Thus said the Duke--thus did the Duke infer.
_Richard III._
The eyes of the elder traveller were well accustomed to sights of
martial splendour, yet even he was dazzled with the rich and glorious
display of the Burgundian camp, in which, near the walls of Dijon,
Charles, the wealthiest prince in Europe, had displayed his own
extravagance, and encouraged his followers to similar profusion. The
pavilions of the meanest officers were of silk and samite, while those
of the nobility and great leaders glittered with cloth of silver,
cloth of gold, variegated tapestry, and other precious materials,
which in no other situation would have been employed as a cover from
the weather, but would themselves have been thought worthy of the most
careful protection. The horsemen and infantry who mounted guard were
arrayed in the richest and most gorgeous armour. A beautiful and very
numerous train of artillery was drawn up near the entrance of the
camp, and in its commander Philipson (to give the Earl the travelling
name to which our readers are accustomed) recognised Henry
Colvin(_c_), an Englishman of inferior birth, but distinguished for
his skill in conducting these terrible engines, which had of late come
into general use in war. The banners and pennons which were displayed
by every knight, baron, and man of rank floated before their tents,
and the owners of these transitory dwellings sat at the door
half-armed, and enjoyed the military contests of the soldiers, in
wrestling, pitching the bar, and other athletic exercises.
Long rows of the noblest horses were seen at picket, prancing and
tossing their heads, as impatient of the inactivity to which they were
confined, or were heard neighing over the provender which was spread
plentifully before them. The soldiers formed joyous groups around the
minstrels and strolling jugglers, or were engaged in drinking-parties
at the sutlers' tents; others strolled about with folded arms, casting
their eyes now and then to the sinking sun, as if desirous that the
hour should arrive which should put an end to a day unoccupied, and
therefore tedious.
At length the travellers reached, amidst the dazzling varieties of
this military display, the pavilion of the Duke himself, before which
floated heavily in the evening breeze the broad and rich banner, in
which glowed the armorial bearings and quarterings of a prince, Duke
of six provinces, and Count of fifteen counties, who was, from his
power, his disposition, and the success which seemed to attend his
enterprises, the general dread of Europe. The pursuivant made himself
known to some of the household, and the Englishmen were immediately
received with courtesy, though not such as to draw attention upon
them, and conveyed to a neighbouring tent, the residence of a general
officer, which they were given to understand was destined for their
accommodation, and where their packages accordingly were deposited,
and refreshments offered them.
"As the camp is filled," said the domestic who waited upon them, "with
soldiers of different nations and uncertain dispositions, the Duke of
Burgundy, for the safety of your merchandise, has ordered you the
protection of a regular sentinel. In the meantime, be in readiness to
wait on his Highness, seeing you may look to be presently sent for."
Accordingly, the elder Philipson was shortly after summoned to the
Duke's presence, introduced by a back entrance into the ducal
pavilion, and into that part of it which, screened by close curtains
and wooden barricades, formed Charles's own separate apartment. The
plainness of the furniture, and the coarse apparatus of the Duke's
toilette, formed a strong contrast to the appearance of the exterior
of the pavilion; for Charles, whose character was, in that as in other
things, far from consistent, exhibited in his own person during war an
austerity, or rather coarseness of dress, and sometimes of manners
also, which was more like the rudeness of a German lanzknecht, than
the bearing of a prince of exalted rank; while, at the same time, he
encouraged and enjoined a great splendour of expense and display
amongst his vassals and courtiers, as if to be rudely attired, and to
despise every restraint, even of ordinary ceremony, were a privilege
of the sovereign alone. Yet when it pleased him to assume state in
person and manners, none knew better than Charles of Burgundy how he
ought to adorn and demean himself.
Upon his toilette appeared brushes and combs, which might have claimed
dismissal as past the term of service, over-worn hats and doublets,
dog-leashes, leather-belts, and other such paltry articles; amongst
which lay at random, as it seemed, the great diamond called
Sanci,--the three rubies termed the Three Brothers of Antwerp,--another
great diamond called the Lamp of Flanders, and other precious stones
of scarcely inferior value and rarity. This extraordinary display
somewhat resembled the character of the Duke himself, who mixed
cruelty with justice, magnanimity with meanness of spirit, economy
with extravagance, and liberality with avarice; being, in fact,
consistent in nothing excepting in his obstinate determination to
follow the opinion he had once formed, in every situation of things,
and through all variety of risks.
