“Thank you.” He glanced round the eager faces. “Thank you all for your confidence.…”
They began to call frenzied curses on the MM. de Witt.
William checked them.
“Get back to your homes,” he said, “and pray God to bless the cause I have in hand—to protect—the liberty of this country and the Protestant religion.…”
An old man came forward and kissed the Prince’s stirrup … a girl was sobbing out loud; Mr. Bromley saw William go very pale.
He touched his hat again and pressed on. They fell back as the great horse moved; but they followed him to the Palace gate, blessing him.
A smile not wholly pleasant curled the Prince’s lip. These people who had forsaken his House to obey a burgher citizen cursed their idealist lawyer, the man of peace, at the first touch of danger, and turned frantically to the son of their ancient rulers—the man of action; little real trust had they in maxims and the strength of quiet godliness; when it came to real issues they cried for the sword and the leader.
What did John de Witt’s twenty years of service avail him now?… They called him a traitor, they wanted a Prince and a soldier—even at the price of losing their liberty.
William of Orange would not be content with what John de Witt had taken—a modest salary and the rank of a humble citizen; sovereign power was his price. He might save his country, but he would rule it—as his ancestors had done, and with augmented powers—not the servant of the Republic, like John de Witt, but her master.
And they were very willing to put their liberty beneath his feet.