and every privation except fasting. These personal advantages were now
departed. Crippled in hands, knees and legs, he supported himself with
difficulty upon a crutch, with the aid of, an attendant's shoulder. In
face he had always been extremely ugly, and time had certainly not
improved his physiognomy. His hair, once of a light color, was now white
with age, close-clipped and bristling; his beard was grey, coarse, and
shaggy. His forehead was spacious and commanding; the eye was dark blue,
with an expression both majestic and benignant. His nose was aquiline
but crooked. The lower part of his face was famous for its deformity.
The under lip, a Burgundian inheritance, as faithfully transmitted as the
duchy and county, was heavy and hanging; the lower jaw protruding so far
beyond the upper, that it was impossible for him to bring together the
few fragments of teeth which still remained, or to speak a whole sentence
in an intelligible voice. Eating and talking, occupations to which he
was always much addicted, were becoming daily more arduous, in
consequence of this original defect, which now seemed hardly human,
but rather an original deformity.

So much for the father. The son, Philip the Second, was a small, meagre
man, much below the middle height, with thin legs, a narrow chest, and
the shrinking, timid air of an habitual invalid. He seemed so little,
upon his first visit to his aunts, the Queens Eleanor and Mary,
accustomed to look upon proper men in Flanders and Germany, that he was
fain to win their favor by making certain attempts in the tournament, in
which his success was sufficiently problematical. "His body," says his
professed panegyrist, "was but a human cage, in which, however brief and
narrow, dwelt a soul to whose flight the immeasurable expanse of heaven
was too contracted." [Cabrera] The same wholesale admirer adds, that
"his aspect was so reverend, that rustics who met him alone in a wood,
without knowing him, bowed down with instinctive veneration." In face,