been blessed, and the only one that survived.  His great-grandfather, Paul, whose secular name of Alexander he had received, had placed his hand upon the new-born infant’s head, and prophesied that he would grow up to become a mighty warrior.  The boy, from his earliest years, seemed destined to verify the prediction.  Though apt enough at his studies, he turned with impatience from his literary tutors to military exercises and the hardiest sports.  The din of arms surrounded his cradle.  The trophies of Ottavio, returning victorious from beyond the Alps, had dazzled the eyes of his infancy, and when but six years of age he had witnessed the siege of his native Parma, and its vigorous defence by his martial father.  When Philip was in the Netherlands—­in the years immediately succeeding the abdication of the Emperor—­he had received the boy from his parents as a hostage for their friendship.  Although but eleven years of age, Alexander had begged earnestly to be allowed to serve as a volunteer on the memorable day of Saint Quentin, and had wept bitterly when the amazed monarch refused his request.—­His education had been, completed at Alcala, and at Madrid, under the immediate supervision of his royal uncle, and in the companionship of the Infante Carlos and the brilliant Don John.  The imperial bastard was alone able to surpass, or even to equal the Italian prince in all martial and manly pursuits.  Both were equally devoted to the chase and to the tournay; both longed impatiently for the period when the irksome routine of monkish pedantry, and the fictitious combats which formed their main recreation, should be exchanged for the substantial delights of war.  At the age of twenty he had been affianced to Maria of Portugal; daughter of Prince Edward, granddaughter of King Emanuel, and his nuptials with that peerless princess were; as we have seen, celebrated soon afterwards with much pomp in Brussels.  Sons and daughters were born to him in due time, during his subsequent residence in Parma.  Here, however, the fiery and impatient spirit of the future illustrious commander was doomed for a time to fret under restraint, and to corrode in distasteful repose.  His father, still in the vigor of his years, governing the family duchies of Parma and Piacenza, Alexander had no occupation in the brief period of peace which then existed.  The martial spirit, pining for a wide and lofty sphere of action, in which alone its energies could be fitly exercised, now sought delight in the pursuits of the duellist and gladiator.  Nightly did the hereditary prince of the land perambulate the streets of his capital, disguised, well armed, alone, or with a single confidential attendant.  Every chance passenger of martial aspect whom he encountered in the midnight streets was forced to stand and measure swords with an unknown, almost unseen but most redoubtable foe, and many were the single combats which he thus enjoyed, so long as his incognito was preserved.  Especially,