The Lord-Treasurer also made the not unreasonable suggestion, that, in case of a pacification, it would be necessary to provide that English subjects—­peaceful traders, mariners, and the like—­should no longer be shut up in the Inquisition prisons of Spain and Portugal, and there starved to death, as, with great multitudes, had already been the case.

Meantime Alexander, while encouraging and directing all these underhand measures, was carefully impressing upon his master that he was not, in the least degree; bound by any such negotiations.  “Queen Elizabeth,” he correctly observed to Philip, “is a woman:  she is also by no means fond of expense.  The kingdom, accustomed to repose, is already weary of war therefore, they are all pacifically inclined.”  “It has been intimated to me,” he said, “that if I would send a properly qualified person, who should declare that your Majesty had not absolutely forbidden the coming of Lord Leicester, such an agent would be well received, and perhaps the Earl would be recalled.”  Alexander then proceeded, with the coolness befitting a trusted governor of Philip ii., to comment upon the course which he was pursuing.  He could at any time denounce the negotiations which he was secretly prompting.  Meantime immense advantages could be obtained by the deception practised upon an enemy whose own object was to deceive.

The deliberate treachery of the scheme was cynically enlarged upon, and its possible results mathematically calculated: 

Philip was to proceed with the invasion while Alexander was going on with the negotiation.  If, meanwhile, they could receive back Holland and Zeeland from the hands of England, that would be an immense success.  The Prince intimated a doubt, however, as to so fortunate a result, because, in dealing with heretics and persons of similar quality, nothing but trickery was to be expected.  The chief good to be hoped for was to “chill the Queen in her plots, leagues, and alliances,” and during the chill, to carry forward their own great design.  To slacken not a whit in their preparations, to “put the Queen to sleep,” and, above all, not to leave the French for a moment unoccupied with internal dissensions and civil war; such was the game of the King and the governor, as expounded between themselves.

President Richardot, at the same time, stated to Cardinal Granvelle that the English desire for peace was considered certain at Brussels.  Grafigni had informed the Prince of Parma and his counsellors that the Queen was most amicably disposed, and that there would be no trouble on the point of religion, her Majesty not wishing to obtain more than she would herself be willing to grant.  “In this,” said Richardot, “there is both hard and soft;” for knowing that the Spanish game was deception, pure and simple, the excellent President could not bring himself to suspect a possible grain of good faith in the English intentions.  Much anxiety was perpetually felt