"You know not what you possess," cried he to the
innkeeper and his wife. "You have a treasure in your house. Behold
in this young gentleman the eighth wonder of the world- nothing in
this house is too good for Senor Gil Blas of Santillane, who
deserves to be entertained like a prince."
Determined that the little notary should not eat trouts at our
expense, like his prototype of Pennaflor, we forbore to ask him to
supper; nor had we reason to reproach ourselves with ingratitude;
for we found before morning the little varlet, who was no doubt a good
friend of the landlord, had decoyed us into one of the shabbiest
posadas in Granada.
Palace of the Alhambra.
TO THE traveller imbued with a feeling for the historical and
poetical, so inseparably intertwined in the annals of romantic
Spain, the Alhambra is as much an object of devotion as is the Caaba
to all true Moslems. How many legends and traditions, true and
fabulous; how many songs and ballads, Arabian and Spanish, of love and
war and chivalry, are associated with this oriental pile! It was the
royal abode of the Moorish kings, where, surrounded with the splendors
and refinements of Asiatic luxury, they held dominion over what they
vaunted as a terrestrial paradise, and made their last stand for
empire in Spain. The royal palace forms but a part of a fortress,
the walls of which, studded with towers, stretch irregularly round the
whole crest of a hill, a spur of the Sierra Nevada or Snowy Mountains,
and overlook the city; externally it is a rude congregation of
towers and battlements, with no regularity of plan nor grace of
architecture, and giving little promise of the grace and beauty
which prevail within.
Pages:
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54