Leila | Page 8

and rather suited to the thick and
cave-like architecture which of old protected the inhabitants of Thebes
and Memphis from the rays of the African sun, than to the transparent
heaven and light pavilions of the graceful orientals of Granada.
Leila stood within this chamber, pale and breathless, with her lips apart,
her hands clasped, her very soul in her ears; nor was it possible to
conceive a more perfect ideal of some delicate and brilliant Peri,
captured in the palace of a hostile and gloomy Genius. Her form was of
the lightest shape consistent with the roundness of womanly beauty;
and there was something in it of that elastic and fawnlike grace which a
sculptor seeks to embody in his dreams of a being more aerial than
those of earth. Her luxuriant hair was dark indeed, but a purple and

glossy hue redeemed it from that heaviness of shade too common in the
tresses of the Asiatics; and her complexion, naturally pale but clear and
lustrous, would have been deemed fair even in the north. Her features,
slightly aquiline, were formed in the rarest mould of symmetry, and her
full rich lips disclosed teeth that might have shamed the pearl. But the
chief charm of that exquisite countenance was in an expression of
softness and purity, and intellectual sentiment, that seldom
accompanies that cast of loveliness, and was wholly foreign to the
voluptuous and dreamy languor of Moorish maidens; Leila had been
educated, and the statue had received a soul.
After a few minutes of intense suspense, she again stole to the lattice,
gently unclosed it, and looked forth. Far, through an opening amidst the
trees, she descried for a single moment the erect and stately figure of
her lover, darkening the moonshine on the sward, as now, quitting his
fruitless search, he turned his lingering gaze towards the lattice of his
beloved: the thick and interlacing foliage quickly hid him from her eyes;
but Leila had seen enough--she turned within, and said, as grateful tears
trickled clown her cheeks, and she sank on her knees upon the piled
cushions of the chamber: "God of my fathers! I bless Thee--he is safe!"
"And yet (she added, as a painful thought crossed her), how may I pray
for him? we kneel not to the same Divinity; and I have been taught to
loathe and shudder at his creed! Alas! how will this end? Fatal was the
hour when he first beheld me in yonder gardens; more fatal still the
hour in which he crossed the barrier, and told Leila that she was
beloved by the hero whose arm was the shelter, whose name is the
blessing, of Granada. Ah, me! Ah, me!"
The young maiden covered her face with her hands, and sank into a
passionate reverie, broken only by her sobs. Some time had passed in
this undisturbed indulgence of her grief, when the arras was gently put
aside, and a man, of remarkable garb and mien, advanced into the
chamber, pausing as he beheld her dejected attitude, and gazing on her
with a look on which pity and tenderness seemed to struggle against
habitual severity and sternness.
"Leila!" said the intruder.

Leila started, and and a deep blush suffused her countenance; she
dashed the tears from her eyes, and came forward with a vain attempt
to smile.
"My father, welcome!"
The stranger seated himself on the cushions, and motioned Leila to his
side.
"These tears are fresh upon thy cheek," said he, gravely; "they are the
witness of thy race! our daughters are born to weep, and our sons to
groan! ashes are on the head of the mighty, and the Fountains of the
Beautiful run with gall! Oh that we could but struggle--that we could
but dare--that we could raise up, our heads, and unite against the
bondage of the evil doer! It may not be--but one man shall avenge a
nation!"
The dark face of Leila's father, well fitted to express powerful emotion,
became terrible in its wrath and passion; his brow and lip worked
convulsively; but the paroxsym was brief; and scarce could she shudder
at its intensity ere it had subsided into calm.
"Enough of these thoughts, which thou, a woman and a child, art not
formed to witness. Leila, thou hast been nurtured with tenderness, and
schooled with care. Harsh and unloving may I have seemed to thee, but
I would have shed the best drops of my heart to have saved thy young
years from a single pang. Nay, listen to me silently. That thou mightest
one day be worthy of thy race, and that thine hours might not pass in
indolent and weary lassitude, thou hast been taught lessons of a
knowledge rarely to thy sex. Not thine the lascivious arts of the