“Never!” exclaimed the King, “never!” (and while he spoke, his eyes lightened with youthful ardour) “you know my character Antonio; it is formed of tougher materials than yours, it does not easily bend even to necessity. Though our exhausted country now is fainting before us, she will revive, she will recover; and then, strong in a divine cause, conscious of no motive beyond the love of mankind, (whose bodies these accursed Mahometans torture in slavery, and whose souls they draw into everlasting perdition,) I will advance under the banner of the cross, confident of victory.--What is it I seek?--not dominion, not power, nor the mere name of conqueror? I combat for the _eternal_ good of the human race: I pant after no earthly honour; except indeed the proud distinction of having extirpated the enemies of Christ.” “That is all, very admirable, and very true, my royal cousin,” replied the prior, “but as neither priests nor laymen can pretend to read the will of Heaven, we must not be quite so confident of success, at least you should conceive the possibility of your being ordained, (which God forbid!) to fall in the very moment of triumph, purchasing with your blood the saintly distinction to which you aspire.” The young King who was traversing the apartment, turned quickly round at this; transported with the dazzling thought his enthusiastic spirit blazed on his face; he looked at his cousin with rapture. “Such a death!--Antonio, would you not envy such a death?” “Not in the least,” replied the prior gaily, “you must excuse me if I pray for a very different end for us both.--But if _you_ are bent upon thus expiring like the Phœnix amidst the cloves and cinnamon of glory, suffer me to remind you, that Portugal will then have reason to lament the princess of France’s peevish countenance, and her monarch’s imprudent vow.” Sebastian was struck with the observation: after a pause he said, “you are right; yet I am not inclined to retract. While I study the happiness of my people, surely it is not required of me to sacrifice my own?--Though at this instant, I could contentedly take the vow of celibacy to please them (if that were necessary for any good purpose,) I do not find in myself a disposition to embitter my domestic life merely for the sake of leaving them an heir to my crown.--I can imagine infinite happiness with a wife suited to my taste, consonant with my principles, and capable of catching some of my own wild-fire; and I feel a jealous something in my breast--call it pride, call it delicacy, what you will, but it is a sentiment of abhorrence at the thought of cherishing a woman who would have consented to fill the arms of any other King that might have sat on the throne of Portugal.--For this reason I cannot, I will not marry one to whom I am personally unknown--this is my determination, carry it to Alcoçava, and let him manage the refusal with the customary decorum.”