University of Virginia Library

LEGEND OF
THE ARABIAN ASTROLOGER.

In old times, many hundred years
ago, there was a Moorish king, named
Aben Habuz, who reigned over the
kingdom of Granada. He was a retired
conqueror, that is to say, one who having
in his more youthful days led a life of
constant foray and depredation, now that
he had grown feeble and superannuated,
"languished for repose," and desired
nothing more than to live at peace with
all the world, to husband his laurels, and
to enjoy in quiet the possessions he had
wrested from his neighbours.

It so happened, however, that this
most reasonable and pacific old monarch
had young rivals to deal with;
princes full of his early passion for fame
and fighting, and who were disposed to
call him to account for the scores he
had run up with their fathers. Certain
distant districts of his own territories,
also, which during the days of his vigour
he had treated with a high hand, were
prone, now that he languished for repose,
to rise in rebellion and threaten to
invest him in his capital. Thus he had
foes on every side, and as Granada is
surrounded by wild and craggy mountains,
which hide the approach of an
enemy, the unfortunate Aben Habuz was
kept in a constant state of vigilance and
alarm, not knowing in what quarter hostilities
might break out.

It was in vain that he built watchtowers
on the mountains, and stationed
guards at every pass, with orders to
make fires by night and smoke by day,
on the approach of an enemy. His alert
foes, baffling every precaution, would
break out of some unthought of defile,
ravage his lands beneath his very nose,
and then make off with prisoners and
booty to the mountains. Was ever
peaceable and retired conqueror in a
more uncomfortable predicament?

While Aben Habuz was harassed by
these perplexities and molestations, an
ancient Arabian physician arrived at his
court. His gray beard descended to his
girdle, and he had every mark of extreme
age, yet he had travelled almost
the whole way from Egypt on foot, with
no other aid than a staff, marked with
hieroglyphics. His fame had preceded
him. His name was Ibrahim Ebn Abu
Ajeeb; he was said to have lived ever
since the days of Mahomet, and to be
the son of Abu Ajeeb, the last of the
companions of the Prophet. He had,
when a child, followed the conquering
army of Amru into Egypt, where he had
remained many years studying the dark
sciences, and particularly magic, among
the Egyptian priests.

It was, moreover, said, that he had
found out the secret of prolonging life,
by means of which he had arrived to the
great age of upwards of two centuries,
though, as he did not discover the secret

until well stricken in years, he could
only perpetuate his gray hairs and
wrinkles.

This wonderful old man was honourably
entertained by the king; who, like
most superannuated monarchs, began to
take physicians into great favour. He
would have assigned him an apartment
in his palace, but the astrologer preferred
a cave on the side of the hill which
rises above the city of Granada, being
the same on which the Alhambra has
since been built. He caused the cave to
be enlarged so as form a spacious and
lofty hall, with a circular hole at the top,
through which, as through a well, he
could see the heavens and behold the
stars even at mid-day. The walls of
this hall were covered with Egyptian
hieroglyphics, with cabalistic symbols,
and with the figures of the stars in their
signs. This hall he furnished with
many implements, fabricated under his
directions by cunning artificers of Granada,
but the occult properties of which
were known only to himself.

In a little while the sage Ibrahim became
the bosom connsellor of the king,
who applied to him for advice in every
emergency. Aben Habuz was once inveighing
against the injustice of his
neighbours, and bewailing the restless
vigilance he had to observe, to guard
himself against their invasions; when
he had finished, the astrologer remained
silent for a moment, and then replied,
"Know, O king, that when I was in
Egypt I beheld a great marvel devised
by a pagan priestess of old. On a mountain,
above the city of Borsa, and overlooking
the great valley of the Nile, was
a figure of a ram, and above it a figure
of a cock, both of molten brass, and turning
upon a pivot. Whenever the country
was threatened with invasion, the ram
would turn in the direction of the enemy,
and the cock would crow; upon this the
inhabitants of the city knew of the danger,
and of the quarter from which it
was approaching, and could take timely
means to guard against it."

