private life. Hoorne viewed the
matter with equal indifference. He had also asked leave to retire,
complaining that his services had been poorly requited by the
government. He was a man of a bold, impatient temper. In a letter to
Philip he told him that it was not the regent, but his majesty, of whom
he complained, for compelling him to undergo the annoyance of dancing
attendance at the court of Brussels![847] He further added, that he had
not discussed his conduct with the duchess, as it was not his way to
treat of affairs of honor with ladies![848] There was certainly no want
of plain-dealing in this communication with majesty.

Count Egmont took the coolness of the regent in a very different manner.
It touched his honor, perhaps his vanity, to be thus excluded from her
confidence. He felt it the more keenly as he was so loyal at heart, and
strongly attached to the Romish faith. On the other hand, his generous
nature was deeply sensible to the wrongs of his countrymen. Thus drawn
in opposite directions, he took the middle course,--by no means the
safest in politics. Under these opposite influences he remained in a
state of dangerous irresolution. His sympathy with the cause of the
confederates lost him the confidence of the government. His loyalty to
the government excluded him from the councils of the confederates. And
thus, though perhaps the most popular man in the Netherlands, there was
no one who possessed less real influence in public affairs.[849]

[Sidenote: THE FEELING AT MADRID.]

The tidings of the tumults in the Netherlands, which travelled with the
usual expedition of evil news, caused as great consternation at the
court of Castile as it had done at that of Brussels. Philip, on
receiving his despatches, burst forth, it is said, into the most violent
fit of anger, and, tearing his beard, he exclaimed, "It shall cost them
dear; by the soul of my father I swear it, it shall cost them
dear!"[850] The anecdote, often repeated, rests on the authority of
Granvelle's correspondent, Morillon. If it be true, it affords a
solitary exception to the habitual self-command--displayed in
circumstances quite as trying--of the "prudent" monarch. The account
given by Hopper, who was with the court at the time, is the more
probable of the two. According to that minister, the king, when he
received the tidings, lay ill of a tertian fever at Segovia. As letter
after letter came to him with particulars of the tumult, he maint