It seemed that only oblivion could give ease to his languid body and aching soul.
In a breath had gone the labour of a lifetime.
He had worked incredibly, with sincerity, with passion, with unsparing patience and energy; and for reward he was thrust aside with hatred and curses for the sake of the heir of the old House from whose tyranny he had saved his country.
No one believed in him, no one trusted in his honour.
He had always been of an integrity above suspicion, but it did not save him from being accused of the vilest crimes. He had given his life to his country, and was reproached with having sold her to her enemies.
He had always lived as simply as an ordinary citizen, nevertheless it was laid to his charge that he had appropriated large sums from the public funds.
Calumny was triumphant; there was no stain she did not try to cast on the name of a man who had never committed a single unworthy action.
His former good fame availed him nothing; the prosperity of the country under his rule was not remembered to his credit now.
Malice would not listen to reason nor justice.
And there was no one who dared speak for him save those helpless in a like case. There were a few faithful, his brother-in-law, Vivien, Pensionary of Dordt, Peter de Groot, Colonel Bampfield, but their voices could not be heard above the shrieks of the factions. They had their own several lives and honours to look to; if they could no longer support him he could no longer protect them.