“Peace!” exclaimed Sebastian, with a voice of thunder, and throwing his arm round Kara Aziek with a look of protection. At that moment his eye caught Morosini’s, and the tide of resentment turned: it was evident that he was the informer, since after their first meeting, Sebastian had directed Giuseppe to address his letters to Cattizone at Messina, and doubtless having supposed that he bore that name, they had confounded him with Gaspar, and discovering his wife, who concluding him to be her husband, without intending to abet falsehood, was beguiled into doing so. Sebastian briefly stated these circumstances, adding, “of his evidence I am deprived by the most cruel misfortune; my faithful follower is no more; but his dying words attest my truth, and the noble Braganza is prepared to repeat them. Let this woman you speak of, be brought hither; she will quickly acknowledge that I am not her husband. If I am a Calabrian, bring forward those who know my birth and lineage.--You have state papers signed by Don Sebastian’s name, compare these signatures with my hand writing now. Question me on the secret articles of our various negociations; if you find me falter in my answers, then brand me with imposture. Let my person be compared with the description of Don Sebastian’s: shew me to my Portuguese, they will know the voice and the features of their King, though time and sorrow have marked me with their heaviest print: if my own people deny me, then let disgrace and death light on me and mine.” Sebastian concluded, and seeing that his last words had taken the colour from Kara Aziek’s cheek, he gave her such a smile as might in calmer times have transported her to fall upon his neck in an ecstacy of delight: but now, it redoubled her anguish, by heightening her love, and she remained wildly gazing on the men who had the fate of her husband in their hands. A sharp debate ensued amongst the Venetians. Some, moved by the interesting softness of Kara Aziek, were forward to espouse the cause of her husband, insisting on the equity of complying with his demands. Some, awed into admiration of Sebastian, feared to maintain the assertion of his imposture, but excused their conduct on the plea of his apostacy: others, denounced him in the same breath as an impostor, an apostate, a magician, calling for his instant delivery into the hands of Rome, or of the Inquisition. All questioned him with perplexing varieties of inquiries, which he compelled himself to satisfy. The Castillian grew clamorous; and at each convincing explanation, called out, “He is an impious sorcerer!” But the senate, though far from unanimously believing this superstitious assertion of their ally’s envoy, were too much afraid of papal power, and of protestant indignation, to take a decisive part on either side: they deemed it best to steer the middle course, and getting rid of Sebastian without providing for his protection, leave him to his fate in the midst of Philip’s adherents.