LEGEND OF THE THREE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES
 IN old times there reigned a Moorish king in Granada, whose name was Mohamed, to which his subjects added the
appellation of "The Left-handed." Some say he was so called on account of his being really more expert with
his sinister than his dexter hand; others, because he was prone to take everything by the wrong end, or, in
other words, to mar wherever he meddled. Certain it is, either through misfortune or mismanagement, he was
continually in trouble: thrice was he driven from his throne, and on one occasion barely escaped to Africa
with his life, in the disguise of a fisherman. Still he was as brave as he was blundering; and though
left-handed, wielded his cimeter to such purpose, that he each time reëstablished himself upon his throne by
dint of hard fighting. Instead, however, of learning wisdom from adversity, he hardened his neck, and
stiffened his left arm in willfulness. The evils of a public nature which he thus brought upon himself and his
kingdom may be learned by those who will delve into the Arabian annals of Granada; the present legend deals
but with his domestic policy.
 As this Mohamed was one day riding forth with a train of his courtiers, by the foot of the mountain of Elvira,
he met a band of horsemen returning from a foray into the land of the Christians. They were conducting a long
string of mules laden with spoil, and many captives of both sexes, among whom the monarch was struck with the
appearance of a beautiful damsel, richly attired, who sat weeping on a low palfrey, and heeded not the
consoling words of a duenna who rode beside her.
The monarch was struck with her beauty, and, on inquiring of the captain of the troop, found that she was the
daughter of the governor of a frontier fortress, that had been surprised and sacked in the course of the
foray. Mohamed claimed her as his royal share of the booty, and had her conveyed to the Alhambra. There
everything was devised to soothe her melancholy; and the monarch sought to make her his queen. The Spanish
maid at first repulsed his addresses: he was an infidel; he was the open foe of her country; what was worse,
he was stricken in years!
The monarch, finding his assiduities of no avail, determined to enlist in his favor the duenna, who had been
captured with the lady. She was an Andalusian by birth, whose Christian name is forgotten, being mentioned in
Moorish legends by no other appellation than that of the discreet Kadiga; and discreet in truth she was, as
her whole history makes evident. No sooner had the Moorish king held a little private conversation with her,
than she saw at once the cogency of his reasoning, and undertook his cause with her young mistress.
 "Go to, now!" cried she; "what is there in all this to weep and wail about?, Is it not better to be mistress
of this beautiful palace, with all its gardens and fountains, than to be shut up within your father's old
frontier tower? As to this Mohamed being an infidel, what is that to the purpose? You marry him, not his
religion; and if he is waxing a little old, the sooner will you be a widow, and mistress of yourself; at any
rate, you are in his power, and must either be a queen or a slave."
The arguments of the discreet Kadiga prevailed: The Spanish lady dried her tears, and became the spouse of
Mohamed the Left-handed; she even conformed, in appearance, to the faith of her royal husband; and her
discreet duenna immediately became a zealous convert to the Moslem doctrines: it was then the latter received
the Arabian name of Kadiga, and was permitted to remain in the confidential employ of her mistress.
In time the Moorish king was made the proud and happy father of three lovely daughters, all born at the same
As usual with all Moslem monarchs, he summoned his astrologers on this happy event. They cast the nativities
of the three princesses, and shook their heads. "Daughters, O king!" said they, "are always precarious
property; but these will most need your watchfulness when they arrive at a marriageable age; at that time
gather them under your wings, and trust them to no other guardianship."
 Mohamed the Left-handed was acknowledged to be a wise king by his courtiers, and was certainly so considered
by himself. The prediction of the astrologers caused him but little disquiet, trusting to his ingenuity to
guard his daughters and outwit the Fates.
The queen died within a few years, bequeathing her infant daughters to his love, and to the fidelity of the
Many years had yet to elapse before the princesses would arrive at that period of danger—the
marriageable age. "It is good, however, to be cautious in time," said the shrewd monarch; so he determined to
have them reared in the royal castle of Salobreña. This was a sumptuous palace, incrusted, as it were, in a
powerful Moorish fortress on the summit of a hill overlooking the Mediterranean sea. It was a royal retreat,
in which the Moslem monarchs shut up such of their relatives as might endanger their safety; allowing them all
kinds of luxuries and amusements, in the midst of which they passed their lives in voluptuous indolence.
