# Poetical Remains of the Late Mrs Hemans/Sebastian of Portugal

SEBASTIAN OF PORTUGAL.
A DRAMATIC FRAGMENT.
Dram. Pers.
Sebastian. Zamor, a young Arab. Gonzalez, his friend. Sylveira.
SCENE I.
The sea-shore near Lisbon.
Sebast.—Gonzal.—Zamor.
Sebast. With what young life and fragrance in its breath My native air salutes me! from the groves Of citron, and the mountains of the vine, And thy majestic tide thus foaming on In power and freedom o'er its golden sands,
Fair stream, my Tajo! youth with all its glow And pride of feeling through my soul and frame Again seems rushing, as these noble waves Past their bright shores flow joyously. Sweet land, My own, my Fathers' land, of sunny skies And orange bowers!—Oh! is it not a dream That thus I tread thy soil? Or do I wake From a dark dream but now? Gonzalez, say, Doth it not bring the flush of early life Back on th' awakening spirit, thus to gaze On the far-sweeping river, and the shades Which in their undulating motion speak Of gentle winds amidst bright waters born, After the fiery skies and dark red sands Of the lone desert? Time and toil must needs Have changed our mien; but this, our blessed land, Hath gained but richer beauty since we bade Her glowing shores farewell. Seems it not thus? Thy brow is clouded.—
Gonzal.To mine eye the scene
Wears, amidst all its quiet loveliness, A hue of desolation, and the calm, The solitude and silence which pervade Earth, air, and ocean, seem belonging less To peace than sadness! We have proudly stood Even on this shore, beside the Atlantic wave, When it hath looked not thus.
Sebast.Aye, now thy soul Is in the past! Oh no, it looked not thus When the morn smiled upon our thousand sails, And the winds blew for Afric! How that hour, With all its hues of glory, seems to burst Again upon my vision! I behold The stately barks, the arming, the array, The crests, the banners of my chivalry Swayed by the sea-breeze till their motion shewed Like joyous life! How the proud billows foamed! And the oars flashed, like lightnings of the deep, And the tall spears went glancing to the sun, And scattering round quick rays, as if to guide
The valiant unto fame! Aye, the blue heaven Seemed for that noble scene a canopy Scarce too majestic, while it rung afar To peals of warlike sound! My gallant bands! Where are you now?
Gonzal.Bid the wide desert tell Where sleep its dead! To mightier hosts than them Hath it lent graves ere now; and on its breast Is room for nations yet!
Sebast.It cannot be, That all have perished! Many a noble man, Made captive on that war-field, may have burst His bonds like ours. Cloud not this fleeting hour, Which to my soul is as the fountain's draught To the parched lip of fever, with a thought So darkly sad!
Gonzal.Oh never, never cast That deep remembrance from you! When once more Your place is 'midst earth's rulers, let it dwell Around you, as the shadow of your throne,
Wherein the land may rest. My king, this hour (Solemn as that which to the voyager's eye In far and dim perspective doth unfold A new and boundless world) may happy be, The last in which the courage and the power Of truth's high voice may reach you! Who may stand As man to man, as friend to friend, before The ancestral throne of monarchs? Or perchance Toils, such as tame the loftiest to endurance, Henceforth may wait us here! But howsoe'er This be, the lessons now from sufferings past Befit all time, all change. Oh! by the blood, The free, the generous blood of Portugal, Shed on the sands of Afric,—by the names Which, with their centuries of high renown, There died, extinct for ever,—let not those Who stood in hope and glory at our side Here, on this very sea-beach, whence they passed To fall, and leave no trophy,—let them not Be soon, be e'er forgotten! for their fate
Bears a deep warning in its awfulness, Whence power might well learn wisdom!
Sebast.Thinkest thou then That years of sufferance and captivity, Such as have bowed down eagle hearts ere now, And made high energies their spoil, have passed So lightly o'er my spirit? Is it not thus! The things thou wouldst recall are not of those To be forgotten! But my heart hath still A sense, a bounding pulse for hope and joy, And it is joy which whispers in the breeze Sent from my own free mountains. Brave Gonzalez! Thou art one to make thy fearless heart a shield Unto thy friend, in the dark stormy hour When knightly crests are trampled, and proud helms Cleft, and strong breast-plates shivered. Thou art one To infuse the soul of gallant fortitude Into the captive's bosom, and beguile The long slow march beneath the burning noon With lofty patience; but for those quick bursts,
Those buoyant efforts of the soul to cast Her weight of care to earth, those brief delights Whose source is in a sunbeam, or a sound Which stirs the blood, or a young breeze, whose wing Wanders in chainless joy; for things like these Thou hast no sympathies!—And thou, my Zamor, Art wrapt in thought! I welcome thee to this, The kingdom of my fathers. Is it not A goodly heritage?
