“By the Virgin!” cried Federico, “I am neither of wood nor stone. Yes, there are creatures of heavenly beauty whom I could love. But I am like the Moorish Prince of Granada, who was too proud to eat common food, and fed on gold. The metal was over-hard for his royal stomach, and so he starved.”
“Which means that what you could have, you don’t like, and what you would like, you can’t get.”
“Possible,” replied Federico, smiling. “I strike high.”
“And why not? To dare is often to succeed. For the bold and the prudent no aim is too lofty. But tell me more.”
“Nonsense!” cried the student. “I did but jest. It occurred to me that this very day I saw a lady whose fair face I shall not easily forget. She was richly dressed, and sat in an open carriage, drawn by magnificent horses.”
“What colour was the carriage?”
“Brown, lined with purple velvet. The arms on the panels were supported by coroneted griffins; and on the luxurious cushions my goddess reclined, in a robe of rose-coloured satin. A black lace mantilla floated over her alabaster shoulders, further veiled by a cloud of glossy ebon hair; and her eyes, friend Geronimo, her beauteous eyes—they were soft and heavenly as a spring day in the almond groves of Valencia.”
“You are poetical,” said Regato. “A good sign. Federico, you are in love; but, by our Lady, you are audacious in your choice.”
“Do you know her?” eagerly exclaimed Federico.