Here the princesses remained, immured from the world, but surrounded by enjoyment, and attended by female
slaves who anticipated their wishes. They had delightful gardens for their recreation, filled with the rarest
fruits and flowers, with aromatic groves and perfumed baths. On three sides the castle looked down upon a rich
valley, enriched with all kinds of culture, and bounded by the lofty Alpuxarra mountains; on the other side it
overlooked the broad sunny sea.
In this delicious abode, in a propitious climate, and
 under a cloudless sky, the three princesses grew up into wondrous beauty; but, though all reared alike, they
gave early tokens of diversity of character. Their names were Zayda, Zorayda, and Zorahayda.
Zayda, the eldest, was of an intrepid spirit, and took the lead of her sisters in everything. She was curious
and inquisitive, and fond of getting at the bottom of things.
Zorayda had a great feeling for beauty, which was the reason, no doubt, of her delighting to regard her own
image in a mirror or a fountain, and of her fondness for flowers, and jewels, and other tasteful ornaments.
As to Zorahayda, the youngest, she was soft and timid, and extremely sensitive, with a vast deal of disposable
tenderness, as was evident from her number of pet flowers, and pet birds, and pet animals, all of which she
cherished with the fondest care. Her amusements, too, were of a gentle nature, and mixed up with musing and
reverie. She would sit for hours in a balcony, gazing on the sparkling stars of a summer's night, or on the
sea when lit up by the moon; and at such times, the song of a fisherman, faintly heard from the beach, or the
notes of a Moorish flute from some gliding bark, sufficed to elevate her feelings into ecstasy. The least
uproar of the elements, however, filled her with dismay; and a clap of thunder was enough to throw her into a
Years rolled on smoothly and serenely; the discreet Kadiga, to whom the princesses were confided, was faithful
to her trust, and attended them with unremitting care.
The castle of Salobreña, as has been said, was built upon a hill on the sea-coast. One of the exterior walls
straggled down the profile of the hill; until it reached a jutting rock overhanging the sea, with a narrow
 beach at its foot, laved by the rippling billows. A small watch-tower on this rock had been fitted up as a
pavilion, with latticed windows to admit the sea-breeze. Here the princesses used to pass the sultry hours of
The curious Zayda was one day seated at a window of the pavilion, as her sisters, reclining on ottomans, were
taking the siesta or noontide slumber. Her attention was attracted to a galley which came coasting along, with
measured strokes of the oar. As it drew near she observed that it was filled with armed men. The galley
anchored at the foot of the tower: a number of Moorish soldiers landed on the narrow beach, conducting several
Christian prisoners. The curious Zayda awakened her sisters, and all three peeped cautiously through the close
jalousies of the lattice which screened them from sight. Among the prisoners were three Spanish cavaliers,
richly dressed. They were in the flower of youth, and of noble presence; and the lofty manner in which they
carried themselves, though loaded with chains and surrounded with enemies, bespoke the grandeur of their
souls. The princesses gazed with intense and breathless interest. Cooped up as they had been in this castle
among female attendants, seeing nothing of the male sex but black slaves, or the rude fishermen of the
sea-coast, it is not to be wondered at that the appearance of three gallant cavaliers, in the pride of youth
and manly beauty, should produce some commotion in their bosoms.
"Did ever nobler being tread the earth than that cavalier in crimson?" cried Zayda, the eldest of the sisters.
 "See how proudly he bears himself, as though all around him were his slaves!"
"But notice that one in green!" exclaimed Zorayda. "What grace! what elegance! what spirit!"
The gentle Zorahayda said nothing, but she secretly gave preference to the cavalier in blue.
The princesses remained gazing until the prisoners were out of sight; then heaving long-drawn sighs, they
turned round, looked at each other for a moment, and sat down, musing and pensive, on their ottomans.
The discreet Kadiga found them in this situation; they related what they had seen, and even the withered heart
of the duenna was warmed. "Poor youths!" exclaimed she, "I'll warrant their captivity makes many a fair and
high-born lady's heart ache in their native land! Ah! my children, you have little idea of the life these
cavaliers lead in their own country. Such sporting at tournaments! such devotion to the ladies! such courting
The curiosity of Zayda was fully aroused; she was insatiable in her inquiries, and drew from the duenna the
most animated pictures of the scenes of her youthful days and native land. The beautiful Zorayda bridled up,
and slyly regarded herself in a mirror, when the theme turned upon the charms of the Spanish ladies; while
Zorahayda suppressed a struggling sigh at the mention of moonlight serenades.
