The impetuous and imperious Sebastian forgot at this moment his character of just; he was incapable of admitting either a parent’s or a husband’s right, when the one had used his power tyrannically, and the other had been forced upon a child incapable of choice. To obtain the pope’s bull for annulling this marriage, seemed not a matter of difficulty; the consent of Vimiosa was of course certain; and as the rival husband had not been long returned from India, he was not likely to oppose the divorce from any motive of attachment: at all events, Sebastian resolved to use his prerogative if necessary, since Gonsalva had expressed for him the most passionate preference, and ought not her happiness to be the first object of his life!—She now repeated her promise of living for him alone, and at that sound the momentary obstacle disappeared from her lover’s sight.
After this conference the rash young monarch dispatched couriers into France with letters to the count Vimiosa, demanding his daughter, and inviting him to return and assist in dissolving the bands which tied her to Don Emanuel de Castro: at the same time he sent a magnificent embassy to Rome, praying for a divorce; and commissioned his cousin Antonio to see and converse with Don Emanuel.
Meanwhile Donna Gonsalva had hinted to Sebastian the impropriety of exposing her reputation to the scandal of being discovered in a clandestine intercourse with her sovereign: having no longer a reason for concealment, Sebastian embraced the permission this hint gave him, and came with a splendid retinue to Vimiosa. His lords saw nothing extraordinary in a young monarch paying a courteous visit to the sister and daughter of one of his greatest subjects, but no sooner did they behold the transcendent beauty of Donna Gonsalva, and the emotion of their royal master, than a suspicion of the truth was awakened amongst them.
Lost in a round of new and delightful enjoyments, Sebastian was from that hour continually at the house of his mistress: his cousin accompanied him in these visits, and warmly applauded his choice. But the eloquence of the latter had been used in vain to obtain an hearing from Don Emanuel De Castro; that young nobleman refusing to converse on the subject of her marriage with any other than the King himself.
Sebastian’s nature was too generous not to revolt from some arbitrary measures which Antonio suggested in the height of his zeal and displeasure: he refused to degrade or distress his rival; and the dictates of delicacy forbade him to attempt purchasing his acquiescence by mere honours.
De Castro was indeed worthy of this liberal treatment: he had distinguished himself in the Indies under his grandfather, by the most brilliant services. His intrepidity and genius for war were not the only themes of praise; to these were added justice, temperance, a benevolent attention to the natural propensities, habits, and even prejudices of the Indians, and a conciliating manner which subdued them still more than his arms. Filial piety was the first of his virtues: after twelve years residence in India, a dangerous disease fastened upon his aged parent, which compelled him to return home: Don Emanuel was advised to remain at Goa, where he would in all probability receive an immediate nomination to succeed the viceroy in his government; but he refused to act thus:—abandoning this expectation, and resigning his military command, he left the eastern world, chiefly for the sake of softening the discomforts of a tedious voyage to a relation he revered; though the idea of claiming his young bride sweetened the sacrifice.
On reaching Portugal, the viceroy had gone to his seat at Santaren, from whence Don Emanuel had twice visited Gonsalva: but the death of his beloved grandfather quickly followed, and prevented him from seeing her again, till the first days of his mourning were passed.—Don Emanuel was preparing to appear at court for the first time, when the King’s pleasure was intimated to him by the prior of Crato. Refusing to discuss so important a matter with a third person, he was ordered into the presence of his sovereign.—The King alone, and secretly at war with himself, received him with embarrassment: his excessive emotion formed a decided contrast to the grave and dignified composure of De Castro. The latter was just going to pay the usual mark of homage to princes, when Sebastian impetuously caught him by the arm, exclaiming, “Bend not your knee to one who would dismiss from your mind in this conference all thought of his authority: I wish you to hear me, Don Emanuel, not as a King, who might insist, but as a man who is willing to submit to the decision of equity.—In conversing on this interesting topic, let us think only of the rights and the happiness of Donna Gonsalva—let us forget, if possible, our own desires.—Believe me, if I did not flatter myself with being inexpressibly dear to her, if I did not abhor and renounce with my whole heart this unnatural practice of infant nuptials, I would not seek to release her hand, though certain of commanding it the next instant:—nay, had I known earlier of her engagements, preposterous as I deem them, I would have avoided the scandal and the pain of dissolving them.”
De Castro fixed his eyes upon the ingenuous though disturbed countenance of the King: esteem and compassion were in the look.—“This is the first time,” he said, “in which I have had the honour of seeing and conversing with my sovereign, and I foresee it will add to my former loyalty, the sentiments of gratitude and admiration.—my fortunes, my services, my life, sire, are at your feet, dispose of them henceforth as you will; but I beseech you for your own honour and happiness, for the sake of your people, proceed no further in dissolving my union with Donna Gonsalva.”
“How! Don Emanuel,” exclaimed Sebastian, “do you pretend to persuade me of these animated sentiments, and yet deny me the only favor peculiarly your own to bestow? as your sovereign I may command your services and life; but when I ask of you with the simplicity of an equal, to resign the shadow of a right over a woman whom you cannot love, whom I love with all the ardour of virtuous tenderness, and who blesses me in return, when I ask this at your hands, you capriciously, tyrannically deny me. What conduct is this? how dare you mock me with expressions of devoted regard?”
Embarrassed yet not confounded, Don Emanuel was silent; the king pressed his remark with increased ardour, adding, in a tone of greater emotion, “You were contracted to Donna Gonsalva at the age of thirteen, you went immediately after to India, from whence you are returned but three months; in that period you have seen the fair Gonsalva only thrice, and that in reserved interviews before her aunt, where nothing beyond personal graces could speak to your senses. No charm of varied discourse; no enchantment of sensibility could penetrate to your soul; the coldness of her feelings must have chilled yours: love feeds, grows, lives upon love! Can you then, will you then have the injustice to place your mere admiration of her beauty upon a par with my lively preference of her character, and my tender sympathy with her disinterested affection? Have a care, Don Emmanuel, force me not to resume the King; you may rouse me into measures which otherwise I would have spurned.”