Instant ebooks textbook Node js MongoDB and Angular Web Development The definitive guide to using the MEAN stack to build web applications Developer s Library 2nd Edition Brad Dayley & Brendan Dayley & Caleb Dayley download all chapters
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Second Edition
Brad Dayley
Brendan Dayley
Caleb Dayley
Node.js, MongoDB and Angular Web Development, Second Edition
Copyright © 2018 by Pearson Education, Inc.
All rights reserved. No part of this book shall be reproduced, stored in a retrieval
system, or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying,
recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the publisher. No patent
liability is assumed with respect to the use of the information contained herein.
Although every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this book, the
publisher and author assume no responsibility for errors or omissions. Nor is any
liability assumed for damages resulting from the use of the information contained
herein.
ISBN-13: 978-0-13-465553-6
ISBN-10: 0-13-465553-2
1 17
Trademarks
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have been appropriately capitalized. Pearson cannot attest to the accuracy of this
information. Use of a term in this book should not be regarded as affecting the
validity of any trademark or service mark.
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Editor
Mark Taber
Copy Editor
Geneil Breeze
Indexer
Erika Millen
Compositor
codeMantra
Proofreader
Abigail Manheim
Technical Editor
Jesse Smith
Cover Designer
Chuti Prasertsith
Contents at a Glance
Introduction
I: Getting Started
1 Introducing the Node.js-to-Angular Stack
2 JavaScript Primer
V: Learning Angular
20 Jumping into TypeScript
21 Getting Started with Angular
22 Angular Components
23 Expressions
24 Data Binding
25 Built-in Directives
Index
Contents
Introduction
I: Getting Started
1 Introducing the Node.js-to-Angular Stack
Understanding the Basic Web Development Framework
User
Browser
Webserver
Backend Services
Understanding the Node.js-to-Angular Stack Components
Node.js
MongoDB
Express
Angular
Summary
Next
2 JavaScript Primer
Defining Variables
Understanding JavaScript Data Types
Using Operators
Arithmetic Operators
Assignment Operators
Applying Comparison and Conditional Operators
Implementing Looping
while Loops
do/while Loops
for Loops
for/in Loops
Interrupting Loops
Creating Functions
Defining Functions
Passing Variables to Functions
Returning Values from Functions
Using Anonymous Functions
Understanding Variable Scope
Using JavaScript Objects
Using Object Syntax
Creating Custom-Defined Objects
Using a Prototyping Object Pattern
Manipulating Strings
Combining Strings
Searching a String for a Substring
Replacing a Word in a String
Splitting a String into an Array
Working with Arrays
Combining Arrays
Iterating Through Arrays
Converting an Array into a String
Checking Whether an Array Contains an Item
Adding and Removing Items to Arrays
Adding Error Handling
try/catch Blocks
Throw Your Own Errors
Using finally
Summary
Next
V: Learning Angular
20 Jumping into TypeScript
Learning the Different Types
Understanding Interfaces
Implementing Classes
Class Inheritance
Implementing Modules
Understanding Functions
Summary
Next
21 Getting Started with Angular
Why Angular?
Understanding Angular
Modules
Directives
Data Binding
Dependency Injection
Services
Separation of Responsibilities
Adding Angular to Your Environment
Using the Angular CLI
Generating Content with the CLI
Creating a Basic Angular Application
Creating Your First Angular App
Understanding and Using NgModule
Creating the Angular Bootstrapper
Summary
Next
22 Angular Components
Component Configuration
Defining a Selector
Building a Template
Using Inline CSS and HTML in Angular Applications
Using Constructors
Using External Templates
Injecting Directives
Building a Nested Component with Dependency Injection
Passing in Data with Dependency Injection
Creating an Angular Application that Uses Inputs
Summary
Next
23 Expressions
Using Expressions
Using Basic Expressions
Interacting with the Component Class in Expressions
Using TypeScript in Angular Expressions
Using Pipes
Using Built-in Pipes
Building a Custom Pipe
Creating a Custom Pipe
Summary
Next
24 Data Binding
Understanding Data Binding
Interpolation
Property Binding
Attribute Binding
Class Binding
Style Binding
Event Binding
Two-Way Binding
Summary
Next
25 Built-in Directives
Understanding Directives
Using Built-in Directives
Components Directives
Structural Directives
Attribute Directives
Summary
Next
Caleb Dayley is a university student studying computer science. He tries to learn all
that he can and has taught himself much of what he knows about programming. He
has taught himself several languages, including JavaScript, C#, and, using the first
edition of this book, NodeJS, MongoDB and Angular. He is excited for what the
future holds, and the opportunities to help design and create the next generation of
innovative software that will continue to improve the way we live, work, and play.
Acknowledgments
I’d like to take this page to thank all those who made this title possible. First, I thank
my wonderful wife for the inspiration, love, and support she gives me. I’d never
make it far without you. I also want to thank my boys for the help they are when I
am writing. Thanks to Mark Taber for getting this title rolling in the right direction.
—Brad Dayley
I’d like to thank all those who helped make this book possible for me. First and
foremost, my wife, who pushes me to become greater and gives me all her love. Also
my father, who mentored me not just in writing and programming but in life. My
mother, who has always been there for me when I need her. And finally, Mark
Taber, who gave me the chance to be a part of this.
—Caleb Dayley
Accessing the Free Web Edition
Your purchase of this book in any format includes access to the corresponding Web
Edition, which provides several special online-only features:
The Web Edition can be viewed on all types of computers and mobile devices with
any modern web browser that supports HTML5.
To get access to the Web Edition of Node.js, MongoDB and Angular Web
Development all you need to do is register this book:
1. Go to www.informit.com/register
2. Sign in or create a new account.
3. Enter the ISBN: 9780134655536
4. Answer the questions as proof of purchase.
5. The Web Edition will appear under the Digital Purchases tab on your Account
page. Click the Launch link to access the product.
