Leila or, the Siege of Granada, Complete Page 9

  CHAPTER III. THE HERO IN THE POWER OF THE DREAMER.

  It was in the same chamber, and nearly at the same hour, in whichwe first presented to the reader Boabdil el Chico, that we are againadmitted to the presence of that ill-starred monarch. He was not alone.His favourite slave, Amine, reclined upon the ottomans, gazing withanxious love upon his thoughtful countenance, as he leant against theglittering wall by the side of the casement, gazing abstractedly on thescene below.

  From afar he heard the shouts of the populace at the return of Muza, andbursts of artillery confirmed the tidings of triumph which had alreadybeen borne to his ear.

  "May the king live for ever!" said Amine, timidly; "his armies have goneforth to conquer."

  "But without their king," replied Boabdil, bitterly, "and headed by atraitor and a foe. I am meshed in the nets of an inextricable fate!"

  "Oh!" said the slave, with sudden energy, as, clasping her hands, sherose from her couch,--"oh, my lord, would that these humble lips daredutter other words than those of love!"

  "And what wise counsel would they give me?" asked Boabdil with a faintsmile. "Speak on."

  "I will obey thee, then, even if it displease," cried Amine; andshe rose, her cheek glowing, her eyes spark ling, her beautiful formdilated. "I am a daughter of Granada; I am the beloved of a king; I willbe true to my birth and to my fortunes. Boabdil el Chico, the last ofa line of heroes, shake off these gloomy fantasies--these doubts anddreams that smother the fire of a great nature and a kingly soul!Awake--arise--rob Granada of her Muza--be thyself her Muza! Trustestthou to magic and to spells? then grave them on they breastplate, writethem on thy sword, and live no longer the Dreamer of the Alhambra;become the saviour of thy people!"

  Boabdil turned, and gazed on the inspired and beautiful form before himwith mingled emotions of surprise and shame. "Out of the mouth of womancometh my rebuke!" said he sadly. "It is well!"

  "Pardon me, pardon me!" said the slave, falling humbly at his knees;"but blame me not that I would have thee worthy of thyself. Wert thounot happier, was not thy heart more light and thy hope more strong when,at the head of thine armies, thine own cimiter slew thine own foes, andthe terror of the Hero-king spread, in flame and slaughter, from themountains to the seas. Boabdil! dear as thou art to me-equally as Iwould have loved thee hadst thou been born a lowly fisherman of theDarro, since thou art a king, I would have thee die a king; even if myown heart broke as I armed thee for thy latest battle!"

  "Thou knowest not what thou sayest, Amine," said Boabdil, "nor canstthou tell what spirits that are not of earth dictate to the actions andwatch over the destinies, of the rulers of nations. If I delay, if Ilinger, it is not from terror, but from wisdom. The cloud must gatheron, dark and slow, ere the moment for the thunderbolt arrives."

  "On thine own house will the thunderbolt fall, since over thine ownhouse thou sufferest the cloud to gather," said a calm and stern voice.

  Boabdil started; and in the chamber stood a third person, in the shapeof a woman, past middle age, and of commanding port and stature. Uponher long-descending robes of embroidered purple were thickly wovenjewels of royal price, and her dark hair, slightly tinged with grey,parted over a majestic brow while a small diadem surmounted the folds ofthe turban.

  "My mother!" said Boabdil, with some haughty reserve in his tone; "yourpresence is unexpected."

  "Ay," answered Ayxa la Horra, for it was indeed that celebrated, andhaughty, and high-souled queen, "and unwelcome; so is ever that of yourtrue friends. But not thus unwelcome was the presence of your mother,when her brain and her hand delivered you from the dungeon in which yourstern father had cast your youth, and the dagger and the bowl seemed theonly keys that would unlock the cell."

  "And better hadst thou left the ill-omened son that thy womb conceived,to die thus in youth, honoured and lamented, than to live to manhood,wrestling against an evil star and a relentless fate."

