etherlands was admitted to the government, would have been
repudiated as revolutionary and republican by the monarchs of France or
England, if an attempt had been made to apply it to their own realms, for
the ancient charters--which in reality constituted a republican form of
government--had all been re-established by the agreement with Anjou. The
first-fruits of the ban now began to display themselves. Sunday, 18th of
March, 1582, was the birthday of the Duke of Anjou, and a great festival
had been arranged, accordingly, for the evening, at the palace of Saint
Michael, the Prince of Orange as well as all the great French lords being
of course invited. The Prince dined, as usual, at his house in the
neighbourhood of the citadel, in company with the Counts Hohenlo and
Laval, and the two distinguished French commissioners, Bonnivet and Des
Pruneaux. Young Maurice of Nassau, and two nephews of the Prince, sons of
his brother John, were also present at table. During dinner the
conversation was animated, many stories being related of the cruelties
which had been practised by the Spaniards in the provinces. On rising
from the table, Orange led the way from the dining room to his own
apartments, showing the noblemen in his company as he passed along, a
piece of tapestry upon which some Spanish soldiers were represented. At
this moment, as he stood upon the threshold of the ante-chamber, a youth
of small stature, vulgar mien, and pale dark complexion, appeared from
among the servants and offered him a petition. He took the paper, and as
he did so, the stranger suddenly drew a pistol and discharged it at the
head of the Prince. The ball entered the neck under the right ear, passed
through the roof of the mouth, and came out under the left jaw-bone,
carrying with it two teeth. The pistol had been held so near, that the
hair and beard of the Prince were set on fire by the discharge. He
remained standing, but blinded, stunned, and for a moment entirely
ignorant of what had occurred. As he afterwards observed, he thought
perhaps that a part of the house had suddenly fallen. Finding very soon
that his hair and beard were burning, he comprehended what had occurred;
and called out quickly, "Do not kill him--I forgive him my death!" and
turning to the French noblemen present, he added, "Alas! what a faithful
servant does his Highness lose in me!"

These were his first words, spoken when, as all believed, he had been
mortally wounded. The