Introduction
Typical readers of this book want to master Node.js and MongoDB for the purpose
of building highly scalable and high-performing websites. Typical readers also want
to leverage the MVC/MVVM (Model-View-Controller/Model-View-View-Model)
approach of Angular to implement well-designed and structured webpages and web
applications. Overall, Node.js, MongoDB, and Angular provide an easy-to-
implement, fully integrated web development stack that allows you to implement
amazing web applications.
Using Angular technology allows you to build into your webpage logic that can
communicate back to the Node.js server and obtain necessary data from the
MongoDB database. The combination of Node.js, MongoDB, and Angular allows
you to implement interactive, dynamic webpages. The following are just a few of the
things that you will learn while reading this book:
How to implement a highly scalable and dynamic webserver, using Node.js and
Express
How to build server-side web services in JavaScript
How to implement a MongoDB data store for you web applications
How to access and interact with MongoDB from Node.js JavaScript code
How to define static and dynamic web routes and implement server-side scripts
to support them
How to define your own custom Angular components that extend the HTML
language
How to implement client-side services that can interact with the Node.js
Exploring the Variety of Random
Documents with Different Content
With Medina Sidonia he conversed aloud on various subjects, calculated
to place his integrity under a yet broader light; the gratitude he felt for the
protection afforded to his daughter, gave warmth to his manner, and
attracted the heart of Don Hyppolito.
Upon that young man Sebastian cast many approving looks, for there
was a careless intrepidity in the young Spaniard’s manner, and an ardent
precipitation in his speech, which announced a generous and a brave
character. Sebastian loved such characters, and he therefore beheld the
homage of Hyppolito with engaging benignity.
The grandees who accompanied Medina Sidonia forcibly betrayed an
extreme anxiety to depart; the Duke requested them to stay a moment.
“Nobles!” he said, “it was through your importunities that I came hither
to determine on the truth or falsehood of the illustrious person before us,
when you intreated me, you all promised to bear witness to the faithful
testimony I should give, whatever that might prove him. I now insist upon
your performance of this promise, and require that you set off with me on
the instant for the court of our royal master, in order that he may hear from
us together, the singular circumstances of this morning. That done, the
event remains in our sovereign’s breast; we shall have acquitted ourselves
to God, to our conscience, and to this injured monarch.”
Ashamed of opposing so equitable a demand, and trusting to private
representations of their own unwillingness, the nobles were obliged to
assent, and taking leave of Don Sebastian, they descended into the yacht
which had brought them from St. Lucar.
Don Hyppolito lingered behind: no one was near Sebastian; he
approached, and hastily whispered, “Blanche is with her mother—fear not
for them—I will watch over their safety: for that purpose I remain in St.
Lucar.” Hyppolito hurried away, and joining his party, was conveyed to
shore.
In whispers to his father, he excused himself from attending him to
Madrid, pleading the comparative insignificance of his youth, and the
indecorum of leaving his mother alone. The Duke, little dreaming of the
romantic scheme which his son was then revolving, made no hesitation of
according to his wish, and the Duchess was too much gratified with such
filial attention to receive it without pleasure.
Having left his parents at their own house, Hyppolito hastened to detail
the scene he had just witnessed to the expecting Blanche.
In his progress across one of the squares, he was stopped by a knot of
young lords, who knowing the visit that had been proposed, now stayed him
with various questions. Hyppolito’s answers were full of his usual candour,
and were mixed with so many passionate expressions and sympathy with
the wrongs of Sebastian, and so many invectives against the inactive
Portuguese, that he attracted and fixed the attention of a person, who
clothed as a mendicant, remained without being noticed upon one spot close
to the speakers.
After uttering a few unthinking jests, the young lords went away, and
Hyppolito was now proceeding alone, when the mendicant followed, and
drew nigh to him: Hyppolito threw him a piece of money unasked; the man
passed it with trepidation, and said in a low voice, “I am no beggar, noble
Guzman! but a friend of him you compassionate; one, that you see, is
willing to risk his life on any scheme that may serve Sebastian of Portugal.”
Hyppolito turned joyfully round, and looking on the stranger, saw the
features of a brave and honest youth, under the squalid rags in which he was
enveloped. He made him a sign to follow at some distance, and getting out
of the streets as fast as possible, the two young men found themselves in a
lonely thicket, just beyond its precincts, “Now then, say on,” cried
Hyppolito, “tell me your name and purpose,—we both risk much by this
sudden confidence; but who would not risk all, save his immortal soul, for
the injured Sebastian.”
“I am Don Christopher of Crato,” replied the stranger, blushing and
sighing as he pronounced the name he mentioned, “my grandfather was
great uncle to Sebastian, I am therefore bound to his fortunes by the ties of
blood. Having returned into France after the base detention of my dear
sovereign at Florence, I obtained from the French King a solemn promise of
inviolable protection (a promise written by his own hand, and which I now
possess) for Sebastian and his Queen, should I ever be able to effect their
liberation. For this purpose the generous King has given me a large sum of
money, with which I hastened to Naples, determined to attempt the rescue
of Sebastian either by bribery or by artifice; but I found him removed to St.
Lucar: hither I have followed him, and disguised as you see, am now
watching an opportunity for the performance of a duty.”
At the name of Don Christopher, (whom the late Emanuel de Castro had
so often extolled at Villa Rosolia,) Hyppolito dismissed his fears and
suspicions, and at once unfolded to him the design he had himself formed
during his visit to the galley.
From the countenance of her Captain, and the mean salary attached to
his station, Hyppolito believed he might be induced to receive a rich reward
for conniving at the escape of his prisoners; all the jewellery in his own
possession he had already in thought, devoted to this generous purpose;—
even the brilliant chanfraine which had sparkled round the brow of his
horse when its master was proclaimed victor at a tournament, and he had
ridden up to Blanche to receive her praises and her smiles. But Don
Christopher shewed him the wisdom of keeping these gems as a fund for
future emergency. “I have enough for our purpose:” he said, “enough to
take us into France, and after that, I can offer from myself, a noble asylum
to my royal relation. The fairest and the richest heiress of Brittany, will
bless me with her hand the moment I return to claim it. Own that I love my
King, Don Hyppolito, when I confess that nothing but his service should
have torn me from the feet of my adorable Adelaide.”
