of somebody who would not be so intractable (farouclae) as he.  O, mighty power of orvietan (a counterpoison)!  This man so independent, this great citizen, this courageous minister, had no sooner heard the threat, and felt that it would be carried into effect, than he bowed his head beneath his huge hat, which he always had on, and signed right off, without a word.  He even read the treaty to the council of regency in a low and trembling voice, and when the Regent asked his opinion, ’the opinion of the treaty,’ he answered, between his teeth, with a bow.”  Some days later appeared, almost at the same time—­the 17th of December, 1718, and the 9th of January, 1719—­the manifestoes of England and France, proclaiming the resolution of making war upon Spain, whilst Philip V., by a declaration of December 25th, 1718, pronounced all renunciations illusory, and proclaimed his right to the throne of France in case of the death of Louis XV.  At the same time he made an appeal to an assembly of the States-general against the tyranny of the Regent, “who was making alliances,” he said, “with the enemies of the two crowns.”

For once, in a way, Alberoni indulged the feelings of the king his master, and, in spite of the good will felt by a part of the grandees towards France, Spain was, on the whole, with him; he no longer felt himself to be threatened, as he had been a few months before, when the king’s illness had made him tremble for his greatness, and perhaps for his life.  He kept the monarch shut up in his room, refusing entrance to even the superior officers of the palace. [Memoires de St. Simon, t. xv.] “The Marquis of Villena, major-domo major, having presented himself there one afternoon, one of the valets inside half opened the door, and told him, with much embarrassment, that he was forbidden to let him in.  ‘You are insolent, sir,’ replied the marquis; ‘that cannot be.’  He pushed; the door against the valet and went in.  The marquis, though covered with glory, being very weak on his legs, thus advances with short steps, leaning on his little stick.  The queen and the cardinal see him, and look at one another.  The king was too ill to take notice of anything, and his curtains were drawn.  The cardinal, seeing the marquis approach, went up to him, and represented to him that the king wished to be alone, and begged him to go away.  ‘That is not true,’ said the marquis.  ’I kept my eye upon you, and the king never said a word to you.’  The cardinal, insisting, took him by the arm to make him go out; what with the heat of the moment, and what with the push, the marquis, being feeble, fell into an arm-chair which happened to be by.  Wroth at his fall, he raises his stick and brings it down with all his might, hammer and tongs, about the cardinal’s ears, calling him a little rascal, a little hound, who deserved nothing short of the stirrup-leathers.  When he did at last go out, the queen had looked on from her seat