<h2>CHAPTER IX.</h2>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poem">
<p>My blood hath been too cold and temperate,</p>
<p>Unapt to stir at these indignities,</p>
<p>And you have found me; for, accordingly,</p>
<p>You tread upon my patience.</p>
<p class="i12"><i>Henry IV.</i></p>
</div>
</div>
<p>The dawn of morning roused the banished Earl
of Oxford and his son, and its lights were scarce
abroad on the eastern heaven, ere their host,
Colvin, entered with an attendant, bearing some
bundles, which he placed on the floor of the tent,
and instantly retired. The officer of the Duke's
ordnance then announced that he came with a
message from the Duke of Burgundy.</p>
<p>"His Highness," he said, "has sent four stout
yeomen, with a commission of credence to my
young master of Oxford, and an ample purse of
gold, to furnish his expenses to Aix, and while
his affairs may detain him there. Also a letter of
credence to King René, to insure his reception,
and two suits of honour for his use, as for an English
gentleman, desirous to witness the festive
solemnities of Provence, and in whose safety the
Duke deigns to take deep interest. His further
affairs there, if he hath any, his Highness recommends
to him to manage with prudence and secrecy.
His Highness hath also sent a couple of
horses for his use,—one an ambling jennet for
the road, and another a strong barbed horse of
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_161" id="Page_161">161</SPAN></span>
Flanders, in case he hath aught to do. It will be
fitting that my young master change his dress, and
assume attire more near his proper rank. His
attendants know the road, and have power, in case
of need, to summon, in the Duke's name, assistance
from all faithful Burgundians. I have but to
add, the sooner the young gentleman sets forward,
it will be the better sign of a successful journey."</p>
<p>"I am ready to mount, the instant that I have
changed my dress," said Arthur.</p>
<p>"And I," said his father, "have no wish to
detain him on the service in which he is now
employed. Neither he nor I will say more than
God be with you. How and where we are to meet
again, who can tell?"</p>
<p>"I believe," said Colvin, "that must rest on the
motions of the Duke, which, perchance, are not
yet determined upon; but his Highness depends
upon your remaining with him, my noble lord, till
the affairs of which you come to treat may be more
fully decided. Something I have for your lordship's
private ear, when your son hath parted on
his journey."</p>
<p>While Colvin was thus talking with his father,
Arthur, who was not above half-dressed when he
entered the tent, had availed himself of an obscure
corner, in which he exchanged the plain garb belonging
to his supposed condition as a merchant, for
such a riding-suit as became a young man of some
quality attached to the Court of Burgundy. It
was not without a natural sensation of pleasure
that the youth resumed an apparel suitable to his
birth, and which no one was personally more fitted
to become; but it was with much deeper feeling
that he hastily, and as secretly as possible, flung
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_162" id="Page_162">162</SPAN></span>
round his neck, and concealed under the collar
and folds of his ornamented doublet, a small thin
chain of gold, curiously linked in what was called
Morisco work. This was the contents of the
parcel which Anne of Geierstein had indulged his
feelings, and perhaps her own, by putting into his
hands as they parted. The chain was secured by
a slight plate of gold, on which a bodkin, or a
point of a knife, had traced on the one side, in
distinct though light characters, <span class="smcap">Adieu for ever!</span>
while, on the reverse, there was much more obscurely
traced, the word <span class="smcap">Remember!</span>—<span class="smcap">A. von G.</span></p>
<p>All who may read this are, have been, or will
be, lovers; and there is none, therefore, who may
not be able to comprehend why this token was
carefully suspended around Arthur's neck, so that
the inscription might rest on the region of his
heart, without the interruption of any substance
which could prevent the pledge from being agitated
by every throb of that busy organ.</p>
<p>This being hastily insured, a few minutes completed
the rest of his toilette; and he kneeled before
his father to ask his blessing, and his further
commands for Aix.</p>
<p>His father blessed him almost inarticulately,
and then said, with recovered firmness, that he
was already possessed of all the knowledge necessary
for success on his mission.</p>
<p>"When you can bring me the deeds wanted," he
whispered with more firmness, "you will find me
near the person of the Duke of Burgundy."</p>
<p>They went forth of the tent in silence, and
found before it the four Burgundian yeomen, tall
and active-looking men, ready mounted themselves,
and holding two saddled horses—the one
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_163" id="Page_163">163</SPAN></span>
accoutred for war, the other a spirited jennet, for
the purposes of the journey. One of them led a
sumpter-horse, on which Colvin informed Arthur
he would find the change of habit necessary when
he should arrive at Aix; and at the same time
delivered to him a heavy purse of gold.</p>
<p>"Thiebault," he continued, pointing out the
eldest of the attendant troopers, "may be trusted—I
will be warrant for his sagacity and fidelity.
