The more Perrott saw of Desmond the less he liked him. He had grumbled at his return; had he known him better he would have cried aloud. He now besought the Queen to have him taken back to England, for he would never learn manners in Dublin, and could do nothing but harm in Munster. To Burghley Perrott wrote still more unrestrainedly that the Earl was fitter to keep Bedlam than to rule a newly reformed country. In Munster, wrote the President proudly, the plough already laughed the unbridled rogue to scorn, and daily improvement was visible. The poor prayed for the Queen. The clansmen had almost given up swearing by their lords' hands. The 8,000 or 9,000 men capable of bearing arms honoured Elizabeth's name, and their hands began to wax hard in labour as their feet once did in running to mischief. The revenue might soon be expected to increase. 'If the kings of England,' he said in language which must have appealed very strongly to Elizabeth, 'have any one thing heavier upon their souls than others, it is that they have not made a thorough conquest of this realm.'[253] [Sidenote: Threatening attitude of the Desmonds.] The Queen gracefully thanked Perrott for his services, begged him not to leave his post on account of his health, and proposed to send over an English doctor who knew his constitution. But she did not recall Desmond, who complained loudly of his long detention and declared his good intentions, while admitting that he had made many rash speeches. It does not seem to have occurred to him that a man who could not rule his tongue was hardly fit to rule a province. In the meantime his officers left the land waste, and seized Glin Castle in defiance of the President, whose health obliged him to go suddenly to England without taking the vengeance he had threatened. The highest praise which can be given him for his government of Munster is to quote the words which the 'Four Masters' used in derision:--'The departure of the President was lamented by the poor, the widows, the feeble, and the unwarlike of the country.' No sooner was his back turned than the Geraldines began to stir ominously. James Fitzmaurice reopened his intrigues with Spain. Finding that his wife had been writing amorous letters to Edward Butler, he divorced her summarily and married O'Connor Kerry's widow, whose castle of Carrigafoyle, 'the strongest and beautifullest' in West Munster, thus fell into his hands, and offered a ready harbour for 'Jack Spaniard.' He conferred with Clanricarde's sons--'a sage Parliament in God's name'--and to this Sir John was supposed to be privy. Fitzwilliam saw that mischief was in the wind, and meditated a journey to Munster, when Desmond, whose tone had been gradually growing less submissive, cut the knot by escaping from Dublin.[254] [Sidenote: Desmond escapes from Dublin, and resumes the Irish dress.]