,
and willing to accept any services that were offered to him
in the present extremity of his fate, granted his request,
only binding him to inviolable secrecy ; and the fugitives,
muffling themselves up in their cloaks, trembling with
apprehension, and dreading an enemy in every being they
encountered, stole out of Rome by the least frequented
route they could select.

u 4

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

A hole having been made in the wall of Phaon's house
at Ostia, in order that the entrance of the party might not
be discovered, the Emperor crawled through ; and, in a
room belonging to one of the slaves, laid himself down to
rest on an old mattress covered with a ragged quilt. As
he still complained of hunger and thirst, they brought him
some brown bread, which he refused, and only drank a
little warm water ; after which, worn out with his exer-
tions, and with the want of repose on the preceding night,
he at length fell asleep.

His dreams had probably presented him some pleasant
images connected with his sanguinary projects ; for he
awoke with a smiling countenance, exclaiming — ft Is it
done, Locusta? — are they all dead — the whole Senate?"
but as a glance showed him the miserable bed on which he
lay, his countenance suddenly fell, his real situation rushed
upon his memory, and he struck his hands sharply together,
crying out, " I am lost ! — I am lost ! there is an end of
Nero !" Inquiring eagerly of Aaron, who sat by his bed-
side, whether any fresh news had been received from Rome,
he was informed that one of Phaon's servants had just ar-
rived, bringing with him the decree of the Senate against
the ex-Emperor.

"The w-Emperor!" cried Nero, starting up in his
bed, while a momentary fierceness passed over his features ;
but their dejected expression almost instantly returned, and
he continued, with a mournful voice — cc Where is the man?
— let him be introduced — let me see their decree. Oh !
that I had poisoned them all beforehand ! "

Phaon's servant, on entering the apartment, fell on
his knee, with the customary salutation of, " Hail !
Caesar ! " when the Emperor, impatiently muttering, t( Not
Caesar, not Emperor, but Claudius Domitius Nero, and
soon to be a heap of ashes ! " snatched the decree from his
hand, and ran over it with starting eyes. Scarcely had he
finished its perusal, when the soldiers sent to arrest him
beset his hiding-place, and the tyrant finally committed
suicide, under circumstances of puerile procrastination and
irresolution, which must be too well known to the reader
to require recapitulation. After his death, the companions

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. 297

of his flight quitted the cottage and dispersed themselves,
according to the impulse of their several hopes and fears.

Leaving the others to their fate, it is our purpose to
follow the fortunes of Aaron the Jew, who being conscious
that, as a palace-slave, he was still the property of Nero's
successor, whoever he might be, resolved at all events not
to return to Rome, but to endeavour to make his way back
to Judaea. Although he had secured a purse of gold
before he quitted the palace, which would so far facilitate
his project, he was aware that it was by no means of easy
accomplishment. His servile dress might be thrown aside,
and by assuming the freedman's cap of liberty, he might
escape interrogation or detention ; but religious scruples
forbade him to cut off his beard, and there was no small
danger in travelling as one of the Jews, whom the Pagans
often identified with the Christians. In the ruthless and
horrible persecution to which the latter had been subjected
after the burning of Rome, of which they were falsely
accused, many Hebrews had perished, the Romans not
always stopping to discriminate between Judaean Christians
and unconverted Jews. To avoid this peril, and yet pre-
serve his cherished beard, Aaron provided a loose robe and
staff, and gave himself out for an Egyptian philosopher,
returning to his own country. In this garb he made his
way to Ostia, well knowing that the sooner he got on board
ship, the greater would be his chance of safety and escape ;
but while he was inquiring for a vessel, he heard an officer
make proclamation, in the name of the new Emperor, warn-
ing all deserters and runaway slaves to return to their posts,
and offering rewards to those who should discover and
apprehend them. Imagining that every eye was turned
towards himself, and that the public informers, always a
numerous and dreaded body, would be rendered doubly
vigilant by the promised recompense, he retreated from
the populous town of Ostia, and, concealing himself for
some time in the vicinity, only ventured forth in the dusk
of the evening to purchase provisions, and seek for a ship
bound to Syria or any part of the East.

Two days after this occurrence, he was fortunate enough
to procure a passage on board a vessel bound for Cythnos,

298 THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

one of the islands of the jEgean Sea, laden chiefly with
sculptures and ornaments destined for a temple of Nep-
tune, newly erected upon the island, and having on board
several priests of the marine deity, who were to officiate in
his new fane, and who had heen to Rome to solicit con-
tributions. Although sincerely attached to his faith, which
indeed constituted the patriotism as well as the religion of
the Jews, Aaron was not zealot enough to run the risk of
being thrown overboard by inveighing against the super-
stitious practices of his fellow-passengers. Sacrifice was
offered every day before a figure of Neptune, enshrined on
the deck, and his protection was duly invoked by the priests
and crew, most of whom were Greeks ; notwithstanding
which assiduous homage of his votaries, the deity treated
them but scurvily. One dark night, they ran against a
large ship coming from Egypt with an enormous obelisk
of granite intended to adorn the palace of Nero, when
their vessel received so much damage in the shock, that
they were obliged to put into port to repair. Subsequently
she sprang a leak, which compelled them again to run for
the nearest harbour, where they were detained some time ;
and when they at length approached Cythnos, displayed
the sacred flag of Neptune, and expected that every boat
belonging to the island would gather round with music and
hymns, to escort them triumphantly to the quay, and pro-
ceed thence in grand procession to the temple of their
patron deity, they were not a little startled at finding
themselves surrounded with galleys of war, crowded with
a medley of wild, ferocious-looking men, who scrambled
on board with arms in their hand, and most unceremo-
niously took possession of the vessel in the name of the Em-
peror Nero, before whom they summoned the priests, crew,
and passengers to make their immediate appearance, as-
serting that he was at that moment honouring the Island
with his august presence.

Detestable as he was and every way worthy of execra-
tion, the deceased tyrant had numerous partisans so zealous
to honour his memory that some of them for several years
decked his tomb with flowers, while others covertly re-
placed his statue in the Tribunal for harangues, and
publ ished edicts in his name, as if he were soon to re-

THK INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. 299

appear, and revenge hinself on his enemies. Nor need
we wonder at this infatuation, if we recollect that his
frequent largesses and general relaxation of discipline must
naturally have gained him the soldiers' hearts ; while the
licentious entertainments in which he had taken part, and
his open encouragement of every vice, were equally calcu-
lated to attach to him the lovers of pleasure, and all the
haters of moral restraint. In the general corruption of
manners ttyen prevailing, these would form a numerous
class, all eager to propagate the report that their imperial
patron was still living ; a rumour to which the Christians,
smarting under the cruelties he had inflicted, lent them-
selves by indulging the notion that he still remained in
the flesh, and was reserved to he the Antichrist.

Encouraged by the prevalence of this strange report, as
well as by the disorders that intervened between the death
of the tyrant, and the establishment of his successor, an
obscure but audacious freedman, who resembled the de-
ceased Emperor in figure and musical talent, and wanted
not the courage that might support his imposture, started
up in Pontus, and gave himself out for Nero. The Roman
empire had always been infested with gangs of runaway
slaves, gladiators, deserters, and malefactors, ready to enrol
themselves under any commander who could lead them on
to plunder. By the most magnificent promises — for he
had nothing else to bestow — the counterfeit Nero drew to
his standard a pretty numerous band of these desperadoes
and marauders, with whom he embarked ; and being
thrown by a storm upon the Island Cytlmos, assumed in
form the name of Claudius Domitius Nero, and caused
himself to be proclaimed Caesar and Emperor. Having
succeeded in enlisting some soldiers who were returning
from the East upon furlough, he acted most unequivocally
up to his assumed character ; putting to death those who
refused to acknowledge him ; committing acts of piracy
upon the JEgean sea ; and devoting the plunder thus ac-
quired to the purchase of arms and the equipment of his
heterogeneous band.

A detachment of these insurgents having taken pos-
session of the vessel in which Aaron was sailing on her
arrival at Cythnos, overhauled the cargo, without much

300

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

respect for its sacred character and destination, and hurried
the crew and passengers before the soi-disant Emperor.
They found him seated upon an extempore throne in the
atrium of a handsome house, with eagles, lictors, fasces,
and all the mingled symhols of military and civil authority
displayed ostentatiously before him, while he was sur-
rounded by a motley assemblage of as ferocious-looking
freebooters as ever cut a throat ; a few completely armed,
some half equipped, and the rest brandishing such sub-
stitutes for weapons as they had been able to convert upon
the spur of the occasion. Aaron observed that this ex-
travagant impostor affected to imitate his prototype not
only in his voice, and vulgar familiarity of manner, but
even in his musical mania, and his fantastical freaks of
tyranny. Since his arrival in the island, indeed, he had
been endeavouring to establish his authenticity by several
capricious acts of cruelty, ordering one man to be scourged
to death for omitting his titles of Caesar and Emperor ;
another to be beheaded for accidentally treading upon his
toe ; a third to be poisoned for sending him up an un-
palatable dish at dinner; and others to suffer capital punish-
ment for delinquencies equally trivial. When he sat in
judgment — for he decided every thing himself — he oc-
casionally suspended the proceedings to play a tune upon
the riddle, picking his teeth afterwards, and yawning, and
pronouncing the fatal sentence of " I, Lictor, Expedi
cruces," with such a drawling unconcern, that many who
had previously doubted his identity, were induced to change
their opinion, believing that none but the genuine and
veritable Nero would presume to exercise his imperial
functions with so careless and consummate an atrocity.
The priests of Neptune, after being stripped of the pious
offerings they brought with them from Rome, were dis-
missed to their temple, which he had already plundered ;
with the assurance, however, that the whole should be
faithfully refunded when he was re-established in plenary
authority as Emperor. The crew, being all able-bodied
men, were impressed into his service ; and there now only
remained to dispose of Aaron, who in answer to the inter-
rogatories put' to him, and in reliance upon the ignorance

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. 301

of his examinant, boldly declared himself to be an Egyptian
philosopher, who had been travelling for instruction and
amusement, and was now returning to his own country.

" I see the cloak arid the beard," said the upstart Em-
peror ; " but I do not yet see the philosopher. What
may the word mean, pr'y thee ? "

" Caesar is pleased to jest," replied Aaron, making the
act of homage ; " he is doubtless well aware that a philo-
sopher, if he deserves the name, is a lover of wisdom."

" And pray, good lover of wisdom, how much can you
pay me for your ransom, if I suffer you to pursue your
journey to the land of priests and crocodiles ? "

" I need not remind the Emperor that philosophers are
always poor."

" Then you are fools, not lovers of wisdom. What
avails your musty lore, unless it can gratify your wishes,
elevate you above your fellow men, enable you to trample
them beneath your feet, and make you a sort of god upon
earth ? "

" I was not aware that even wealth could effect all this."

" But all that I have said, ay, and more too, can be
accomplished by this," cried the sham Caesar, suddenly
drawing his sword ; " nay, start not — I will spare your
throat for the present ; I will not even snip your beard —
yes, this shining bit of steel is your only true philosophy,
for it can enable its possessor to make Fortune herself his
slave, and cut his way. — Lictors ! guards ! seize me yon-
der fellow standing on the bench ; he has not only pre-
sumed to make himself taller than Caesar, but has squinted
at me twice. The third time might be ominous, so take
him out, and whip me off his head. — Away ! " The unfor-
tunate squinter was hurried out of the room, and his head
struck from his shoulders before he had time to expostulate
against the sentence ; while the bystanders, instead of
being shocked at this act of atrocity, saw in it nothing but
an additional proof that its author could be no other than
the indisputable Nero, to some of whose playful enormities
it certainly bore a striking resemblance. " Where was I ? "
drawled the impostor, again turning towards Aaron. " I
was observing that the philosopher who knows how to

302 THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

wield a sword may carve his own fortune, and cut his way
to a throne, which, I take it, is somewhat better worth
than the idle war of words, and the empty sophisms that
you dignify with the name of wisdom. Pr'ythee what
canst do, thou bearded goat ? Canst fight, or blow a
trumpet, or fabricate arms, or perform any thing that
may assist me to equip my brave soldiers ? "

Aaron answered in the negative, hoping that by making
himself out to be unserviceable he should receive his dis-
missal.

" Why then, good lover of wisdom, and sapient doer of
nothing, thou art an ass, and a useless consumer of victuals,"
resumed his interrogator ; iC and as such shalt be put to
death forthwith, unless thy philosophy can give thee as
many noddles as Cerberus. Let this bearded fellow's
head — stay — thou may'st perchance procure ransom. I
give thee five days for that purpose, and if the gold be not
then forthcoming, thou shalt assuredly share the fate of
the squinter. I have said. — Away with him to prison !
Bring me my lute, and let supper be served instantly."

So saying, the mock Emperor descended from his throne,
and withdrew with some of his chosen compotators to the
eating apartment, while Aaron, cast into a dark and un-
wholesome dungeon, had leisure to reflect on the strange
fate which, just' as he had escaped from the clutches of
one Nero, threw him into the fangs of another still more
ferocious and ruthless. In the eyes of the latter, as he
had just witnessed, human life appeared to be a matter of
utter insignificance ; so that if the remnant of gold which
he had concealed about his person did not procure a remis-
sion of the sentence, there could be no doubt whatever that
at the end of five days he would be sacrificed to the freaks
of this sanguinary impostor. His wife, his daughter, his
beloved Jerusalem, and the store of shekels and maccabees
which he had buried in the cellar of his house in the Holy
City, mournfully haunted his imagination, and he saw no
hope, in whatever direction he turned his thoughts, except
the vague possibility that before the end of five days some
accident might happen to the truculent pretender, and thus
preventsthe execution of his purpose.

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. 303

Even this chance, feeble as it was, was soon utterly de-
royed. Aaron had been indiscreet enough to mention that

had seen the dead body of Nero, in the hearing of one
of the sailors, who, either out of some grudge he had con-
ceived against the Jew, or more probably in the expecta-
tion of reward from the mock Emperor, related to him
what he had heard.

t( Ha ! hath he seen Nero's dead body ? " exclaimed
the latter; " then, by the beard of Jupiter ! and by the
temple of Apollo ! I will see his, and thus shall we be
quits. Let a gibbet be erected thirty feet high, and give
the lying knave notice that he shall dangle upon it at noon
to-morrow."

At this unexpected announcement, Aaron was reduced
to despair, nor could he even compose his thoughts, so as
to be enabled to meet his fate with becoming fortitude ; for
the noise of erecting the scaffolding and gibbet immediately
in front of his dungeon completely bewildered his brain ;
every stroke of the hammer sounding as if the iron fell
upon his heart, and brought with it a new death as often
as it was repeated. At length the workmen ceased, and
in the silence of the night, only broken by such loose watch
and ward as these undisciplined insurgents thought neces-
sary to maintain, the wretched prisoner had leisure to ponder
uninterruptedly — for sleep was out of the question — upon
the dismal prospect of thus ignominiously ending his days
on a public scaffold, in a foreign land. In such medita-
tions the night was wearing miserably away, and he was
expecting the dawning of the last sun that should ever
shine upon him, when a distant and confused noise fell
upon his ear, to which, at first, he paid little attention,
deeming it might be some disturbance among the lawless
bands into whose power he had fallen. Presently, how-
ever, it became louder and more distinct ; it drew nearer,
shouts were heard, and he caught the hoarse and hurried
cry of ' ' Treason ! treason ! to arms ! to arms ! " quickly
followed by the fierce clashing of swords, the yells of en-
raged combatants, and all the clamour and clangour of a
desperate conflict ; sometimes rolling away to a little dis-
tance, and again seeming to gather around the very doors

304 THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

of his prison. More than once he could recognise the
voice of the usurper, braced in this emergency to a loud
and animated pitch, encouraging his men to fight for the
Emperor Nero, to whom they had sworn allegiance, and
promising the most extravagant rewards if they proved
triumphant. These evidences of an obstinately fought
battle were prolonged, until a great shout seemed to declare
that one side or the other had achieved a victory, and the
sounds of fury and fighting gradually died away.

It was now broad daylight, when the suspense and anx-
iety of Aaron became so intolerable, that he cried out with
all his force, and beat violently against the door of his
dungeon, which was at length opened, and to his inexpres-
sible relief, he found himself surrounded by regular Roman
soldiers. Scattered arms and accoutrements covered the
ground; the bodies of the conquered rebels, who had
fought with the courage of despair, were thickly strewed
over the field of battle, and as Aaron passed along he re-
cognised that of the self-styled Nero, scored with wounds,
the ferocious expression of his eyes and features, which
not even death could tame, attesting the audacity of cha-
racter that had prompted him to the enterprise in which
he perished. The reprieved prisoner, half wild with joy
at witnessing this destruction of the banditti and their
leader, was carried before the Roman general, Calpurnius
Asprenas, who informed him, that having been appointed
Governor of Galatia and Pamphylia, he was sailing thither
with some galleys, and a detachment of soldiers for the
Eastern army, when they cast anchor off the Island of
Cythnos, and having learned the proceedings and preten-
sions of the supposititious Nero, he had resolved to crush
his enterprise by a coup de main. For this purpose he
landed his troops in the night, and unexpectedly attacking
the insurgents, had gained a complete, though by no means
an uncontested, victory. Politely expressing his satisfac-
tion at having been the means of rescuing Aaron from the
tragical doom with which he had been threatened, the
General then informed him that he was at liberty to quit
the island whenever he chose ; a permission of which, after
the most fervent expressions of gratitude, he lost no time

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. 305

in availing himself. On the very next morning he was
fortunate enough to procure a passage on board a merchant-
vessel bound for Joppa ; and as he sailed away from the
unlucky shore of Cythnos, and cast his eyes upon the lofty
gibbet that had been intended for his execution, at the foot
of which the wretch who had condemned him was now
lying lifeless, he could hardly persuade himself that the
whole adventure was not a fearful dream, and knew not
how to be sufficiently thankful to Heaven for having thus
suddenly snatched him from the jaws of death, and put
before him the immediate and delightful prospect of once
more embracing his wife and daughter, once more behold-
ing the pride and glory of the earth, the Holy City of
Jerusalem !

CHAPTER III.

AARON'S somewhat sluggish feelings were not easily aroused,
except through the direct medium of his senses, although,
when thus awakened, they were not deficient in vehemence,
especially where his religion or his native country was
concerned. Upon these subjects, indeed, he was, like
almost every other Jew, easily incited to enthusiasm. It
was this susceptibility which, having prompted him to join
a sortie of his fellow-countrymen as a volunteer musician,
had occasioned his being taken prisoner and sent to Rome,
and which now filled his bosom with mingled sensations
of delight and sorrow as he stepped ashore at Joppa, and
once more set his foot upon the sacred soil of Palestine.
So predominant was the 'former feeling when he jumped
upon the strand with a loud cry of " Hosanna ! praised
be the God of Israel ! " that he snatched up a handful of
the sand, kissed it, and pressed it to his heart in a devout
ecstasy ; but this momentary joy was succeeded by the
most mournful impressions as he advanced towards the
town, or rather towards the ruins that marked its former
site, — for since his last visit Joppa had been completely

306 THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

sacked and destroyed. Its local advantages, however, as
the nearest seaport to Jerusalem, soon attracting mercan-
tile and other settlers to the place, it was once more rising
from its ashes at the period of Aaron's arrival.

By his inquiries of the new inhabitants, he learned that
many of the towns and citadels of Judaea had been taken
by the Romans ; that Vespasian was gone up with a mighty
force to invest Jerusalem, and that the whole country of
Palestine was, according to the report of travellers, a
miserable scene of disorder, rapine, and warfare. Grieved
at this intelligence, Aaron began to apprehend that, al-
though he was within forty miles of the Holy City, it might
not be so easy to reach it, and to embrace his wife and
daughter, as he had at first flattered himself ; and he re-
solved, for his better protection, to retain his costume of a
travelling philosopher. From their known poverty, persons
of this stamp were generally allowed to pass unmolested ;
while the smattering of medical knowledge which many of
them possessed, and the skill in divination of which they
were all suspected by the ignorant, secured for them a por-
tion of respect which few other wayfarers could boast.
He departed from Joppa, therefore, without altering his
garb ; and having first visited the splendid tomb of the
Maccabees in the vicinity of the city, which had escaped
the devastations of war and faction, and where he sighed
over the vanity of human hopes, as he beheld the vacant
niches destined to receive the successors of that illustrious
family, which had already become extinct, he proceeded
with a heavy heart in the direction of Bethshemeth. Every
step as he advanced increased his dejection ; for the de-
serted fields, disfigured by a rank overgrowth of weeds
and brambles that threatened soon to re-convert the country
to a desert, — the ruined and abandoned villages, — and the
corrupting dead bodies left unburied by the road-side,
attested in all directions the frightful ravages of civil and
foreign war. Even where a population of any sort was to
be found, it only led him to regret the solitude he had left
behind ; bands of robbers, deserters, and outlaws overran
the country, visiting with rapine and murder those who
had escaped the previous miseries of war.

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. 307

Environed with such perils, it can hardly be supposed
that our traveller, in spite of his philosopher's garb, could
altogether escape annoyance. More than once he was
stopped and rigorously searched ; but his few remaining
pieces of gold were so effectually concealed that they
baffled detection, and he was dismissed upon his way,
sometimes with abuse, sometimes with blows, deeming
himself fortunate that no more serious violence was ever
inflicted upon him. A marked contrast was afforded,
when, in the midst of this lawlessness and anarchy, he
reached any of the Roman stations, in the vicinity of
which guards and sentinels being planted at stated dis-
tances, and a system of signals established, all was order
and security for the peaceful wayfarers ; though they scru-
pled not to inflict the last extremities of military law upon,
the armed insurgents, whom they considered and treated as
irreclaimable rebels. Aaron now knew too well the might
and indomitable obstinacy of the Romans not to be aware
that the Jews were committing themselves to an utterly
hopeless contest ; a conviction that gathered strength as
he had additional opportunities for observing the miserable
disunion and distractions of his own nation. And yet
when he gained the summit of an ascent, and in the bright
crystal atmosphere of an autumnal morning saw out-
stretched before him the Holy City with all its glories,
crowning a precipitous rocky eminence, belted round with
green hills, every spot of which was hallowed by a thou-
sand religious and patriotic associations, his heart leaped
in his bosom, and he became instantly transported with a
proud and pious enthusiasm. Uttering a loud cry of joy,
and clapping his hands together, he fell upon his knees,
exclaiming with an impassioned energy, <f Hosanna ! hail
to thee, Shelomith ! my peace, my happiness ! Hail to
thee, Salem ! Hail to thee, Zion, the dwelling-place of the
Lord ; the chosen mountain of Jehovah ; the Holy City,
the queen of the whole earth ! — I see the impregnable
walls and bulwarks ; above them soars the glorious Temple
with its white marble and golden plates, glittering in the
sun like a mountain of snow on which the stars have
descended; — yonder are the lofty towers and the stately
x 2

308 THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

palace of Herod, and the fortress of Antonia, and the
columns of the Maccabees ; — behold ! the sacred banner
of the Lord floats triumphantly above the gilded roof of
the Temple ; and lo ! from the midst of its unseen courts
a pillar of smoke rising from the altar of burnt offerings,
and climbing majestically up to heaven, gives me pleasant
assurance that even in this hour of siege and peril the
priests of the Lord do not neglect the daily offices of our
religion. Glory to Solyma ! Glory to the God of Israel
— Hallelu-jah!"