Hyppolito smiled approbation, and returning to the plan for Sebastian’s
escape, continued to converse on that subject, till a neighbouring clock
twice reminded them that they should part. They now separated: Hyppolito
promising to impart the meeting to Kara Aziek, and Don Christopher
expressing a hope, that should he repair at dusk to her abode, in less lowly
attire, she would admit him into her presence.
The interesting circumstances which Hyppolito related to Kara Aziek,
shed a bright light over her long benighted spirit: at the description of
Sebastian’s conduct, and the impressions it produced on all the beholders,
she shed tears of exultation: her life was closing, but could she preserve his,
bestow Blanche upon Don Hyppolito, and obtain their solemn promise to
forget that the blood of Kings flowed in the veins of their children, she
should die happy. Some such prospect now opened on her, and the ardent
language of young Guzman taught her to believe it near.
Blanche spoke not; though her eyes, (fixed on Hyppolito with such
fulness of love and gratitude, that she thought not what they was
expressing) thrilled through all his frame, awakening a transporting
conviction, that he was exclusively beloved.
No sooner had Don Christopher paid his respectful visit to Kara Aziek,
than the two young men proceeded to commence their attack upon the
honesty, or the compassion, of Haro, captain of the galley. The man was
necessitous and he was humane: both motives rendered him accessible.
Since the recognition of his prisoner by the Duke of Medina, he had granted
to him, (by the Duke’s request) the indulgence of walking over the vessel
with his ancles unfettered: this indulgence might, he thought, be turned into
an apology for his disappearance. Thus free in his limbs, nothing would be
sooner credited than that the wretched Sebastian had thrown himself into
the sea, and perished by a voluntary death.
Haro proposed that Don Christopher and Don Hyppolito, should come
some midnight under the stern of the vessel, when he would undertake to
have all the slaves, and other officers, either at rest or at a distance; he
alone, watching by Sebastian.
To convey the King privately down the side of the galley into the boat
without discovery, might be difficult, but not impracticable; and the
moment the boat received him and rowed away round the other end of the
galley, Haro was to extinguish his lamp as if by accident, fling some large
substance into the sea loaded with the chains of Sebastian, and by his outcry
bring all the other persons to this end of the ship.
The clank of irons and the descent of a heavy body, might well pass for
the last plunge of the living Sebastian: with a conviction of his self-murder,
the sanguine Hyppolito believed that even Philip himself would rest
satisfied. Should success crown their project, Don Christopher was to
proceed into France with his prize; and as in that case, Aziek would remain
behind, and Blanche be denied the joy of embracing her father, Hyppolito
projected a scheme to attract his mother into meeting these two friends at a
lonely fishing lodge which he possessed on the coast, only a few leagues
off. It would be easy to land the King there, allow him a few hours
conference with his child, and afterwards depart with him and Aziek for
France.
This arrangement was no sooner settled, and Haro put into possession of
half the sum he was to receive in recompense for so important a service,
than he permitted an interview between his captive and the two young
noblemen, who conversing with him apart from the other slaves, (a
circumstance now so frequent that it was not regarded) opened before him a
prospect of freedom and of peace.
Like light suddenly restored to the blind, was this amazing hope to the
soul of Sebastian: touched by the chivalric ardour of two youths to whom
his qualities were so little known, and recalled to the fond wishes of a father
and a husband, he prest his hand on his heart unable to express in any other
way, what was swelling there.
After some moments silence, he uttered a few animated words of
gratitude and gratification, coupled with apprehension for their safety,
should he accept their services, and accident hereafter discover them to the
King of Spain.
Don Christopher declared he risked nothing, since he was already exiled
from his country, and dependant on the favour of the French monarch, to
whom he should return: and Hyppolito laughing at the chimera of a
discovery, braved it as a phantom, protesting his belief that accident could
not develope their share in a transaction to which no other person than
Haro, would be privy.
His tongue, eloquently, though hastily, represented the joy which her
father’s release would bestow on Blanche and on Kara Aziek, whom he
reluctantly confessed to be now in a state, which rendered a peaceful mind
absolutely necessary if they would preserve her life.
At this argument Sebastian lost sight of all other objects, and eagerly
yielded assent. To regain, to preserve her, was it not to regain more than
liberty? and where was the obscure spot in creation, to which he would not
fly for that blessed purpose?
Don Christopher briefly referred him to Haro for the management of his
part of the plot; and in order to silence all the King’s apprehension, declared
his belief that an offer from the French King would allure Haro into France,
where an honourable provision might recompence him for thus abandoning
his country—in such a case, neither Haro nor Don Christopher need dread
being known as the accomplices in Sebastian’s escape, when the time
should arrive in which he would re-appear as a candidate for Portugal.
Sebastian listened patiently, then sadly smiling, said in a voice of
determination. “Mark me, generous young man! too long have I struggled
against the visible will of Heaven, too long have I sacrificed all that is
nearest and dearest to me, for that enfeebled people who have shewn
themselves rather disposed to clamour against my injuries, than bravely to
arm and redress them. For their sakes I have made shipwreck of all that was
precious unto me: alas! if I may but save one little remnant—if I may but
find some retirement to shelter me and mine, where we may live and die in
happy oblivion—my heart will have attained all its present wishes. I feel
that I have acquitted myself of my duty to Portugal, and now I abandon her
throne for ever.”
“What, Sire!” exclaimed the young Hyppolito in a transport of awakened
hope, “and the amiable Blanche, do you abandon for her, all claim.”
