The affectation of clement intentions was still maintained, together with the empty pretence of the royal visit.  Alva and his army were coming merely to prepare the way for the King, who still represented himself as “debonair and gentle, slow to anger, and averse from bloodshed.”  Superficial people believed that the King was really coming, and hoped wonders from his advent.  The Duchess knew better.  The Pope never believed in it, Granvelle never believed in it, the Prince of Orange never believed in it, Councillor d’Assonleville never believed in it.  “His Majesty,” says the Walloon historian, who wrote from Assonleville’s papers, “had many imperative reasons for not coming.  He was fond of quiet, he was a great negotiator, distinguished for phlegm and modesty, disinclined to long journeys, particularly to sea voyages, which were very painful to him.  Moreover, he was then building his Escorial with so much taste and affection that it was impossible for him to leave home.”  These excellent reasons sufficed to detain the monarch, in whose place a general was appointed, who, it must be confessed, was neither phlegmatic nor modest, and whose energies were quite equal to the work required.  There had in truth never been any thing in the King’s project of visiting the Netherlands but pretence.

On the other hand, the work of Orange for the time was finished.  He had saved Antwerp, he had done his best to maintain the liberties of the country, the rights of conscience, and the royal authority, so far as they were compatible with each other.  The alternative had now been distinctly forced upon every man, either to promise blind obedience or to accept the position of a rebel.  William of Orange had thus become a rebel.  He had been requested to sign the new oath, greedily taken by the Mansfelds, the Berlaymont, the Aerachot, and the Egmonts, to obey every order which he might receive, against every person and in every place, without restriction or limitation,—­and he had distinctly and repeatedly declined the demand.  He had again and again insisted upon resigning all his offices.  The Duchess, more and more anxious to gain over such an influential personage to the cause of tyranny, had been most importunate in her requisitions.  “A man with so noble a heart,” she wrote to the Prince, “and with a descent from, such illustrious and loyal ancestors, can surely not forget his duties to his Majesty and the country.”

William of Orange knew his duty to both better than the Duchess could understand.  He answered this fresh summons by reminding her that he had uniformly refused the new and extraordinary pledge required of him.  He had been true to his old oaths, and therefore no fresh pledge was necessary.  Moreover, a pledge without limitation he would never take.  The case might happen, he said, that he should be ordered to do things contrary to his conscience, prejudicial to his Majesty’s service, and in violation of his oaths to maintain the laws of the country.  He therefore once more resigned all his offices, and signified his intention of leaving the provinces.