me, might be found lurking in the costume of the fool. However
witty or appropriate the invention, the livery had an immense success.
According to agreement, the nobles who had dined with the treasurer
ordered it for all their servants. Never did a new dress become so soon
the fashion. The unpopularity of the minister assisted the quaintness of
the device. The fool's-cap livery became the rage. Never was such a run
upon the haberdashers, mercers, and tailors, since Brussels had been a
city. All the frieze-cloth in Brabant was exhausted. All the serge in
Flanders was clipped into monastic cowls. The Duchess at first laughed
with the rest, but the Cardinal took care that the king should be at once
informed upon the subject. The Regent was, perhaps, not extremely sorry
to see the man ridiculed whom she so cordially disliked, and, she
accepted the careless excuses made on the subject by Egmont and by Orange
without severe criticism. She wrote to her brother that, although the
gentlemen had been influenced by no evil intention, she had thought it
best to exhort them not to push the jest too far. Already, however, she
found that two thousand pairs, of sleeves had been made, and the most she
could obtain was that the fools' caps, or monks' hoods, should in future
be omitted from the livery. A change was accordingly made in the costume,
at about the time of the cardinal's departure.

A bundle of arrows, or in some instances a wheat-sheaf, was substituted
for the cowls. Various interpretations were placed upon this new emblem.
According to the nobles themselves, it denoted the union of all their
hearts in the King's service, while their enemies insinuated that it was
obviously a symbol of conspiracy. The costume thus amended was worn by
the gentlemen themselves, as well as by their servants. Egmont dined at
the Regent's table, after the Cardinal's departure, in a camlet doublet,
with hanging sleeves, and buttons stamped with the bundle of arrows.

For the present, the Cardinal affected to disapprove of the fashion only
from its rebellious tendency. The fools' caps and cowls, he meekly
observed to Philip, were the least part of the offence, for an injury to
himself could be easily forgiven. The wheat-sheaf and the arrow-bundles,
however, were very vile things, for they betokened and confirmed the
existence of a conspiracy, such as never could be tolerated by a prince
who had any regard for his own authority.

This incident of th