IHE STORY OF SPAIN.

117

 

of the arch upon the outer side a gigantic
hand is engraved. The opposite side within
bears an equally gigantic key. Tradition
says that the hand and the key are magical
devices upon which the fate of the Alham-
bra depends; that the Moorish King who
built it was a great magician, and by sell-
ing himself to Satan laid the fortress under
a magic spell. For this reason the Alham-
bra has stood all these centuries despite the
hand of the despoiler and war and storm
and earthquake, while many other Moorish
structures have disappeared, and that the

structure will last until the hand reaches

down and grasps the key, when the build-

ing will fall and the Moorish treasures
buried beneath be revealed.

Entering through this gate the transition
is indescribably grand. Surely such splen-
dor, such magnificence is possible only to
the heroes of Arabian Nights, and one un-
consciously expects the advent of those
magicians of boyhood to explain the won-
derful beauty which surrounds him. We
stand within the Court of the Alberca
paved with white marble and decorated at
the ends with light Moorish peristyles. In
the center is an immense basin one hun-
dred and thirty feet long and thirty feet
wide stocked with goldfish, its banks bor-
dered by hedges of roses which encircle it
like a wreath. At the upper end rises the
great tower of Comares.

Ere we penetrate farther into the palace,

 

let us ascend to the summit of this tower
and take a birds-eye view of the palace
and its surroundings. The stairs are steep
and winding and the light isdim. Yet up
these same stairs the proud monarchs of
Granada have climbed to watch the ap-
proach of Christian armies and gaze upon
their many futile onslaughts upon its im-
pregnable walls. As we stand upon the
terraced roof to catch our breath, our eyes
drink in the wonderful scene of beauty.
The city lies below us; the country reaches
to the horizon dotted with mountain, val-
ley and plain, castle and cathedral, Moorish
tower and Gothic dome, crumbling ruin
Below us lies the Al-
hambra; at our feet is the Court of Alberca

and shady grove.

with its rose encircled pool; yonder is the
Court of Lions with its famous fountains;
in the center rests the garden of Lindaraxa
with its wonderful roses and shrubbery of
emerald green, that airy palace with tall
white towers; high up on mountain is the
Generaliffe, or summer palace of the Moors,
where they escape during the sultry months
of summer, while those shapeless ruins far
above upon the summit is the Seat of the
Moors where the unfortunate King Boab-
dil fled during an insurrection and looked
sadly down upon his rebel subjects. In
the distance, at the foot of yonder hill, is an
old Moorish mill; the stately avenue be-
yond is the Alameda where lovers resort at

eventide and where the guitar makes sweet