Every day the curious Zayda renewed her inquiries, and every day the sage duenna repeated her stories, which
were listened to with profound interest, though with frequent sighs by her gentle auditors. The discreet old
woman awoke at length to the mischief she might be doing. She
 had been accustomed to think of the princesses only as children; but they had imperceptibly ripened beneath
her eye, and now bloomed before her three lovely damsels of the marriageable age. It is time, thought the
duenna, to give notice to the king.
Mohamed the Left-handed was seated one morning on a divan in a cool hall of the Alhambra, when a slave arrived
from the fortress of Salobreña, with a message from the sage Kadiga, congratulating him on the anniversary of
his daughters' birthday. The slave at the same time presented a delicate little basket decorated with flowers,
within which, on a couch of vine and fig-leaves, lay a peach, an apricot, and a nectarine, with their bloom
and down and dewy sweetness upon them, and all in the early stage of tempting ripeness. The monarch was versed
in the Oriental language of fruits and flowers, and rapidly divined the meaning of this emblematical offering.
"So," said he, "the critical period pointed out by the astrologers is arrived: my daughters are at a
marriageable age. What is to be done? They are shut up from the eyes of men; they are under the eyes of the
discreet Kadiga,—all very good,—but still they are not under my own eye, as was prescribed by the
astrologers: I must gather them under my wing, and trust to no other guardianship."
So saying, he ordered that a tower of the Alhambra should be prepared for their reception, and departed at the
head of his guards for the fortress of Salobreña, to conduct them home in person.
About three years had elapsed since Mohamed had beheld his daughters, and he could scarcely credit his eyes at
 the wonderful change which that small space of time had made in their appearance. During the interval, they
had passed that wondrous boundary line in female life which separates the crude, unformed, and thoughtless
girl from the blooming, blushing, meditative woman. It is like passing from the flat, bleak, uninteresting
plains of La Mancha to the voluptuous valleys and swelling hills of Andalusia.
Zayda was tall and finely formed, with a lofty demeanor and a penetrating eye. She entered with a stately and
decided step, and made a profound reverence to Mohamed, treating him more as her sovereign than her father.
Zorayda was of the middle height, with an alluring look and swimming gait, and a sparkling beauty, heightened
by the assistance of the toilet. She approached her father with a smile, kissed his hand, and saluted him with
several stanzas from a popular Arabian poet, with which the monarch was delighted. Zorahayda was shy and
timid, smaller than her sisters, and with a beauty of that tender beseeching kind which looks for fondness and
protection. She drew near to her father, with a timid and almost faltering step, and would have taken his hand
to kiss, but on looking up into his face, and seeing it beaming with a paternal smile, the tenderness of her
nature broke forth, and she threw herself upon his neck.
Mohamed the Left-handed surveyed his blooming daughters with mingled pride and perplexity, for while he
exulted in their charms, he bethought himself of the prediction of the astrologers.
He prepared for his return to Granada, by sending heralds before him, commanding every one to keep out of the
road by which he was to pass, and that all doors and windows should be closed at the approach of the
 This done, he set forth, escorted by a troop of black horsemen of hideous aspect, and clad in shining armor.
The princesses rode beside the king, closely veiled, on beautiful white palfreys, with velvet caparisons,
embroidered with gold, and sweeping the ground; the bits and stirrups were of gold, and the silken bridles
adorned with pearls and precious stones. The palfreys were covered with little silver bells, which made the
most musical tinkling as they ambled gently along. Woe to the unlucky wight, however, who lingered in the way
when he heard the tinkling of these bells!—the guards were ordered to cut him down without mercy.
The cavalcade was drawing near to Granada, when it overtook, on the banks of the river Xenil, a small body of
Moorish soldiers with a convoy of prisoners. It was too late for the soldiers to get out of the way, so they
threw themselves on their faces on the earth, ordering their captives to do the like. Among the prisoners were
the three identical cavaliers whom the princesses had seen from the pavilion. They either did not understand,
or were too haughty to obey the order, and remained standing and gazing upon the cavalcade as it approached.
The ire of the monarch was kindled at this flagrant defiance of his orders. Drawing his cimeter, and pressing
forward, he was about to deal a left-handed blow that might have been fatal to at least one of the gazers,
when the princesses crowded round him, and implored mercy for the prisoners; even the timid Zorahayda forgot
her shyness, and became eloquent in their behalf. Mohamed paused, with uplifted cimeter, when the, captain of
the guard threw himself at his feet. "Let not your highness," said he, "do a deed that may cause great scandal
king-  dom. These are three brave and noble Spanish knights, who have been taken in battle, fighting like lions; they
are of high birth, and may bring great ransoms." "—Enough!" said the king. "I will spare their lives,
but punish their audacity—let them be taken to the Vermilion Towers, and put to hard labor."
