part08-第3章

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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　for

lovers：　how　hard　then　to　be　alone　in　such　a　paradise…　and　not　merely

alone；　but　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　impoverished　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　portionless　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　related　what　she　had　seen　to

her　aunt；　but　the　good　lady　treated　it　as　a　phantasy　of　her　troubled

mind；　or　supposed　she　had　fallen　asleep　and　dreamt　beside　the

fountain。　〃Thou　hast　been　thinking　of　the　story　of　the　three　Moorish

princesses　that　once　inhabited　this　tower；〃　continued　she；　〃and　it　has

entered　into　thy　dreams。〃

　　〃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　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　Zorahayda。〃

　　〃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

phantasy　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　repeated。〃

　　Towards　midnight；　when　every　thing　was　quiet；　she　again　took　her

seat　in　the　hall。　As　the　bell　in　the　distant　watchtower　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　reassured　by　the　soft　and

plaintive　voice　of　the　apparition；　and　the　sweet　expression　of　her

pale；　melancholy　countenance。

　　〃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　bemoan　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　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　dispelled；　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　established；　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；　and

called　her　to　behold　the　lute　as　a　testimonial　of　the　reality　of　her

story。　If　the　good　lady　had　any　lingering　doubts；　they　were　removed

when　Jacinta　touched　the　instrument；　for　she　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　neighboring　trees；　and　hushing　their　own　strains；　listened　in

charmed　silence。

　　Rumor　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。

　　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　honor　to　her；　or　rather；　who　should　secure　the　charms

of　her　lute　to　draw　fashionable　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

hypochondriac；　and　subject　to　all　kinds　of　fancies。　Sometimes　he　would

keep　to　his　bed　for　weeks　together；　groaning　under　imaginary

complaints。　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　splendors　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　power　of　music；　the　queen