Henry had lived long enough, however, after the conclusion of the secret agreement to reveal it to one whose life was to be employed in thwarting this foul conspiracy of monarchs against their subjects.  William of Orange, then a hostage for the execution of the treaty of Cateau Cambresis, was the man with whom the King had the unfortunate conception to confer on the subject of the plot.  The Prince, who had already gained the esteem of Charles the Fifth by his habitual discretion, knew how to profit by the intelligence and to bide his time; but his hostility to the policy of the French and Spanish courts was perhaps dated from that hour.

Pending the peace negotiations, Philip had been called upon to mourn for his wife and father.  He did not affect grief for the death of Mary Tudor, but he honored the Emperor’s departure with stately obsequies at Brussels.  The ceremonies lasted two days (the 29th and 30th December, 1558).  In the grand and elaborate procession which swept through the streets upon the first day, the most conspicuous object was a ship floating apparently upon the waves, and drawn by a band of Tritons who disported at the bows.  The masts, shrouds, and sails of the vessel were black, it was covered with heraldic achievements, banners and emblematic mementos of the Emperor’s various expeditions, while the flags of Turks and Moors trailed from her sides in the waves below.  Three allegorical personages composed the crew.  Hope, “all clothyd in brown, with anker in hand,” stood at the prow; Faith, with sacramental chalice and red cross, clad in white garment, with her face nailed “with white tiffany,” sat on a “stool of estate” before the mizen-mast; while Charity “in red, holding in her hand a burning heart,” was at the helm to navigate the vessel.  Hope, Faith, and Love were thought the most appropriate symbols for the man who had invented the edicts, introduced the inquisition, and whose last words, inscribed by a hand already trembling with death, had adjured his son, by his love, allegiance, and hope of salvation, to deal to all heretics the extreme rigor of the law, “without respect of persons and without regard to any plea in their favor.”

The rest of the procession, in which marched the Duke of Alva, the Prince of Orange, and other great personages, carrying the sword, the globe, the sceptre, and the “crown imperial,” contained no emblems or imagery worthy of being recorded.  The next day the King, dressed in mourning and attended by a solemn train of high officers and nobles, went again to the church.  A contemporary letter mentions a somewhat singular incident as forming the concluding part of the ceremony.  “And the service being done,” wrote Sir Richard Clough to Sir Thomas Gresham, “there went a nobleman into the herse (so far as I codde understande, it was the Prince of Orange), who, standing before the herse, struck with his hand upon the chest and sayd, ‘He is ded.’  Then standing styli awhile, he sayd, ’He shall remayn ded.’  And ’then resting awhile, he struck again and sayd, ’He is ded, and there is another rysen up in his place greater than ever he was.’  Whereupon the Kynge’s hoode was taken off and the Kynge went home without his hoode.”