the ground-down people. The country was ripe for revolt, if any one would head it. The Duchess of Mantua had been appointed vice-queen of Lisbon, and she governed with an unjust harshness. The nobles were subjected to insults at which their fiery pride burned. They who had driven back the hosts of Rome from their borders, and defied the fierce
Moors, were now held slaves under the heel of an imperious woman, the representative of a hated foreign nation. Secret societies were organized, and had night meetings in mysterious places in the town of Lisbon. They spread to the provincial towns, and all Portugal was on the verge of an upheaval. Duke
João of Braganca was the last of the old royal line, and was fondly regarded by the nobles. He was rich and powerful, and had multitudes of dependents. He was their one hope as a rival to the steel grip of Spain.
The secret societies approached him with the deepest privacy. They begged him to take the throne, if they could wrest it from the Spanish hold. They assured him passionately that the people would flock round him, the nobles would put their swords at his service. He was the rightful heir to the crown, and if he would but pledge himself to take it, they would win it for him. Dom João, perhaps not unnaturally, hesitated. To venture and lose, would be to lose too his dukedom, his life, it might be the lives of his family. He had been born in the times of oppression. It may be the chains did not gall so much as if they had been clapped on later.
The moment was vital. Some whisper, perhaps, had got abroad of the temper of the Portuguese people, and Philip of Spain's Prime Minister had summoned Dom João to appear at Madrid. The summons was a menace, and so he understood it. He temporized, and delayed his journey for eight days, sending on some of his servants ahead in the meanwhile. It is curious to read that it was the baby
