the Frenchman, nothing loath, launched into high-flown panegyrics of her own perfections and his master’s manliness. A day or two afterwards he got into talk with the Queen’s physician, who suggested that the best way to cement the alliance between England and France would be to bring about a marriage between the King and Queen. Vulcob objected that their ages were so different, and the unlikelihood of issue; to which the physician replied: “Your King is seventeen, and the Queen only thirty-two. Take no notice of what she says in that respect, it is only her passing fancies. If the King marries her, I will answer for her having ten children, and no one in the world knows her temperament better than I do. If you like, you and I will secretly manage this business. Your King is young and vigorous and accustomed to travel; let him come to Boulogne to see this fair lady.”[49] The hint was faithfully conveyed to Catharine de Medici, but she was not deceived by it. Both she and her ambassador clearly saw the drift, and talked of the affair only when necessary to thwart the Austrian match, or when Leicester himself was not strong enough to stand alone against his enemies. This position continued during the summer and autumn of 1566: Elizabeth bitterly jealous of the birth of Mary of Scotland’s child, apprehensive of the secret aid in money being sent by Alba to Mary for the promotion of her cause, and yet afraid to offend the house of Austria, which might arm her own Catholic subjects against her; Leicester alternately hopeful and despairing; the Archduke’s friends minimising points of difference and smoothing over difficulties in the hope of getting their man to England at any cost; and the French party sleepless in their efforts to prevent Elizabeth’s marriage with any nominee of Spain. More than once the quarrel between Leicester and his enemies nearly flamed out into open hostility. The Queen peremptorily insisted upon his making friends with Sussex, and even forced him to an appearance of reconciliation with his rival Ormond. Both the Spanish and French ambassadors give numberless instances of the rancour existing at Court, and profess themselves shocked at the Queen’s lightness and giddiness of conduct in connection with the marriage question. The nation itself, so far as public opinion could be said to exist at the time, was also disturbed, and when Parliament met in October, all Cecil’s efforts were unavailing to prevent the discussion of the Queen’s marriage and the succession. A joint committee of both Houses was appointed to draw up an address to the Queen on the subject, and the resentment of Elizabeth against the majority for dealing with the matter of the succession particularly, against her wish, was cunningly fanned by Guzman, who pointed out that they were nearly all extreme Protestants. “I do not know what the devils want,” said the Queen. “O! your Majesty,” replied the ambassador, “what they want is simply liberty; and if monarchs