must have looked in his youth! There was something austere, repellent,
chilling, in the gaze which, while talking with others, he usually fixed
upon the ground, and, in fact, in the whole aspect of the son. How
brightly and frankly, on the contrary, his father's eyes, in spite of all
his suffering, could sparkle even now! How easy it would be for him to
win hearts still!

If he would only come!

But this time he did not accompany his son. Philip was on horseback, but
a magnificent empty coach in the procession would receive him as soon as
he left Brussels.

He wished to present a gallant appearance in the saddle on his departure,
and a more daintily, carefully clad cavalier could scarcely be imagined.

His garments fitted like a glove, and were of faultless fineness. Queen
Mary, the regent, rode at his side, and the Brabant nobles, the heads of
the Brussels citizens, and his Spanish courtiers formed his retinue. The
leaders of the Netherland nobility were figures very unlike in stature
and size to Philip; but he could vie in haughty majesty with any of them.
Not a limb, not an expression lacked his control a single instant. He
desired to display to these very gentlemen in every inch of his person
his superior power and grandeur, and especially not to be inferior to
them in chivalrous bearing.

To a certain extent he succeeded in doing so; but his aunt, Queen Mary,
seemed unwilling to admit it, for just when he showed his arrogant
dignity most plainly a smile by no means expressive of reverence
hovered around the mouth of the frank royal huntress.