The mask beneath whose shelter thou may'st read
Men's thoughts, and veil thine own,
Sebastian. 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.
First Citizen.
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!
Second Citizen. Aye, 'tis a gallant shew;
And one which serves, like others, to conceal
Things which must not be told.