"God is great!" exclaimed the pacific
Aben Habuz, "what a treasure would
be such a ram to keep an eye upon these
mountains around me, and then such a
cock, to crow in time of danger! Allah
achbar! how securely I might sleep in
my palace with such sentinels on the
top!"

The astrologer waited until the ecstasies
of the king had subsided, and then
proceeded.

"After the victorious Amru (may he
rest in peace!) had finished his conquest
of Egypt, I remained among the ancient
priests of the land, studying the rites
and ceremonies of their idolatrous faith,
and seeking to make myself master of
the hidden knowledge for which they are
renowned. I was one day seated on the
banks of the Nile, conversing with an
ancient priest, when he pointed to the
mighty pyramids which rose like mountains
out of the neighbouring desert.
`All that we can teach thee,' said he, `is
nothing to the knowledge locked up in
those mighty piles. In the centre of the
central pyramid is a sepulchral chamber,
in which is enclosed the mummy of the
high priest who aided in rearing that
stupendous pile; and with him is buried
a wondrous book of knowledge, containing
all the secrets of magic and art.
This book was given to Adam after his
fall, and was handed down from generation
to generation to King Solomon the
wise, and by its aid he built the temple
of Jerusalem. How it came into the possession
of the builder of the pyramids,
is known to him alone who knows all
things.

"When I heard these words of the
Egyptian priest, my heart burned to get
possession of that book. I could command
the services of many of the soldiers
of our conquering army, and of a number
of the native Egyptians: with these
I set to work, and pierced the solid mass
of the pyramid, until, after great toil,
I came upon one of its interior and hidden
passages. Following this up, and
threading a fearful labyrinth, I penetrated
into the very heart of the pyramid,
even to the sepulchral chamber, where
the mummy of the high priest had lain
for ages. I broke through the outer
cases of the mummy, unfolded its many
wrappers and bandages, and, at length,
found the precious volume on its bosom.
I seized it with a trembling hand, and
groped my way out of the pyramid,
leaving the mummy in its dark and

silent sepulchre, there to await the final
day of resurrection and judgment."

"Son of Abu Ajeeb," exclaimed Aben
Habuz, "thou hast been a great traveller,
and seen marvellous things; but of
what avail to me is the secret of the
pyramid, and the volume of knowledge
of the wise Solomon?"

"This it is, O king! by the study of
that book I am instructed in all magic
arts, and can command the assistance of
genii to accomplish my plans. The mystery
of the Talisman of Borsa is therefore
familiar to me, and such a talisman
can I make; nay, one of greater virtues."

"O wise son of Abu Ajeeb," cried
Aben Habuz, "better were such a talisman
than all the watchtowers on the
hills, and sentinels upon the borders.
Give me such a safeguard, and the riches
of my treasury are at thy command."

The astrologer immediately set to
work to gratify the wishes of the monarch.
He caused a great tower to be
erected upon the top of the royal palace,
which stood on the brow of the hill of
the Albaycin. The tower was built of
stones brought from Egypt, and taken,
it is said, from one of the pyramids. In
the upper part of the tower was a circular
hall, with windows looking towards
every point of the compass, and before
each window was a table, on which was
arranged, as on a chess-board, a mimic
army of horse and foot, with the effigy
of the potentate that ruled in that direction,
all carved of wood. To each of
these there was a small lance, no bigger
than a bodkin, on which were engraved
certain Chaldaic characters. This hall
was kept constantly closed, by a gate of
brass, with a great lock of steel, the key
of which was in possession of the king.

On the top of the tower was a bronze
figure of a Moorish horseman, fixed on
a pivot, with a shield on one arm, and
his lance elevated perpendicularly. The
face of this horseman was towards the
city, as if keeping guard over it; but if
any foe were at hand, the figure would
turn in that direction, and would level
the lance as if for action.

When this talisman was finished,
Aben Habuz was all impatient to try its
virtues; and longed as ardently for an
invasion as he had ever sighed after repose.
His desire was soon gratified.
Tidings were brought early one morning
by the sentinel appointed to watch the
tower, that the face of the bronze horseman
was turned towards the mountains
of Elvira, and that his lance pointed directly
against the pass of Lope.

