Quentin Durward

by Walter Scott

  CHAPTER VIII: THE ENVOY

  Be thou as lightning in the eyes of France; For ere thou canst report I will be there. The thunder of my cannon shall be heard-- So, hence! be thou the trumpet of our wrath.

  KING JOHN

  Had sloth been a temptation by which Durward was easily beset, the noisewith which the caserne of the guards resounded after the first tollof primes, had certainly banished the siren from his couch; but thediscipline of his father's tower, and of the convent of Aberbrothick,had taught him to start with the dawn; and he did on his clothes gaily,amid the sounding of bugles and the clash of armour, which announced thechange of the vigilant guards--some of whom were returning to barracksafter their nightly duty, whilst some were marching out to that of themorning--and others, again, amongst whom was his uncle, were arming forimmediate attendance upon the person of Louis. Quentin Durward soonput on, with the feelings of so young a man on such an occasion, thesplendid dress and arms appertaining to his new situation; and hisuncle, who looked with great accuracy and interest to see that he wascompletely fitted out in every respect, did not conceal his satisfactionat the improvement which had been thus made in his nephew's appearance.

  "If thou dost prove as faithful and bold as thou art well favoured, Ishall have in thee one of the handsomest and best esquires in the Guard,which cannot but be an honour to thy mother's family. Follow me to thepresence chamber; and see thou keep close at my shoulder."

  So saying, he took up a partisan, large, weighty, and beautifully inlaidand ornamented, and directing his nephew to assume a lighter weapon ofa similar description, they proceeded to the inner court of the palace,where their comrades, who were to form the guard of the interiorapartments, were already drawn up and under arms--the squires eachstanding behind their masters, to whom they thus formed a second rank.Here were also in attendance many yeomen prickers, with gallant horsesand noble dogs, on which Quentin looked with such inquisitive delightthat his uncle was obliged more than once to remind him that the animalswere not there for his private amusement, but for the King's, who hada strong passion for the chase, one of the few inclinations which heindulged even when coming in competition with his course of policy;being so strict a protector of the game in the royal forests that it wascurrently said you might kill a man with greater impunity than a stag.

  On a signal given, the Guards were put into motion by the command ofLe Balafre, who acted as officer upon the occasion; and, after someminutiae of word and signal, which all served to show the extreme andpunctilious jealousy with which their duty was performed, they marchedinto the hall of audience where the King was immediately expected.

  New as Quentin was to scenes of splendour, the effect of that which wasnow before him rather disappointed the expectations which he had formedof the brilliancy of a court. There were household officers, indeed,richly attired; there were guards gallantly armed, and there weredomestics of various degrees. But he saw none of the ancient counsellorsof the kingdom, none of the high officers of the crown, heard none ofthe names which in those days sounded an alarum to chivalry; saw noneeither of those generals or leaders, who, possessed of the full prime ofmanhood, were the strength of France, or of the more youthful and fierynobles, those early aspirants after honour, who were her pride. Thejealous habits, the reserved manners, the deep and artful policy of theKing, had estranged this splendid circle from the throne, and they wereonly called around it upon certain stated and formal occasions, whenthey went reluctantly, and returned joyfully, as the animals in thefable are supposed to have approached and left the den of the lion.

  The very few persons who seemed to be there in the character ofcounsellors were mean looking men, whose countenances sometimesexpressed sagacity, but whose manners showed they were called into asphere for which their previous education and habits had qualified thembut indifferently. One or two persons, however, did appear to Durwardto possess a more noble mien, and the strictness of the present duty wasnot such as to prevent his uncle's communicating the names of those whomhe thus distinguished.

  With the Lord Crawford, who was in attendance, dressed in the richhabit of his office, and holding a leading staff of silver in his hand,Quentin, as well as the reader, was already acquainted. Among others,who seemed of quality, the most remarkable was the Count de Dunois,the son of that celebrated Dunois, known by the name of the Bastard ofOrleans, who, fighting under the banner of Jeanne d'Arc, acted such adistinguished part in liberating France from the English yoke. His sonwell supported the high renown which had descended to him from suchan honoured source; and, notwithstanding his connexion with the royalfamily, and his hereditary popularity both with the nobles and thepeople, Dunois had, upon all occasions, manifested such an open, frankloyalty of character that he seemed to have escaped all suspicion, evenon the part of the jealous Louis, who loved to see him near his person,and sometimes even called him to his councils. Although accountedcomplete in all the exercises of chivalry, and possessed of much of thecharacter of what was then termed a perfect knight, the person of theCount was far from being a model of romantic beauty. He was under thecommon size, though very strongly built, and his legs rather curvedoutwards, into that make which is more convenient for horseback, thanelegant in a pedestrian. His shoulders were broad, his hair black, hiscomplexion swarthy, his arms remarkably long and nervous. The featuresof his countenance were irregular, even to ugliness; yet, after all,there was an air of conscious worth and nobility about the Count deDunois, which stamped, at the first glance, the character of the highborn nobleman and the undaunted soldier. His mien was bold and upright,his step free and manly, and the harshness of his countenance wasdignified by a glance like an eagle, and a frown like a lion. His dresswas a hunting suit, rather sumptuous than gay, and he acted on mostoccasions as Grand Huntsman, though we are not inclined to believe thathe actually held the office.

