t
demonstration of force proved as useless as the preceding: it ended in
nothing; owing partly to the dissensions of Mahometans, and partly to
the activity of the Christians, who not only rendered abortive the
measures of the enemy, but gained some signal advantages over them.
Yussef was forced to retreat on Almeida. Whether through the distrust of
the Mahometan princes, who appear to have penetrated his intention of
subjecting them to his empire, or through his apprehension of Alfonso,
he again returned to Africa, to procure new and more considerable
levies. In A.D. 1091 he landed a third time at Algeziras, not so much
with the view of humbling the Christian King as of executing the
perfidious design he had so long harbored. For form's sake, indeed, he
invested Toledo, but he could have entertained no expectation of
reducing it; and when he perceived that the Andalusian princes refused
to join him, he eagerly left that city, and proceeded to secure far
dearer and easier interests: he openly threw off the mask, and commenced
his career of spoliation.

The King of Granada, Abdallah ben Balkin, was the first victim to
African perfidy. In the conviction that he must be overwhelmed if
resistance were offered, he left his city to welcome Yussef. His
submission was vain: he was instantly loaded with chains, and with his
family sent to Agmat. Timur ben Balkin, brother of Abdallah, was in the
same violent manner despoiled of Malaga. Mahomet now perceived the
grievous error which he had committed, and the prudent foresight of his
son Al Raxid. "Did not I tell thee," said the latter, mournfully, "what
the consequences would be; that we should be driven from our palace and
country?"

"Thou wert indeed a true prophet," replied the self-accused father; "but
what power could avert the decrees of fate?"

It seemed as if fate had indeed resolved that this well-meaning but
misguided prince should fall by his own obstinacy; for though his son
advised him to seek the alliance of Alfonso, he refused to do so until
that alliance could no longer avail him. He himself seemed to think that
the knell of his departing greatness was about to sound; and the most
melancholy images were present to his fancy, even in sleep. "One night,"
says an Arabic historian, "he heard in a dream his ruin predicted by one
of his sons: he awoke, and the same verses were repeated:

"'Once, Fortune carried thee in her car of triumph and thy name was by
renown sp