The Reformers had not gained much, but they were satisfied.  The Catholics retained their churches, their property, their consideration.  The states of Holland had voted him fifty thousand florins, as an acknowledgment of his efforts in restoring peace.  He had refused the present.  He was in debt, pressed for money, but he did not choose, as he informed Philip, “that men should think his actions governed by motives of avarice or particular interest, instead of the true affection which he bore to his Majesty’s service and the good of the country.”  Nevertheless, his back was hardly turned before all his work was undone by the Regent.

A new and important step on the part of the government had now placed him in an attitude of almost avowed rebellion.  All functionaries, from governors of provinces down to subalterns in the army, were required to take a new oath of allegiance, “novum et hactenua inusitatum religionia juramentum,” as the Prince characterized it, which was, he said, quite equal to the inquisition.  Every man who bore his Majesty’s commission was ordered solemnly to pledge himself to obey the orders of government, every where, and against every person, without limitation or restriction.—­Count Mansfeld, now “factotum at Brussels,” had taken the oath with great fervor.  So had Aerachot, Berlaymont, Meghem, and, after a little wavering, Egmont.  Orange spurned the proposition.  He had taken oaths enough which he had never broken, nor intended now to break:  He was ready still to do every thing conducive to the real interest of the monarch.  Who dared do more was no true servant to the government, no true lover of the country.  He would never disgrace himself by a blind pledge, through which he might be constrained to do acts detrimental, in his opinion, to the safety of the crown, the happiness of the commonwealth, and his own honor.  The alternative presented he willingly embraced.  He renounced all his offices, and desired no longer to serve a government whose policy he did not approve, a King by whom he was suspected.

His resignation was not accepted by the Duchess, who still made efforts to retain the services of a man who was necessary to her administration.  She begged him, notwithstanding the purely defensive and watchful attitude which he had now assumed, to take measures that Brederode should abandon his mischievous courses.  She also reproached the Prince with having furnished that personage with artillery for his fortifications.  Orange answered, somewhat contemptuously, that he was not Brederode’s keeper, and had no occasion to meddle with his affairs.  He had given him three small field-pieces, promised long ago; not that he mentioned that circumstance as an excuse for the donation.  “Thank God,” said he, “we have always had the liberty in this country of making to friends or relatives what presents we liked, and methinks that things have come to a pretty pass when such trifles are scrutinized.”  Certainly, as Suzerain of Viane, and threatened with invasion in his seignorial rights, the Count might think himself justified in strengthening the bulwarks of his little stronghold, and the Prince could hardly be deemed very seriously to endanger the safety of the crown by the insignificant present which had annoyed the Regent.