“Then,” replies Villena, with an icy smile, drawing himself up to his full height, “he must be dethroned, and the Infante Alfonso, whom he keeps under observation along with his sister, Doña Isabel, proclaimed king in his place.” Spite of the esteem in which Villena was held, this audacious proposal staggered the assembly. Many voices were heard in opposition, and amongst much confusion each illustrious noble spoke his mind. “Peace, my lords!” cried Villena, his tall figure dominating the rest. “I speak in my own name and in that of the Archbishop of Toledo; we old ministers of the throne and councillors of state are agreed. Never was a nation sunk to so low an ebb. The rule of Don Alvarez de Luna was glory to it. The proclamation of the Beltraneja as heir has brought matters to a crisis. It is rumoured among those about him that Don Enrique was so anxious for the birth of a child, that, knowing his own incapacity, he has himself connived at this dishonour. Be that as it may, if the king is incapable of guarding his own honour, we will defend it for him.” The marquess spoke with passion. Loud acclamations followed his words. The position was so plain, the risk so degrading to a chivalrous people. Had this child, whom all knew to be a bastard, not been born, the insolence of the favourite might have been tolerated, the licentious life of the Queen Juana of Portugal passed unreproved; but in the desperate effort to foist his daughter on the throne, Ledesma had, like a bad player, over-reached himself. Of the two children of Juan II., by his second queen, the charming Isabel of Portugal, Don Alfonso and Doña Isabel, both were popular in Castile. All the assembled nobles had not the courage to follow Villena in his bold course, which, if unsuccessful, might bring ruin to them and their families as rebels to their king. All could not reckon on the favour of Don Alfonso, if set at liberty and proclaimed Prince of the Asturias, on which the scheming brain of the marquess counted as the plot. But a sufficient number joined with him. The ardent spirit of the Lord of Benevente, that young warrior of the north, was gained before the archbishop had spoken, who, seeing the hesitation of many, now rose slowly from his chair. “I, too,” he said, and as his full voice made itself audible a religious silence reigned, “as metropolitan of Spain, must raise the standard of the church against this Ahab, who has soiled the sanctity of the cloister by imposing a second Jezebel, in the person of his unfaithful mistress, as Abbess of Santa Maria de las Damas, and banishing the reverend mother to make room for this harlot. Spite of the excommunication of the Church, the Condesa de Sandoval still rules in the chapter. What malediction does a prince not merit who thus traffics with the devil and leads his people into mortal sin? Anathema maranatha on Enrique de Trastamare!”