"Let the drums and trumpets sound
to arms, and all Granada be put on the
alert," said Aben Habuz.

"O king," said the astrologer, "let
not your city be disquieted, nor your
warriors called to arms; we need no aid
of force to deliver you from your enemies.
Dismiss your attendants, and let
us proceed alone to the secret hall of the
tower."

The ancient Aben Habuz mounted
the staircase of the tower, leaning on the
arm of the still more ancient Ibrahim
Ebn Abu Ajeeb. They unlocked the brazen
door, and entered. The window that
looked towards the pass of Lope was
open. "In this direction," said the astrologer,
"lies the danger; approach, O
king, and behold the mystery of the
table."

King Aben Habuz approached the
seeming chess-board, on which were arranged
the small wooden effigies, when,
to his surprise, he perceived that they
were all in motion. The horses pranced
and curveted, the warriors brandished
their weapons, and there was a faint
sound of drums and trumpets, and the
clang of arms, and neighing of steeds;
but all no louder, nor more distinct, than
the hum of the bee or the summer-fly,
in the drowsy ear of him who lies at
noontide in the shade.

"Behold, O king," said the astrologer,
"a proof that thy enemies are
even now in the field. They must be
advancing through yonder mountains,
by the passes of Lope. Would you produce
a panic and confusion amongst
them, and cause them to retreat without
loss of life, strike these effigies with the
but-end of this magic lance; but would
you cause bloody feud and carnage
among them, strike with the point."

A livid streak passed across the countenance
of the pacific Aben Habuz; he
seized the mimic lance with trembling
eagerness, and tottered towards the table,

his gray beard wagged with chuckling
exultation: "Son of Abu Ajeeb," exclaimed
he, "I think we will have a
little blood!"

So saying, he thrust the magic lance
into some of the pigmy effigies, and belaboured
others with the but-end, upon
which the former fell as dead upon the
board, and the rest, turning upon each
other, began, pellmell, a chance-medley
fight.

It was with difficulty the astrologer
could stay the hand of the most pacific
of monarchs, and prevent him from absolutely
exterminating his foes; at length
he prevailed upon him to leave the tower,
and to send out scouts to the mountains
by the pass of Lope.

They returned with the intelligence,
that a Christian army had advanced
through the heart of the Sierra, almost
within sight of Granada, where a dissension
had broken out among them; they
had turned their weapons against each
other, and after much slaughter had retreated
over the border.

Aben Habuz was transported with joy
on thus proving the efficacy of the talisman.
"At length," said he, I shall lead
a life of tranquillity, and have all my
enemies in my power. O wise son of
Abu Ajeeb, what can I bestow on thee
in reward for such a blessing?"

"The wants of an old man and a
philosopher, O king, are few and simple;
grant me but the means of fitting up my
cave as a suitable hermitage, and I am
content."

"How noble is the moderation of the
truly wise!" exclaimed Aben Habuz,
secretly pleased at the cheapness of the
recompense. He summoned his treasurer,
and bade him dispense whatever
sums might be required by Ibrahim to
complete and furnish his hermitage.

The astrologer now gave orders to
have various chambers hewn out of the
solid rock, so as to form ranges of apartments
connected with his astrological
hall; these he caused to be furnished
with luxurious ottomans and divans, and
the walls to be hung with the richest
silks of Damascus. "I am an old man,"
said he, "and can no longer rest my
bones on stone couches, and these damp
walls require covering."

He had baths too constructed, and
provided with all kinds of perfumes and
aromatic oils. "For a hath," said he,
"is necessary to counteract the rigidity
of age, and to restore freshness and suppleness
to the frame withered by study."

He caused the apartments to be hung
with innumerable silver and crystal
lamps, which he filled with a fragrant
oil, prepared according to a receipt discovered
by him in the tombs of Egypt.
This oil was perpetual in its nature,
and diffused a soft radiance like the tempered
light of day. "The light of the
sun," said he, "is too garish and violent
for the eyes of an old man, and the light
of the lamp is more congenial to the studies
of a philosopher."