For some minutes his eye wandered over and indi-
vidualised all the prominent objects and buildings, resting
ultimately upon that quarter that contained the humble
dwelling within which he had left his beloved wife and
daughter, upon whom his thoughts fixed themselves with
a tenderness that increased as he once more contemplated
the houses among which they resided. He lost himself
in conjecturing which room of the dwelling they at that
moment occupied ; what were their immediate employ-
ments ; and as he again fancied himself at home, his
thoughts found a leisure moment for descending to the
cellar, and to the buried pot of shekels and maccabees.

Starting from this domestic and pecuniary reverie, his
eye fell upon the Mount of Olives and the encircling
heights of Jerusalem^ several of them bristling with a
fortified encampment, which he instantly discovered to be
Roman. At this dismal prospect the temporary exaltation
of his mind rapidly subsided, and he continued, in a
desponding tone, " Alas ! for the Holy City ! she is even
now a prisoner — the toils of the Roman are round about
her — she is in the lion's den — and unless she have the
miraculous deliverance of Daniel, she must fall a prey to
the universal spoiler. Oh, wretched Jerusalem ! " This
ejaculation was frequently repeated as he drew nearer, and
marked, with a heavy heart, the desolation that had com-
pletely altered the features of the whole surrounding
territory. What he had left a green and smiling paradise,
was now converted into a dismal desert ; the delicious
gardens, the shady groves, the picturesque pleasure-houses,
perched amid bowers and arbours, had all disappeared ;

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. 309

not a cottage, or tree, or even a single shrub, was left
standing ; all was ruin and destruction ; the beauty and
glory of the scenery being so utterly defaced, that he could
scarcely recognise the spots even of his most familiar
resort. To the sadness occasioned by this prospect was
now added a misgiving as to the possibility of his making
his way into the city ; for he saw that the walls were
closely invested upon every side, and could scarcely bear
to reflect upon the possible fate of his family, left without
his protection, either if the city should be taken by assault,
or if, by the prolongation of the siege, the horrors of
famine should be superadded to the other calamities of
war.

In the midst of these gloomy forebodings, he was chal-
lenged by the sentinels of one of the Roman outposts,
made prisoner, and carried before a centurion, who, upon
interrogating him, observed that he spoke with a foreign
accent, and expressing a suspicion that he was a disguised
Jew, and perhaps a spy, suggested the propriety of his
being examined by Josephus. " I heard at Joppa," said
Aaron, " that Josephus, the son of Matthias, had joined
the Romans ; and if it be him of whom you speak, I would
gladly have speech of him, for I knew him at Rome."

" Whose son he may be I know not," said the Centu-
rio'n ; " but I speak of Josephus the Jew, before whom we
have orders to carry all suspicious characters."

Aaron was accordingly conducted towards the camp as
a prisoner. On his reaching the tent, and being con-
ducted into the presence of his countryman, he found him
writing at a table, probably collecting materials for his
great work, the History of the Jews, which he sub-
sequently published at Rome. Dismissing the soldiers,
Josephus saluted Aaron, whom he immediately recognised,
and listened to the detail of his adventures since he left
Rome ; at the conclusion of which he justified his own
defection from the Jewish cause, by contending that God
himself had obviously abandoned it ; maintaining that the
writings of their own prophets foretold the destruction of
Jerusalem about the present time ; and inferring that
Heaven had left the Jews, and gone over to the Romans,
x 3

310 THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

from many circumstances, and more particularly from the
fact that the waters of Siloam, which had been latterly
dried up whenever the Jews could come at them,, flowed
so plentifully since the fountain had been in possession of
the Romans, as even to supply their horses and cattle,
besides their whole camp. Within the walls of the doomed
city, he stated the war of the factions among themselves
to be so inveterate,, and the sufferings of the whole popu-
lation so horrible, that the final surrender could not be
much longer delayed ; warning Aaron, that if he joined
himself to their numbers, he could only expect to perish
miserably, as multitudes had already done in the defence
of the place, or at its capture to be made a slave for life,
and see his family condemned to the same fate.

Admitting the force of these arguments, Aaron con-
sented, should he get admission into the city, and find its
plight as desperate as it had been represented, to seize the
first opportunity of escaping from it with his wife and
daughter; on the faith of which assurance, Josephus told
him that the Jews, according to the information of a de-
serter, meditated a sally on the coming night, adding, that
as they would doubtless be driven back as usual, Aaron
might join the fugitives in their retreat, and, under cover
of the night, pass through the gates with them.

Previously, however, to the execution of this project,
Josephus requested his friend would accompany him, and
communicate to Vespasian the particulars of Nero's death,
as well as the freaks and ultimate fate of the impostor of
Cythnos. They found the General and his son Titus in
a spacious but unadorned and meanly furnished tent, both
of them covered with dust and perspiration from a skirmish t
in which they had been personally engaged with a band of
Idumeans who had attacked one of the Roman convoys,
and just sitting down, with a single attendant, to a meal
that even a common soldier would hardly have deemed
luxurious. They listened with great interest to Aaron's
relation, at the conclusion of which the General said : " If
you deem yourself'unlucky to have fallen into the clutches
of two Neros, you are at least fortunate to have escaped
from both; nor have I less reason to be grateful to the

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. 311

blind goddess, for when I accompanied the late tyrant into
Greece, and fell asleep while he recited one of his poetical
compositions, every body gave me up for lost."

" And have not I, too, reason to be thankful for still
wearing a head?" asked Josephus, addressing himself to
the General, "when, even in the lifetime of the terrible
Nero, I predicted that you would one day become em-
peror,— a prophecy which I now repeat with greater con-
fidence than ever." *

' ' Tush ! no more of this ! " cried Vespasian, ce these
are dangerous and foolish vaticinations. I have not for-
gotten that I was once a horse-doctor, and I cannot believe
that I shall ever come to wear the purple."

" Nor can I, my father ! " cried Titus warmly, " if the
licentious Praetorian cohorts are to dispose of the empire,
and to sell it, as they have done, to Galba. But if the
highest virtue is to achieve the greatest dignity ; if the
purple should ever be bestowed upon pre-eminence in
valour, wisdom, and merit, who so likely to attain it as
Vespasian ? "

" To judge by this flattery, one would think I had
already won it. A truce to such discourse, my son, and
recollect that it is a poor compliment to the Roman people
to deem me worthy of becoming their emperor, simply be-
cause I have done my duty."

" Even in that you are ten thousand times more worthy
than any they have had since Augustus Caesar," said
Josephus. "Oh! how different from these lazy and
luxurious Praetorians, who presume to give masters to the
world, is the brave army now encamped around us ! And
oh ! what a contrast to the effeminate tyrants whom they

* Many others, led by the probability of the occurrence, had ventured a si-
milar prophecy. " The event," says the philosophical Tacitus, " made us all
very wise. After seeing Vespasian's elevation, we soon concluded it foretold
by heaven by various presages." Even the Jewish prophecies, that the chief
and deliverer of nations should arise in Judea, were applied to Vespasian. M.
Bossuet is indignant that Josephus the historian, a worshipper and priest of
the true God, should have sanctioned this perversion of the Scriptures " Blind,
blind indeed," he exclaims, " so to pive away the hop°s of Jacob and of Judah
to strangers, by seeking the son of Abraham and of David in Vespasian, and
ascribing to an idolatrous prince the title of him whose light was to convert the
Gentiles from idolatry." Though Vespasian might affect to speak slightingly
of divination, he was a strict believer in it, even consulting a Jewish oracle
upon Mount Carmel.

x 4

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

set up is offered by our General, who, with all the sim-
plicity of the republican times, shares the hardships of his
hardy legions, and mainly upholds that mighty empire,
which is thus shamelessly and unlawfully played for by a
set of debauched gamblers at Rome."

Josephus, who was diffuse of speech, and loved to hear
himself talk, would have continued in this strain, but that
Vespasian, reminding him these were no fit topics for
soldiers to discuss, arose from table, and quitted the tent,
to give orders to his army.

Aaron, on the night of die conversation we have re-
corded, betook himself to a tomb in the rocks, nearly oppo-
site to the Gate of Ephraim, whence the projected sally
was to be made ; where he threw aside his robe and staff^
and resumed his ordinary Jewish dress. Here he had not
long remained, when he heard his countrymen crossing the
narrow bridge over the Cedron, close to his hiding-place,
betraying their progress by their confused cries for order
and silence. He knew that the Romans were lying in
ambush at a little distance, wishing to decoy their enemies
as far as possible from the walls ; and his conscience sud-
denly upbraiding him that, as he was in possession of this
fact, it was treason towards his townsmen not to apprise
them of the trap into which they were about to fall, he
sallied forth, and informed the leaders of the party that
their intended attack had been betrayed by a deserter.
Instead of meeting the thanks he expected for this in-
formation, he was assailed with every opprobrious epithet,
and angry exclamations of " Down with him ! he is him-
self a spy, a deserter, and a Simonite .l Strike the villain
down I " This abuse was accompanied by several lances,
which luckily whizzed past him without injury ; but he
received so severe a blow from a stone, that he found some
difficulty in making his way back to the tomb, where he
remained till the party had all passed. A pause ensued,
but the tumultuous cries of the enraged Jews, and the
furious clang and clash of battle, soon told him that they
had fallen into the snare, in spite of which they still fought
with their usual desperation. Single fugitives, however,
presently began to hurry past him on their return, followed

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. 313

by disordered parties, calling to the guard to open the
gates, one of which bands he closely followed, and passing
with them through the gate, quickly found himself once
more within the walls of Jerusalem.

. His heart thrilled with exultation at having thus far
happily accomplished his object; and such was his habitual
reverence for the Holy City, that he could not refrain
from falling on his knees, thanking Heaven for his return,
and even kissing the very walls of the house beside which
he was kneeling. Fleeting, indeed, was this fervour and
self-gratulation ; for roving bands of the opposed factions,
scouring the streets and striking at every passenger they
met, obliged him to provide for his personal safety, and to
defer for the present all thought of proceeding to his own
house. When the morning dawned, and the streets be-
came more quiet, he ventured forth from beneath the
portico of Helena's palace, where he had taken shelter,
and learnt with grief and dismay that Josephus's state-
ment was correct, and that the war within the walls was
still more furious and implacable than that which reigned
without.

In order to obtain admission into the upper town, where
his residence was situated, he was obliged to cross the
bridge thrown over the ravine at the back of the Temple,
and to declare himself of the faction of John of Gischala :
when the gate was opened, his name and address were
taken down, and he was suffered to pass.

With a throbbing heart he approached his own dwelling,
laid his hand upon the sacred inscription of the door-post,
pronounced the usual prayer, and knocked at the door,
which, after a considerable delay, and some previous
scrutiny from a window above, was opened by a lame
servant, named Zachary, who had lived many years with
him as an assistant in his trade. " Eli ! " exclaimed the
old man, starting back in utter amazement, <c it is Aaron,
my long lost master ! Hosanna ! Glory be to the Lord !
Mariamne ! Mariamne ! come forth, come forth, for Heaven
has sent back to us your long lost father ! Oh, Aaron, my
master Aaron ! how happy am I to see you once more ! "

At these exclamations, the door of an inner apartment

314 THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

was hastily thrown open,, when the Jew's daughter, utter-
ing a wild scream of joy as she heheld him, rushed forward,
and sank speechless into his arms. This was a moment
of ineffable tenderness and ecstasy that none but a parent
can know, and the tears rolled down the father's cheeks
and trickled upon his beard, as he enfolded his only child
to his thrilling heart. Parental pride rendered his delight
still more exquisite when he found leisure from his caresses
to notice how much she had improved in personal appear-
ance during his absence. Her large soft eyes of hazel,
her redundant tresses of jetty black, her clear olive com-
plexion, enriched with a peachy bloom, her timid bashful air,
and her graceful form, combined, as Aaron fondly thought,
every charm that could adorn a Jewish maiden in the
vernal efflorescence of her beauty. He had already inquired
for his wife Rebecca without receiving any reply ; and as
he now noticed for the first time that Mariamne was in
mourning, he repeated the question with a misgiving soul.
The silence and the fast-flowing tears of the daughter,
together with the downcast looks and the deep sigh of
Zachary, revealing to him the whole truth, he struck his
hands together, exclaiming, " I see it all — I see it all!
My faithful Rebecca is dead, the wife of my bosom is no
more ! "

When the first agitation of this affecting meeting had
subsided, Zachary ventured to communicate to his master
the tragic mode of Rebecca's death. A flaming Zealot, one
of the faction of John of Gischala, becoming enamoured of
Mariamne, had pretended to pay his addresses to her ; but
the mother, having discovered that he was already married,
refused him admittance to the house when he next pre-
sented himself, and warmly upbraided him, from one of
the open windows, for his treacherous designs upon her
daughter. Stung to sudden rage by this exposure, the
villain drew an arrow and shot her to the heart, — an act
of atrocity that entailed a quick retribution, for he was him-
self killed on the following night, in a street encounter
with some of the Simonites. Zachary drew a frightful
picture of the state of the city, where there was no law,
and no power to punish crime, however outrageous and

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. 315

abominable ; so that to preserve Mariamne, whose youth
and beauty would have inevitably exposed her to the un-
bridled licentiousness of the Zealots and others, he had
given out that she was dead, and had concealed her in a
secret apartment at the back of the house, where she had
remained a prisoner for many weeks past. Such, he added,
was the prevailing effeminacy and luxury, even in the
midst of general sickness, approaching famine, and incessant
war, both within and without the city, that he had sold at
advanced prices all the perfumes in the warehouse (for
Aaron carried on the business of a druggist and perfumer),
and had buried the money. More than once had the
premises been ransacked by some of the marauding parties ;
but as they had discovered nothing worth carrying off, and
imagined a lame and infirm old man to be the sole occupant
of the house, they had not latterly molested him.

Bestowing the most fervent thanks upon Zachary for his
prudence and fidelity, which he assured him should be abun-
dantly rewarded, Aaron proceeded to make inquiry concern-
ing his relatives and kinsmen, many of whom, he learned,
had perished in the progress of the war, while some, having
joined themselves to the adverse faction, were no longer to
be encountered, except as enemies, and at the point of the
sword. Almost overwhelmed with such a mass of dismal
intelligence, the Jew retired to Marianne's apartment,
endeavouring, during the remainder of the day, to solace
himself in some degree with the society of his beloved
child. In the midst of so many causes of sorrow, he did
not fail, however, when the other inmates of his house had
withdrawn to rest, to proceed to the cellar and search for
his buried gold, which he carefully counted over, and
found, to his no small consolation, that not a single piece
was missing. Aaron, it must be confessed, was a lover of
money ; but, in extenuation of his indulging this propensity
at such a moment of public and domestic affliction, it must
be remembered, that he not only reckoned upon this trea-
sure for facilitating the escape which he already meditated,
but as a means of ransom, should he be taken by an enemy,
or of future support if he should be enabled to get clear
away.

316

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

On the following morning he sallied forth to visit some
of his surviving relatives, and obtain farther information
of the state of the city : on which errand he had scarcely
turned the corner of the street, when he heard him self called
by name, and looking round beheld a strange figure,, at
once foppish and pharisaical, odorous with perfumes, min-
cing and effeminate in his gait, his hair and beard fantastic-
ally curled and anointed, his face painted and rouged, and
his hand, which had been carefully blanched with cosmetics
and was richly decorated with rings, so placed beneath the
descending points of his glossy black beard, as to display
to the greatest advantage its own whiteness, and the bril-
liancy of its jewels. Notwithstanding this unmanly foppery
of appearance, the creature wore a sanctimonious downcast
look, uttering pious adjurations and scraps of prayer with
a soft, affected, lisping voice, while ever and anon he
applied a pouncet-box of myrrh and cassia to his nostrils,
so that Aaron could not for a moment suspect that he was
accosted by his kinsman Reuben, whom he had left, on his
last departure from Jerusalem, a plain, homely, industrious,
and swarthy brazier. No sooner had the latter made him-
self known, than Aaron, starting back in amazement, in-
quired the cause of this marvellous transformation ; and
was told he should be fully satisfied if he would accompany
his kinsman to his house, which was only in the next street.
Thither he accordingly betook himself, and observed with
increasing surprise that, although small, it was furnished
with the luxury worthy of a Sybarite. Some pomegranate
water cooled with snow was set before them, and the servants
having withdrawn, Reuben proceeded to unfold the mystery,
by declaring that he had joined the faction of the Zealots,
and had attained some eminence among them, earnestly
advising Aaron to unite himself to their party, and share
their good fortune. Being freed in this confidential col-
loquy from the necessity of any hypocritical observances,
Reuben now unblushingly avowed that nothing farther was
required to constitute a Zealot than a profession of implicit
faith in certain tenets and traditions, and an ostentation of
ceremonial holiness ; confessing that as the faction was
paramount, and utterly irresponsible to any power, they

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. 317

indulged themselves with perfect impunity in every de-
scription of pillage and bloodshed, and having the wealth
of the city at their command, were enabled to wallow in
whatever abomination was dictated by their unbridled
passions.

Horrified as he was at this discourse, the prudent Aaron,
reflecting upon the power and audacity of the Zealots, and
not forgetting the fate of his unhappy wife, concealed his
disgust, and even promised to take into consideration the
proposal that had been made to him for an alliance with
these miscreants. Nothing, however, could be farther
from his thoughts ; and a circumstance that occurred on
the same morning completed his abhorrence of the whole
faction, and his resolution to fly from Jerusalem with the
least possible delay. As he walked towards the upper
battlements, in company with Reuben, they proceeded for
some little distance behind a female, whose hand his kins-
man appeared to notice with a particular attention. Quick-
ening his pace as she turned into an unfrequented street,
Reuben overtook her, stabbed her to the heart with a dagger
which he snatched from beneath his garment, and as she
fell groaning to the ground, plucked from her finger a
sparkling ring, which he very composedly put upon his
own hand, and then returning leisurely to Aaron, offered
him his arm that they might continue their walk together.

" Eli Elohim ! " ejaculated the latter, utterly aghast ;
" What mean you by this unprovoked and horrid mur-
der?"

11 My good friend," lisped Reuben, applying the poun-
cet-box to his nose, Ci you may now see the advantage
of being a Zealot. Some of our factipn will not scruple to
stab a female for a plain gold ring, or even for the chance
of what they can find ; but I swear to , you, by the horns
of the altar, that I would not have poniarded this worthy
old lady had I not ascertained that her ring was of real
diamond. Behold ! saw you ever a prettier bauble ? It
is of the first water. Nay, look not thus piteous and
petrified. My victim, as you may perceive, has crawled
to a spot whence she can obtain a view of the Temple, in
order that she may turn upon it her dying eyes. These

318 THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

devotees require no other solace in death, and she ought,
therefore, to thank me for having stabbed her where her
last whim can be so easily indulged."

Fired with an irrepressible indignation at this monstrous
atrocity, and still more at the levity with which it was
treated, Aaron passionately inveighed against his kinsman
as a heartless and diabolical assassin, and, bursting away
from him, hurried back to his own house, in profound
consternation and disgust. " Mariamne, my child, my
child ! " he exclaimed, as he pressed her to his bosom,
fe we must fly from this doomed and polluted den of
wickedness, ten times deeper sunk in abomination than
those execrable cities that the Lord overwhelmed with
fire. He hath abandoned Jerusalem, and smitten its
inhabitants with a judicial madness. Their reason is
benighted, their hearts are hardened, they are given over
to their evil passions, and Zion has become an arena where
thousands of maniacs, like so many infuriated wild beasts,
only seek to tear one another to pieces. Let us fly, let us
fly, and seek a Zoar in the desert."

Fearful that Reuben the Zealot might wreak a speedy
and sweeping vengeance for the abusive epithets that had
been heaped upon him, Aaron was eager to seize the first
possible opportunity of quitting the city, — a project which
was by no means easy to be accomplished ; but every hazard
appearing preferable to a longer residence, he made imme-
diate preparations for his flight, even though he could not
decide upon the mode or time of attempting it. To secure
his daughter, as far as possible, against the insults to
which all females, especially the young and beautiful, were
exposed, both from Jews and Romans, he disguised her
in boy's clothes, and rolled up her hair beneath a wide-
flapped hat, such as was usually worn by young choristers,
intending that they should take their instruments with
them, and assume the character of wandering musicians.
He dug up his buried gold, concealing it about his person
in the most effectual manner he could devise, and provided
himself with a long rope, understanding that several of the
inhabitants had recently got away by letting themselves
down from the walls, under favour of the darkness.

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. 319

The night that followed the completion of these arrange-
ments heing, from its dense obscurity,, well adapted for
the execution of his enterprise, he determined no longer to
delay it. As he was afraid to make a confidant, even of
his trusty servant Zachary, he waited till he was asleep,
when he placed a letter upon his bed, informing him that,
in reward of his fidelity, he left him half the gold which,
during his absence, had been taken in exchange for the
perfumes, and, proceeding to his daughter's apartment,
helped to array her in her disguise ; after which he coiled
the rope around his arm, and passed stealthily forth with
Mariamne, each having a musical instrument slung over
the shoulder. Choosing the most unfrequented streets,
they hurried silently onward towards the southern wall,
all being hushed, and apparently buried in deep sleep in
the narrow lanes through which they passed, though a
confused sound of tumult and conflict, in some remote
quarter of the city, occasionally fell upon their ears. Few
passengers were abroad, and those whom they saw, being
apparently as anxious as themselves to escape observation,
they advanced, unmolested and unchallenged, to the bul-
warks in the immediate vicinity of the Potter's Gate. In
this part the walls were negligently guarded, their height
being deemed a sufficient defence : but Mariamne's quick
ear caught the sound of footsteps marching along the plat-
form, and they both crouched down, till the sentinels, for
such they were, had passed out of hearing, when they
ventured up to the parapet. After feeling about for some
little time — for nothing could be seen — Aaron discovered
one of the rings used for securing the machines and arba-
lists occasionally planted on the walls, to which he fastened
his rope, having previously knotted it, to facilitate their
descent. Though the height from the ground, at this
point, was very considerable, he assured Mariamne that it
was but trifling, and, as the darkness both favoured the
deception, and prevented her being giddy, she unhesi-
tatingly followed her father, and accomplished, with but
little difficulty or trepidation, a hazardous feat, which, in
the day-time, she would hardly have ventured to attempt.
" Hosanna ! praised be the Lord ! " whispered Aaron in

320 THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

his daughter's ear, as she reached the ground. " We are
in the valley of Hinnom, and have thus far escaped in
safety ; but the greater danger remains, for we have yet to
elude the Romans. Be silent, my child, nor let your
footsteps be heard, if you can help it. Leave me to reply,
should we be challenged ; for I know the Roman tongue,
and will desire to be conducted to our countryman
Josephus, who has promised me his protection. For-
tunate, however, will jit be, if we can escape these Pagan
sentinels altogether, some of whom have scrupled not to
kill such fugitives as ourselves, for the sake of plundering
them. Jehovah be our guide ! Give me your arm, my
child ; this way, this way."

