aid he, and
those of her counsellors who desire peace, are more eager, than ever for
negotiation. She is very much afflicted with the loss of Deventer, and is
quarrelling with the French ambassador about the new conspiracy for her
assassination. The opportunity is a good one, and if she writes an answer
to my letter, said Alexander, we can keep the negotiation, alive, while,
if she does not, 'twill be a proof that she has contracted leagues with
other parties. But, in any event, the Duke fervently implored Philip not
to pause in his preparations for the great enterprise which he had
conceived in his royal breast. So urgent for the invasion was the
peace-loving general.

He alluded also to the supposition that the quarrel between her Majesty
and the French envoy was a mere fetch, and only one of the results of
Bellievre's mission. Whether that diplomatist had been sent to censure,
or in reality to approve, in the name of his master, of the Scottish
Queen's execution, Alexander would leave to be discussed by Don
Bernardino de Mendoza, the Spanish ambassador in Paris; but he was of
opinion that the anger of the Queen with France was a fiction, and her
supposed league with France and Germany against Spain a fact. Upon this
point, as it appears from Secretary Walsingham's lamentations, the astute
Farnese was mistaken.

In truth he was frequently, led into error to the English policy the same
serpentine movement and venomous purpose which characterized his own; and
we have already seen; that Elizabeth was ready, on the contrary, to
quarrel with the States, with France, with all the world, if she could
only secure the good-will of Philip.

The French-matter, indissolubly connected in that monarch's schemes, with
his designs upon England and Holland, was causing Alexander much anxiety.
He foresaw great difficulty in maintaining that, indispensable civil war
in France, and thought that a peace might, some fine day, be declared
between Henry III. and the Huguenots, when least expected. In
consequence, the Duke of Guise was becoming very importunate for Philip's
subsidies. "Mucio comes begging to me," said Parma, "with the very
greatest earnestness, and utters nothing but lamentations and cries of
misery. He asked for 25,000 of the 150,000 ducats promised him. I gave
them. Soon afterwards he writes, with just as much anxiety, for 25,000
more. These I did not give; firstly, because I had them not," (which
would seem a sufficient