In the midst of the valueless and inestimable articles of his wardrobe
and toilette, the Duke of Burgundy called out to the English
traveller, "Welcome, Herr Philipson--welcome, you of a nation whose
traders are princes, and their merchants the mighty ones of the earth.
What new commodities have you brought to gull us with? You merchants,
by St. George, are a wily generation."
"Faith, no new merchandise I, my lord," answered the elder Englishman;
"I bring but the commodities which I showed your Highness the last
time I communicated with you, in the hope of a poor trader, that your
Grace may find them more acceptable upon a review, than when you first
saw them."
"It is well, Sir--Philipville, I think they call you?--you are a
simple trader, or you take me for a silly purchaser, that you think to
gull me with the same wares which I fancied not formerly. Change of
fashion, man--novelty--is the motto of commerce; your Lancaster wares
have had their day, and I have bought of them like others, and was
like enough to have paid dear for them too. York is all the vogue
now."
"It may be so among the vulgar," said the Earl of Oxford; "but for
souls like your Highness, faith, honour, and loyalty are jewels which
change of fancy, or mutability of taste, cannot put out of fashion."
"Why, it may be, noble Oxford," said the Duke, "that I preserve in my
secret mind some veneration for these old-fashioned qualities, else
why should I have such regard for your person, in which they have ever
been distinguished? But my situation is painfully urgent, and should I
make a false step at this crisis, I might break the purposes of my
whole life. Observe me, Sir Merchant. Here has come over your old
competitor, Blackburn, whom some call Edward of York and of London,
with a commodity of bows and bills such as never entered France since
King Arthur's time; and he offers to enter into joint adventure with
me, or, in plain speech, to make common cause with Burgundy, till we
smoke out of his earths the old fox Louis, and nail his hide to the
stable-door. In a word, England invites me to take part with him
against my most wily and inveterate enemy, the King of France; to rid
myself of the chain of vassalage, and to ascend into the rank of
independent princes;--how think you, noble Earl, can I forego this
seducing temptation?"
"You must ask this of some of your counsellors of Burgundy," said
Oxford; "it is a question fraught too deeply with ruin to my cause,
for me to give a fair opinion on it."
"Nevertheless," said Charles, "I ask thee, as an honourable man, what
objections you see to the course proposed to me? Speak your mind, and
speak it freely."
"My lord, I know it is in your Highness's nature to entertain no
doubts of the facility of executing anything which you have once
determined shall be done. Yet, though this prince-like disposition may
in some cases prepare for its own success, and has often done so,
there are others, in which, persisting in our purpose, merely because
we have once willed it, leads not to success, but to ruin. Look,
therefore, at this English army;--winter is approaching, where are
they to be lodged? how are they to be victualled? by whom are they to
be paid? Is your Highness to take all the expense and labour of
fitting them for the summer campaign? for, rely on it, an English army
never was, nor will be, fit for service, till they have been out of
their own island long enough to accustom them to military duty. They
are men, I grant, the fittest for soldiers in the world; but they are
not soldiers as yet, and must be trained to become such at your
Highness's expense."
"Be it so," said Charles; "I think the Low Countries can find food for
the beef-consuming knaves for a few weeks, and villages for them to
lie in, and officers to train their sturdy limbs to war, and
provost-marshals enough to reduce their refractory spirit to
discipline."
"What happens next?" said Oxford. "You march to Paris, add to Edward's
usurped power another kingdom; restore to him all the possessions
which England ever had in France, Normandy, Maine, Anjou, Gascony, and
all besides--Can you trust this Edward when you shall have thus
fostered his strength, and made him far stronger than this Louis whom
you have united to pull down?"
"By St. George, I will not dissemble with you! It is in that very
point that my doubts trouble me. Edward is indeed my brother-in-law,
but I am a man little inclined to put my head under my wife's girdle."
