himself to be turned to account, worn out, and abused for the benefit of
another. He, too, might lay claim to the right of governing a kingdom of
his own as its ruler, benefactor, and Mehrer.

After Lepanto, the crowns of the Morea and Albania had been offered to
him. Then, after he had conquered Tunis for his brother Philip, he had
wished to reign over that country as its king. Had it been ceded to him,
large provinces would have been taken from the infidels. This, it might
have been supposed, was sufficient reason for Philip to intrust it to his
government. But although the Holy Father in Rome and other rulers had
recognised the justice of these wishes, his royal brother could not be
persuaded to grant his just demands, and destroyed these hopes with cruel
coldness. He had not even been induced to recognise him as Infant, as a
lawful member of his family.

With trivial pretexts, and promises which he never intended to fulfil,
the hypocritical, selfish, niggardly man had repulsed, delayed, and put
him off.

So his life had been spoiled by the most cruel disappointments, by a
succession of the bitterest wrongs. Since Lepanto, no pure happiness had
bloomed again for him. He was a miserable, disappointed, ill-treated
man, who could never regain his former happiness until he obtained, on
his own account, what he himself called greatness, honour, glory, and
power. The gifts, no, the more than well-earned payments for which he
was indebted to the King, were only a bodiless shadow, a caricature of
these lofty gifts of Heaven.

His mother, alarmed, cried in terror, "What an ambition!"