He reproached him, too, with having melted up the silver images of the Mechlin churches, including even the renowned shrine of Saint Rombout, which the Prince of Orange had always respected.

"I don't say how much you took of that plunder for your own share," continued the indignant De Fromont, "for the very children cry it in your ears as you walk the streets.

'Tis known that if God himself had been changed into gold you would have put him in your pocket." This was plain language, but as just as it was plain.

The famous shrine of Saint Rombout--valued at seventy thousand guldens, of silver gilt, and enriched with precious stones--had been held sacred alike by the fanatical iconoclasts and the greedy Spaniards who had successively held the city.

It had now been melted up, and appropriated by Peter Lupin; the Carmelite, and De Bours, the Catholic convert, whose mouths were full of devotion to the ancient Church and of horror for heresy.
The efforts of Orange and of the states were unavailing.