CHAPTER IV.

ff ALAS ! my dearest Mariamne ! " continued Aaron, still
speaking in a whisper, " who would have ever thought
that I should steal thus privily out of Jerusalem (for I
will no longer term it the Holy City), and feel as happy
as if I had escaped from a lion's den, or even from the
horrors of Tophet ? Do not tremble, my child, for you
have two fathers to guard and watch over you: him,
upon whose arm you are leaning, and another, all powerful
to save, whose dwelling is in the heavens, and who can
lead your footsteps in safety, even through this pitchy
darkness, and the enemies that surround us on every side.
Yonder faint gleam of light must be the pond of Solomon,
and we should now have nearly reached the ruins of the
Royal Baths, whence there are two roads ; one winding
by the Pigeon-house, to Mount Aceldama; the other
leading behind the King's gardens, and the tomb of Absa-
lom, across the Valley of Jehoshaphat, to Mount Olivet.

The former, if we be not intercepted " Aaron broke

off suddenly; for an arrow whizzed past them, and the
hoarse voice of the Roman sentinel, who had launched this

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. 321

uncourteous messenger before he challenged them, was
now heard, demanding who passed. At this moment they
had reached the entrance of the ruins, into which Aaron
and his daughter silently crept, and laid themselves down
upon the ground, where they heard footsteps passing and
repassing close to them, and caught the sound of several
voices hailing and calling to one another. But, after a
white, these alarming noises died away, and the fugitives,
anxious not to lose the benefit of the darkness, again ven-
tured from their hiding-place, and, bearing a little to the
right, soon found the road leading to Mount Aceldama,
which Aaron decided on selecting, believing it to be less
strictly patroled by the enemy. Neither of the fugitives
now spoke a word, not even in a whisper, and both carried
their shoes in their hand, that their footfall might be
inaudible ; in which manner they advanced as rapidly as
the darkness would permit, frequently appalled by the
near sound of enemies, but without being intercepted, or a
second time challenged, until they had the supreme satis-
faction of finding that they had passed through the line of
Roman piquets, and had gained the rugged summit of
Mount Aceldama. (< Blessed be Jehovah ! " devoutly ex-
claimed Aaron. " Here, upon the summit of the Mount,
should be the little pleasure-house of my friend Jabesh the
potter, where we have often sat together, diverting ourselves
with music, and gazing upon the beautiful prospect before
us. What means this pale gleam of light? Surely it
cannot yet be the dawn of day. See ! it reveals to us the
pleasant pavilion I spoke of : but alas! the overhanging
trees that shaded and adorned it are all cut down, doubtless
to make military engines for the besieging army. You
are faint, my child ; your footsteps falter : let us enter
this once delightful, but now desolate, alcove, and rest
ourselves awhile."

They did so accordingly; and, upon turning their eyes
towards Jerusalem, discovered that the gleaming light they
had noticed proceeded from a fire in the lower city. The
distant sound of tumult which had reached their ears as
they quitted their home, had been occasioned by a fierce
conflict of the two factions in the neighbourhood of an

322 THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

ancient fortified building, called Hezekiah's House, into
which one of the parties was ultimately driven, when their
opponents, unable to dislodge them from that stronghold,
and maddened by the animosity that then brutalised the
population of Jerusalem, set fire to the structure. At
first, the progress of the flames, restrained by the solidity
of the building, was slow ; but soon bursting through the
impediment of the roof, they pierced the black sky with a
lofty pyramid of fire, that threw a fierce and baleful glare
upon the whole city, and the surrounding heights. Dis-
mal, and yet magnificent, was the sight ; to behold the
fair and stately Temple, whose stupendous proportions
gave it pre-eminence over every other object, illuminated
by the blaze, which painted, with a red and angry light,
Fort Antonia, Herod's Palace, the Maccabee Columns,
the Hippodrome of Agrippa, and all the public and private
buildings of the city, rising amphitheatrically above one
another as far as Mount Zion ; while a pale and ghastly
gleam, revealing the entrances of the Tombs in the rocky
Valley of Jehoshaphat, threw a wan, glimmering lustre
even upon the Roman camp upon the summit of Mount
Olivet. Upon this latter spot, as well as upon the oppo-
site Mount of Gihon, arms were seen flashing, soldiers
forming, and engines moving downward, as if the enemy
meant to take advantage of this moment of terror and
distraction for making an attack upon the walls. While
the entire city, with its temple, towers, battlements, and
pillars, together with the sepulchres, valleys, and camp-
crowned heights that encircled, and the sky that imme-
diately overhung it, were thus conspicuous in the flame-
coloured light, an enshrouding darkness closed around the
whole scene at a little distance, like a black wall ; impart-
ing to it'a still more unnatural and terrible appearance.

If, however, it could have been divested of its painful
associations,, there was so much frightful grandeur in the
spectacle, that Aaron would not have turned away from
its contemplation, had not Mariamne perceived that seve-
ral of the wretched creatures enclosed in the burning
house had ascended to the topmost parapet of a tower
that remained unconsumed, and were leaping down from

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. 323

that dizzy height, in the desperate hope of crushing some
of their assailants while they destroyed themselves. At
this appalling sight she groaned aloud, shut her eyes, and
seizing her father's arm, exclaimed with a faltering voice
and a palpitating heart, " Oh ! let us pursue our flight,
and descend into the opposite valley, where we may lose
sight of all these horrors ; for the sickness of the soul is
worse than the fatigue of the body, and I feel that I shall
faint if I am still to gaze on this appalling scene ! "

" Let us speed away, then, my child, nor cast a look
behind us. Lean upon me ; and when you can no longer
proceed, we will rest ourselves, under the best shelter we
can find, until the morning breaks."

Marianne's agitation and fatigue not allowing her to
continue her flight beyond the next valley into which they
descended, her father led her to a goatherd's empty cabin,
by the side of a little brook, where she might obtain rest
at all events, and perhaps a little repose, while he mounted
guard at the open entrance ; for the door had been carried
off. Exhausted by her long night march, she soon fell
asleep ; nor did she awake until the sun had long arisen
over the mountains beyond Herodium, and gilded with its
sloping beams the rivulet by the side of which she had
been slumbering. Her dreams had presented to her burn-
ing cities, infuriated combatants, and all the cries and
clamour of battle, so that she could hardly trust the evi-
dence of her senses when, upon awaking in that strange
place, she found herself in a green and silent valley, with
no living objects near her, except her father, a goatherd at
a little distance, and his straggling flock browsing around
him ; while not a sound disturbed the perfect stillness of
the scene, except the gurgling of the water, and. the oc-
casional bleating of a goat. ee Oh, my dear father ! " cried
Mariamne, looking up to heaven in a grateful ecstasy,
" how refreshing to the soul — how lovely — how de-
lightful is this peace and tranquillity of nature, after we
have so lately witnessed the mutual hatred and the frantic
fury of our fellow-creatures ! Dear to my heart as the
Holy City has hitherto been, and deeply as I reverence
Y 2

324 THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

the Temple and its hallowed precincts, methinks I could
henceforth be well content to pass my life in some such
calm and delicious valley as this."

" It is still a pleasant and a placid spot, my child, but
it has lost much of its beauty ; for when last I visited it,
the slopes were embellished with citrons and figs, and the
heights crowned with mulberry, olive, and palm trees, of
which nothing now remains but here and there a dis-
figuring stump. The vines, you see, are neglected and
run wild, and yonder goats are browsing upon them, as
if they were of no more value than the common herbage of
the plain."

By this time the goatherd had approached, when Aaron
pointed out to him the mischief his flock were doing ; but
the man urging that the vineyard had been abandoned
by its owner, as not worth cultivating in the present
disturbed state of the country, and that the Romans
would assuredly gather whatever grapes it might spon-
taneously produce, observed that there could be no harm
in fattening his goats with the leaves, and thus revenging
himself upon the Pagans, one of whose foraging parties
had already stolen a portion of his flock. His sons, he
said, were stationed on the heights above -to apprise him
by a signal should an enemy appear, in which event he
always drove his goats to some of the ravines and caves of
the surrounding rocks, every glen and mountain pass being
perfectly familiar to him, and thus contrived to save them.
Aaron, not knowing when he might obtain a supply, had
brought with him some provisions in a wallet, which,
with the addition of a horn of goat's milk furnished by
their companion, enabled the fugitives to recruit themselves
with a comfortable breakfast. The banks of the brook
were fringed with wild hyacinths, lilies, and tulips, which
the bounteous hand of Nature still scattered around, re-
gardless whether they were to be plucked by Jew or Pagan,
friend or foe ; and as Mariamne gazed upon their beauty,
inhaled their odour, and listened to the lulling sound of
the waters, and the cooing of the doves that still frequented
the valley, though their sheltering trees had disappeared,
her heart felt the soothing influence of the place, and she

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. 325

almost forgot that she was a houseless wanderer in a land
of violence and confusion.

From the information of the goatherd, they learned that
the country to the north and east was infested with roving
bands of wild Idumaeans and fanatical peasants, from the
distant provinces, and the borders of the Wilderness,, who
came up under pretext of succouring Jerusalem, but rather,
if he might judge by their predatory habits, in the hope
of participating in its plunder. To these were added
troops of border Arabs, incited by the prospect of pillaging
the Roman convoys, armed vagabonds from Ccelo-Syria,
banded vintagers, and oilpressers, thrown out of employ-
ment, and other lawless freebooters. This was disheart-
ening intelligence to Aaron, who, having a kinsman at
Jericho, had intended to betake himself thither ; and as he
reflected upon the dangers to which such a journey, short
as it was, might expose his daughter in spite of her dis-
guise, to say nothing of the risk incurred by his con-
cealed shekels and maccabees, he almost regretted that he
had not surrendered himself in the first instance to the
Roman sentinels, and thus obtained access to his friend
Josephus, who might have ensured him protection, whither-
soever he went.

While they were conversing with the goatherd, a whist-
ling sound was heard in the air, and an arrow passing
over their heads, fell on the opposite slope of the valley,
when the goatherd starting suddenly up exclaimed, " Eli !
there is the signal arrow ! It is from my son Malachi on
the height of Gilead. Some enemy approaches. Away !
away ! "

With these words he collected his flock, and drove
them hastily before him towards the rocky hills that shut
in the narrow valley on the south-east. Aaron followed
without delay, anxious to ensconce himself and his daughter
in whatever hiding-place was chosen for the flock ; and
Mariamne, recruited by sleep and the refreshment she had
'Haken, was fortunately enabled to keep up with her com-
panions in their rapid flight. Scarcely had they hurried
through an opening in the crags, when several horsemen
appeared on the crest of the opposite ascent ; and the shrill
Y 3

326

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

sound of a trumpet, shivering over the startled valley, was
sharply echoed from rock to rock, until it died away in
distant Heatings, and all was again silent.

Huddled up, together with the goats, in a natural ca-
vern, Aaron and his daughter awaited the return of the
goatherd, who had stolen out to reconnoitre, but presently
reappeared with the intelligence that the horsemen, having
summoned by trumpet some stragglers who were lingering
behind, had continued their route westward, and were al-
ready out of sight. " Had they discovered my flock, they
would presently have dashed down into the valley, and I
might chance to have been paid with an arrow or a lance,
for the kids of which they eased me. If these straggling
freebooters penetrate in this direction, where so little is
now to be found, you may judge how numerous they must
be in the fertile Toparchy of Jericho. However, they
have seldom roamed of late so far as the Valley of Vines,
and still farther east I believe the country to be quite
clear of them."

Trusting to this information, Aaron resolved to avoid
the high roads, to make a considerable detour to the east,
and, if possible, find his way to Abila, where the Roman
supplies and provisions, floated down the river Jordan
from Scythopolis, were generally unladen, and forwarded
under strong escorts to Jericho and Jerusalem. With one
of these convoys he might travel to the former city, which
being garrisoned by the Romans, would afford him a se-
cure asylum, where, in the society of his kinsman, himself
and his daughter might await the course of events, and
the tranquillisation of Palestine. They found no reason
to regret this determination as they travelled onward ; for
although the country became more stony and sterile, it
seemed to be free from banditti of any sort, and its few
inhabitants, mostly shepherds or vine-growers, had not de-
serted their cottages. Gathering around the travellers,
they eagerly demanded news about the siege of Jerusalem,
in which all seemed to be deeply interested, hospitably
affording shelter and a portion of their rustic fare in return
for the ballad of the brave Maccabee brothers, the triumph
of Gideon over the Midianites, the battle of David with

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. 327

Goliath the giant, and other national songs which Aaron
and his daughter sang to the accompaniment of their in-
struments. The former sometimes solicited two or three
gerahs in addition, which he deposited in his girdle, ob-
serving to Mariamrie that this trifling booty, confirming
the notion of their poverty, might perchance induce a
robber to forego any farther search. Plausible as this
pretext may appear, we cannot positively assert that it
constituted his sole motive ; for the smallest coin possessed
attraction in the eyes of Aaron, who was in the habit of
quoting a thrifty truism, equivalent to our English saying,
that " a penny saved is a penny got."

In this manner they pursued their way without molest-
ation or adventure, in the direction of Abila, till, on the
approach of the second evening, taking, by mistake, an
eastward path instead of the northern one, which they
ought to have followed, they found themselves bewildered
among dark and frowning rocks, whose angular projections,
sometimes impending over the narrow ravine, along which
they were painfully toiling, were gradually denuded of
vegetation, and at length in their naked blight and sterility
seemed to frown upon them menacingly, as if to bar their
progress, or to warn them that they were proceeding at
their peril. Every thing around had been burned and
scorched by an unrelenting sun, the light calcined dust
thrown up by their feet penetrated into their eyes and
nostrils, the hot, sickly air became intolerably oppressive,
and no object was to be seen, but bare rocks interspersed
with patches of sand, of which the surface was so level,
that they looked like pools of yellow water.

Not only was Mariamne exhausted with fatigue, but her
heart was saddened with the fearful dreariness of the scene,
and there was a melancholy misgiving in the expression of
her soft hazel eye, as she bent it upon her companion,
exclaiming, " Surely, surely, dearest father, we must have
mistaken our way ; for we have long lost all traces of a
footpath, and this dreary wilderness can never lead us, as
we were told, to the pleasant village of Ramah-Succoth,
where we were to pass the night."

" Indeed, my child, I fear we must have wandered from
Y 4

328 THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

the right track ; but I know not how to recover it ; these
rocky ravines, intersecting one another in all directions,
form a perfect maze, and prevent all possibility of retracing
our steps, so that we must even continue our course till we
emerge from the defiles ; when, if we have sufficient day-
light left, we may perchance obtain a view of some village
in the open country."

In this hope he pressed forward, urging Mariamne to
exert her strength to the utmost ; but the craggy wilds
becoming still more forlorn and desolate, presented their
jagged outlines and chaotic masses in what appeared to be
an interminable succession. Through their abrupt open-
ings the setting sun cast, every now and then, a fierce
suffocating ray, lighting up the opposite acclivities and a
portion of the glowing ravine with an almost crimson flash,
that imparted an additional obscurity to the sombre shades
on either side. Still our travellers held on in their course,
wearily indeed, but without any increase of despondence :
for Aaron cheered his daughter with the remark, that even
if they were obliged to pass the night in some of the ca-
vernous openings which they had observed, they would
have nothing to fear, either from robbers or wild animals ;
since the deep, total silence of that dreary desert led him
to infer that it was alike unvisited by man or beast, or
even by the tenants of the air. As the sun rapidly de-
clined, crowning with a diadem of fire the summit of the
loftier ridges, our travellers sought shelter in a narrow
chasm, arched over at top, intending to compose themselves
to sleep, as best they might, and at all events to remain
there till the morning. The intense darkness that instantly
succeeded the disappearance of the sun, and the profound
silence that reigned around them, were favourable to re-
pose ; but Mariamne's anxious fears lest they might become
inextricably entangled in that dismal solitude, and so perish
for want of sustenance, kept her awake, and she conversed
eagerly with her father to dissipate the oppressive weight
of the silent, forlorn wilderness that surrounded her.

While they were thus discoursing, the moon rose above
the rock in which they were ensconced, throwing such
bright lights and deep shades upon the fantastic crags

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. 329

before them, that their confused masses seemed to be
alternately compounded of ivory and ebony, or rather to
resemble the lighted billows of the ocean. Aaron, still
cherishing a notion that they would emerge from this
mountain pass upon the neighbourhood of Ramah-Succoth,
asked his daughter whether she felt sufficiently strength-
ened by the rest she had taken to resume their journey ;
and, upon her answering in the affirmative, they quitted
the chasm, and advanced in the same direction as before,
Mariamne shrinking from the sound of her own voice, as
if it were irreverent to break the deep solemn silence of
night and nature. Soon, however, she noticed with satis-
faction that they began to descend, and that the rocks
gradually diminished in height, whence she concluded that
they would shortly come upon the open country. This
they did even sooner than they expected, suddenly finding
themselves upon a rugged slope that shelved down to a
vast mass of waters, dimly gleaming with a sickly yellow
lustre, and shut into their dungeon by wild haggard pre-
cipices on every side. " Shield and protect us, O Jehovah
Tsebaioth ! " ejaculated Aaron, stopping short, and arrest-
ing his daughter by the arm, " 1 know where we are now,
and we must, indeed, have wandered far to the eastward ;
for lo ! my child, the waters before us are the dread Lake
Asphaltitis, the spot upon which once stood the five ac-
cursed cities of the Canaanites that were destroyed with
fire : and see ! — behold — mark you not yonder pale co-
lumn, sending its dreary shadow down to the water's edge?
It is the Pillar of Salt, into which Lot's wife was turned
for her disobedience ! " *

Although this frightful lake was within a trifling dis-
tance of Jerusalem, it was rarely visited by any of the
Israelites, not only on account of its desolate and revolting
character, but from the fear- fraught associations connected
with it. It was considered sinister and ominous, almost
profane, to intrude wantonly upon a spot which Heaven
had smitten with such a terrible vengeance, and, cursing it
with irremediable sterility, had condemned it to everlasting

* Speaking of this miraculous column, Josephus says, "I have seen it my-
self, and it remains to this day." — Jewish Antiq. book i.

330 THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

execration and solitude. Participating fully in this general
feeling, the hearts of the travellers thrilled with fear and
awe as they gazed upon the Dead Sea, wearing a ghastly
hue in the wan light of the moon, and lying, as it were,
in a sepulchre of rocks, with the silence and loneliness of
death all round about it. Not a breath of air was felt ;
not a wave rippled ; the whole mass looked like molten
copper ; not a blade of grass grew upon the shore, or upon
the rocks ; no object moved — no sound was heard. Some-
thing terrific hung over the spot, as if Nature, in this scene
of desolation, had suffered a violent and dreadful death,
and presented to the spectator her ghastly corpse. Even
the moonlight assumed a sickly tone ; the rocks took hideous
and appalling shapes; and the spectral column of salt, with
all its dread reminiscences, completed the portentous and
withering solemnity of the scene. For a while Aaron and
his daughter remained immoveable, grasping one another,
and gazing before them with a mingled reverence and fear
which, almost suspending their breath, became still more
intense when dark masses of bituminous matter, somewhat
resembling human bodies, slowly upheaved themselves from
the waters, and exploded with a noise resembling dismal
groans. So startling and mysterious was the aspect of
these apparitions, so appalling the unearthly sound they
emitted, that Mariamne, in an agitated whisper, entreated
her father to return immediately amid the rocks. To this
proposal he willingly acceded, observing that they might
pass the night in some such sheltered nook as that to which
they had previously betaken themselves ; and that, as he
now knew the bearings of the country, he had no doubt
they would be easily enabled to find Ramah-Succoth in the
morning.

A recess, tolerably well adapted to their purpose, was
soon discovered ; and the wayworn travellers, having first
committed themselves to the protection of Heaven, at
length sank to sleep. Mariamne's slumbers, however, were
disturbed by a hideous dream, suggested doubtless by the
scene she had so lately witnessed. She imagined herself
to be standing once more upon the borders of the Dead
Sea, at the bottom of which, so transparent were the waters,

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. 331

she could plainly distinguish the five submerged cities,
their towers, temples, palaces, and dwelling-houses, all
scathed and blackened by the avenging fire that fell from
Heaven. From the ruined portals of these buildings,
spectres and skeletons, wearing the garb of kings, priests,
nobles, and others, came forth in ghastly procession, and,
floating upward to the surface of the waters, groaned with
sepulchral voices a prayer to Heaven, imploring a remission
of the pangs they were still suffering. To Mariamne's
fancy this scene did not present itself at moonlight, but in
the face of day. The sun, however, appeared to throw
over the lake and its encircling rocks a dull baleful glare
as of an eclipse ; all nature seemed to stand aghast and
horror-stricken ; the groans of the phantom figures poured
into her ear, and fell upon her heart with a harrowing
loudness; and, as she turned her eyes aside towards the
margin of the sea, the pillar of salt heaving and rocking,
as if slowly animated with life, gradually assumed a dis-
torted human form, upstretched its petitioning arms to the
sky, and uttered a shriek of anguish that seemed to pierce,
as if with a sharp instrument, the very nerve of the
sleeper's ear.

The cry of terror with which Mariamne instantly re-
sponded to this fearful creation of her dream, awoke both
herself and her father, to whom she related the cause of
her agitation, still trembling vehemently, and clinging to
him for protection. Some time elapsed before she could
again compose herself ; but she at length sank into sleep,
and her slumbers remained unbroken till the morning.

CHAPTER V.

WITH the first beams of the rising sun our bewildered
travellers were afoot, and pressing eagerly forward in a
north-easterly direction ; for as they had exhausted their
little store of provisions, and began to suffer both from

332 THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

hunger and thirst, they feared they might still perish, if
they could not speedily extricate themselves from the
parched and sterile labyrinth that environed them. With
an anxiety proportioned to the urgency of their need, did
they search in every direction for a pool or spring ; but it
was not until the afternoon that they discovered a little
natural cistern at the foot of a rock, formed by the drip-
ping water that oozed from a cleft in its side, and which
the shade of the crag had kept so cool, that as the weary
and heated wayfarers knelt beside the brink, and quaffed
the refreshing element, it seemed to them the most accept-
able and delicious beverage they had ever tasted. Recreated
in body, and encouraged in mind, they now pursued their
way with fresh ardour ; nor was it long before they noticed
a manifest improvement in the character of the scenery.
The diminishing rocks exhibited here and there patches of
vegetation, shrubs and plants again began to clothe the
ground ; they crossed a narrow ravine dotted with wild
fig-trees, and at length, through an opening in the defile,
saw that they were immediately about to emerge upon an
open and fertile country, which Aaron instantly recognised
as part of the Toparchy of Jericho, though he feared that
they must have wandered far away from the village of
Ramah-Succoth.

