Don Sebastian : $b or, The house of the Braganza: An historical romance. vol. 2Porter, Anna Maria
General
Don Sebastian : $b or, The house of the Braganza: An historical romance. vol. 2
Porter, Anna Maria
Sebastião, King of Portugal, 1554-1578 -- Fiction
The lock of her hair was now in the hand of Sebastian, his eyes were
intently fixed on it, without his seeing or thinking of it; the complete
distinction of all his hopes was contained in this fatal letter; the
bright vision of gratitude had vanished, and misery’s last blow stunned
both thought and feeling.
Such a benumbing influence was on him, that he remained nearly on the
same spot from sunrise to sunset without food or sleep, or the
consciousness of wanting either.
It happened that towards evening a sudden storm drove some countrymen
into the cavern for shelter. The noise they made roused Sebastian; on
seeing him, they naturally concluded that he had taken refuge from the
same motive with themselves; and entering into conversation with him, he
learnt that there was then a vessel in the bay of Setuval bound for
Brazil. He no longer contemplated with lively emotions a voyage to the
new world, but he was sick of that which he inhabited; and to the
wretched, change of place seems ever desirable. He accompanied the men
to Setuval, where he fortunately procured a passage in the ship
described, and she sailed at midnight.
While the vessel was tossing among the turbulent waves of the Atlantic,
Portugal’s self-exiled monarch had leisure to arrange those events,
which by their painful rapidity had unsettled his reason: he gave up
the hope of happiness; with a moody smile he gave up the hope of
blessing his benefactress; but still it was not possible for him to
abandon the expectation of regaining his rights, and with them the power
of benefiting others. For him there was no middle station; he must
either mount again to empire, or sink to utter desolation; and it was
only in the active duties of sovereignty that he could lose the
remembrance of his present sufferings.
Since Kara Aziek was lost,--and alas! how sad to think she was
self-condemned for his sake! private affections had no claim on him,
except indeed in the person of Gaspar, (for the worth of Don Emanuel was
yet to be proved.) What a sterile scene did life then present! he
pondered over the present and the future, till his heart took so deep a
print from despair, as to make him wildly doubt whether he had ever
known what happiness was.
In this state he was ill-adapted to share in the noisy garrulity of his
fellow voyagers; he shunned their society, sitting retired in an obscure
part of the vessel, from the deck of which he seemed to be stupidly
watching her track through the waters.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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