Sebastian’s penetrating eye read the lover’s heart; he smiled graciously,
and pressing his hand, said, “Yes, for her also, I speak: her safety and her
happiness are the sole objects of her father’s anxiety; and how are they to be
secured, save in domestic privacy? Think of her again, Hyppolito, as you
were used to do; forget the Princess of Portugal, but ever protect and
cherish the unpretending Blanche.”
Hyppolito hid his suddenly suffused face upon the hand which he now
carried to his lips; his heart beat with strange and delightful emotion. Don
Christopher earnestly strove to alter the resolution of Sebastian: the latter
was inflexible. “I owe the remainder of my life,” he observed, “to my
family and my friends; the period is too short for us to waste it in fresh
struggles: let us be content Don Christopher to pass it in tranquillity.”
The captain of the galley now approached, and breaking off their
discourse, the young men hastened to impart the consent they had obtained,
to name the day of their enterprize, and to return to St. Lucar.
The short interval between this period and that which was to crown or to
blast all their expectations, was spent by the young friends in active
preparation, and by Kara Aziek and her daughter in the most agitating
anxiety. The stimulus thus given to the nerves of Kara Aziek, imparted a
transient hope of returning health: a bright glow was ever on her cheek, a
brighter light for ever in her eye. With a motive for desiring life, the power
of retaining life seemed to be granted; and while she opened her heart to
receive the sanguine anticipations of Blanche and Hyppolito, they fondly
fancied that her hour of danger was passed.
The Duchess Medina Sidonia was wilfully kept ignorant of the important
affair now agitating: Hyppolito secretly resolved to meet the punishment of
his temerity alone, (should any chance discover it to King Philip) since, if
he could solemnly swear and prove that his parents were not accessary to
the act, he justly believed that not even the deadliest tyrant would dare
violate their lives, or their fortunes.
The evening preceding that on which Sebastian was to be carried off,
Aziek and her daughter were removed to the fishing lodge of Hyppolito, (a
lone house almost buried among rocks and thickets) of which only one
purblind domestic had the charge.
Hyppolito suggested this place as more suited to an invalid than a noisy
sea-port, besides which he urged, that his mother, who might not hazard the
singular act of visiting a humble individual in her mean abode, might safely
give them the meeting here, and occasionally come to share in the pious
cares of Blanche.
Satisfied with so natural and considerate an arangement, the Duchess
hastened to embrace the suffering Aziek, whom even this short journey
contributed to enfeeble. Knowing the effect which solicitude too highly
raised, ever produced on her mother, Blanche forbade Hyppolito to mention
the real night of his enterprize; certain that such an enterprize was on the
point of execution, she would in some degree be prepared for its failure or
success, yet being deceived as to the precise instant would spare her the
useless torture of suspence.
Obedient to this judicious injunction, on the very evening of their plot,
the young friends named a succeeding one, and departed for St. Lucar.
Blanche had now to rouse up the whole force of her spirit to support the
hard task of concealing an agitation which amounted to agony. As she hung
over the couch of her pallid mother, indistinct apostrophe’s to Heaven,
perpetually faltered on her lips, while hiding the flush of her cheeks and the
restless wandering of her eye, from the unconscious Duchess, she strove to
smile and to talk on subjects of trivial interest.
It was a serene and balmy evening, and as the stars appeared one by one
in the firmament, and the illuminated sea slowly advanced and receded
from the cliffs surrounding the fishing lodge; so much of peace and beauty
pervaded every object, that Kara Aziek felt the scene tranquillize and
renovate her.
“Suffer me to remain here, my child!” she said, (as Blanche hearing the
clock strike ten, would have had her retire to rest) “the sight of these
boundless and sublime objects, seems to elevate and calm my spirit. Never
before have I beheld them with such feelings. How wonderous! how
magnificent, how surpassing all human ideas of nobleness, wisdom, and
goodness, must be that great being by whom they were created! it is fit I
should habituate myself to contemplate and adore that divine perfection
which I may so soon be summoned to adore in the courts of Heaven.”
Aziek paused, and her eyes floating in sweet though mournful tears,
remained fixed upon the stars. Blanche turned weeping away, and the
Duchess ventured to utter a few words of hope.
Kara Aziek smiled gratefully, shook her head, and repeated in so low a
voice that her words were scarce audible, “I am past hope, and you must not
deceive yourselves: might I but behold my Sebastian once again, know him
safe, and obtain from him one promise, I should die completely happy.”
Blanche spoke not: she clasped her hands together with convulsive
energy, and her heart only uttered a fervent petition to the Omnipotent for
the success of her lover.
The Duchess seated herself near the couch of the invalid. “And what,
dearest madam!” she said respectfully, “what commands do you leave me
for my future conduct to this dear girl whom I love as I do Hyppolito? a day
must arrive when other affections than filial ones, will arise in her bosom—
how then am I to decide for the Princess of Portugal?”
Kara Aziek withdrew her eyes from above, and fixed them on the
Duchess: the look which they exchanged at that moment, needed no
interpreter. “Decide for her happiness, my kind friend! and let the generous
man who may devote himself to the obscure and untitled Blanche, accept
the blessing of her dying mother, for her dowry. I have nothing else to
bestow.”
Drowned in tears, flowing from various sources, Blanche precipitated
herself by the side of her mother, covering her hands with kisses; the
Duchess resumed, “Such are your sentiments, but what are those of Don
Sebastian? Would not he frown on the presumptuous house of Medina
Sidonia, were they to hazard a wish for uniting their proudest boast, their
brightest hope, with the heiress of Portugal? My Hyppolito feels far more
than a brother’s love for our Blanche; his passion is worthy its object, for he
loved her ere he knew her rank.”
Blanche heard not her mother’s reply, for a loud blast of wind, shaking
the walls of the fishing lodge, made her start up and hurry to the window.
The stars were disappearing under volumes of clouds, which this sudden
wind had driven up from the horizon; extreme darkness was succeeding to
light and beauty:—gloom was favourable to the views of the adventurers,
and Blanche blest the darkness, even while trembling at the storm.
