He had never associated himself with the violent party of 'Beggars' which Brederode had formed, and to which Count Louis and Ste Aldegonde belonged; at the same time he had resolutely refused to lend his civil authority to enforce religious persecution, and had protested again and again in Council, and in open letter, against the establishment of the Inquisition and the overthrow of the ancient laws of the Netherlands.

This steadfast and just attitude had given him a power during the troubles which followed the enforcement of the Edicts of the Council of Trent which not one of his colleagues possessed; the people had looked to him as a possible champion, the Regent had thrust on him all the most arduous tasks, and all had regarded him as the only man able (if any man were able) to bring about a settlement between Philip and his subjects.

And in this high, arduous, and delicate position the Prince laboured sincerely, wisely, and earnestly, without thought of self-seeking, of disloyalty to the King, or to the Netherlands.

The Duchess, in her terror, her confusion, her powerlessness, leant on his strength almost entirely.

He had gone to Antwerp after the image-breaking, and restored such order there that service was held in the desecrated building the following Sunday; by his presence he had brought about tranquillity in his own provinces of Holland and Zeeland; he had drawn up the Accord of 24th August by which the Duchess, terrified almost into flight by the mania of image-breaking that had swept over the country, granted permission for free preaching on the part of the heretics, and it was he who had seen that she kept her promises when she tried to evade them; it was he who had influenced Brederode to some quietness; he who had counselled all men on all occasions to patience and moderation.

In all these things he had acted more for Philip's interests, in a manner more calculated to save Philip's crown, than had any servant of the King, even Granvelle, beloved of the Escorial.

But he had acted with open eyes, without hope of praise or reward, and knowing perfectly well that his energetic and honest services would go for nothing, and that, by refusing implicit obedience in the matter of the Inquisition, he and the others who had acted with him were for ever damned in the eyes of Philip.

He knew too that the Regent only used him, that she neither trusted nor confided in him; she went back on his actions, tied his hands in a hundred ways, recalled one day the concession she had permitted him to offer the day before, made him the shield of her imperious weakness and her vacillating terror.

He knew that she even wrote to Philip denouncing him as a traitor and at heart a heretic whose design in all he did was self-aggrandizement; none the less in all crises of trouble and confusion she summoned him and relied on him.

And the Prince had served her, for in so doing he believed he served the Netherlands; it was still his dream to bring about some concord which would render the coming of Alva needless.