"And better hadst thou left the ill-omened son that thy womb conceived,
to die thus in youth, honoured and lamented, than to live to manhood,
wrestling against an evil star and a relentless fate."

"Son," said the queen, gazing upon him with lofty and half disdainful
compassion, "men's conduct shapes out their own fortunes, and the unlucky
are never the valiant and the wise."

"Madam," said Boabdil, colouring with passion, "I am still a king, nor
will I be thus bearded--withdraw!"

Ere the queen could reply, a eunuch entered, and whispered Boabdil.

"Ha!" said he, joyfully, stamping his foot, "comes he then to brave the
lion in his den? Let the rebel look to it. Is he alone?"

"Alone, great king."

"Bid my guards wait without; let the slightest signal summon them.
Amine, retire! Madam--"

"Son!" interrupted Ayxa la Horra in visible agitation, "do I guess
aright? is the brave Muza--the sole bulwark and hope of Granada--whom
unjustly thou wouldst last night have placed in chains--(chains! Great
Prophet! is it thus a king should reward his heroes)--is, I say, Muza
here? and wilt thou make him the victim of his own generous trust?"

"Retire, woman?" said Boabdil, sullenly.

"I will not, save by force! I resisted a fiercer soul than thine when I