"And the times," said Philipson, "have too often shown the
inefficiency of family alliances, to prevent the most gross breaches
of faith."
"You say well, Earl. Clarence betrayed his father-in-law; Louis
poisoned his brother--Domestic affections, pshaw! they sit warm enough
by a private man's fireside, but they cannot come into fields of
battle, or princes' halls, where the wind blows cold. No, my alliance
with Edward by marriage were little succour to me in time of need. I
would as soon ride an unbroken horse, with no better bridle than a
lady's garter. But what then is the result? He wars on Louis;
whichever gains the better, I, who must be strengthened in their
mutual weakness, receive the advantage--The Englishmen slay the French
with their cloth-yard shafts, and the Frenchmen, by skirmishes, waste,
weaken, and destroy the English. With spring I take the field with an
army superior to both, and then, St. George for Burgundy!"
"And if, in the meanwhile, your Highness will deign to assist, even in
the most trifling degree, a cause the most honourable that ever knight
laid lance in rest for,--a moderate sum of money, and a small body of
Hainault lances, who may gain both fame and fortune by the service,
may replace the injured heir of Lancaster in the possession of his
native and rightful dominion."
"Ay, marry, Sir Earl," said the Duke, "you come roundly to the point;
but we have seen, and indeed partly assisted, at so many turns betwixt
York and Lancaster, that we have some doubt which is the side to which
Heaven has given the right, and the inclinations of the people the
effectual power; we are surprised into absolute giddiness by so many
extraordinary revolutions of fortune as England has exhibited."
"A proof, my lord, that these mutations are not yet ended, and that
your generous aid may give to the better side an effectual turn of
advantage."
"And lend my cousin, Margaret of Anjou, my arm to dethrone my wife's
brother? Perhaps he deserves small good-will at my hands, since he and
his insolent nobles have been urging me with remonstrances, and even
threats, to lay aside all my own important affairs, and join Edward,
forsooth, in his knight-errant expedition against Louis. I will march
against Louis at my own time, and not sooner; and, by St. George!
neither island king, nor island noble, shall dictate to Charles of
Burgundy. You are fine conceited companions, you English of both
sides, that think the matters of your own bedlam island are as
interesting to all the world as to yourselves. But neither York nor
Lancaster, neither brother Blackburn nor cousin Margaret of Anjou, not
with John de Vere to back her, shall gull me. Men lure no hawks with
empty hands."
Oxford, familiar with the Duke's disposition, suffered him to exhaust
himself in chafing, that any one should pretend to dictate his course
of conduct, and, when he was at length silent, replied with
calmness--"Do I live to hear the noble Duke of Burgundy, the mirror of
European chivalry, say, that no reason has been shown to him for an
adventure where a helpless queen is to be redressed--a royal house
raised from the dust? Is there not immortal _los_ and honour--the
trumpet of fame to proclaim the sovereign, who, alone in a degenerate
age, has united the duties of a generous knight with those of a
princely sovereign"----
The Duke interrupted him, striking him at the same time on the
shoulder--"And King René's five hundred fiddlers to tune their cracked
violins in my praise? and King René himself to listen to them, and
say, 'Well fought, Duke--well played, fiddler!' I tell thee, John of
Oxford, when thou and I wore maiden armour, such words as fame,
honour, _los_, knightly glory, lady's love, and so forth, were good
mottoes for our snow-white shields, and a fair enough argument for
splintering lances--Ay, and in tilt-yard, though somewhat old for
these fierce follies, I would jeopard my person in such a quarrel yet,
as becomes a knight of the order. But when we come to paying down of
crowns, and embarking of large squadrons, we must have to propose to
our subjects some substantial excuse for plunging them in war; some
proposal for the public good--or, by St. George! for our own private
advantage, which is the same thing. This is the course the world runs,
and, Oxford, to tell the plain truth, I mean to hold the same bias."
"Heaven forbid that I should expect your Highness to act otherwise
than with a view to your subjects' welfare--the increase, that is, as
your Grace happily expresses it, of your own power and dominion. The
money we require is not in benevolence, but in loan; and Margaret is
willing to deposit these jewels, of which I think your Grace knows the
value, till she shall repay the sum which your friendship may advance
in her necessity."