  Upon the arm of his relation Dunois, walking with a step so slow andmelancholy that he seemed to rest on his kinsman and supporter, cameLouis Duke of Orleans, the first prince of the Blood Royal (afterwardsKing, by the name of Louis XII), and to whom the guards and attendantsrendered their homage as such. The jealously watched object of Louis'ssuspicions, this Prince, who, failing the King's offspring, was heir tothe kingdom, was not suffered to absent himself from Court, and,while residing there, was alike denied employment and countenance.The dejection which his degraded and almost captive state naturallyimpressed on the deportment of this unfortunate Prince, was at thismoment greatly increased by his consciousness that the King meditated,with respect to him, one of the most cruel and unjust actions which atyrant could commit, by compelling him to give his hand to the PrincessJoan of France, the younger daughter of Louis, to whom he had beencontracted in infancy, but whose deformed person rendered the insistingupon such an agreement an act of abominable rigour.

  The exterior of this unhappy Prince was in no respect distinguishedby personal advantages; and in mind, he was of a gentle, mild andbeneficent disposition, qualities which were visible even throughthe veil of extreme dejection with which his natural character was atpresent obscured. Quentin observed that the Duke studiously avoided evenlooking at the Royal Guards, and when he returned their salute, that hekept his eyes bent on the ground, as if he feared the King's jealousymight have construed the gesture of ordinary courtesy as arising fromthe purpose of establishing a separate and personal interest among them.

  Very different was the conduct of the proud Cardinal and Prelate, Johnof Balue, the favourite minister of Louis for the time, whose riseand character bore as close a resemblance to that of Wolsey, as thedifference betwixt the crafty and politic Louis and the headlong andrash Henry VIII of England would permit. The former had raised hisminister from the lowest rank, to the dignity, or at least to theemoluments, of Grand Almoner of France, loaded him with benefices, andobtained for him the hat of a cardinal; and although he was too cautiousto repose in the ambitious Balue the unbounded power and trust whichHenry placed in Wols
ey, yet he was more influenced by him than by anyother of his avowed counsellors. The Cardinal, accordingly, had notescaped the error incidental to those who are suddenly raised to powerfrom an obscure situation, for he entertained a strong persuasion,dazzled doubtlessly by the suddenness of his elevation, that hiscapacity was equal to intermeddling with affairs of every kind, eventhose most foreign to his profession and studies. Tall and ungainlyin his person, he affected gallantry and admiration of the fair sex,although his manners rendered his pretensions absurd, and his professionmarked them as indecorous. Some male or female flatterer had, in evilhour, possessed him with the idea that there was much beauty of contourin a pair of huge, substantial legs, which he had derived from hisfather, a car man of Limoges--or, according to other authorities, amiller of Verdun, and with this idea he had become so infatuated that healways had his cardinal's robes a little looped up on one side, that thesturdy proportion of his limbs might not escape observation. As he sweptthrough the stately apartment in his crimson dress and rich cope, hestopped repeatedly to look at the arms and appointments of the cavalierson guard, asked them several questions in an authoritative tone, andtook upon him to censure some of them for what he termed irregularitiesof discipline, in language to which these experienced soldiers daredno reply, although it was plain they listened to it with impatience andwith contempt.

  [Wolsey (1471-1530): at one time the chief favourite of Henry VIII. Hewas raised from obscurity by that sovereign to be Archbishop of York,Lord Chancellor of England, and Cardinal. As legate of the Pope, hegained the ill will of Henry by his failure to secure that king'sdivorce. He was deprived of his offices, his property was confiscated tothe crown, and in 1530 he was arrested for high treason, but died on hisway to trial.]

  "Is the King aware," said Dunois to the Cardinal, "that the BurgundianEnvoy is peremptory in demanding an audience?"

  "He is," answered the Cardinal; "and here, as I think, comes the allsufficient Oliver Dain, to let us know the royal pleasure."

  As he spoke, a remarkable person, who then divided the favour of Louiswith the proud Cardinal himself, entered from the inner apartment, butwithout any of that important and consequential demeanour which markedthe full blown dignity of the churchman. On the contrary, this was alittle, pale, meagre man, whose black silk jerkin and hose, withouteither coat, cloak, or cassock, formed a dress ill qualified to set offto advantage a very ordinary person. He carried a silver basin in hishand, and a napkin flung over his arm indicated his menial capacity. Hisvisage was penetrating and quick, although he endeavoured to banish suchexpression from his features by keeping his eyes fixed on the ground,while, with the stealthy and quiet pace of a cat, he seemed modestlyrather to glide than to walk through the apartment. But though modestymay easily obscure worth, it cannot hide court favour; and all attemptsto steal unperceived through the presence chamber were vain, on thepart of one known to have such possession of the King's ear as had beenattained by his celebrated barber and groom of the chamber, Oliverle Dain, called sometimes Oliver le Mauvais, and sometimes Oliver leDiable, epithets derived from the unscrupulous cunning with whichhe assisted in the execution of the schemes of his master's tortuouspolicy. At present he spoke earnestly for a few moments with the Countde Dunois, who instantly left the chamber, while the tonsor glidedquietly back towards the royal apartment whence he had issued, everyone giving place to him; which civility he only acknowledged by the mosthumble inclination of the body, excepting in a very few instances,where he made one or two persons the subject of envy to all the othercourtiers, by whispering a single word in their ear; and at the sametime muttering something of the duties of his place, he escaped fromtheir replies as well as from the eager solicitations of those whowished to attract his notice. Ludovic Lesly had the good fortune to beone of the individuals who, on the present occasion, was favoured byOliver with a single word, to assure him that his matter was fortunatelyterminated.

