“Sir Henry Wotton told me,” replied James, “that the States at his arrival were assembled to deliberate on this matter, and he had no doubt that they would take a resolution in conformity with my intention.  Now I see very well that you don’t mean to give up the places.  If I had known that before, I should not have warned the Archduke so many times, which I did at the desire of the States themselves.  And now that the Archdukes are ready to restore their cities, you insist on holding yours.  That is the dish you set before me.”

And upon this James swore a mighty oath, and beat himself upon the breast.

“Now and nevermore will I trouble myself about the States’ affairs, come what come will,” he continued.  “I have always been upright in my words and my deeds, and I am not going to embark myself in a wicked war because the States have plunged themselves into one so entirely unjust.  Next summer the Spaniard means to divide himself into two or three armies in order to begin his enterprises in Germany.”

Caron respectfully intimated that these enterprises would be most conveniently carried on from the very advantageous positions which be occupied in the duchies.  “No,” said the King, “he must restore them on the same day on which you make your surrender, and he will hardly come back in a hurry.”

“Quite the contrary,” said the Ambassador, “they will be back again in a twinkling, and before we have the slightest warning of their intention.”

But it signified not the least what Caron said.  The King continued to vociferate that the States had never had any intention of restoring the cities.

“You mean to keep them for yourselves,” he cried, “which is the greatest injustice that could be perpetrated.  You have no right to them, and they belong to other people.”

The Ambassador reminded him that the Elector of Brandenburg was well satisfied that they should be occupied by the States for his greater security and until the dispute should be concluded.

“And that will never be,” said James; “never, never.  The States are powerful enough to carry on the war all alone and against all the world.”

And so he went on, furiously reiterating the words with which he had begun the conversation, “without accepting any reasons whatever in payment,” as poor Caron observed.

“It makes me very sad,” said the Ambassador, “to find your Majesty so impatient and so resolved.  If the names of the kings are to be omitted from the document, the Treaty of Xanten should at least be modified accordingly.”

“Nothing of the kind,” said James; “I don’t understand it so at all.  I speak plainly and without equivocation.  It must be enough for the States that I promise them, in case the enemy is cheating or is trying to play any trick whatever, or is seeking to break the Treaty of Xanten in a single point, to come to their assistance in person.”

And again the warlike James swore a big oath and smote his breast, affirming that he meant everything sincerely; that he cheated no one, but always spoke his thoughts right on, clearly and uprightly.