ather to Charles the IX. that now raigneth
in Fraunce) an Earle of Allemaigne called Guillaume, of the
house of Saxon, whereunto the house of Sauoie is so greatly
allied, as in old time they were but one. This Counte for so
much as he was estemed to be so comely and hardy a Gentleman as
any was in Almaigne, was in sutche good fauour with the king, as
he tooke him not onely into seruice, but vsed him so nere his
persone, as he made him of his priuy chamber. Vpon a day the
Gouernour of Burgundie, the Lorde Trimouille (an auncient knight
and loyall seruaunt of the kyng) like one suspicious and
fearfull of the euill and hurte of his Maister, had daylie
espies ouer his enemies, vsing his affaires so wysely,
as very fewe thinges were concealed from hym. Among other
aduertisementes, one of his friendes wrote vnto him that the
Counte Guillaume had receiued certain sommes of money, with
promise of more, if by any meanes he could deuise which waye to
kill the king. The Lorde of Trimouile hearing of this, failed
not to come to the kyng to giue him knowledge thereof, and
disclosed it lykewyse to Madame Loyse of Sauoye his mother, who
forgetting her amitie and aliaunce with the Almaigne Earle,
besought the king forthwith to put hym awaye. The kyng prayed
his mother to speake no more thereof, and sayde, that it was
impossible that so honest a Gentleman would attempt to doe a
deede so wicked. Within a while after, there came other newes of
that matter, confirming the first: whereof the Gouernour for the
intire loue he bare to his Maister, craued licence either to
expel him the countrie, or to put him in warde. But the king
gaue speciall commaundement that he should not make any
semblaunce of displeasure, for that hee purposed by some other
meanes to knowe the truthe. Vpon a time when he went a hunting
he girded about him the best sworde that hee had, to serue for
all armes and assayes, and toke with him the Counte Guillaume,
whome he commaunded to wayte vpon him, the firste and chiefest
next his owne persone. And after he had followed the hart a
certayne tyme, the kyng seing that his traynes was farre from
hym, and no man neare him sauing the Counte, tourned hym selfe
rounde about, and when hee sawe that hee was alone, in the mydde
of the forest, hee drew out his sworde, and sayd to the Counte:
"How saye you, (sir counte) is not this a fayre and good
swoorde?" The counte feling it at the point, and well viewyng
the same, aunswered