in Luxemburg, and while there, he was to be governed entirely by the
decision of the State Council, expressed by a majority of its members.
Furthermore, and as not the least stinging of these sharp requisitions,
the Queen of England--she who had been the secret ally of Orange, and
whose crown the Governor had secretly meant to appropriate--was to be
included in the treaty.

It could hardly excite surprise that Don John, receiving these insolent
propositions at the very moment in which he heard of the triumphant
entrance into Brussels of the Prince, should be filled with rage and
mortification. Never was champion of the Cross thus braved by infidels
before. The Ghent treaty, according to the Orange interpretation, that
is to say, heresy made legitimate, was to be the law of the land. His
Majesty was to surrender--colors and cannon--to his revolted subjects.
The royal authority was to be superseded by that of a State Council,
appointed by the states-general, at the dictation of the Prince. The
Governor-General himself, brother of his Catholic Majesty, was to sit
quietly with folded arms in Luxemburg, while the arch-heretic and rebel
reigned supreme in Brussels. It was too much to expect that the choleric
soldier would be content with what he could not help regarding as a
dishonorable capitulation. The arrangement seemed to him about as
reasonable as it would have been to invite Sultan Selim to the Escorial,
and to send Philip to reside at Bayonne. He could not but regard the
whole proposition as an insolent declaration of war. He was right. It
was a declaration of war; as much so as if proclaimed by trump of herald.
How could Don John refuse the wager of battle thus haughtily proffered?

Smooth Schetz, Lord of Grobbendonck, and his episcopal colleague, in vain
attempted to calm the Governor's wrath, which now flamed forth, in
defiance of all considerations.