Mohamed was making one of his usual left-handed blunders. In the tumult and agitation of this blustering
scene, the veils of the three princesses had been thrown back, and the radiance of their beauty revealed; and
in prolonging the parley, the king had given that beauty time to have its full effect. In those days people
fell in love much more suddenly than at present, as all ancient stories make manifest: it is not a matter of
wonder, therefore, that the hearts of the three cavaliers were completely captured; especially as gratitude
was added to their admiration; it is a little singular, however, though no less certain, that each of them was
enraptured with a different beauty. As to the princesses, they were more than ever struck with the noble
demeanor of the captives, and cherished in their breasts all that they had heard of their valor and noble
The cavalcade resumed its march; the three princesses rode pensively along on their tinkling palfreys, now and
then stealing a glance behind in search of the Christian captives, and the latter were conducted to their
allotted prison in the Vermilion Towers.
The residence provided for the princesses was one of the most dainty that fancy could devise. It was in a
tower somewhat apart from the main palace of the Alhambra, though connected with it by the wall which
encircled the whole summit of the hill. On one side it looked into the
 interior of the fortress, and had, at its foot, a small garden filled with the rarest flowers. On the other
side it overlooked a deep embowered ravine separating the grounds of the Alhambra from those of the
Generalife. The interior of the tower was divided into small fairy apartments, beautifully ornamented in the
light Arabian style, surrounding a lofty hall, the vaulted roof of which rose almost to the summit of the
tower. The walls and the ceilings of the hall were adorned with arabesque and fretwork, sparkling with gold
and with brilliant penciling. In the centre of the marble pavement was an alabaster fountain, set round with
aromatic shrubs and flowers, and throwing up a jet of water that cooled the whole edifice and had a lulling
sound. Round the hall were suspended cages of gold and silver wire, containing singing-birds of the finest
plumage or sweetest note.
The princesses had been represented as always cheerful when in the Castle of the Salobreña; the king had
expected to see them enraptured with the Alhambra. To his surprise, however, they began to pine, and grow
melancholy, and dissatisfied with everything around them. The flowers yielded them no fragrance, the song of
the nightingale disturbed their night's rest, and they were out of all patience with the alabaster fountain,
with its eternal drop-drop and splash-splash, from morning till night and from night till morning.
The king, who was somewhat of a testy, tyrannical disposition, took this at first in high dudgeon; but he
reflected that his daughters had arrived at an age when the female mind expands and its desires augment. "They
are no longer children," said he to himself, "they are women grown, and require suitable objects to interest
 them." He put in requisition, therefore, all the dress-makers, and the jewelers, and the artificers in gold
and silver throughout the shops of Granada, and the princesses were overwhelmed with robes of silk, and
tissue, and brocade, and cashmere shawls, and necklaces of pearls and diamonds, and rings, and bracelets, and
anklets, and all manner of precious things.
All, however, was of no avail; the princesses continued pale and languid in the midst of their finery, and
looked like three blighted rose-buds, drooping from one stalk. The king was at his wit's end. He had in
general a laudable confidence in his own judgment, and never took advice. "The whims and caprices of three
marriageable damsels, however, are sufficient," said he, "to puzzle the shrewdest head." So for once in his
life he called in the aid of counsel.
The person to whom he applied was the experienced duenna.
"Kadiga," said the king, "I know you to be one of the most discreet women in the whole world, as well as one
of the most trustworthy; for these reasons I have always continued you about the persons of my daughters. I
now wish you to find out the secret malady that is preying upon the princesses, and to devise some means of
restoring them to health and cheerfulness."
Kadiga promised implicit obedience. In fact she knew more of the malady of the princesses than they
themselves. Shutting herself up with them, however, she endeavored to insinuate herself into their confidence.
"My dear children, what is the reason you are so dismal and downcast in so beautiful a place, where you have
everything that heart can wish?"
 The princesses looked vacantly round the apartment, and sighed.
"What more, then, would you have? Shall I get you the wonderful parrot that talks all languages, and is the
delight of Granada?"
"Odious!" exclaimed the princess Zayda. "A horrid, screaming bird, that chatters words without ideas: one must
be without brains to tolerate such a pest."
"Shall I send for a monkey from the rock of Gibraltar, to divert you with his antics?"
"A monkey! faugh!" cried Zorayda; "the detestable mimic of man. I hate the nauseous animal."
