ducats or cloth, had only sent orders to go forth and conquer a new
kingdom for him. Verdugo, too, from Friesland was howling for money,
garrotting and hanging his mutinous veterans every day, and sending
complaints and most dismal forebodings as often as a courier could make
his way through the enemy's lines to Farnese's headquarters. And
Farnese, on his part, was garrotting and hanging the veterans.

Alexander did not of course inform his master that he was a mischievous
lunatic, who upon any healthy principle of human government ought long
ago to have been shut up from all communion with his species. It was
very plain, however, from his letters, that such was his innermost,
thought, had it been safe, loyal, or courteous to express it in plain
language.

He was himself stung almost to madness moreover by the presence of
Commander Moreo, who hated him, who was perpetually coming over from
France to visit him, who was a spy upon all his actions, and who was
regularly distilling his calumnies into the ears of Secretary Idiaquez
and of Philip himself. The king was informed that Farnese was working
for his own ends, and was disgusted with his sovereign; that there never
had been a petty prince of Italy that did not wish to become a greater
one, or that was not jealous of Philip's power, and that there was not a
villain in all Christendom but wished for Philip's death. Moreo followed
the prince about to Antwerp, to Brussels, to Spa, whither he had gone to
drink the waters for his failing health, pestered him, lectured him,
pried upon him, counselled him, enraged him. Alexander told him at last
that he cared not if the whole world came to an end so long as Flanders
remained, which alone had been entrusted to him, and that if he was
expected to conquer France it would be as well to give him the means of
performing that exploit. So Moreo told the king that Alexander was