The archbishop’s solemn imprecation carried many who had trembled at the impetuous proposal of Villena. A deputation was named to wait upon the king, at the head of which was the Archbishop of Toledo; but Villena himself remained in the background. As the principal conspirator, it behoved him to be cautious. * * * * * “What!” cried Don Enrique next day, when the prelate at the head of the deputation of nobles appeared before him in the Sala del Trono, when, surrounded by his attendant lancers, splendidly equipped, he sat under the _baldaquino_ on the chair of state, the whole room glittering with gilded panels, _retablos_, and mirrors, doubling the array of hostile figures before him, “What! you dare dictate to me--your king? How long is it, my lord archbishop, that you, our metropolitan, set the example [Illustration: FERNANDO THE CATHOLIC.] of disobedience? And you, my Lord of Benevente,” as according to his vehement nature, Pimentel had thrust himself more forward than the rest, “who come of such ancient stock, are you not ashamed to appear as a rebel? And you,” addressing the rest, “go back to your homes and learn obedience. What! I am to depose my daughter Juana at your bidding?” A loud murmur here interrupted him for a moment, and the name of Beltrano was distinctly heard. The colour mounted furiously to the face of the king, who, like all of his family, was a fair and comely prince; his eyes grew dangerously bright, and he laid his hand on the hilt of the dagger at his side. “My lords! my lords! you try my patience too much!” he cried. “Why am I not to have a child like any one of you? Answer! Especially after--” here his voice dropped. They all knew what he meant, but no one believed it. Like every member of his family, Don Enrique was unable to sustain his passions. The awe inspired by his presence had passed. Every eye was fixed menacingly upon him. Each noble recalled the scandal of his life and the treason of which he was guilty in acknowledging the Beltraneja as his heir. Face to face with the king, the indignation they felt blazed out. No words were spoken, but the menace was clear. Don Enrique quailed before it. He stood before the chief nobles of Castile as his accusers. He was judged and found guilty. The expression of their conviction was instantaneous. Then the archbishop, with dignified calm, became the spokesman. “Your Highness, we are here to declare that we will never acknowledge Doña Juana as your successor. Civil war will be the result of your insistence. Be advised, my good lord, not to drive your subjects to extremities. Banish that vile adventurer Beltrano de las Cuevas. Call your brother Don Alfonso, and your sister Doña Isabel to adorn the court, and trust to your faithful subjects for the rest.”