Was it strange that Heneage, placed in so responsible a situation, and with the fate of England, of Holland, and perhaps of all Christendom, hanging in great measure upon this delicate negotiation, should be amazed at such contradictory orders, and grieved by such inconsistent censures?

“To tell you my griefs and my lacks,” said he to Walsingham, “would little please you or help me.  Therefore I will say nothing, but think there was never man in so great a service received so little comfort and so contrarious directions.  But ‘Dominus est adjutor in tribulationibus.’  If it be possible, let me receive some certain direction, in following which I shall not offend her Majesty, what good or hurt soever I do besides.”

This certainly seemed a loyal and reasonable request, yet it was not one likely to be granted.  Sir Thomas, perplexed, puzzled, blindfolded, and brow-beaten, always endeavoring to obey orders, when he could comprehend them, and always hectored and lectured whether he obeyed them or not—­ ruined in purse by the expenses, of a mission on which he had been sent without adequate salary—­appalled at the disaffection waging more formidable every hour in Provinces which were recently so loyal to her Majesty, but which were now pervaded by a suspicion that there was double-dealing upon her part became quite sick of his life.  He fell seriously ill, and was disappointed, when, after a time, the physicians declared him convalescent.  For when when he rose from his sick-bed, it was only to plunge once more, without a clue, into the labyrinth where he seemed to be losing his reason.  “It is not long,” said he to Walsingham, “since I looked to have written you no more letters, my extremity was so great. . .  But God’s will is best, otherwise I could have liked better to have cumbered the earth no longer, where I find myself contemned, and which I find no reason to see will be the better in the wearing . . .  It were better for her Majesty’s service that the directions which come were not contrarious one to another, and that those you would have serve might know what is meant, else they cannot but much deceive you, as well as displease you.”

Public opinion concerning the political morality of the English court was not gratifying, nor was it rendered more favourable by these recent transactions.  “I fear,” said Heneage, “that the world will judge what Champagny wrote in one of his letters out of England (which I have lately seen) to be over true.  His words be these, ’Et de vray, c’est le plus fascheux et le plus incertain negocier de ceste court, que je pense soit au monde.’” And so “basting,” as he said, “with a weak body and a willing mind; to do, he feared, no good work,” he set forth from Middelburgh to rejoin Leicester at Arnheim, in order to obey, as well as he could, the Queen’s latest directions.