In this way, then, did our ragged and musical son of learning make
his way over half the kingdom, with the fixed determination to visit
the famous city of Granada before his return. Sometimes he was
gathered for the night into the fold of some village pastor; sometimes
he was sheltered under the humble but hospitable roof of the
peasant. Seated at the cottage door with his guitar, he delighted
the simple folk with his ditties, or striking up a fandango or bolero,
set the brown country lads and lasses dancing in the mellow
twilight. In the morning he departed with kind words from host and
hostess, and kind looks and, peradventure, a squeeze of the hand
from the daughter.
At length he arrived at the great object of his musical
vagabondizing, the far-famed city of Granada, and hailed with wonder
and delight its Moorish towers, its lovely Vega and its snowy
mountains glistering through a summer atmosphere. It is needless to
say with what eager curiosity he entered its gates and wandered
through its streets, and gazed upon its oriental monuments. Every
female face peering through a window or beaming from a balcony was
to him a Zorayda or a Zelinda, nor could he meet a stately dame on the
Alameda but he was ready to fancy her a Moorish princess, and to
spread his student's robe beneath her feet.
His musical talent, his happy humor, his youth and his good looks,
won him a universal welcome in spite of his ragged robes, and for
several days he led a gay life in the old Moorish capital and its
environs.
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