"What say you to the famous black singer Casem, from Morocco? They say he has a voice as fine as a woman's."
"I am terrified at the sight of these black slaves," said the delicate Zorahayda; "besides, I have lost all
relish for music."
"Ah! my child, you would not say so," replied the old woman, slyly, "had you heard the music I heard last
evening, from the three Spanish cavaliers whom we met on our journey. But bless me, children! what is the
matter that you blush so and are in such a flutter?"
"Nothing, nothing, good mother; pray proceed."
"Well; as I was passing by the Vermilion Towers last evening, I saw the three cavaliers resting after their
day's labor. One was playing on the guitar, so gracefully, and the others sang by turns; and they did it in
such style, that the very guards seemed like statues, or men enchanted. Allah forgive me! I could not help
being moved at hearing the songs of my native country. And then to see three such noble and handsome youths in
chains and slavery!"
 Here the kind-hearted old woman could not restrain her tears.
"Perhaps, mother, you could manage to procure us a sight of these cavaliers," said Zayda.
"I think," said Zorayda, "a little music would be quite reviving."
The timid Zorahayda said nothing, but threw her arms round the neck of Kadiga.
"Mercy on me!" exclaimed the discreet old woman, "what are you talking of, my children? Your father would be
the death of us all if he heard of such a thing. To be sure, these cavaliers are evidently well-bred, and
high-minded youths; but what of that? they are the enemies of our faith, and you must not even think of them
but with abhorrence."
The princesses hung round their old duenna, and coaxed, and entreated, and declared that a refusal would break
What could she do? She was certainly the most discreet old woman in the whole world, and one of the most
faithful servants to the king; but was she to see three beautiful princesses break their hearts for the mere
tinkling of a guitar? Besides, though she had been so long among the Moors, and changed her faith in imitation
of her mistress, like a trusty follower, yet she was a Spaniard born, and had the lingerings of Christianity
in her heart. So she set about to contrive how the wish of the princesses might be gratified.
The Christian captives, confined in the Vermilion Towers, were under the charge of a big-whiskered,
broad-shouldered renegado, called Hussein Baba, who was reputed to have a
 most itching palm. She went to him privately, and slipping a broad piece of gold into his hand, "Hussein
Baba," said she; "my mistresses the three princesses, who are shut up in the tower, and in sad want of
amusement, have heard of the musical talents of the three Spanish cavaliers, and are desirous of hearing a
specimen of their skill. I am sure you are too kind-hearted to refuse them so innocent a gratification."
"What! and to have my head set grinning over the gate of my own tower! for that would be the reward, if the
king should discover it."
"No danger of anything of the kind; the affair may be managed so that the whim of the princesses may be
gratified, and their father be never the wiser. You know the deep ravine outside of the walls which passes
immediately below the tower. Put the three Christians to work there, and at the intervals of their labor, let
them play and sing, as if for their own recreation. In this way the princesses will be able to hear them from
the windows of the tower, and you may be sure of their paying well for your compliance."
As the good old woman concluded her harangue, she kindly pressed the rough hand of the renegado, and left
within it another piece of gold.
Her eloquence was irresistible. The very next day the three cavaliers were put to work in the ravine. During
the noontide heat, when their fellow-laborers were sleeping in the shade, and the guard nodding drowsily at
his post, they seated themselves among the herbage at the foot of the tower, and sang a Spanish roundelay to
the accompaniment of the guitar.
 The glen was deep, the tower was high, but their voices rose distinctly in the stillness of the summer noon.
The princesses listened from their balcony; they had been taught the Spanish language by their duenna, and
were moved by the tenderness of the song. The discreet Kadiga, on the contrary, was terribly shocked. "Allah
preserve us!" cried she, "they are singing a love-ditty, addressed to yourselves. Did ever mortal hear of such
audacity? I will run to the slave-master, and have them soundly bastinadoed."
"What! bastinado such gallant cavaliers, and for singing so charmingly!" The three beautiful princesses were
filled with horror at the idea. With all her virtuous indignation, the good old woman was of a placable
nature, and easily appeased. Besides, the music seemed to have a beneficial effect upon her young mistresses.
A rosy bloom had already come to their cheeks, and their eyes began to sparkle. She made no further objection,
therefore, to the love-ditty of the cavaliers.
When it was finished, the princesses remained silent for a time; at length Zorayda took up a lute, and with a
sweet, though faint and trembling voice, warbled a little Arabian air, the burden of which was, "The rose is
concealed among her leaves, but she listens with delight to the song of the nightingale."
