part01-第3章

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commonplace；　but　give　me　the　rude　mountain　scramble；　the　roving；

haphazard；　wayfaring；　the　half　wild；　yet　frank　and　hospitable　manners；

which　impart　such　a　true　game　flavor　to　dear　old　romantic　Spain！

　　Thus　equipped　and　attended；　we　cantered　out　of　〃Fair　Seville　city〃

at　half…past　six　in　the　morning　of　a　bright　May　day；　in　company　with　a

lady　and　gentleman　of　our　acquaintance；　who　rode　a　few　miles　with

us；　in　the　Spanish　mode　of　taking　leave。　Our　route　lay　through　old

Alcala　de　Guadaira　（Alcala　on　the　river　Aira）；　the　benefactress　of

Seville；　that　supplies　it　with　bread　and　water。　Here　live　the　bakers

who　furnish　Seville　with　that　delicious　bread　for　which　it　is

renowned；　here　are　fabricated　those　roscas　well　known　by　the

well…merited　appellation　of　pan　de　Dios　（bread　of　God）；　with　which；　by

the　way；　we　ordered　our　man；　Sancho；　to　stock　his　alforjas　for　the

journey。　Well　has　this　beneficent　little　city　been　denominated　the

〃Oven　of　Seville〃；　well　has　it　been　called　Alcala　de　los　Panaderos

（Alcala　of　the　bakers）；　for　a　great　part　of　its　inhabitants　are　of

that　handicraft；　and　the　highway　hence　to　Seville　is　constantly

traversed　by　lines　of　mules　and　donkeys　laden　with　great　panniers　of

loaves　and　roscas。

　　I　have　said　Alcala　supplies　Seville　with　water。　Here　are　great　tanks

or　reservoirs；　of　Roman　and　Moorish　construction；　whence　water　is

conveyed　to　Seville　by　noble　aqueducts。　The　springs　of　Alcala　are

almost　as　much　vaunted　as　its　ovens；　and　to　the　lightness；

sweetness；　and　purity　of　its　water　is　attributed　in　some　measure　the

delicacy　of　its　bread。

　　Here　we　halted　for　a　time；　at　the　ruins　of　the　old　Moorish　castle；　a

favorite　resort　for　picnic　parties　from　Seville；　where　we　had　passed

many　a　pleasant　hour。　The　walls　are　of　great　extent；　pierced　with

loopholes；　inclosing　a　huge　square　tower　or　keep；　with　the　remains

of　masmoras；　or　subterranean　granaries。　The　Guadaira　winds　its

stream　round　the　hill；　at　the　foot　of　these　ruins；　whimpering　among

reeds；　rushes；　and　pond…lilies；　and　overhung　with　rhododendron；

eglantine；　yellow　myrtle；　and　a　profusion　of　wild　flowers　and　aromatic

shrubs；　while　along　its　banks　are　groves　of　oranges；　citrons；　and

pomegranates；　among　which　we　heard　the　early　note　of　the　nightingale。

　　A　picturesque　bridge　was　thrown　across　the　little　river；　at　one

end　of　which　was　the　ancient　Moorish　mill　of　the　castle；　defended　by　a

tower　of　yellow　stone；　a　fisherman's　net　hung　against　the　wall　to　dry；

and　hard　by　in　the　river　was　his　boat；　a　group　of　peasant　women　in

bright…colored　dresses；　crossing　the　arched　bridge；　were　reflected

in　the　placid　stream。　Altogether　it　was　an　admirable　scene　for　a

landscape　painter。

　　The　old　Moorish　mills；　so　often　found　on　secluded　streams；　are

characteristic　objects　in　Spanish　landscape；　and　suggestive　of　the

perilous　times　of　old。　They　are　of　stone；　and　often　in　the　form　of

towers　with　loopholes　and　battlements；　capable　of　defence　in　those

warlike　days　when　the　country　on　both　sides　of　the　border　was

subject　to　sudden　inroad　and　hasty　ravage；　and　when　men　had　to　labor

with　their　weapons　at　hand；　and　some　place　of　temporary　refuge。

　　Our　next　halting　place　was　at　Gandul；　where　were　the　remains　of

another　Moorish　castle；　with　its　ruined　tower；　a　nestling　place　for

storks；　and　commanding　a　view　over　a　vast　campina　or　fertile　plain；

with　the　mountains　of　Ronda　in　the　distance。　These　castles　were

