first
named, however, of a gallant band of assailants, knights and noblemen,
to the number of twenty, who, with the Prince of Orange as their leader,
encountered, in a general tourney, with a party of the same number under
the profligate Adolf of Cleves, who acted as challenger, by the romantic
title of Arbre d'or. The encounter, though with arms of courtesy, was
very fierce, and separated by main force, not without difficulty. Philip
de Comines has, therefore, a title to be accounted tam Martre quam
Mercurio... S.]

[D'Hymbercourt, or Imbercourt, was put to death by the inhabitants
of Ghent, with the Chancellor of Burgundy, in the year 1477. Mary of
Burgundy, daughter of Charles the Bold, appeared in mourning in the
marketplace, and with tears besought the life of her servants from her
insurgent subjects, but in vain. S.]

"They were," he said, "like the colours of the rainbow, various in hue,
as they might be viewed from different points, and placed against the
black cloud or the fair sky.--Such a rainbow was never seen in France or
Flanders, since that of Noah's ark."

"My tidings," replied Crevecoeur, "are altogether like the comet,
gloomy, wild, and terrible in themselves, yet to be accounted the
forerunners of still greater and more dreadful evils which are to
ensue."

"We must open our bales," said Comines to his companion, "or our market
will be forestalled by some newcomers, for ours are public news.--In one
word, Crevecoeur--listen and wonder--King Louis is at Peronne."

"What!" said the Count in astonishment, "has the Duke retreated without
a battle? and do you remain here in your dress of peace, after the town
is besieged by the French?--for I cannot suppose it taken."

"No, surely," said D'Hymbercourt, "the banners of Burgundy have not gone
back a foot, and still King Louis is here."

"Then Edward of England must have come over the seas with his bowmen,"
said Crevecoeur, "and, like his ancestors, gained a second field of
Poictiers?"

"Not so," said Comines. "Not a French banner has been borne down, not
a sail spread from England--where Edward is too much amused among the
wives of the citizens of London to think of playing the Black Prince.
Hear the extraordinary truth. You know, when you left us, that the
conference between the commissioners on the parts of France and Burgundy
was broken up, without apparent chance of reconciliation."

"True, and we dreamt of nothing but war."

"What has follo