“We will speak on this subject no more;” he said abruptly, “it is painful to me.--the destiny of Don Sebastian is in the hands of God;--who may venture to determine it?--If he live, Providence assuredly will restore him a sceptre which he wished to wield worthily: his misfortunes will have been his instructors; and Europe may perhaps find with astonishment an example for Kings, in him who has tasted the bitterness of every situation, and thus learned--but enough of this--I divine not his fate.” The broken voice, flushed and averted cheek, together with the severely-noble air of Sebastian, startled Sir Anthony; a vague suspicion crossed his mind: it was the suspicion of a moment: for to a man of quiet feelings, untinctured with romance, no sufficient motive for Sebastian’s concealment and errantry presented itself to his fancy. He regarded him curiously once more, then said,-- “I mistake much, Sir Knight, if you were not a confidential companion of Don Sebastian’s; but I ask not whom: suffice it to me, that you are a Christian, a soldier, and a gentleman.” Sebastian bowed without speaking, and retired abruptly. Early on the morrow, the ambassador and his unknown guest appeared at the review of the Persian troops; soon after the Sophi’s son arrived, surrounded by nobles sumptuously attired, on milk-white horses, whose chanfraines sparkled with precious stones. When Shirley approached with one whose plain armour (ill-suited and unbrightened) formed a contrast to the gold and polish of theirs, all the young Persians regarded him with surprize; they exchanged glances of contempt together: but how quickly was that contempt changed into a sentiment of awe, when the stranger, uncovering himself with an air of command and submission mingled, displayed a countenance on which were stamped majesty, intrepidity, self-respect, and the sweetest benignity. Deeply read in courts, Sir Anthony Shirley noted the address of his companion: he beheld him meet the gaze of the Persian Prince and his suite, not only without embarrassment, but with looks of growing nobleness. Who was he then? and what high station had he held near the throne of Portugal? Shirley’s thoughts could not determine these questions, but they answered one more important; they assured him he might rely on the ability and the faith of the man he scrutinized. Having previously explained to Prince Abbas, that the stranger sought permission to take the field in his cause, he had now only occasion to present his gallant friend, and to interpret for him during the day. The Prince reviewed his army, visited some works of defence that were constructing round Ispahan, examined his magazines, in short, devoted the whole day to an inspection of his military resources: while doing so, he developed the genius of his new officer.