Then the multitude set up a roar of fury.
"It is false; we do not believe you.

We will see him." "He has slept too long," said one threatening voice; "and it is high time that he should wake." The Queen retired weeping; and the wretched being on whose dominions the sun never set tottered to the window, bowed as he had never bowed before, muttered some gracious promises, waved a handkerchief in the air, bowed again, and withdrew.

Oropesa, afraid of being torn to pieces, retired to his country seat.

Melgar made some show of resistance, garrisoned his house, and menaced the rabble with a shower of grenades, but was soon forced to go after Oropesa; and the supreme power passed to Portocarrero.
Portocarrero was one of a race of men of whom we, happily for us, have seen very little, but whose influence has been the curse of Roman Catholic countries.

He was, like Sixtus the Fourth and Alexander the Sixth, a politician made out of an impious priest.