Leila or, the Siege of Granada, Complete Read online

  CHAPTER III. THE LOVERS.

  When Muza parted from Almamen, he bent his steps towards the hill thatrises opposite the ascent crowned with the towers of the Alhambra;the sides and summit of which eminence were tenanted by the luxuriouspopulation of the city. He selected the more private and secludedpaths; and, half way up the hill, arrived, at last, before a low wallof considerable extent, which girded the gardens of some wealthierinhabitant of the city. He looked long and anxiously round; all wassolitary; nor was the stillness broken, save as an occasional breeze,from the snowy heights of the Sierra Nevada, rustled the fragrant leavesof the citron and pomegranate; or as the silver tinkling of waterfallschimed melodiously within the gardens. The Moor's heart beat high: amoment more, and he had scaled the wall; and found himself upon a greensward, variegated by the rich colours of many a sleeping flower, andshaded by groves and alleys of luxuriant foliage and golden fruits.

  It was not long before he stood beside a house that seemed of aconstruction anterior to the Moorish dynasty. It was built over lowcloisters formed by heavy and timeworn pillars, concealed, for the mostpart by a profusion of roses and creeping shrubs: the lattices abovethe cloisters opened upon large gilded balconies, the super-additionof Moriscan taste. In one only of the casements a lamp was visible; therest of the mansion was dark, as if, save in that chamber, sleep keptwatch over the inmates. It was to this window that the Moor stole;and, after a moment's pause, he murmured rather than sang, so low andwhispered was his voice, the following simple verses, slightly variedfrom an old Arabian poet:--

  Light of my soul, arise, arise! Thy sister lights are in the skies; We want thine eyes, Thy joyous eyes; The Night is mourning for thine eyes! The sacred verse is on my sword, But on my heart thy name The words on each alike adored; The truth of each the same, The same!--alas! too well I feel The heart is truer than the steel! Light of my soul! upon me shine; Night wakes her stars to envy mine. Those eyes of thine, Wild eyes of thine, What stars are like those eyes of thine?

  As he concluded, the lattice softly opened; and a female form appearedon the balcony.

  "Ah, Leila!" said the Moor, "I see thee, and I am blessed!"

  "Hush!" answered Leila; "speak low, nor tarry long I fear that ourinterviews are suspected; and this," she added in a trembling voice,"may perhaps be the last time we shall meet."

  "Holy Prophet!" exclaimed Muza, passionately, "what do I hear? Why thismystery? why cannot I learn thine origin, thy rank, thy parents? Thinkyou, beautiful Leila, that Granada holds a rouse lofty enough to disdainthe alliance with Muza Ben Abil Gazan? and oh!" he added (sinking thehaughty tones of his voice into accents of the softest tenderness),"if not too high to scorn me, what should war against our loves and ourbridals? For worn equally on my heart were the flower of thy sweet self,whether the mountain top or the valley gave birth to the odour and thebloom."

  "Alas!" answered Leila, weeping, "the mystery thou complainest of is asdark to myself as thee. How often have I told thee that I know nothingof my birth or childish fortunes, save a dim memory of a more distantand burning clime; where, amidst sands and wastes, springs theeverlasting cedar, and the camel grazes on stunted herbage witheringin the fiery air? Then, it seemed to me that I had a mother: fond eyeslooked on me, and soft songs hushed me into sleep."

  "Thy mother's soul has passed into mine," said the Moor, tenderly.

  Leila continued:--"Borne hither, I passed from childhood into youthwithin these walls. Slaves ministered to my slightest wish; and thosewho have seen both state and poverty, which I have not, tell me thattreasures and splendour, that might glad a monarch, are prodigalisedaround me: but of ties and kindred know I little: my father, a stern andsilent man, visits me but rarely--sometimes months pass, and I see himnot; but I feel he loves me; and, till I knew thee, Muza, my brightesthours were in listening to the footsteps and flying to the arms of thatsolitary friend."

  "Know you not his name?"

  "Nor, I nor any one of the household; save perhaps Ximen, the chief ofthe slaves, an old and withered man, whose very eye chills me into fearand silence."

  "Strange!" said the Moor, musingly; "yet why think you our love isdiscovered, or can be thwarted?"

  "Hush! Ximen sought me this day: 'Maiden,' said he, 'men's footstepshave been tracked within the gardens; if your sire know this, you willhave looked your last on Granada. Learn,' he added, in a softer voice,as he saw me tremble, 'that permission were easier given to thee to wedthe wild tiger than to mate with the loftiest noble of Morisca! Beware!'He spoke, and left me. O Muza!" she continued, passionately wringing herhands, "my heart sinks within me, and omen and doom rise dark before mysight!"

  "By my father's head, these obstacles but fire my love, and I wouldscale to thy possession, though every step in the ladder were thecorpses of a hundred foes!"

  Scarcely had the fiery and high-souled Moor uttered his boast, than,from some unseen hand amidst the groves, a javelin whirred past him,and as the air it raised came sharp upon his cheek, half buried itsquivering shaft in the trunk of a tree behind him.

  "Fly, fly, and save thyself! O God, protect him!" cried Leila; and shevanished within the chamber.

  The Moor did not wait the result of a deadlier aim; he turned; yet, inthe instinct of his fierce nature, not from, but against, the foe; hisdrawn scimitar in his hand, the half-suppressed cry of wrath tremblingon his lips, he sprang forward in the direction the javelin had sped.With eyes accustomed to the ambuscades of Moorish warfare, he searchedeagerly, yet warily through the dark and sighing foliage. No sign oflife met his gaze; and at length, grimly and reluctantly, he retracedhis steps, and quitted the demesnes; but just as he had cleared thewall, a voice--low, but sharp and shrill--came from the gardens.

  "Thou art spared," it said, "but, haply, for a more miserable doom!"