,) "issue
of worthy, sires," whose fathers, at least, he had ever loved and
honored.

"They serve the Duke of Alva and the Grand Commander like varlets," he
cried; "they make war upon me to the knife. Afterwards they treat with
me, they reconcile themselves with me, they are sworn foes of the
Spaniard. Don John arrives, and they follow him; they intrigue for my
ruin. Don John fails in his enterprise upon Antwerp citadel; they quit
him incontinently and call upon me. No sooner do I come than, against
their oath and without previous communication with the states or myself,
they call upon the Archduke Matthias. Are the waves of the sea more
inconstant--is Euripus more uncertain than the counsels of such men?"

While these events were occurring at Brussels and Antwerp, a scene of a
different nature was enacting at Ghent. The Duke of Aerschot had recently
been appointed to the government of Flanders by the State Council, but
the choice was exceedingly distasteful to a large number of the
inhabitants. Although, since the defeat of Don John's party in Antwerp,
Aerschot had again become "the affectionate brother" of Orange, yet he
was known to be the head of the cabal which had brought Matthias from
Vienna. Flanders, moreover, swarmed with converts to the Reformed
religion, and the Duke's strict Romanism was well known. The people,
therefore, who hated the Pope and adored the Prince, were furious at the
appointment of the new governor, but by dint of profuse promises
regarding the instant restoration of privileges and charters which had
long lain dormant, the friends of Aerschot succeeded in preparing the way
for his installation.

On the 20th of October, attended by twenty-three companies of infantry
and three hundred horse, he came to Ghent. That famous place was still
one of the most powerful and turbulent towns in Europe. Although
diminished in importance since the commercial decline which had been the
inevitable result of Philip's bloody government, it, was still swarming
with a vigorous and dangerous population and it had not forgotten the
days when the iron tongue of Roland could call eighty thousand fighting
men to the city banner. Even now, twenty thousand were secretly pledged
to rise at the bidding of certain chieftains resident among them; noble
by birth, warmly attached to the Reformed religion, and devoted to
Orange. These gentlemen were perfectly conscious that a reaction was to
be attempted in favor of Don Jo