This precocious youth was suing for a fair girl's favor, and made Ulrich
his confidant. One day, when Moor and Sanchez's father had gone with the
king to Toledo, he took him to a balcony in the upper story of the
treasury, directly opposite to the gate-keeper's lodgings, and only
separated by a narrow court-yard from the window, where sat pretty
Carmen, the porter's handsome daughter.

The girl was always to be found here, for her father's room was very
dark, and she was compelled to embroider priestly robes from morning till
night. This pursuit brought in money, which was put to an excellent use
by the old man, who offered sacrifices to his own comfort at the cook-
shop, and enjoyed fish fried in oil with his Zamora wine. The better her
father's appetite was, the more industriously the daughter was obliged
to embroider. Only on great festivals, or when an 'Auto-da-fe' was
proclaimed, was Carmen permitted to leave the palace with her old aunt;
yet she had already found suitors. Nineteen-year-old Sanchez did not
indeed care for her hand, but merely for her love, and when it began to
grow dusk, he stationed himself on the balcony which he had discovered,
made signs to her, and flung flowers or bonbons on her table.

"She is still coy," said the young Spaniard, telling Ulrich to wait at
the narrow door, which opened upon the balcony. "There sits the angel!
Just look! I gave her the pomegranate blossom in her magnificent hair--
did you ever see more beautiful tresses? Take notice! She'll soon melt;
I know women!"

Directly after a bouquet of roses fell into the embroiderer's lap.
Carmen uttered a low cry, and perceiving Sanchez, motioned him away with
her head and hand, finally turning her back upon him.