He had no resource but to
implore the aid of the Spanish court.
Rhodolph was as superstitious as he was bigoted and cruel. Through the
mysteries of alchymy he had been taught to believe that his life would
be endangered by one of his own blood. The idea haunted him by night and
by day; he was to be assassinated, and by a near relative. He was afraid
to marry lest his own child might prove his destined murderer. He was
afraid to have his brothers marry lest it might be a nephew who was to
perpetrate the deed. He did not dare to attend church, or to appear any
where in public without taking the greatest precautions against any
possibility of attack. The galleries of his palace were so arranged with
windows in the roof, that he could pass from one apartment to another
sheltered by impenetrable walls.
This terror, which pursued him every hour, palsied his energies; and
while the Turks were drawing nearer to his capital, and Hungary had
broken from his sway, and insurrection was breaking out in all parts of
his dominions, he secluded himself in the most retired apartments of his
palace at Prague, haunted by visions of terror, as miserable himself as
he had already made millions of his subjects.
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