“Probably because even your Majesty’s least prudent deeds merit a modest reward,” replied Quijada, “and because, besides the heavenly powers, there are also less estimable ones that meddle with the affairs of this world.”

“Perhaps so!” exclaimed the Queen, astonished at this idea.  “Perhaps the Prince of Darkness finds pleasure in this affair, and, as a fair-minded devil, is grateful to me.  One thing is certain:  What a woman of my age could not tell her daughter or—­if she has none—­her young niece, she should not meddle with.  All this is by no means pleasing to me, and yet, Luis, yet We ought to rejoice in this love affair, not only for ourselves, but for his Majesty.  De Soto, too, I know, is satisfied; nay, it seems as if he saw a special act of divine favour in this late blazing of the flames of love in a heart whose fires had apparently burned out.”

“Wherever this passion originates,” observed Quijada, “it seems to have had a good influence upon his Majesty’s mood.  It is said that Satan often designs evil and yet works good, and if this late and very tender emotion is a gift of hell, it nevertheless affords our sovereign lord unexpected and therefore all the more exquisite joys.”

“In whose behalf it may also be said that they are numbered among those which can hardly be approved, or even forbidden ones,” the regent eagerly interrupted.  “But no matter!  Happy is he whose pathway at the beginning of life’s evening is once more so brilliantly illumined by the sun of love.  In my devotion to the duties of government and the chase, I have not yet wholly forgotten enthusiasm.  Whoever has once been really young retains this advantage, and I have, Luis.  Therefore I could envy my beloved brother to-day no less sincerely than I pitied him yesterday.  Joy is the best thing in life, and who bestows it more certainly and lavishly than the little winged god?  It is fortunate for my Charles that he is again permitted to quaff the beaker of happiness!  Only too soon—­ I know it—­he will again withdraw it from his lips with his own hand, if it were only because the inclination to self-torture which he inherits, the ascetic instinct, that constantly increases in strength, destroys and stamps as sinful forgetfulness of duty every pleasure which he enjoys for any length of time.  We will hope that he will not retain this new happiness too briefly.  It would be of service to us all.  What he might possibly have granted me after long hesitation and consideration, and with many a delay, he yielded after mass this morning with smiling lips.  Love expands the heart, and at the same time enlarges the views, especially if it is not an unfortunate one; but this Barbara Blomberg is a genuine daughter of Eve, over whom the mother of nations, if she met her by chance, would rejoice.  A German Venus, whom I would gladly send to Titian for a model.  And her voice and the unexpected good fortune of finding such a teacher here!  Appenzelder and Gombert are full of her praises.  Good heavens!  How she sang yesterday evening!  It was enough to stir the dead.  Afterward I drew her aside for a short time.”