Quentin Durward

by Walter Scott

  CHAPTER XXXV: A PRIZE FOR HONOUR

  'T is brave for Beauty when the best blade wins her.

  THE COUNT PALATINE

  When Quentin Durward reached Peronne, a council was sitting, inthe issue of which he was interested more deeply than he could haveapprehended, and which, though held by persons of a rank with whomone of his could scarce be supposed to have community of interest, hadnevertheless the most extraordinary influence on his fortunes.

  King Louis, who, after the interlude of De la Marck's envoy, hadomitted no opportunity to cultivate the returning interest which thatcircumstance had given him in the Duke's opinion, had been engaged inconsulting him, or, it might be almost said, receiving his opinion, uponthe number and quality of the troops, by whom, as auxiliary to the Dukeof Burgundy, he was to be attended in their joint expedition againstLiege. He plainly saw the wish of Charles was to call into his campsuch Frenchmen as, from their small number and high quality, might beconsidered rather as hostages than as auxiliaries; but, observantof Crevecoeur's advice, he assented as readily to whatever the Dukeproposed, as if it had arisen from the free impulse of his own mind.

  The King failed not, however, to indemnify himself for his complaisanceby the indulgence of his vindictive temper against Balue, whose counselshad led him to repose such exuberant trust in the Duke of Burgundy.Tristan, who bore the summons for moving up his auxiliary forces, hadthe farther commission to carry the Cardinal to the Castle of Loches,and there shut him up in one of those iron cages which he himself issaid to have invented.

  "Let him make proof of his own devices," said the King; "he is a manof holy church--we may not shed his blood; but, Pasques dieu! hisbishopric, for ten years to come, shall have an impregnable frontierto make up for its small extent!--And see the troops are brought upinstantly."

  Perhaps, by this prompt acquiescence, Louis hoped to evade themore unpleasing condition with which the Duke had clogged theirreconciliation. But if he so hoped, he greatly mistook the temper of hiscousin, for never man lived more tenacious of his purpose than Charlesof Burgundy, and least of all was he willing to relax any stipulationwhich he made in resentment, or revenge, of a supposed injury.

  No sooner were the necessary expresses dispatched to summon up theforces who were selected to act as auxiliaries, than Louis was calledupon by his host to give public consent to the espousals of the Duke ofOrleans and Isabelle of Croye. The King complied with a heavy sigh, andpresently after urged a slight expostulation, founded upon the necessityof observing the wishes of the Duke himself.

  "These have not been neglected," said the Duke of Burgundy, "Crevecoeurhath communicated with Monsieur d'Orleans, and finds him (strange tosay) so dead to the honour of wedding a royal bride, that he acceded tothe proposal of marrying the Countess of Croye as the kindest proposalwhich father could have made to him."

  "He is the more ungracious and thankless," said Louis, "but the wholeshall be as you, my cousin, will, if you can bring it about with consentof the parties themselves."

  "Fear not that," said the Duke, and accordingly, not many minutes after,the affair had been proposed, the Duke of Orleans and the Countessof Croye, the latter attended, as on the preceding occasion, by theCountess of Crevecoeur and the Abbess of the Ursulines, were summonedto the presence of the Princes, and heard from the mouth of Charles ofBurgundy, unobjected to by that of Louis, who sat in silent and moodyconsciousness of diminished consequence, that the union of their handswas designed by the wisdom of both Princes, to confirm the perpetualalliance which in future should take place betwixt France and Burgundy.

  The Duke of Orleans had much difficulty in suppressing the joy whichhe felt upon the proposal, and which delicacy rendered improper in thepresence of Louis; and it required his habitual awe of that monarch toenable him to rein in his delight, so much as merely to reply that hisduty compelled him to place his choice at the disposal of his Sovereign.

  "Fair cousin of Orleans," said Louis with sullen gravity, "since I mustspeak on so unpleasant an occasion, it is needless for me to remind youthat my sense of your merits had led me to propose for you a match intomy own family. But since my cousin of Burgundy thinks that the disposingof your hand otherwise is the surest pledge of amity between hisdominions and mine, I love both too well not to sacrifice to them my ownhopes and wishes."

  The Duke of Orleans threw himself on his knees, and kissed--and, foronce, with sincerity of attachment--the hand which the King, withaverted countenance, extended to him. In fact he, as well as mostpresent, saw, in the unwilling acquiescence of this accomplisheddissembler, who, even with that very purpose, had suffered hisreluctance to be visible, a King relinquishing his favourite project,and subjugating his paternal feelings to the necessities of state, andinterest of his country. Even Burgundy was moved, and Orleans's heartsmote him for the joy which he involuntarily felt on being freed fromhis engagement with the Princess Joan. If he had known how deeply theKing was cursing him in his soul, and what thoughts of future revenge hewas agitating, it is probable his own delicacy on the occasion would nothave been so much hurt.

