[32] Don Juan was acknowledged in 1642, and the occasion was taken for a great series of festivities to celebrate the event, though the state of public affairs at the time was more deplorable than ever. The Nuncio Panzuolo took a prominent part in the affair, and gave the Pope's blessing to the young Prince; but it was noted that the Queen, usually so hearty and debonnaire, was cold and haughty when Don Juan was led up to kiss her hand and that of Prince Baltasar Carlos. It was noticed that the latter, prompted apparently by his mother, addressed his half-brother as _Vos_, You, which was the manner usually adopted towards nobles, but not to royal personages. An interesting unpublished paper in Italian in the British Museum gives many curious particulars of Don Juan's youth, and the details of his legitimation. Add MSS. 8703. "Ritratto della nascitá qualitá costumi ed accioni de Don Juan d'Austria." [33] A most amusing account of this family council is given by Novoa, who hits off the respective characters of the three sisters--the Marchiones of Carpio, Marchioness of Monterey, and Countess of Alcañizes--very neatly. [34] The terrible Memorial, written by Quevedo, exposing in burning words the state of the country, and calling upon the King to arouse himself, should be read by anyone who desires confirmation of the pictures I have tried to trace in this book. The paper was slipped under the King's napkin at dinner, and was accompanied by a parody paternoster, beginning as follows-- Filipo, que el mundo aclama Rey del infiel tan temido, Despierta, que por dormido Nadie te teme, ni te ama; Despierta, rey, que la fama Por todo el orbe pregona Que es de leon tu corona Y tu dormir de liròn, Mira que la adulacion Te llama con fin siniestro "Padre Nuestro." Hail, Philip, King whom all acclaim, In fear the infidel to keep, Awake! for in thy slumber deep No one doth love or fear thy name. Awake! oh King, the worlds proclaim Thy crown on lion's brow to sit, Thy slumber's but for dormouse fit. Listen! 'tis flattery's artful wile That sunk in sloth thy days beguile, And calls thee, its base ends to foster, "Pater Noster."