[121] An accurate idea of all the romances of this class may be derived from the _Historia de los Vandos de los Zegris y Abencerrages, Caballeros Moros de Granada_, a work well known to those who are acquainted with Spanish literature. It has been several times printed. The edition which I have now before me (Lisboa 1616,) seems to be one of the latest. On the title page the author styles himself, Ginez Perez de Hita, and on that page also appear the words, _Aora nuevamente sacado de un libro Arabigo_. The German critic Blankenburgh, is of opinion, that there is no more reason for supposing this work to be a translation from the Arabic, than that Don Quixote was derived from a similar source. But the word _sacado_ on the title page, by no means indicates that it is a translation. The author has evidently derived much of his information, such for instance, as the genealogical register of the families, from Moorish sources. He has probably availed himself of an Arabic work to write a half true and half fabulous history of Granada, and to intersperse it with favourite romances. There is a counterfeit edition of this work, entitled, _Historia de las guerras civiles de Granada, Paris_, 1660. From the French words on the margin, it is obvious that the book must have been used in Paris in the seventeenth century, for learning the Spanish language. [122] It will be sufficient to transcribe here one of these pastoral romances, which presents a fair specimen of the better part of the rest. Olvidada del sucesso, del engañado Narciso, mirando està en una fuente Filis su rostro divino, el negro cabello suelto, al ayre vano esparzido, ceñida la blanca frente con un liston amarillo. Mira los hermosos ojos, y el labio en sangre teñido de los cristalinos dientes adornado y ofendido: no se mira el bello rostro, por presuncion que ha tenido, mas porque le mueve a ello el desprecio de su amigo. Hala dexado el cruel, sin averlo merecido, por quien vale menos que ella, y es della menos querido. Pareciole que enturbiava con las perlas que ha vertido las corrientes amorosas, y solloçando, les dixo: Turbias van las aguas madre, turbias van, mas ellas se aclararàn. Si el agua de mi alegria enturbia la de mis ojos, y le ofrecen mis despojos al alma en mi fantasia, sospechas son, que algun dia tiempo y amor desharan. Turbias van las aguas madre, turbias van, mas ellas se aclararàn. Si fatiga el pensamiento, y se enturbia la memoria, juntar la passada gloria con el presente tormento, si esparzidos por el viento mis tristes suspiros van. Turbias van las aguas madre turbias van, mas ellas se aclararàn.