Regent.  You take part with our opponents?

Machiavel.  Assuredly not in my heart.  Would that with my understanding
I could be wholly on our side!

Regent.  If such your disposition, it were better I should resign the regency to them; for both Egmont and Orange entertained great hopes of occupying this position.  Then they were adversaries, now they are leagued against me, and have become friends—­inseparable friends.

Machiavel.  A dangerous pair.

Regent.  To speak candidly, I fear Orange.—­I fear for Egmont.—­Orange meditates some dangerous scheme, his thoughts are far-reaching, he is reserved, appears to accede to everything, never contradicts, and while maintaining the show of reverence, with clear foresight accomplishes his own designs.

Machiavel.  Egmont, on the contrary, advances with a bold step, as if the world were all his own.

Regent.  He bears his head as proudly as if the hand of majesty were not suspended over him.

Machiavel.  The eyes of all the people are fixed upon him, and he is the idol of their hearts.

Regent.  He has never assumed the least disguise, and carries himself as if no one had a right to call him to account.  He still bears the name of Egmont.  Count Egmont is the title by which he loves to hear himself addressed, as though he would fain be reminded that his ancestors were masters of Guelderland.  Why does he not assume his proper title,—­Prince of Gaure?  What object has he in view?  Would he again revive extinguished claims?

Machiavel.  I hold him for a faithful servant of the king.

Regent.  Were he so inclined, what important service could he not render to the government?  Whereas, now, without benefiting himself, he has caused us unspeakable vexation.  His banquets and entertainment have done more to unite the nobles and to knit them together than the most dangerous secret associations.  With his toasts, his guests have drunk in a permanent intoxication, a giddy frenzy, that never subsides.  How often have his facetious jests stirred up the minds of the populace? and what an excitement was produced among the mob by the new liveries, and the extravagant devices of his followers!

Machiavel.  I am convinced he had no design.

Regent.  Be that as it may, it is bad enough.  As I said before, he injures us without benefiting himself.  He treats as a jest matters of serious import; and, not to appear negligent and remiss, we are forced to treat seriously what he intended as a jest.  Thus one urges on the other; and what we are endeavouring to avert is actually brought to pass.  He is more dangerous than the acknowledged head of a conspiracy; and I am much mistaken if it is not all remembered against him at court.  I cannot deny that scarcely a day passes in which he does not wound me—­deeply wound me.

Machiavel.  He appears to me to act on all occasions, according to the dictates of his conscience.  Regent.  His conscience has a convenient mirror.  His demeanour is often offensive.  He carries himself as if he felt he were the master here, and were withheld by courtesy alone from making us feel his supremacy; as if he would not exactly drive us out of the country; there’ll be no need for that.