The voices of many singers
drew their eyes to the banks of the river, where they saw all the
washerwomen of the city, collected in pursuit of their calling, and
lightening their labors with song, the burden of which, "Guadiana,
Guadiana," fell often on the ear, while the sun-beams bleached the
linen spread out on the banks of the stream, and tanned the faces of
the industrious choir chanting its praise.
"This, then, is the Guadiana!" said Lady Mabel, peeping over the
parapet. "I feel bound to admire its broad face, but miss the swift
current and pellucid waters of the poetasters, to whose bounties the
river god owes much of his fame."
"While you and our party loiter here, searching out the beauties of
the Guadiana," said L'Isle, "I will ride on and secure our peaceful
reception at the gate. A Spanish sentinel is often asleep, and apt to
prove his vigilance by firing on whoever wakes him up."
Presently following L'Isle, who luckily found the sentinel awake, they
reached the southern end of the bridge, and passing between two
beautiful round towers of white marble, now tinted straw-color with
age, they entered the northern gate of the city, and soon sought
hospitality at the _Posada de los Caballeros_.
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