  "Son," said the queen, gazing upon him with lofty and half disdainfulcompassion, "men's conduct shapes out their own fortunes, and theunlucky are never the valiant and the wise."

  "Madam," said Boabdil, colouring with passion, "I am still a king, norwill I be thus bearded--withdraw!"

  Ere the queen could reply, a eunuch entered, and whispered Boabdil.

  "Ha!" said he, joyfully, stamping his foot, "comes he then to brave thelion in his den? Let the rebel look to it. Is he alone?"

  "Alone, great king."

  "Bid my guards wait without; let the slightest signal summon them.Amine, retire! Madam--"

  "Son!" interrupted Ayxa la Horra in visible agitation, "do I guessaright? is the brave Muza--the sole bulwark and hope of Granada--whomunjustly thou wouldst last night have placed in chains--(chains! GreatProphet! is it thus a king should reward his heroes)--is, I say, Muzahere? and wilt thou make him the victim of his own generous trust?"

  "Retire, woman?" said Boabdil, sullenly.

  "I will not, save by force! I resisted a fiercer soul than thine when Isaved thee from thy father."

  "Remain, then, if thou wilt, and learn how kings can punish traitors.Mesnour, admit the hero of Granada." Amine had vanished. Boabdil seatedhimself on the cushions his face calm but pale. The queen stood erectat a little distance, her arms folded on her breast, and her aspect knitand resolute. In a few moments Muza entered alone. He approached theking with the profound salutation of oriental obeisance; and then stoodbefore him with downcast eyes, in an attitude from which respect couldnot divorce a natural dignity and pride of mien.

  "Prince," said Boabdil, after a moment's pause, "yestermorn, when Isent for thee thou didst brave my orders. Even in mine own Alhambra thyminions broke out in mutiny; they surrounded the fortress in which thouwert to wait my pleasure; they intercepted, they insulted, they droveback my guards; they stormed the towers protected by the banner ofthy king. The governor, a coward or a traitor, rendered thee to therebellious crowd. Was this all? No, by the Prophet! Thou, by right mycaptive, didst leave thy prison but to head mine armies. And this day,the traitor subject--the secret foe--was the leader of a people who defya king. This night thou comest to me unsought. Thou feelest secure frommy just wrath, even in my palace. Thine insolence blinds and betraysthee. Man, thou art in my power! Ho, there!"

  As the king spoke, he rose; and, presently, the arcades at the back ofthe pavilion were darkened by long lines of the Ethiopian guard, each ofheight which, beside the slight Moorish race, appeared gigantic; stolidand passionless machines, to execute, without thought, the bloodiestor the slightest caprice of despotism. There they stood; their silverbreastplates and long earrings contrasting their dusky skins; andbearing, over their shoulders, immense clubs studded with brazen nails.

  A little advanced from the rest, stood the captain, with the fatalbowstring hanging carelessly on his arm, and his eyes intent to catchthe slightest gesture of the king. "Behold!" said Boabdil to hisprisoner.

  "I do; and am prepared for what I have foreseen." The queen grew pale,but continued silent.

  Muza resumed--

  "Lord of the faithful!" said he, "if yestermorn I had acted otherwise,it would have been to the ruin of thy throne and our common race. Thefierce Zegris suspected and learned my capture. They summoned the troopsthey delivered me, it is true. At that time had I reasoned with them, itwould have been as drops upon a flame. They were bent on besieging thypalace, perhaps upon demanding thy abdication. I could not stifle theirfury, but I could direct it. In the moment of passion, I led them fromrebellion against our common king to victory against our common foe.That duty done, I come unscathed from the sword of the Christian to baremy neck to the bowstring of my friend. Alone, untracked, unsuspected, Ihave entered thy palace to prove to the sovereign of Granada, thatthe defendant of his throne is not a rebel to his will. Now summon theguards--I have done."

  "Muza!" said Boabdil, in a softened voice, while he shaded his face withhis hand, "we played together as children, and I have loved thee well:my kingdom even now, perchance, is passing from
me, but I could almostbe reconciled to that loss, if I thought thy loyalty had not left me."

