warmly urging.  He described Philip as the most liberal and debonair of princes; his council in Spain as cruel and sanguinary.  Time was to show whether the epithets thus applied to the advisers were not more applicable to the monarch than the eulogies thus lavished by the blind and predestined victim.  It will also be perceived that this language, used before the estates of Artois, varied materially from his observation to the Dowager Duchess of Aerschot, denouncing as enemies the men who accused him of having requested a moderation of the edicts.  In truth, this most vacillating, confused, and unfortunate of men perhaps scarcely comprehended the purport of his recent negotiations in Spain, nor perceived the drift of his daily remarks at home.  He was, however, somewhat vainglorious immediately after his return, and excessively attentive to business.  “He talks like a King,” said Morillon, spitefully, “negotiates night and day, and makes all bow before him.”  His house was more thronged with petitioners, courtiers, and men of affairs, than even the palace of the Duchess.  He avowed frequently that he would devote his life and his fortune to the accomplishment of the King’s commands, and declared his uncompromising hostility to all who should venture to oppose that loyal determination.

It was but a very short time, however, before a total change was distinctly perceptible in his demeanor.  These halcyon days were soon fled.  The arrival of fresh letters from Spain gave a most unequivocal evidence of the royal determination, if, indeed, any doubt could be rationally entertained before.  The most stringent instructions to keep the whole machinery of persecution constantly at work were transmitted to the Duchess, and aroused the indignation of Orange and his followers.  They avowed that they could no longer trust the royal word, since, so soon after Egmont’s departure, the King had written despatches so much at variance with his language, as reported by the envoy.  There was nothing, they said, clement and debonair in these injunctions upon gentlemen of their position and sentiments to devote their time to the encouragement of hangmen and inquisitors.  The Duchess was unable to pacify the nobles.  Egmont was beside himself with rage.  With his usual recklessness and wrath, he expressed himself at more than one session of the state council in most unmeasured terms.  His anger had been more inflamed by information which he had received from the second son of Berlaymont, a young and indiscreet lad, who had most unfortunately communicated many secrets which he had learned from his father, but which were never intended for Egmont’s ear.