Kara Aziek and the Duchess continued so long and so earnest in
conversation, that they did not notice the watchful looks of her about whom
they were talking: by degrees the wind fell, and although the stars were but
faintly discernible at intervals, there was still enough light to guide
experienced manners on their road over the waves. Blanche stole back to
her former station, and knelt down by her mother’s couch, listening to her
discourse. She had scarcely placed herself, when the sound of distant oars
grew on the stillness of night. At first, her limbs lost their power, and she
could not rise from her kneeling posture, but quickly recovering again, she
started abruptly up, and complaining of the sensation of suffocation, opened
a door leading down a slope which terminated on the sands.
Having bounded away with bird-like swiftness, she turned aside among
some rocks which formed a creek for the shelter of small vessels; by the
dim light, she fancied that she perceived a boat afar off: her eyes remained
fixed on the object—the night grew clearer, she saw more distinctly, and at
length became certain that a single boat was approaching, rowed by two
men.
But where was the third? where was her father? it might be, that he was
concealed at the bottom of the little vessel, or that Hyppolito had failed. The
rowers frequently looked behind them, as if afraid of pursuit, but they made
no signal to her.
Blanche leaped upon a high point, and waved her handkerchief; the
boatmen answered only by redoubling their exertions to make the land.
They approached—they moved swifter as they advanced nearer; and the
agitated girl hastening from the cliffs to the sands, eagerly rushed into the
very waves; for now she beheld by the star-light, a human figure lying at
the bottom of the boat.
The voice of Hyppolito warned her of her danger, and the next instant
some one plunged into the water, and springing to shore caught her in his
arms: it was Sebastian himself.
By the same impulse, both father and daughter sunk on their knees in
each other’s embrace; their hearts gushed out at their eyes in silent
gratitude.
Don Christopher hurried to break the joyful news to her, whose patient
suffering had quickened their exertions; and Hyppolito mooring his bark,
flew to share in the happiness he had bestowed.
Rising from the sand, Sebastian now beheld the amiable youth kneeling
by the side of Blanche; he stooped to embrace him also. As he encircled
them both, and pressed their beating hearts together, he fervently repeated,
“I bless you both, my children! may I not say, that I join you in your
father’s arms? would to God that this union may be eternal!”
Transported to ecstacy, Hyppolito hurried forth a crowd of rapturous and
tumultuous expressions, in which Sebastian peculiarly distinguished the
promise of resigning for Blanche, and for her offspring, all pretensions to
dispute the crown of Portugal.
Blanche answered the eager questions of her lover, and the more
temperate inquiry of her father, by sinking her blushing face on the shoulder
of him to whom she was given, and tenderly returning the pressure of his
hand. Hyppolito was in heaven, and forgot for awhile that the heart-wearied
Sebastian was anxiously waiting the re-appearance of Don Christopher,
from whom he was to learn whether Kara Aziek had strength to bear an
interview.
Don Christopher at last appeared; and his countenance shewed how
much he had been affected. Sebastian silently accepted the offer of his
supporting arm, as they turned towards the house, leaving Hyppolito to lead
the tottering steps of Blanche, whom joy, grief, and love, rendered feeble.
Imagination must picture the solemn and moving scene which took place
in the apartment of Kara Aziek; the tears, the embraces, the broken
exclamations, the fond and distracted perusal of each other’s altered
persons, the alternate bursts of transport and anguish, which succeeded to
this certainty of being restored to each other, and this fear of being doomed
to part for ever.
When a little tranquilized, Kara Aziek desired to be left alone with her
husband, and then she unfolded to him her last wishes for him and their
daughter. Sebastian’s soul had gone on the like track with her’s; she found
that the same events had produced on each the same effects, and that he was
as willing to promise, as she was to exact, a determination of abandoning
every thought of Portugal.
Believed self-destroyed, he was resolved to enter France with Don
Christopher, and retiring to some solitude with her, and such of his friends
as chose to join his retirement, pass his life in such happy obscurity as they
had done at Cachoeira. Though separated from Blanche by the union to
which they destined her, they believed this sacrifice demanded of them, in
gratitude for the services of the Medina Sidonia family; and since
occasional visits from Blanche and Hyppolito, would enliven their
retirement, Sebastian tried to persuade his Aziek that they might yet find
happiness.
“A few brief years,” she said tenderly, “and then my beloved, we shall
enjoy it together. I go to prepare a place for thee in that world to which we
have so long accustomed ourselves to look for imperishable joys! My soul
exhausted with suffering, languishes for the rest of heaven. Shake not thus,
my Sebastian—what mortal agony convulses those dear features? Wouldst
thou then retain me in a world like this? O! rather rejoice that I am going to
leave it. Shall I not breathe my last on thy faithful breast? O blessing! O
comfort unutterable!”
Sebastian believed at this moment that she was indeed drawing her latest
breath; for spent with emotion, her heart ceased to beat, and her eyes
closed. He folded her in his arms, and uttering a doleful cry, remained
gazing on her pale face with the stare of madness.
Alarmed by his voice, his friends and daughter rushed in, and finding
that Kara Aziek yet breathed, though almost imperceptibly, they exerted
their influence to persuade him to withdraw awhile.
During their short absence from the apartment, Don Christopher
hesitatingly asked, what measures his King meant to pursue; the vessel that
was to carry them to France, lay at anchor two leagues up the coast, and as
Kara Aziek could not be moved thither, without the certainty of immediate
death, Don Christopher ventured to hint that his sovereign’s safety could
only be secured by his departing with him alone.
At this friendly suggestion, some of his youthful impetuosity burst from
Sebastian: “What! leave her!” he exclaimed, “My Aziek! my wife! my life’s
comforter! the very soul of all my past happiness!—no, no, young man. I
will stay by her, till heaven restores, or tears her from me: after that blow,
all the world will be nothing to the undone Sebastian, and Philip may
triumph as he will, over this senseless body. Think of your own safety—I
ought to urge you—but my whole soul is swallowed up in one sad object.
