terviews--each three mortal hours long--did the two indulge in at
Ghent, and never, was high-commissioner better satisfied with himself
than was John Rogers upon those occasions. He carried every point; he
convinced, he softened, he captivated the great Duke; he turned the great
Duke round his finger. The great Duke smiled, or wept, or fell into his
arms, by turns. Alexander's military exploits had rung through the world,
his genius for diplomacy and statesmanship had never been disputed; but
his talents as a light comedian were, in these interviews, for the first
time fully revealed.

On the 26th March the learned Doctor made his first bow and performed his
first flourish of compliments at Ghent. "I assure your Majesty," said he,
"his Highness followed my compliments of entertainment with so much
honour, as that--his Highness or I, speaking of the Queen of England--he
never did less than uncover his head; not covering the same, unless I was
covered also." And after these salutations had at last been got through
with, thus spake the Doctor of Laws to the Duke of Parma:--

"Almighty God, the light of lights, be pleased to enlighten the
understanding of your Alteza, and to direct the same to his glory, to the
uniting of both their Majesties and the finishing of these most bloody
wars, whereby these countries, being in the highest degree of misery
desolate, lie as it were prostrate before the wrathful presence of the
most mighty God, most lamentably beseeching his Divine Majesty to
withdraw his scourge of war from them, and to move the hearts of princes
to restore them unto peace, whereby they might attain unto their ancient
flower and dignity. Into the hands of your Alteza are now the lives of
many thousands, the destruction of cities, towns, and countries, which to
put to the fortune of war how perilous it were, I pray consider. Think
ye, ye see the mothers left alive tendering their offspring in your
presence, 'nam matribus detestata bells,'" continued the orator. "Think
also of others of all sexes, ages, and conditions, on their knees before
your Alteza, most humbly praying and crying most dolorously to spare
their lives, and save their property from the ensanguined scourge of the
insane soldiers," and so on, and so on.

Now Philip II. was slow in resolving, slower in action. The ponderous
three-deckers of Biscay were notoriously the dullest sailers ever known,
nor were the fettered slaves who rowed the great galleys