From this time forward the cavaliers worked almost daily in the ravine. The considerate Hussein Baba became
more and more indulgent, and daily more prone to sleep at his post. For some time a vague intercourse was kept
up by popular songs and romances, which in some measure
 responded to each other, and breathed the feelings of the parties. By degrees the princesses showed themselves
at the balcony, when they could do so without being perceived by the guards. They conversed with the cavaliers
also, by means of flowers, with the symbolical language of which they were mutually acquainted; the
difficulties of their intercourse added to its charms, for love delights to struggle with difficulties, and
thrives the most hardily on the scantiest soil.
The change effected in the looks and spirits of the princesses by this secret intercourse surprised and
gratified the left-handed king; but no one was more elated than the discreet Kadiga, who considered it all
owing to her able management.
At length there was an interruption in this telegraphic correspondence: for several days the cavaliers ceased
to make their appearance in the glen. The princesses looked out from the tower in vain. In vain they stretched
their swan-like necks from the balcony; in vain they sang like captive nightingales in their cage: nothing was
to be seen of their Christian lovers; not a note responded from the groves. The discreet Kadiga sallied forth
in quest of intelligence, and soon returned with a face full of trouble. "Ah, my children!" cried she, "I saw
what all this would come to, but you would have your way; you may now hang up your lutes on the willows. The
Spanish cavaliers are ransomed by their families; they are down in Granada, and preparing to return to their
The three beautiful princesses were in despair at the tidings. Zayda was indignant at the slight put upon
them, in thus being deserted without a parting word. Zorayda wrung her hands and cried, and looked in the
 wiped away her tears, and cried afresh. The gentle Zorahayda leaned over the balcony and wept in silence, and
her tears fell drop by drop among the flowers of the bank, where the faithless cavaliers had so often been
The discreet Kadiga did all in her power to soothe their sorrow. "Take comfort, my children," said she; "this
is nothing when you are used it. This is the way of the world. Ah! when you are as old as I am, you will know
how to value these men. I'll warrant these cavaliers have their loves among the Spanish beauties of Cordova
and Seville, and will soon be serenading under their balconies, and thinking no more of the Moorish beauties
in the Alhambra. Take comfort, therefore, my children, and drive them from your hearts."
The comforting words of the discreet Kadiga only redoubled the distress of the three princesses, and for two
days they continued inconsolable. On the morning of the third the good old woman entered their apartment, all
ruffling with indignation.
"Who would have believed such insolence in mortal man!" exclaimed she, as soon as she could find words to
express herself; "but I am rightly served for having connived at this deception of your worthy father. Never
talk more to me of your Spanish cavaliers."
"Why, what has happened, good Kadiga?" exclaimed the princesses in breathless anxiety.
"What has happened?—treason has happened! or, what is almost as bad, treason has been proposed; and to
me, the most faithful of subjects, the trustiest of duennas! Yes, my children, the Spanish cavaliers have
dared to tamper with me, that I should persuade you to fly with them to Cordova, and become their wives!"
 Here the excellent old woman covered her face with her hands, and gave way to a violent burst of grief and
indignation. The three beautiful princesses turned pale and red, pale and red, and trembled, and looked down,
and cast shy looks at each other, but said nothing. Meantime the old woman sat rocking backward and forward in
violent agitation, and now and then breaking out into exclamations,—"That ever I should live to be so
insulted!—I, the most faithful of servants!"
At length the eldest princess, who had most spirit and always took the lead, approached her, and laying her
hand upon her shoulder, "Well, mother," said she, "supposing we were willing to fly with these Christian
cavaliers—is such a thing possible?"
The good old woman paused suddenly in her grief, and looking up, "Possible," echoed she; "to be sure it is
possible. Have not the cavaliers already bribed Hussein Baba, the renegado captain of the guard, and arranged
the whole plan? But, then, to think of deceiving your father! your father, who has placed such confidence in
me!" Here the worthy woman gave way to a fresh burst of grief, and began again to rock backward and forward,
and to wring her hands.
"But our father has never placed any confidence in us," said the eldest princess, "but has trusted to bolts
and bars, and treated us as captives."
"Why, that is true enough," replied the old woman, again pausing in her grief; "he has indeed treated you most
unreasonably, keeping you shut up here, to waste your bloom in a moping old tower, like roses left to wither
in a flower-jar. But, then, to fly from your native land!"
