The very
light falls tenderly from above, through the lantern of a dome
tinted and wrought as if by fairy hands. Through the ample and fretted
arch of the portal I behold the Court of Lions, with brilliant
sunshine gleaming along its colonnades, and sparkling in its
fountains. The lively swallow dives into the court and, rising with
a surge, darts away twittering over the roofs; the busy bee toils
humming among the flower beds, and painted butterflies hover from
plant to plant, and flutter up and sport with each other in the
sunny air. It needs but a slight exertion of the fancy to picture some
pensive beauty of the harem, loitering in these secluded haunts of
Oriental luxury.
He, however, who would behold this scene under an aspect more in
unison with its fortunes, let him come when the shadows of evening
temper the brightness of the court, and throw a gloom into surrounding
halls. Then nothing can be more serenely melancholy, or more in
harmony with the tale of departed grandeur.
At such times I am apt to seek the Hall of Justice, whose deep
shadowy arcades extend across the upper end of the court. Here was
performed, in presence of Ferdinand and Isabella, and their triumphant
court, the pompous ceremonial of high mass, on taking possession of
the Alhambra. The very cross is still to be seen upon the wall,
where the altar was erected, and where officiated the Grand Cardinal
of Spain, and others of the highest religious dignitaries of the land.
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