  Presently afterwards he had another proof of the same agreeable tidings;for Quentin's old acquaintance, Tristan l'Hermite, the Provost Marshalof the royal household, entered the apartment, and came straight to theplace where Balafre was posted. This formidable officer's uniform, whichwas very rich, had only the effect of making his sinister countenanceand bad mien more strikingly remarkable, and the tone, which he meantfor conciliatory, was like nothing so much as the growling of a bear.The import of his words, however, was more amicable than the voice inwhich they were pronounced. He regretted the mistake which had fallenbetween them on the preceding day, and observed it was owing to theSieur Le Balafre's nephew's not wearing the uniform of his corps, orannouncing himself as belonging to it, which had led him into the errorfor which he now asked forgiveness.

  Ludovic Lesly made the necessary reply, and as soon as Tristan hadturned away, observed to his nephew that they had now the distinctionof having a mortal enemy from henceforward in the person of this dreadedofficer.

  "But we are above his volee [brood, rank, class]--a soldier," said he,"who does his duty, may laugh at the Provost Marshal."

  Quentin could not help being of his uncle's opinion, for, as Tristanparted from them, it was with the look of angry defiance which the bearcasts upon the hunter whose spear has wounded him. Indeed, even whenless strongly moved, the sullen eye of this official expressed amalevolence of purpose which made men shudder to meet his glance; andthe thrill of the young Scot was the deeper and more abhorrent, that heseemed to himself still to feel on his shoulders the grasp of the twodeath doing functionaries of this fatal officer.

  Meanwhile, Oliver, after he had prowled around the room in the stealthymanner which we have endeavoured to describe--all, even the highestofficers making way for him, and loading him with their ceremoniousattentions, which his modesty seemed desirous to avoid--again enteredthe inner apartment, the doors of which were presently thrown open, andKing Louis entered the presence chamber.

  Quentin, like all others, turned his eyes upon him; and started sosuddenly that he almost dropped his weapon, when he recognised in theKing of France that silk merchant, Maitre Pierre, who had been thecompanion of his morning walk. Singular suspicions respecting the realrank of this person had at different times crossed his thoughts; butthis, the proved reality, was wilder than his wildest conjecture.

  The stern look of his uncle, offended at this breach of the decorum ofhis office, recalled him to himself; but not a little was he astonishedwhen the King, whose quick eye had at once discovered him, walkedstraight to the place where he was posted, without taking notice of anyone else.

  "So;" he said, "young man, I am told you have been brawling on yourfirst arrival in Touraine; but I pardon you, as it was chiefly the faultof a foolish old merchant, who thought your Caledonian blood required tobe heated in the morning with Vin de Beaulne. If I can find him, I willmake him an example to those who debauch my Guards.--Balafre," he added,speaking to Lesly, "your kinsman is a fair youth, though a fiery. Welove to cherish such spirits, and mean to make more than ever we did ofthe brave men who are around us. Let the year, day, hour, and minute ofyour nephew's birth be written down and given to Oliver Dain."

  Le Balafre bowed to the ground, and re-assumed his erect militaryposition, as one who would show by his demeanour his promptitude to actin the King's quarrel or defence. Quentin, in the meantime, recoveredfrom his first surprise, studied the King's appearance more attentively,and was surprised to find how differently he now construed hisdeportment and features than he had done at their first interview.

  These were not much changed in exterior, for Louis, always a scorner ofoutward show, wore, on the present occasion, an old dark blue huntingdress, not much better than the plain burgher suit of the preceding day,and garnished with a huge rosary of ebony which had been sent to him byno less a personage than the Grand Seignior, with an attestation thatit had been used by a Coptic hermit on Mount Lebanon, a personage ofprofound sanctity. And instead of his cap with a single image, he nowwore a hat, the band of which was garnished with at least
a dozen oflittle paltry figures of saints stamped in lead. But those eyes, which,according to Quentin's former impression, only twinkled with the loveof gain, had, now that they were known to be the property of an able andpowerful monarch, a piercing and majestic glance; and those wrinkleson the brow, which he had supposed were formed during a long series ofpetty schemes of commerce, seemed now the furrows which sagacity hadworn while toiling in meditation upon the fate of nations.

  Presently after the King's appearance, the Princesses of France, withthe ladies of their suite, entered the apartment. With the eldest,afterwards married to Peter of Bourbon, and known in French history bythe name of the Lady of Beaujeu, our story has but little to do. She wastall, and rather handsome, possessed eloquence, talent, and much of herfather's sagacity, who reposed great confidence in her, and loved her aswell perhaps as he loved any one.

