Leicester, after the first burst of his anger was over, was willing to return to the Provinces.  He protested that he had a greater affection for the Netherland people—­not for the governing powers—­even than he felt for the people of England.—­“There is nothing sticks in my stomach,” he said, “but the good-will of that poor afflicted people, for whom, I take God to record, I could be content to lose any limb I have to do them good.”  But he was crippled with debt, and the Queen resolutely refused to lend him a few thousand pounds, without which he could not stir.  Walsingham in vain did battle with her parsimony, representing how urgently and vividly the necessity of his return had been depicted by all her ministers in both countries, and how much it imported to her own safety and service.  But she was obdurate.  “She would rather,” he said bitterly to Leicester, “hazard the increase of confusion there—­which may put the whole country in peril—­than supply your want.  The like course she holdeth in the rest of her causes, which maketh me to wish myself from the helm.”  At last she agreed to advance him ten thousand pounds, but on so severe conditions, that the Earl declared himself heart-broken again, and protested that he would neither accept the money, nor ever set foot in the Netherlands.  “Let Norris stay there,” he said in a fury; “he will do admirably, no doubt.  Only let it not be supposed that I can be there also.  Not for one hundred thousand pounds would I be in that country with him.”

Meantime it was agreed that Lord Buckhurst should be sent forth on what Wilkes termed a mission of expostulation, and a very ill-timed one.  This new envoy was to inquire into the causes of the discontent, and to do his best to remove them:  as if any man in England or in Holland doubted as to the causes, or as to the best means of removing them; or as if it were not absolutely certain that delay was the very worst specific that could be adopted—­delay—­which the Netherland statesmen, as well as the Queen’s wisest counsellors, most deprecated, which Alexander and Philip most desired, and by indulging in which her Majesty was most directly playing into her adversary’s hand.  Elizabeth was preparing to put cards upon the table against an antagonist whose game was close, whose honesty was always to be suspected, and who was a consummate master in what was then considered diplomatic sleight of hand.  So Lord Buckhurst was to go forth to expostulate at the Hague, while transports were loading in Cadiz and Lisbon, reiters levying in Germany, pikemen and musketeers in Spain and Italy, for a purpose concerning which Walsingham and Barneveld had for a long time felt little doubt.

Meantime Lord Leicester went to Bath to drink the waters, and after he had drunk the waters, the Queen, ever anxious for his health, was resolved that he should not lose the benefit of those salubrious draughts by travelling too soon, or by plunging anew into the fountains of bitterness which flowed perennially in the Netherlands.