Several years elapsed, and his rise had been infinitely slower than that of men not less inferior to him in birth than merit.

Some months since, he had repaired to Madrid to enforce his claims upon the government; but instead of advancing his suit, he had contrived to effect a serious breach with the cardinal, and been abruptly ordered back to the camp.

Once more he appeared at Madrid; but this time it was not to plead desert and demand honours.
In any country but Spain under the reign of Philip the Third, Martin Fonseca would have risen early to high fortunes.

But, as we have said, his talents were not those of the flatterer or the hypocrite; and it was a matter of astonishment to the calculators round him to see Don Martin Fonseca in the ante-room of Roderigo Calderon, Count Oliva, Marquis de Siete Iglesias, secretary to the King, and parasite and favourite of the Infant of Spain.
"Why come you here at all ?" repeated the young soldier.
"Senor," answered Don Felix de Castro, with great gravity, "we have business with Don Roderigo.

Men of our station must attend to the affairs of the state, no matter by whom transacted." "That is, you must crawl on your knees to ask for pensions and governorships, and transact the affairs of the state by putting your hands into its coffers." "Senor!" growled Don Felix, angrily, as his hand played with his sword-belt.
"Tush!" said the young man, scornfully turning on his heel.
The folding-doors were thrown open, and all conversation ceased at the entrance of Don Roderigo Calderon.
This remarkable personage had risen from the situation of a confidential scribe to the Duke of Lerma to the nominal rank of secretary to the King--to the real station of autocrat of Spain.