Moors and Jews, Jews and
Moors! Oh my poor sins, my poor sins, that brought me to live
amongst them! -
"'Ave Maris stella,
Dei Mater alma,
Atque semper virgo,
Felix coeli porta!'"
He was proceeding in this manner when I was startled by the sound
of a musket.
"That is the retreat," said Pascual Fava. "It is fired every night
in the soc at half-past eight, and it is the signal for suspending
all business, and shutting up. I am now going to close the doors,
and whosoever knocks, I shall not admit them till I know their
voice. Since the murder of the poor Genoese last year, we have all
been particularly cautious."
Thus had passed Friday, the sacred day of the Moslems, and the
first which I had spent in Tangier. I observed that the Moors
followed their occupations as if the day had nothing particular in
it. Between twelve and one, the hour of prayer in the mosque, the
gates of the town were closed, and no one permitted either to enter
or go out. There is a tradition, current amongst them, that on
this day, and at this hour, their eternal enemies, the Nazarenes,
will arrive to take possession of their country; on which account
they hold themselves prepared against a surprisal.
Footnote:
{0} "Om Frands Gonzales, og Rodrik Cid.
End siunges i Sierra Murene!"
Kronike Riim.
