the balcony.

"Ah, Leila!" said the Moor, "I see thee, and I am blessed!"

"Hush!" answered Leila; "speak low, nor tarry long I fear that our
interviews are suspected; and this," she added in a trembling voice,
"may perhaps be the last time we shall meet."

"Holy Prophet!" exclaimed Muza, passionately, "what do I hear? Why this
mystery? why cannot I learn thine origin, thy rank, thy parents? Think
you, beautiful Leila, that Granada holds a rouse lofty enough to disdain
the alliance with Muza Ben Abil Gazan? and oh!" he added (sinking the
haughty tones of his voice into accents of the softest tenderness),
"if not too high to scorn me, what should war against our loves and our
bridals? For worn equally on my heart were the flower of thy sweet self,
whether the mountain top or the valley gave birth to the odour and the
bloom."

"Alas!" answered Leila, weeping, "the mystery thou complainest of is as
dark to myself as thee. How often have I told thee that I know nothing
of my birth or childish fortunes, save a dim memory of a more distant and
burning clime; where, amidst sands and wastes, springs the everlasting
cedar, and the camel grazes on stunted herbage withering in the fiery
air? Then, it seemed to me that I had a mother: fond eyes looked on me,
and soft songs hushed me into sleep."

"Thy mother's soul has passed into mine," said the Moor, tenderly.

Leila continued:--"Borne hither, I passed from childhood into youth
within these walls. Slaves ministered to my slightest wish; and those