the nobles to the King, in Spain, and also to support
their petition with all her influence. In the mean time she would
recommend the inquisitors to administer their office with moderation;
but in return, she should expect, on the part of the league, that they
should abstain from all acts of violence, and undertake nothing to the
prejudice of the Catholic faith." Little as these vague and general
promises satisfied the confederates, they were, nevertheless, as much as
they could have reasonably expected to gain at first.

The granting or refusing of the petition had nothing to do with the
primary object of the league. Enough for them at present that it was
once recognized; enough that it was now, as it were, an established
body, which by its power and threats might, if necessary, overawe the
Government. The confederates, therefore, acted quite consistently with
their designs, in contenting themselves with this answer, and referring
the rest to the good pleasure of the King. As, indeed, the whole
pantomime of petitioning had only been invented to cover the more daring
plan of the league, until it should have strength enough to show itself
in its true light; they felt that much more depended on their being able
to continue this mask, and on the favorable reception of their petition,
than on its speedily being granted. In a new memorial, which they
delivered three days after, they pressed for an express testimonial from
the Regent, that they had done no more than their duty, and been guided
simply by their zeal for the service of the King. When the Duchess
evaded a declaration, they even sent a person to repeat this request in
a private interview. "Time alone and their future behavior," she replied
to this person, "would enable her to judge of their designs."

The league had its origin in banquets, and a banquet gave it form and
perfection. On the very day that the second petition was presented,
Brederode entertained the confederates in Kuilemberg house. About three
hundred guests assembled; intoxication gave them courage, and their
audacity rose with their numbers. During the conversation one of their
number happened to remark that he had overheard the Count of Barlaimont
whisper in French to the Regent, who was seen to turn pale on the
delivery of the petitions, that "she need not be afraid of a band of
beggars (_gueux_);" in fact, the majority of them had by their bad
management of their incomes only too well deserved