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<h2> CHAPTER VII——THAT THE INTENTION IS JUDGE OF OUR ACTIONS </h2>
<p>'Tis a saying, "That death discharges us of all our obligations." I know
some who have taken it in another sense. Henry VII., King of England,
articled with Don Philip, son to Maximilian the emperor, or (to place him
more honourably) father to the Emperor Charles V., that the said Philip
should deliver up the Duke of Suffolk of the White Rose, his enemy, who
was fled into the Low Countries, into his hands; which Philip accordingly
did, but upon condition, nevertheless, that Henry should attempt nothing
against the life of the said Duke; but coming to die, the king in his last
will commanded his son to put him to death immediately after his decease.
And lately, in the tragedy that the Duke of Alva presented to us in the
persons of the Counts Horn and Egmont at Brussels, —[Decapitated 4th
June 1568]—there were very remarkable passages, and one amongst the
rest, that Count Egmont (upon the security of whose word and faith Count
Horn had come and surrendered himself to the Duke of Alva) earnestly
entreated that he might first mount the scaffold, to the end that death
might disengage him from the obligation he had passed to the other. In
which case, methinks, death did not acquit the former of his promise, and
that the second was discharged from it without dying. We cannot be bound
beyond what we are able to perform, by reason that effect and performance
are not at all in our power, and that, indeed, we are masters of nothing
but the will, in which, by necessity, all the rules and whole duty of
mankind are founded and established: therefore Count Egmont, conceiving
his soul and will indebted to his promise, although he had not the power
to make it good, had doubtless been absolved of his duty, even though he
had outlived the other; but the King of England wilfully and premeditately
breaking his faith, was no more to be excused for deferring the execution
of his infidelity till after his death than the mason in Herodotus, who
having inviolably, during the time of his life, kept the secret of the
treasure of the King of Egypt, his master, at his death discovered it to
his children.—[Herod., ii. 121.]</p>
<p>I have taken notice of several in my time, who, convicted by their
consciences of unjustly detaining the goods of another, have endeavoured
to make amends by their will, and after their decease; but they had as
good do nothing, as either in taking so much time in so pressing an
affair, or in going about to remedy a wrong with so little dissatisfaction
or injury to themselves. They owe, over and above, something of their own;
and by how much their payment is more strict and incommodious to
themselves, by so much is their restitution more just meritorious.
Penitency requires penalty; but they yet do worse than these, who reserve
the animosity against their neighbour to the last gasp, having concealed
it during their life; wherein they manifest little regard of their own
honour, irritating the party offended in their memory; and less to their
the power, even out of to make their malice die with them, but extending
the life of their hatred even beyond their own. Unjust judges, who defer
judgment to a time wherein they can have no knowledge of the cause! For my
part, I shall take care, if I can, that my death discover nothing that my
life has not first and openly declared.</p>
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