d!' If we all think thus, twenty
Spanish armies will find their graves before these walls. On Leyden
depends the liberty of Holland. If we waver and fall, to escape the
misery that only threatens us to-day, but will pitilessly oppress and
torture us later, our children will say: 'The men of Leyden were blind
cowards; it is their fault, that the name of Hollander is held in no
higher esteem, than that of a useless slave.' But if we faithfully
hold out and resist the gloomy foreigner to the last man and the
last mouthful of bread, they will remember us with tears and joyfully
exclaim: 'We owe it to them, that our noble, industrious, happy people
is permitted to place itself proudly beside the other nations, and need
no longer tolerate the miserable cuckoo in its own nest. Let whoever
loves honor, whoever is no degenerate wretch, that betrays his parents'
house, whoever would rather be a free man than a slave, ere raising
his hand before God to take the oath, exclaim with me: 'Long live our
shield, Orange, and a free Holland!'"

"They shall live!" shouted hundreds of powerful voices, five, ten,
twenty times. The gunner discharged the cannon planted near the target,
drums beat, one flourish of trumpets after another filled the air, the
ringing of bells from all the towers of the city echoed over the
heads of the enthusiastic crowd, and the cheering continued until the
commissioner waved his hand and the swearing fealty began.

The guilds and the armed defenders of the city pressed forward in bands
under the linden. Now impetuously, now with dignified calmness, now
with devout exaltation, hands were raised to take the oath, and whoever
clasped hands did so with fervent warmth. Two hours elapsed before all
had sworn loyalty, and many a group that had passed under the linden
together, warmly grasped each other's hands on the grounds in pledge of
a second silent vow.

Nicolas Van Wibisma sat silently, with his letter in his lap, beside a
target opposite the spot where the oath was taken, but sorrowful, bitter
emotions were seething in his breast. How gladly he would have wept
aloud and torn his father's letter! How gladly, when he saw the
venerable Herr Van Montfort come hand in hand with the grey-haired Van
der Does to be sworn, he would have rushed to their side to take the
oath, and call to the earnest man beneath the linden:

"I am no degenerate wretch, who betrays his parents' house; I desire to
be no slave, no Spaniar