regimen in
youth debased, so that he was even more completely a slave to the
priestly influence than his father had been, without any of his father's
ability or force of character. The Duke of Lerma was "the Atlas who bore
the burden of the monarchy."[1] He was a man, according to Quevedo,
"alluring and dexterous rather than intelligent; ruled by the interested
cunning of his own creatures but imperious with all others; magnificent,
ostentatious; choosing his men only by considerations of his own special
policy or from personal friendship." Under such a man, who ruled the King
at his will, it was not likely that any portion of the royal benevolence
should light on Miguel de Cervantes. Moreover, the crowd of suppliants at
court was very great, their appetite stimulated doubtless by the
flattering reports of the new King's liberal disposition.

[1] The phrase was probably used by Cervantes in irony. It had been
used by others before, and was a common form.

A contemporary writer laments with pathetic zeal and pious indignation
the lot of many famous captains and valiant soldiers, who, after serving
the King all their lives and being riddled with wounds, were not only
pushed aside into corners without any reward, but condemned to see
unworthy men without merit loaded with benefits, merely through enjoying
the favor of some minister or courtier.[2] The Duke of Lerma, as one who
professed a contempt for all letters and learning, was even less likely
to be influenced by Cervantes' literary merits than by his services as a
soldier--services which had now become an old story. Disappointed in his
hopes of preferment, Cervantes had to maintain himself and his family by
the exercise of his pen--writing, as we learn, letters and memorials for
those who needed them,[3] while busy upon his new book.

[2] Fr. Sepulveda, quoted by Navarrete.

[3] And "employed in various agencies and businesses," says
Navarrete, vaguely.

Without the gifts which are in favor at court--unskilled in the arts of
solicitation--we can imagine, with a man of Cervantes' temperament, what
a special hell it must have been--"in suing long to bide." About this
time he seems almost to have dropped out of life. The four years between
1598 and 1602 are the obscurest in his story. We do not know where he
lived or what he did. It was the crisis of the struggle with his
unrelenting evil destiny. The presumption is that he was still in