me
or hope. Besides these, there were others no less fiery and warlike in
disposition, but animated by a loftier spirit. These were valiant and
haughty cavaliers of the old chivalrous lineages, who had inherited a
deadly hatred to the Christians from a long line of warrior ancestors,
and to whom the idea was worse than death that Granada--illustrious
Granada, for ages the seat of Moorish grandeur and delight--should
become the abode of unbelievers.

Among these cavaliers the most eminent was Muza Abul Gazan. He was of
royal lineage, of a proud and generous nature, and a form combining
manly strength and beauty. None could excel him in the management of
the horse and dextrous use of all kinds of weapons: his gracefulness and
skill in the tourney were the theme of praise among the Moorish dames,
and his prowess in the field had made him the terror of the enemy.
He had long repined at the timid policy of Boabdil, and endeavored to
counteract its enervating effects and keep alive the martial spirit of
Granada. For this reason he had promoted jousts and tiltings with the
reed, and all those other public games which bear the semblance of war.
He endeavored also to inculcate into his companions-in-arms those high
chivalrous sentiments which lead to valiant and magnanimous deeds, but
which are apt to decline with the independence of a nation. The generous
efforts of Muza had been in a great measure successful: he was the idol
of the youthful cavaliers; they regarded him as a mirror of chivalry and
endeavored to imitate his lofty and heroic virtues.

When Muza heard the demand of Ferdinand that they should deliver up
their arms, his eye flashed fire. "Does the Christian king think that we
are old men," said he, "and that staffs will suffice us? or that we are
women, and can be contented with distaffs? Let him know that a Moor is
born to the spear and scimetar--to career the steed, bend the bow, and
launch the javelin: deprive him of these, and you deprive him of his
nature. If the Christian king desires our arms, let him come and win
them, but let him win them dearly. For my part, sweeter were a grave
beneath the walls of Granada, on the spot I had died to defend, than
the richest couch within her palaces earned by submission to the
unbeliever."

The words of Muza were received with enthusiastic shouts by the warlike
part of the populace. Granada once more awoke, as a warrior shaking off
a disgraceful lethargy. The commanders