strong…holds　to　protect　the　plains　from　the　talas　or　forays　to　which

they　were　subject；　when　the　fields　of　corn　would　be　laid　waste；　the

flocks　and　herds　swept　from　the　vast　pastures；　and；　together　with

captive　peasantry；　hurried　off　in　long　cavalgadas　across　the　borders。

　　At　Gandul　we　found　a　tolerable　posada；　the　good　folks　could　not　tell

us　what　time　of　day　it　was…　the　clock　only　struck　once　in　the　day；　two

hours　after　noon；　until　that　time　it　was　guesswork。　We　guessed　it

was　full　time　to　eat；　so；　alighting；　we　ordered　a　repast。　While　that

was　in　preparation　we　visited　the　palace　once　the　residence　of　the

Marquis　of　Gandul。　All　was　gone　to　decay；　there　were　but　two　or

three　rooms　habitable；　and　very　poorly　furnished。　Yet　here　were　the

remains　of　grandeur：　a　terrace；　where　fair　dames　and　gentle

cavaliers　may　once　have　walked；　a　fish…pond　and　ruined　garden；　with

grape…vines　and　date…bearing　palm…trees。　Here　we　were　joined　by　a

fat　curate；　who　gathered　a　bouquet　of　roses　and　presented　it；　very

gallantly；　to　the　lady　who　accompanied　us。

　　Below　the　palace　was　the　mill；　with　orange…trees　and　aloes　in　front；

and　a　pretty　stream　of　pure　water。　We　took　a　seat　in　the　shade；　and

the　millers；　all　leaving　their　work；　sat　down　and　smoked　with　us；

for　the　Andalusians　are　always　ready　for　a　gossip。　They　were　waiting

for　the　regular　visit　of　the　barber；　who　came　once　a　week　to　put　all

their　chins　in　order。　He　arrived　shortly　afterwards：　a　lad　of

seventeen；　mounted　on　a　donkey；　eager　to　display　his　new　alforjas　or

saddle…bags；　just　bought　at　a　fair；　price　one　dollar；　to　be　paid　on

St。　John's　day　（in　June）；　by　which　time　he　trusted　to　have　mown　beards

enough　to　put　him　in　funds。

　　By　the　time　the　laconic　clock　of　the　castle　had　struck　two　we　had

finished　our　dinner。　So；　taking　leave　of　our　Seville　friends；　and

leaving　the　millers　still　under　the　hands　of　the　barber；　we　set　off　on

our　ride　across　the　campina。　It　was　one　of　those　vast　plains；　common

in　Spain；　where　for　miles　and　miles　there　is　neither　house　nor　tree。

Unlucky　the　traveller　who　has　to　traverse　it；　exposed　as　we　were　to

heavy　and　repeated　showers　of　rain。　There　is　no　escape　nor　shelter。

Our　only　protection　was　our　Spanish　cloaks；　which　nearly　covered　man

and　horse；　but　grew　heavier　every　mile。　By　the　time　we　had　lived

through　one　shower　we　would　see　another　slowly　but　inevitably

approaching；　fortunately　in　the　interval　there　would　be　an　outbreak　of

bright；　warm；　Andalusian　sunshine；　which　would　make　our　cloaks　send　up

wreaths　of　steam；　but　which　partially　dried　them　before　the　next

drenching。

　　Shortly　after　sunset　we　arrived　at　Arahal；　a　little　town　among　the

hills。　We　found　it　in　a　bustle　with　a　party　of　miquelets；　who　were

patrolling　the　country　to　ferret　out　robbers。　The　appearance　of

foreigners　like　ourselves　was　an　unusual　circumstance　in　an　interior

country　town；　and　little　Spanish　towns　of　the　kind　are　easily　put　in　a

state　of　gossip　and　wonderment　by　such　an　occurrence。　Mine　host；

with　two　or　three　old　wiseacre　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

perplexed　them；　but　our　Squire　Sancho　assisted　them　in　their

studies；　and　magnified　our　importance　with　the　grandiloquence　of　a

Spaniard。　In　the　mean　time　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　himself　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；　senores；　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　assured　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　frie