Verhalen over het gebouwencomplex in Granada, dat eigendom was van de laatste islamitische vorsten in Spanje.
“‘What’s to be done?’ thought I, when thus left to myself; ‘shall I wait
here until this infidel returns to whisk me off on his goblin steed, the
Lord knows where; or shall I make the most of my time and beat a retreat
from this hobgoblin community?’ A soldier’s mind is soon made up, as
your Excellency well knows. As to the horse, he belonged to an avowed
enemy of the faith and the realm, and was a fair prize according to the
rules of war. So hoisting myself from the crupper into the saddle, I
turned the reins, struck the Moorish stirrups into the sides of the
steed, and put him to make the best of his way out of the passage by
which he had entered. As we scoured by the halls where the Moslem
horsemen sat in motionless battalions, I thought I heard the clang of
armor and a hollow murmur of voices. I gave the steed another taste of
the stirrups and doubled my speed. There was now a sound behind me like
a rushing blast; I heard the clatter of a thousand hoofs; a countless
throng overtook me. I was borne along in the press, and hurled forth
from the mouth of the cavern, while thousands of shadowy forms were
swept off in every direction by the four winds of heaven.
“In the whirl and confusion of the scene I was thrown senseless to the
earth. When I came to myself, I was lying on the brow of a hill, with
the Arabian steed standing beside me; for in falling, my arm had slipped
within the bridle, which, I presume, prevented his whisking off to Old
Castile.
“Your Excellency may easily judge of my surprise, on looking round, to
behold hedges of aloes and Indian figs and other proofs of a southern
climate, and to see a great city below me, with towers, and palaces, and
a grand cathedral.
“I descended the hill cautiously, leading my steed, for I was afraid to
mount him again, lest he should play me some slippery trick. As I
descended I met with your patrol, who let me into the secret that it was
Granada that lay before me, and that I was actually under the walls of
the Alhambra, the fortress of the redoubted Governor Manco, the terror
of all enchanted Moslems. When I heard this, I determined at once to
seek your Excellency, to inform you of all that I had seen, and to warn
you of the perils that surround and undermine you, that you may take
measures in time to guard your fortress, and the kingdom itself, from
this intestine army that lurks in the very bowels of the land.”
“And prithee, friend, you who are a veteran campaigner, and have seen so
much service,” said the governor, “how would you advise me to proceed,
in order to prevent this evil?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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