The aged King raised his hands and eyes to heaven in an ecstacy: the Duchess briefly informed her husband of her grandfather’s resolution never to resume the throne which he had so long abandoned. Braganza endeavoured to combat this resolution with the rhetoric of one who speaks from the heart; but Sebastian had reason on his side, and his arguments were unanswerable. When this amicable contest was ended, the Duke resumed the subject which had led to it. “I am come,” he said, (and as he spoke, his eyes kindled into the fire of enthusiasm) “I am come from a secret assembly of the most potent nobles and citizens in Lisbon: they met at Almeyda, to swear fidelity to each other, and to the sacred cause of freedom. They demand a leader; and it is upon me that they have fixed their eyes. Luisa, I am yours; I am doubly yours, for you have made me a father--it is you therefore that must answer for your Juan. Tell me, sweetest! have you courage to let me share this glorious conflict.” The eyes of Juan, as he now suffered them to rest solely upon her to whom he spoke, by turns softened and sparkled, as love and patriotism succeeded to displace each other in his mind: those of the hoary-headed Sebastian expressed an apprehensive anxiety. Luisa’s changing complexion betrayed an inward and a severe struggle; but courageously conquering every selfish care, she looked up, and said firmly, “It is true, you are mine, Juan! but not to the exclusion of sublimer duties and affections: your country’s claims supersede all others. Awful is the thought of what may follow this consent I give; for does not the bolt strike him first who stands on the highest ground? Yet, better to die nobly, than to live meanly!--better to lament a dead hero, than to retain”----“A base coward!” interrupted Braganza, snatching her to his breast with transporting exultation. “O my brave wife! may your spirit animate our boy!” “Bless thee, mighty God!” cried the aged King, as he rose and extended his hands over the admirable pair, “bless them here and hereafter; and grant that their race may ever sit on the throne of Portugal!” His august figure, dignified yet further by the sublime emotion which elevated his soul, stood like some time-shattered tower, whose ruins shew its former strength and beauty. Luisa contemplated these remains of the once young and love-inspiring Sebastian, with a melting heart; for she thought of all the events and feelings which had filled his chequered life, and sighed to think how barren and how desolate was that Sebastian now. Braganza looked at him with respect and admiration: “Honored Sire! dear Father!” he said, “I have but one ardent wish--’tis that I may not disgrace the illustrious blood which flows in my veins. If there be one drop there poisoned by vile ambition, if there be but one that does not flow purely for freedom and my country, may the whole tide that circles through this body, redden the swords of Spain.”