"And is not the land we fly to the native land of our
 mother, where we shall live in freedom? And shall we not each have a youthful husband in exchange for a severe
"Why, that again is all very true; and your father, I must confess, is rather tyrannical; but what then,"
relapsing into her grief, "would you leave me behind to bear the brunt of his vengeance?"
"By no means, my good Kadiga; cannot you fly with us?"
"Very true, my child; and to tell the truth, when I talked the matter over with Hussein Baba, he promised to
take care of me, if I would accompany you in your flight; but then, bethink you, my children, are you willing
to renounce the faith of your father?"
"The Christian faith was the original faith of our mother," said the eldest princess; "I am ready to embrace
it, and so, I am sure, are my sisters."
"Right again," exclaimed the old woman, brightening up; "it was the original faith of your mother, and
bitterly did she lament, on her death-bed, that she had renounced it. Yes, my children, I too was born a
Christian, and have remained a Christian in my heart, and am resolved to return to the faith. I have talked on
the subject with Hussein Baba, who is a Spaniard by birth, and comes from a place not far from my native town.
He is equally anxious to see his own country, and to be reconciled to the Church; and the cavaliers have
promised that, if we are disposed to become man and wife, on returning to our native land, they will provide
for us handsomely."
In a word, it appeared that this extremely discreet and provident old woman had consulted with the cavaliers
and the renegado, and had concerted the whole plan of escape.
 The eldest princess immediately assented to it; and her example, as usual, determined the conduct of her
sisters. It is true the youngest hesitated, for she was gentle and timid of soul, and there was a struggle in
her bosom between filial feeling and youthful passion: the latter, however, as usual, gained the victory, and
with silent tears and stifled sighs she prepared herself for flight.
The rugged hill on which the Alhambra is built was, in old times, perforated with subterranean passages, cut
through the rock, and leading from the fortress to various parts of the city, and to distant sally-ports on
the banks of the Darro and the Xenil. They had been constructed at different times by the Moorish kings, as
means of escape from sudden insurrections, or of secretly issuing forth on private enterprises. Many of them
are now entirely lost, while others remain, partly choked with rubbish, and partly walled up,—monuments
of the jealous precautions and warlike stratagems of the Moorish government. By one of these passages Hussein
Baba had undertaken to conduct the princesses to a sally-port beyond the walls of the city, where the
cavaliers were to be ready with fleet steeds to bear the whole party over the borders.
The appointed night arrived; the tower of the princesses had been locked up as usual, and the Alhambra was
buried in deep sleep. Towards midnight the discreet Kadiga listened from the balcony of a window that looked
into the garden. Hussein Baba, the renegado, was already below, and gave the appointed signal. The duenna
fastened the end of a ladder of ropes to the balcony, lowered it into the garden and descended. The two eldest
prin-  cesses followed her with beating hearts; but when it came to the turn of the youngest princess, Zorahayda, she
hesitated and trembled. Several times she ventured a delicate little foot upon the ladder, and as often drew
back, while her poor little heart fluttered more and more the longer she delayed. She cast a wistful look back
into the silken chamber; she had lived in it, to be sure, like a bird in a cage; but within it she was secure;
who could tell what dangers might beset her, should she flutter forth into the wide world! Now she bethought
her of her gallant Christian lover, and her little foot was instantly upon the ladder; and anon she thought of
her father, and shrank back. But fruitless is the attempt to describe the conflict in the bosom of one so
young and tender and loving, but so timid and so ignorant of the world.
In vain her sisters implored, the duenna scolded, and the renegado blasphemed beneath the balcony: the gentle
little Moorish maid stood doubting and wavering on the verge of elopement; tempted by the sweetness of the
sin, but terrified at its perils.
Every moment increased the danger of discovery. A distant tramp was heard. "The patrols are walking their
rounds," cried the renegado; "if we linger, we perish. Princess, descend instantly, or we leave you."
Zorahayda was for a moment in fearful agitation; then loosening the ladder of ropes, with desperate resolution
she flung it from the balcony.
"It is decided!" cried she; "flight is now out of my power! Allah guide and bless ye, my dear sisters!"
The two eldest princesses were shocked at the thoughts of leaving her behind, and would fain have lingered,
but the patrol was advancing; the renegado was furious, and
 they were hurried away to the subterraneous passage. They groped their way through a fearful labyrinth, cut
through the heart of the mountain, and succeeded in reaching, undiscovered, an iron gate that opened outside
of the walls. The Spanish cavaliers were waiting to receive them, disguised as Moorish soldiers of the guard,
commanded by the renegado.
