tience would cure
the malady of the country, he professed himself capable of applying the
remedy, although the medicine had so far done but little good, and
although he had no very strong hopes as to its future effects. "Thus far,
however," said he, "I am but as one crying in the wilderness." He took
occasion to impress upon his Majesty, in very strong language, the
necessity of money. Secret agents, spies, and spies upon spies, were more
necessary than ever, and were very expensive portions of government
machinery. Never was money more wanted. Nothing could be more important
than, to attend faithfully to the financial suggestions of Escovedo, and
Don John, therefore, urged his Majesty, again and again, not to dishonor
their drafts. "Money is the gruel," said he, "with which we must cure
this sick man;" and he therefore prayed all those who wished well to his
efforts, to see that his Majesty did not fail him in this important
matter. Notwithstanding, however, the vigor of his efforts, and the
earnestness of his intentions, he gave but little hope to his Majesty of
any valuable fruit from the pacification just concluded. He saw the
Prince of Orange strengthening himself, "with great fury," in Holland and
Zealand; he knew that the Prince was backed by the Queen of England, who,
notwithstanding her promises to Philip and himself, had offered her
support to the rebels in case the proposed terms of peace were rejected
in Holland, and he felt that "nearly the whole people was at the devotion
of the Prince."

Don John felt more and more convinced, too, that a conspiracy was on foot
against his liberty. There were so many of the one party, and so few of
the other, that if he were once fairly "trussed," he affirmed that not a
man among the faithful would dare to budge an inch. He therefore informed
his Majesty that he was secretly meditating a retreat to some place of
security; judging very properly that, if he were still his own master, he
should be able to exert more influence over those who were still well
disposed, than if he should suffer himself to be taken captive. A
suppressed conviction that he could effect nothing, except with his
sword, pierced through all his more prudent reflections. He maintained
that, after all, there was no remedy for the body but to cut off the
diseased parts at once, and he therefore begged his Majesty for the means
of performing the operation handsomely. The general expressions which he
had pr