This was all filled with Moorish soldiery, horse and foot,
marshalled in squadrons, with banners displayed. There were royal
guards also at the portal, and rows of African blacks with drawn
cimeters. No one spoke a word, and Sanchica passed on fearlessly after
her conductor. Her astonishment increased on entering the royal
palace, in which she had been reared. The broad moonshine lit up all
the halls and courts and gardens almost as brightly as if it were day,
but revealed a far different scene from that to which she was
accustomed. The walls of the apartments were no longer stained and
rent by time. Instead of cobwebs, they were now hung with rich silks
of Damascus, and the gildings and arabesque paintings were restored to
their original brilliancy and freshness. The halls, no longer naked
and unfurnished, were set out with divans and ottomans of the rarest
stuffs, embroidered with pearls and studded with precious gems, and
all the fountains in the courts and gardens were playing.
The kitchens were again in full operation; cooks were busy preparing
shadowy dishes, and roasting and boiling the phantoms of pullets and
partridges: servants were hurrying to and fro with silver dishes
heaped up with dainties, and arranging a delicious banquet. The
Court of Lions was thronged with guards, and courtiers, and
alfaquis, as in the old times of the Moors; and at the upper end, in
the saloon of judgment, sat Boabdil on his throne, surrounded by his
court, and swaying a shadowy sceptre for the night.
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