it would have been better altogether omitted.  If the Archduke,” he continued, with hardly dissembled irony, “be desirous of taking charge of his Majesty’s affairs, it would be preferable to employ himself in the customary manner.  Your Majesty would do a laudable action by recalling him from this place, according to your Majesty’s promise to me to that effect.”  In conclusion, Don John complained that difficulties had been placed in his way for making levies of troops in the Empire, while every facility had been afforded to the rebels.  He therefore urgently insisted that so unnatural and unjust a condition of affairs should be remedied.

Don John was not sorry in his heart that the crisis was at last come.  His chain was broken.  His wrath exploded in his first interview with Leyton, the English envoy, whom Queen Elizabeth had despatched to calm, if possible, his inevitable anger at her recent treaty with the states.  He knew nothing of England, he said, nor of France, nor of the Emperor.  His Catholic Majesty had commissioned him now to make war upon these rebellious provinces.  He would do it with all his heart.  As for the Emperor, he would unchain the Turks upon him for his perfidy.  As for the burghers of Brussels, they would soon feel his vengeance.

It was very obvious that these were not idle threats.  War had again broken loose throughout these doomed provinces.  A small but well-appointed army had been rapidly collecting under the banner of Don John at Luxemburg, Peter Ernest Mansfeld had brought many well-trained troops from France, and Prince Alexander of Parma had arrived with several choice and veteran regiments of Italy and Spain.  The old schoolfellow, playmate and comrade of Don John, was shocked-on his arrival, to witness the attenuated frame and care-worn features of his uncle.  The son of Charles the Fifth, the hero of Lepanto, seemed even to have lost the air of majesty which was so natural to him, for petty insults, perpetual crosses, seemed to have left their squalid traces upon his features.  Nevertheless, the crusader was alive again, at the notes of warlike preparations which now resounded throughout the land.

On the 25th of January he issued a proclamation, couched in three languages—­French, German, and Flemish.  He declared in this document that he had not come to enslave the provinces, but to protect them.  At the same time he meant to re-establish his Majesty’s authority, and the down-trod religion of Rome.  He summoned all citizens and all soldiers throughout the provinces to join his banners, offering them pardon for their past offences, and protection against heretics and rebels.  This declaration was the natural consequence of the exchange of defiances which had already taken place, and it was evident also that the angry manifesto was soon to be followed up by vigorous blows.  The army of Don John already numbered more than twenty thousand well-seasoned and disciplined veterans.  He was himself the most