The treasurer of King Aben Habuz
groaned at the sums daily demanded to
fit up this hermitage, and he carried his
complaints to the king. The royal
word, however, was given; Aben Habuz
shrugged his shoulders. "We must
have patience," said he, "this old man
has taken his idea of a philosophic retreat
from the interior of the pyramids,
and of the vast ruins of Egypt; but all
things have an end, and so will the furnishing
of his cavern."

The king was in the right, the hermitage
was at length complete, and
formed a sumptuous subterranean palace.
"I am now content," said Ibrahim
Ebn Abu Ajeeb to the treasurer, "I will
shut myself up in my cell, and devote
my time to study. I desire nothing more,
nothing except a trifling solace, to amuse
me at the intervals of mental labour."

"O wise Ibrahim, ask what thou wilt,
I am bound to furnish all that is necessary
for thy solitude."

"I would fain have then a few dancing
women," said the philosopher.

"Dancing women!" echoed the treasurer
with surprise.

"Dancing women," replied the sage
gravely; "a few will suffice, for I am
an old man, and a philosopher, of simple
habits, and easily satisfied. Let them,
however, be young, and fair to look
upon; for the sight of youth and beauty
is refreshing to old age."

While the philosopher, Ibrahim Ebn
Abu Ajeeb, passed his time thus sagely
in his hermitage, the pacific Aben Habuz

carried on furious campaigns in effigy in
his tower. It was a glorious thing for
an old man, like himself, of quiet habits,
to have war made easy, and to be enabled
to amuse himself in his chamber
by brushing away whole armies like so
many swarms of flies.

For a time he rioted in the indulgence
of his humours, and even taunted and
insulted his neighbours, to induce them
to make incursions; but by degrees they
grew wary from repeated disasters, until
no one ventured to invade his territories.
For many months the bronze horseman
remained on the peace establishment with
his lance elevated in the air, and the
worthy old monarch began to repine at
the want of his accustomed sport, and to
grow peevish at his monotonous tranquillity.

At length, one day, the talismanic
horseman veered suddenly round, and
lowering his lance, made a dead point
towards the mountains of Guadix. Aben
Habuz hastened to his tower, but the
magic table in that direction remained
quiet; not a single warrior was in motion.
Perplexed at the circumstance, he
sent forth a troop of horse to scour the
mountains and reconnoitre. They returned
after three days' absence.

"We have searched every mountain
pass," said they, "but not a helm or
spear was stirring. All that we have found
in the course of our foray, was a Christian
damsel of surpassing beauty, sleeping
at noontide beside a fountain, whom
we have brought away captive."

"A damsel of surpassing beauty!"
exclaimed Aben Habuz, his eyes gleaming
with animation; "let her be conducted
into my presence."

The beautiful damsel was accordingly
conducted into his presence. She was
arrayed with all the luxury of ornament
that had prevailed among the Gothic
Spaniards at the time of the Arabian
conquest. Pearls of dazzling whiteness
were entwined with her raven tresses;
and jewels sparkled on her forehead,
rivalling the lustre of her eyes. Around
her neck was a golden chain, to which
was suspended a silver lyre, which hung
by her side.

The flashes of her dark refulgent eye
were like sparks of fire on the withered,
yet combustible, heart of Aben Habuz;
the swimming voluptuousness of her gait
made his senses reel. "Fairest of women,"
cried he, with rapture, "who and
what art thou!"

"The daughter of one of the Gothic
princes, who but lately ruled over this
land. The armies of my father have
been destroyed as if by magic, among
these mountains; he has been driven
into exile, and his daughter is a captive."

"Beware, O king!" whispered Ibrahim
Ebn Abu Ajeeb, "this may be one
of those Northern sorceresses of whom
we have heard, who assume the most
seductive forms to beguile the unwary.
Methinks I read witchcraft in her eye,
and sorcery in every movement. Doubtless
this is the enemy pointed out by the
talisman."