"Ha, ha!" said the Duke, "would our cousin make a pawnbroker of us,
and have us deal with her like a Jewish usurer with his debtor?--Yet,
in faith, Oxford, we may need the diamonds, for if this business were
otherwise feasible, it is possible that I myself must become a
borrower to aid my cousin's necessities. I have applied to the States
of the Duchy, who are now sitting, and expect, as is reasonable, a
large supply. But there are restless heads and close hands among them,
and they may be niggardly--So place the jewels on the table in the
meanwhile.--Well, say I am to be no sufferer in purse by this feat of
knight-errantry which you propose to me, still princes enter not into
war without some view of advantage?"
"Listen to me, noble sovereign. You are naturally bent to unite the
great estates of your father, and those you have acquired by your own
arms, into a compact and firm dukedom"----
"Call it kingdom," said Charles; "it is the worthier word."
"Into a kingdom, of which the crown shall sit as fair and even on your
Grace's brow as that of France on your present suzerain, Louis."
"It need not such shrewdness as yours to descry that such is my
purpose," said the Duke; "else, wherefore am I here with helm on my
head, and sword by my side? And wherefore are my troops seizing on the
strong places in Lorraine, and chasing before them the beggarly De
Vaudemont, who has the insolence to claim it as his inheritance? Yes,
my friend, the aggrandisement of Burgundy is a theme for which the
duke of that fair province is bound to fight, while he can put foot in
stirrup."
"But think you not," said the English Earl, "since you allow me to
speak freely with your Grace, on the footing of old acquaintanceship,
think you not that in this chart of your dominions, otherwise so
fairly bounded, there is something on the southern frontier which
might be arranged more advantageously for a King of Burgundy?"
"I cannot guess whither you would lead me," said the Duke, looking at
a map of the Duchy and his other possessions, to which the Englishman
had pointed his attention, and then turning his broad keen eye upon
the face of the banished Earl.
"I would say," replied the latter, "that, to so powerful a prince as
your Grace, there is no safe neighbour but the sea. Here is Provence,
which interferes betwixt you and the Mediterranean; Provence, with its
princely harbours, and fertile cornfields and vineyards. Were it not
well to include it in your map of sovereignty, and thus touch the
middle sea with one hand, while the other rested on the sea-coast of
Flanders?"
"Provence, said you?" replied the Duke, eagerly. "Why, man, my very
dreams are of Provence. I cannot smell an orange but it reminds me of
its perfumed woods and bowers, its olives, citrons, and pomegranates.
But how to frame pretensions to it? Shame it were to disturb René, the
harmless old man, nor would it become a near relation. Then he is the
uncle of Louis; and most probably, failing his daughter Margaret, or
perhaps in preference to her, he hath named the French King his heir."
"A better claim might be raised up in your Grace's own person," said
the Earl of Oxford, "if you will afford Margaret of Anjou the succour
she requires by me."
"Take the aid thou requirest," replied the Duke; "take double the
amount of it in men and money! Let me but have a claim upon Provence,
though thin as a single thread of thy Queen Margaret's hair, and let
me alone for twisting it into the tough texture of a quadruple
cable.--But I am a fool to listen to the dreams of one who, ruined
himself, can lose little by holding forth to others the most
extravagant hopes."
Charles breathed high, and changed complexion as he spoke.
"I am not such a person, my Lord Duke," said the Earl. "Listen to
me--René is broken with years, fond of repose, and too poor to
maintain his rank with the necessary dignity; too good-natured, or too
feeble-minded, to lay further imposts on his subjects; weary of
contending with bad fortune, and desirous to resign his
territories"----
"His territories!" said Charles.
"Yes, all he actually possesses; and the much more extensive dominions
which he has claim to, but which have passed from his sway."
"You take away my breath!" said the Duke. "René resign Provence! and
what says Margaret--the proud, the high-minded Margaret--will she
subscribe to so humiliating a proceeding?"
