were respectively to
accommodate the knights of the order and the guests of high
distinction. In the rear of these were other benches for the members
of the three great councils. In the center of the stage was a splendid
canopy, decorated with the arms of Burgundy, beneath which were placed
three gilded arm-chairs. All the seats upon the platform were vacant;
but the benches below, assigned to the deputies of the provinces, were
already filled. Numerous representatives from all the States but
two--Gelderland and Overyssel--had already taken their places. Grave
magistrates in chain and gown, and executive officers in the splendid
civic uniforms for which the Netherlands were celebrated, already
filled every seat within the space allotted. The remainder of the hall
was crowded with the more favored portion of the multitude, which had
been fortunate enough to procure admission to the exhibition. The
archers and halbardiers of the body-guard kept watch at all the doors.
The theater was filled, the audience was eager with expectation, the
actors were yet to arrive.

As the clock struck three, the hero of the scene appeared. Caesar, as
he was always designated in the classic language of the day, entered,
leaning on the shoulder of William of Orange. They came from the
chapel, and were immediately followed by Philip the Second and Queen
Mary of Hungary. The Archduke Maximilian, the Duke of Savoy, and
other great personages came afterward, accompanied by a glittering
throng of warriors, councilors, governors, and Knights of the Fleece.

Many individuals of existing or future historic celebrity in the
Netherlands, whose names are so familiar to the student of the epoch,
seemed to have been grouped, as if by premeditated design, upon this
imposing platform, where the curtain was to fall forever upon the
mightiest emperor since Charlemagne, and where the opening scene of
the long and tremendous tragedy of Philip's reign was to be
simultaneously enacted. There was the bishop of Arras, soon to be
known throughout Christendom by the more celebrated title of Cardinal
Granvelle--the serene and smiling priest, whose subtle influence over
the destinies of so many individuals then present, and over the
fortunes of the whole land, was to be so extensive and so deadly.
There was that flower of Flemish chivalry, the lineal descendant of
ancient Frisian kings, already distinguished for his bravery in many
fields, but not having yet won thos