While they were congratulating each other on the pro-
spect of a speedy deliverance, and indulging the hope that
they should soon join their kinsman at Jericho, where they
might at length enjoy security under the protection of the
Romans, they heard the lowing of a camel, and, on gazing
in the direction of the sound, beheld a straggling band of
wild-looking armed men, accompanied by camels, asses,
and cattle, winding down an opposite declivity that led to
the gorge along which they themselves were passing. Well
knowing the lawless character and predatory habits of such
rovers, Aaron would have willingly avoided them ; but he
saw that he had been noticed by the leaders of the party,
and not wishing to betray any appearance of mistrust, he
desired Mariamne to prepare her instrument, and accom-
pany him in a tune that might support their character of
wandering musicians, when he advanced with a great show,

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. 333

though little feeling of confidence, towards the foot of the
declivity. Had he not thought too much of the perils
incurred by his disguised daughter and concealed gold, to
be in any frame of mind for admiring the picturesque, he
could hardly have failed to be struck with the appearance
of the band as they descended the rocky heights down a
precipitous slope, along which they were obliged to pick
their way with great caution ; the bright hues of their
garments, as they flaunted and fluttered in the breeze,
making the naked crags look as gay as if they had been
embroidered with wild flowers. Although, upon a nearer
approach, the greater part of this motley crew were found
to be in rags, their tatters, which were of the gaudiest
colours, in combination with their spears, bows and arrows,
their fragments of rude armour, the marked swarthy phy-
siognomies of the dusty, sunburnt assemblage, and the,
train of asses, cattle, and ragged camels that followed them,
laden with women and plunder, imparted to the whole a
singularly pictorial appearance, puzzling at first their pre-
sent spectators to determine whether they were a troop of
banditti, or a tribe of wandering Idumaeans seeking some
new allotment.

Gathering around the musicians, the foremost of the
party began eagerly to question them ; but neither Aaron
nor his daughter could comprehend a syllable of the bar-
barous tongue addressed to them. They continued their
strain, therefore, without intermission ; and as music, the
universal language, needs net, fortunately, the aid of an
interpreter to communicate its unrestricted delights, the
marauders, — for such in sooth they were, — helping some of
their females to dismount from the asses and camels, struck
up an animated but somewhat disorderly dance, adapted to
the merry strain that the minstrels were playing. The
timid Mariamne, frightened by the gaunt figures of the
half-clothed men, whose fierce looks not even their present
pastime could subdue, and recoiling from the over-bold
gestures of the female dancers, plied her instrument with
downcast eyes and a nervous vehemence ; while her father
assumed a cheerful aspect, and made a show of enjoying
the sport, trusting, at all events, to be suffered to pass

334 THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

unmolested when they had completed their dance, and not
without hope that some of these reckless freebooters, who
generally scattered their plunder as freely as they seized
it, might toss him a prize of some sort in return for his
tune.

In the midst of this scene the captain or commander,
who brought up the rear of the straggling party, emerged
from the rocks, mounted on a handsome camel, which was
decked with showy housings, a necklace of beads, and a
profusion of coloured bells at its ears. He was an elderly
man, whose grave phlegmatic look and adust complexion
set off to advantage the fairer features of the wife or
mistress that sat behind him — a young bright-eyed girl,
of an arch arid vivacious expression, evidently anxious to
jump from her seat and join the dancers, though she feared
to take such a liberty without the permission of her lord.
Her head, however, and indeed her whole body, invo-
luntarily swayed to and fro in accordance with the music,
jingling, as it moved, the little coins profusely appended
to her dark locks, and the various trinkets with which her
figure was bedizened. Her male companion gazed upon
the dancers with a calm and even good-tempered look, but
in perfect silence, until they paused to take breath, when
he addressed Aaron in broken Hebrew, complimenting him
on his performance, and expressing his conviction that
such expert musicians would never be allowed to pass un-
rewarded, but must have reaped a good harvest, especially
as the crop they gathered was independent of wind, weather,
and war. Thrown off his guard by the sordid hope of
obtaining a handsome recompence, Aaron incautiously re-
plied that this conjecture was not altogether unfounded; as
few were so ungenerous as not to bestow upon him a demi-
shekel of silver, while he had earned upon more than one
occasion a golden maccabee.

ff I guessed as much," said the bandit with a tranquil
smile : ft for myself, I possess neither shekels nor mac-
cabees; but, as I am a general collector of coins, I would
fain ease you of some of these Hebrew curiosities. What
ho ! you panting fellows, that have been dancing till ,you
are half melted, toss me up this vagabond's girdle, and

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. 335

search his person, that I may see what his music has been
worth in these unmusical times."

The parties to whom this order was addressed set about
their commission with such alacrity, that the Hebrew's
girdle was twitched off in a moment, and thrown up to
their commander on the camel, who proceeded to scrutinise
its contents, without altering a muscle of his face, or tes-
tifying the smallest emotion of any sort. Nor had its
owner betrayed any very vehement disinclination to part
with it, knowing its contents to be of trifling value, and
hoping that his quiet surrender of this small booty might
save him from further search ; an expectation, however,
in which he proved to be grievously mistaken.

" Examine his garments closely," said the chieftain to
his men ; " for I find here neither the silver shekels nor
the golden maccabees of which our good friend made men-
tion, and he looks too much like an honest man to be ca-
pable of deceiving me."

Our musician having now fallen into the hands of riflers
who, where plunder was concerned, were not very liable to
be baffled in the exercise of their functions, soon saw that
his cherished treasure, in spite of the art with which he
had concealed it, stood not the smallest chance of eluding
detection. This being like a wound in the very apple of
his eye, he was rendered so desperate by the anticipated
loss of his hoard, that he resisted, struggled, and finally
knocked down one of the men who had just placed his
hand upon the prize. If he trusted to the hitherto placid
demeanour of the chieftain for his overlooking this act of
audacity, he quickly rued his error; for the apparently
phlegmatic old man, suddenly exploding into fire and fury,
like a flash of gunpowder, leaped from his camel with in-
flamed features, plucked a dagger from his belt, and struck
instantly at Aaron, though with so hasty an aim that it
only wounded him in the shoulder. Again had he raised
his weapon to inflict a more deadly blow, when Mariamne,
frightened out of her timidity, uttered a loud shriek, clung
to his uplifted arnij and, having all her energies braced to
an unusual vigour by the imminent peril of her father,
held the assailant fast, in spite of his utmost efforts to

336

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

disengage himself. At the instant that, exhausted by her
struggles, she was on the point of relaxing her convulsive
grasp, a horn was sounded from one of the heights that
overhung the gorge, making the air shudder with a blast
so loud and dread, that even the supine camels and inert
asses started, and pointed their ears in the direction of the
sound. Thither also did the infuriated bandit and his
crew instinctively turn their eyes, when they beheld upon
the crest of an adjacent eminence a bearded figure, of com-
manding height, brandishing a long wand in his right
hand, which he pointed at them, while he called out to
them at the same time, in a voice of thunder, to forbear
from violence and bloodshed.

" It is the Prophet Hadad!" said the chieftain, with
an abashed and awe-stricken look : ef if I disobey him, the
spell of an evil genius will be upon us and upon our cattle,
and we shall share no plunder for many moons. Forward,
soldiers ! — march ! This vagabond at my foot has tasted
my dagger pretty nearly to its hilt ; and, should he live to
encounter me again, I will settle finally with him for
daring to resist me. On ! on ! and quickly ; for the Pro-
phet is pointing his rod at the sky, and may bring down
the thunder if we still remain in his sight/' So saying,
he impatiently motioned his band forward, and urging his
camel at the same time, the whole party hurried into the
rocky defile, and presently disappeared.

From the violence of the blow he had received, Aaron
had fallen to the ground, where he remained unable to
rise ; while Mariamne, whose struggles had been succeeded
by a temporary dereliction of her powers, lay panting by
his side, half insensible, and utterly unable to assist him.
Staunching his wound as well as he could with the skirt
of his garment, the Hebrew propped himself up against a
crag, and gazing mournfully around, almost gave himself
up for lost when he considered the forlorn nature of his
situation. So suddenly had he been brought into his pre-
sent perilous predicament, that the change almost confused
his senses. But a brief space had elapsed since himself
and his daughter had been pacing along a voiceless soli-
tude : merry strains of music, boisterous laughter, and the

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. 337

jocund dance had succeeded ; all had evanished away like
vision, and he was now left alone in the silent craggy
wilderness, bleeding from a wound which might perhaps
prove mortal, his daughter extended powerless upon the
ground, and little chance of their obtaining help or succour.
Even if he could raise his voice to implore it, there was no
one to hear him ; Mariamne was not in a condition to seek
for aid ; they might both perish long before any passenger
would present himself in those unfrequented wastes. With
a feeble voice he pronounced the name of his child, but she
spake not — moved not ; ,and the disconsolate parent, fear-
ing that she might have received some fatal wound or in-
jury in the scuffle with the bandit, groaned aloud, shut his
eyes, and abandoned himself for some minutes to all the
bitterness of despair.

From this stupor of grief and exhaustion he was
aroused by hearing the sound of footsteps, when a ray of
hope electrified his heart ; and, gazing eagerly upward, he
saw approaching him the same bearded figure whose me-
nacing gestures and stentorian voice had scared the bandit
from his fell purpose, even when his dagger had been up-
lifted to strike. In the present crisis of the Hebrew's
fate, any human visitant would have been hailed as a sort
of guardian angel : a feeling which the stranger who now
stood before him was calculated to awaken, notwithstand-
ing the strangeness of his attire. Although his propor-
tions were not so large as they had first shown when he
crowned the projecting crest of the opposite eminence, his
figure was of superior height. In spite of his beard, it
was manifest that he was in the very prime and vigour of
manhood ; his comely features expressed intelligence and
benignity, saddened, however, by an evident touch of me-
lancholy. On his head he wore the tall conical cap of
black lambs'- wool, which the Persians, asserting it to have
been introduced among them by the first Cyrus, retain
unaltered to the present day : a large ram's-horn was sus-
pended from his neck ; flowing robes invested his limbs ;
in his hand he carried a long wand, painted over with
mysterious figures and devices.

" Hosanna ! you are welcome, stranger," murmured

33S THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

Aaron, — " even as was the voice from Heaven to Hagar
and Ishmael when they were perishing in the desert. Help,
oh help me ! or I shall bleed to death ! and, for the love
of Heaven ! afford some quick succour to my daughter,
who lies fainting beside me."

<f Your daughter ! your son, you would say, if you
mean this poor youth extended upon the ground/' replied
the stranger, speaking the Hebrew tongue with the fluency
of a native. l( Your apprehensions are disturbed by pain
or terror. See, the boy is already reviving, he seems to be
unhurt. Peace be with you ! be of good cheer, my friend-,
and let me examine your wound, which may not be so
dangerous as you fear." With these words he proceeded
to remove Aaron's garment, not without some wincing and
repugnance ©n the part of the latter, who no sooner saw
succour at hand, than, beginning once more to tremble for
the gold which he had concealed under his arm, he made
the pain of his wound a pretext for uncovering it himself.
i: The villain's weapon has passed through your shoulder
in a sloping direction," said the stranger, " so that you
will have little to apprehend if we can staunch the bleed-
ing, which I hope to effect without difficulty ; for I am
neither unpractised nor unskilled in the treatment of
wounds." Detaching his own girdle, he wound it tightly
round Aaron's shoulder in the form of a bandage, which
completely answered its purpose, and had scarcely been
accomplished, when Mariamne reviving, and gazing up
with a bewildered looked exclaimed,

ec Oh, my dear father ! where am I ? methought I saw
you wounded : was it a dream ? Oh, no, no, no ! for your
garments are stained with blood ; Heaven shield and pro-
tect you from farther harm ! Alas ! I am sick and faint,
and every thing swims before mine eyes."

She would have relapsed into insensibility, but that the
stranger, drawing a cordial from the folds of his robe,
poured some of it down her throat ; and as her weakness
proceeded from inanition, not less than from agitation, its
restorative effects were almost immediate, enabling her
quickly to recover her speech, and to express renewed and
eager alarm for her father's safety.

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. 339

" Dismiss your fears, my good youth/' said the stran-
ger ; " your parent will do well ; his wound bleeds no
more, and with the aid of this cordial, which has proved
so beneficial to yourself, I doubt not that he will be able to
walk to my hermitage in the rocks, which is not far dis-
tant, and where, though I can offer but rude accommoda-
tion, I can promise you rest, sustenance, and safety, till
you are enabled to pursue your journey."

So far was the stranger from having overrated the effects
of his restorative, that Aaron, shortly after having swal-
lowed a portion of it, declared himself strong enough to
proceed, provided he could have the assistance of his com-
panion's arm. This was readily tendered, his daughter
supported him on the other side, and thus they slowly pro-
ceeded ; the wonnded man talking at intervals with his
conductor, whose figure and demeanour, not less than the
character of Prophet assigned to him by the bandit, and
the instant mysterious influence he had exercised over so
fierce a desperado, filled him with an undefined reverence
and wonder. Though Mariamne had not yet sufficiently
recovered her self-possession to mingle in the conversation,
her thoughts were not less actively employed than those of
her parentj upon their recent adventure, and the singular
appearance and deportment of their deliverer. Much
sooner than they had expected they came to the extremity
of the defile, where it opened upon, and commanded an
extensive view of, the level country, the surpassing beauty
of which not even the devastations of war had been able
to disfigure. On the right of them they could distinguish
the gleaming waters of the Jordan, its course revealed by
the verdure that enlivened, and the palms and cedars that
shaded its banks : before them at a distance were seen the
white walls and lofty towers of Jericho ; and the trees not
having been cut down for warlike machines, as in the
neighbourhood of Jerusalem, the whole intermediate space,
though much of it had been suffered to ran wild, presented
the appearance of a rich continuous garden. So fertile
was the soil of this happy plain, that the palms and other
trees yielded fruit of a superior size and flavour ; the ge-
nuine balsam, so rare elsewhere, was here found in abun-
z 2

34>0 THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

dance ; nard, frankincense, myrrh, the most precious drugs,
and the finest flowers sprang spontaneously from the soil ;
many of the plants yielded vegetable honey, while that
which was supplied by the bees was more copious and
.exquisite than in any other district of Judaea. Springs
and fountains were abundant, and the water drawn from
them before sunrise had always been celebrated for its
salutiferous coolness. As our travellers skirted the rock, a
refreshing breeze wafted towards them such pleasant though
faint music of birds and bees, together with such balsamic
odours, that even the wounded Aaron, and the previously
exhausted Mariamne, feeling the invigorating influence of
the air, walked forward with diminished difficulty.
1 • " We have not far to go — and here are some of my
household come to welcome you," said the stranger, as
two large dogs ran bounding and barking towards him.
<c These are my friends, true, honest, cordial friends, whose
services, neither springing from the hope of reward nor
the fear of punishment, constitute the sole disinterested
attachment that is to be found in this hollow and deceitful
world. Their fidelity, you will perhaps tell me, is but a
blind instinct ; and that, whatever be their merits, they are
but irrational brutes. So much the better. What is our
boasted reason but an ignis fatuus that betrays us into
quagmires and pitfalls ? when, if we had grovelled onward
in the dark, there was at least a chance of our stumbling
upon the right path ? It seems to have been given to us
for its abuse rather than its use : and the former is so
much more mischievous than the latter is beneficial ; the
best things, when perverted, become so much the worst,
that what was perhaps intended for a blessing becomes our
direst curse. Reason ! it is the very bane of human en-
joyment. When are we happy ? When it is drowned in
wine or madness; happier still when it is quenched in
sleep ; happiest of all when it is extinguished in death."
The speaker uttered a deep sigh ; but Aaron made no an-
swer to his lugubrious effusion, being more anxious to
obtain rest, sustenance, and farther succour for himself and
his child, than to enter upon such speculations. " Oh !
my companions and playfellows by day," resumed the

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. 341

stranger, addressing and fondling the dogs as they leaped
joyfully around him, <e my watchmen and guards by night,
ever ready to lay down your lives in my defence, and un-
alterable by all the mutabilities of fortune, I am alike
secured against your adulation, should I again taste pro-
sperity, and relieved from all fear of your treachery and
desertion, even were my adversity become ten times more
sharp and desolate than it is at present. Of what human
being, selecting the rarest and worthiest of his race, could
I justly say as much ? Oh ! who would give his heart
to perfidious woman ? Oh ! who would form a friendship
with selfish and faithless man, when he might bestow his
affections upon creatures so much superior as these honest,
intelligent, and incorruptible dogs ? You will excuse me,
travellers, if my discourse appear little complimentary to
yourselves, and even to our common nature ; but I should
have used still harsher terms had 1 spoken of my fellow-
creatures as I have found them. Doubt not, however, my
good offices, because I show little reverence, though more
than they deserve, for my own species. I would treat my
brethren — I feel humiliated in calling them such — rather
according to my conviction of what they ought to be, than
to my experience of what they are ; and the very shame of
sharing their heartless vices, will, I hope, ever preserve me
from committing them."

The look of the speaker was in accordance with the
sentiment he uttered, for it bore a somewhat haughty and
bitter expression, which he retained for some minutes as he
went forwards in silence, apparently communing with sad
and indignant thoughts, until they reached the foot of a
rugged lofty crag, when he turned to his companions, ex-
claiming —

" Now, my friends, you must put forth your remaining
strength ; the worst part of our task remains to be ac-
complished ; for my hermitage, or rather my eagle's nest,
is of difficult access, and we must continue to climb until
we reach it. Lean upon me, for I know where to get the
securest footing ; and mine, moreover, is a strength that is
not soon exhausted. Follow in our steps, good youth, but
z 3

342 THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

beware that you slip not, for a fall here might incapacitate
you from ever rising."

Thus supported, and occasionally stopping to take breath,
Aaron, though not without efforts that occasioned his
wound to bleed afresh, at length gained the summit, fol-
lowed by Mariamne, when, upon turning an angle of the
rock, they beheld, facing towards the east, a natural grotto,
or rather a succession of arched openings in the rock, some
of which penetrated so deeply that their extremities were
lost in darkness. To the no small surprise of the travellers,
they observed in front of these recesses a lawn, bordered
with plantations, sloping down to a terrace on the edge of
a precipice that overhung the plain, of which it commanded
a magnificent view, including the windings of the river
Jordan amid groves and thickets, the mountains beyond it,
and the rocks among which it was lost on its approach to
the Dead Sea. Upon the lawn, as well as upon the crags
above the grotto, were scattered goats, several of which
ran bleating up to their master, and appeared to be upon
a not less familiar and friendly footing with him than his
dogs ; while doves, thickly perched above and within the
arches, imparted, by their cooing sounds of welcome, a
pleasant character of peace and home to the recesses of
the rock.

" Here is my abode," said the stranger, ushering them
into the largest cavern ; " it possesses few of the comforts
and none of the luxuries of life, unless I may include, as
the greatest of all luxuries, safety and independence, which
my poverty secures to me. I have disarmed as well as I
could the cupidity, violence, and evil passions of my fellow-
creatures, by offering to them no temptation. To be rich
is to be at open war with mankind, and to be the slave of
fear. Your beggar alone is independent ; he may live
in peace, and feel himself to be the master of the
world — for he who wants nothing possesses every thing.
Diogenes was greater than Alexander, for he wanted no
new world to conquer. Look at the wild Arab ; is he
not more free, more virtuous, more happy, than the de-
graded victim of what is falsely termed civilisation ? "

Thus speaking, he passed on into the darkness of the

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. 343

grotto, whither Aaron and Mariamne followed, groping
their way with some hesitation, until they reached an
interior and larger cavern, lighted by a fissure that opened
to the surface of the rock. Around this vault rude seats
had been scooped, the centre being thrown by nature into
the semblance of a table, which was presently covered with
an inviting collection of fruits and honey, to which was
added water that had never seen the sun, pure as crystal,
and of an exquisite coolness. Our half-famished way-
farers needed no second invitation to partake of this wel-
come repast ; at the conclusion of which their host again
examined Aaron's wounded shoulder, dressed it afresh, and
applied to it a balsam which produced an almost imme-
diate effect in allaying the pain.

" I told you that I was no inexpert practitioner in the
healing art," said the stranger ; " I am the JEsculapius of
the whole surrounding district, and as such I prescribe
that you should swallow a composing syrup of my own
prescription, and immediately retire to rest, which the
pain of your wound will not then, I trust, prevent you
from obtaining ; nor will your son, if I may judge from
his jaded looks, be sorry to enjoy once more the great
restorative of nature. Fatigue must minister to your sleep,
not the luxuries of your dormitory ; it will be humble and
rude enough, but it is the best I have to offer."

With these words he conducted them to an interior cell,
small and dark, but perfectly dry, and thickly strewn with
mingled wool and leaves, when, having poured out a mo-
dicum of syrup into a shell, and handed it to his guests,
he pronounced the Hebrew benediction, " Hosanna ! peace
be with you ! " and withdrew.

In spite of their fatigue, the Hebrews whispered to-
gether for some time on the nature of their adventure, and
the probable character of their host, until Mariamne became
overpowered by sleep. Notwithstanding the assurances
he had received to the contrary, the pain of her father's
wound kept him awake for a tedious space ; but he at
length sank to repose, and his slumbers, influenced by the
opiate he had taken, were deep and heavy. Awakened at
an early hour of the following morning by a loud noise,
z 4

344 THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

they both started up, when, to their no small surprise,
they heheld the stranger removing a barricade of boards,
with which he had apparently fastened them into their cell.

" I make no apology for having thus imprisoned you,"
he said in a sharp and altered tone of voice, " since I did
it to preserve you from your own evil passions. There is
such a zest in ingratitude, the temptation of injuring a
benefactor is so irresistible, that I knew not whether you
could withstand it. Had ye been wild beasts, I could
have trusted you ; but ye are human beings, and must obey
the ferocious impulses of your nature. Come forth ; eat,
drink, depart from me in safety, and though I have, at
least for the present, prevented .you from harming your
preserver, you have the consolation of knowing that I can-
not hinder you from hating me. And, sooth to say, per-
haps you ought to do so ; for have I not prolonged for you
the misery of life ? "

Nothing could exceed the astonishment of the Hebrews
at this singular address, especially as they noticed, upon
coming into the light, that the speaker's countenance,
having lost much of its previous expression, had become
clouded with a stern suspicious air. Mariamne was
abashed and silent; but Aaron indignantly repelled the
imputations levelled against them, declaring that they were
incapable of returning evil for good, that they felt and
should ever cherish a proper sense of the inappreciable
service bestowed upon them, but that, since they had
become objects of jealousy and suspicion, they would
instantly withdraw, however unfitted he felt himself for
travelling, rather than occasion a moment's uneasiness to
their benefactor.

' ( Unfit for travelling ! " said the stranger, his splenetic
mood relaxing no less suddenly than it had been engendered,
as he fixed his eye upon Aaron's arm, which hung helpless
by his side, <l I forgot to inquire concerning your wound."

fe It pains me severely ; I cannot move my arm in any
direction ; I am even weaker than I was yesterday ; and,
notwithstanding my loss of blood, I fear that I shall have
to struggle with an angry fever."

" Indeed, I fear so too," exclaimed the stranger/ after

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. 345

having felt his pulse ; " I like not these symptoms/' he
continued in a milder tone, while his countenance softened
into a compassionate expression ; " you are in no plight to
travel, and you must not yet quit your asylum. Future
ingratitude on your part cannot excuse the want of present
charity on mine. You may not deserve my good offices :
be it so ; they are due to myself, though they may not be
merited by you."

Nettled as he was by this sarcastic kindness, Aaron,
feeling how much he depended upon his host, made no
reply, but suffered himself to be conducted to the larger
grotto, where they breakfasted upon herbs, fruits, and
goat's milk ; after which, the stranger applied to his
wounded guest such remedies as his case seemed to require,
told him that he was obliged to go down into the plain to
adjust a dispute between two hostile tribes, desired him to
consider himself his inmate until he should be perfectly
recovered ; and descending the lawn in front of the Her-
mitage, let himself down into the plain by means of a rope,
fastened to the edge of the precipice.