  The younger sister, the unfortunate Joan, the destined bride of the Dukeof Orleans, advanced timidly by the side of her sister, conscious of atotal want of those external qualities which women are most desirous ofpossessing, or being thought to possess. She was pale, thin, and sicklyin her complexion; her shape visibly bent to one side, and her gait wasso unequal that she might be called lame. A fine set of teeth, and eyeswhich were expressive of melancholy, softness, and resignation, witha quantity of light brown locks, were the only redeeming points whichflattery itself could have dared to number, to counteract the generalhomeliness of her face and figure. To complete the picture, it was easyto remark, from the Princess's negligence in dress and the timidity ofher manner, that she had an unusual and distressing consciousness ofher own plainness of appearance, and did not dare to make any of thoseattempts to mend by manners or by art what nature had left amiss, or inany other way to exert a power of pleasing. The King (who loved her not)stepped hastily to her as she entered.

  "How now," he said, "our world contemning daughter--Are you robed for ahunting party, or for the convent, this morning? Speak--answer."

  "For which your highness pleases, sire," said the Princess, scarceraising her voice above her breath.

  "Ay, doubtless, you would persuade me it is your desire to quit theCourt, Joan, and renounce the world and its vanities.--Ha! maiden,wouldst thou have it thought that we, the first born of Holy Church,would refuse our daughter to Heaven?--Our Lady and Saint Martin forbidwe should refuse the offering, were it worthy of the altar, or were thyvocation in truth thitherward!"

  So saying, the King crossed himself devoutly, looking in the meantime,as appeared to Quentin, very like a cunning vassal, who was depreciatingthe merit of something which he was desirous to keep to himself, inorder that he might stand excused for not offering it to his chief orsuperior.

  "Dares he thus play the hypocrite with Heaven," thought Durward, "andsport with God and the Saints, as he may safely do with men, who darenot search his nature too closely?"

  Louis meantime resumed, after a moment's mental devotion, "No, fairdaughter, I and another know your real mind better. Ha! fair cousin ofOrleans, do we not? Approach, fair sir, and lead this devoted vestal ofours to her horse."

  Orleans started when the King spoke and hastened to obey him; but withsuch precipitation of step, and confusion, that Louis called out, "Nay,cousin, rein your gallantry, and look before you. Why, what a headlongmatter a gallant's haste is on some occasions! You had well nigh takenAnne's hand instead of her sister's.--Sir, must I give Joan's to youmyself?"

  The unhappy Prince looked up, and shuddered like a child, when forcedto touch something at which it has instinctive horror--then making aneffort, took the hand which the Princess neither gave nor yet withheld.As they stood, her cold, damp fingers enclosed in his trembling hand,with their eyes looking on the ground, it would have been difficultto say which of these two youthful beings was rendered more utterlymiserable--the Duke, who felt himself fettered to the object of hisaversion by bonds which he durst not tear asunder, or the unfortunateyoung woman, who too plainly saw that she was an object of abhorrence tohim, to gain whose kindness she would willingly have died.

  "And now to horse, gentlemen and ladies--we will ourselves lead forthour daughter of Beaujeu," said the King; "and God's blessing and SaintHubert's be on our morning's sport!"

  "I am, I fear, doomed to interrupt it, Sire," said the Comte de Dunois;"the Burgundian Envoy is before the gates of the Castle and demands anaudience."

  "Demands an audience, Dunois?" replied the King. "Did you not answerhim, as we sent you word by Oliver, that we were not at leisure to seehim today,--and that tomorrow was the festival of Saint Martin, which,please Heaven, we would disturb by no earthly thoughts--and that on thesucceeding day we were designed for Amboise--but that we would not failto appoint him as early an audience, when we returned, as our pressingaffairs would permit."

  "All this I said," answered Dunois, "but yet, Sire--"

  "Pasques dieu! man, what is it that thus sticks in thy throat?" said theKing. "This Burgundian's terms must have been hard of digestion."

  "Had not my duty, your Grace's commands, and his character as an envoy,restrained me," said Dunois, "he should have tried to digest themhimself; for, by our Lady of Orleans, I had more mind to have made himeat his own words, than to have brought them to your Majesty."

  "Body of me," said the King, "it is strange that thou, one of the mostimpatient fellows alive, should have so little sympathy with the likeinfirmity in our blunt and fiery cousin, Charles of Burgundy. Why, man,I mind his blustering messages no more than the towers of this Castleregard the whistling of the northeast wind, which comes from Flanders,as well as this brawling Envoy."

  "Know then, Sire," replied Dunois, "that the Count of Crevecoeur tarriesbelow, with his retinue of pursuivants and trumpets, and says, thatsince your Majesty refuses him the audience which his master hasinstructed him to demand, upon matters of most pressing concern, he willremain there till midnight, and accost your Majesty at whatever hour youare pleased to issue from your Castle, whether for business, exercise,or devotion; and that no consideration, except the use of absoluteforce, shall compel him to desist from this."