The lover of Zorahayda was frantic when he learned that she had refused to leave the tower; but there was no
time to waste in lamentations. The two princesses were placed behind their lovers, the discreet Kadiga mounted
behind the renegado, and they all set off at a round pace in the direction of the Pass of Lope, which leads
through the mountains towards Cordova.
They had not proceeded far when they heard the noise of drums and trumpets from the battlements of the
"Our flight is discovered!" said the renegado.
"We have fleet steeds, the night is dark, and we may distance all pursuit," replied the cavaliers.
They put spurs to their horses, and scoured across the Vega. They attained the foot of the mountain of Elvira,
which stretches like a promontory into the plain. The renegado paused and listened. "As yet," said he, "there
is no one on our traces; we shall make good our escape to the mountains." While he spoke a light blaze sprang
up on the top of the watch-tower of the Alhambra.
"Confusion!" cried the renegado, "that bale fire will put all the guards of the passes on the alert. Away!
away! Spur like mad,—there is no time to be lost."
 Away they dashed—the clattering of their horses' hoofs echoed from rock to rook, as they swept along the
road that skirts the rocky mountain of Elvira. As they galloped on, the bale fire of the Alhambra was answered
in every direction; light after light blazed on the watch-towers of the mountains.
"Forward! forward!" cried the renegado, with many an oath, "to the bridge,—to the bridge, before the
alarm has reached there!"
They doubled the promontory of the mountains, and arrived in sight of the famous Bridge of Pinos, that crosses
a rushing stream often dyed with Christian and Moslem blood. To their confusion, the tower on the bridge
blazed with lights and glittered with armed men. The renegado pulled up his steed, rose in his stirrups and
looked about him for a moment; then beckoning to the cavaliers, he struck off from the road, skirted the river
for some distance, and dashed into its waters. The cavaliers called upon the princesses to cling to them, and
did the same. They were borne for some distance down the rapid current, the surges roared round them, but the
beautiful princesses clung to their Christian knights, and never uttered a complaint: The cavaliers attained
the opposite bank in safety, and were conducted by the renegado, by rude and unfrequented paths and wild
ravines, through the heart of the mountains, so as to avoid all the regular passes. In a word, they succeeded
in reaching the ancient city of Cordova; where their restoration to their country and friends was celebrated
with great rejoicings, for they were of the noblest families. The beautiful princesses were forthwith received
into the Church and were rendered happy wives.
 In our hurry to make good the escape of the princesses across the river, and up the mountains, we forgot to
mention the fate of the discreet Kadiga. She had clung like a cat to Hussein Baba in the scamper across the
Vega, screaming at every bound, and drawing many an oath from the whiskered renegado; but when he prepared to
plunge his steed into the river, her terror knew no bounds. "Grasp me not so tightly," cried Hussein Baba;
"hold on by my belt and fear nothing." She held firmly with both hands by the leathern belt that girded the
broad backed renegado; but when he halted with the cavaliers to take breath on the mountain summit, the duenna
was no longer to be seen.
"What has become of Kadiga?" cried the princesses in alarm.
"Allah alone knows!" replied the renegado; "my belt came loose when in the midst of the river, and Kadiga was
swept with it down the stream. The will of Allah be done! but it was an embroidered belt, and of great price."
There was no time to waste in idle regrets; yet bitterly did the princesses bewail the loss of their discreet
counsellor. That excellent old woman, however, did not lose more than half of her nine lives in the water: a
fisherman, who was drawing his nets some distance down the stream, brought her to land, and was not a little
astonished at his miraculous draught. What further became of the discreet Kadiga, the legend does not mention;
certain it is that she evinced her discretion in never venturing within the reach of Mohamed the Left-handed.
Almost as little is known of the conduct of that sagacious monarch when he discovered the escape of his
daugh-  ters, and the deceit practised upon him by the most faithful of servants. It was the only instance in which he
had called in the aid of counsel, and he was never afterwards known to be guilty of a similar weakness. He
took good care, however, to guard his remaining daughter, who had no disposition to elope; it is thought,
indeed, that she secretly repented having remained behind: now and then she was seen leaning on the
battlements of the tower, and looking mournfully towards the mountains in the direction of Cordova, and
sometimes the notes of her lute were heard accompanying plaintive ditties, irk which she was said to lament
the loss of her sisters and her lover, and to bewail her solitary life. She died young, and, according to
popular rumor, was buried in a vault beneath the tower, and her untimely fate has given rise to more than one