So terminated the first and the last overture on this subject which Henry attempted with Charles V. The ambassadors remained but a few days at Bologna, and then discharged their commission and returned.  The pope, however, had played his part with remarkable skill, and by finessing dexterously behind the scenes, had contrived to prevent the precipitation of a rupture with himself.  His simple and single wish was to gain time, trusting to accident or Providence to deliver him from his dilemma.  On the one hand, he yielded to the emperor in refusing to consent to Henry’s demand; on the other, he availed himself of all the intricacies to parry Catherine’s demand for a judgment in her favour.  He even seemed to part with the emperor on doubtful terms.  “The latter,” said the Bishop of Tarbes,[262] “before leaving Bologna, desired his Holiness to place two cardinals’ hats at his disposal, to enable him to reward certain services.”  His Holiness ventured to refuse.  During his imprisonment, he said he had been compelled to nominate several persons for that office whose conduct had been a disgrace to their rank; and when the emperor denied his orders, the pope declared that he had seen them.  The cardinals’ hats, therefore, should be granted only when they were deserved, “when the Lutherans in Germany had been reduced to obedience, and Hungary had been recovered from the Turks.”  If this was acting, it was skilfully managed, and it deceived the eyes of the French ambassador.

Still further to gratify Henry, the pope made a public declaration with respect to the dispute which had arisen on the extent of his authority, desiring, or professing to desire, that all persons whatever throughout Italy should be free to express their opinions without fear of incurring his displeasure.  This declaration, had it been honestly meant, would have been creditable to Clement’s courage:  unfortunately for his reputation, his outward and his secret actions seldom corresponded, and the emperor’s agents were observed to use very dissimilar language in his name.  The double policy, nevertheless, was still followed to secure delay.  Delay was his sole aim,—­either that Catherine’s death, or his own, or Henry’s, or some relenting in one or other of the two princes who held their minatory arms extended over him, might spare himself and the church the calamity of a decision.  For to the church any decision was fatal.  If he declared for Charles, England would fall from it; if for Henry, Germany and Flanders were lost irrecoverably, and Spain itself might follow.  His one hope was to procrastinate; and in this policy of hesitation for two more years he succeeded, till at length the patience of Henry and of England was worn out, and all was ended.  When the emperor required sentence to be passed, he pretended to be about to yield; and at the last moment, some technical difficulty ever interfered to make a decision impossible.  When Henry was cited to appear at Rome, a point of law was raised