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小说: part08 字数: 每页3500字

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spinsters。 She had a becoming terror and distrust of what she

denominated 〃the opposite sex;〃 which had gradually increased

through a long life of celibacy。 Not that the good lady had ever

suffered from their wiles; nature having set up a safeguard in her

face that forbade all trespass upon her premises; but ladies who

have least cause to fear for themselves are most ready to keep a watch

over their more tempting neighbors。

  The niece was the orphan of an officer who had fallen in the wars。

She had been educated in a convent; and had recently been

transferred from her sacred asylum to the immediate guardianship of

her aunt; under whose overshadowing care she vegetated in obscurity;

like an opening rose blooming beneath a brier。 Nor indeed is this

comparison entirely accidental; for; to tell the truth; her fresh

and dawning beauty had caught the public eye; even in her seclusion;

and; with that poetical turn common to the people of Andalusia; the

peasantry of the neighborhood had given her the appellation of 〃the

Rose of the Alhambra。〃

  The wary aunt continued to keep a faithful watch over her tempting

little niece as long as the court continued at Granada; and

flattered herself that her vigilance had been successful。 It is

true; the good lady was now and then discomposed by the tinkling of

guitars and chanting of love ditties from the moonlit groves beneath

the tower; but she would exhort her niece to shut her ears against

such idle minstrelsy; assuring her that it was one of the arts of

the opposite sex; by which simple maids were often lured to their

undoing。 Alas! what chance with a simple maid has a dry lecture

against a moonlight serenade?

  At length King Philip cut short his sojourn at Granada; and suddenly

departed with all his train。 The vigilant Fredegonda watched the royal

pageant as it issued forth from the Gate of Justice; and descended the

great avenue leading to the city。 When the last banner disappeared

from her sight; she returned exulting to her tower; for all her

cares were over。 To her surprise; a light Arabian steed pawed the

ground at the wicket…gate of the garden… to her horror; she saw

through the thickets of roses a youth; in gayly…embroidered dress;

at the feet of her niece。 At the sound of her footsteps he gave a

tender adieu; bounded lightly over the barrier of reeds and myrtles;

sprang upon his horse; and was out of sight in an instant。

  The tender Jacinta; in the agony of her grief; lost all thought of

her aunt's displeasure。 Throwing herself into her arms; she broke

forth into sobs and tears。

  〃Ay de mi!〃 cried she; 〃he's gone!… he's gone!… he's gone! and I

shall never see him more!〃

  〃Gone!… who is gone?… what youth is that I saw at your feet?〃

  〃A queen's page; aunt; who came to bid me farewell。〃

  〃A queen's page; child!〃 echoed the vigilant Fredegonda; faintly;

〃and when did you become acquainted with the queen's page?〃

  〃The morning that the gerfalcon came into the tower。 It was the

queen's gerfalcon; and he came in pursuit of it。〃

  〃Ah silly; silly girl! know that there are no gerfalcons half so

dangerous as these young prankling pages; and it is precisely such

simple birds as thee that they pounce upon。〃

  The aunt was at first indignant at learning that in despite of her

boasted vigilance; a tender intercourse had been carried on by the

youthful lovers; almost beneath her eye; but when she found that her

simple…hearted niece; though thus exposed; without the protection of

bolt or bar; to all the machinations of the opposite sex; had come

forth unsinged from the fiery ordeal; she consoled herself with the

persuasion that it was owing to the chaste and cautious maxims in

which she had; as it were; steeped her to the very lips。

  While the aunt laid this soothing unction to her pride; the niece

treasured up the oft…repeated vows of fidelity of the page。 But what

is the love of restless; roving man? A vagrant stream that dallies for

a time with each flower upon its bank; then passes on; and leaves them

all in tears。

  Days; weeks; months elapsed; and nothing more was heard of the page。

The pomegranate ripened; the vine yielded up its fruit; the autumnal

rains descended in torrents from the mountains; the Sierra Nevada

became covered with a snowy mantle; and wintry blasts howled through

the halls of the Alhambra… still he came not。 The winter passed

away。 Again the genial spring burst forth with song and blossom and

balmy zephyr; the snows melted from the mountains; until none remained

but on the lofty summit of Nevada; glistening through the sultry

summer air。 Still nothing was heard of the forgetful page。

  In the mean time; the poor little Jacinta grew pale and

thoughtful。 Her former occupations and amusements were abandoned;

her silk lay entangled; her guitar unstrung; her flowers were

neglected; the notes of her bird unheeded; and her eyes; once so

bright; were dimmed with secret weeping。 If any solitude could be

devised to foster the passion of a love…lorn damsel; it would be

such a place as the Alhambra; where every thing seems disposed to

produce tender and romantic reveries。 It is a very paradise for

lovers: how hard then to be alone in such a paradise… and not merely

alone; but forsaken!