  "He is a fool," said the King, with much composure. "Does the hotheaded Hainaulter think it any penance for a man of sense to remain fortwenty-four hours quiet within the walls of his Castle, when he hath theaffairs of a kingdom to occupy him? These impatient coxcombs thinkthat all men, like themselves, are miserable, save when in saddle andstirrup. Let the dogs be put up, and well looked to, gentle Dunois.--Wewill hold council today, instead of hunting."

  "My Liege," answered Dunois, "you will not thus rid yourself ofCrevecoeur; for his master's instructions are, that if he hath not thisaudience which he demands, he shall nail his gauntlet to the palisadebefore the Castle in token of mortal defiance on the part of his master,shall renounce the Duke's fealty to France, and declare instant war."

  "Ay," said Louis without any perceptible alteration of voice, butfrowning until his piercing dark eyes became almost invisible underhis shaggy eyebrows, "is it even so? will our ancient vassal prove somasterful--our dear cousin treat us thus unkindly?--Nay, then, Dunois,we must unfold the Oriflamme, and cry Dennis Montjoye!"

  [Montjoie St. Denis, a former war cry of the French soldiers. SaintDenis was a patron saint of France who suffered martyrdom in the thirdcentury. Montjoie (mont and joie) may be the name of the hill where thesaint met his death; or it may signify that any such place is a "hill ofjoy."]

  "Marry and amen, and in a most happy hour!" said the martial Dunois; andthe guards in the hall, unable to resist the same impulse, stirred eachupon his post, so as to produce a low but distinct sound of clashingarms. The King cast his eye proudly round, and, for a moment, thoughtand looked like his heroic father.

  But the excitement of the moment presently gave way to the host ofpolitical considerations, which, at that conjuncture, rendered an openbreach with Burgundy so peculiarly perilous. Edward IV, a brave andvictorious king, who had in his own person fought thirty battles, wasnow established on th
e throne of England, was brother to the Duchess ofBurgundy, and, it might well be supposed, waited but a rupture betweenhis near connexion and Louis, to carry into France, through the everopen gate of Calais, those arms which had been triumphant in the Englishcivil wars, and to obliterate the recollection of internal dissensionsby that most popular of all occupations amongst the English, an invasionof France. To this consideration was added the uncertain faith of theDuke of Bretagne, and other weighty subjects of reflection. So that,after a deep pause, when Louis again spoke, although in the same tone,it was with an altered spirit. "But God forbid," he said, "that aughtless than necessity should make us, the Most Christian' King, give causeto the effusion of Christian blood, if anything short of dishonour mayavert such a calamity. We tender our subjects' safety dearer than theruffle which our own dignity may receive from the rude breath of amalapert ambassador, who hath perhaps exceeded the errand with which hewas charged.--Admit the Envoy of Burgundy to our presence."

  "Beati pacifici, [blessed are the peace makers]" said the CardinalBalue.

  "True; and your Eminence knoweth that they who humble themselves shallbe exalted," added the King.

  The Cardinal spoke an Amen, to which few assented, for even the palecheek of Orleans kindled with shame, and Balafre suppressed his feelingsso little, as to let the butt end of his partisan fall heavily on thefloor--a movement of impatience for which he underwent a bitter reprooffrom the Cardinal, with a lecture on the mode of handling his armswhen in presence of the Sovereign. The King himself seemed unusuallyembarrassed at the silence around him.

  "You are pensive, Dunois," he said. "You disapprove of our giving way tothis hot headed Envoy."

  "By no means,"' said Dunois; "I meddle not with matters beyond mysphere. I was thinking of asking a boon of your Majesty."

  "A boon, Dunois--what is it? You are an unfrequent suitor, and may counton our favour."

  "I would, then, your Majesty would send me to Evreux to regulate theclergy," said Dunois, with military frankness.

  "That were indeed beyond thy sphere," replied the King, smiling.

  "I might order priests as well," replied the Count, "as my Lord Bishopof Evreux, or my Lord Cardinal, if he likes the title better, canexercise the soldiers of your Majesty's guard."

  The King smiled again, and more mysteriously, while he whisperedDunois, "The time may come when you and I will regulate the prieststogether.--But this is for the present a good conceited animal of aBishop. Ah, Dunois! Rome, Rome puts him and other burdens upon us.--Butpatience, cousin, and shuffle the cards, till our hand is a strongerone."

  [Dr. Dryasdust here remarks that cards, said to have been invented in apreceding reign, for the amusement of Charles V during the intervalsof his mental disorder, seem speedily to have become common among thecourtiers.... The alleged origin of the invention of cards produced oneof the shrewdest replies I have ever heard given in evidence. It wasmade by the late Dr. Gregory of Edinburgh to a counsel of great eminenceat the Scottish bar. The Doctor's testimony went to prove the insanityof the party whose mental capacity was the point at issue. On a crossinterrogation, he admitted that the person in question played admirablyat whist. "And do you seriously say, doctor," said the learned counsel,"that a person having a superior capacity for a game so difficult,and which requires in a preeminent degree, memory, judgment, andcombination, can be at the same time deranged in his understanding?"--"Iam no card player," said the doctor, with great address, "but I haveread in history that cards were invented for the amusement of an insaneking." The consequences of this reply were decisive. S.]