Zamor.The land is fair: But he, the archer of the wilderness, Beholdeth not the palms beneath whose shade His tents are scattered, and his camels rest; And therefore is he sad!
Sebast.Thou must not pine With that sick yearning of the impatient heart, Which makes the exile's life one fevered dream Of skies, and hills, and voices far away, And faces wearing the familiar hues, Lent by his native sunbeams. I have known
Too much of this, and would not see another Thus daily die. If it be so with thee, My gentle Zamor, speak. Behold, our bark Yet, with her white sails catching sunset's glow, Lies within signal reach. If it be thus, Then fare thee well, farewell thou brave and true, And generous friend! How often is our path Crossed by some being whose bright spirit sheds A passing gladness o'er it, but whose course Leads down another current, never more To blend with ours! Yet far within our souls, Amidst the rushing of the busy world, Dwells many a secret thought, which lingers yet Around that image. And e'en so, kind Zamor, Shalt thou be long remembered!
Zamor.By the fame Of my brave sire, whose deeds the warrior tribes Tell round the desert's watchfire, at the hour Of silence, and of coolness, and of stars, I will not leave thee! 'Twas in such an hour
The dreams of rest were on me, and I lay Shrouded in slumber's mantle, as within The chambers of the dead. Who saved me then, When the Pard, soundless as the midnight, stole Soft on the sleeper? Whose keen dart transfixed The monarch of the solitudes? I woke, And saw thy javelin crimsoned with his blood, Thou, my deliverer! and my heart e'en then Called thee its brother.
Sebast.For that gift of life With one of tenfold price, even freedom's self, Thou hast repaid me well.
Zamor.Then bid me not Forsake thee! Though my father's tents may rise At times upon my spirit, yet my home Shall be amidst thy mountains, Prince, and thou Shalt be my chief, until I see thee robed With all thy power. When thou canst need no more Thine Arab's faithful heart and vigorous arm, From the green regions of the setting sun
Then shall the wanderer turn his steps, and seek His orient wilds again.
Sebast.Be near me still, And ever, oh my warrior! I shall stand Again amidst my hosts, a mail-clad king, Begirt with spears and banners, and the pomp And the proud sounds of battle. Be thy place Then at my side. When doth a monarch cease To need true hearts, bold hands? Not in the field Of arms, nor on the throne of power, nor yet The couch of sleep. Be our friend, we will not part.
Gonzal. Be all thy friends then faithful, for even yet They may be fiercely tried.
Sebast.I doubt them not. Even now my heart beats high to meet their welcome, Let us away!
Gonzal. Yet hear once more, my liege, The humblest pilgrim, from his distant shrine Returning, finds not even his peasant home Unchanged amidst its vineyards. Some loved face
Which made the sun-light of his lowly board Is touched by sickness; some familiar face Greets him no more; and shall not fate and time Have done their work since last we parted hence Upon an empire? Aye, within those years, Hearts from their ancient worship have fallen off And bowed before new stars: high names have sunk From their supremacy of place, and others Gone forth, and made themselves the mighty sounds At which thrones tremble. Oh! be slow to trust E'en those to whom your smiles were wont to seem As light is unto flowers. Search well the depths Of bosoms in whose keeping you would shrine The secret of your state. Storms pass not by Leaving earth's face unchanged.
Sebast.Whence didst thou learn The cold distrust which casts so deep a shadow O'er a most noble nature?
Gonzal.Life hath been My stern and only teacher. I have known
Vicissitudes in all things, but the most In human hearts. Oh! yet a while tame down That royal spirit, till the hour be come When it may burst its bondage! On thy brow The suns of burning climes have set their seal, And toil, and years, and perils, have not passed O'er the bright aspect, and the ardent eye As doth a breeze of summer. Be that change The mask beneath whose shelter thou may'st read Men's thoughts, and veil thine own.
Sebast.Am I thus changed From all I was? And yet it needs must be, Since e'en my soul hath caught another hue From its long sufferings. Did I not array The gallant flower of Lusian chivalry, And lead the mighty of the land, to pour Destruction on the Moslem? I return, And as a fearless and a trusted friend, Bring, from the realms of my captivity, An arab of the desert!—But the sun
Hath sunk below th' Atlantic. Let us hence— Gonzalez, fear me not.[Exeunt.
