The nearest approach to common action of the two Queens was when they both persuaded Charles to appoint the weak, idle, Medina Celi as minister; but, in this, and in all the other manifestations of Mariana’s conciliatory amiability at the time and after, it is unquestionable that the measures and men she smiled upon were such as would, and did, inevitably lead to a state of things in which her firm hand would become indispensable. The effects of the utter ineptitude of such a government as that of Charles and Medina Celi were soon seen. The coin had been tampered with to such an extent as to have no fixed value, provisions were at famine price, and the attempt to fix low values of commodities by decree aroused a sanguinary revolt in Madrid in the early spring of 1680, that nearly overthrew the wretched government such as it was. Bandits infested the high roads, half the work of the country was done by foreigners, whilst Spaniards starved in idleness, or lived by preying upon the comparatively few who still had means. In this abject state of affairs, the King gave but a quarter of an hour daily to his public duties, which were limited to stamping his signature on decrees placed before him, for he had neither the industry to read them nor the intellect to understand them; and the rest of his time was spent on the most puerile frivolity and in endless visits with Marie Louise to convents and churches. ‘Such visits,’ says Mme. Villars, ‘are anything but a feast for her. She insisted upon my going with her the last two days. As I knew nobody, I was very much bored, and I believe she only asked me to go in order to keep her in countenance. The King and Queen are seated in two arm chairs, the nuns sitting at their feet, and many ladies come to kiss their hands. The collation is brought, the Queen’s repast always being a roast capon, which she eats whilst the King gazes at her, and thinks that she eats too much. There are two dwarfs who do all the talking.’