CHAPTER VI.

WELL might the stranger say that he liked not the
symptoms of Aaron's fever, for it quickly assumed a
malignant form ; and when, by the skill and attentions of
his host, and the affectionate sedulity of his daughter,
who was indefatigable in nursing him, he appeared suf-
ficiently recovered to prosecute his journey, two successive
relapses again laying him prostrate on the bed of sickness,
compelled him to remain an inmate of the Hermitage.
During this protracted residence, although our Hebrews
became necessarily more intimate with their host, neither
of them could make any progress in fathoming his real
character j which, indeed, appeared to present a compound
of inconsistencies. Moody and splenetic when the bitter.

346 THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

ness of his spirit predominated, he would pour forth the
most cynical invectives upon the whole human race ; and
if Aaron's amended health seemed to allow his safe de-
parture, he would bid him begone, not always without
some rude taunt and sarcasm, anticipating his ingratitude,
and defying his treachery. Yet, when he marked the pale
attenuated features of the convalescent, as he prepared to
obey this stern mandate, and noticed the anxiety and alarm
of Mariamne, lest her parent's strength should prove
unequal to the fatigues of travel, he would suddenly
relent, apologise for his harsh expressions, and entreat
them to continue his guests. Even in his more gentle
moods, however, he could not always refrain from sneering
at the ordinary motives of human action.

" You are blessed, indeed," he exclaimed to Aaron, ce in
possessing such a son as Micah (the name assumed by the
disguised Mariamne). How fair and sweet a youth he is !
and so expert as a musician, that when he enraptures the
echoes around my cell with his voice and instrument, I
can almost fancy him to be a second youthful David,
playing to amuse the melancholy Saul. What grace, too,
in all his movements ! how winning his soft looks and
bland demeanour ! how exemplary his filial devotion !
Once more, I say you are blessed in such a son, or rather
blessed in your poverty, which has prevented the develop-
ment of his inherent vices. It has been said that the
weeping of an heir is laughter under a mask. Your son
knows that he shall never be an heir ; that your death will
leave him poor, friendless, desolate; hence his deep in-
terest in your recovery, which is but selfishness, under the
mask of filial piety. Rich or poor, this is all that parents
can expect from their children. Alas for human nature !
when even its seeming virtues, like cankered fruit, how-
ever fair and specious to the eye, contain nothing within
them but rottenness and corruption."

Aaron, deeming it hopeless to refute the uncharitable
conclusions of so determined a misanthrope, but at the
same time anxious to sound him, observed that from his
allusion to a living satirist, and from his perfect command

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. 34?

of the Latin language, he concluded that his host had had
the honour to be a Roman.

" The honour ! " cried the stranger, with a look of
ineffable scorn ; " rather say the disgrace, the ignominy,
the infamy ! What are they, these degenerate Romans,
who, in their detestable lust of universal domination, call
themselves the masters of the world, but the slaves of the
world's refuse, carrying their rapacity and blood-stained
tyranny to the uttermost bounds of the earth, only that
they may grovel at home, in chains and fetters, beneath
the foot of some mad, mean, miscreant Csesar, whom they
worship more abjectly the more he tramples upon them,
and spills their blood ; and who, in return, justly despises
and hates the cringing reptiles, the more loudly they hail
him as a god ? Base, execrable people ! Scaling the
temple of Fame, only that they may throw themselves
down from its summit ; the greater the height they have
attained, the deeper and the more irrecoverable is their
fall. They are at once the ministers and the victims of
Heaven's vengeance, inflicting misery and degradation
upon others, and entailing it a hundred fold upon them-
selves. A Roman ! the name, or at least the character, is
extinct. It expired with Brutus, Cassius, and Cato."

" My son then was right," said Aaron, inquiringly,
te when he maintained that you must be a Hebrew by
birth ; since it is impossible to discern in your pronun-
ciation even so slight a provincialism as that which occa-
sioned the slaughter of the ancient Ephraimites."

" I am a man ! " cried the stranger indignantly — " let
that suffice you — for it is disgrace sufficient. What ! do
not your own cheeks burn with shame when ye avow
yourselves Hebrews? God has abandoned the people
whom he chose, and has sunk them below the level of the
fiercest and filthiest brutes; nay, almost to the deepest
abyss of human nature itself. For their high priests they
have selected the basest of the rabble; for their rulers,
monsters and madmen ; for their Deity, their own lusts
and frantic passions. Verily, they are fit rivals of the
Romans ; and Heaven inflicts a just and double judgment,

348 THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

when it makes these two execrable belligerents the de-
stroyers of each other. Oh what a blessing to the world,
could they accomplish a mutual extermination ! Are you
offended at this denouncement of your nation ? — You
deserve it. Why would you insidiously attempt to worm
my secret from my bosom ? Can you not receive my
favours, and betray me, without knowing who or what I
am ? And will not your perfidy and ingratitude be the
more pleasant for being blind and gratuitous ? "

Offensive as was the nature of these wayward and
spleenful ebullitions, Aaron, attributing them to a morbid
state of mind, arising probably from disappointment, would
not irritate his host by expostulation or rejoinder ; and
cautioned Mariamne to observe a similar forbearance.
<f Unless I am much mistaken," he said, fe this man's
misanthropy, although it may seem to have received the
sanction of his judgment and experience, has not yet made
a convert of his heart. We saw no traces of it when he
interfered to save our lives ; nor is it visible when my
sickness or your distress make any appeal to his feelings :
yet at times, appearing to think himself the dupe of his
own benevolence, he treats us with contumely and sus-
picion ; and every night does he still secure us in our cell,
as if we meditated a nocturnal attack upon the life of our
benefactor. My returning strength will, I trust, soon
enable me to relieve him from these injurious misgivings ;
and, in the mean time, we must submit to his strange
humours, for we owe him much."

" Much, my dear father ! we owe him every thing.
Is he not the preserver of your precious life ? Heartily
do I concur with you in the belief that our host is by no
means a confirmed and irreclaimable misanthrope ; for he
who can suffer his dogs and goats to lay their paws upon
his bosom and to lick his cheek, while the doves perch
upon his head and shoulders, must surely be found to love
his fellow-creatures, however he may be alienated from
them by some temporary disgust."

Mariamne was in the right; for notwithstanding the
indignant apostrophes which the stranger occasionally
levelled against his inmates, and the suspicious precautions

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

349

to which he still subjected them, his heart, even in spite
of himself, gradually relented ; and although his moods
continued to be capricious, every day, almost every hour,
increased the complacency of his feelings, especially to-
wards the supposed Micah, whose youth, gentleness, grace,
and filial devotion, awakened in him a deep and tender
interest.

In vain did he endeavour to steel himself against this
new sympathy, by depreciating the real motives of the
party who had excited it. His better convictions refuted
these ungenerous insinuations, and Micah's virtues only
won upon him the more forcibly from the recoiling sense
of his own injustice. He had seen him risk his life to
save his father's; he had witnessed the duteous and
affectionate zeal with which he watched over the life he
had preserved, when it became again endangered by sick-
ness ; he had marked the mild, diffident, timid character
of the youth who had evinced such boldness in defending
his parent ; and he whispered to himself, " This cannot
be hypocrisy — this cannot be imposture."

As Micah supplied a link in the broken chain of his
feelings, that again connected him, however slightly, with
mankind, his bosom vibrated with emotions to which it
had long been a stranger ; and the cynic, though he still
retained an unabated scorn and dislike of his species in
general, involuntarily imbibed such a warm attachment
for his young guest, that he could not contemplate the
prospect of his departure, and of a return to the solitude
of his sequestered hermitage, without deep heaviness of
heart.

" Call me not stranger," he said one morning to his
guests as they sat with him on the lawn; "we are no
longer strangers to one another. Call me Hadad, but not
the Prophet Hadad, as I am usually termed ; for although
cogent reasons, which may perhaps extenuate the pre-
sumption, have induced me to acknowledge this appel-
lation, when bestowed upon me by the wild rovers or
barbarian tribes that hover around my hermitage, Heaven
forbid that I should profanely arrogate it from Hebrews,
whose faith it is my pride to profess, and who well know

350 THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

that since the days of Malachi the voice of genuine pro-
phecy has been dumb. Woe to Jerusalem, that she has
not heeded its denunciations ! I have placed this seat
upon the eastward extremity of my lawn, because I would
not even look in the direction of the doomed City ; be-
cause I would forget its inhabitants, their crimes, and the
withering vengeance that is speeding to overwhelm them ;
because, in contemplating the beauties of nature, my heart
expands with pleasantness ; and in the society of hills,
rocks, and valleys, of groves, arid waters, and the glorious
sky, I hold communion with Heaven, and feel not the
want of human fellowship."

He was silent, and appeared for some time to be lost in
a profound reverie, which his auditors attempted not to
interrupt ; for when the splenetic fit was on him he was
touchy and froward, and prone to misconstrue whatever
was addressed to him, at least by Aaron, though he would
listen with apparent pleasure to every thing that the sup-
posed Micah uttered, and never perverted it into cause of
offence. Quitting their seat, the Hebrews accompanied
their host to the terrace, whence he was preparing to let
himself down into the plain, when he found something
attached to the farther extremity of the rope. ee A con-
tribution from some of my tributaries," he exclaimed, as
he drew up a basket laden with fruits, vegetables, and
honey : ' ' they have observed that I have guests, and have
considerately enlarged their offerings, which I should hold
to be generous and kind, did I not know their motives for
propitiating my favour. Ha ! what is this ? a piece of
gold, and Roman money, too ! Fools ! fools ! how often
have I forbidden this ! What ! do they take me for a
robber, or would they have me tempt the robbers to my
cell ? "

Again he paused for some time in silent meditation,
when, turning to his companions, he resumed, (C How
sweet it is to contemplate the undeviating and inex-
haustible bounty of the universal mother — Earth ! how
she clothes herself with every variety of beauty and splen-
dour to delight our eyes ; how she perfumes herself with
rich odours to give us pleasure ; how she spreads before

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. 351

us with her thousand hands a luxurious hanquet of corn,
oil, and wine, and milk and honey, and luscious fruits,
that recreate the eye not less than the palate ; how each
succeeding generation, like a new-born infant, is nursed
and fondled, and supplied with sustenance from her ma-
ternal and ever-teeming bosom ! If this be pleasant to
behold, how heart- withering is it to reflect that all these
beneficent provisions have been marred, frustrated, de-
stroyed, by one contaminating product, the curse of which
has been sufficient to neutralise, nay, to annihilate all her
blessings ! "

" What poison can nature have produced," asked Aaron,
ef so deadly and so all-pervading as your words would in-
timate ? "

" Gold !" shouted Hadad, extending the Roman coin
towards his companion ; t{ this is the serpent, the devil,
whose temptations have poisoned the moral paradise, and
rendered the second fall of man ten thousand times more
deep and dreadful than the first ! This is the firebrand
which, inflaming our evil passions, until it makes a hell
within our bosom, setsx man against man, and nation
against nation, in endless and remorseless war, drowning
the flowers of earth in the blood of her children. This is
the universal venom whose touch can corrupt honour,
patriotism, chastity, and convert every virtue into its
opposite vice. Robbery, violence, murder, parricide, sacri-
lege, war, — what are they but the daily crimes that gold
commands its slaves to perpetrate ? This fiend, or rather
legion of fiends, has degraded earth into a Pandemonium,
and this devil have we made our master-deity. In the
days of Jeroboam, only ten of the tribes would bend the
knee before the golden calf; but in these times of abomi-
nation, Jew, Gentile, ah", even to the uttermost limits of
the earth, bow down to the same omnipotent idol. Gold !"
continued the speaker, glancing at the coin with a look of
scorn and aversion, " and with the impress of Nero upon
its surface ! Eli ! was it not sufficiently hateful and re-
volting without this Gorgon head ? Nero stamped upon
gold ! It is the epitome of all vice, wretchedness, oppres-
sion, and degradation ! Away ! thou hideous symbol of

352 THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

moral and political tyranny ! Away ! thou double curse !
Away, ye twin devils !"

With these words he hurled the money indignantly
from his hand, seized the rope, let himself down over the
precipice, and, striding hastily along the plain, was pre-
sently lost in a thicket of olive-trees.

" Never yet have I seen him in such a chafing mood,"
said Aaron to his daughter ; ef surely this must have been
a temporary madness, or he would not have thrown away
precious gold, and pronounced it to be poison. It was a
Roman solidus ; I followed it with mine eyes, and I
marked where it fell, by the stump of yonder mulberry
tree. My wounded arm will not allow me to descend and
search for it, but you are young and active ; the descent is
nothing compared with the precipitous walls of Jerusalem,
whence you let yourself down so cleverly ; and your quick
eyes would soon enable you to recover the money, which,
in sooth, it were a pity should be thus lost."

Mariamne objected that it would be impossible to find
it amid the thick underwood, adding, that they had pro-
mised their host never to quit the hermitage during his
absence; and then, immediately turning the subject, she
exclaimed, with sparkling eyes, and an unusual animation,
" Said I not, dearest father, that Hadad, spite of the
mystery with which he would surround himself, is a
Hebrew ? Did you not hear him avow his participation
in our holy faith ? He may justly "denounce our nation,
fallen and degraded as it is, but he did not deny his
connection with it; and though there be a foreign air
about his beautiful and majestic countenance, it bears the
traces of our national lineaments ; and I would pledge my
life that he has some affinity with the children of Abra-
ham. He is our countryman ; Hadad is one of the
chosen people ; and what Jew would not be proud of such
a compatriot ? "

" Little does it boot us to know whether he be such or
not," replied Aaron, surprised at the enthusiasm of his
usually reserved and placid daughter: "had he been a
Pagan, he would not have been the less entitled to our
gratitude ; and that is all we can bestow upon him."

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. 353

In this assertion the parent was unconsciously in error;
for Mariamne already felt towards their guest, although
as yet she scarcely knew the nature of her sensations,
something more than gratitude. Young, inexperienced,
timid, and retaining little other recollection of Jerusalem,
where she had latterly been a close prisoner, than as an
arena of incessant strife, bloodshed, and outrage, the tran-
quil sequestration and security, together with the pastoral
character of the hermitage, the beautiful view it com-
manded, the dogs, the goats, the doves, and the garden,
to all of which she had already become attached, appealed
to a heart yearning for calmness and seclusion, and
appeared to present a combination of every thing that ren-
dered life desirable ; especially when she considered the
wide-spread and desolating warfare that raged around this
little ark of peace. Gentle and retiring as she was, Mari-
amne was susceptible ; and her attachment to the place
involuntarily extended itself tojits proprietor. Through all
the occasional austerity and repulsiveness of his sentiments
and demeanour, she thought she could discern traces of a
better nature ; while his softened deportment towards her-
self prompted her first to conciliate, and then to reciprocate
the regard that she had so manifestly excited. But, like
the rest of her nation, she was warmly attached to her
religion ; she knew that a broad impassable line separated
the Jews from the Pagans, and she would have silenced
the whisperings of her bosom the moment they revealed
the secret of her yet undeveloped affection, had she known
that Hadad was an alien to the true faith. Hence, her
undisguised delight when he had avowed himself a follower
of the Hebrew creed. It seemed to sanction her nascent
partiality; and she had already, with the promptitude of
latent love, reflected that, although Hadad made an open
profession of poverty, he never wanted the necessaries of
life ; while he enjoyed, in the inexplicable respect and
homage shown to him, both by the natives and by the
wandering .tribes of barbarians, an enviable security, to
which the great and the rich were utter strangers. Lux-
uries beyond these he could not indeed boast, but with
superfluities she could well dispense; and what maiden,

A A

354- THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

in the dawning of a first attachment, ever desiderated any
felicity more supreme, any wealth more soul, sufficing, than
that of love in a rural solitude ? At all events, it was a
thousand times better, so at least thought Mariamne, to
find a safe home in such an asylum as the Hermitage,
than to wander about a disturbed province in the assumed
character of a musician, depending ultimately upon the
uncertain protection of the Romans, and the precarious
friendship of a kinsman at Jericho, with whom they had
had little intercourse for many years.

During the residence of the Hebrews on the rock, they
had observed that Hadad exercised a paramount influence
over wild and lawless rovers, Arabs, Idumaeans, and others,
who rarely held themselves amenable to any human author-
ity ; while they had more than once seen a Roman centu-
rion in deep consultation with him : but as he affected
great mystery upon such occasions, it was impossible to
guess the nature of their visits. These people always
brought offerings with them : sometimes a live kid or
goat; more generally, however, fruit, vegetables, milk,
and honey ; always exhibiting a marked reverence in their
deportment, as if they were holding converse with a
superior being. Generally, Hadad went down to them in
the plain; but, now and then, those who came to consult
him were allowed to climb up the terrace, by means of the
rope, and to meet him on the lawn.

Such was the case one day with a party of warriors,
•who, by the quality of their arms, and the barbaric show-
iness of their trappings, seemed to be chieftains of some
neighbouring tribes, and, by their gesticulations, to be
appealing to Hadad to decide a difference between them.
The Hebrews had been instructed to keep themselves aloof
when visitants appeared. Aaron, accordingly, had betaken
himself to the back of the rock overlooking the ravine by
•which they had first ascended ; but Mariamne, prompted
either by a feminine curiosity, or, more probably, by a
desire to gaze upon the object of her secret attachment,
concealed herself behind one of the crags on the lawn,
•whence she could obtain a peep of the assemblage, though
not near enough to catch their discourse — which, indeed,

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. 355

•would have been unintelligible to her, could she have
heard it. While thus occupied, she observed a slight
motion among the bushes on one side of the lawn, which
she at first thought to proceed from some browsing goat ;
but, as she gazed more attentively upon the spot, she dis-
cerned a human being crawling stealthily forward, so as to
approach Hadad's back, By a momentary glimpse of his
face, he appeared to be an old, sunburnt, furrowed man,
but with a fell, malignant expression, ' that • instantly
prompted her to distrust his designs ; a misgiving which
was converted into certainty when, in his next movement,
she caught the gleaming of a poniard, and saw him fix
his eyes upon Hadad with a grin of rancour and revenge.
Discarding every other consideration, in the thought of
Hadad's instant danger, she rushed down the lawn, to
apprise him of his peril; and reached the spot where he
stood, just as the assassin leaped from the bush, like a
tiger springing upon its prey. In the shock of their
encountering bodies Mariamne was dashed violently to the
ground, receiving a slight wound in the throat from the
brandished weapon; while the more vigorous assailant,
though baffled in his first onset, again prepared to dart
with unabated ferocity upon the object of his malice. But
Hadad, not less rapid than himself, and by this time fully
aware of his purpose, caught his uplifted hand, wrenched
the dagger from his grasp, and, snatching up the writhing
wretch in his herculean arms, while he exclaimed, " Vil-
lain, villain ! this shall be your last attempt ! " ran with
him to the highest part of the rock, and hurled him over
the precipice.

So rapidly had all this occurred, that Hadad scarcely
knew by whom the murderous aim of his assailant had
been detected and frustrated ; but when, on his return to
the lawn, he saw the still prostrate Mariamne endeavouring
to raise herself from the ground, while he perceived blood
trickling down her garments, he passionately ejaculated,
" Ha ! my brave though gentle Micah ! is it to thee,
dear youth, that I am indebted for my safety ? Heaven
grant that the miscreant have not seriously harmed thee !
A A 2

356 THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

But there is blood upon thy tunic ; I must examine thy
wound, and give thee instant succour." So saying, he
caught up the unresisting sufferer,, ran with her to the
grotto, laid her down in the shade of the entrance, and
hastily plucked the clothes from her neck, in order to
inspect the wound. The caul in which Mariamne had
confined her hair having fallen off in the rude encounter
with the assassin, her dark tresses now flowed down upon
her shoulders in disordered luxuriance ; while, as Hadad
gazed upon her fair and partially uncovered bosom, heav-
ing in agitation, he started back in amazement, ejaculating
— " Eli ! what means this disguise ? It is a lovely
maiden, and not a youth ! "

At this moment the bewildered Mariamne recovered her
recollection; and had no sooner perceived her situation,
than, with downcast eyes and deep blushes, she again
huddled the tunic over her shoulder, murmuring that
she was better, and had received no other injury than a
slight scratch in the throat. As she spoke her father
entered, when Hadad briefly imparted to him the recent
occurrence, revealed the discovery he had accidentally
made, and demanded an explanation. This was readily
furnished by the Hebrew, who disclosed his daughter's
real name, and apologised for the innocent deception they
had practised upon him, adding, that they would relieve
him from any embarrassment it might occasion, by taking
their departure on the following morning.

" Thoughtless and unfeeling that I am ! " cried Hadad,
" to be listening to these trivial matters, when I should be
succouring our poor Micah — I mean, your dear Mari-
amne, whose wound, though it be but a scratch, must not
be neglected." Hastening to procure some lint, and a
bandage, he applied them to her throat, during which
process the blushing patient remained silent; her bosom
thrilling with undefined sensations, as she noticed the
tenderness with which he treated her, and observed that
his hands trembled from the very apprehension of giving
her pain. As soon as this office was performed, he left
her, in order to dismiss the wild warriors who remained
upon the lawn, forgetting, for a while, their mutual differ-

TIIK INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. 357

ences, in amazement at the strange scene of which they
had been the spectators.

Pursuant to his promise, Aaron prepared, early on the
following morning, to quit the hermitage ; a measure,
however, to which Hadad would not by any means yield
his assent, observing, that Mariamne, after so much agita-
tion, could hardly be in a fit state for travelling; and
adding, that as some of the armed followers of his yester-
day's visitants were still hovering about the vicinity, it
might not be safe to venture forth until the road had been
closely reconnoitred. To effect this object Aaron went
down into the plain, promising not to advance far from
the rock ; and, while he was thus occupied, Hadad betook
himself to his patient, not only to examine her wound,
but to request information respecting her first discovery of
the assassin, with the particulars of which he was but
imperfectly acquainted. In the candour of artless inno-
cence, she made an unreserved confession of all that she
had done and felt upon the occasion.

" But what prompted you," inquired Hadad, " to watch
my proceedings, when I had requested you to keep aloof ? "

" Indeed I know not," replied the confused girl. " I
feel that it was wrong, and I fear you will be offended;
but latterly I have thought of you all day, dreamt of you
by night, and never felt happy unless I could keep you in
my sight, for which purpose only, and not from an idle
curiosity to gaze upon your visitants, I concealed myself
behind the crag, where I saw the assassin crawling for-
ward to attack you."

" And how came you to know that I was the object of
his enmity, when any of my companions might have been
his intended victim ? "

ec To this possibility I never for a moment adverted ;
I thought of, cared for, nobody but you."

" Kind, generous girl ! And did you not consider
your own danger in throwing yourself between me and
so fierce a desperado ? "

(( I had no time for consideration ; but, if I had, I
could not have commanded my feelings, which, methinksj
A A 3

358 THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

would prompt me gladly to risk my own life a thousand
times over in the defence of yours."

te Dearest Mariamne ! have you ever weighed the nature
of these feelings? Be not offended — for I am deeply
interested in the question — if I ask you whether they may
not proceed from love ? "

" I thought they sprang from gratitude, because you
were my father's preserver," faltered Mariamne, blushing
more deeply than ever; " but, if it be as you say, indeed,
indeed, I was not aware of it, and I hope you will pardon
me. You know we are to quit the hermitage this morn-
ing : I beseech you to grant me your forgiveness before I
depart ; you will soon forget me when I am gone."