  "Dost thou, in truth, suspect the faith of Muza Ben Abil Gazan?" saidthe Moorish prince, in a tone of surprise and sorrow. "Unhappy king! Ideemed that my services, and not my defection, made my crime."

  "Why do my people hate me? why do my armies menace?" said Boabdil,evasively; "why should a subject possess that allegiance which a kingcannot obtain?"

  "Because," replied Muza, boldly, "the king has delegated to a subjectthe command he should himself assume. Oh, Boabdil!" he continued,passionately--"friend of my boyhood, ere the evil days came uponus,--gladly would I sink to rest beneath the dark waves of yonder river,if thy arm and brain would fill up my place amongst the warriors ofGranada. And think not I say this only from our boyish love; think notI have placed my life in thy hands only from that servile loyalty to asingle man, which the false chivalry of Christendom imposes as a sacredcreed upon its knights and nobles. But I speak and act but from oneprinciple--to save the religion of, my father and the land of my birth:for this I have risked my life against the foe; for this I surrender mylife to the sovereign of my country. Granada may yet survive, if monarchand people unite together. Granada is lost for ever, if her children, atthis fatal hour, are divided against themselves. If, then, I, O Boabdil!am the true obstacle to thy league with thine own subjects, give me atonce to the bowstring, and my sole prayer shall be for the last remnantof the Moorish name, and the last monarch of the Moorish dynasty."

  "My son, my son! art thou convinced at last?" cried the queen,struggling with her tears; for she was one who wept easily at heroicsentiments, but never at the softer sorrows, or from the more womanlyemotions.

  Boabdil lifted his head with a vain and momentary attempt at pride;his eye glanced from his mother to his friend, and his better feelingsgushed upon him with irresistible force; he threw himself into Muza'sarms.

  "Forgive me," he said, in broken accents, "forgive me! How could I havewronged thee thus? Yes," he continued, as he started from the noblebreast on which for a moment he indulged no ungenerous weakness,--"yes,prince, your example shames, but it fires me. Granada henceforth shallhave two chieftains; and if I be jealous of thee, it shall be from anemulation thou canst not blame. Guards, retire. Mesnour! ho, Mesnour!Proclaim at daybreak that I myself will review the troops in theVivarrambla. Yet"--and, as he spoke his voice faltered, and his browbecame overcast, "yet stay, seek me thyself at daybreak, and I will givethee my commands."

  "Oh, my son! why hesitate?" cried the queen, "why waver? Prosecute thineown kingly designs, and--"

  "Hush, madam," said Boabdil, regaining his customary cold composure;"and since you are now satisfied with your son, leave me alone withMuza."

  The queen sighed heavily; but there was something in the calm of Boabdilwhich chilled and awed her more than his bursts of passion. She drew herveil around her, and passed slowly and reluctantly from the chamber.

  "Muza," said Boabdil, when alone with the prince, and fixing his largeand thoughtful eyes upon the dark orbs of his companion,--"when, inour younger days, we conversed together, do you remember how often thatconverse turned upon those solemn and mysterious themes to which thesages of our ancestral land directed their deepest lore; the enigmasof the stars--the science of fate--the wild searches into theclouded future, which hides the destines of nations and of men? Thourememberest, Muza, that to such studies mine own vicissitudes andsorrows, even in childhood--the strange fortunes which gave me in mycradle the epithet of El Zogoybi--the ominous predictions of santonsand astrologers as to the trials of my earthly fate,--all contributed toincline my soul. Thou didst not despise those earnest musings, nor ourancestral lore, though, unlike me, ever more inclined to action thanto contemplation, that which thou mightest believe had little influenceupon what thou didst design. With me it hath been otherwise; every eventof life hath conspired to feed my early prepossessions; and, in thisawful crisis of my fate, I have placed myself and my throne rather underthe guardianship of spirits than of men. This alone has reconciled me toinaction--to the torpor of the Alhambra--to the mutinies of my people.I have smiled, when foes surround and friends deserted me, secure ofthe aid at last--if I bided but the fortunate hour--of the charms ofprotecting spirits, and the swords of the invisible creation. Thouwonderest what this should lead to. Listen! Two nights since (and theking shuddered) I was with the dead! My father appeared before me--notas I knew him in life--gaunt and terrible, full of the vigour of health,and the strength of kingly empire, and of fierce passion--but wan, calm,shadowy. From lips on which Azrael had set his livid seal, he bade mebeware of thee!"