SCENE II.
A Street in Lisbon illuminated.
Many Citizens.
1st Cit. In sooth our city wears a goodly mien With her far-blazing fanes, and festive lamps Shining from all her marble palaces, Countless as heaven's fair stars. The humblest lattice Sends forth its radiance. How the sparkling waves Fling back the light!
2d Cit.Aye, 'tis a gallant shew; And one which serves, like others, to conceal Things which must not be told.
3d Cit.What wouldst thou say?
2d Cit. That which may scarce, in perilous times like these,
Be said with safety. Hast thou looked within Those stately palaces? Were they but peopled With the high race of warlike nobles, once Their princely lords, think'st thou, good friend, that now They would be glittering with this hollow pomp, To greet a conqueror's entrance?
3d Cit.Thou say'st well. None but a land forsaken of its chiefs Had been so lost and won.
4th Cit.The lot is cast; We have but to yield. Hush! for some strangers come; Now friends beware.
1st Cit.Did the King pass this way At morning, with his train?
2d Cit.Aye, saw you not The long and rich procession?
[Sebast. enters with Gonzal. and Zamor.
Sebast. to Gonzal.This should be The night of some high festival. E'en thus
My royal city to the skies sent up From her illumined fanes and towers a voice Of gladness, welcoming our first return From Afric's coast. Speak thou, Gonzalez, ask The cause of this rejoicing. To my heart Deep feelings rush, so mingled and so fast, My voice per chance might tremble.
Gonzal.Citizen, What festal night is this, that all your streets Are thronged and glittering thus?
1st Cit.Hast thou not heard Of the king's entry, in triumphal pomp, This very morn?
Gonzal.The King! triumphal pomp! Thy words are dark.
Sebast.Speak yet again, mine ears Ring with strange sounds. Again!
1st Cit.I said, the King, Philip of Spain, and now of Portugal, This morning entered with a conqueror's train
Our city's royal palace: and for this We hold our festival.
Sebast. (in a low voice.) Thou saidst—the King! His name? I heard it not.
1st Cit.Philip of Spain.
Sebast. Philip of Spain. We slumber, till aroused By th' earthquake's bursting shock. Hath there not fallen A sudden darkness? All things seem to float Obscurely round me. Now 'tis past. The streets Are blazing with strange fire. Go, quench those lamps; They glare upon me till my very brain Grows dizzy, and doth whirl. How dared ye thus Light up your shrines for him?
Gonzal.Away, away. This is no time, no scene—
Sebast.Philip of Spain! How name ye this fair land? Why—is it not The free, the chivalrous Portugal? the land
By the proud ransom of heroic blood Won from the Moor of old? Did that red stream Sink to the earth, and leave no fiery current In the veins of noble men, that so its tide, Full swelling at the sound of hostile steps, Might be a kingdom's barrier?
2d Cit.That high blood Which should have been our strength, profusely shed By the rash King Sebastian, bathed the plains Of fatal Alcazar. Our monarch's guilt Hath brought this ruin down.
Sebast.Must this be heard, And borne and unchastised. Man, darest thou stand Before me face to face, and thus arraign Thy sovereign?
Zamor (aside to Sebast.) Shall I lift the sword, my Prince, Against thy foes?
Gonzal.Be still! or all is lost.
2d Cit. I dare speak that which all men think and know.
'Tis to Sebastian, and his waste of life, And power, and treasure, that we owe these bonds.
3d Cit. Talk not of bonds. May our new monarch rule The weary land in peace! But who art thou? Whence comest thou, haughty stranger, that these things, Known to all nations, should be new to thee?
Sebast. (wildly.) I come from regions where the cities lie In ruins, not in chains. [Exit with Gonzal. and Zamor.
2d Cit.He wears the mien Of one that hath commanded; yet his looks And words were strangely wild.
1st Cit.Marked you his fierce And haughty gesture, and the flash that broke 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 mens' thoughts in th' open face of Heaven And ear of multitudes. They that would speak Of monarch's and their deeds should keep within Their quiet homes. Come, let us hence, and then We'll commune of this stranger.[Exeunt.
SCENE III.
The Portico of a Palace.
Sebast.—Gonzal.—Zamor.
Sebast. Withstand me not! I tell thee that my soul, With all its passionate energies, is roused Unto that fearful strength which must have way E'en like the elements, in their hour of might And mastery o'er creation.
