“I do admit that you have nobly belied what I once thought of you.”
“Why did you think such things of me? You imagined I should become the tool of France, a traitor; you always mistrusted and disliked me. Why do you come to me now? I think you wronged me.…”
He turned his face away sharply, and gazed at the glittering waters of the Vyver glimpsing through the window.
John de Witt answered slowly—
“I was the fool of my own desires, the dupe of my hopes.… I dreamed to make you a great citizen of a great Republic.”
The Prince did not look round.
“You chose the wrong material, Mynheer; you cannot trim a Nassau into the compass of burgher virtues.”
“I was at fault.… I did not allow for your ambitions.”
William turned now.
“My ambitions are to save my country and the Reformed religion.… When I was a child I desired my birthright.… I could never serve.… I was not schooled in ways of love and gentleness.… You did your duty to me as you conceived it, and taught me much,—for one thing the bitterness of a long humiliation, and the lessons that may be learnt in loneliness. I cannot make a parade of gratitude—I cannot thank you—I cannot forget what will influence all my life; but I understand you as you never understood me—and so I can forgive.”