" Never, never!" cried Hadad, transported, by the touch-
ing simplicity of this declaration, out of all his austerity —
' ' Never can I forget you, or need you ever quit me, if you
can receive such an anchorite as myself for your husband,
and give up the strife and danger of a warring world, for
the pleasures of love and peace in this humble but delight-
ful seclusion. Say, dearest Mariamne, can you make
this sacrifice ? "

With the Winning ingenuousness of perfect innocence,
the agitated girl declared, in broken accents, that, so far
from considering it a sacrifice, it would make her supremely
happy to quit a world of which she always lived in terror,
and devote the remainder of her days to Hadad and the
hermitage.

" Thus, then, do I seal the contract of our affiance,"
cried the impassioned anchorite, impressing a kiss upon her
lips ; " nor will your father, as I trust, refuse to sanction
our betrothal, when he shall have heard my history."

Sudden as it was, Hadad's feelings had not been altogether
surprised into this engagement. During the night he had
reflected much upon the singular union of gentleness and
courage in the character of Mariamne. Timid and diffi-
dent as was her ordinary demeanour, he had twice seen her
risk her life, once to preserve her father's, once to save his
own.

" Al as ! " whispered the recluse to himself, " this it is
to live among lawless tribes and in times of violence, when

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. 359

human life is reckoned as nothing, and the hand and the
dagger are ever ready to second the fierce impulses of the
heart. In such a world of turbulence and perfidy, how
sweet would it be to possess a guardian angel like Mariamne,
unobtrusive when her services were not required, bold in
the moment of danger, watchful at all times. Women in
general are false, fickle, worthless : but Mariamne is an
exception, and my hatred of the sex only heightens my
admiration of the individual who is free from their vices."

As he recalled the manifest pleasure which, under the
sanction of her disguise, she had ever taken in his society,
he could not avoid suspecting that her recent act of cle-
votedness had been indeed prompted by something warmer
than friendship or gratitude : and it both soothed and flat-
tered him to think that, in his present state of poverty and
solitude, he should have become the object of so disinterested
an attachment. His bosom melted at the thought ; and the
tide of human love rushing back into its ancient channel,
with a vehemence proportioned to that which had wrested
it from its natural course, had prepared him for the tender
scene with Mariamne which we have just recorded.

Great indeed was Aaron's astonishment when, upon his
return, he was apprised of this sudden and unexpected
contract. " I ask you not to confirm it," said Hadad,
<e until you shall have heard the outlines of my history,
when both you, and my dear Mariamne, in spite of the
pledge she has given, shall be free to receive or to reject my
offer, as you shall think fit. Let us sit down in the shady
entrance of the grotto, where we may be fanned by the fresh
air, and I will recite to you the few but melancholy events
of my life." In compliance with this request, the Hebrews
placed themselves on either side of their host, who thus
began his relation.

AA 4

360 THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

CHAPTER VII.

" You were both partly right and partly in error/' said
Hadad, ec when you respectively maintained that I was of
Roman and of Hebrew origin ; for my father was of Cam-
pania in Italy, my mother of Jerusalem. Her first husband,
a Jewish merchant, whom she accompanied in his travels,
died in Italy, leaving his young and beautiful widow
scarcely provided with the means of returning to her own
country. Captivated by her charms, Caius Lucius, one
of the municipal Decurions of the city in which she then
resided, made her an offer of his hand ; and the widow,
either induced by the forlorn state in which she had been
left, or won by the attractions and wealth of her suitor,
forgot the peremptory law of Moses that prohibited her
union with a Pagan, and became his wife. Resolved to
make what atonement she could for this deviation from our
statutes, she took especial care that I, the sole issue of her
marriage, should be secretly, though strictly, trained in the
Jewish faith, to which she herself had always inflexibly
adhered, notwithstanding the solitary transgression of her
second nuptials. Thus did I grow up to manhood, bearing
the name and discharging the public duties of a Roman,
cherishing the faith and inheriting many of the national
predilections of a Hebrew. Both my parents expired
within a few months of each other, leaving me, at the age
of four-and-twenty, in possession of a handsome patrimonial
estate, consisting of houses in one of the principal cities of
Campania, and extensive vineyards in its immediate vicinity.
When I was sufficiently recovered from the effects of this
double bereavement to venture into society, I was congra-
tulated as one of the most fortunate young men in the
whole province, thus to have obtained unfettered possession
of my estate at the most appropriate age for enjoying it :
my society was eagerly courted by those who are ever
ready to pay interested homage to wealth — that is to say,

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

361

by nine tenths of my fellow-citizens ; and I was unani-
mously elected, notwithstanding my youth, to the office of
municipal Decurion, which had been held by my father.
That I was exhilarated by this tide of prosperity — that I
was flattered by the courtesies lavished upon me — that I
looked with smiles upon so smiling a world, and fondly
anticipated from it many years of unclouded happiness, I
will not deny ; but I would fain hope that I was not
puffed up with pride or arrogance at this early accession to
civic distinction and independent fortune. Not naturally
vainglorious — not solicitous of public honours — more
prone to study than to pleasure — I was constitutionally
disposed to place my happiness in domestic enjoyments,
and the charms of love and friendship ; and never had any
man higher prospects of felicity in these especial objects.
I had become enamoured of Drusilla, the daughter of a
neighbour, whose charms, even though I was ever an ar-
dent admirer of beauty, seemed, in my too partial estimate^
to constitute her least attraction. She returned my affection ;
and the day of our marriage was fixed. Nor was I, to all
appearance, less blessed in the choice of a friend. Julius
Milo had been my schoolfellow ; from the days of boyhood
our intimacy had never been interrupted; our tastes, habits,
pursuits, were all similar ; I had promoted his advancement
in life, and in various ways had conferred important benefits
upon him.

" Thus did I seem to stand upon the very pinnacle of
fortune, — thus was I on the point of realising the fondest
aspirations of my heart; the present was all sunshine and
serenity, and hope, deceitful hope, threw a still brighter
and more fascinating glory upon the future. Now mark
how suddenly this enchanting prospect was blasted ; how
cruelly the uplifted cup of happiness was dashed from my
lips ; by what a complication of heartlessness, villainy, and
ingratitude I was overwhelmed and ruined ! While I was
making preparations for my approaching nuptials, I received
a legal notice announcing that a namesake and relative of
my late father, denying the legitimacy of my birth, main-
tained himself to be the proper heir, and claimed the estate
to which I had succeeded. Knowing the utter falsehood

362

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

of this impudent assertion, I was at first disposed to treat
it with scorn and ridicule ; but the man of law, whom I
thought it prudent to consult, reminding me that the justice
of my cause, in the general corruption^of the Roman courts,
was by no means a security for its success, advised me to
lose no time in collecting evidence, and to hasten to Rome,
where the trial was to be decided. I did so, bearing with
me such clear, convincing, irrefragable proofs, that I en-
joyed beforehand the prospect of defeating and punishing
the fraudulent claimant, and of returning in triumph to
receive the hand of Drusilla, and the felicitations of my
friend Milo."

Hitherto Hadad had spoken in a calm subdued voice, as
if determined to check the ebullitions of his indignant spirit ;
but at this period of his narrative, smitten with an un-
governable rage at the recollection of his wrongs, he started
from his seat, clenched his hands, and burst into a paroxysm
of misanthropy, stigmatising the whole human race, and
venting especial maledictions upon the heads of Drusilla
and Milo. As soon as he could collect himself, he apolo-
gised to his auditors for this outbursting of passion, again
seated himself between them, and resumed his narrative,

" Listen to me, my friends ; endure my choleric ebul-
litions till you learn their cause, and you will not wonder
at their vehemence. Even now I can scarcely bear to re-
flect upon the hideous baseness of which I was made the
victim, and must hurry over the revolting details. The
judge who was to try my cause was bribed by my opponent j
Milo, the perfidious Milo — my friend Milo, seduced by
the promise of sharing in the plunder, should his testimony
enable the wrongful claimant to rob me of my patrimony,
became an evidence against me, falsely deposing that he had
often heard my father confess my illegitimacy ; by which
complication of fraud, venality, and perjury, I lost my cause,
and suddenly found myself alone in the world, stripped of
my property, astounded, deserted, friendless. ' No, not friend-
less,' I exclaimed, when I recovered the energies of my
mind; for I had at first been so stunned by the blow as to be
incapable of writing or even thinking. ' Drusilla, my dear
Drusilla, more precious than all the gifts of Fortune, ^and

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. S63

too honourable to participate in her fickleness — she at
least remains to me ; her relations are men of substance,
they will assist me to institute a new suit, to reverse this
iniquitous decision, to recover my ravished patrimony.'
A new ray of hope springing up in my bosom at this sug-
gestion, I was on the point of setting off' for Campania,
when I received a letter from Drusilla, stating, that as she
concluded from my silence, as well as from my protracted
residence at Rome, and the altered state of my circumstances,
that I had entirely abandoned all thought of the once pro-
jected union, she had that day, with the concurrence of her
friends, given her hand to Lucius Milo.

This was not bitterness enough. On the same day
came a missive from my fellow-citizens, apprising me
that, as the Decurions were about to give a public spec-
tacle to the people, the expense of which might be incon-
venient in the present reverse of my fortunes, they had
done me the favour to supersede me, and to nominate
Lucius Milo to my office ! You will think, perhaps, that,
as I had been so deeply affected by the loss of my suit,
these complicated and still more stinging calamities, the
bare recollection of which now fires me with an almost
ungovernable wrath, must have utterly overwhelmed me
at the period of their occurrence. Quite the reverse ; they
rather braced me to the endurance of my wrongs, by
calling in to my support pride, hatred, scorn, the hope of
revenge. Indignation gave me fortitude; I thought of
nothing but picking up the fragments of my shattered for-
tune, and hurling them back in the face of fate. Honour,
faith, love, friendship, public and private virtue, appeared
to me such utter chimeras, and the world itself such a sink
of depravity, ingratitude, and corruption, that I burst into
a bitter laugh as I read these epistles, despised myself for
having expected any other treatment than what I had
experienced ; and from that moment the milk of human,
kindness that was within me having been turned into gall,
I began to view my species with unutterable loathing, and
to distrust every thing that wore the semblance of good-
ness.

" The thirst of vengeance, however, prompting me to

304; THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

make one more effort for the recovery of my patrimony, I
drew up a statement of my case, appended to it copies
of my documents — nay, I even procured proofs of the
bribery whereof I had been made the victim, laid the whole
before the Emperor Nero, and demanded justice. Justice
from Nero ! Duped and gulled as I had been, how could
I again trust to human nature, and, above all, to a being
cursed with the possession of despotism, which seldom fails
to make man a devil? My successful opponent, then
rioting at Rome in the plunder of my fortune, had formed
an intimacy with a creature and minion of Nero, named
Sporus, with whose infamous character none that have been
at Rome can remain unacquainted."

(C I have frequently seen him," said Aaron, (f when I
was an inmate of the palace. The wretch accompanied
the Emperor in his flight, and has by this time, I trust,
shared his fate."

" The justice of my case," resumed Hadad, " being as
nothing compared with the influence of this miscreant,
Nero not only confirmed the iniquitous sentence of my
judge, but, at the instance of my opponent, who wished to
be finally relieved from me and my claim, was actually
persuaded by Sporus to sign a warrant for my seizure and
execution, upon some pretext so frivolous that I have even
forgotten its nature. Mere accident made me acquainted
with this atrocious design ; and the hatred of my oppres-
sors, rather than the love of life, prompting me to defeat
their conspiracy, I mounted a fleet horse, galloped to the
sea- shore, and was fortunate enough to find a vessel bound
for Alexandria, on board which I procured a passage, and
arrived in Egypt without accident. It is the boast of the
Romans that their empire extends over the whole civilised
earth, and in that empty vaunt do they often find their
curse; for he who once becomes an object of imperial ven-
geance has no hope of escape* He may fly to the ocean
on one side, to the uttermost bounds of the earth on the
other, but he is still a prisoner ; for the world is only a
large dungeon, of which Caesar is the gaoler. I recalled
what Cicero said to the exiled Marcellus — ' Wherever you
are, remember that you are equally in the power of the

THE INVOLUNTARY PROFIIKT.

365

conqueror." But I would not meanly despair — I would
not surrender while there was yet a possibility of escape ;
and I reflected, moreover, that I was too unimportant an
exile to be actively pursued. I had my choice of plunging
into the desert and the wilderness, or of herding with remote
barbarians. The former being more in accordance with my
misanthropical feelings, I traversed the wilds of Mount
Caucasus, roamed over the Syrian solitudes, and hovered
upon the outskirts of the great Arabian desert, into which I
would have penetrated but from the fear of perishing for
want. Having learned the language of the Idumseans, I re-
solved upon making an excursion into their inhospitable
country, — a hazardous enterprise, which threatened at first
to cost me my life, and terminated by converting me into an
involuntary prophet. Seized by a wandering party of their
horsemen, I was carried off' as a prisoner to their principal
town, where a council of their warriors, having conceived
the notion that I was a spy employed by one of the neigh-
bouring tribes with whom they were at war, decided that
I should be offered up as a sacrifice to a huge mis-shapen
idol, erected in the midst of the temple, or rather the
great barn, in which their deliberations were held. My pro-
testations were vain : I was to be slaughtered at midnight ;
and, in the mean time, I was committed to the prison
which joined the temple.

" With this forlorn prospect before me, my meditations,,
as you may well suppose, were gloomy enough ; but as
night drew on, accompanied by a furious storm, I resolved
not to lose my life without making an effort, however
desperate, at escape. The door was well secured and
guarded on the outside ; th^ aperture by which light was
admitted was too small to allow a passage for my body :
but I perceived a rude species of trap-door in the roof;
and having succeeded in climbing up to the window, I
availed myself of the great muscular strength I had always
possessed to force open the trap, — the noise I made in this
process being rendered inaudible by the fury of the wind,
and an opportune peal of thunder. On gaining this upper
apartment, which I did without difficulty, I beheld a large
sycamore chest in its centre, covered with strange charac-

366

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

ters. Thinking it might afford me a place of momen-
tary concealment in case of quick pursuit, I opened it,
when I found that it contained the robes, the Persian cap,
and the great ram's horn, that I now wear, together with
this mystic wand. In this disguise, of which I imme-
diately perceived the advantage, I lost no time in arraying
myself; and, having completed my investiture, I began in-
stantly to break a way for my escape through the roof,
which, being of thatch, soon yielded to my efforts. It was
now dark night, but by the flashes of lightning I could
ascertain that the building upon which I stood afforded
no means of reaching the ground without the chance of
breaking my bones, and the certainty of alarming the
guard. Before me, however, extended another spacious
roof of thatch, which, although rather higher than my
present position, was bounded at its farther extremity by
a tall tree, the boughs of which would afford me an easy
descent, while the darkness of the tempestuous night, and
the disguise I had assumed, would favour my final escape
after I had once reached the ground.

" Upon the roof, therefore, I clambered, and had crawled
more than half over it, animated with the most lively
hopes of deliverance, when my weight proving too great
for the time-weakened materials beneath me, they gave
way, and I was precipitated to the ground in the very
midst of the temple, where the priests and warriors sur-
rounding the grim idol, to which I was to be offered up,
were making preparations for the sacrifice. The masses of
soft thatch that I carried with me had so far broken my
fall, that, although grievously bruised, I was not disabled ;
and as I raised myself slowly out of the rubbish, particles
of which had extinguished all the torches of Jhe temple,
my hands encountered a chair, into which I threw myself,
and being utterly incapacitated for any farther exertions,
I resolved to abandon myself unresistingly to my fate.
Scarcely had I done so, when several attendants ran in
with fresh torches ; and at the same moment flashes of
lightning, followed by a stunning peal of thunder, threw
an effulgent blaze through the whole interior of the build-
ing. Never shall I forget the scene then revealed to me^

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

nor my own feelings as I sat in harrowing suspense,
awaiting ray doom. The glary horror cast upon the grim
idol, which seemed to tremble in the shivering light; the
ghastly hue imparted to the terror-stricken countenances
of the barbarians, as in various attitudes of amazement
they bent their staring eyes upon me; the preparations
for the sacrifice, and the gleaming hatchet that lay upon
the altar, constituted, indeed, an appalling spectacle ; but
even in that moment the thought that I was a Roman,
little reason as I had to be proud of such a distinction,
made me draw myself up in my seat, and view my in-
tended destroyers with a resolute air. For a few moments
there was a dead, breathless silence ; presently one of the
priests cried out, ( ' It is Hadad the prophet ! " and anon
the whole building rang with vociferous shouts of (e Ha-
dad the prophet ! Hail to Hadad the prophet ! he pro-
mised upon his death-bed to return to us, — and lo ! Heaven
hath sent him down from the sky upon the wings of the
thunder and the lightning ! " At these outcries, many of
the barbarians danced about in ecstasies of joy, while others
fell prostrate before me, or welcomed me back, with every
demonstration of reverence and delight.

" The seer, by whose name I was addressed, and to
whose office I was thus compulsorily elected, having ex-
pired many years before, with a dying promise that he
would return at no distant period to resume his functions,
they had religiously preserved his robes and rod in the
sycamore chest. My accidental investiture in these para-
phernalia, and the mode of my tumbling into the temple
in the midst of thunder and lightning, might have per-
suaded a less superstitious people that I was in reality the
character I represented ; nor could I probably have un-
deceived them, had I even wished to peril my life by
making the attempt. Behold, therefore, the death-devoted
victim suddenly transformed into an Involuntary Prophet,
exercising a higher influence through all the surrounding
district than many of the native chieftains.

" As the world is constituted, every one must be victor
or victim, master or slave. Am I to blame for choosing
the former lot, when it was thus thrust upon my accept-

368

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

ance ? As I had seen lying oracles and juggling priests
perverting the credulity of the public to purposes of mu-
tual hatred and destruction, and fattening on the spoil
extorted from their duped votaries, it struck me that I
might wield the same powerful engine in the cause of
peace, humanity, and civilisation. A strange aim, you
will say, for such a misanthrope as myself; but it was
some consolation to me, some softening of my angry spirit,
to feel that I had obtained a supremacy over my fellow-
creatures, even though I despised them ; to know that I
was duping, deceiving, hoodwinking them, even though I
cheated them into comparative happiness, and an aban-
donment of their barbarous vices. I repeat that I de-
spised mankind, and on that very account I determined
that my own actions should be the reverse of what I be-
held in others. For their good opinion I cared not an
obolus, but I would not forfeit my own ; and thus I
wrought works of love in a spirit of pride and hatred.

<( A Roman detachment had fallen into the hands of
the Arabs. I procured their lives to be spared, negotiated
their ransom, and inculcated upon both parties a future
forbearance from cruelty in the usages of war. A Roman
centurion was commissioned to thank me for my good
offices. Astonished at my command of his language, and
still more at my knowledge of recent occurrences in Rome,
he set me down for an unquestionable seer and wizard,
and spread my fame among his superstitious countrymen ;
who come occasionally to consult me with not less faith
and reverence than the wild rovers of the Desert. I am
an impostor, I confess it; but perhaps not an useless,
certainly not a sordid one, only exacting that the sanctuary
of my hermitage shall be respected, that the means of
subsistence shall be supplied me, and that I shall receive
implicit obedience whenever I interfere for the prevention
of strife and bloodshed, or even when I blow my ram's
horn, which I have acquired the art of doing with a wide-
spreading effect that to these simple people appears super-
natural."

" To that potent instrument is my dear father indebted
for his life," said Mariamne ; " and I wonder not that the

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. 3(>9

natives should be astounded at its voice of thunder. My
heart has sometimes thrilled to hear the broken shivering
sound of the silver trumpets, blowing up an alarum from
the courts of the Temple of Jerusalem; but methinks
there is something still more awful in the peal of your
ram's horn, which seems to make the very rocks tremble
as they rebellow to its roar. There is still a portion of
your history which you have not yet explained, and yet it
is one in which I am more deeply interested than in all the
rest. You have told us nothing of the assassin who at-
tempted your life."

" I had indeed quite forgotten the miscreant. Pre-
viously to my arrival, he had exercised in these districts
the calling of an astrologer and fortune-teller, and had
obtained an influence which he abused to the most mis-
chievous and sordid purposes. My superior fame as a
prophet having occasioned his oracle to be neglected, he
vowed vengeance against me ; and once before raised his
hand to destroy me, when his murderous aim was prevented
and forgiven. He brought his fate upon himself. 1 saw
his countrymen this morning bearing off his dead body ;
thus am I freed from the only enemy that I had to fear.
And now that I have related my history, what say you,
Aaron, what say you, dearest Mariamne, are you willing
to ratify the contract that you have made with the misan-
thrope and anchorite, with Caius Lucius the proscribed
Roman, with Hadad the reputed prophet, but who dis-
claims the title in the presence of Hebrews professing the
same holy faith as himself?"

Though Mariamne was confused and silent, her looks
betrayed how willingly she would confirm their affiance ;
while Aaron, whose cupidity was inflamed by the reflection
that his host, though temporarily dispossessed, was still
the rightful proprietor of a handsome estate in Campania ;
and who, moreover, considered that he could not do better,
in the existing distraction of the country, than to bestow
his daughter upon him, even should he retain his present
prophetical character, yielded a ready assent to their mar-
riage. Furnished with a passport from Hadad, he went
down to Jericho to procure a Levite, with two of his own

370 THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

kinsmen for witnesses, with whom he returned in safety to
the hermitage, where the nuptials were solemnised with
such conformity to the Hebrew ordinances as the peculiar
circumstances of the parties would allow. Having thus
satisfactorily disposed of his daughter,, Aaron, who was
devoted to trade and thrift, and wished not to be an in-
cumbrance on his son-in-law, avowed his intention of em-
barking the little hoard of money which he had so carefully
preserved, in drugs, and of travelling to the different marts
where these commodities were bought and sold. Taking,
therefore, an affectionate farewell of Hadad and Mariamne,
whom he promised to visit as opportunity should occur, he
set off for Jericho, accompanied by the kinsmen whom he
had brought up with him to be present at the marriage.

Not for a single moment did Mariamne, isolated as she
was, ever find any thing gloomy or irksome in the tranquil
sequestration of her abode. Her pliable character, easily
adapting itself to circumstances, fitted her for seclusion ;
while her love for Hadad seemed daily to increase as her
own gentle virtues, and the pleasures he found in conjugal
happiness, gradually weaned him from his cynical asperity,
disposing him to give others better credit for good qualities
as his own resumed their former influence over his bosom.
Nor was there any lack of those pastoral occupations in
which Mariamne found especial pleasure. Her goats, to
which sheep were now added, the doves, the dogs, the
garden, furnished her with constant employment; while
she derived amusement from watching the various charac-
ters and objects of the votaries who came to consult her
husband, or who betook themselves to the rock, as to a sanc-
tuary respected by the wildest barbarians. Aaron did not
forget his promise, but presented himself after the lapse of a
few months, bringing them news of a world of which they
knew and desired to know nothing, their whole happiness
being centred within the narrow precincts of the hermitage.

