Every abuse continued. The Conde de Ledesma lorded it as before in a court where vice and disorder reigned paramount. Don Alfonso was not affianced to the little Juana, and the queen continued to scandalise all Castile. Then the Marqués de Villena decided upon action. This time he would make his presence felt. Don Enrique, fourth of that name, must be dethroned, (1464). His brother Alfonso proclaimed king in his place. On the plains of Avila the nation was summoned to ratify the act. * * * * * Avila stands on the summit of a wild mountain gorge, grey, colourless, and arid. Below are piled up heaps of huge granite boulders, as if washed by the water of the deluge. Then, beyond, line upon line of rough and scattered rocks lead the eye to the far-distant horizon. At first sight the town seems to be but a dolomite crown fixed on the cliffs themselves, until the eye discerns a circle of granite walls, broken at regular intervals by machicolated towers, to this day in perfect preservation. All is severe, wind-bound, arid. A mountain fortress looking towards the fastnesses over the Escurial. War trumpets, arrows, and catapults seem in the air; lances rattle and blood-stained banners wave. Beneath, the eye ranges over a vast region bounded by the snow-capped mountains of the Guadarrama. A prospect such as is seen nowhere but in Spain, where the plains take the semblance of an earthy sea, in the large lines of alternate sun and shade and streaks of vivid colour that undulate as on the perpetual agitation of the waves. And now a strange sight presents itself. On a level _vega_, a sheet of green, illumined by the full rays of the mid-day sun, filling all nature with a glorious light, a huge platform rises, on which stands a throne. On it is seated a gigantic semblance of the king, wearing the pointed crown of the Goths, the sceptre in one hand and the sword of justice at his side. No detail is wanting to render it more real. Jewelled collar and chain sparkle around his neck, pearls, emeralds, and rubies glow at the girdle, confining a sumptuous robe under a royal mantle lined and faced with miniver. In front is planted the banner of Castile, and a whole army of men-at-arms, crossbowmen, and lancers, guard the mimic sovereign as in life. All those dignitaries and prelates who took part in the conference at the archbishop’s are there also, to a man, gathered round the platform, to judge the king. Beyond, a vast multitude spreads over the plain. The nation has been summoned and it has come, and great disappointment is expressed not to find also figures of the queen and Don Beltrano exposed for judgment, as well as of the king.