Such; in brief, was the substance of the long Latin harangue by which it was thought possible to induce those sturdy republicans and Calvinists to renounce their vigorous national existence and to fal on their knees before the most Catholic king.  This was understood to be mediation, statesmanship, diplomacy, in deference to which the world was to pause and the course of events to flow backwards.  Truly, despots and their lackeys were destined to learn some rude lessons from that vigorous little commonwealth in the North Sea, before it should have accomplished its mission on earth.

The States-General dissembled their disgust, however, for it was not desirable to make open enemies of Sigismund or Rudolph.  They refused to accept a copy of the oration, but they promised to send him a categorical answer to it in writing.  Meantime the envoy had the honour of walking about the castle with the stadholder, and, in the course of their promenade, Maurice pointed to the thirty-eight standards taken at the battle of Turnhout, which hung from the cedarn rafters of the ancient banquetting hall.  The mute eloquence of those tattered banners seemed a not illogical reply to the diplomatic Paul’s rhetoric in regard to the hopelessness of a contest with Spanish armies.

Next, Van der Werken—­pensionary of Leyden, and a classical scholar—­ waited upon the envoy with a Latin reply to his harangue, together with a courteous letter for Sigismund.  Both documents were scathing denunciations of the policy pursued by the King of Spain and by all his aiders and abettors, and a distinct but polished refusal to listen to a single word in favour of mediation or of peace.

Paul Dialyn then received a courteous permission to leave the territory of the republic, and was subsequently forwarded in a States’ vessel of war to England.

His reception, about a month later, by Queen Elizabeth is an event on which all English historians are fond of dwelling.  The pedant, on being presented to that imperious and accomplished sovereign, deported himself with the same ludicrous arrogance which had characterised him at the Hague.  His Latin oration, which had been duly drawn up for him by the Chancellor of Sweden, was quite as impertinent as his harangue to the States-General had been, and was delivered with the same conceited air.  The queen replied on the instant in the same tongue.  She was somewhat in a passion, but spoke with majestic moderation?

“Oh, how I have been deceived!” she exclaimed.  “I expected an ambassador, and behold a herald!  In all my life I never heard of such an oration.  Your boldness and unadvised temerity I cannot sufficiently admire.  But if the king your master has given you any such thing in charge—­which I much doubt—­I believe it is because, being but a young man, and lately advanced to the crown, not by ordinary succession of blood, but by election, he understandeth not yet the way of such affairs.”  And so on—­for several minutes longer.