es and the poplars
seemed very cool. Thirstily, after the long drought, the Darro, the Arab
stream which ran scarlet with the blood of Moorish strife, wound its way
over its stony bed among the hills; and beyond, in strange contrast with
all the fertility, was the grey and silent grandeur of the Sierra
Nevada. Few places can be more charming than the green wood in which
stands the stronghold of the Moorish kings; the wind sighs among the
topmost branches and all about is the sweet sound of running water; in
spring the ground is carpeted with violets, and the heavy foliage gives
an enchanting coldness. A massive gateway, flanked by watch-towers,
forms the approach; but the actual entrance, offering no hint of the
incredible magnificence within, is an insignificant door.

But then, then you are immediately transported to a magic palace,
existing in some uncertain age of fancy, which does not seem the work of
human hands, but rather of Jin, an enchanted dwelling of seven lovely
damsels. It is barely conceivable that historical persons inhabited such
a place. At the same time it explains the wonderful civilisation of the
Moors in Spain, with their fantastic battles, their songs and strange
histories; and it brings the _Arabian Nights_ into the bounds of sober
reality: after he has seen the Alhambra none can doubt the literal truth
of the stories of Sinbad the Sailor and of Hasan of Bassorah.

* * *

From the terrace that overlooks the city you enter the Court of
Myrtles--a long pool of water with goldfish swimming to and fro,
enclosed by myrtle hedges. At the ends are arcades, borne by marble
columns with capitals of surpassing beauty. It is very quiet and very
restful; the placid water gives an indescribable sensation of delight,
and at the end mirrors the slender columns and the decorated arches so
that in reflection you see the entrance to a second palace, which is
filled with mysterious, beautiful things. But in the Alhambra the
imagination finds itself at last out of its depth, it cannot conjure up
chambers more beautiful than the reality presents. It serves only to
recall the old inhabitants to the deserted halls.

The Moors continually used inscriptions with great effect, and there is
one in this court which surpasses all others in its oriental imagery, in
praise of Mohammed V.: _Thou givest safety from the breeze to the
blades of grass, and inspirest terror in the very stars of heaven. When
the shining stars qui