  The flourish of trumpets in the courtyard now announced the arrivalof the Burgundian nobleman. All in the presence chamber made haste toarrange themselves according to their proper places of precedence, theKing and his daughters remaining in the centre of the assembly.

  The Count of Crevecoeur, a renowned and undaunted warrior, enteredthe apartment; and, contrary to the usage among the envoys of friendlypowers, he appeared all armed, excepting his head, in a gorgeous suitof the most superb Milan armour, made of steel, inlaid and embossed withgold, which was wrought into the fantastic taste called the Arabesque.Around his neck and over his polished cuirass, hung his master's orderof the Golden Fleece, one of the most honoured associations of chivalrythen known in Christendom. A handsome page bore his helmet behind him, aherald preceded him, bearing his letters of credence which he offered onhis knee to the King; while the ambassador himself paused in the midstof the hall, as if to give all present time to admire his lofty look,commanding stature, and undaunted composure of countenance and manner.The rest of his attendants waited in the antechamber, or courtyard.

  [The military order of the Golden Fleece was instituted by Philip theGood, Duke of Burgundy, in the year 1429, the King of Spain being grandmaster of the order, as Duke of Burgundy.]

  "Approach, Seignior Count de Crevecoeur," said Louis, after a moment'sglance at his commission; "we need not our cousin's letters of credence,either to introduce to us a warrior so well known, or to assure us ofyour highly deserved credit with your master. We trust that your fairpartner, who shares some of our ancestral blood, is in good health. Hadyou brought her in your hand, Seignior Count, we might have thought youwore your armour, on this unwonted occasion, to maintain the superiorityof her charms against the amorous chivalry of France. As it is, wecannot guess the reason of this complete panoply."

  "Sire," replied the ambassador, "the Count of Crevecoeur must lamenthis misfortune, and entreat your forgiveness, that he cannot, on thisoccasion, reply with such humble deference as is due to the royalcourtesy with which your Majesty has honoured him. But, although it isonly the voice of Philip Crevecoeur de Cordes which speaks, the wordswhich he utters must be those of his gracious Lord and Sovereign, theDuke of Burgundy."

  "And what has Crevecoeur to say in the words of Burgundy?" said Louis,with an assumption of sufficient dignity. "Yet hold--remember, thatin this presence, Philip Crevecoeur de Cordes speaks to him who is hisSovereign's Sovereign."

  Crevecoeur bowed, and then spoke aloud: "King of France, the mighty Dukeof Burgundy once more sends you a written schedule of the wrongs andoppressions committed on his frontiers by your Majesty's garrisonsand officers; and the first point of inquiry is, whether it is yourMajesty's purpose to make him amends for these injuries?"

  The King, looking slightly at the memorial which the herald deliveredto him upon his knee, said, "These matters have been already long beforeour Council. Of the injuries complained of, some are in requital ofthose sustained by my subjects, some are affirmed without any proof,some have been retaliated by the Duke's garrisons and soldiers; and ifthere remain any which fall under none of those predicaments, we arenot, as a Christian prince, averse to make satisfaction for wrongsactually sustained by our neighbour, though committed not only withoutour countenance, but against our express order."'

  "I will convey your Majesty's answer," said the ambassador, "to my mostgracious master; yet, let me say, that, as it is in no degree differentfrom the evasive replies which have already been returned to hisjust complaints, I cannot hope that it will afford the means ofre-establishing peace and friendship betwixt France and Burgundy."

  "Be that at God's pleasure," said the King. "It is not for dread ofthy master's arms, but for the sake of peace only, that I return sotemperate an answer to his injurious reproaches. Proceed with thineerrand."

  "My master's next demand," said the ambassador, "is that your Majestywill cease your secret and underhand dealings with his towns of Ghent,Liege, and Malines. He requests that your Majesty will recall the secretagents by whose means the discontents of his good citizens of Flandersare inflamed; and dismiss from your Majesty's dominions, or ratherdeliver up to the condign punishment of their liege lord, thosetraitorous fugitives, who, having fled from the scene of theirmachinations, have found too ready a refuge in Paris, Orleans, Tours,and other French cities."

  "Say to the Duke of Burgundy," replied the King, "that I know of
no suchindirect practices as those with which he injuriously charges me; thatmany subjects of France have frequent intercourse with the good citiesof Flanders, for the purpose of mutual benefit by free traffic, which itwould be as much contrary to the Duke's interest as mine to interrupt;and that many Flemings have residence in my kingdom, and enjoy theprotection of my laws, for the same purpose; but none, to our knowledge,for those of treason or mutiny against the Duke. Proceed with yourmessage--you have heard my answer."

  "As formerly, Sire, with pain," replied the Count of Crevecoeur; "it notbeing of that direct or explicit nature which the Duke, my master, willaccept, in atonement for a long train of secret machinations, not theless certain, though now disavowed by your Majesty. But I proceed withmy message. The Duke of Burgundy farther requires the King of France tosend back to his dominions without delay, and under a secure safeguard,the persons of Isabelle Countess of Croye, and of her relation andguardian the Countess Hameline, of the same family, in respect thesaid Countess Isabelle, being, by the law of the country and the feudaltenure of her estates, the ward of the said Duke of Burgundy, hath fledfrom his dominions, and from the charge which he, as a careful guardian,was willing to extend over her, and is here maintained in secret by theKing of France and by him fortified in her contumacy to the Duke, hernatural lord and guardian, contrary to the laws of God and man, as theyever have been acknowledged in civilized Europe.--Once more I pause foryour Majesty's reply."

