the meanwhile, until they could learn the king's decision, they prayed
that the edicts and the operations of the Inquisition be suspended."
"If," they concluded, "no attention should be paid to their humble
request, they took God, the king, the regent, and all her counsellors to
witness that they had done their part, and were not responsible for any
unfortunate result that might happen."

The following day the confederates, marching in the same order of
procession, but in still greater numbers (Counts Bergen and Kuilemberg
having, in the interim, joined them with their adherents), appeared
before the regent in order to receive her answer. It was written on the
margin of the petition, and was to the effect, "that entirely to suspend
the Inquisition and the edicts, even temporarily, was beyond her powers;
but in compliance with the wishes of the confederates she was ready to
despatch one of the nobles to the king in Spain, and also to support
their petition with all her influence. In the meantime, she would
recommend the inquisitors to administer their office with moderation;
but in return she should expect on the part of the league that they
should abstain from all acts of violence, and undertake nothing to the
prejudice of the Catholic faith." Little as these vague and general
promises satisfied the confederates, they were, nevertheless, as much as
they could have reasonably expected to gain at first. The granting or
refusing of the petition had nothing to do with the primary object of
the league. Enough for them at present that it was once recognized,
enough that it was now, as it were, an established body, which by its
power and threats might, if necessary, overawe the government. The
confederates, therefore, acted quite consistently with their designs,
in contenting themselves with this answer, and referring the rest to
the good pleasure of the king. As, indeed, the whole pantomime of
petitioning had only been invented to cover the more daring plan of the