The other three are picked men, who will not fear
their skin-cutting."</p>
<p>Arthur vaulted into the saddle with a sensation
of pleasure, which was natural to a young cavalier
who had not for many months felt a spirited horse
beneath him. The lively jennet reared with impatience.
Arthur, sitting firm on his seat, as if
he had been a part of the animal, only said, "Ere
we are long acquainted, thy spirit, my fair roan,
will be something more tamed."</p>
<p>"One word more, my son," said his father, and
whispered in Arthur's ear, as he stooped from the
saddle; "if you receive a letter from me, do not
think yourself fully acquainted with the contents
till the paper has been held opposite to a hot
fire."</p>
<p>Arthur bowed, and motioned to the elder trooper
to lead the way, when all, giving rein to their
horses, rode off through the encampment at a
round pace, the young leader signing an adieu to
his father and Colvin.</p>
<p>The Earl stood like a man in a dream, following
his son with his eyes, in a kind of reverie, which
was only broken when Colvin said, "I marvel not,
my lord, that you are anxious about my young master;
he is a gallant youth, well worth a father's
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_164" id="Page_164">164</SPAN></span>
caring for, and the times we live in are both false
and bloody."</p>
<p>"God and St. Mary be my witness," said the
Earl, "that if I grieve, it is not for my own house
only;—if I am anxious, it is not for the sake of
my own son alone;—but it is hard to risk a last
stake in a cause so perilous.—What commands
brought you from the Duke?"</p>
<p>"His Grace," said Colvin, "will get on horseback
after he has breakfasted. He sends you some
garments, which, if not fitting your quality, are
yet nearer to suitable apparel than those you now
wear, and he desires that, observing your incognito
as an English merchant of eminence, you will join
him in his cavalcade to Dijon, where he is to
receive the answer of the Estates of Burgundy concerning
matters submitted to their consideration,
and thereafter give public audience to the Deputies
from Switzerland. His Highness has charged me
with the care of finding you suitable accommodation
during the ceremonies of the day, which, he
thinks, you will, as a stranger, be pleased to look
upon. But he probably told you all this himself,
for I think you saw him last night in disguise—Nay,
look as strange as you will—the Duke plays
that trick too often to be able to do it with secrecy;
the very horse-boys know him while he
traverses the tents of the common soldiery, and
sutler women give him the name of the spied spy.
If it were only honest Harry Colvin who knew
this, it should not cross his lips. But it is practised
too openly, and too widely known. Come,
noble lord, though I must teach my tongue to
forego that courtesy, will you along to breakfast?"</p>
<p>The meal, according to the practice of the time,
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_165" id="Page_165">165</SPAN></span>
was a solemn and solid one; and a favoured officer
of the Great Duke of Burgundy lacked no means,
it may be believed, of rendering due hospitality to
a guest having claims of such high respect. But
ere the breakfast was over a clamorous flourish
of trumpets announced that the Duke, with his
attendants and retinue, were sounding to horse.
