CHAPTER IV.
OUR RETURN TO CORDOVA.
CORDOVA AT DAY-BREAK.—THE MOHAMMEDAN SABBATH.—THE YOUTH OF CORDOVA DISPORTS ITSELF UPON THE WATER.—SONG.—CHALLENGE BETWEEN OARSMAN.—THE MUEZZIN'S CALL.—THE GREAT MOSQUE.—A SERMON.—CHASDAI IBN SHAPRUT, THE JEWISH MINISTER TO THE CALIPH.—DUNASH IBN LABRAT.—ON THE WAY TO ABDALLAH IBN XAMRI, THE MOORISH POET.
Again our light-winged boat glides upon the broad and silvery bosom of the majestic Guadalquiver, along parks filled with flowering shrubs, along glittering palaces and song-resounding woods, along palmy islets, and sweet scented and crimson-tinted hills.
It is an early spring morning, nearly 1,000 years back in the world's history. Our boat makes a sudden turn, and Cordova, all glistening in the morning dew, raises her head as if from a bath in the crystal stream. Aurora, goddess of the dawn, blushes in the sky, and with her rosy fingers she sports playfully with the golden tresses of Andalusia's fairest daughter. It is morn,
"When the magic of daylight awakes
A new wonder each moment, as slowly it breaks;
Hills, cupolas, fountains, called forth everyone