"Ha!" cried Almamen, for it was indeed the Israelite; "by thy black
charger, and the tone of thy haughty voice, I know the hero of Granada.
Rather, Muza Ben Abil Gazan, why art thou absent from the last hold of
the Moorish empire?"
"Dost thou pretend to read the future, and art thou blind to the present?
Granada has capitulated to the Spaniard. Alone I have left a land of
slaves, and shall seek, in our ancestral Africa, some spot where the
footstep of the misbeliever hath not trodden."
"The fate of one bigotry is, then, sealed," said Almamen, gloomily; "but
that which succeeds it is yet more dark."
"Dog!" cried Muza, couching his lance, "what art thou that thus
blasphemest?"
"A Jew!" replied Almamen, in a voice of thunder, and drawing his cimiter:
"a despised and despising Jew! Ask you more? I am the son of a race of
kings. I was the worst enemy of the Moors till I found the Nazarene more
hateful than the Moslem; and then even Muza himself was not their more
renowned champion. Come on, if thou wilt--man to man: I defy thee"
"No, no," muttered Muza, sinking his lance; "thy mail is rusted with the
blood of the Spaniard, and this arm cannot smite the slayer of the
Christian. Part we in peace."
"Hold, prince!" said Almamen, in an altered voice: "is thy country the
sole thing dear to thee? Has the smile of woman never stolen beneath
thine armour? Has thy heart never beat for softer meetings than the
encounter of a foe?"
"Am I human, and a Moor?" returned Muza. "For once you divine aright;
and, could thy spells bestow on these eyes but one more sight of the last
treasure left to me on earth, I should be as credulous of thy sorcery as
Boabdil."
"Thou lovest her still, then--this Leila?"
"Dark necromancer, hast thou read my secret? and knowest thou the name of
my beloved one? Ah! let me believe thee indeed wise, and reveal to me
the spot of earth which holds the delight of my soul! Yes," continued
the Moor, with increased emotion, and throwing up his vizor, as if for
air--"yes; Allah forgive me! but, when all was lost at Granada, I had
still one consolation in leaving my fated birthplace: I had licence to
search for Leila; I had the hope to secure to my wanderings in distant
lands one to whose glance the eyes of the houris would be dim. But I
waste words. Tell me where is Leila, and conduct me to her feet!"
"Moslem, I will lead thee to her," answered Almamen, gazing on the prince
with an expression of strange and fearful exultation in his dark eyes: "I
will lead thee to her-follow me. It is only yesternight that I learned
the walls that confined her; and from that hour to this have I journeyed
over mountain and desert, without rest or food."
"Yet what is she to thee?" asked Muza, suspiciously.
"Thou shalt learn full soon. Let us on."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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