"Son of Abu Ajeeb," replied the king,
"thou art a wise man, I grant, a conjuror
for aught I know; but thou art little
versed in the ways of woman. In that
knowledge will I yield to no man; no,
not the wise Solomon himself, notwithstanding
the number of his wives
and concubines. As to this damsel, I
see no harm in her, she is fair to look
upon, and finds favour in my eyes."

"Hearken, O king!" replied the astrologer.
"I have given thee many victories
by means of my talisman, but
have never shared any of the spoil.
Give me then this stray captive, to solace
me in my solitude with her silver lyre.
If she be indeed a sorceress, I have
counter spells that set her charms at
defiance."

"What! more women!" cried Aben
Habuz. "Hast thou not already dancing
women enough to solace thee?"

"Dancing women have I, it is true,
but no singing women. I would fain
have a little minstrelsy to refresh my
mind when weary with the toils of
study."

"A truce with thy hermit cravings,"
said the king, impatiently. "This damsel
have I marked for my own. I see much
comfort in her; even such comfort as
David, the father of Solomon the wise,
found in the society of Abishag the
Shunamite."

Further solicitations and remonstrances
of the astrologer only provoked a more

peremptory reply from the monarch, and
they parted in high displeasure. The
sage shut himself up in his hermitage to
brood over his disappointment; ere he
departed, however, he gave the king one
more warning to beware of his dangerous
captive. But where is the old man in
love that will listen to council? Aben
Habuz resigned himself to the full sway
of his passion. His only study was how
to render himself amiable in the eyes of
the Gothic beauty. He had not youth
to recommend him, it is true, but then
he had riches; and when a lover is old,
he is generally generous. The Zacatin
of Granada was ransacked for the most
precious merchandise of the East; silks,
jewels, precious gems, exquisite perfumes,
all that Asia and Africa yielded of rich
and rare, were lavished upon the princess.
All kinds of spectacles and festivities
were devised for her entertainment;
minstrelsy, dancing, tournaments, bullfights;
Granada, for a time, was a scene
of perpetual pageant. The Gothic princess
regarded all this splendour with the
air of one accustomed to magnificence.
She received every thing as a homage
due to her rank, or rather to her beauty,
for beauty is more lofty in its exactions
even than rank. Nay, she seemed to
take a secret pleasure in exciting the
monarch to expenses that made his treasury
shrink; and then treating his extravagant
generosity as a mere matter of
course. With all his assiduity and munificence,
also, the venerable lover could
not flatter himself that he had made any
impression on her heart. She never
frowned on him, it is true, but then she
never smiled. Whenever he began to
plead his passion, she struck her silver
lyre. There was a mystic charm in the
sound. In an instant the monarch began
to nod; a drowsiness stole over him, and
he gradually sank into a sleep, from
which he awoke wonderfully refreshed,
but perfectly cooled, for the time, of his
passion. This was very baffling to his
suit; but then these slumbers were accompanied
by agreeable dreams, that
completely enthralled the senses of the
drowsy lover; so he continued to dream
on, while all Granada scoffed at his infatuation,
and groaned at the treasures
lavished for a song.

At length a danger burst on the head
of Aben Habuz, against which his talisman
yielded him no warning. An insurrection
broke out in his very capital;
his palace was surrounded by an armed
rabble, who menaced his life and the life
of his Christian paramour. A spark of
his ancient warlike spirit was awakened
in the breast of the monarch. At the
head of a handful of his guards he sallied
forth, put the rebels to flight, and crushed
the insurrection in the bud.

When quiet was again restored, he
sought the astrologer, who still remained
shut up in his hermitage, chewing the
bitter end of resentment.

Aben Habuz approached him with a
conciliatory tone. "O wise son of Abu
Ajeeb," said he, "well didst thou predict
dangers to me from this captive beauty:
tell me then, thou who art so quick at
foreseeing peril, what I should do to
avert it."

"Put from thee the infidel damsel who
is the cause."

"Sooner would I part with my kingdom,"
cried Aben Habuz.

