nion, from those which the
king reserved for his exclusive deliberation. Such high favour had
intoxicated him. He affected even towards the Duke of Alva, when
they met in the king's apartments at dinner, a silence and a
haughtiness which revealed at once the arrogance of enmity and the
infatuation of fortune. So little moderation in prosperity, coupled
with the most luxurious habits, a passion for gaming, a craving
appetite for pleasures, and excessive expenses, which reduced him
to receive from every hand, excited against him both envy and
animosity in the austere and factious court of Philip II.; and, on
the first opportunity, inevitably prepared his downfal. This event,
too, he himself hastened by serving too well the distrustful
passions of Philip, and, perhaps, even by exciting them beyond
measure against two men of his own party, Don Juan of Austria and
his secretary Escovedo."

It is impossible to imagine that the character of Philip was not
fathomed by Perez. The peril of his position, as the depositary of the
innermost secrets of the king, could not have escaped his acute mind.
The treachery of his daily services, to which, in the words we have
quoted, allusion is made, must have perpetually reminded him how
probably he was preparing for himself the ruin which before his own eyes
had struck and destroyed more than one of his predecessors. At the same
time, the bent of his disposition carried him readily enough into
intrigue, deceit, and cool remorseless villany. He was not retarded by
any scruple, or abashed by any principle. But he did not lack sagacity.
The power which he loved and abused was acquired and retained easily,
because the exercise of his talents had always been quite in harmony
with the natural flexion of his mind. In the conduct of public affairs,
Philip never had a minister who more dexterously conformed reasons and
actions of policy to the will, or prejudices, or passions of the
sovereign. All the extravagance, and even towards so terrible an enemy
as Alva, all the insolence of Perez, could hardly have shaken his
security. From what he knew, and what he had done, Philip, it is true,
might at any moment be tempted to work his downfal, if not his death;
but, in consequence of that very knowledge and his very deeds, the value
of such an adviser and such a tool was almost sure to protract and avert
his doom. The disgrace and misf