Philipson, as he was still called, was, in the name
of the Duke, presented with a stately charger, and
with his host mingled in the splendid assembly
which began to gather in front of the Duke's
pavilion. In a few minutes the Prince himself
issued forth, in the superb dress of the Order of
the Golden Fleece, of which his father Philip
had been the founder, and Charles was himself the
patron and sovereign. Several of his courtiers
were dressed in the same magnificent robes, and,
with their followers and attendants, displayed so
much wealth and splendour of appearance as to
warrant the common saying that the Duke of
Burgundy maintained the most magnificent court
in Christendom. The officers of his household
attended in their order, together with heralds and
pursuivants, the grotesque richness of whose habits
had a singular effect among those of the high
clergy in their albes and dalmatiques, and of the
knights and crown vassals who were arrayed in
armour. Among these last, who were variously
equipped, according to the different character of
their service, rode Oxford, but in a peaceful habit,
neither so plain as to be out of place amongst such
splendour, nor so rich as to draw on him a special
or particular degree of attention. He rode by the
side of Colvin, his tall muscular figure and deep-marked
features forming a strong contrast to the
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_166" id="Page_166">166</SPAN></span>
rough, almost ignoble, cast of countenance, and
stout thick-set form, of the less distinguished soldier
of fortune.</p>
<p>Ranged into a solemn procession, the rear of
which was closed by a guard of two hundred
picked arquebusiers, a description of soldiers who
were just then coming into notice, and as many
mounted men-at-arms, the Duke and his retinue,
leaving the barriers of the camp, directed their
march to the town, or rather city, of Dijon, in
those days the capital of all Burgundy.</p>
<p>It was a town well secured with walls and
ditches, which last were filled by means of a small
river, named the Ousche, which combines its
waters for that purpose with a torrent called
Suzon. Four gates, with appropriate barbicans,
outworks, and drawbridges, corresponded nearly to
the cardinal points of the compass, and gave admission
to the city. The number of towers, which
stood high above its walls, and defended them at
different angles, was thirty-three; and the walls
themselves, which exceeded in most places the
height of thirty feet, were built of stones hewn
and squared, and were of great thickness. This
stately city was surrounded on the outside with
hills covered with vineyards, while from within
its walls rose the towers of many noble buildings,
both public and private, as well as the steeples of
magnificent churches, and of well-endowed convents,
attesting the wealth and devotion of the
House of Burgundy.</p>
<p>When the trumpets of the Duke's procession
had summoned the burgher guard at the gate of St.
Nicholas, the drawbridge fell, the portcullis rose,
the people shouted joyously, the windows were
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_167" id="Page_167">167</SPAN></span>
hung with tapestry, and as, in the midst of his
retinue, Charles himself came riding on a milk-white
steed, attended only by six pages under
fourteen years old, with each a gilded partisan in
his hand, the acclamations with which he was
received on all sides showed that, if some instances
of misrule had diminished his popularity, enough
of it remained to render his reception into his
capital decorous at least, if not enthusiastic. It
is probable that the veneration attached to his
father's memory counteracted for a long time the
unfavourable effect which some of his own actions
were calculated to produce on the public mind.</p>
<p>The procession halted before a large Gothic
building in the centre of Dijon. This was then
called Maison du Duc, as, after the union of Burgundy
with France, it was termed Maison du Roy.
The Maire of Dijon attended on the steps before
this palace, accompanied by his official brethren,
and escorted by a hundred able-bodied citizens, in
black velvet cloaks, bearing half-pikes in their
hands. The Maire kneeled to kiss the stirrup of
the Duke, and at the moment when Charles descended
from his horse every bell in the city commenced
so thundering a peal, that they might
almost have awakened the dead who slept in the
vicinity of the steeples, which rocked with their
clangour. Under the influence of this stunning
peal of welcome, the Duke entered the great hall
of the building, at the upper end of which were
erected a throne for the sovereign, seats for his
more distinguished officers of state and higher vassals,
with benches behind for persons of less note.
On one of these, but in a spot from which he
might possess a commanding view of the whole
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_168" id="Page_168">168</SPAN></span>
assembly, as well as of the Duke himself, Colvin
placed the noble Englishman; and Charles, whose
quick stern eye glanced rapidly over the party
when they were seated, seemed, by a nod so slight
as to be almost imperceptible to those around him,
to give his approbation of the arrangement adopted.</p>
<p>When the Duke and his assistants were seated
and in order, the Maire, again approaching, in the
most humble manner, and kneeling on the lowest
step of the ducal throne, requested to know if his
Highness's leisure permitted him to hear the inhabitants
of his capital express their devoted zeal
to his person, and to accept the benevolence which,
in the shape of a silver cup filled with gold pieces,
he had the distinguished honour to place before
his feet, in name of the citizens and community
of Dijon.</p>
<p>Charles, who at no time affected much courtesy,
answered briefly and bluntly, with a voice which
was naturally harsh and dissonant, "All things in
their order, good Master Maire. Let us first hear
what the Estates of Burgundy have to say to us.
