The hitherto-confounded beauty now haughtily raised herself, and making a bold effort, ordered him to leave her. “Whoever you are, she added, that dares usurp the name of Don Sebastian, and intrude thus upon my privacy, I command you to quit me: the King of Portugal, were he indeed alive would not have presented himself thus before me.” The air of disdain with which she spoke was yet clouded with terror. Sebastian’s reason became unsettled: “by the blessed mother of Jesus!” he cried, “I know not what to think! is it possible that only fourteen months have so utterly changed my person, my voice, my manner, that _you_ should doubt my identity? O Gonsalva, bless me but by saying that Sebastian’s memory still reigns in your heart, and I will soon convince you that it is he who now stands before you agonized and disappointed.” Again love and hope, mingled with grief, floated his eyes; Donna Gonsalva uttered a few inarticulate, evasive words: in astonishment the King looked wildly at her, then at himself, and seizing the arm he had let go, he dragged her towards a mirror, where he gazed intently for a moment upon his own figure, exclaiming in a voice of thunder, “I am _not_ so changed! you know me, faithless, inhuman woman!” The fury of his looks made Gonsalva’s frail heart quail within her; fear banished artifice, and she sunk to the ground, imploring him by name, not to destroy her. As self-preservation was now her first object, she besought him to forgive her infidelity--to allow for the desperation of her present shame, to be assured that the belief of his death and the unceasing importunities of Don Antonio de Crato, had alone rendered her untrue. At the name of her new lover the unfortunate Sebastian staggered a few paces and fell against the side of the apartment: What a blow, to find himself at the same instant betrayed by his friend and by his mistress! Terrified at the consequences of her imprudent disclosure, Gonsalva began to intercede for her guilty lover and her child: Sebastian ran his eyes over her without speaking; despair and destruction was in that devouring look; it increased the terror of Gonsalva, and she clung to his knees, sobbing out expressions of penitence.--Invincible beauty still gave an angel’s semblance to her deceptive features; as Sebastian beheld that heavenly countenance deluged with tears, his head swam, his heart melted, his convictions were shaken; Gonsalva saw her advantage, and redoubled her seducing contrition; but at that moment the accidental disorder of her drapery discovered that she would soon again become a mother. Recovered by this sight, he broke away, and hurried to the cradle: for awhile he stood over it with a terrible countenance; his looks changed every instant, all his joints shook, he did not speak, but the drops of agony on his forehead seemed to say, “Live on! thou hast not betrayed me.”