He was not allowed to open his mouth, even when he occasionally plucked up heart enough to attempt the utterance of his opinions.

His authority was completely dead.
Even if he essayed to combat the convocation of the states-general by the arguments which the Duchess, at his suggestion, had often used for the purpose, he was treated with the same indifference.

"The poor President," wrote Granvelle to the King's chief secretary, Gonzalo Perez, "is afraid, as I hear, to speak a word, and is made to write exactly what they tell him." At the same time the poor President, thus maltreated and mortified, had the vanity occasionally to imagine himself a bold and formidable personage.

The man whom his most intimate friends described as afraid of his own shadow, described himself to Granvelle as one who went his own gait, speaking his mind frankly upon every opportunity, and compelling people to fear him a little, even if they did not love him.

But the Cardinal knew better than to believe in this magnanimous picture of the doctor's fancy.
Viglius was anxious to retire, but unwilling to have the appearance of being disgraced.