We will then listen to the burghers of Dijon."</p>
<p>The Maire rose and retired, bearing in his hand
the silver cup, and experiencing probably some
vexation, as well as surprise, that its contents had
not secured an instant and gracious acceptance.</p>
<p>"I expected," said Duke Charles, "to have met
at this hour and place our Estates of the duchy of
Burgundy, or a deputation of them, with an answer
to our message conveyed to them three days since
by our chancellor. Is there no one here on their
part?"</p>
<p>The Maire, as none else made any attempt to
answer, said that the members of the Estates had
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_169" id="Page_169">169</SPAN></span>
been in close deliberation the whole of that morning,
and doubtless would instantly wait upon his
Highness when they heard that he had honoured
the town with his presence.</p>
<p>"Go, Toison d'Or," said the Duke to the herald
of the Order of the Golden Fleece,<SPAN name="FNanchor_7" id="FNanchor_7" href="#Footnote_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</SPAN>
"bear to these
gentlemen the tidings that we desire to know the
end of their deliberations; and that neither in
courtesy nor in loyalty can they expect us to wait
long. Be round with them, Sir Herald, or we
shall be as round with you."</p>
<p>While the herald was absent on his mission, we
may remind our readers that in all feudalised
countries (that is to say, in almost all Europe
during the Middle Ages) an ardent spirit of liberty
pervaded the constitution; and the only fault that
could be found was, that the privileges and freedom
for which the great vassals contended did not
sufficiently descend to the lower orders of society,
or extend protection to those who were most likely
to need it. The two first ranks in the estate, the
nobles and clergy, enjoyed high and important
privileges, and even the third estate, or citizens,
had this immunity in peculiar, that no new duties,
customs, or taxes of any kind could be exacted
from them save by their own consent.</p>
<p>The memory of Duke Philip, the father of
Charles, was dear to the Burgundians; for during
twenty years that sage prince had maintained his
rank amongst the sovereigns of Europe with much
dignity, and had accumulated treasure without
exacting or receiving any great increase of supplies
from the rich countries which he governed.
But the extravagant schemes and immoderate expense
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_170" id="Page_170">170</SPAN></span>
of Duke Charles had already excited the suspicion
of his Estates; and the mutual good-will
betwixt the prince and people began to be exchanged
for suspicion and distrust on the one
side, and defiance on the other. The refractory
disposition of the Estates had of late increased;
for they had disapproved of various wars in
which their Duke had needlessly embarked, and
from his levying such large bodies of mercenary
troops, they came to suspect he might finally
employ the wealth voted to him by his subjects
for the undue extension of his royal prerogative,
and the destruction of the liberties of the people.</p>
<p>At the same time, the Duke's uniform success
in enterprises which appeared desperate as well
as difficult, esteem for the frankness and openness
of his character, and dread of the obstinacy and
headstrong tendency of a temper which could seldom
bear persuasion, and never endured opposition,
still threw awe and terror around the throne,
which was materially aided by the attachment of
the common people to the person of the present
Duke and to the memory of his father. It had
been understood that upon the present occasion
there was strong opposition amongst the Estates to
the system of taxation proposed on the part of the
Duke, and the issue was expected with considerable
anxiety by the Duke's counsellors, and with
fretful impatience by the sovereign himself.</p>
<p>After a space of about ten minutes had elapsed,
the Chancellor of Burgundy, who was Archbishop
of Vienne, and a prelate of high rank, entered the
hall with his train; and passing behind the ducal
throne to occupy one of the most distinguished
places in the assembly, he stopped for a moment
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_171" id="Page_171">171</SPAN></span>
to urge his master to receive the answer of his
Estates in a private manner, giving him at the
same time to understand that the result of the
deliberations had been by no means satisfactory.</p>
<p>"By St. George of Burgundy, my Lord Archbishop,"
answered the Duke, sternly and aloud,
"we are not a prince of a mind so paltry that we
need to shun the moody looks of a discontented
and insolent faction. If the Estates of Burgundy
send a disobedient and disloyal answer to our
paternal message, let them deliver it in open
court, that the assembled people may learn how
to decide between their Duke and those petty yet
intriguing spirits, who would interfere with our
authority."</p>
<p>The chancellor bowed gravely, and took his
seat; while the English Earl observed, that most
of the members of the assembly, excepting such as
in doing so could not escape the Duke's notice,
passed some observations to their neighbours,
which were received with a half-expressed nod,
shrug, or shake of the head, as men treat a proposal
upon which it is dangerous to decide. At
the same time, Toison d'Or, who acted as master
of the ceremonies, introduced into the hall a
committee of the Estates, consisting of twelve
members, four from each branch of the Estates,
announced as empowered to deliver the answer of
that assembly to the Duke of Burgundy.</p>
<p>When the deputation entered the hall, Charles
arose from his throne, according to ancient custom,
and taking from his head his bonnet, charged with
a huge plume of feathers, "Health and welcome,"
he said, "to my good subjects of the Estates of
Burgundy!" All the numerous train of courtiers
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_172" id="Page_172">172</SPAN></span>
rose and uncovered their heads with the same ceremony.
