The interviews which followed were more tempestuous than ever.  “I had intended that my Lord of Leicester should return to you,” she said to the envoys.  “But that shall never be.  He has been treated with gross ingratitude, he has served the Provinces with ability, he has consumed his own property there, he has risked his life, he has lost his near kinsman, Sir Philip Sidney, whose life I should be glad to purchase with many millions, and, in place of all reward, he receives these venomous letters, of which a copy has been sent to his sovereign to blacken him with her.”  She had been advising him to return, she added, but she was now resolved that he should “never set foot in the Provinces again.”

Here the Earl, who, was present, exclaimed—­beating himself on the breast—­“a tali officio libera nos, Domine!”

But the States, undaunted by these explosions of wrath, replied that it had ever been their custom, when their laws and liberties were invaded, to speak their mind boldly to kings and governors, and to procure redress of their grievances, as became free men.

During that whole spring the Queen was at daggers drawn with all her leading counsellors, mainly in regard to that great question of questions—­the relations of England with the Netherlands and Spain.  Walsingham—­who felt it madness to dream of peace, and who believed it the soundest policy to deal with Parma and his veterans upon the soil of Flanders, with the forces of the republic for allies, rather than to await his arrival in London—­was driven almost to frenzy by what he deemed the Queen’s perverseness.

“Our sharp words continue,” said the Secretary, “which doth greatly disquiet her Majesty, and discomfort her poor servants that attend her.  The Lord-Treasurer remaineth still in disgrace, and, behind my back, her Majesty giveth out very hard speeches of myself, which I the rather credit, for that I find, in dealing with her, I am nothing gracious; and if her Majesty could be otherwise served, I know I should not be used . . . . .  Her Majesty doth wholly lend herself to devise some further means to disgrace her poor council, in respect whereof she neglecteth all other causes . . . .  The discord between her Majesty and her council hindereth the necessary consultations that were to be destined for the preventing of the manifold perils that hang over this realm. . . .  Sir Christopher Hatton hath dealt very plainly and dutifully with her, which hath been accepted in so evil part as he is resolved to retire for a time.  I assure you I find every man weary of attendance here. . . .  I would to God I could find as good resolution in her Majesty to proceed in a princely course in relieving the United Provinces, as I find an honorable disposition in your Lordship to employ yourself in their service.”

The Lord-Treasurer was much puzzled, very wretched, but philosophically resigned.  “Why her Majesty useth me thus strangely, I know not,” he observed.  “To some she saith that she meant not I should have gone from the court; to some she saith, she may not admit me, nor give me contentment.  I shall dispose myself to enjoy God’s favour, and shall do nothing to deserve her disfavour.  And if I be suffered to be a stranger to her affairs, I shall have a quieter life.”