The picturesque figures
of the dancers; the girls with their hair in silken nets that hung in
knots and tassels down their backs, their mantillas floating round
their graceful forms, their slender feet peeping from under their
basquinas, their arms tossed up in the air to play the castanets, had
a beautiful effect on this airy height, with the rich evening
landscape spreading out below them.
When the dance was ended, two of the parties approached Antonio and
Inez; one of them began a soft and tender Moorish ballad, accompanied
by the other on the lute. It alluded to the story of the garden, the
wrongs of the fair queen of Granada, and the misfortunes of the
Abencerrages. It was one of those old ballads that abound in this part
of Spain, and live, like echoes, about the ruins of Moorish greatness.
The heart of Inez was at that moment open to every tender impression;
the tears rose into her eyes, as she listened to the tale. The singer
approached nearer to her; she was striking in her appearance;--young,
beautiful, with a mixture of wildness and melancholy in her fine black
eyes. She fixed them mournfully and expressively on Inez, and,
suddenly varying her manner, sang another ballad, which treated of
impending danger and treachery.
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