and close by were the stakes prepared, where the
condemned were to be burnt to death. Seats were arranged for the
great, the gay, the beautiful; for such is the horrible curiosity of
human nature, that this cruel sacrifice was attended with more
eagerness than a theatre, or even a bull-feast.

As the day advanced, the scaffolds and balconies were filled with
expecting multitudes; the sun shone brightly upon fair faces and
gallant dresses; one would have thought it some scene of elegant
festivity, instead of an exhibition of human agony and death. But what
a different spectacle and ceremony was this, from those which Granada
exhibited in the days of her Moorish splendour! "Her galas, her
tournaments, her sports of the ring, her fetes of St. John, her music,
her Zambras, and admirable tilts of canes! Her serenades, her concerts,
her songs in Generaliffe! The costly liveries of the Abencerrages,
their exquisite inventions, the skill and valour of the Alabaces, the
superb dresses of the Zegries, Mazas, and Gomeles!"[10]--All these
were at an end. The days of chivalry were over. Instead of the prancing
cavalcade, with neighing steed and lively trumpet; with burnished
lance, and helm, and buckler; with rich confusion of plume, and scarf,
and banner, where purple, and scarlet, and green, and orange, and every
gay colour, were mingled with cloth of gold and fair embroidery;
instead of this, crept on the gloomy pageant of superstition, in cowl
and sackcloth; with cross and coffin, and frightful symbols of human
suffering. In place of the frank, hardy knight, open and brave, with
his lady's favour in his casque, and amorous motto on his shield,
looking, by gallant deeds, to win the smile of beauty, came the shaven,
unmanly monk, with downcast eyes, and head and heart bleached in the
cold cloister, secretly exulting in this bigot triumph.

[Footnote 10: Rodd's Civil Wars of Granada.]

The sound of the bells gave notice that the dismal procession was
advancing. It passed slowly through the principal streets of the city,
bearing in advance the awful banner of the Holy Office. The prisoners
walked singly, attended by confessors, and guarded by familiars of the
inquisition. They were clad in different garments, according to the
nature of their punishments; those who were to suffer death wore the
hideous Samarra, painted with flames and demons. The procession was
swelled by choirs of boys, different religious orders and public
digni