The members of the States then dropped
on one knee, the four ecclesiastics, among whom
Oxford recognised the Black Priest of St. Paul's,
approaching nearest to the Duke's person, the
nobles kneeling behind them, and the burgesses
in the rear of the whole.</p>
<p>"Noble Duke," said the Priest of St. Paul's,
"will it best please you to hear the answer of your
good and loyal Estates of Burgundy by the voice
of one member speaking for the whole, or by three
persons, each delivering the sense of the body to
which he belongs?"</p>
<p>"As you will," said the Duke of Burgundy.</p>
<p>"A priest, a noble, and a free burgher," said
the Churchman, still on one knee, "will address
your Highness in succession. For though, blessed
be the God who leads brethren to dwell together
in unity! we are agreed in the general answer, yet
each body of the Estates may have special and
separate reasons to allege for the common opinion."</p>
<p>"We will hear you separately," said Duke
Charles, casting his hat upon his head, and throwing
himself carelessly back into his seat. At the
same time, all who were of noble blood, whether in
the committee or amongst the spectators, vouched
their right to be peers of their sovereign by assuming
their bonnets; and a cloud of waving plumes
at once added grace and dignity to the assembly.</p>
<p>When the Duke resumed his seat, the deputation
arose from their knees, and the Black Priest
of St. Paul's, again stepping forth, addressed him
in these words:—</p>
<p>"My Lord Duke, your loyal and faithful clergy
have considered your Highness's proposal to lay
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_173" id="Page_173">173</SPAN></span>
a talliage on your people, in order to make war
on the confederate Cantons in the country of the
Alps. The quarrel, my liege lord, seems to your
clergy an unjust and oppressive one on your Highness's
part; nor can they hope that God will bless
those who arm in it. They are therefore compelled
to reject your Highness's proposal."</p>
<p>The Duke's eye lowered gloomily on the deliverer
of this unpalatable message. He shook his
head with one of those stern and menacing looks
which the harsh composition of his features rendered
them peculiarly qualified to express. "You
have spoken, Sir Priest," was the only reply which
he deigned to make.</p>
<p>One of the four nobles, the Sire de Myrebeau,
then expressed himself thus:—</p>
<p>"Your Highness has asked of your faithful
nobles to consent to new imposts and exactions,
to be levied through Burgundy, for the raising of
additional bands of hired soldiers for the maintenance
of the quarrels of the State. My lord, the
swords of the Burgundian nobles, knights, and
gentlemen have been ever at your Highness's command,
as those of our ancestors have been readily
wielded for your predecessors. In your Highness's
just quarrel we will go farther, and fight firmer,
than any hired fellows who can be procured,
whether from France, or Germany, or Italy. We
will not give our consent that the people should
be taxed for paying mercenaries to discharge that
military duty which it is alike our pride and our
exclusive privilege to render."</p>
<p>"You have spoken, Sire de Myrebeau," were
again the only words of the Duke's reply. He
uttered them slowly and with deliberation, as if
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_174" id="Page_174">174</SPAN></span>
afraid lest some phrase of imprudent violence
should escape along with what he purposed to say.
Oxford thought he cast a glance towards him before
he spoke, as if the consciousness of his presence
was some additional restraint on his passion.