Thus flew the months, little varied, though always rapid
in their flight, until in process of time Mariamne became
the mother of two children, a son and daughter, the only
addition that seemed wanting to complete her felicity. To
her maternal duties, the most delightful and the most ab-

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. 371

sorbing of any, she devoted herself with her whole gentle
and affectionate heart; loving Hadad still more tenderly
because he was the father of her children ; doting still more
fondly upon the children, because they already disclosed the
cherished lineaments of their father. Upon Hadad, too, his
offspring wrought a healing and humanising effect. He
could not bear to think altogether ill of that nature in
which they were participants, and which revealed itself
in them with an innocence so perfectly guileless, an af-
fection so pure and disinterested, a simplicity so delight-
ful, so heavenly, so utterly irresistible. It was impossible
that such artless unsophisticated beings could grow up to
become perfidious, crafty, selfish, unprincipled hypocrites.
No ; the children of Mariamne would form an exception,
like herself, to the general depravity. There might be
others equally blameless and untainted ; the world, per-
haps, was not so black as he had painted it, but, far from
having any wish to revisit it, he only dreaded lest its moral
infection should approach sufficiently near to contaminate
his own pure and happy circle.

Six or seven years had thus sped away, when one morn-
ing Aaron was recognised approaching the hermitage on a
fleet horse, which he was urging eagerly forward. Know-
ing his aversion to any unnecessary expense, Mariamne
was alarmed at the sight, fearing that he must be the bearer
of some painfully momentous intelligence to justify the
mode of its conveyance : an apprehension, however, which
was speedily dissipated, when her father, in a manifest in-
toxication of joy, rushed towards her, snapping his fingers,
shouting out vociferous congratulations, and embracing both
herself and Hadad, with every demonstration of delight.
As soon as he had recovered his breath and could speak col-
lectedly, he prefaced his intelligence by declaring that it
was nothing more than what he had always anticipated,
always relied on ; and then proceeded to state, that, having
been carried by his mercantile pursuits into Campania,
curiosity had led him to the former residence of his son-
in-law, when he learnt that the fraudulent usurper of his
estates had just expired in great remorse of conscience,
having previously made a formal declaration of his villany

BB 2

372 THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

before the proper authorities, and directed by his will that
the whole property, with the additional purchases he had
made, should be restored to Caius Lucius, the rightful
owner, should he be yet living, or to his legal heirs, should
he be no more.

" Are you stunned, are you stupified ? " cried Aaron,
when he had finished his relation. " Are you struck
dumb, that you neither of you speak a word, nor betray
the least emotion at this exhilarating, this glorious news ? "

" To me it is neither exhilarating nor glorious," said
Hadad calmly : fc what can we derive from this tardy re-
storation of my patrimony ?"

if What can you derive from it ? — houses, lands, horses,
slaves, power, homage, pleasures of every kind."

l( And what are all these to bestow upon us?"

' ' Happiness, to be sure ! "

" Then we may save ourselves a long and useless journey,
for that we already possess."

<l Oh, my dear father ! " said Mariamne, " if you did
but know how happy I am in the society of Hadad and
my children — how it would grieve me to quit this peaceful
hermitage, to part from my little flock, my goats, my
doves, and the beautiful flowers and shrubs that I have
planted and reared with my own hand, all of which I con-
sider as a part of my family."

(f Child ! you are mad, stark staring mad ! " cried Aaron,
pettishly, and then turning to his son-in-law, he continued,
" I have not yet named the greatest of all luxuries which
this change of fortune may confer — the pleasure of being
revenged upon the sordid Drusilla, and the perjured Julius
Milo."

<c I might have held it to be such some years ago ; but,
thank Heaven,. I have outlived the desire of vengeance !
Upon me, indeed, they have conferred a blessing, however
unintentionally, while upon themselves they have entailed
a curse of conscience, to the punishment of which I may
safely leave them."

" I forgot to mention," said Aaron, " that all the out-
lawries and proscriptions of Nero have been long since
reversed, so that you may return to Italy, or even to Rome,

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. 3?3

with perfect safety. But I give you up ! I give you up !
If you neither love fortune, who is your best friend, nor
hate Drusilla and Milo, who are your worst enemies, it is
quite useless to talk to you."

Intoxicated, however, with the long- cherished hope of
having for his son-in-law a man of wealth and distinction,
the persevering Hebrew would not by any means abandon
his design. Taking his daughter apart, he represented to
her that her removal to Campania was not a question of pre-
ference, but of prudence and duty. What was to become
of her should Hadad die, and leave her alone and unpro-
tected in that savage solitude? How would she dispose
of her children, even should her husband live? Would
she marry her daughter to a barbarian of the Desert? would
she train up her son to be a freebooter ? could she hope,
or even wish, that he should succeed to his father's ques-
tionable office ? Of these and similar arguments Mariamne
could not deny the validity ; whatever presented itself to
her mind as a duty to her children, she was disposed im-
plicitly to adopt ; nor was Aaron altogether unsuccessful
in awaking in his daughter certain aspirations for the
luxuries and distinctions which fortune was tendering to
her acceptance — aspirations which, however they may
remain dormant under the influence of circumstances, are
seldom eradicated from any bosom, whether male or female.

Won by these solicitations and impulses, she acceded to
her father's wishes, and used her all-powerful influence to
obtain her husband's consent to their removal. Admitting
the many motives that urged him to compliance, against
which his individual predilections ought to have little weight,
he at length assented to her wishes; declaring, however, with
a sigh of deep regret, that he never expected to find in the
possession of fortune, or the splendour and society of cities,
that happiness which he had enjoyed in the retirement of his
hermitage. His consent being once given, or rather wrung
from him by considerations for the interests of his children,
no time was lost in making preparations for their departure.
Their faithful dogs they determined to take with them ;
their sheep and goats they distributed among the neigh-
bouring tribes ; but when Mariamne, whose feelings had

BB 3

374} THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

been latterly absorbed in the bustle of her removal, went
round the narrow territory in which she had passed such
calm and blissful years — when she came to take a last
farewell of the doves,, and the flowers, and the shrubs, and
the various cherished objects with which she had been so
long familiar, her heart swelled, the tears burst from her
eyes, and she descended the rock, sobbing too bitterly to be
able to reply to her children as they anxiously inquired
the cause of her distress. Aaron, who was in high spirits,
reproached her for her weakness, diverted the attention of
the young folks, and chattered for the whole party. Hadad,
supporting his wife upon his arm, walked onward in the
silence of deep thought, until he turned to take a last,
lingering view of the rock, when he exclaimed in mournful
accents, " Though I have not the guilt of disobedience
upon my conscience, I question whether Adam, when he
was ejected from paradise, felt deeper regret than I do at
quitting my peaceful hermitage ! "

CHAPTER VIII.

THE country being now in a tranquil state, Hadad, who
had always cherished in his bosom an anxious yearn-
ing to see Jerusalem, suggested that they should visit it
before they bent their course to the sea. coast. Its glories,
as he well knew, had all passed away, its noblest monu-
ments had been overturned and laid prostrate in the dust,
but its locality remained unaltered, its precincts had lost
none of their hallowed and sublime associations, and, as a
follower of the Hebrew faith, he could not bear to leave
Palestine without a pilgrimage to the spot where the Holy
City had once stood. At the pronunciation of the last
words the whole party were thrilled with sad emotions.
Aaron, penurious and worldly as he usually was, eagerly
seconded the proposition, observing that he should not
regret the additional expense for the melancholy satisfac-

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

tion of once more gazing upon the hill of Zion, where he
had passed so many years ; and upon the scenes where all
the great events and stupendous miracles of their religion
had received their accomplishment. To the performance
of this devout, though mournful, duty Mariamne was not
less zealously inclined than her companions ; and in that
direction accordingly they first bent their course.

One should have possessed the profound soul-cherished
reverence of an ancient Hebrew for the proudly termed
" City of God/' the magnificent, the peerless, the pride
and glory of the universe ; — one should have grown up
from infancy with the feeling that it was spiritualised
and raised out of its materiality by its having been for
many ages the residence of Deity itself, in the form of
the symbols that hovered over the mercy-seat of the
Sanctuary, and gave forth the oracles of Heaven in an
articulate and audible voice, — in order to judge of the
mingled enthusiasm and distress of mind with which our
travellers, recalling the terrific events of which it had been
the scene, not long after Aaron and Mariamne had made
their escape from its walls, once more approached the con-
fines of Jerusalem. " From the summit of the hill we
are now ascending," said the former, " we shall command
the whole City and the Valley of Jehoshaphat. What a
wilderness are these precincts, once so pleasant with gar-
dens, intermingled with groves of palm, mulberry, and
cedar ! They were dismantled, indeed, when last I tra-
versed them, but not so waste and desolate as they now
are ; not so haggard and utterly sterile. They were then
ravaged by war, but they now show like a long untrodden
desert." While he was lamenting these evidences of total
depopulation, they gained the top of the ascent, when he
uttered an involuntary cry, and remained for some seconds
petrified and speechless. " Eli !" he at length ejaculated,
as the tears trickled down upon his beard, " what a hor-
rible and awful sight ! There is the hill of Moriah, —
but where is the stately Temple, that other hill of marble
and gold that crowned its summit ? Where are the
numerous courts and enclosures of that seemingly impreg-
nable citadel — where is the Holy of Holies, where the
B B 4

376 THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

great and magnificent galleries that ran round the whole
stupendous fabric ? Where are the lofty walls and towers,
and stately palaces, and innumerable houses ? Where is
the City of God ? Gone, gone, gone ! All ashes, rubbish,
dust ! Oh, Mariamne, my child, is not this a fearful and
a withering sight ? I had heard that the ploughshare had
been passed over the ground where the Temple of the
Lord once stood, but I would not believe it. Lo ! not a
stone of it is left standing ! Now, indeed, do I feel that
the God of Israel has deserted his people. The Holy City
is swept away from the face of the earth. Lo ! the
abiding place of the Lord, and of his angels, saints, and
prophets, hath disappeared ; and methinks I should hardly
be more astounded were the sun and moon and stars
to fall from heaven and become extinct ! "

Mariamne's heart throbbed ; she could scarcely see the
dismal prospect before her for the fast-flowing tears that
dimmed her eyes ; and, after having remained for some
time silent, she looked up to Heaven, ejaculating, in the
words of the Psalm, " O God, the heathen are come into
thine inheritance ; thy holy Temple have they defiled, and
made Jerusalem a heap of stones."

" Three lofty structures still remain standing," said
Hadad, who, though deeply affected, was naturally less
overcome than his companions, never having seen Jeru-
salem in its high and palmy state of glory.

" They are the towers built by Herod," said Aaron.
" Titus ordered that those massive fortresses should be
left undemolished as evidences of his victory." The
Hebrew and his daughter stood for some time weeping and
bursting into fresh ejaculations of woe and amazement as
they contemplated the harrowing prospect before them ;
while Hadad bent his eyes upon the scene of desolation,
silently reflecting upon the nothingness of man and his
works, since the accumulated labour of ages, together with
almost a whole people, once the chosen nation of the Lord,
tould thus be swept from the face of the earth in a com-
parative moment.

With lingering feet and heavy hearts they at length
moved forward towards the site of the city ; but so utter

THE INVOLUJS7TARY PROPHET. 377

had been the destruction, nothing at first presenting itself
to the eye but confused masses of rubbish, that even
Aaron, conversant as he had once been with all the loca-
lities, could scarcely now distinguish a single one. The
fountain Siloam, and the brook Cedron, and the features of
nature, indeed, remained unaltered, as if to mock the com-
parative evanescency of man's most glorious structures ; but
he could scarcely determine with certainty where any of the
more celebrated buildings, except the Temple, once reared
their stately heads. " Here, however, must have stood
the Potter's Gate, from the vicinity of which we made our
escape," he said to Mariamne ; " and in this direction must
have been the prison, and Monobuzac's Palace, and the
House of Lebanon wood ; and across this ravine, now
nearly filled with ruins, we must pass to the hill of
Moriah, once crowned with the wonder of the world, the
glorious Temple." Upon climbing, not without difficulty
from the broken nature of the ground, to the site of the
sacred edifice, they found numerous pilgrims and devotees
of both sexes, some singing together with great energy the
79th Psalm, others passionately kissing the earth, beating
their bosoms, weeping, sobbing, invoking curses upon the
heathen, and appealing to Heaven in paroxysms of uncon-
trollable grief and religious ecstasy : a spectacle of misery
and enthusiasm which the visitants could not contemplate
without fresh and profound emotion. " In this direction
stood the Beautiful Gate," said Aaron, when he had reco-
vered sufficient self-possession to resume his duties as a
guide : " and here must have been the Golden Window,
looking towards the north apartments ; and yonder ran
the great outer gallery, where the six thousand fugitives
were burnt to death ; and here, where we are now stand-
ing, within the Court of the Priests, must have been the
altar ; — and this way," continued the Hebrew, hesitating
to advance, and dropping his voice to a reverential whisper,
" was the Sanctuary leading into the Holy of Holies."

Low broken stones having been set up to designate the
boundaries of the latter enclosure, the pious pilgrims had
refrained from treading within its hallowed precincts. Our
travellers gazed upon the space within which had been

378 THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

treasured the most sacred symbols of the Hebrews, the ark
and the mercy-seat, whence the Divine Majesty, sitting
between the cherubim, had given his oracles to Moses and
the High Priests ; and upon this spot, so especially sanc-
tified to the imaginations of a whole devout people during
such a long lapse of ages, they now saw weeds growing in
the midst of ashes and rubbish ! Turning away from the
withering spectacle with feelings of indignant grief and
humiliation which it would be impossible to describe, they
proceeded, at Aaron's suggestion, to the upper town,
where a far different scene awaited them. It is much
easier to destroy the strongest city than to eradicate a reli-
gious principle rooted in the heart's core of a whole com-
munity. Numerous Jews, flocking from remote parts of
Palestine to the consecrated soil of Jerusalem, were busily
employed in rebuilding the houses, availing themselves of
the materials furnished by the ruins of the former city,
which were abundantly scattered in the ravines and valleys.
These new habitations increased so rapidly, that, at a sub-
sequent period, Adrian, the reigning emperor, settled a
Roman colony there, to hold the inhabitants in check ; and
giving to the city the name of JElia Capitolina, erected a
temple to Jupiter on the identical spot where that of the
true God had formerly stood. Maddened at this pro-
fanation, the indomitable spirit of the Jews once more dis-
played itself in a desperate insurrection, the result of which
was their almost total extermination, and the final demo-
lition of Jerusalem as a Jewish habitation, no Hebrew being
allowed even to come within sight of it, except on one day
in the year, which was the anniversary of its destruction.*

* At a later period, St. Jerome, an eyewitness of what he states, gives the
following animated but unfeeling description of one of these anniversary visits :
— "The treacherous husbandmen (alluding to the parable in the Gospel), after
having slain the servants and likewise the Son of God, are forbidden to enter
Jerusalem except upon the day of sadness and lamentation. They must even
pay for the liberty of weeping over the ruins of their city ; and, as formerly
they purchased with money the blood of Christ, they are now obliged to pay for
their own tears, which they must not shed without a price. On the anniver-
sary of the day when Jerusalem was taken and destroyed by the Romans,
multitudes are seen, men and women, loaded with years and covered with
rags, who, in their persons and attire, bear evident marks of the wrath of God.
Whilst the cross upon wh;ch our Lord suffered shines upon Mount Calvary,
and the church erected upon the tomb whence he arose from the dead is ra-
diant in its glory, and the standard of the cross planted upon Mount Olivet
glitters in the sun, this people, as undeserving of compassion as they are

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. 379

Aaron's feelings were not so totally engrossed by the
evidences of national calamity surrounding him on every
side, as to forget altogether his individual concerns. After
much toilful search,, little warranted by the object, he
guided his companions to the spot where, as he conjectured,
his dwelling-house had formerly stood, merely that he
might vaunt his prudence in having dug up his buried
treasure, and made his escape with Mariamne before the
worst horrors of the siege, and the capture of the city, had
yet received their consummation. Of old Zachary, his
faithful servant, he spoke with regret, not doubting that
he had perished in the slaughter ; expressing, at the same
time, a great desire to know whether he had buried the
money he left in his hands, and whether there would be
any possibility of recovering it.

Having wandered for some time amid the blackened
ruins, and visited every spot in the neighbourhood that
derived interest from religious or historical associations,
our travellers turned away from the doomed hills whereon
had stood, for so many ages, the stately city of Jerusalem,
and pursued their course with heavy hearts in the direction
of the sea. Aaron, who, from the desolation he had just
been contemplating, looked forward with additional plea-
sure to the splendour, happiness, and security that he an-
ticipated in Italy, was the first to recover his spirits ; but
Hadad remained plunged in sad and silent reveries ; while
Mariamne, overwhelmed and almost stupified by the horror
of what she had seen, could not reply, or even listen, to her
father's loquacity. It was some consolation, however, to
both, that the country appeared to be in a much more
tranquil, and even a less desolate state than when they had
last traversed it j a circumstance from which they were led
to hope that they should reach the shores of the Mediter-
ranean without incurring any danger. In this expectation
no disappointment occurred : their voyage being not less
fortunate than their journey, they landed in due time at

wretched, bewail the ruin of their Temple. While the tears are yet upon
their cheeks, their hair dishevelled, and their arms livid with self-inflicted
blows, comes a soldier who demands money of them if they would have the
liberty of weeping any longer.

380 THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

Neapolis, where Hadad, at the suggestion of his father-
in-law, dropped the name he had latterly borne, and re-
sumed his patronymic of Caius Lucius, by which we shall
henceforward distinguish him. Rather dejected than elated
at the prospect of the approaching change in his fortunes,
and of a return to the hollow, heartless courtesies of civil-
ised life, Lucius already felt his old misanthropy, though
in a much less acrimonious form, beginning to steal upon
his mind ; and having an invincible repugnance to the
official forms and communications that might be neces-
sary to put him in possession of his villa and estates, he
willingly deputed the management of the whole affair to
Aaron.

Most cheerfully did that active agent undertake the com-
mission, bustling about with a zeal and pomposity propor-
tioned to his sense of the object to be attained. Leaving
his companions at the port where they had landed, he went
forward to the birthplace of Lucius, which was at an easy
distance, to demand restoration of the estates, and to make
whatever preliminary arrangements might be necessary to
give eclat to his triumphal entrance into the town, and his
re-occupation of the paternal villa; for such it might be
termed, being situated without the walls, and provided with
many of the luxuries of a country house. After an absence
of three days, he returned with the joyful intelligence that
no opposition whatever was made to the claim; that all the
tenants of the houses and vineyards which constituted the
estate were anxious to recognise Lucius as their landlord
and proprietor ; and that his townsmen were unanimous in
the wish to make reparation for their former illiberality,
by giving him the most cordial and distinguished reception
in their power. To this information he added, that when
the perjury and ingratitude of Julius Milo had been made
public by the dying declaration of the usurper, both himself
and his wife Drusilla had been hooted from the town with
every mark of ignominy, nor did any one know what had
since become of them; and he concluded his budget of good
news with fresh congratulations and embraces, which, how-
ever, did not seem to exhilarate his son-in-law. " I have
experienced," said the latter, shaking his head distrustfully,

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. 331

<c how much value is to be attached to the sordid goodwill
of my fellow-townsmen, — what confidence I ought to
place in the smiles of fortune, — and I will not again be
made the dupe of either. Acceding to your wishes, those
of my dear Mariamne, and the interests of our children, I
am, nevertheless, ready to resume my patrimony, and again
to occupy that rank in society to which I am entitled by
my birth."

Mariamne did not share this philosophic indifference;
becoming gradually imbued with her father's notions as to
the paramount importance of wealth and distinction ; and
sanctifying this feeling by an impression that it was her
bounden duty to secure the advantages of fortune for her
children, she was not a little elated at the prospect of the
new and more exalted sphere of life upon which she was
about to enter. Averse from all display, Lucius would
have resumed possession of his villa and patrimony in the
quietest and most unostentatious manner possible; but this
neither accorded with the nascent ambition of Mariamne,
nor with the pride of the bustle-loving Aaron, who, not
being chary of expense when another was to bear its burden,
and himself and daughter to participate in the state and
homage it might excite, not only engaged a handsome
equipage to convey them to the town, but apprised the
municipality beforehand of the intended hour of their ar-
rival. Their entrance, therefore, was something like a
petty triumph, all Lucius's tenants coming out to meet and
congratulate him, followed by half the inhabitants of the
place, who welcomed the new-comers with every demon-
stration of joy ; and scarcely had Lucius reached his villa,
when a deputation presented themselves, requesting permis-
sion to replace upon the list of their municipal Decurions
the name of the "much-injured" Caius Lucius. Dis-
gusted rather than flattered at the sordid timeserving
spirit that had dictated the offer, he thus dryly, and, as
some thought, cynically declined it. " That I have been
much injured, my fellow- citizens, no one knows better
than yourselves ; but as the dispossession from my estate
afforded no valid plea for your depriving me of the office,
the recovery of my rights gives me no claim to be restored

382 THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

to it. If you require a Decurion who is secure against the
corruption of judges, or the perjury and ingratitude of his
dearest friends, you must search elsewhere ; for I doubt
whether you will find him in all Campania." Though the
applicants felt the rebuke, they persisted in pressing their
point ; but as the recusant remained immovable, they were
fain to retire without accomplishing their purpose.

Scarcely more gracious was his reception of others who
pressed forward with interested felicitations, or thought to
ingratiate themselves by lavishing abuse upon Milo, Drusilla,
and the deceased usurper of the estate. Their calculating
courtesies were detected and despised j their attempted
flatteries were repressed with a stern frown ; not even their
most insidious and wheedling artifices could deceive him :
they only served partially to revive that misanthropical
spirit which, under the mellowing operation of time and
the soothing influence of domestic happiness, had for seme
years past been gradually softening down. In the general
corruption of manners, it might have been difficult for him
to find a spirit so manly, philosophical, and upright as his
own ; and he had no wish, like Diogenes, to light a lantern
and go about the town searching for an honest man. Long
accustomed to seclusion, and revolting from the companion-
ship of neighbours, all of whom seemed to be actuated by
the same abject, grovelling selfishness, he gladly betook
himself to his favourite study of astronomy, and to the en-
largement and decoration of his library. Even the super-
intendence of his estate, and the control of his household
affairs, soon became so irksome to him, that he willingly
resigned the former to the care of Aaron, the latter to the
absolute disposal of Mariamne.