  "You did well, Count de Crevecoeur," said Louis, scornfully, "to beginyour embassy at an early hour; for if it be your purpose to call onme to account for the flight of every vassal whom your master's headypassion may have driven from his dominions, the head roll may last tillsunset. Who can affirm that these ladies are in my dominions? who canpresume to say, if it be so, that I have either countenanced theirflight hither, or have received them with offers of protection? Nay,who is it will assert, that, if they are in France, their place ofretirement is within my knowledge?"

  "Sire," said Crevecoeur, "may it please your Majesty, I was providedwith a witness on this subject--one who beheld these fugitive ladies inthe inn called the Fleur de Lys, not far from this Castle--one who sawyour Majesty in their company, though under the unworthy disguise of aburgess of Tours--one who received from them, in your royal presence,messages and letters to their friends in Flanders--all which he conveyedto the hand and ear of the Duke of Burgundy."

  "Bring them forward," said the King; "place the man before my face whodares maintain these palpable falsehoods."

  "You speak in triumph, my lord, for you are well aware that this witnessno longer exists. When he lived, he was called Zamet Magraubin, bybirth one of those Bohemian wanderers. He was yesterday--as I havelearned--executed by a party of your Majesty's Provost Marshal, toprevent, doubtless, his standing here to verify what he said of thismatter to the Duke of Burgundy, in presence of his Council, and of me,Philip Crevecoeur de Cordes."

  "Now, by Our Lady of Embrun," said the King, "so gross are theseaccusations, and so free of consciousness am I of aught that approachesthem, that, by the honour of a King, I laugh, rather than am wroth atthem. My Provost guard daily put to death, as is their duty, thieves andvagabonds; and is my crown to be slandered with whatever these thievesand vagabonds may have said to our hot cousin of Burgundy and hiswise counsellors? I pray you, tell my kind cousin, if he loves suchcompanions, he had best keep them in his own estates; for here they arelike to meet short shrift and a tight cord."

  "My master needs no such subjects, Sir King," answered the Count, in atone more disrespectful than he had yet permitted himself to makeuse of; "for the noble Duke uses not to inquire of witches, wanderingEgyptians, or others, upon the destiny and fate of his neighbours andallies."

  "We have had patience enough, and to spare," said the King, interruptinghim; "and since thy sole errand here seems to be for the purposeof insult, we will send some one in our name to the Duke ofBurgundy--convinced, in thus demeaning thyself towards us, thou hastexceeded thy commission, whatever that may have been."

  "On the contrary," said Crevecoeur, "I have not yet acquitted myselfof it--Hearken, Louis of Valois, King of France--Hearken, nobles andgentlemen, who may be present.--Hearken, all good and true men.--Andthou, Toison d'Or," addressing the herald, "make proclamation afterme.--I, Philip Crevecoeur of Cordes, Count of the Empire, and Knight ofthe honourable and princely Order of the Golden Fleece, in the name ofthe most puissant Lord and Prince, Charles, by the grace of God, Duke ofBurgundy and Lotharingia, of Brabant and Limbourg, of Luxembourg and ofGueldres; Earl of Flanders and of Artois; Count Palatine of Hainault, ofHolland, Zealand, Namur, and Zutphen; Marquis of the Holy Empire; Lordof Friezeland, Salines, and Malines, do give you, Louis, King of France,openly to know, that you, having refused to remedy the various griefs,wrongs, and offences, done and wrought by you, or by and through youraid, suggestion, and instigation, against the said Duke and his lovingsubjects, he, by my mouth, renounces all allegiance and fealty towardsyour crown and dignity--pronounces you false and faithless; and defiesyou as a Prince, and as a man. There lies my gage, in evidence of what Ihave said."

  So saying, he plucked the gauntlet off his right hand, and flung it downon the floor of the hall.

  Until this last climax of audacity, there had been a deep silence in theroyal apartment during the extraordinary scene; but no sooner had theclash of the gauntlet, when cast down, been echoed by the deep voiceof Toison d'Or, the Burgundian herald, with the ejaculation, "ViveBourgogne!" than there was a general tumult. While Dunois, Orleans,old Lord Crawford, and one or two others, whose rank authorized theirinterference, contended which should lift up the gauntlet, the others inthe hall exclaimed, "Strike him down! Cut him to pieces! Comes he hereto insult the King of France in his own palace?"

  But the King appeased the tumult by exclaiming, in a voice like thunder,which overawed and silenced every other sound, "Silence, my lieges, laynot a hand on the man, not a finger on the gage!--And you, Sir Count, ofwhat is your life composed, or how is it warranted, that you thus placeit on the cast of a die so perilous? or is your Duke made of a differentmetal from other princes, since he thus asserts his pretended quarrel ina manner so unusual?"

