“For myself, I require naught; but I come for thy benefit, O hard-hearted and impious King; for our Lord, in his mercy, remembering the bright promise of thy youth, in the days of thy tainted father, has taken compassion on thee, and will not suffer thee to be destroyed without a given warning. Hear me, O King! while I speak the words of Heaven! If thou turn not from thy evil course; if thou ceasest not to cherish the persecutor of our holy religion, in the persons of her most faithful servants; if thou still wilt refuse to receive the fathers of the Order of Jesus into thy palace, and trustest to the vain words and counsels of the pampered and false sons of our Church, then will a speedy vengeance fall on thy head. Even now is thy name registered among those doomed to die, who will not repent of their sins: even now has the fiat of thy fate gone forth, which naught but the prayers of the faithful can turn aside. Be warned, then, O King! in time. Repent! and be saved from destruction. If not, before many suns have set, thy haughty head shall be brought low, and thou shalt mingle with the dust from whence thou sprangest. Ah! thy dying groans now ring upon mine ear. I see thy blood-stained corpse upon the ground, while the demons of hell rejoice that they have gained another victim. Thy proud race shall cease, and thy name shall be held in abhorrence by all the faithful followers of our holy religion.”
“Cease, cease, whoever thou art, mysterious man,” exclaimed the King, interrupting him, and trembling with agitation. “We tarried not to hear words like these. We fancied that thou earnest to inform us of some plot against our throne and life. Speak, who art thou? that we may know how much credence to give to thy words.”
“I am one whom thou hast persecuted—I am the Father Malagrida!”
“Ah! why, then, this strange garb? and how darest thou to approach our royal person?” cried the King.
“I dare do all that is commanded me; and for this peasant garb, it enabled me, unperceived, to enter this domain, where, living on the berries of the trees, and roots from the earth, have I long waited to meet thee thus. Wilt thou then promise to amend and turn from thy wickedness?”
“Silence! daring Priest!” cried the King. “Begone to the town appointed for thy residence, or I will command my attendants to seize thee, and commit thee to the lowest dungeon in our prisons.”
“I fear thee not, and dare thy vengeance! Thou hast set the seal upon thine own fate. From henceforth no warning voice shall meet thine ear; and rapidly shalt thou run thy course unto destruction. I would have saved thee, but thou wouldest not be saved. Wretched Monarch, we meet no more!”
Joseph, who wanted not personal courage, (indeed cowardice has never been a failing of his race,) and was above the vulgar superstitions of his country, enraged more than terrified by these daring threats, made an attempt to seize the mad Jesuit; but Malagrida, perceiving his intention, eluded his grasp, and uttering a loud laugh of derision, plunged among the rocks and brushwood, whither it was impossible for the King to follow on horseback.
In vain the Monarch attempted to cut off his retreat. After searching for him for a considerable time, he was obliged to desist; and then set off at full speed, in the hopes of quickly finding the Minister and his nobles, and despatching people to apprehend the daring Jesuit.
The Duke and his attendant watched eagerly for his approach; every instant they expected to triumph in his destruction; at last they beheld him galloping towards them through the wood, when the loud shouts of men, the sound of horses, and the barking of the hounds, broke on their ears, nearer approaching the spot where they were concealed. Onward came the King, when, as he was within a few yards of them, a wolf, closely pursued by the most active dogs, dashed by, his eyes straining, and his mouth covered with foam from rage and terror. The King, forgetful of the scene in which he had just engaged, and of everything except the excitement of the sport, turned his horse’s head, and gave chase after the wolf. The savage animal, already almost spent with fatigue, was quickly overtaken, and ere he could stand at bay, the spear of the King had pinned him to the ground, when the dogs setting on him, had almost torn him to pieces, before a party of the noble hunters, with Carvalho at their head, could come up. What was their surprise on finding their sovereign in at the death, when it was supposed that he had followed another quarry in a different direction. All, of course, were loud in praise of his skill and address; none more so than the Duke of Aveiro, who soon rode up as if he had never harboured a thought of treachery.