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.
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