  "He is indeed framed of a different and more noble metal than the otherprinces of Europe," said the undaunted Count of Crevecoeur; "for,when not one of them dared to give shelter to you--to you, I say, KingLouis--when you were yet only Dauphin, an exile from France, and pursuedby the whole bitterness of your father's revenge, and all the power ofhis kingdom, you were received and protected like a brother by my noblemaster, whose generosity of disposition you have so grossly misused.Farewell, Sire, my mission is discharged."

  So saying, the Count de Crevecoeur left the apartment abruptly, andwithout farther leave taking.

  "After him--after him--take up the gauntlet and after him!" said theKing. "I mean not you, Dunois, nor you, my Lord of Crawford, who,methinks, may be too old for such hot frays; nor you, cousin of Orleans,who are too young for them.--My Lord Cardinal--my Lord Bishop ofAuxerre--it is your holy office to make peace among princes; do you liftthe gauntlet, and remonstrate with Count Crevecoeur on the sin he hascommitted, in thus insulting a great monarch in his own Court, andforcing us to bring the miseries of war upon his kingdom, and that ofhis neighbour."

  Upon this direct personal appeal, the Cardinal Balue proceeded to liftthe gauntlet, with such precaution as one would touch an adder--so greatwas apparently his aversion to this symbol of war--and presently leftthe royal apartment to hasten after the challenger.

  Louis paused and looked round the circle of his courtiers, most of whom,except such as we have already distinguished, being men of low birth,and raised to their rank in the King's household for other gifts thancourage or feats of arms, looked pale on each other, and had obviouslyreceived an unpleasant impression from the scene which had been justacted. Louis gazed on them with contempt, and then said aloud, "Althoughthe Count of Crevecoeur be presumptuous and overweenin
g, it must beconfessed that in him the Duke of Burgundy hath as bold a servant asever bore message for a prince. I would I knew where to find as faithfulan Envoy to carry back my answer."

  "You do your French nobles injustice, Sire," said Dunois; "not one ofthem but would carry a defiance to Burgundy on the point of his sword."

  "And, Sire," said old Crawford, "you wrong also the Scottish gentlemenwho serve you. I, or any of my followers, being of meet rank, would nothesitate a moment to call yonder proud Count to a reckoning; my ownarm is yet strong enough for the purpose, if I have but your Majesty'spermission."

  "But your Majesty," continued Dunois, "will employ us in no servicethrough which we may win honour to ourselves, to your Majesty, or toFrance."

  "Say rather," said the King, "that I will not give way, Dunois, to theheadlong impetuosity, which, on some punctilio of chivalry, would wreckyourselves, the throne, France, and all. There is not one of you whoknows not how precious every hour of peace is at this moment, when sonecessary to heal the wounds of a distracted country; yet there isnot one of you who would not rush into war on account of the tale of awandering gipsy, or of some errant damosel, whose reputation, perhaps,is scarce higher.--Here comes the Cardinal, and we trust with morepacific tidings.--How now, my Lord,--have you brought the Count toreason and to temper?"

  "Sire," said Balue, "my task hath been difficult. I put it to yonderproud Count, how he dared to use towards your Majesty the presumptuousreproach with which his audience had broken up, and which must beunderstood as proceeding, not from his master, but from his owninsolence, and as placing him therefore in your Majesty's discretion forwhat penalty you might think proper."

  "You said right," replied the King; "and what was his answer?"

  "The Count," continued the Cardinal, "had at that moment his foot in thestirrup, ready to mount; and, on hearing my expostulation, he turnedhis head without altering his position. 'Had I,' said he, 'been fiftyleagues distant, and had heard by report that a question vituperativeof my Prince had been asked by the King of France, I had, even at thatdistance, instantly mounted, and returned to disburden my mind of theanswer which I gave him but now.'"

  "I said, sirs," said the King, turning around, without any show of angryemotion, "that in the Count Philip of Crevecoeur, our cousin theDuke possesses as worthy a servant as ever rode at a prince's righthand.--But you prevailed with him to stay?"

  "To stay for twenty-four hours; and in the meanwhile to receive againhis gage of defiance," said the Cardinal; "he has dismounted at theFleur de Lys."

  "See that he be nobly attended and cared for, at our charges," saidthe King; "such a servant is a jewel in a prince's crown. Twenty-fourhours?" he added, muttering to himself, and looking as if he werestretching his eyes to see into futurity; "twenty-four hours? It is ofthe shortest. Yet twenty-four hours, ably and skilfully employed, may beworth a year in the hand of indolent or incapable agents.--Well--to theforest--to the forest, my gallant lords!--Orleans, my fair kinsman, layaside that modesty, though it becomes you; mind not my Joan's coyness.The Loire may as soon avoid mingling with the Cher, as she fromfavouring your suit, or you from preferring it," he added, as theunhappy prince moved slowly on after his betrothed bride. "And now foryour boar spears, gentlemen--for Allegre, my pricker, hath harboured onethat will try both dog and man.--Dunois, lend me your spear--take mine,it is too weighty for me; but when did you complain of such a fault inyour lance?--To horse--to horse, gentlemen."

  And all the chase rode on.