their expression.
There was an habitual look askance; as of a man seeking to parry or
inflict a mortal blow--the look of a swordsman and professional fighter.
The lower part of the face was swallowed in a bushy beard; the mouth and
chin being quite invisible. He was of middle stature, well formed, and
graceful in person, princely in demeanor, sumptuous and stately in
apparel. His high ruff of point lace, his badge of the Golden Fleece, his
gold-inlaid Milan armor, marked him at once as one of high degree. On the
field of battle he possessed the rare gift of inspiring his soldiers with
his own impetuous and chivalrous courage. He ever led the way upon the
most dangerous and desperate ventures, and, like his uncle and his
imperial grandfather, well knew how to reward the devotion of his
readiest followers with a poniard, a feather, a riband, a jewel, taken
with his own hands from his own attire.

His military, abilities--now for the first time to be largely called into
employment--were unquestionably superior to those of Don John; whose name
had been surrounded with such splendor by the World-renowned battle of
Lepanto. Moreover, he possessed far greater power for governing men,
whether in camp or cabinet. Less attractive and fascinating, he was more
commanding than his kinsman. Decorous and self-poised, he was only
passionate before the enemy, but he rarely permitted a disrespectful look
or word to escape condign and deliberate chastisement. He was no schemer
or dreamer. He was no knight errant. He would not have crossed seas and
mountains to rescue a captive queen, nor have sought to place her crown
on his own head as a reward for his heroism. He had a single and
concentrated kind of character. He knew precisely the work which Philip
required, and felt himself to be precisely the workman that had so long
been wanted. Cool, incisive, fearless, artful, he united the unscrupulous
audacity of a condottiere with the wily patience of a Jesuit. He could
coil unperceived through unsuspected paths, could strike suddenly, sting
mortally. He came prepared, not only to smite the Netherlanders in the
open field, but to cope with them in tortuous policy; to outwatch and
outweary them in the game to which his impatient predecessor had fallen a
baked victim. He possessed the art and the patience--as time was to
prove--not only to undermine their most impregnable cities, but to delve
below the intrigues of their most accomplished politic