t maybe trusted which was printed during her lifetime.
(It bears the title: Discours sur la Blessure de Monseigneur Prince
d'Orange, 1582, without notice of the place where it was printed,
and is to be found in the Elector's library at Dresden.) She
languished, it is there stated, at Namur in poverty, and so ill-
supported by her son (the then governor of the Netherlands), that
her own secretary, Aldrobandin, called her sojourn there an exile.
But the writer goes on to ask what better treatment could she
expect from a son who, when still very young, being on a visit to
her at Brussels, snapped his fingers at her behind her back.]

At the same time a diploma was forwarded to the Duke of Alva,
constituting him, in her stead, viceroy of all the Netherlands, with
unlimited powers.

Gladly would Margaret have learned that she was permitted to resign the
regency before a solemn assembly of the states, a wish which she had not
very obscurely hinted to the king. But she was not gratified. She was
particularly fond of solemnity, and the example of the Emperor, her
father, who had exhibited the extraordinary spectacle of his abdication
of the crown in this very city, seemed to have great attractions for
her. As she was compelled to part with supreme power, she could
scarcely be blamed for wishing to do so with as much splendor as
possible. Moreover, she had not failed to observe how much the general
hatred of the duke had effected in her own favor, and she looked,
therefore, the more wistfully forward to a scene, which promised to be
at once so flattering to her and so affecting. She would have been glad
to mingle her own tears with those which she hoped to see shed by the
Netherlanders for their good regent. Thus the bitterness of her descent
from the throne would have been alleviated by the expression of general
sympathy. Little as she had done to merit the general esteem during the
nine years of her administration, while fortune smiled upon her, and the
approbation of her sovereign was the limit to all her wishes, yet now
the sympathy of the nation had acquired a value in her eyes as the only
thing which could in some degree compensate to her for the
disappointment of all her other hopes. Fain would she have persuaded
herself that she had become a voluntary sacrifice to her goodness of
heart and her too humane feelings towards the Netherlanders. As,
however, the king was very far from being disposed