Page:Sebastian of Portugal.pdf/5

 From his dark eye, when King Sebastian's name Became our theme?

2d Cit.—Trust me, there's more in this Than may be lightly said. These are no times To breathe men's thoughts i' th' open face of Heaven And ear of multitudes. They that would speak Of monarchs and their deeds, should keep within Their quiet homes. Come, let us hence, and then We'll commune of this stranger. [Exeunt.

Seb.—Withstand me not. I tell thee that my soul, With all its passionate energies, is rous'd Unto that fearful strength which must have way, E'en like the elements, in their stormy hour Of mastery o'er creation.

Gon.—But they wait That hour in silence. Oh! be calm a while; Thine is not come. My king—

Seb.—I am no king, While, in the very palace of my sires, Aye, where mine eyes first drank the glorious light, Where my soul's thrilling echoes first awoke To the high sound of earth's immortal names, The usurper lives and reigns. I am no king, Until I cast him thence.

Zam.—Shall not thy voice Be as a trumpet to th' awakening land? Will not the bright swords flash like sun-bursts forth, When the brave hear their chief?

Gon.—Peace, Zamor, peace! Child of the desart, what hast thou to do With the calm hour of counsel? Monarch, pause! A kingdom's destiny should not be the sport Of passion's reckless winds. There is a time When men, in very weariness of heart, And careless desolation, tam'd to yield By misery, strong as death, will lay their souls E’en at the conqueror's feet, as nature sinks, After long torture, into cold, and dull,