Young Maurice was placed in a very painful position. He liked not to be
"strangled in the great Queen's embrace;" but he felt most keenly the
necessity of her friendship, and the importance to both countries of a
close alliance. It was impossible for him, however, to tolerate the
rebellion of Sonoy, although Sonoy was encouraged by Elizabeth, or to fly
in the face of Barneveld, although Barneveld was detested by Leicester.
So with much firmness and courtesy, notwithstanding the extravagant
pictures painted by Willoughby, he suppressed mutiny in Holland, while
avowing the most chivalrous attachment to the sovereign of England.

Her Majesty expressed her surprise and her discontent, that,
notwithstanding his expressions of devotion to herself, he should
thus deal with Sonoy, whose only crime was an equal devotion. "If you
do not behave with more moderation in future," she said, "you may believe
that we are not a princess of so little courage as not to know how to
lend a helping hand to those who are unjustly oppressed. We should be
sorry if we had cause to be disgusted with your actions, and if we were
compelled to make you a stranger to the ancient good affection which we
bore to your late father, and have continued towards yourself."

But Maurice maintained a dignified attitude, worthy of his great father's
name. He was not the man to crouch like Leicester, when he could no
longer refresh himself in the "shadow of the Queen's golden beams,"
important as he knew her friendship to be to himself and his country.
So he defended himself in a manly letter to the privy council against the
censures of Elizabeth. He avowed his displeasure, that, within his own
jurisdiction, Sonoy should give a special oath of obedience to Leicester;
a thing never done before in the country, and entirely illegal. It would
not even be tolerated in England, he said, if a private gentleman should