Sebastian’s strenuous exertions were applied to stop the progress of this calamity: he refused to abandon his capital, confidently reposing on the protection of heaven, while engaged in the performance of a duty. Often was this youthful father of his people seen passing from house to house, to witness the execution of the orders he issued for the relief of his suffering subjects: often was he seen to weep over domestic wounds, which not even the hand of a munificent prince could heal. When the contagion had exhausted its rage, and the few remaining inhabitants awoke from their stupefaction, the King’s safety became a miracle in their eyes: and Sebastian himself, recollecting his conquest over the infidel and the tempest, believed his life preserved for some admirable purpose. It was with bitter regret that he now saw his African enterprize frustrated for awhile: his dominions wasted by sickness, and enfeebled by terror, were not capable of affording him those supplies, necessary to success; he therefore laid aside the plan, and went with his cousin Antonio, to recover from their fatigue and mortification among the romantic scenes of the prior’s residence near Crato. It was in this enchanting retreat that he was startled by a proposal from his first minister, for his marriage with a princess of France. Though Sebastian treated the idea of love (such as he saw it amongst his young courtiers,) with infinite scorn, and wondered how a man’s heart could find room for any other passion than glory, he had at this moment a confused idea, that preference at least, was necessary to make the marriage yoke pleasant, or light. He hastily caught up the miniature of the lady (which had been sent with the proposal,) and looked earnestly at it: the next instant he threw it away, exclaiming with his usual impetuosity, “’tis a peevish, _little-souled_ face, and I would not marry the original if she had all France for her dowry.” Antonio took up the picture, and eyed it with some admiration--“and pray my good, insensible cousin,” he said, “what wouldst thou have?--here is a very pretty neck, a skin like roses and lilies, a delicate mouth, tolerable eyes!--the princess is, I dare say, a charming little doll, with which a man might amuse himself very agreeably, when he had nothing else to do.” “But I shall always have something else to do,” replied Sebastian, “I cannot bear the thought of having a contemptible play-thing for a wife; yet I should despise myself were I ever to be fascinated by any woman into the servile bondage of love,--no; you must all wait _my_ time: I shall marry some day; but I swear by Heaven, not before I have combatted the infidels on their own ground.” “That is a very foolish vow,” observed Antonio, “and I’d have you recal it.”