Felicia Hemans

“ Ere we can rise above them!
(Sebastian enters.)
Seb.—How my steps
Turn to their well-known haunts—and yet I seek
A home no longer, but a solitude,
Where a proud heart, in its dark hour of conflict,
May find free scope to breathe!—Who comes?—'tis he
Who lov'd me once—No! seem'd to love me once,
E'en as a son. ”

“ That name hath lost its meaning. Will the dead
Rise from their silent dwellings, to upbraid
The living for their mirth?—The grave sets bounds
Unto all human friendship.
Seb.—On the plain
Of Alcazar, full many a stately flower,
The pride and crown of some high house, was laid
Low in the dust of Afric; but of these
Sebastian was not one.
Syl.—I am not skill'd
To deal with men of mystery. Take thou off
The strange dark scrutiny of thine eyes from mine.
What mean'st thou? Speak!
Seb.—Sebastian died not there.
—I read no joy in that cold doubting mien. ”

“ Oh! leave it not! for brighter days e'en yet
May dawn upon our mountains.
Fran.—Little knows
The stranger, gazing on our sunny heavens,
How man's desponding heart may sink and die,
Beneath the glorious light wherein our vines
Are purpling to luxuriance!—'Tis not now
The time for hope, but patience. Yet if still
Sebastian lives, I will not bid farewell
Unto his ruin'd land. ”

“ But Nature is all joy!—She spurns decay
And desolation from her, and doth make
All changes but the ministers of her cup,
Crown'd high with youth and glory. I shall sleep
Beneath the green sward of the stranger's land ”

“ Exit Sebastian with Zamor and Gonzalez.
2d Cit.—He wears the mien
Of one that hath commanded, yet his looks
And words were strangely wild.
1st Cit.—Mark'd you his fierce
And haughty gesture, and the flash that broke
From his dark eye, when King Sebastian's name
Became our theme?
2d Cit.—Trust me, there's more in this
Than may be lightly said. These are no times
To breathe men's thoughts i' th' open face of Heaven
And ear of multitudes. They that would speak
Of monarchs and their deeds, should keep within
Their quiet homes. ”

“ Again!
1st Cit.—I said the king,
Philip of Spain, and now of Portugal,
This morning enter'd, with a conqueror's train,
Our city's royal palace, and for this
We hold our festival.
Seb.—Thou said'st—the king!
His name?—I heard it not.
Cits. Philip of Spain.
Seb.—Philip of Spain!—We slumber, till arous'd
By th' earthquake's bursting shock!—Hath there not fall'n
A sudden darkness?—All things seem to float
Obscurely round me!—Now 'tis past. The streets
Are blazing with strange fire. Go, quench those lamps ”