  Charles next turned to the young Countess, and bluntly announced theproposed match to her, as a matter which neither admitted delay norhesitation, adding, at the same time, that it was but a too favourableconsequence of her intractability on a former occasion.

  "My Lord Duke and Sovereign," said Isabelle, summoning up all hercourage, "I observe your Grace's commands, and submit to them."

  "Enough, enough," said the Duke, interrupting her, "we will arrange therest.--Your Majesty," he continued, addressing King Louis, "hath hada boar's hunt in the morning; what say you to rousing a wolf in theafternoon?"

  The young Countess saw the necessity of decision.

  "Your Grace mistakes my meaning," she said, speaking, though timidly,yet loudly and decidedly enough to compel the Duke's attention, which,from some consciousness, he would otherwise have willingly denied toher.

  "My submission," she said, "only respected those lands and estates whichyour Grace's ancestors gave to mine, and which I resign to the House ofBurgundy, if my Sovereign thinks my disobedience in this matter rendersme unworthy to hold them."

  "Ha! Saint George!" said the Duke, stamping furiously on the ground,"does the fool know in what presence she is?--And to whom she speaks?"

  "My lord," she replied, still undismayed, "I am before my Suzerain, and,I trust, a just one. If you deprive me of my lands, you take away allthat your ancestors' generosity gave, and you break the only bonds whichattach us together. You gave not this poor and persecuted form, stillless the spirit which animates me.--And these it is my purpose todedicate to Heaven in the convent of the Ursulines, under the guidanceof this Holy Mother Abbess."

  The rage and astonishment of the Duke can hardly be conceived, unlesswe could estimate the surprise of a falcon against whom a dove shouldruffle its pinions in defiance.

  "Will the Holy Mother receive you without an appanage?" he said in avoice of scorn.

  "If she doth her convent, in the first instance, so much wrong," saidthe Lady Isabelle, "I trust there is charity enough among the noblefriends of my house to make up some support for the orphan of Croye."

  "It is false!" said the Duke, "it is a base pretext to cover some secretand unworthy passion.--My Lord of Orleans, she shall be yours, if I dragher to the altar with my own hands!"

  The Countess of Crevecoeur, a high spirited woman and confident in herhusband's merits and his favour with the Duke, could keep silent nolonger.

  "My lord," she said, "your passions transport you into language utterlyunworthy.--The hand of no gentlewoman can be disposed of by force."

  "And it is no part of the duty of a Christian Prince," added the Abbess,"to thwart the wishes of a pious soul, who, broken with the cares andpersecutions of the world, is desirous to become the bride of Heaven."

  "Neither can my cousin of Orleans," said Dunois, "with honour accept aproposal to which the lady has thus publicly stated her object
ions."

  "If I were permitted," said Orleans, on whose facile mind Isabelle'sbeauty had made a deep impression, "some time to endeavour to place mypretensions before the Countess in a more favourable light--"

  "My lord," said Isabelle, whose firmness was now fully supported bythe encouragement which she received from all around, "it were to nopurpose--my mind is made up to decline this alliance, though far abovemy deserts."

  "Nor have I time," said the Duke, "to wait till these whimsies arechanged with the next change of the moon.--Monseigneur d'Orleans,she shall learn within this hour that obedience becomes matter ofnecessity."

  "Not in my behalf, Sire," answered the Prince, who felt that he couldnot, with any show of honour, avail himself of the Duke's obstinatedisposition; "to have been once openly and positively refused is enoughfor a son of France. He cannot prosecute his addresses farther."

  The Duke darted one furious glance at Orleans, another at Louis, andreading in the countenance of the latter, in spite of his utmostefforts to suppress his feelings, a look of secret triumph, he becameoutrageous.

  "Write," he said, to the secretary, "our doom of forfeiture andimprisonment against this disobedient and insolent minion. She shall tothe Zuchthaus, to the penitentiary, to herd with those whose lives haverendered them her rivals in effrontery."

  There was a general murmur.

  "My Lord Duke," said the Count of Crevecoeur, taking the word for therest, "this must be better thought on. We, your faithful vassals, cannotsuffer such a dishonour to the nobility and chivalry of Burgundy. If theCountess hath done amiss, let her be punished--but in the manner thatbecomes her rank, and ours, who stand connected with her house by bloodand alliance."

