Verhalen over het gebouwencomplex in Granada, dat eigendom was van de laatste islamitische vorsten in Spanje.
Everybody has heard of the Cave of St. Cyprian at Salamanca, where in
old times judicial astronomy, necromancy, chiromancy, and other dark and
damnable arts were secretly taught by an ancient sacristan; or, as some
will have it, by the devil himself, in that disguise. The cave has long
been shut up and the very site of it forgotten; though, according to
tradition, the entrance was somewhere about where the stone cross stands
in the small square of the seminary of Carvajal; and this tradition
appears in some degree corroborated by the circumstances of the
following story.
There was at one time a student of Salamanca, Don Vicente by name, of
that merry but mendicant class, who set out on the road to learning
without a penny in pouch for the journey, and who, during college
vacations, beg from town to town and village to village to raise funds
to enable them to pursue their studies through the ensuing term. He was
now about to set forth on his wanderings; and being somewhat musical,
slung on his back a guitar with which to amuse the villagers, and pay
for a meal or a night’s lodgings.
As he passed by the stone cross in the seminary square, he pulled off
his hat and made a short invocation to St. Cyprian, for good luck; when
casting his eyes upon the earth, he perceived something glitter at the
foot of the cross. On picking it up, it proved to be a seal-ring of
mixed metal, in which gold and silver appeared to be blended. The seal
bore as a device two triangles crossing each other, so as to form a
star. This device is said to be a cabalistic sign, invented by King
Solomon the Wise, and of mighty power in all cases of enchantment; but
the honest student, being neither sage nor conjurer, knew nothing of the
matter. He took the ring as a present from St. Cyprian in reward of his
prayer; slipped it on his finger, made a bow to the cross, and strumming
his guitar, set off merrily on his wandering.
The life of a mendicant student in Spain is not the most miserable in
the world; especially if he has any talent at making himself agreeable.
He rambles at large from village to village, and city to city,
where-ever curiosity or caprice may conduct him. The country curates,
who, for the most part, have been mendicant students in their time, give
him shelter for the night, and a comfortable meal, and often enrich him
with several quartos, or halfpence in the morning. As he presents
himself from door to door in the streets of the cities, he meets with no
harsh rebuff, no chilling contempt, for there is no disgrace attending
his mendicity, many of the most learned men in Spain having commenced
their career in this manner; but if, like the student in question, he is
a good-looking varlet and a merry companion; and, above all, if he can
play the guitar, he is sure of a hearty welcome among the peasants, and
smiles and favors from their wives and daughters.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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