  The king ceased suddenly; and sought to read on the face of Muza theeffect his words produced. But the proud and swarthy features of theMoor evinced no pang of conscience; a slight smile of pity might havecrossed his lip for a moment, but it vanished ere the king could detectit. Boabdil continued:

  "Under the influence of this warning, I issued the order for thy arrest.Let this pass--I resume my tale. I attempted to throw myself at thespectre's feet--it glided from me, motionless and impalpable. I askedthe Dead One if he forgave his unhappy son the sin of rebellion alas!too well requited even upon earth. And the voice again came forth, andbade me keep the crown that I had gained, as the sole atonement for thepast. Then again I asked, whether the hour for action had arrived! andthe spectre, while it faded gradually into air, answered, 'No!' 'Oh!'I exclaimed, 'ere thou leavest me, be one sign accorded me, that I havenot dreamt this vision; and give me, I pray thee, note and warning,when the evil star of Boabdil shall withhold its influence, and he maystrike, without resistance from the Powers above, for his glory and histhrone.' 'The sign and the warning are bequeathed thee,' answered theghostly image. It vanished,--thick darkness fell around; and, when oncemore the light of the lamps we bore became visible, behold there stoodbefore me a skeleton, in the regal robe of the kings of Granada, andon its grisly head was the imperial diadem. With one hand raised, itpointed to the opposite wall, wherein burned, like an orb of gloomyfire, a broad dial-plate, on which were graven these words, BEWARE--FEARNOT--ARM! The finger of the dial moved rapidly round, and rested at theword beware. From that hour to the one in which I last beheld it, ithath not moved. Muza, the tale is done; wilt thou visit with me thisenchanted chamber, and see if the hour be come?"

  "Commander of the faithful," said Muza, "the story is dread and awful.But pardon thy friend--wert thou alone, or was the santon Almamen thycompanion?"

  "Why the question?" said Boabdil, evasively, and slightly colouring.

  "I fear his truth," answered Muza; "the Christian king conquers morefoes by craft than force; and his spies are more deadly than hiswarriors. Wherefore this caution against me, but (pardon me) for thineown undoing? Were I a traitor, could Ferdinand himself have endangeredthy crown so imminently as the revenge of the leader of thine ownarmies? Why, too, this desire to keep thee inactive? For the brave everyhour hath its chances; but, for us, every hour increases our peril. Ifwe seize not the present time,--our supplies are cut off,--and famine isa foe all our valour cannot resist. This dervise--who is he? a stranger,not of our race and blood. But this morning I found him without thewalls, not far from the Spaniard's camp."

  "Ha!" cried the king, quickly, "and what said he?"

  "Little, but in hints; sheltering himself, by loose hints, under thyname."

  "He! what dared he own?--Muza, what were those hints?"

  The Moor here recounted the interview with Almamen, his detention, hisinactivity in the battle, and his subsequent capture by the Spaniards.The king listened attentively, and regained his composure.

  "It is a strange and awful man," said he after a pause. "Guards andchains will not detain him. Ere long he will return. But thou, at least,Muza, are henceforth free, alike from the suspicion of the livingand the warnings of the dead. No, my friend," continued Boabdil, withgenerous warmth, "it is better to lose a crown, to lose life itself,than confidence in a heart like thine. Come, let
us inspect this magictablet; perchance--and how my heart bounds as I utter the hope!--thehour may have arrived."