treaty sent him by his son-in-law, until it had undergone certain material
modifications. If the Spanish monarch hesitated to approve the treaty in
the doubtful posture of his affairs, he was little likely to do so, when
he had the game entirely in his own hands. [2]

He postponed an answer to Philip's application, willing probably to gain
time for the Great Captain to strengthen himself firmly in his recent
acquisitions. At length, after a considerable interval, he despatched an
embassy to France, announcing his final determination never to ratify a
treaty made in contempt of his orders, and so clearly detrimental to his
interests. He endeavored, however, to gain further time by spinning out
the negotiation, holding up for this purpose the prospect of an ultimate
accommodation, and suggesting the re-establishment of his kinsman, the
unfortunate Frederic, on the Neapolitan throne, as the best means of
effecting it. The artifice, however, was too gross even for the credulous
Louis; who peremptorily demanded of the ambassadors the instant and
absolute ratification of the treaty, and, on their declaring it was beyond
their powers, ordered them at once to leave his court. "I had rather,"
said he, "suffer the loss of a kingdom, which may perhaps be retrieved,
than the loss of honor, which never can." A noble sentiment, but falling
with no particular grace from the lips of Louis the Twelfth. [3]

The whole of this blind transaction is stated in so irreconcilable a
manner by the historians of the different nations, that it is extremely
difficult to draw anything like a probable narrative out of them. The
Spanish writers assert that the public commission of the archduke was
controlled by strict private instructions; [4] while the French, on the
other hand, are either silent as to the latter, or represent them to have
been as broad and unlimited as his credentials. [5] If this be true, the
negotiations must be admitted to exhibit, on the part of Ferdinand, as