able
vassal, possessed as he was of almost all the Low Countries, then the
richest portion of Europe. At the head of the long board, which groaned
under plate of gold and silver, filled to profusion with the most
exquisite dainties, sat the Duke, and on his right hand, upon a seat
more elevated than his own, was placed his royal guest. Behind him stood
on one side the son of the Duke of Gueldres, who officiated as his grand
carver--on the other, Le Glorieux, his jester, without whom he seldom
stirred for, like most men of his hasty and coarse character, Charles
carried to extremity the general taste of that age for court fools and
jesters--experiencing that pleasure in their display of eccentricity
and mental infirmity which his more acute but not more benevolent rival
loved better to extract from marking the imperfections of humanity in
its nobler specimens, and finding subject for mirth in the "fears of the
brave and follies of the wise." And indeed, if the anecdote related by
Brantome be true, that a court fool, having overheard Louis, in one
of his agonies of repentant devotion, confess his accession to the
poisoning of his brother, Henry, Count of Guyenne, divulged it next day
at dinner before the assembled court, that monarch might be supposed
rather more than satisfied with the pleasantries of professed jesters
for the rest of his life.

But, on the present occasion, Louis neglected not to take notice of the
favourite buffoon of the Duke, and to applaud his repartees, which he
did the rather that he thought he saw that the folly of Le Glorieux,
however grossly it was sometimes displayed, covered more than the usual
quantity of shrewd and caustic observation proper to his class.

In fact, Tiel Wetzweiler, called Le Glorieux, was by no means a jester
of the common stamp. He was a tall, fine looking man, excellent at many
exercises, which seemed scarce reconcilable with mental imbecility,
because it must have required patience and attention to attain them.
He usually followed the Duke to the chase and to the fight; and at
Montl'hery, when Charles was in considerable personal danger, wounded
in the throat, and likely to be made prisoner by a French knight who
had hold of his horse's rein, Tiel Wetzweiler charged the assailant so
forcibly as to overthrow him and disengage his master. Perhaps he was
afraid of this being thought too serious a service for a person of his
condition, and that it might excite him enemies a