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Updated: May 24, 2025
He had entered the Albaycin in triumph, and been hailed with rapture and proclaimed king in that populous quarter of the city. Abul Cacim Vanegas, the vizier, at the head of the royal guards had attacked the rebels, and the noise which had alarmed the king was the din of fighting in the streets and squares.
The officer chosen for this important mission was Don Juan de Vera, the same stanch and devout cavalier who in times preceding the war had borne the message from the Castilian sovereigns to old Muley Abul Hassan demanding arrears of tribute. Don Juan was received with great ceremony by the king.
Scaling the walls of the Alhambra, he threw himself with sanguinary fury into its silent courts. The sleeping inmates were roused from their repose only to fall by the exterminating scimetar. The rage of Abul Hassan spared neither age nor rank nor sex; the halls resounded with shrieks and yells, and the fountains ran red with blood.
Have you ever done evil before this night?" "My life has been clean, but the flesh is weak. It was the witchcraft of Satan in that woman's music. I prayed for strength, but I was powerless. My soul shall pay the penalty." "What sort of God is this who snares His holiest disciple, with the lusts of the flesh?" mocked Abul Malek. "Did not your prayers mount up so high?
The Caliph and his Vizier were much amused by this play of the boys, and they sat down upon a bench so conveniently placed that they could see all that went on without themselves being observed. The pretended Cadi took his seat and commanded that Abul Hassan and Ali Cogia should be brought before him. "And let Ali Cogia bring with him the jar of olives in which he said he hid the gold," said he.
Muley Abul Hassan hastened to descend to the Alhambra, confident that, ensconced in that formidable fortress, he could soon put an end to the rash commotion.
This was a town strongly posted on a steep height, by which the Moorish king would have to return. Muley Abul Hassan saw by the fires blazing on the mountains that the country was rising. He struck his tents, and pushed forward as rapidly as possible for the border; but he was encumbered with booty and with the vast cavalgada swept from the pastures of the Campina de Tarifa.
While discontent exhaled itself in murmurs among the common people, however, it fomented in dangerous conspiracies among the nobles, and Muley Abul Hassan was startled by information of a design to depose him and place his son Boabdil upon the throne.
This was a splendid structure composed of four halls in which scholars and religious men of all sects gathered together every Thursday evening and were given an opportunity to defend their creeds in the presence and with the cooperation of the Emperor. Akbar placed the discussion in charge of the wise and liberal minded Abul Fazl.
"You must not go in there. He is a bad camel, I tell you. Abul is not safe. I know him. I was his master ten years ago." "I'm only going to take off his hobbles," said the other man. "Well, do not go in like that. I used to throw a rope and tie him up before I went near him. He is a bad camel, I tell you. But I taught him his lessons."
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