You have my thanks for your loving care—some other time perhaps,”——
Sebastian could not proceed, and again he returned to the room where he
left Kara Aziek.
Recovered by the assistance of the Duchess and Blanche, Kara Aziek
had strength sufficient to assure them that she was better, and believed
herself capable of being removed in any way that was requisite to speed the
departure of her husband. To this assurance, Sebastian replied with a steady
declaration of his late taken resolution, and being joined by Hyppolito in
arguing against the chance of a discovery at a lodge so little known, when
the story of his self-murder would lull inquiry, he vanquished the reluctance
of Kara Aziek to let him remain beside her.
Don Christopher then suggested the prudence of suffering the Duchess to
return to St. Lucar, lest her longer absence should create any curiosity, and
with an unwilling mind, after receiving again Sebastian’s pledge that he
would resign Blanche to Hyppolito, she departed from the fishing lodge.
For three successive days and nights, Kara Aziek enjoyed the sacred
pleasure of seeing her sick bed attended by the object dearest to her on
earth; whenever she opened her eyes, during the day or the night, still they
met the anxious gaze either of her husband or her daughter. Hyppolito too,
watched her with a son’s tenderness, and the attached Baptista shared in all
their feelings.
Contemplating her husband restored to liberty by the noble youth with
whom Blanche was to unite her destiny, seeing in Don Christopher the
faithful friend that was to repair her loss, and cheer the spirit of Sebastian,
Kara Aziek felt a grateful and placid happiness, which sweetened the pains
of approaching death. How much was there to be thankful for, in a death
thus softened, which otherwise must have approached in unutterable horror!
She ventured not to repine that her life was prematurely abridged by late
sorrow, since of former felicity, she had enjoyed so large a portion; and
fixing her thoughts on that eternity which would re-unite her with her
husband, she gently yielded to the decay of all her powers.
Like gradual sleep, death stole over her faculties and her feelings; she
lay stretched on a couch, losing by degrees the powers of motion, and of
speech, the faculty of hearing, and of sight.
Sebastian hung over her marble form, speechless, pale, and despairing:
he spoke, and she heard him not; he touched her, and the death-cold hand
that returned not the agonizing grasp of his, convinced him that she felt not
the pressure. But still her closing eyes were directed towards him, and the
heavenly smile that moved her lips, spoke to his breaking heart of love and
better hopes.
Too soon these dim eyes ceased to see the objects before them, her faint
breathing was scarce perceptible,—she breathed only at intervals; at length
her eyelids closed for ever, and she breathed no more!
Blessed close of a virtuous life! what are all the wild transports of
earthly joy, when compared with the mercy of thus “falling asleep” to wake
in Paradise?
Sebastian was standing with his eyes fixed on her face, and his hand
holding hers; he watched her yet, but his looks were no longer sad and
patient, they expressed alarm, anguish, desperation. He put his lips to hers;
no breath mingled with his; his hand sought her heart,—all there was still!
—a mortal cry came from his very soul, and dropping the cold arm he was
grasping, the desolate Sebastian fell lifeless upon the body of her he
lamented.
Supported by her lover, Blanche was kneeling by the bed, distracted
between grief for her mother, and fear for her father’s senses; Hyppolito
hastily resigned her to Baptista, and judging this to be the decisive moment,
he dashed away his own tears, and motioning to the pale Don Christopher,
they lifted Sebastian from the chamber into the open air.
Trusting him to their attention, Blanche allowed herself to yield to her
own sorrow, and remained weeping over the beauteous remains of the
tenderest of women. Meanwhile Hyppolito and Don Christopher hastened
to the boat, placed their royal charge within it, covered him with their
clothes, and swiftly rowed away towards that part of the coast where their
larger vessel was in waiting. When Sebastian recovered, he looked round,
and beheld himself in an open boat on the wide ocean, over which the grey
of morning just began to glimmer; he saw that Don Christopher and
Hyppolito were his companions. At first his scattered senses were unable to
recollect more than his late escape from the galley, and he fancied himself
newly rescued from that dismal situation; but soon the dejected looks of his
friends, and returning memory, banished this short delusion, and he awoke
to the consciousness of being bereft of all he loved.
Sebastian had risen from the bottom of the boat, he now sat down again
without having spoken; and neither uttering groan nor sigh, neither
shedding a tear, nor raising his head, he remained like one stupefied into
stone.
This dismal silence was unbroken by his pitying friends; they plyed their
oars unremittingly, and after much toil came along side the ship, which they
hailed and mounted.
All this time Sebastian spoke not; he suffered Hyppolito to lead him into
the cabin, while Don Christopher remained above, to give directions for her
immediate sailing. When the latter re-appeared, he rose to depart. In silence
he bent his knee to kiss the hand of Sebastian,—in silence the grief-wrapt
Sebastian placed his hands on his head in token of benediction.
“You bless me as your son, my father!” asked the young man, with much
emotion.
The desolate Sebastian strained him in his arms, and attempted to speak,
but finding the effort impossible, he repeated the embrace, and motioning
for his friends to withdraw, he shut himself in the cabin, and delivered
himself up to despair.
Hyppolito earnestly commended the unfortunate King to his friend Don
Christopher, settled with him their mode of communication, promised to
visit France the instant he could obtain permission to travel, and bring with
him his wedded Blanche; then exchanging an affectionate farewel, he
leaped into the boat, again seized the oars, and toiled through the sullen
waves to the fishing lodge.
THE CONCLUSION.
About thirty years after the period in which Don Sebastian was
conveyed into France, a majestic old man was seen to enter the palace of
the Braganza’s, at Villa Viciosa; his mourning garments were plain, but not
ignoble; his steps were supported by a staff; the hair that parted from his
serene, yet time-worn brow, was whiter than silver; in his eye, and on his
lips, sat a sort of sweet mournfulness, that added a touching interest to his
venerable age; the ashes of that youthful fire which had once blazed there,
still remained to say that such fire had been; but the fire itself was extinct.