"For the chance of seeing Lancaster triumph in England, she would
resign, not only dominion, but life itself. And, in truth, the
sacrifice is less than it may seem to be. It is certain that, when
René dies, the King of France will claim the old man's county of
Provence as a male fief, and there is no one strong enough to back
Margaret's claim of inheritance, however just it may be."
"It is just," said Charles; "it is undeniable! I will not hear of its
being denied or challenged--that is, when once it is established in
our own person. It is the true principle of the war for the public
good, that none of the great fiefs be suffered to revert again to the
crown of France, least of all while it stands on a brow so astucious
and unprincipled as that of Louis. Burgundy joined to Provence--a
dominion from the German Ocean to the Mediterranean! Oxford--thou art
my better angel!"
"Your Grace must, however, reflect," said Oxford, "that honourable
provision must be made for King René."
"Certainly, man, certainly; he shall have a score of fiddlers and
jugglers to play, roar, and recite to him from morning till night. He
shall have a court of troubadours, who shall do nothing but drink,
flute, and fiddle to him, and pronounce _arrests_ of _love_, to be
confirmed or reversed by an appeal to himself, the supreme _Roi
d'Amour_. And Margaret shall also be honourably sustained, in the
manner you may point out."
"That will be easily settled," answered the English Earl. "If our
attempts on England succeed, she will need no aid from Burgundy. If
she fails, she retires into a cloister, and it will not be long that
she will need the honourable maintenance which, I am sure, your
Grace's generosity will willingly assign her."
"Unquestionably," answered Charles; "and on a scale which will become
us both;--but, by my halidome, John of Vere, the abbess into whose
cloister Margaret of Anjou shall retire will have an ungovernable
penitent under her charge. Well do I know her; and, Sir Earl, I will
not clog our discourse by expressing any doubts, that, if she pleases,
she can compel her father to resign his estates to whomsoever she
will. She is like my brache, Gorgon, who compels whatsoever hound is
coupled with her to go the way she chooses, or she strangles him if he
resists. So has Margaret acted with her simple-minded husband, and I
am aware that her father, a fool of a different cast, must of
necessity be equally tractable. I think _I_ could have matched
her,--though my very neck aches at the thought of the struggles we
should have had for mastery.--But you look grave, because I jest with
the pertinacious temper of my unhappy cousin."
"My lord," said Oxford, "whatever are or have been the defects of my
mistress, she is in distress, and almost in desolation. She is my
sovereign, and your Highness's cousin not the less."
"Enough said, Sir Earl," answered the Duke. "Let us speak seriously.
Whatever we may think of the abdication of King René, I fear we shall
find it difficult to make Louis XI. see the matter as favourably as we
do. He will hold that the county of Provence is a male fief, and that
neither the resignation of René nor the consent of his daughter can
prevent its reverting to the crown of France, as the King of Sicily,
as they call him, hath no male issue."
"That, may it please your Grace, is a question for battle to decide;
and your Highness has successfully braved Louis for a less important
stake. All I can say is, that, if your Grace's active assistance
enables the young Earl of Richmond to succeed in his enterprise, you
shall have the aid of three thousand English archers, if old John of
Oxford, for want of a better leader, were to bring them over himself."
"A noble aid," said the Duke; "graced still more by him who promises
to lead them. Thy succour, noble Oxford, were precious to me, did you
but come with your sword by your side, and a single page at your back.
I know you well, both heart and head. But let us to this gear; exiles,
even the wisest, are privileged in promises, and sometimes--excuse me,
noble Oxford--impose on themselves as well as on their friends. What
are the hopes on which you desire me again to embark on so troubled
and uncertain an ocean as these civil contests of yours?"
The Earl of Oxford produced a schedule, and explained to the Duke the
plan of his expedition, to be backed by an insurrection of the friends
of Lancaster, of which it is enough to say, that it was bold to the
verge of temerity; but yet so well compacted and put together, as to
bear, in those times of rapid revolution, and under a leader of
Oxford's approved military skill and political sagacity, a strong
appearance of probable success.
