I recall the slightly tilted row of the neat paper copies; and I wish I
knew who it was liked to read them. The Spanish have a fondness for such
dangerous ground; from some of their novels it appears they feel it
rather chic to venture on it.
IX
We came away from Cordova with a pretty good conscience as to its
sights. Upon the whole we were glad they were so few, when once we had
made up our minds about the mosque. But now I have found too late that
we ought to have visited the general market in the old square where the
tournaments used to take place; we ought to have seen also the Chapel of
the Hospital del Cardenal, because it was part of the mosque of
Al-Manssour; we ought to have verified the remains of two baths out of
the nine hundred once existing in the Calle del Bagno Alta; and we ought
finally to have visited the remnant of a Moorish house in the Plazuela
de San Nicolas, with its gallery of jasper columns, now unhappily
whitewashed. The Campo Santo has an unsatisfied claim upon my interest
because it was the place where the perfervid Christian zealots used to
find the martyrdom they sought at the hands of the unwilling Arabs; and
where, far earlier, Julius Caesar planted a plane tree after his victory
over the forces of Pompeii at Munda.
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