o, indeed, had led too unsettled a life to be
particular about the place of his residence; and it was determined,
that, as soon as Antonio's health was perfectly restored, they should
abandon the tower, and seek the delicious neighbourhood of Valentia.[9]

[Footnote 9: Here are the strongest silks, the sweetest wines, the
excellent'st almonds, the best oyls, and beautifull'st females of all
Spain. The very bruit animals make themselves beds of rosemary, and
other fragrant flowers hereabouts; and when one is at sea, if the
winde blow from the shore, he may smell this soyl before he comes in
sight of it, many leagues off, by the strong odoriferous scent it
casts. As it is the most pleasant, so it is also the temperat'st clime
of all Spain, and they commonly call it the second Italy; which made
the Moors, whereof many thousands were disterr'd, and banish'd hence
to Barbary, to think that Paradise was in that part of the heavens
which hung over this citie.--HOWELL'S _Letters_.]

To recruit his strength, the student suspended his toils in the
laboratory, and spent the few remaining days, before departure, in
taking a farewell look at the enchanting environs of Granada. He felt
returning health and vigour, as he inhaled the pure temperate breezes
that play about its hills; and the happy state of his mind contributed
to his rapid recovery. Inez was often the companion of his walks. Her
descent, by the mother's side, from one of the ancient Moorish
families, gave her an interest in this once favourite seat of Arabian
power. She gazed with enthusiasm upon its magnificent monuments, and
her memory was filled with the traditional tales and ballads of
Moorish chivalry. Indeed, the solitary life she had led, and the
visionary turn of her father's mind, had produced an effect upon her
character, and given it a tinge of what, in modern days, would be
termed romance. All this was called into full force by this new
passage; for, when a woman first begins to love, life is all romance
to her.

In one of their evening strolls, they had ascended to the mountain of
the Sun, where is situated the Generaliffe, the palace of pleasure, in
the days of Moorish dominion, but now a gloomy convent of Capuchins.
They had wandered about its garden, among groves of orange, citron,
and cypress, where the waters, leaping in torrents, or gushing in
fountains, or tossed aloft in sparkling jets, fill the air with music
and freshness.

There is a melanch