The santon rushed from the royal presence, and, descending into the city, hurried through its streets and squares with frantic gesticulations.

His voice was heard in every part in awful denunciation: "The peace is broken! exterminating war is commenced.

Woe! woe! woe to Granada! its fall is at hand! desolation will dwell in its palaces; its strong men will fall beneath the sword, its children and maidens be led into captivity.

Zahara is but a type of Granada!" Terror seized upon the populace, for they considered these ravings as the inspirations of prophecy.

Some hid themselves in their dwellings as in a time of general mourning, while some gathered together in knots in the streets and squares, alarming each other with dismal forebodings and cursing the rashness and cruelty of the king.
The Moorish monarch heeded not their murmurs.