While Duke Charles mused over the particulars of an enterprise
attractive and congenial to his own disposition,--while he counted
over the affronts which he had received from his brother-in-law,
Edward IV., the present opportunity for taking a signal revenge, and
the rich acquisition which he hoped to make in Provence by the cession
in his favour of René of Anjou and his daughter, the Englishman failed
not to press on his consideration the urgent necessity of suffering no
time to escape.
"The accomplishment of this scheme," he said, "demands the utmost
promptitude. To have a chance of success, I must be in England, with
your Grace's auxiliary forces, before Edward of York can return from
France with his army."
"And having come hither," said the Duke, "our worthy brother will be
in no hurry to return again. He will meet with black-eyed French women
and ruby-coloured French wine, and brother Blackburn is no man to
leave such commodities in a hurry."
"My Lord Duke, I will speak truth of my enemy. Edward is indolent and
luxurious when things are easy around him, but let him feel the spur
of necessity, and he becomes as eager as a pampered steed. Louis, too,
who seldom fails in finding means to accomplish his ends, is bent upon
determining the English King to recross the sea--therefore, speed,
noble Prince--speed is the soul of your enterprise."
"Speed!" said the Duke of Burgundy,--"Why, I will go with you, and see
the embarkation myself; and tried, approved soldiers you shall have,
such as are nowhere to be found save in Artois and Hainault."
"But pardon yet, noble Duke, the impatience of a drowning wretch
urgently pressing for assistance.--When shall we to the coast of
Flanders, to order this important measure?"
"Why, in a fortnight, or perchance a week, or, in a word, so soon as I
shall have chastised to purpose a certain gang of thieves and robbers,
who, as the scum of the caldron will always be uppermost, have got up
into the fastnesses of the Alps, and from thence annoy our frontiers
by contraband traffic, pillage, and robbery."
"Your Highness means the Swiss confederates?"
"Ay, the peasant churls give themselves such a name. They are a sort
of manumitted slaves of Austria, and, like a ban-dog, whose chain is
broken, they avail themselves of their liberty to annoy and rend
whatever comes in their way."
"I travelled through their country from Italy," said the exiled Earl,
"and I heard it was the purpose of the Cantons to send envoys to
solicit peace of your Highness."
"Peace!" exclaimed Charles.--"A proper sort of peaceful proceedings
those of their embassy have been! Availing themselves of a mutiny of
the burghers of La Ferette, the first garrison town which they
entered, they stormed the walls, seized on Archibald de Hagenbach, who
commanded the place on my part, and put him to death in the
market-place. Such an insult must be punished, Sir John de Vere; and
if you do not see me in the storm of passion which it well deserves,
it is because I have already given orders to hang up the base
runagates who call themselves ambassadors."
"For God's sake, noble Duke," said the Englishman, throwing himself at
Charles's feet--"for your own character, for the sake of the peace of
Christendom, revoke such an order if it is really given!"
"What means this passion?" said Duke Charles.--"What are these men's
lives to thee, excepting that the consequences of a war may delay your
expedition for a few days?"
"May render it altogether abortive," said the Earl; "nay, _must_ needs
do so.--Hear me, Lord Duke. I was with these men on a part of their
journey."
"You!" said the Duke--"you a companion of the paltry Swiss peasants?
Misfortune has sunk the pride of English nobility to a low ebb, when
you selected such associates."
"I was thrown amongst them by accident," said the Earl. "Some of them
are of noble blood, and are, besides, men for whose peaceable
intentions I ventured to constitute myself their warrant."
"On my honour, my Lord of Oxford, you graced them highly, and me no
less, in interfering between the Swiss and myself! Allow me to say
that I condescend, when, in deference to past friendship, I permit you
to speak to me of your own English affairs. Methinks you might well
spare me your opinion upon topics with which you have no natural
concern."
"My Lord of Burgundy," replied Oxford, "I followed your banner to
Paris, and had the good luck to rescue you in the fight at Mont
L'Hery, when you were beset by the French men-at-arms"----
"We have not forgot it," said Duke Charles; "and it is a sign that we
keep the action in remembrance, that you have been suffered to stand
before us so long, pleading the cause of a set of rascals, whom we are
required to spare from the gallows that groans for them, because
forsooth they have been the fellow-travellers of the Earl of Oxford!"
