sting for affection, was flinging herself upon a breast to which
an iceberg was warm; upon a man to whom love was an unmeaning word,
except as the most brutal of passions. For a few months she created
for herself an atmosphere of unreality. She saw in Philip the ideal of
her imagination, and in Philip's feelings the reflex of her own; but
the dream passed away--her love for her husband remained; but remained
only to be a torture to her. With a broken spirit and bewildered
understanding, she turned to Heaven for comfort, and, instead of
heaven, she saw only the false roof of her creed painted to imitate
and shut out the sky.

{p.144} The scene will change for a few pages to the Low Countries.
Charles V. more than any other person was responsible for this
marriage. He had desired it not for Mary's sake, not for Philip's
sake, not for religion's sake; but that he might be able to assert a
decisive preponderance over France; and, to gain his end, he had
already led the queen into a course which had forfeited the regard of
her subjects. She had murdered Lady Jane Grey at the instigation of
his ambassador, and under the same influence she had done her best to
destroy her sister. Yet Charles, notwithstanding, was one of nature's
gentlemen. If he was unscrupulous in the sacrifice of others to his
purposes, he never spared himself; and in the days of his successes he
showed to less advantage than now, when, amidst failing fortunes and
ruined health, his stormy career was closing.

In the spring he had been again supposed to be dying. His military
reputation had come out tarnished from his failure at Metz, and while
he was labouring with imperfect success to collect troops for a
summer's campaign, Henry of France, unable to prevent the English
marriage, was preparing to strike a blow so heavy, as should enable
him to dictate peace on his own terms before England was drawn into
the quarrel.

In June two French armies took the field. Pietro Strozzi advanced from
Piedmont into Tuscany. Henry himself, with Guise, Montmorency, and
half the peerage of France, entered the Low Countries, sweeping all
opposition before him. First Marienbourg fell, then Dinant fell,
stormed with especial gallantry. The young French nobles were taught
that they must conquer or die: a party of them flinched in the breach
at Dinant, and the next morning Henry sat in judgment upon them
sceptre in hand; some were hanged, the rest degraded from their rank:
"