But Time ran on, and the Princess was brought to bed of a second Son, who liv’d, and was called Fernando. Don Pedro forc’d himself a little to take part in the publick Joy, so that they believ’d his Humour was changing; but this Appearance of a Calm endur’d not long, and he fell back again into his black Melancholy.
The artful Elvira was incessantly agitated in searching out the Knowledge of this Secret. Chance wrought for her; and, as she was walking, full of Indignation and Anger, in the Garden of the Palace of Coimbra, she found the Prince of Portugal sleeping in an obscure Grotto.
Her Fury could not contain it self at the sight of this loved Object, she roll’d her Eyes upon him, and perceived in spite of Sleep, that some Tears escaped his Eyes; the Flame which burnt yet in her Heart, soon grew soft and tender there: But oh! she heard him sigh, and after that utter these words, Yes, Divine Agnes, I will sooner die than let you know it: Constantia shall have nothing to reproach me with. Elvira was enraged at this Discourse, which represented to her immediately, the same moment, Agnes de Castro with all her Charms; and not at all doubting, but it was she who possest the Heart of Don Pedro, she found in her Soul more Hatred for this fair Rival, than Tenderness for him.
The Grotto was not a fit Place to make Reflections in, or to form Designs. Perhaps her first Transports would have made her waken him, if she had not perceived a Paper lying under his Hand, which she softly seiz’d on; and that she might not be surprized in the reading it, she went out of the Garden with as much haste as confusion.
When she was retired to her Apartment, she open’d the Paper, trembling, and found in it these Verses, writ by the Hand of Don Pedro; and which, in appearance, he had newly then compos’d.
In vain, Oh! Sacred Honour, you debate
The mighty Business in my Heart:
Love! Charming Love! rules all my Fate;
Interest and Glory claim no part.
The God, sure of his Victory, triumphs there,