"Thou art in danger of losing both,"
replied the astrologer.

"Be not harsh and angry, O most
profound of philosophers; consider the
double distress of a monarch and a lover,
and devise some means of protecting me
from the evils by which I am menaced.
I care not for grandeur, I care not for
power, I languish only for repose; would
that I had some quiet retreat where I
might take refuge from the world, and
all its cares, and pomps, and troubles,
and devote the remainder of my days to
tranquillity and love."

The astrologer regarded him for a
moment, from under his bushy eyebrows.

"And what wouldst thou give, if I
could provide thee such a retreat?"

"Thou shouldst name thy own reward,
and whatever it might be, if within
the scope of my power, as my soul liveth,
it should be thine."

"Thou hast heard, O king, of the
Garden of Irem, one of the prodigies of
Arabia the Happy."

"I have heard of that garden; it is
recorded in the Koran, even in the chapter
entitled `The Dawn of Day.' I have,

moreover, heard marvellous things related
of it by pilgrims who had been to
Mecca; but I consider them wild fables,
such as travellers are wont to tell who
have visited remote countries."

"Discredit not, O king, the tales of
travellers," rejoined the astrologer gravely,
"for they contain precious rarities of
knowledge brought from the ends of the
earth. As to the Palace and Garden of
Irem, what is generally told of them is
true; I have seen them with mine own
eyes—listen to my adventure; for it has
a bearing upon the object of your request.

"In my younger days, when a mere
Arab of the desert, I tended my father's
camels. In traversing the Desert of
Aden, one of them strayed from the
rest, and was lost. I searched after it
for several days, but in vain, until wearied
and faint, I laid myself down one
noontide, and slept under a palm tree by
the side of a scanty well. When I
awoke, I found myself at the gate of a
city. I entered, and beheld noble streets,
and squares, and market-places; but all
were silent and without an inhabitant. I
wandered on until I came to a sumptuous
palace with a garden, adorned with fountains
and fish-ponds, and groves and
flowers, and orchards laden with delicious
fruit; but still no one was to be
seen. Upon which, appalled at this loneliness,
I hastened to depart; and, after
issuing forth at the gate of the city, I
turned to look upon the place, but it was
no longer to be seen, nothing but the
silent desert extended before my eyes.

"In the neighbourhood I met with an
aged dervise, learned in the traditions
and secrets of the land, and related to
him what had befallen me. `This,' said
he, `is the far-famed Garden of Irem, one
of the wonders of the desert. It only
appears at times to some wanderer like
thyself, gladdening him with the sight of
towers and palaces, and garden walls
overhung with richly laden fruit trees,
and then vanishes, leaving nothing but a
lonely desert. And this is the story of
it. In old times, when this country was
inhabited by the Addites, King Sheddad,
the son of Ad, the great grandson of
Noah, founded here a splendid city.
When it was finished, and he saw its
grandeur, his heart was puffed up with
pride and arrogance, and he determined
to build a royal palace, with gardens
that should rival all that was related in
the Koran of the celestial paradise. But
the curse of Heaven fell upon him for
his presumption. He and his subjects
were swept from the earth, and his
splendid city, and palace, and gardens,
were laid under a perpetual spell, that
hides them from the human sight, excepting
that they are seen at intervals,
by way of keeping his sin in perpetual
remembrance.'

"This story, O king, and the wonders
I had seen, ever dwelt in my mind; and
in after years, when I had been in
Egypt, and was possessed of the book
of knowledge of Solomon the wise, I
determined to return and revisit the Garden
of Irem. I did so, and found it
revealed to my instructed sight. I took
possession of the palace of Sheddad, and
passed several days in his mock paradise.
The genii who watch over the
place, were obedient to my magic power,
and revealed to me the spells by which
the whole garden had been, as it were,
conjured into existence, and by which it
was rendered invisible. Such a palace
and garden, O king, can I make for
thee, even here, on the mountain above
the city. Do I not know all the secret
spells? and am I not in possession of
the book of knowledge of Solomon the
wise?"

