my eyes,
even athwart the fiery gulf, awaken upon thee!"

With that a serene and contented smile passed over the face on which
the crowd gazed with breathless awe. A minute more, and a groan, a
cry, broke from that countless multitude; and a gory and ghastly head,
severed from its trunk, was raised on high.

Two spectators of that execution were in one of the balconies that
commanded a full view of its terrors.

"So perishes my worst foe!" said Uzeda.

"We must sacrifice all things, friends as foes, in the ruthless march
of the Great Cause," rejoined the Grand Inquisitor; but he sighed as he
spoke.

"Guzman is now with the king," said Uzeda, turning into the chamber. "I
expect every instant a summons into the royal presence."

"I cannot share thy sanguine hopes, my son," said Aliaga, shaking his
head. "My profession has made me a deep reader of human character.
Gaspar de Guzman will remove every rival from his path."

While he spoke, there entered a gentleman of the royal chamber. He
presented to the Grand Inquisitor and the expectant duke two letters
signed by the royal hand. They were the mandates of banishment and
disgrace. Not even the ghostly rank of the Grand Inquisitor, not even
the profound manoeuvres of the son of Lerma, availed them against the
vigilance and vigour of the new favourite. Simultaneously, a shout from
the changeable crowd below proclaimed that the king's choice of his new
minister was published and approved.

And Aliaga and Uzeda exchanged glances that bespoke all the passions
that make defeated ambition the worst fiend, as they heard the mighty
cry, "LONG LIVE OLIVAREZ THE REFORMER!"

That cry came, faint and muffled, to the ears of Philip the Fourth, as
he sate in his palace with his new minister. "Whence that shout?" said
the king, hastily.

"It rises, doubtless, from the honest hearts of your loyal people at the
execution of Calderon."

Philip shaded his face with his hand, and mused a moment: then, turning
to Olivarez with a sarcastic smile, he said: "Behold the moral of the
life of a courtier, count! What do they say of the new opera?"

At the close of his life, in disgrace and banishment, the count-duke,
for the first time since they had been uttered, called to his
recollection those words of his royal master.

'The fate of Calderon has given rise to many tales and legends. Amongst
those who have best availed themselves of so fruitful a subject may be
ranked the late vers