holy Scriptures." Nevertheless, these institutions continued to pursue
their opposition to the course of the government. Their uncouth gambols,
their awkward but stunning blows rendered daily service to the cause of
religious freedom. Upon the newly-appointed bishops they poured out an
endless succession of rhymes and rebuses, epigrams, caricatures and
extravaganzas. Poems were pasted upon the walls of every house, and
passed from hand to hand. Farces were enacted in every street; the
odious ecclesiastics figuring as the principal buffoons. These
representations gave so much offence, that renewed edicts were issued to
suppress them. The prohibition was resisted, and even ridiculed in many
provinces, particularly in Holland. The tyranny which was able to drown
a nation in blood and tears, was powerless to prevent them from laughing
most bitterly at their oppressors. The tanner, Cleon, was never
belabored more soundly by the wits of Athens, than the prelate by these
Flemish "rhetoricians." With infinitely less Attic salt, but with as
much heartiness as Aristophanes could have done, the popular rhymers
gave the minister ample opportunity to understand the position which he
occupied in the Netherlands. One day a petitioner placed a paper in his
hand and vanished. It contained some scurrilous verses upon himself,
together with a caricature of his person. In this he was represented as
a hen seated upon a pile of eggs, out of which he was hatching a brood of
bishops. Some of these were clipping the shell, some thrusting forth an
arm, some a leg, while others were running about with mitres on their
heads, all bearing whimsical resemblance to various prelates who had been
newly-appointed. Above the Cardinal's head the Devil was represented
hovering, with these words issuing from his mouth: "This is my beloved
Son, listen to him, my people."

There was another lampoon of a similar nature, which was so well
executed, that it especially excited Granvelle's anger. It was a rhymed