king, waiting in silence the moment when his presence
should be perceived.

He did not wait long; the eyes and gesture of the girl nestled at the
feet of Boabdil drew the king's attention to the spot where the stranger
stood: his eye brightened when it fell upon him.

"Almamen," cried Boabdil, eagerly, "you are welcome." As he spoke, he
motioned to the dancing-girls to withdraw. "May I not rest? O core of my
heart, thy bird is in its home," murmured the songstress at the king's
feet.

"Sweet Amine," answered Boabdil, tenderly smoothing down her ringlets as
he bent to kiss her brow, "you should witness only my hours of delight.
Toil and business have nought with thee; I will join thee ere yet the
nightingale hymns his last music to the moon." Amine sighed, rose, and
vanished with her companions.

"My friend," said the king, when alone with Almamen, "your counsels
often soothe me into quiet, yet in such hours quiet is a crime. But what
do?--how struggle?--how act? Alas! at the hour of his birth, rightly
did they affix to the name of Boabdil, the epithet of _El Zogoybi_. [The
Unlucky]. Misfortune set upon my brow her dark and fated stamp ere yet
my lips could shape a prayer against her power. My fierce father, whose
frown was as the frown of Azrael, hated me in my cradle; in my youth
my name was invoked by rebels against my will; imprisoned by my father,
with the poison-bowl or the dagger hourly before my eyes, I was saved
only by the artifice of my mother. When age and infirmity broke the
iron sceptre of the king, my claims to the throne were set aside, and
my uncle, El Zagal, usurped my birthright. Amidst open war and secret
treason I wrestled for my crown; and now, the sole sovereign of
Granada, when, as I fondly imagined, my uncle had lost all claim on
the affections of my people by succumbing to the Christian king, and
accepting a fief under his dominion, I find that the very crime of El
Zagal is fixed upon me by my unhappy subjects--that they deem he would
not have yielded but for my supineness. At the moment of my delivery
from my rival, I am received with execration by my subjects, and, driven
into this my fortress of the Alhambra, dare not venture to head my
armies, or to face my people; yet am I called weak and irresolute, when
strength and courage are forbid me. And as the water glides from yonder
rock, that hath no power to retain it, I see the tide of empire welling
from my hands."

The young king spoke