It was not long before the state of feeling in the cabinet of Brussels was known, or at least surmised, throughout the country. It was the interest of some of the parties that it should not be kept secret. The cardinal, thus abandoned by his friends, became a more conspicuous mark for the shafts of his enemies. Libels, satires, pasquinades, were launched against him from every quarter. Such fugitive pieces, like the insect which dies when it has left its sting, usually perish with the occasion that gives them birth. But some have survived to the present day, or at least were in existence at the close of the last century, and are much commended by a critic for the merits of their literary execution.[573] It was the custom, at the period of our narrative, for the young people to meet in the towns and villages, and celebrate what were called "academic games," consisting of rhetorical discussions on the various topics of the day, sometimes of a theological or a political character. Public affairs furnished a fruitful theme at this crisis; and the cardinal, in particular, was often roughly handled. It was in vain the government tried to curb this licence. It only served to stimulate the disputants to new displays of raillery and ridicule.[574] Granvelle, it will be readily believed, was not slow to perceive his loss of credit with the regent, and the more intimate relations into which she had entered with his enemies. But whatever he may have felt, he was too proud or too politic to betray his mortification to the duchess. Thus discredited by all but an insignificant party, who were branded as the "Cardinalists," losing influence daily with the regent, at open war with the nobles, and hated by the people, never was there a minister in so forlorn a situation, or one who was able to maintain his post a day in such circumstances. Yet Granvelle did not lose heart; as others failed him, he relied the more on himself; and the courage which he displayed, when thus left alone, as it were, to face the anger of the nation, might have well commanded the respect of his enemies. He made no mean concession to secure the support of the nobles, or to recover the favor of the regent. He did not shrink from the dangers or the responsibilities of his station; though the latter, at least, bore heavily on him. Speaking of the incessant pressure of his cares, he writes to his correspondent, Perez, "My hairs have turned so white you would not recognize me."[575] He was then but forty-six. On one occasion, indeed, we do find him telling the king, that, "if his majesty does not soon come to the Netherlands, he must withdraw from them."[576] This seems to have been a sudden burst of feeling, as it was a solitary one, forced from him by the extremity of his situation. It was much more in character that he wrote afterwards to the secretary, Perez: "I am so beset with dangers on every side, that most people give me up for lost.