Resignation, peace, and benignity, had taken its place.
He enquired for the Duke and Duchess of Braganza: the former was at
the village of Almada, but the young Duchess was alone, and the stranger
was conducted to her presence.
Upon entering a splendid hall, where sculpture, painting, and armorial
decorations united to bestow grandeur, the hoary-headed traveller paused,
and fixed his eyes upon one object. It was a young and admirably lovely
woman, who had just laid her sleeping infant upon a couch, where she stood
gazing on him with a mother’s fondness.
Her graceful figure owed nothing to the imposing aid of dress; a plain
sattin robe, and a cluster of roses knotting up her bright, dark hair, were its
only ornaments; but “she was covered with the light of beauty,” and wanted
no other decorations.
At the sound of a heavy sigh, she turned round, and perceiving a
stranger, hastened forward to meet him. The old man continued looking at
her as she advanced: “my eyes are somewhat dim,” he said, in a voice
broken by emotion rather than by feebleness, “but I think you are the last
surviving child of her who is now an angel in heaven!”
The young Duchess trembled with sudden emotion, and her fine
countenance assumed an expression of veneration, joy, and sorrow, which
heightened its charms; she half bent her knee, while exclaiming, “who is it
that I behold? O majestic stranger, dare I believe that I see in you—”
“The father of your mother!” replied the old man, tears trickling down
his cheek, “the widowed, wandering Sebastian.”
Luisa sunk at his feet, and devoutly kissed them. “You return then, at
last!” she said, weeping with delight, “all who have known or persecuted
you, my honoured father, are vanished from the earth. Here in the arms of
your remaining race, your old age may now pass in security and honour,
and your latest sigh be breathed on the bosom of affectionate children.”
As she spoke, she tenderly led him towards a seat, where placing herself
beside him, she continued to wait his answer, with both hands clasping one
of his.
Sebastian fondly regarded her a long time in affecting silence, the tears
chasing one another down his venerable face, increasing as they flowed, till
he could discern her no longer.
“Pardon me my child!” he said, “the sight of you brings back the
feelings of my youth. At that period I loved and possessed the dearest of
women: at that period your mother was a young and lovely creature like
yourself; I had friends and kindred: where are they now? all gone down to
dust! O it is sad to think that I have outlived them all; that in you and your
husband I behold the second generation from myself, and from my cousin
of Braganza. Mighty Providence! what an instant is the life of mortal man!”
“Tell me, my child, (he added, after a thoughtful pause) are you happy?
do you possess in your husband such a friend as your heart devotes itself to
with perfect sincerity?”
A vivid glow kindled on the cheek of Luisa, her eyes were instantly full
of her soul: “I am the happiest of women,” she said ardently, “the whole
world contains nothing of what is valuable, great, or endearing, that is not
comprised in the character of my Juan. O my father, I am only too happy;
and my fond heart trembles sometimes at its own felicity.”
Tears glittered in her brilliant eyes, and the love that blushed through
every vein of her delicate frame, communicated a sad thrill to those of the
aged wanderer.
“Gone, gone, for ever gone!” he repeated mournfully; then stopping,
added with a divine smile, “not so: in the world to which I hasten Luisa,
these sweet emotions will revive again, even for me. Surely our virtuous
affections are not destined to perish?”
A smile of equal brightness answered this remark. “But tell me, dearest
Sir, whither have you been wandering? and how has your old age been
supported with those comforts which should follow it everywhere?”
“I shall make winter nights seem short,” replied Sebastian! “when I
relate to you, all that I have seen and felt. Since the death of her whom no
time can efface from this widowed heart, you know that I have lived a life
of wandering. I have traversed Europe, Africa, and Asia, on foot, with no
other companion than this staff and scrip; no other protection save my grey
hairs. My pleasure has been the study of human character under all the
accidents of different climates, laws, and customs; my duty has been the
task of instructing and enlightening the ignorant or wicked of the countries
through which I passed. Gratitude and kindness have rarely failed of
recompensing these efforts, and I return therefore in good-will with all my
fellow creatures.”
“Yet ah! Sir, how could you separate from my dear parents?”
“Had you felt what I have felt, Luisa,” replied Sebastian, raising his head
and fixing his eyes on her, “you would not ask that question. I was bereaved
of my soul. When Kara Aziek was ravished from me by death, I saw all my
faithful adherents ruined and dispersed through their fidelity to my hopeless
cause; I had no other way to end their destructive efforts, and ceaseless
importunities, but to remove beyond their reach. I left France and journeyed
into Persia to the court of my friend Schah Abbas: twice I returned to
Europe, twice embraced my children and their offspring. Twelve years ago I
entered Spain a third time; I found you an orphan, and the only surviving
memorial of Blanche and Hyppolito. What then could bind me to a place
where but one unconscious child remained? that child one whom I dared
not claim or take to myself? I departed again, and it was not till I heard in
Germany, (where as his friend, yet unknown by my real name, I had
followed the steps of the great Gustavus Adolphus) that you were the wife
of Braganza, that I determined to return and close my life under your roof.
There is something awful and striking, my child, in this union with the race
of Braganza: their claim to my abdicated crown, is next to your own: those
claims are now joined—what great event does Providence intend?”
The young Duchess fixed on him a look of trouble mixed with heroism
—“I sometimes venture to believe,” she said, “that my admirable Juan is
ordained to restore the glory of Portugal. The machinations of Spain have
failed hitherto of ensnaring him; he yet remains in his country, the idol of its
people, the leading star of its nobles. O! my father, how many frightful plots
have been formed to deprive him of life or liberty! he has ever scorned to
live with less than the splendor befitting his royal blood, and has continued
to spend his princely revenues in princely acts: this conduct has fixed every
eye and every heart upon him alone; the Spanish court have become
alarmed, and not daring to use violence, have artfully sought to entrap him
by a shew of favour.”
