rabant offered to become prisoner in his place, and found himself
obliged, in order to obtain his liberty, to pay his father-in-law a tough
ransom. It was not long before Guy himself suffered from the same sort
of iniquitous surprise that he had practised upon his sons-in-law. In
1293 he was secretly negotiating the marriage of Philippa, one of his
daughters, with Prince Edward, eldest son of the King of England. Philip
the Handsome, having received due warning, invited the Count of Flanders
to Paris, "to take counsel with him and the other barons touching the
state of the king-dom." At first Guy hesitated; but he dared not refuse,
and he repaired to Paris, with his sons John and Guy. As soon as he
arrived he bashfully announced to the king the approaching union of his
daughter with the English prince, protesting, "that he would never cease,
for all that, to serve him loyally, as every good and true man should
serve his lord." "In God's name, Sir Count," said the enraged king,
"this thing will never do; you have made alliance with my foe, without my
wit; wherefore you shall abide with me;" and he had him, together with
his sons, marched off at once to the tower of the Louvre, where Guy
remained for six months, and did not then get out save by leaving as
hostage to the King of France his daughter Philippa herself, who was
destined to pass in this prison her young and mournful life. On once
more entering Flanders, Count Guy oscillated for two years between the
King of France and the King of England, submitting to the exactions of
the former, at the same time that he was privily renewing his attempts to
form an intimate alliance with the latter. Driven to extremity by the
haughty severity of Philip, he at last came to a decision, concluded a
formal treaty with Edward I., affianced to the English crown-prince the
most youthful of his daughters, Isabel of Flanders, youngest sister of
Philippa, the prisoner in the tower of the Louvre, and charged two
ambassadors to go to Paris, as the bearers of the following declaration:
"Every one doth know in how many ways the King of France hath misbehaved
towards God and justice. Such is his might and his pride, that he doth
acknowledge nought above himself, and he hath brought us to the necessity
of seeking allies who may be able to defend and protect us. . . . By
reason whereof we do charge our ambassadors to declare and say, for us
and from us, to the above said king, that b