The lion of Flanders. Vol. I

Robert and endeavored to overpower him, but without success. Maddened with blind fury, he played the halberd in circles round his head, so that not one of them ventured within range of his weapon. Perhaps some still more fatal catastrophe would have ensued, had not the old Count, anxious for his son's life, called to him in a supplicating tone:

"Robert, my brave son! for my sake surrender; do it, I pray you, I command you!"

With these words, which he uttered in a tone of the tenderest emotion, he threw his arms about Robert's neck, and pressed his face against his son's bosom. Robert felt his father's hot tears drop upon his hand, and then for the first time understood the extent of his rashness. Tearing himself from the old Count's arms, he dashed the halberd against the wall over the heads of the guards, and cried:

“Come on, then, ye miserable hirelings, and lay hold of the Lion of Flanders! fear no longer; he surrenders."

Again the guards crowded about him, and now made him their prisoner. While he and his father were being led from the hall, he called aloud to Charles de Valois:

"There is no stain upon your arms; you still are what you have always been, the noblest knight in France; your honor is still unimpeached; bear witness all who hear that the Lion of Flanders says this."

The French knights had put up their swords again into their scabbards, so soon as they perceived that there was no danger for the king or queen. As regarded the arrest of the Lion, they left that to other hands; it was a kind of work in which a noble could not with propriety take part.

Very different, meanwhile, were the feelings of the king and of the queen on this occasion. Philip was much depressed and deeply lamented the step into which he had been drawn. Joanna, on the contrary, was full of joy at Robert's resistance, for the offense of wounding the king's servant in the king's presence was so serious that she felt her schemes of vengeance were greatly advanced thereby.

At last the king could no longer suppress his emotion and resentment, and, notwithstanding the resistance of his imperious consort, determined to leave the hall. As he rose from his throne, he said:

"Gentlemen, this scene of violence has greatly troubled us. Much more pleasing would it have been to us could we have shown mercy; unhappily the interests of our crown and realm would not admit of it. Our royal will and pleasure is, that you all use your best endeavors that the peace of our palace be not further disturbed."

The queen now rose also, and was about to descend the steps of the throne along with her husband, when a new incident, at once unexpected and vexatious, prevented her.

Charles de Valois had for some time been standing immersed in thought at the farther end of the hall. The respect which he owed his king, as well as the love he felt for his brother, long struggled in his heart against the indignation which the late act of treachery excited in him. But at last his wrath waxed uncontrollable, and broke loose: now red, now pale, with every sign of the most violent agitation of mind, he stepped forward in front of the queen:

"Madame," he thundered out, "you shall not dishonor me with impunity! Listen, gentlemen; I speak in the presence of God, the judge of us all. It is you, Joanna of Navarre, that exhaust our country's resources by your prodigality; it is you that have ground down the king's subjects by the debasement of the coin, and by extortions and oppressions of every kind; it is you that bring disgrace upon my noble brother; it is you that are the blot and shame of France. Henceforth I serve no you not! Henceforth I renounce you as a false traitress!"

With these words he drew his sword from the scabbard, snapped the blade in two across his knee, and dashed the pieces with such violence against the ground that they rebounded to the very steps of the throne.

Joanna was beside herself with shame and fury; her features were distorted with the expression of the most devilish passions, and seemed no longer to have anything womanly about them. Convulsed with rage, she exclaimed:

"Ho, guards, seize him! seize him!"

The bodyguards, who were still in the hall, prepared to execute the queen's command, and their captain was already drawing near to the Count de Valois; but this was too much for the king, who was sincerely and deeply attached to his brother:

"Whoever lays a linger upon Messire de Valois shall die this very day!" he exclaimed.

This threat checked the advance of the guards; and De Valois left the hall without hindrance, in spite of the queen's command.

Thus ended these scenes of treachery and violence. Count Guy was forthwith imprisoned at Compiegne; his son Robert was conveyed to Bourges in Berri, and William to Rouen in Normandy. The rest of the Flemish nobles were also kept in close custody, each at a different place; and were thus deprived of the consolation they might have derived from friendly companionship in misfortune.

Of all the company, Diederik die Vos was the only one that got back to Flanders, thanks to his palmer's coat, by means of which he escaped unrecognized.

Charles de Valois, with the aid of his friends, immediately left the kingdom, and retired to Italy; nor did he return thence until after the death of Philip the Fair, when Louis Hutin had succeeded to the throne.

CHAPTER VI

At the time of which we are writing, there existed in Flanders two political parties violently opposed to each other, and who spared no pains to inflict on each other every possible injury. The great majority of the nobles and those in power had