"O wise son of Abu Ajeeb!" exclaimed
Aben Habuz, trembling with
eagerness, "thou art a traveller indeed,
and hast seen and learnt marvellous
things! Contrive me such a paradise,
and ask any reward, even to the half of
my kingdom."

"Alas!" replied the other, "thou
knowest I am an old man, and a philosopher,
and easily satisfied; all the reward
I ask is the first beast of burden, with its
load, that shall enter the magic portal of
the palace."

The monarch gladly agreed to so
moderate a stipulation, and the astrologer
began his work. On the summit of the
hill, immediately above his subterranean
hermitage, he caused a great gateway or
barbacan to be erected, opening through
the centre of a strong tower.

There was an outer vestibule or porch,
with a lofty arch, and within it a portal
secured by massive gates. On the keystone
of the portal the astrologer, with
his own hand, wrought the figure of a
huge key; and on the keystone of the
outer arch of the vestibule, which was
loftier than that of the portal, he carved
a gigantic hand. These were potent
talismans, over which he repeated many
sentences in an unknown tongue.

When this gateway was finished, he
shut himself up for two days in his astrological
hall, engaged in secret incantations;
on the third he ascended the hill,
and passed the whole day on its summit.
At a late hour of the night he came
down, and presented himself before Aben
Habuz. "At length, O king," said he,
"my labour is accomplished. On the
summit of the hill stands one of the most
delectable palaces that ever the head of
man devised, or the heart of man desired.
It contains sumptuous halls and galleries,
delicious gardens, cool fountains, and fragrant
baths: in a word, the whole mountain
is converted into a paradise. Like
the Garden of Irem, it is protected by a
mighty charm, which hides it from the
view and search of mortals, excepting
such as possess the secret of its talismans."

"Enough!" cried Aben Habuz joyfully,
"to-morrow morning with the first
light we will ascend and take possession."

The happy monarch slept but little that
night. Scarcely had the rays of the sun
begun to play about the snowy summit of
the Sierra Nevada, when he mounted his
steed, and, accompanied only by a few
chosen attendants, ascended a steep and
narrow road leading up the hill. Beside
him, on a white palfrey, rode the Gothic
princess, her whole dress sparkling with
jewels, while round her neck was suspended
her silver lyre. The astrologer
walked on the other side of the king,
assisting his steps with his hieroglyphic
staff, for he never mounted steed of any
kind.

Aben Habuz looked to see the towers
of the palace brightening above him, and
the embowered terraces of its gardens
stretching along the heights; but as yet
nothing of the kind was to be descried.
"That is the mystery and safeguard of
the place," said the astrologer, "nothing
can be discerned until you have passed
the spellbound gateway, and been put in
possession of the place."

As they approached the gateway, the
astrologer paused, and pointed out to the
king the mystic hand and key carved
upon the portal and the arch. "These,"
said he, "are the talismans which guard
the entrance to this paradise. Until
yonder hand shall reach down and seize
that key, neither mortal power nor magic
artifice can prevail against the lord of this
mountain."

While Aben Habuz was gazing with
open mouth, and silent wonder, at these
mystic talismans, the palfrey of the
princess proceeded, and bore her in at
the portal, to the very centre of the barbacan.

"Behold," cried the astrologer, "my
promised reward; the first animal with
its burthen that should enter the magic
gateway."

Aben Habuz smiled at what he considered
a pleasantry of the ancient man;
but when he found him to be in earnest,
his gray beard trembled with indignation.

"Son of Abu Ajeeb," said he, sternly,
"what equivocation is this? Thou
knowest the meaning of my promise:
the first beast of burthen, with its load,
that should enter this portal. Take the
strongest mule in my stables, load it with
the most precious things of my treasury,
and it is thine; but dare not to raise thy
thoughts to her who is the delight of my
heart."

"What need I of wealth," cried the
astrologer, scornfully; "have I not the
book of knowledge of Solomon the wise,
and through it the command of the secret
treasures of the earth? The princess is
mine by right; thy royal word is pledged;
I claim her as my own."

