CHAPTER V.THE TRUE FATA MORGANA.
In the royal chamber, before a table covered with papers, sat the King and his secretary.

Grave, sullen, and taciturn, there was little in the habitual manner of Philip the Third that could betray to the most experienced courtier the outward symptoms of favour or caprice.
Education had fitted him for the cloister, but the necessities of despotism had added acute cunning to slavish superstition.

The business for which Calderon had been summoned was despatched, with a silence broken but by monosyllables from the king, and brief explanations from the secretary; and Philip, rising, gave the signal for Calderon to retire.

It was then that the king, turning a dull but steadfast eye upon the marquis, said, with a kind of effort, as if speech were painful to him, "The prince left me but a minute before your entrance--have you seen him since your return ?" "Your majesty, yes.

He honoured me this morning with his presence." "On state affairs ?" "Your majesty knows, I trust, that your servant treats of state affairs only with your August self, or your appointed ministers." "The prince has favoured you, Don Roderigo." "Your majesty commanded me to seek that favour." "It is true.