Why has he been so long forgotten?
He is not of the race that I abhor; no Moorish blood flows in his veins; neither is he of the great and powerful, whom I dread; nor of the crouching and the servile, whom I despise: he is one whom I can aid without a blush." While Calderon thus soliloquised, the arras was lifted aside, and a cavalier, on whose cheek was the first down of manhood, entered the apartment.
"So, Roderigo, alone! welcome back to Madrid.

Nay, seat thyself, man--seat thyself." Calderon bowed with the deepest reverence; and, placing a large fauteuil before the stranger, seated himself on stool, at a little distance.
The new comer was of sallow complexion; his gorgeous dress sparkled with prodigal jewels.

Boy as he was, there was a yet a careless loftiness, a haughty ease, in the gesture--the bend of the neck, the wave of the hand, which, coupled with the almost servile homage of the arrogant favourite, would have convinced the most superficial observer that he was born of the highest rank.

A second glance would have betrayed, in the full Austrian lip--the high, but narrow forehead--the dark, voluptuous, but crafty and sinister eye, the features of the descendant of Charles V.It was the Infant of Spain that stood in the chamber of his ambitious minion.
"This is convenient, this private entrance into thy penetralia, Roderigo.

It shelters me from the prying eyes of Uzeda, who ever seeks to cozen the sire by spying on the Son.