He was described by his friends as pusillanimous
to an incredible extent, timid from excess of riches, afraid of his own
shadow. He was becoming exceedingly pathetic, expressing frequently a
desire to depart and end his days in peace. His faithful Hopper sustained
and consoled him, but even Joachim could not soothe his sorrows when he
reflected that after all the work performed by himself and colleagues,
"they had only been beating the bush for others," while their own share
in the spoils had been withheld. Nothing could well be more contumelious
than Margaret's treatment of the learned Frisian. When other councillors
were summoned to a session at three o'clock, the President was invited at
four. It was quite impossible for him to have an audience of the Duchess
except in the presence of the inevitable Armenteras. He was not allowed
to open his mouth, even when he occasionally plucked up heart enough to
attempt the utterance of his opinions. His authority was completely dead.
Even if he essayed to combat the convocation of the states-general by the
arguments which the Duchess, at his suggestion, had often used for the
purpose, he was treated with the same indifference. "The poor President,"
wrote Granvelle to the King's chief secretary, Gonzalo Perez, "is afraid,
as I hear, to speak a word, and is made to write exactly what they tell
him." At the same time the poor President, thus maltreated and mortified,
had the vanity occasionally to imagine himself a bold and formidable
personage. The man whom his most intimate friends described as afraid of
his own shadow, described himself to Granvelle as one who went his own
gait, speaking his mind frankly upon every opportunity, and compelling
people to fear him a little, even if they did not love him. But the
Cardinal knew better than to believe in this magnanimous picture of the
doctor's fancy.

Viglius was anxious to retire, but unwilling to have the appearance of
being disgraced. He felt instinctively, although deceived as to the
actual facts, that his great patron had been defeated and banished. He
did not wish to be placed in the same position. He was desirous, as he
piously expressed himself, of withdrawing from the world, "that he might
balance his accounts with the Lord, before leaving the lodgings of life."
He was, however, disposed to please "the master" as well as the Lord. He
wished to have the royal permission to depart in peace. In his own lofty
language, he wished