any intention of concluding them, you can always get out of them with
great honour, by taking umbrage about the point of religion and about
some other of the outrageous propositions which they are like to propose,
and of which there are plenty, in the letters of Andrew de Loo. Your
commissioners must be instructed; to refer all important matters to your
personal decision. The English will be asking for damages for money,
spent in assisting my rebels; your commissioners will contend that
damages are rather due to me. Thus, and in other ways, time will be
agent. Your own envoys are not to know the secret any more than the
English themselves. I tell it to you only. Thus you will proceed with
the negotiations, now, yielding on one point, and now insisting on
another, but directing all to the same object--to gain time while
proceeding with the preparation for the invasion, according to the plan
already agreed upon."

Certainly the most Catholic King seemed, in this remarkable letter to
have outdone himself; and Farnese--that sincere Farnese, in whose loyal,
truth-telling, chivalrous character, the Queen and her counsellors placed
such implicit reliance--could thenceforward no longer be embarrassed as
to the course he was to adopt. To lie daily, through, thick, and thin,
and with every variety of circumstance and detail which; a genius fertile
in fiction could suggest, such was the simple rule prescribed by his
sovereign. And the rule was implicitly obeyed, and the English sovereign
thoroughly deceived. The secret confided only, to the faithful breast of
Alexander was religiously kept. Even the Pope was outwitted. His
Holiness proposed to, Philip the invasion of England, and offered a
million to further the plan. He was most desirous to be informed if the
project was, resolved upon, and, if so, when it was to be accomplished.
The King took the Pope's million, but refused the desired information.
He answered evasively. He had a very good will to invade the country, he