Gonzal.But they wait
That hour in silence. O! be calm awhile, Thine is not come. My King—
Sebast.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, Th' usurper lives and reigns. I am no king Until I cast him thence.
Zamor.Shall not thy voice, Be as a trumpet to the awakening land? Will not the bright swords flash like sun-bursts forth When the brave hear their chief?
Gonzal.Peace, Zamor, peace! Child of the desert, 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, tamed 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 And heavy sleep. But comes there not an hour Of fierce atonement? Aye, the slumberer wakes With gathered strength and vengeance. And the sense And the remembrance of his agonies Are in themselves a power, whose fearful path Is like the path of ocean, when the Heavens Take off its interdict. Wait then the hour Of that high impulse.
Sebast.Is it not the sun Whose radiant bursting through the embattled clouds Doth make it morn? The hour of which thou speak'st, Itself, with all its glory, is the work Of some commanding nature, which doth bid The sullen shades disperse. Away!—e'en now The land's high hearts, the fearless and the true, Shall know they have a leader. Is not this
The mansion of mine own, mine earliest friend Sylveira?
Gonzal. Aye, its glittering lamps too well Illume the stately vestibule to leave Our sight a moment's doubt. He ever loved Such pageantries.
Sebast.His dwelling thus adorned On such a night! Yet will I seek him here. He must be faithful, and to him the first My tale shall be revealed. A sudden chill Falls on my heart; and yet I will not wrong My friend with dull suspicion. He hath been Linked all too closely with mine inmost soul. And what have I to lose?
Gonzal.Is their blood nought Who without hope will follow where thou leadest Even unto death?
Sebast.Was that a brave man's voice? Warrior, and friend! how long then hast thou learned To hold thy blood thus dear?
Gonzal.Of mine, mine own Think'st thou I spoke? When all is shed for thee Thou'lt know me better.
Sebast. (entering the palace.) For a while farewell. [Exit.
Gonzal. Thus princes lead men's hearts. Come, follow me, And if a home is left me still, brave Zamor, There will I bid thee welcome.[Exeunt.
SCENE IV.
A Hall within the Palace.
Sebast.—Sylveira.
Sylv. Whence art thou, stranger? what wouldst thou with me?
There is a fiery wildness in thy mien Startling and almost fearful.
Sebast.From the stern And vast and desolate wilderness, whose lord Is the fierce lion, and whose gentlest wind Breathes of the tomb, and whose dark children make The bow and spear their law, men bear not back That smilingness of aspect, wont to mask The secrets of their spirits 'midst the stir Of courts and cities. I have looked on scenes Boundless, and strange, and terrible; I have known Sufferings which are not in the shadowy scope Of wild imagination; and these things Have stamped me with their impress. Man of peace, Thou look'st on one familiar with the extremes Of grandeur and of misery.
Sylv.Stranger, speak Thy name and purpose briefly, for the time Ill suits these mysteries, I must hence; to-night I feast the lords of Spain.
Sebast.Is that a task For King Sebastian's friend!
Sylv.Sebastian's friend! That name hath lost its meaning. Will the dead Rise from their silent dwellings, to upbraid The living for their mirth. The grave sets bounds Unto all human friendship.
Sebast.On the plain Of Alcazar full many a stately flower, The pride and crown of some high house, was laid Low in the dust of Afric; but of these Sebastian was not one.
Sylv.I am not skilled To deal with men of mystery. Take then off The strange dark scrutiny of thine eye from mine. What mean'st thou?—Speak!
Sebast.Sebastian died not there. I read no joy in that cold doubting mien.— Is not thy name Sylveira?
Sylv.Aye.
Sebast.Why then Be glad. I tell thee that Sebastian lives! Think thou on this—he lives! Should he return —For he may yet return—and find the friend In whom he trusted with such perfect trust As should be heaven's alone—Mark'st thou my words? —Should he then find this man, not girt and armed, And watching o'er the heritage of his lord, But, reckless of high fame and loyal faith, Holding luxurious revels with his foes, How wouldst thou meet his glance?
Sylv.As I do thine, Keen though it be, and proud.
Sebast.Why thou dost quail Before it, even as if the burning eye Of the broad sun pursued thy shrinking soul Through all its depths.
Sylv.Away! He died not there! He should have died there, with the chivalry
And strength and honour of his kingdom, lost By his impetuous rashness.