  The Duke paused a moment, and looked full at his councillor with thestare of a bull, which, when compelled by the neat herd from the roadwhich he wishes to go, deliberates with himself whether to obey, or torush on his driver, and toss him into the air.

  Prudence, however, prevailed over fury--he saw the sentiment was generalin his council--was afraid of the advantages which Louis might derivefrom seeing dissension among his vassals; and probably--for he wasrather of a coarse and violent, than of a malignant temper--felt ashamedof his own dishonourable proposal.

  "You are right," he said, "Crevecoeur, and I spoke hastily. Her fateshall be determined according to the rules of chivalry. Her flightto Liege hath given the signal for the Bishop's murder. He that bestavenges that deed, and brings us the head of the Wild Boar of Ardennes,shall claim her hand of us; and if she denies his right, we can at leastgrant him her fiefs, leaving it to his generosity to allow her whatmeans he will to retire into a convent."

  "Nay!" said the Countess, "think I am the daughter of Count Reinold--ofyour father's old, valiant, and faithful servant. Would you hold me outas a prize to the best sword player?"

  "Your ancestress," said the Duke, "was won at a tourney--you shall befought for in real melee. Only thus far, for Count Reinold's sake,the successful prizer shall be a gentleman, of unimpeached birth, andunstained bearings; but, be he such, and the poorest who ever drew thestrap of a sword belt through the tongue of a buckle, he shall have atleast the proffer of your hand. I swear it, by St. George, by my ducalcrown, and by the Order that I wear!--Ha! Messires," he added, turningto the nobles present, "this at least is, I think, in conformity withthe rules of chivalry?"

  Isabelle's remonstrances were drowned in a general and jubilant assent,above which was heard the voice of old Lord Crawford, regretting theweight of years that prevented his striking for so fair a prize. TheDuke was gratified by the general applause, and his temper began to flowmore smoothly, like that of a swollen river when it hath subsided withinits natural boundaries.

  "Are we to whom fate has given dames already," said Crevecoeur, "to bebystanders at this fair game? It does not consist with my honour to beso, for I have myself a vow to be paid at the expense of that tusked andbristled brute, De la Marck."

  "Strike boldly in, Crevecoeur," said the Duke, "to win her, and sincethou canst not wear her thyself, bestow her where thou wilt--on CountStephen, your nephew, if you list."

  "Gramercy, my lord!" said Crevecoeur, "I will do my best in the battle;and, should I be fortunate enough to be foremost, Stephen shall try hiseloquence against that of the Lady Abbess."

  "I trust," said Dunois, "that the chivalry of France are not excludedfrom this fair contest?"

  "Heaven forbid! brave Dunois," answered the Duke, "were it but for thesake of seeing you do your uttermost. But," he added, "though there beno fault in the Lady Isabelle wedding a Frenchman, it will be necessarythat the Count of Croye must become a subject of Burgundy."

  "Enough," said Dunois, "my bar sinister may never be surmounted by thecoronet of Croye--I will live and die French. But, yet, though I shouldlose the lands, I will strike a blow for the lady."

  Le Balafre dared not speak aloud in such a presence, but he muttered tohimself,

  "Now, Saunders Souplejaw, hold thine own!--thou always saidst thefortune of our house was to be won by marriage, and never had you such achance to keep your word with us."

  "No one thinks of me," said Le Glorieux, "who am sure to carry off theprize from all of you."

  "Right, my sapient friend," said Louis, laughing, "when a woman is inthe case, the greatest fool is ever the first in favour."

  While the princes and their nobles thus jested over her fate, the Abbessand the Countess of Crevecoeur endeavoured in vain to console Isabelle,who had withdrawn with them from the council-presence. The formerassured her that the Holy Virgin would frown on every attempt towithdraw a true votaress from the shrine of Saint Ursula; while theCountess of Crevecoeur whispered more temporal consolation, that notrue knight, who might succeed in the enterprise proposed, would availhimself, against her inclinations, of the Duke's award; and that perhapsthe successful competitor might prove one who should find such favour inher eyes as to reconcile her to obedience. Love, like despair, catchesat straws; and, faint and vague as was the hope which this insinuationconveyed, the tears of the Countess Isabelle flowed more placidly whileshe dwelt upon it.

  [Saint Ursula: the patron saint of young girls. Tradition says she wasmartyred by the Huns, together with her eleven thousand companions. Herhistory has been painted by Carpacelo and by Hans Memling.]