Then the Count de Hoogstraeten began to read (for all that he was coughing continually because of the smoke) certain letters which had been intercepted on their way from Alava, the Spanish ambassador, to the Governess of the Netherlands.
“The ambassador,” he said, “writes that all the evil that has happened in the Low Countries was the work of three men: the Lords of Orange, Egmont, and Hoorn. But it were desirable, he adds, to appear well disposed to these three, and to tell them that the King recognizes that it is thanks to them that their lands have been kept loyal to him. As for the two others, Montigny and de Berghes, let them alone where they are.”
“Ah!” said Ulenspiegel, “I had rather a smoky chimney in the land of Flanders than a damp prison in the land of Spain; for garrotters grow between damp walls.”
But the Count de Hoogstraeten continued:
“The said ambassador adds that on one occasion the King, being in the city of Madrid, spoke these words: ‘By all accounts that come from the Low Countries it is evident that our royal reputation is diminished, and we are ready therefore to abandon all our other possessions rather than leave such a rebellion unpunished. We are decided to proceed to the Netherlands in person, and to claim the assistance of the Pope and of the Emperor. For beneath the present evil is concealed a future good. We shall reclaim the Low Countries to absolute obedience, and according to our own will we shall modify the constitution of that State, its religion and its government.’”
“Ah, King Philip,” said Ulenspiegel, “if only I could modify yours to mine! Verily you would suffer, under the blows of my trusty Flemish stick, a wondrous modification of your thighs and arms and legs! I would fix your head in the middle of your back with a couple of nails, and as you viewed from this position the charnel-house you have created, you should sing at your good ease a pretty song of tyrannous modification!”
Now wine was brought, and de Hoogstraeten rose upon his feet and said:
“I drink to our country!” and every one followed his example, and when he had finished the toast he threw his empty tankard down on the table, and said: “Now sounds an evil hour for the nobility of Belgium. Let us take counsel as to how we may best defend ourselves.”
He awaited some response, and looked at d’Egmont, but he uttered not a word, and it was left to William of Orange to break the silence.
“We can offer resistance,” he said, “provided that the Count d’Egmont—who at Saint-Quentin and at Gravelines has twice made France to tremble and who holds complete sway over the Flemish soldiery—provided that he, I repeat, is willing to come to our assistance in our endeavour to prevent the Spaniard from entering the fatherland.”