Sebast.This from thee? Who hath given power to falsehood, that one gaze At its unmasked and withering mien should blight High souls at once? I wake. And this from thee? There are, whose eyes discern the secret springs Which lie beneath the desert, and the gold And gems within earth's caverns, far below The everlasting hills: but who hath dared To dream that heaven's most awful attribute Invested his mortality, and to boast That through its inmost folds his glance could read One heart, one human heart? Why then, to love And trust is but to lend a traitor arms Of keenest temper and unerring aim, Wherewith to pierce our souls. But thou, beware! Sebastian lives!
Sylv.If it be so, and thou Art of his followers still, then bid him seek
Far in the wilds which gave one sepulchre To his proud hosts, a kingdom and a home, For none is left him here.
Sebast.This is to live An age of wisdom is an hour! The man Whose empire, as in scorn, o'erpassed the bounds E'en of the infinite deep; whose orient realms Lay bright beneath the morning, while the clouds Were brooding in their sunset mantle, still O'er his majestic regions of the west; This heir of far dominion shall return, And, in the very city of his birth, Shall find no home! Aye, I will tell him this, And he will answer that the tale is false, False as a traitor's hollow words of love; And that the stately dwelling, in whose halls We commune now—a friend's, a monarch's gift, Unto the chosen of his heart, Sylveira, Should yield him still a welcome.
Sylv.Fare thee well.
I may not pause to hear thee, for thy words Are full of danger, and of snares, perchance Laid by some treacherous foe. But all in vain. I mock thy wiles to scorn.
Sebast.Ha! ha! the snake Doth pride himself in his distorted cunning, Deeming it wisdom. Nay, thou goest not thus. My heart is bursting, and I will be heard. What! knowest thou not my spirit was born to hold Dominion over thine? Thou shalt not cast Those bonds thus lightly from thee. Stand thou there, And tremble in the presence of thy lord!
Sylv. This is all madness.
Sebast.Madness! no,—I say 'Tis reason starting from her sleep, to feel And see, and know in all their cold distinctness, Things which come o'er her, as a sense of pain O' th' sudden wakes the dreamer. Stay thee yet: Be still. Thou art used to smile and to obey; Aye, and to weep. I have seen thy tears flow fast
As from the fulness of a heart o'ercharged With loyal love. Oh! never, never more Let tears or smiles be trusted! When thy king Went forth on his disastrous enterprise, Upon thy bed of sickness thou wast laid, And he stood o'er thee with the look of one Who leaves a dying brother, and his eyes Were filled with tears like thine. No! not like thine : His bosom knew no falsehood, and he deemed Thine clear and stainless as a warrior's shield, Wherein high deeds and noble forms alone Are brightly imaged forth.
Sylv.What now avail These recollections?
Sebast.What? I have seen thee shrink, As a murderer from the eye of light before me, I have earned, (how dearly and how bitterly It matters not, but I have earned at last) Deep knowledge, fearful wisdom. Now! begone! Hence to thy guests, and fear not, though arraigned
E'en of Sebastian's friendship. Make his scorn, (For he will scorn thee, as a crouching slave By all high hearts is scorned) thy right, thy charter Unto vile safety. Let the secret voice Whose low upbraidings will not sleep within thee Be as a sign, a token of thy claim To all such guerdons as are showered on traitors, When noble men are crushed. And fear thou not :— Tis but the kingly cedar which the storm Hurls from his mountain throne:—th' ignoble shrub, Grovelling beneath, may live.
Sylv.It is thy part To tremble for thy life.
Sebast.They that have looked Upon a heart like thine, should know too well The worth of life to tremble. Such things make Brave men and reckless. Aye, and they whom fate Would trample should be thus. It is enough— Thou may'st depart.
Sylv.And thou, if thou dost prize Thy safety, speed thee hence.[Exit Sylveira.
Sebast.(alone)And this is he Who was as mine own soul: whose image rose Shadowing my dreams of glory with the thought That on the sick man's weary couch he lay, Pining to share my battles!
[Music heard within, and voices.]
CHORUS.
Ye winds that sweep The conquered billows of the western deep, Or wander where the morn 'Midst the resplendent Indian heavens is born, Waft o'er bright isles and glorious worlds the fame Of the crowned Spaniard's name: Till in each glowing zone Its might the nations own, And bow to him the vassal knee Whose sceptre shadows realms from sea to sea.
Sebast. Away—away! this is no place for him Whose name hath thus resounded, but is now A word of desolation.[Exit.