Than Aaron he could not well have selected a better or
more competent steward ; but to invest the inexperienced
Mariamne with the unstinted command of money, and the
sole direction of a large establishment, was an indiscreet
and unfortunate measure. Suddenly acquired riches, espe-
cially when their possessor has been educated in poverty,
have generally proved a dangerous gift ; nor was Mariamne
qualified by her disposition, amiable as it was, to offer any
exception to the rule. Stability of character she did not

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. 383

possess. As her ductile mind easily received the form
stamped upon it by surrounding circumstances, it was no
inconsistency that the same individual who at the hermitage
had been diffident, unassuming, and humble, should, when
suddenly transported into the totally different sphere she
now occupied, where she was exposed to all the seductions
of fortune and the blandishments of flattery, gradually be-
come vain, confident, and haughty. Like many others of
stronger mental temperament than herself, she could bear
adversity much better than prosperity. The sycophants
and parasites who had been instantly discomfited when
they presumed to assail Lucius, found little difficulty in
gaining the ear, and perverting the judgment, of his
flexible wife ; nor can we wonder that when she saw the
profound and wide-spread homage her wealth and station
procured her, she should attach a proportionate importance
to their possession. Her flatterers, affecting to be rapturous
admirers of the foreign style of her beauty, so much superior
to that of the Romans, piqued her ambition, by giving her
the palm over all her rivals, not only in personal charms,
but in the fashion of her dress, as well as the taste and
splendour of her entertainments. To justify this adulation,
not less than to mortify the hostile belles, some of whom
kept aloof, and spoke slightingly of her as a Jewess and a
barbarian, Mariamne, with a spirit worthy of a better cause,
defied their illiberal and unsocial spirit, and, if she could
not conciliate, was resolved at least to eclipse them. Her
duty to her children had been adduced as an argument for
taking possession of the estate ; and her duty to her husband
was now urged as a pretext for exhibiting all the splendour
that so productive an estate warranted her in assuming. As
the wife of Caius Lucius, she was determined to assert her
dignity, to show these proud Roman dames that she would
take her rank with the best of them. Not that she valued
such distinctions herself, but she would not suffer the
honour of her husband to be compromised.

Her vanity and ambition being sanctioned, as she ima-
gined, by so laudable a motive, she plunged boldly into ex-
pense, imported the newest fashions from Rome, outvied
every competitor in the magnificence of her attire, surpassed

384 THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

all opponents in the variety and costliness of her entertain-
ments ; outflashed all others by the superior brilliancy of
her diamonds at the public shows and spectacles, where she
always selected the most conspicuous place. Artists were
brought from the capital to paint and decorate the walls of
her apartments, to build larger and more sumptuous baths,
to tesselate her floors in the last improved style ; festive
wreaths were almost daily suspended over the doorway ;
every room resounded with the revelry of dancers, singers,
musicians, and buffoons. From a spirit of nationality,
Aaron had not been sorry to excite mortification and envy
in those who had presumed to twit himself and his
daughter with being barbarians ; but he at length took
alarm at the expenses of her triumph, and counselled her
on the subject. The once submissive and acquiescent
Mariamne, however, had now become self-willed. She
would not be deficient, she said, in filial respect ; but she
added, with a look and tone of hauteur, that she must be
the mistress of her own house ; that she must uphold her
husband's dignity ; and she proceeded to issue orders for a
still more magnificent entertainment than any she had yet
given.

Disturbed in his studies by the confusion of his house,
and the uncongenial sounds of festive riot, Lucius had more
than once expostulated with his wife, warning hjer that the
sycophants who prompted and benefited by her profusion
- were but as the swallows, who came to feather their nests
beneath her roof, during the sunshine and summer of her
prosperity, but who would fly away with the first wintry
cloud, leaving nothing but dirt and rubbish behind them.
Sanguine and inexperienced, Mariamne would not think so
harshly of her friends, vindicating their attachment, and
defending her enlarged hospitality by the same plea that
she had urged to her father. The husband ridiculed this
pretext, upbraiding his wife with the change in her character,
and her inability to bear the smiles of Fortune so well as
she had endured her frowns. Tears and protestations were
the usual reply to this rebuke, but the conduct that had
called it forth underwent no change. Disappointed and
chagrined, Lucius renewed his complaints in an increasing

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. 385

tone of asperity, which was met by the reproach that he no
longer loved her as he used to do, or he would not interfere
with recreations so innocent in themselves, and so consistent
with the rank she now occupied in society. A diminution
of mutual affection was the natural consequence of these
altercations, and occasional estrangements ensued. Lucius
confined himself to his study, or made excursions to a small
farm that he possessed at the foot of Mount Lactantius,
some miles from the town. Mariamne, as her domestic
happiness decreased, sought solace in dissipation, and in
the pride of giving more numerous and splendid parties
than any of her rivals.

Such were the motives that prompted her to make the
grand gala, to which we have alluded, more conspicuously
magnificent than any of its predecessors. All the inhabit-
ants of the better class were invited without distinction, —
friends that they might share her triumph, enemies that
they might envy it ; no cost or contrivance being spared
to justify both feelings, and to prove that the Jewess and
the barbarian, as she had been tauntingly termed, could
eclipse the proudest of the Roman dames. Not only were
the best musicians and singers engaged, but Indian jugglers,
buffoons, and dancing-girls were put in requisition to vary
the amusements ; a little pantomime was prepared, for
which a temporary stage had been erected ; and a lottery,
consisting entirely of prizes, some of considerable value,
others designedly insignificant to provoke a laugh, was to
wind up the festivities of the day. At an early hour of the
morning all was bustle and preparation. Numerous slaves
arid servants, crowned with chaplets, were busily employed
spreading Tyrian carpets, hanging Persian arras and silken
draperies upon the walls and windows of the principal
saloon, scattering saffron -water and other odoriferous per-
fumes, suspending wreaths, distributing flowers, bringing
in snow from a vault in the garden to cool the wine,
shutting out the sun, and preparing large fans to ventilate
the guests; for it was the latter end of August, and the
weather was unusually sultry.

The master of the mansion, offended at this glaring op-
position to his expressed wishes, took no art in the pro-
c c

386 THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

ceedings, and even declined to appear, confining himself to
his study. His displeasure was unheeded, and his assistance
was not required. Fired at the thought of the triumph
she was about to achieve, Mariamne was everywhere,
superintending, ordering, and altering, until she had seen
every preparation completed, when she attired herself with
the utmost magnificence, and seating herself in her vesti-
bule, awaited with a beating heart the arrival of her guests.
Wreathed with flowers, and decked in all their gala finery,
her visitants soon poured in, spreading themselves through
the apartments, admiring, wondering, ridiculing, and abus-
ing, according to their respective feelings. In the hearing
of Mariamne, however, there was but one tone — that of
unbounded admiration and flattery. With affected ecstasy,
some lauded the splendour of the atrium or vestibule, in
the centre of which a fountain diffused a refreshing coolness ;
others praised the paintings and rare devices on the walls,
the beautifully tesselated floors and mosaic figures, the gor-
geous preparations for the banquet ; every thing, in short,
obtained the most zealous eulogies in the hearing of the
hostess, although many of her flatterers took an ample re-
venge when her back was turned. Whatever might be the
feelings of individuals, their countenances told no tales, and
the festival presented a gay, glittering, joyous scene, that
extorted admiration even from the envious. As the throng
increased, some betook themselves to alcoves and recesses
to play dice ; the ladies who had white and delicate hands
had recourse to the game of morra * ; many strolled into
the garden at the back of the house, some walked in the
ambulatory : but the greatest number was collected on a
raised terrace with seats and summer-houses, which com-
manded a delightful view over the rich and fertile plain of
Pompeii, enlivened with towns and villas, among which
wound the meandering river Sarnus ; the prospect being
bounded on the left by the distant islands and gleaming
waters of the Tyrrhenian Sea; on the right by the deep blue
hills of Nola and Nocera, whence the river might be traced;
and in front by Mount Vesuvius, at that time overshaded

* Guessing at the number of fingers mutually raised up ; a game still played
by the lower orders in Italy.

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. 387

with groves, luxuriant orchards, and vineyards, and so far
from inspiring any terror — for it was unknown as an active
volcano — that the poets had imagined it to be an Elysium
of pleasure, and the favourite resort of the rural deities.

On the terrace had presently assembled the mass of the
company from all quarters, attracted by a vast and singular
cloud ascending into the atmosphere from the summit of
the mountain, in some places dark and spotted, in others
vividly bright. Upon this strange object all eyes were pre-
sently fixed with a deep interest, but without any feeling of
alarm, watching it as, it majestically climbed higher, and
higher, and higher still, until it had attained an immense
elevation, when it spread out horizontally, in form like the
branches of a pine. At this juncture a violent shock of
an earthquake was felt ; the tiles from the top of Lucius's
house were shaken down into the paved court with a loud
crash ; and the Pompeians, whose city had been nearly
destroyed by a similar calamity not many years ago, be-
coming instantly sensible of their danger, were seized with
a frenzy of terror. Ere yet they could rush from the
terrace, from the garden, from the apartments of Lucius's
villa, without knowing whither they should fly, the enor-
mous cloud they had been watching burst with a stunning
and astounding explosion, precipitating over the whole
country an uninterrupted torrent of hot cinders and pumice
stones, mixed with black and broken pieces of burning rock
and boiling mud, which veiling the light of the sun,
completed the horror of the scene by a mid-day darkness.
Throughout the villa of Lucius, and indeed the whole
town of Pompeii, all was confusion, flight, and an agony of
terror ; the shrieks of women, the cries and clamour of men,
and the wailful lowing and howling of maddened cattle,
being mingled with the repeated explosions of the moun-
tain, as it vomited forth its burning bowels into the air.

At the first alarm, Mariamne, exhausted and unnerved
by her previous exertions, sank fainting upon the terrace ;
her children, whom she had fantastically dressed up for
the festive party, ran screaming to seek their father ; the
guests, not one of whom offered the smallest assistance to
their helpless hostess, hurried to their own homes, except

388 THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

a few who took refuge in the cellars of the villa as the only
place of immediate safety ; the slaves, as usual upon all
occasions of consternation and confusion, betook themselves
to pillage, bursting tumultuously into the gorgeous banquet-
room, devouring the viands and precious wines, and then
decamping with the plate. Starting from his study at the
first shock of the earthquake, Lucius ran into the garden,
and meeting his terrified children, was by them conducted
to their still senseless mother, whom he took up in his
arms, and carried into one of the wooden summer-
houses, being afraid to convey her to the main building,
lest its roof should be endangered by new shocks of the
earthquake. Desiring his children to remain there, he
hurried to procure restoratives from the villa, assailed,
both in going and returning, by the falling masses of vol-
canic matter, as well as by the noxious exhalations they
emitted. He returned, however, in safety, and by proper
applications soon succeeded in reviving Mariamne, although
so confused by the uncertain recollection of what had oc-
curred, and scared by the terrific noises of the mountain,
and the clatter of the falling materials on the wooden
covering of the summer-house, as to be quite stupified and
bewildered, and only able to utter incoherent ejaculations.
Distressed and awe-stricken at this great convulsion of
nature, but still firm and collected in the midst of it, Lucius
thought only of preserving the lives of his family, — an
object which seemed most likely to be attained, should the
eruption continue and the concussions be renewed, by re-
moving them to the sea-shore, and getting them on
board ship. The dire commotion of the elements might,
however, subside as rapidly as it had burst forth, in
which case it would be better to remain at the villa, than
expose his family to the dangers of a removal. Aaron,
whom Lucius had at length found, after shouting out his
name for a considerable time, concurring in this opinion,
they remained watching the awful phenomena before and
around them until night came on, when a momentary pause
gave reason to hope that the worst throes of nature were
over. Suddenly, however, broad refulgent expanses of fire
burst from every part of Vesuvius, and shining with re-

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. 389

doubled splendour through the darkness, glared over a
scene now accompanied by the horrors of a continued earth-
quake, which, shaking the edifices from their foundations,
and precipitating their roofs upon the heads of the af-
frighted beings who had sought shelter beneath them,
threatened universal desolation.

As a part of the villa and its supporting columns fell to
the earth with a frightful crash, burying in its ruins all
that remained unpillaged of the magnificent banquet,
Lucius thanked Heaven that he had taken refuge in the
wooden summer-house, which, though it rocked violently
to and fro, did not fall to pieces. Instant flight seeming
now to be the only chance of safety, he committed Mari-
amne and her children to the care of Aaron, and hurried
to the offices, which still remained standing, for the pur-
pose of procuring a carriage to convey them away. From
his numerous slaves and servants, even if he could have
found them, no obedience was to be expected at such a
moment of panic and universal insubordination ; but the
powerful and undismayed Lucius needed little extraneous
assistance when his own resolute energies were once called
forth. Blindfolding two of his stoutest mules, to prevent
their being startled by the incessant flashes, he harnessed
them to a carriage, — which he had previously dragged, by
incredible exertions, over a mound of rubbish, — when he
returned for his wife and children, encouraging them by
the collected firmness of his demeanour, while he exhibited
so much tenderness, forethought, and solicitude for their
safety, that the now conscious Mariamne felt a pang at her
heart as she recollected how often she had latterly accused
him of being cynical and morose, and upbraided him with
a diminution of his love. Binding his robe, which he tore
for the purpose, around their heads as a protection against
the falling stones and cinders, he escorted them to the
carriage, placed them within it, and desired Aaron to
follow, declaring that he himself would be their driver.

" I cannot leave the villa," cried Aaron, " without my
money. All that I am worth in the world is secured in
an iron box beneath the stairs of my bed-room. I will
c c 3

390 T.HE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

run for it — those apartments remain uninjured — and will
return to you immediately."

fc Madman ! " exclaimed Lucius indignantly, te what is
a bag of dross at such a moment as this ?"

<l Ten times more precious than ever. Are we not all
utterly ruined ? and may I not be reduced to beg my bread
unless I can secure this treasure ? "

" I will not endanger lives more dear to me than my
own, for an object so sordid and contemptible."

" And I value not my life without the means of living.
Risk nothing, however, on my account. Drive on — drive
on, and I will overtake you before you reach the end of the
road of Tombs." With these words Aaron ran towards
the house, spite of the entreaties of Mariamne and the
reproaches of her husband, who left him, as he said, to his
own obstinacy and avarice, and urged forward his mules,
already restrained with the utmost difficulty, from the heat
of the cinders accumulated around their legs. At the end
of the road of Tombs Lucius stopped, calling loudly and
repeatedly upon Aaron ; but his voice, powerful as it was,
was drowned in the universal uproar. Ashes and rubbish,
mixed with hot liquid mud, fell around them in such quan-
tities, that a little delay would have imbedded and glued
them to the ground ; and all farther deliberation was
quickly prevented by the mules themselves, who, wounded
and maddened by the pumice-stones, became unmanageable,
and plunged wildly forward.

In the open country, where they had anticipated greater
safety, spectacles of terror and misery burst upon them
with hideous aggravation. Numerous fugitives, covering
their heads with pillows, or whatever defence they could
snatch up, ran about wildly and with piteous outcries.
Many were lying dead, either killed by the fall of heavy
stones, or poisoned by noxious exhalations ; others, thrown
down by the rocking of the earth, and unable to arise,
were imploring that aid which all needed and none could
afford. The concussions became so violent that the car-
riages, agitated to and fro, could scarcely be kept upright,
even when propped with stones ; the intense darkness was

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. 391

rendered more appalling by the fitful glare of torches, or
the transient blaze of lightning that revealed new sights
of misery, new objects of terror ; while the horror of the
whole scene was consummated by incessant and tremendous
explosions from the volcano, resembling peals of the loudest
thunder, accompanied with a continued hoarse bellowing,
and rushing noises, as of the sea in a violent storm. The
disturbed imaginations of the fugitives, adding chimerical
dangers to those that were real, conjured up before them
huge giants and terrific spectres, stalking about with men-
acing' gestures through the gleaming darkness. No wonder
that the wretched Pompeians, as they witnessed this uni-
versal convulsion of Nature, imagined that Earth was
returning to her primaeval chaos ; that the last day was
come, and that gods and men, and the world itself, were
about to be involved in one universal ruin. To our He-
brews it recalled the recorded destruction of the cities of
abomination ; and Mariamne and her children would almost
have abandoned every hope of escape, especially when they
saw the numbers perishing around them, but for the sus-
taining fortitude and presence of mind of Lucius, who up-
held their sinking courage, and pledged himself either to
effect their deliverance, or to perish with them.

Resolutely did he press forward towards the beach,
imagining, as did multitudes of others, that the sea would
afford certain means of retreat ; but the boisterous agitation
of that element, occasioned by the convulsive heaving of the
earth, precluded all possibility of escape, and only increased
the danger by accumulating the people in dense masses.
A cloud of thick smoke, bringing with it a shower of fine
ashes and the most noxious exhalations, rolled like a torrent
among the miserable fugitives, who, in their consternation,
crushed and trampled down one another, as they pressed
forward without an object, amid darkness and desolation,
some invoking death with outstretched hands to deliver
them from such insupportable anguish. This was by far
the greatest danger our Hebrews had to encounter, though
their whole flight was a succession of continued life-perils.
More than once was Lucius in danger of suffocation from the

392 THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

smoke*, of being overwhelmed with the volcanic matter,
or borne down by the blind and maddened crowd ; but his
mules were fortunately young and vigorous, and after in-
credible exertions, and a hundred hairbreadth escapes, he
at length succeeded in disentangling his carriage from the
throng, turned the mules' heads towards the East, and was
eventually fortunate enough to reach his little farm at the
foot of Mount Lactantius, himself covered with bruises, but
without any serious injury, while his wife and children
had only suffered from the effects of terror and exhaustion.
Mariamne's mind, however, remained sunk in such an
utter prostration, that she could scarcely utter a word.
When she caught a view of her pale and haggard features
in a mirror, and surveyed her magnificent gala-dress all
soiled and torn, and the blaze of her diamonds quenched
in dirt and ashes, a deep sense of humiliation sent a pang
to her heart; a conviction of her own folly, vanity, and
arrogance, and of the worthlessness of her pretended friends,
filled her with a sharp remorse ; and as she sank upon her
knees, endeavouring to return thanks to Heaven that her-
self and her family had thus far been spared in the general
calamity, she penitently murmured — ' ' Richly have I
merited that the dust and ashes, wherewith I am now
covered, should for ever be my portion ; in sackcloth — in
sackcloth, not in these gorgeous trappings, should 1 be
clad:" — and as she spake she tore away her gauds and
jewels, dashed them upon the ground in a passion of re-
pentant grief, and then pouring forth her thanks for the
signal and undeserved mercy she had experienced, made
the most solemn vows of future amendment.

Fortunate, indeed, might Lucius be deemed in thus
having reached a place of comparative security, while the
mass of the Pompeians remained for three days and nights
exposed to all the anguish of suspense — all the fury of the
still raging volcano. Many were stifled by the mephitic
vapour ; others, spent with the toil of forcing their way
through deep and almost impassable roads, sank down to
rise no more ; some died from terror and inanition. On

* It proved fatal, as is well known, to the elder Pliny, on the beach at
Stabia.

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. 3Q3

the fourth morning the darkness began gradually to clear
away, the real day appeared, the sun shining with a wan,
ghastly light, as in an eclipse: but all nature, to the
weakened eyes, seem changed; for towns and fields had
disappeared under one expanse of white ashes, or were
doubtfully marked here and there, like the more prominent
objects after an Alpine fall of snow.

It was Lucius's first care, as soon as he could venture
forth with safety, to seek the missing Aaron, whose prob-
able fate had inspired the most lively alarms, both in him-
self and Mariamne. For this purpose he returned to
Pompeii, contemplating the still smoking ruins with a
withering of heart almost as intense as that which he had
felt in surveying the desolation of the once stately Jerusa-
lem : but, alas ! the road of the Tombs where he was to
have met his father-in-law was no longer distinguishable ;
and of his own handsome villa nothing remained but a
few columns, more than half buried in ashes, and in the
rubbish of the pediment and roof which they had once
supported. From his fellow-townsmen whom he found
upon the spot, endeavouring to individualise their habita-
tions, and glean something from the wrecks, he could
gather no tidings of Aaron, but was himself beset with
inquiries respecting the guests at his wife's grand entertain-
ment, many of whom were missing. He could furnish no
information whatever. They were never heard of after ;
neither the bodies of these individuals nor that of Aaron
could be found, though a most diligent search was made
for them.*

So utterly devoid of selfishness was the mind of Lucius,
so completely was it engrossed in regret for the probable

* At Pompeii, in the year 1775, a suburban villa was excavated, at the en-
trance to which, from the road of the Tombs, was found the skeleton of an in-
dividual holding a^purse containing many coins and medals, and a key. In a sub-
terranean passage of the same building amid large earthen wine vases, ranged
in order against the walls, w_ere discovered twenty-three other skeletons, with
ear-rings, bracelets, and various ornaments, the bones of the fingers of some
still adhering to trifling articles they had wished to preserve. It is presumed
they died from suffocation, since the volcanic powder was so fine that the
forms of their persons and apparel remained impressed on the indurated
matter. The mould of the bosom of one is yet shown in the Museum of Na-
ples. Whether the first skeleton be that of Aaron with his treasure, and the
key of his iron box ; and the latter-mentioned remains, those of Mariamne's
gaily attired guests who took refuge in the cellar, we leave to the conjectures
of our readers.

394 THK INVOLUNTARY PROPHET.

fate of Aaron, and commiseration for the sufferers whom
he had seen deploring the loss of relatives or the destitu-
tion of property, that his own altered circumstances did
not occur to him until after his return to the farm. His
houses were laid prostrate, his vineyards were covered with
ashes, his whole estate was a mass of rubbish, not worth an
oholus. But he was too much of a philosopher to grieve
for the privation of that, the possession of which had af-
forded him so little pleasure ; and he had subsequent reason
to congratulate himself that, if he had lost a fortune, he
had at least found a wife. From that moment Mariamne
became an altered and amended woman. A belief in the
special judgments of Heaven springs less perhaps from the
piety than from the vanity of individuals, who imagine
themselves of sufficient importance in the eyes of the Deity
to justify a deviation from the ordinary course of nature.
From this weakness Mariamne was not free. She could
not divest herself of the impression that the loss of her
father, and the deprivation of the fortune she had abused,
were intended as judicial punishments for her pride, ex-
travagance, and ostentation : an idea which, however it
might be founded in error, was productive of the most
salutary effects. Shaking off the intoxication produced by
her sudden accession to wealth, she became once more
what she had been at the hermitage in Judaea, meek,
lowly, simple-minded, devoted to her children, to her
household duties, but, above all, anxious, by her submissive
and affectionate demeanour to her husband, to make some
atonement for that temporary interruption to their conjugal
attachment and happiness of which she had been the
cause; a happiness, however, which flowed over the re-
mainder of their lives with the greater fulness from the
momentary stoppage of its current. Nor did his change
of circumstances prove less beneficial to Lucius than to his
wife. Annoyed by the uncongenial splendour and gaiety
of his villa, disgusted with the sordid flatteries of his wife's
" flies and shadows," — for so he termed her sycophants
and parasites, — his misanthropical humour had been rapidly
recovering its ascendancy over his mind ; while in the
retirement of his present life, in the occupations of his

THE INVOLUNTARY PROPHET. 39,5

little farm, in his studies, in the education of his children,
in the society and affection of the reformed Mariamne, he
regained that equanimity which had blessed the latter years
of his abode at the hermitage ; and though he would still
occasionally indulge in cynical remarks upon his fellow -
creatures, there was nothing acrimonious in his heart,
nothing uncharitable in his actions. " We should both
have been ultimately spoilt/' would he often say to his
wife, " had we retained our estate. Twice has its depriva-
tion restored me to happiness. Thank Heaven ! it is now
gone for ever ! Our example, as well as our precepts,
dearest Mariamne, will inculcate upon our children this
most useful and most true of all lessons, — that prosperity,
misused, is generally our heaviest curse ; while adversity,
improved, not less frequently becomes our greatest bless-
ing!"

THE END.

LONDON :

Printed by A. SPOTTISWOODE,
New-Street-Square.

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2056

Al

1835

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