  〃Alas; silly child!〃 would the staid and immaculate Fredegonda

say; when she found her niece in one of her desponding moods… 〃did I

not warn thee against the wiles and deceptions of these men? What

couldst thou expect; too; from one of a haughty and aspiring family…

thou an orphan; the descendant of a fallen and impoverished line? Be

assured; if the youth were true; his father; who is one of the

proudest nobles about the court; would prohibit his union with one

so humble and portionless as thou。 Pluck up thy resolution; therefore;

and drive these idle notions from thy mind。〃

  The words of the immaculate Fredegonda only served to increase the

melancholy of her niece; but she sought to indulge it in private。 At a

late hour one midsummer night; after her aunt had retired to rest; she

remained alone in the hall of the tower; seated beside the alabaster

fountain。 It was here that the faithless page had first knelt and

kissed her hand; it was here that he had often vowed eternal fidelity。

The poor little damsel's heart was overladen with sad and tender

recollections; her tears began to flow; and slowly fell drop by drop

into the fountain。 By degrees the crystal water became agitated;

and… bubble… bubble… bubble… boiled up and was tossed about; until a

female figure; richly clad in Moorish robes; slowly rose to view。

  Jacinta was so frightened that she fled from the hall; and did not

venture to return。 The next morning she related what she had seen to

her aunt; but the good lady treated it as a phantasy of her troubled

mind; or supposed she had fallen asleep and dreamt beside the

fountain。 〃Thou hast been thinking of the story of the three Moorish

princesses that once inhabited this tower;〃 continued she; 〃and it has

entered into thy dreams。〃

  〃What story; aunt? I know nothing of it。〃

  〃Thou hast certainly heard of the three princesses; Zayda;

Zorayda; and Zorahayda; who were confined in this tower by the king

their father; and agreed to fly with three Christian cavaliers。 The

two first accomplished their escape; but the third failed in her

resolution; and; it is said; died in this tower。〃

  〃I now recollect to have heard of it;〃 said Jacinta; 〃and to have

wept over the fate of the gentle Zorahayda。〃

  〃Thou mayest well weep over her fate;〃 continued the aunt; 〃for

the lover of Zorahayda was thy ancestor。 He long bemoaned his

Moorish love; but time cured him of his grief; and he married a

Spanish lady; from whom thou art descended。〃

  Jacinta ruminated upon these words。 〃That what I have seen is no

phantasy of the brain;〃 said she to herself; 〃I am confident。 If

indeed it be the spirit of the gentle Zorahayda; which I have heard

lingers about this tower; of what should I be afraid? I'll watch by

the fountain to…night… perhaps the visit will be repeated。〃

  Towards midnight; when every thing was quiet; she again took her

seat in the hall。 As the bell in the distant watchtower of the

Alhambra struck the midnight hour; the fountain was again agitated;

and bubble… bubble… bubble… it tossed about the waters until the

Moorish female again rose to view。 She was young and beautiful; her

dress was rich with jewels; and in her hand she held a silver lute。

Jacinta trembled and was faint; but was reassured by the soft and

plaintive voice of the apparition; and the sweet expression of her

pale; melancholy countenance。

  〃Daughter of mortality;〃 said she; 〃what aileth thee? Why do thy

tears trouble my fountain; and thy sighs and plaints disturb the quiet

watches of the night?〃

  〃I weep because of the faithlessness of man; and I bemoan my

solitary and forsaken state。〃

  〃Take comfort; thy sorrows may yet have an end。 Thou beholdest a

Moorish princess; who; like thee; was unhappy in her love。 A Christian

knight; thy ancestor; won my heart; and would have borne me to his

native land and to the bosom of his church。 I was a convert in my

heart; but I lacked courage equal to my faith; and lingered till too

late。 For this the evil genii are permitted to have power over me; and

I remain enchanted in this tower until some pure Christian will

deign to break the magic spell。 Wilt thou undertake the task?〃

  〃I will;〃 replied the damsel; trembling。

  〃Come hither then; and fear not; dip thy hand in the fountain;

sprinkle the water over me; and baptize me after the manner of thy

faith; so shall the enchantment be dispelled; and my troubled spirit

have repose。〃

  The damsel advanced with faltering steps; dipped her hand in the

fountain; collected water in the palm; and sprinkled it over the

pale face of the phantom。

  The latter smiled with ineffable benignity。 She dropped her silver

lute at the feet of Jacinta; crossed her white arms upon her bosom;

and melted from sight; so that it seemed merely as if a shower of

dew…drops had fallen into the fountain。

  Jacinta retired from the hall filled with awe and wonder。 She

scarcely closed her eyes that night; but when she awoke at daybreak

out of a troubled slumber; the whole appeared to her like a

distempered dream。 On descending into the hall; however; the truth

of the vision was established; for; beside the fountain; she beheld

the silver lute glittering in the morning sunshine。

  She hastened to her aunt; to relate all that had befallen her; and

called her to behold the lute as a testimonial of the reality of her

story。 If the good lady had any lingering doubts; they were removed

when Jacinta touched the instrument; for she drew forth such ravishing

tones as to thaw even the frigid bosom of the immaculate Fredegonda;

that region of eternal winter; into a genial flow。 Nothing but

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