"Now, Heaven grant," he said to himself, "that
this opposition may work its proper effect, and
induce the Duke to renounce an imprudent attempt,
so hazardous and so unnecessary!"</p>
<p>While he muttered these thoughts, the Duke
made a sign to one of the <i>tiers état</i>, or commons,
to speak in his turn. The person who obeyed the
signal was Martin Block, a wealthy butcher and
grazier of Dijon. His words were these: "Noble
Prince, our fathers were the dutiful subjects of
your predecessors; we are the same to you; our
children will be alike the liegemen of your successors.
But, touching the request your chancellor
has made to us, it is such as our ancestors
never complied with; such as we are determined
to refuse, and such as will never be conceded by
the Estates of Burgundy, to any prince whatsoever,
even to the end of time."</p>
<p>Charles had borne with impatient silence the
speeches of the two former orators, but this blunt
and hardy reply of the third Estate excited him
beyond what his nature could endure. He gave
way to the impetuosity of his disposition, stamped
on the floor till the throne shook, and the high
vault rung over their heads, and overwhelmed the
bold burgher with reproaches. "Beast of burden,"
he said, "am I to be stunned with thy braying
too? The nobles may claim leave to speak, for
they can fight; the clergy may use their tongues,
for it is their trade; but thou, that hast never
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_175" id="Page_175">175</SPAN></span>
shed blood, save that of bullocks, more stupid than
thou art thyself—must thou and thy herd come
hither, privileged, forsooth, to bellow at a prince's
footstool? Know, brute as thou art, that steers
are never introduced into temples but to be sacrificed,
or butchers and mechanics brought before
their sovereign, save that they may have the
honour to supply the public wants from their own
swelling hoards!"</p>
<p>A murmur of displeasure, which even the terror
of the Duke's wrath could not repress, ran through
the audience at these words; and the burgher of
Dijon, a sturdy plebeian, replied, with little reverence:
"Our purses, my Lord Duke, are our own—we
will not put the strings of them into your
Highness's hands, unless we are satisfied with the
purposes to which the money is to be applied; and
we know well how to protect our persons and our
goods against foreign ruffians and plunderers."</p>
<p>Charles was on the point of ordering the deputy
to be arrested, when, having cast his eye towards
the Earl of Oxford, whose presence, in despite of
himself, imposed a certain degree of restraint upon
him, he exchanged that piece of imprudence for
another.</p>
<p>"I see," he said, addressing the committee of
Estates, "that you are all leagued to disappoint
my purposes, and doubtless to deprive me of all
the power of a sovereign, save that of wearing a
coronet, and being served on the knee like a second
Charles the Simple, while the Estates of my kingdom
divide the power among them. But you shall
know that you have to do with Charles of Burgundy,
a prince who, though he has deigned to
consult you, is fully able to fight battles without
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_176" id="Page_176">176</SPAN></span>
the aid of his nobles, since they refuse him the
assistance of their swords—to defray the expense
without the help of his sordid burghers—and, it
may be, to find out a path to heaven without the
assistance of an ungrateful priesthood. I will
show all that are here present how little my mind
is affected, or my purpose changed, by your seditious
reply to the message with which I honoured
you.—Here, Toison d'Or, admit into our presence
these men from the confederated towns and cantons,
as they call themselves, of Switzerland."</p>
<p>Oxford, and all who really interested themselves
in the Duke's welfare, heard, with the
utmost apprehension, his resolution to give an
audience to the Swiss Envoys, prepossessed as he
was against them, and in the moment when his
mood was chafed to the uttermost by the refusal
of the Estates to grant him supplies. They were
aware that obstacles opposed to the current of his
passion were like rocks in the bed of a river,
whose course they cannot interrupt, while they
provoke it to rage and foam. All were sensible
that the die was cast, but none who were not
endowed with more than mortal prescience could
have imagined how deep was the pledge which
depended upon it. Oxford, in particular, conceived
that the execution of his plan of a descent
upon England was the principal point compromised
by the Duke in his rash obstinacy; but he suspected
not—he dreamed not of supposing—that
the life of Charles himself, and the independence
of Burgundy as a separate kingdom, hung quivering
in the same scales.
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_177" id="Page_177">177</SPAN></span></p>
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