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, he was the
living image of his father, having the same broad forehead, and blue eye,
with the same aquiline, but better proportioned, nose. In the lower part
of the countenance, the remarkable Burgundian deformity was likewise
reproduced. He had the same heavy, hanging lip, with a vast mouth, and
monstrously protruding lower jaw. His complexion was fair, his hair light
and thin, his beard yellow, short, and pointed. He had the aspect of a