The Bible in Spain: Or, the Journeys, Adventures, and Imprisonments of an Englishman, in an Attempt to Circulate the Scriptures in the PeninsulaBorrow, George
Religion
The Bible in Spain: Or, the Journeys, Adventures, and Imprisonments of an Englishman, in an Attempt to Circulate the Scriptures in the Peninsula
Borrow, George
Borrow, George, 1803-1881 -- Travel -- Spain; Spain -- Description and travel; Spain -- History -- 19th century
The Moors of Barbary seem to care but little for the exploits of their
ancestors: their minds are centred in the things of the present day, and
only so far as those things regard themselves individually.
Disinterested enthusiasm, that truly distinguishing mark of a noble mind,
and admiration for what is great, good, and grand, they appear to be
totally incapable of feeling. It is astonishing with what indifference
they stray amongst the relics of ancient Moorish grandeur in Spain. No
feelings of exultation seem to be excited by the proof of what the Moor
once was, nor of regret at the consciousness of what he now is. More
interesting to them are their perfumes, their papouches, their dates, and
their silks of Fez and Maraks, to dispose of which they visit Andalusia;
and yet the generality of these men are far from being ignorant, and have
both heard and read of what was passing in Spain in the old time. I was
once conversing with a Moor at Madrid, with whom I was very intimate,
about the Alhambra of Granada, which he had visited. “Did you not weep,”
said I, “when you passed through the courts, and thought of the,
Abencerrages?” “No,” said he, “I did not weep; wherefore should I weep?”
“And why did you visit the Alhambra?” I demanded. “I visited it,” he
replied, “because being at Granada on my own affairs, one of your
countrymen requested me to accompany him thither, that I might explain
some of the inscriptions. I should certainly not have gone of my own
accord, for the hill on which it stands is steep.” And yet this man
could compose verses, and was by no means a contemptible poet. Once at
Cordova, whilst I was in the cathedral, three Moors entered it, and
proceeded slowly across its floor in the direction of a gate, which stood
at the opposite side; they took no farther notice of what was around them
than by slightly glancing once or twice at the pillars, one of them
exclaiming, “_Huaije del Mselmeen_, _huaije del Mselmeen_” (things of the
Moors, things of the Moors); and showed no other respect for the place
where Abderrahman the Magnificent prostrated himself of old, than facing
about on arriving at the farther door and making their egress backwards;
yet these men were hajis and talebs, men likewise of much gold and
silver, men who had read, who had travelled, who had seen Mecca, and the
great city of Negroland.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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