friendship,
paraded the streets, or tenanted the dwellings of Granada.

The high balconies of the city were hung with costly drapery, and the
turrets of the magnificent palaces adorned with a profusion of large
waving banners and gay pennons. Every window was crowded with rank and
beauty, witnessing the gambols of the merry children or the boisterous
recreations of the populace. The streets themselves afforded a quaint
and curious spectacle, for in promiscuous and gay confusion were seen
the splendid apparel of the noble, and the modest garb of the peasant;
the shining armour and waving plumes of the Christian warrior, and the
gaudy fantastic habiliments of the Moslem. With them appeared the solemn
and lugubrious vestments of the ecclesiastical dignitaries, and the
coarse habit and shaven crown of the monk.

Theodora was lost in wonder, so numerous and so whimsically contrasted
were these various objects. But amongst this motley assemblage there
were some who appeared more capable of interesting her heart and her
fancy. She espied those who were no sincere partakers of the general
joy, and whose sad eye and clouded brow belied the accents of their
tongue. Some, who vainly strove to animate their countenances with a
pleasure that was foreign to their hearts. The dejected and down-fallen
Moors were among these; for though they had submitted to the Christian
government, and admitted to the fullest extent the criminality of their
fellow-countrymen, yet they could not but be sensible that it was the
defeat and annihilation of their friends and former companions that
occasioned these demonstrations of joy. Besides, they felt the pangs of
shame and degradation, rendered still more poignant by a consciousness
of the superior courage of those whose destruction they were now in some
measure compelled to celebrate. To this was added the painful
conviction, that although they might outwardly be treated by the
Spaniards as fellow-subjects, no true sentiment of esteem and friendship
could be awakened in the breasts of those who must always consider them
as vanquished enemies. Besides the hatred which rankled alike in the
hearts of the followers of the Cross and those of the Crescent, a
hatred, which had been hereditary for many ages, was of itself an
insurmountable obstacle to the friendly conjunction of two such
different people. The Moors were therefore a prey to the most galling
reflections, and smarting under the bitterest disap