The princess looked down haughtily
from her palfrey, and a light smile of scorn
curled her rosy lip at this dispute between
two graybeards for the possession of
youth and beauty. The wrath of the
monarch got the better of his discretion.
"Base son of the desert," cried he, "thou
may'st be master of many arts, but know
me for thy master, and presume not to
juggle with thy king."

"My master!" echoed the astrologer,
"my king! The monarch of a mole-hill
to claim sway over him who possesses
the talismans of Solomon! Farewell,
Aben Habuz; reign over thy petty kingdom,
and revel in thy paradise of fools;
for me, I will laugh at thee in my philosophic
retirement."

So saying, he seized the bridle of the
palfrey, smote the earth with his staff,
and sank with the Gothic princess through
the centre of the barbacan. The earth
closed over them, and no trace remained
of the opening by which they had descended.

Aben Habuz was struck dumb for a
time with astonishment. Recovering
himself, he ordered a thousand workmen
to dig, with pickaxe and spade, into the
ground where the astrologer had disappeared.
They digged and digged, but in
vain; the flinty bosom of the hill resisted
their implements; or if they did penetrate
a little way, the earth filled in again as
fast as they threw it out. Aben Habuz
sought the mouth of the cavern at the
foot of the hill, leading to the subterranean
palace of the astrologer: but it
was no where to be found. Where once
had been an entrance, was now a solid
surface of primeval rock. With the disappearance
of Ibrahim Ebn Abu Ajeeb,
ceased the benefit of his talismans. The
bronze horseman remained fixed, with his
face towards the hill, and his spear pointed
to the spot where the astrologer had
descended, as if there still lurked the
deadliest foe of Aben Habuz.

From time to time the sound of music,
and the tones of a female voice, could be
faintly heard from the bosom of the hill;
and a peasant one day brought word to
the king, that in the preceding night he
had found a fissure in the rock, by which
he had crept in until he looked down into
a subterranean hall, in which sat the
astrologer, on a magnificent divan, slumbering
and nodding to the silver lyre of
the princess, which seemed to hold a
magic sway over his senses.

Aben Habuz sought the fissure in the
rock, but it was again closed. He renewed
the attempt to unearth his rival,
but all in vain. The spell of the hand
and key was too potent to be counteracted
by human power. As to the
summit of the mountain, the site of the
promised palace and garden, it remained
a naked waste; either the boasted elysium
was hidden from sight by enchantment,
or was a mere fable of the astrologer.
The world charitably supposed the latter,
and some used to call the place, "The
King's Folly;" while others named it,
"The Fool's Paradise."

To add to the chagrin of Aben Habuz,
the neighbours whom he had defied and
taunted, and cut up at his leisure while
master of the talismanic horseman, finding
him no longer protected by magic
spell, made inroads into his territories
from all sides, and the remainder of the
life of the most pacific of monarchs, was
a tissue of turmoils.

At length Aben Habuz died, and was
buried. Ages have since rolled away.
The Alhambra has been built on the
eventful mountain, and in some measure
realizes the fabled delights of the Garden
of Irem. The spellbound gateway still
exists entire, protected no doubt by the
mystic hand and key, and now forms the
Gate of Justice, the grand entrance to the
fortress. Under that gateway, it is said,
the old astrologer remains in his subterranean
hall, nodding on his divan, lulled
by the silver lyre of the princess.

The old invalid sentinels who mount
guard at the gate, hear the strains occasionally
in the summer nights; and yielding
to their soporific power, doze quietly
at their posts. Nay, so drowsy an influence
pervades the place, that even those
who watch by day may generally be
seen nodding on the stone benches of the
barbacan, or sleeping under the neighbouring
trees; so that in fact it is the
drowsiest military post in all Christendom.
All this, say the ancient legends,
will endure from age to age. The princess
will remain captive to the astrologer,
and the astrologer bound up in magic
slumber by the princess, until the last
day, unless the mystic hand shall grasp
the fated key, and dispel the whole charm
of this enchanted mountain.