thy people and thy crown. The fall of Granada is predestined; God is
great!"

"You shall have my answer forthwith," said Boabdil. "Abdelemic,
approach."

From the crowd came an aged and white-bearded man, the governor of the
city.

"Speak, old man," said the king.

"Oh, Boabdil!" said the veteran, with faltering tones, while the tears
rolled down his cheeks; "son of a race of kings and heroes! would that
thy servant had fallen dead on thy threshold this day, and that the lips
of a Moorish noble had never been polluted by the words that I now utter!
Our state is hopeless; our granaries are as the sands of the desert:
there is in them life neither for beast nor man. The war-horse that bore
the hero is now consumed for his food; the population of thy city, with
one voice, cry for chains and--bread! I have spoken."

"Admit the Ambassador of Egypt," said Boabdil, as Abdelmelic retired.
There was a pause: one of the draperies at the end of the hall was drawn
aside; and with the slow and sedate majesty of their tribe and land,
paced forth a dark and swarthy train, the envoys of the Egyptian soldan.
Six of the band bore costly presents of gems and weapons, and the
procession closed with four veiled slaves, whose beauty had been the
boast of the ancient valley of the Nile.

"Sun of Granada and day--star of the faithful!" said the chief of the
Egyptians, "my lord, the Soldan of Egypt, delight of the world, and rose-