"Not so, my lord. I ask their lives, only because they are upon a
peaceful errand, and the leaders amongst them, at least, have no
accession to the crime of which you complain."
The Duke traversed the apartment with unequal steps in much agitation,
his large eyebrows drawn down over his eyes, his hands clenched, and
his teeth set, until at length he seemed to take a resolution. He rung
a handbell of silver, which stood upon his table.
"Here, Contay," he said to the gentleman of his chamber who entered,
"are these mountain fellows yet executed?"
"No, may it please your Highness; but the executioner waits them so
soon as the priest hath confessed them."
"Let them live," said the Duke. "We will hear to-morrow in what manner
they propose to justify their proceedings towards us."
Contay bowed and left the apartment; then turning to the Englishman,
the Duke said, with an indescribable mixture of haughtiness with
familiarity and even kindness, but having his brows cleared, and his
looks composed,--"We are now clear of obligation, my Lord of
Oxford--you have obtained life for life--nay, to make up some
inequality which there may be betwixt the value of the commodities
bestowed, you have obtained six lives for one. I will, therefore, pay
no more attention to you, should you again upbraid me with the
stumbling horse at Mont L'Hery, or your own achievements on that
occasion. Most princes are contented with privately hating such men as
have rendered them extraordinary services--I feel no such
disposition--I only detest being reminded of having had occasion for
them.--Pshaw! I am half choked with the effort of foregoing my own
fixed resolution.--So ho! who waits there? Bring me to drink."
An usher entered, bearing a large silver flagon, which, instead of
wine, was filled with ptisan slightly flavoured by aromatic herbs.
"I am so hot and choleric by nature," said the Duke, "that our leeches
prohibit me from drinking wine. But you, Oxford, are bound by no such
regimen. Get thee to thy countryman, Colvin, the general of our
artillery. We commend thee to his custody and hospitality till
to-morrow, which must be a busy day, since I expect to receive the
answer of these wiseacres of the Dijon assembly of estates; and have
also to hear (thanks to your lordship's interference) these miserable
Swiss envoys, as they call themselves. Well, no more on't.--Good-night.
You may communicate freely with Colvin, who is, like yourself, an old
Lancastrian.--But hark ye, not a word respecting Provence--not even in
your sleep.--Contay, conduct this English gentleman to Colvin's tent.
He knows my pleasure respecting him."
"So please your Grace," answered Contay, "I left the English
gentleman's son with Monsieur de Colvin."
"What! thine own son, Oxford? And with thee here? Why did you not tell
me of him? Is he a true scion of the ancient tree?"
"It is my pride to believe so, my lord. He has been the faithful
companion of all my dangers and wanderings."
"Happy man!" said the Duke, with a sigh. "You, Oxford, have a son to
share your poverty and distress--I have none to be partner and
successor to my greatness."
"You have a daughter, my lord," said the noble De Vere, "and it is to
be hoped she will one day wed some powerful prince, who may be the
stay of your Highness's house."
"Never! By St. George, never!" answered the Duke, sharply and shortly.
"I will have no son-in-law, who may make the daughter's bed a
stepping-stone to reach the father's crown. Oxford, I have spoken more
freely than I am wont, perhaps more freely than I ought--but I hold
some men trustworthy, and believe you, Sir John de Vere, to be one of
them."
The English nobleman bowed, and was about to leave his presence, but
the Duke presently recalled him.
"There is one thing more, Oxford.--The cession of Provence is not
quite enough. René and Margaret must disavow this hot-brained Ferrand
de Vaudemont, who is making some foolish stir in Lorraine, in right of
his mother Yolande."
"My lord," said Oxford, "Ferrand is the grandson of King René, the
nephew of Queen Margaret; but yet"----
"But yet, by St. George, his rights, as he calls them, on Lorraine
must positively be disowned. You talk of their family feelings, while
you are urging me to make war on my own brother-in-law!"
"René's best apology for deserting his grandson," answered Oxford,
"will be his total inability to support and assist him. I will
communicate your Grace's condition, though it is a hard one."
So saying, he left the pavilion.