--in order to counteract the patriotic endeavors of the Prince;
but neither the ruffianism of John nor the libels of Peter were destined
upon this occasion to be successful. William the Silent treated the
slanders of the scolding monk with dignified contempt. "Having been
informed," said he to the magistrates of Ghent, "that Master Peter
Dathenns has been denouncing me as a man without religion or fidelity,
and full of ambition, with other propositions hardly becoming his cloth;
I do not think it worth while to answer more at this time than that I
willingly refer myself to the judgment of all who know me."

The Prince came to Ghent, great as had been the efforts of Imbize and his
partisans to prevent his coming. His presence was like magic. The
demagogue and his whole flock vanished like unclean birds at the first
rays of the sun. Imbize dared not look the Father of his country in the
face. Orange rebuked the populace in the strong and indignant language
that public and private virtue, energy, and a high purpose enabled such a
leader of the people to use. He at once set aside the board of
eighteen--the Grecian-Roman-Genevese establishment of Imbize--and
remained in the city until the regular election, in conformity with the
privileges, had taken place. Imbize, who had shrunk at his approach, was
meantime discovered by his own companions. He had stolen forth secretly
on the night before the Prince's arrival, and was found cowering in the
cabin of a vessel, half dead with fear, by an ale-house keeper who had
been his warm partisan. "No Skulking," cried the honest friend; seizing
the tribune of the people by the shoulder; "no sailing away in the
night-time. You have got us all into this bog, and must come back, and
abide the issue with your supporters."

In this collapsed state was the windy demagogue, who had filled half
Flanders with his sound and fury, conveyed before the patriot Prince. He
met with grave and bitter rebukes, but felt sufficiently relieved when
allowed to depart unharmed. Judging of his probable doom by the usual
practice of himself and his fellows in similar cases, he had anticipated
nothing short of the gibbet. That punishment, however, was to be
inflicted at a later period, by other hands, and not until he had added
treason to his country and a shameless recantation of all his violent
professions in favor of civil and religious liberty to the list of his
crimes. On the present occasion he was permitte