l I took, while old Mateo sat beside me, rejoicing
in the flavor of a Gibraltar cigar which I gave him. But my time was
precious, and so I let the "Son of the Alhambra" go back to his loom, and
set out for the Palace of the Moorish Kings.

This palace is so hidden behind the ambitious shell of that of Charles V.
that I was at a loss where it could be. I thought I had compassed the
hill, and yet had seen no indications of the renowned magnificence of the
Alhambra. But a little door in a blank wall ushered me into a true Moorish
realm, the Court of the Fishpond, or of the Myrtles, as it is sometimes
called. Here I saw again the slender pillars, the fringed and embroidered
arches, and the perforated, lace-like tracery of the fairy corridors.
Here, hedges of roses and myrtles still bloomed around the ancient tank,
wherein hundreds of gold-fish disported. The noises of the hill do not
penetrate here, and the solitary porter who admitted me went back to his
post, and suffered me to wander at will through the enchanted halls.

I passed out of this court by an opposite door, and saw, through the
vistas of marble pillars and the wonderful fret-work which seems a thing
of air rather than of earth, the Fountain of the Lions. Thence I entered
in succession the Hall of the Abencerrages, the Hall of the Two Sisters,
the apartments of the Sultanas, the Mosque, and the Hall of the
Ambassadors. These places--all that is left of the renowned palace--are
now well kept, and carefully guarded. Restorations are going on, here and
there, and the place is scrupulously watched, that no foreign Vandal, may
further injure what the native Goths have done their best to destroy. The
rubbish has been cleared away; the rents in the walls have been filled up,
and, for the first time since it passed into Spanish hands, there seems a
hope that the Alhambra will be allowed to stand. What has been already
destroyed we can only partially conjecture; but no one sees what remains
without completing the picture in his own imagination, and placing it
among the most perfect and marvellous creations of human genius.

Nothing can exceed the richness of invention which, in this series of
halls, corridors, and courts, never repeats the same ornaments, but, from
the simplest primitive forms and colors, produces a thousand
combinations, not one of which is in discord with the grand design. It is
useless to attempt a detailed description of this architecture; and it is