Olivares, the prime minister of Philip IV. would have persuaded Juan to
accept the government of Milan; but what Italian government could tempt
him who knew himself the lawful heir to a throne? On the successful revolt
of the Catalans, this artful politician sent to demand the assistance of my
husband; Juan would not assist in oppressing a brave and outraged people,
and he refused to appear under arms in such a cause. Dangerous was this
noble frankness! the Spaniard dissembling his resentment by a mask of
confidence, appointed Juan to command the troops which then lined the
coast, protecting it against the threatened attack of the French fleet; the
navy of Spain came to menace them in turn, and its admiral Ossorio, invited
my Braganza with his principal officers to an entertainment on board his
vessel. Providentially, the secretary (a Portuguese by birth) seized with
remorse, privily informed us that Ossorio had orders to sail away with his
victims for the remotest Spanish port.
“Whilst we debated how to elude this treachery without appearing to
suspect its existence, a storm dispersed the rival fleets, and drove the
admiral’s ship, a total wreck, into the harbour of Cadiz.”
“Providential indeed,” exclaimed Sebastian, “what followed this?”
“Disappointed in his base design, Olivares was not slow in forming
another;” resumed the Duchess, “he invested Braganza with some mockery
of power, the duty of which consisted in his visiting the fortresses
throughout Portugal, inspecting their state, and reporting it to the court of
Madrid. The friends of my dear lord discovered that the same orders which
had been given to Ossorio, were issued to the Spanish garrisons; he was to
be seized, detained, and hurried into Castille.
“My Juan’s answer to this proposed favor, was worthy of his illustrious
soul: he told Olivares that the next heir to the crown of Portugal, deemed
any other title a degradation rather than a distinction:—he declined the
office, and the name annexed to it.”
“There spoke his noble blood!” exclaimed Sebastian, while some
youthful fire warmed his veins, “Heaven’s blessing be on him! may he fulfil
the prophetic hopes which your words kindle in this time-chilled heart!—
Go on, sweet daughter! go on!”
Luisa with all the enthusiasm of ardent affection, resumed her discourse.
“The spirit of her noblest Grandee appears to have lighted up a happy
flame in the bosoms of a few gallant patriots: whole provinces have refused
to follow the banners of Spain in her attempt to recover Barcelona. The city
of Evora resisting an oppressive tax lately levied by our foreign governors,
have loudly called for their legitimate sovereign, Juan of Braganza: the
garrisons, almost emptied of their Spanish soldiers, (for Philip needs every
aid in his war with Catalonia and France) offer an easy prey to our
countrymen, whenever they shall have courage to assert their independence.
“As yet, no plan has been formed, no absolute party made for either
pretender to the succession. The families D’Avegro, and Villa-Real, plead
their affinity to the throne; but my husband’s right is too clear for dispute:
your’s alone—and O! how joyfully will he bow to it—may pass before
him.”
Sebastian smiled, and shook his head, “The world and I, my dear
daughter, have long since shaken hands, and said farewel to each other: I
have no more to do with its honours or its pleasures: these eyes see but one
place of rest, and I am fast hastening to it. Sceptres and crowns, at fourscore
years, are the toys and rattles of second childhood, and to desire them is to
prove that we are become infants again. To rejoice in the emancipation of
Portugal from an oppressive yoke, to rejoice at beholding the reins of her
government in young and able hands, is yet permitted me. I would
cheerfully devote these grey hairs to the dust, could that effect so blessed an
event.
“The groans of a people once too dear to me—ever dear to me—reach
my heart even yet. O might I live to see them freed from their grievous
burthen; to see thee, my child, share thy lawful inheritance with my noble
kinsman, how would it cheer, how would it exalt my parting soul.”
Luisa was about to answer, when the doors of the saloon opening,
discovered a crowd of officers, attendants, and guards, in the midst of
whom was the Duke of Braganza. Luisa rose to welcome her husband; and
as he dismissed his train, the doors closed again, and he advanced alone into
the apartment.
Earnest to observe the countenance of Braganza, Sebastian inclined his
venerable person, and lifted up the white locks which obscured his sight.
His imagination had represented the husband of Luisa, with a mien
dignified, but somewhat austere, and a brow armed with the lofty courage
of his conduct. On the contrary, he beheld a man in the prime of life, whose
elegantly proportioned figure moved with gentle gracefulness; whose face,
(seriously sweet) invited love, destroyed apprehension, and spoke a heart
warmed with the most amiable affections.
The soft tenderness of his eyes as he took and kissed the hand of his
wife, was suddenly changed into the brightness of glad surprise, when she
hastily told him who was awaiting his embrace: Braganza broke away, and
hurried to throw himself at the feet of his illustrious relative.
Sebastian bent to raise and to press him in his arms, “I need no other
warrant of thy worth, my dear son,” he exclaimed, “than these sweet looks:
you are like the noblest child of the Braganza race. My pretty Diego! how
freshly I remember him!”
“At what a moment, Sire, do I behold you!” exclaimed Braganza, “the
time is critical: Portugal stands on the brink of a great revolution: she is
resolved to make one glorious effort—to perish or be free.”
The aged King raised his hands and eyes to heaven in an ecstacy: the
Duchess briefly informed her husband of her grandfather’s resolution never
to resume the throne which he had so long abandoned. Braganza
endeavoured to combat this resolution with the rhetoric of one who speaks
from the heart; but Sebastian had reason on his side, and his arguments
were unanswerable.
When this amicable contest was ended, the Duke resumed the subject
which had led to it. “I am come,” he said, (and as he spoke, his eyes kindled
into the fire of enthusiasm) “I am come from a secret assembly of the most
potent nobles and citizens in Lisbon: they met at Almeyda, to swear fidelity
to each other, and to the sacred cause of freedom. They demand a leader;
and it is upon me that they have fixed their eyes. Luisa, I am yours; I am
doubly yours, for you have made me a father—it is you therefore that must
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