“And patience, Heaven! while I pronounce the name Of him, the fellest monster of them all-- Godoy who sold Iberia first to shame, And through her cold lips forced the cup of gall, Parted to France the Indian dower whose thrall Columbus won--even basely dared profane His monarch’s bed; and shadowing thus our fall, Napoléon gave a path to Lusitain O’er our dishonoured soil--those footsteps conquered Spain! XXXV. “And secret treaties had the recreant drawn With Hell’s diplomacy our soil to carve; And Europe was to have seen ere Aries’ dawn The traitor’s self the sovereign of Algarve. Thus rulers traffic while the people starve! Perchance Gaul’s tyrant mocked him with the lure-- A double traitor--base design to serve. Howe’er be this, his legions we endure Marched to the sister-land that erst expelled the Moor. XXXVI. “Trembled blue Tagus when his waters saw A conqueror come unwounded to his shore; His curling wave, receding, he doth draw In violent scorn to where Almada o’er The Serra lords Lisboa’s towers before. Her soil that spurned the Invader quakes again, And gapes athirst for foreign tyrants’ gore. Indignant Tagus lashes it--in vain-- Sinks o’er his golden sands, and sighing wears the chain. XXXVII. “Where were thy men--where, Lusitain, were they? Entranced, appalled--with none to lead or guide. Thy coward Princes fled like hinds away-- Thy caitiff Nobles crost the Ocean-tide. No sword in the Invader’s blood was dyed! Thy Chiefs and Patriarchs basely kist the rod; Thy sacred banner of Saint George the pride, Torn from his castled height o’erspread the sod, And Priests profane declared thy conquerors sent by God! XXXVIII. “Spain next a victim! Foulest treachery seized Her fortress-castles--to the frontier drew Her Princes whose domestic feuds it pleased The Invader to foment, as Hell might do! His legions marched--for patriots then were few-- To Manzanarés’ banks; our aged King The Usurper made pronounce his last adieu, And caged his Heir--a poor and mindless thing-- But Spain her talons ground, and imped her soaring wing! XXXIX. “Oh, many a murder marked that foreign sway, And many a shriek appalling rent the air.”-- He ceased an instant--thus while he did say, Their ears were smote by cries of deep despair. Rushed Carlos to the door, but held him there Salustian, Isidora, Isabel. He shook with passion, till his mistress fair With gentlest pressure strove his rage to quell; Then snatched a ghittern--thus he struck the tuneful shell:-- The Tartar Town. 1.