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SEBASTIAN OF PORTUGAL.
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.
