Comedy, his chief work, describes his passage through
Hell, Purgatory, and Heaven; the inscription here referred to Dante
places at the entrance of Hell.]

At that moment, perhaps, some feeling of remorse might have crossed
the King's mind, had he thought on the hundreds, nay, thousands whom,
without cause, or on light suspicion, he had committed to the abysses
of his dungeons, deprived of all hope of liberty, and loathing even the
life to which they clung by animal instinct.

The broad glare of the torches outfacing the pale moon, which was more
obscured on this than on the former night, and the red smoky light which
they dispersed around the ancient buildings, gave a darker shade to that
huge donjon, called the Earl Herbert's Tower. It was the same that Louis
had viewed with misgiving presentiment on the preceding evening, and
of which he was now doomed to become an inhabitant, under the terror of
what violence soever the wrathful temper of his overgrown vassal might
tempt him to exercise in those secret recesses of despotism.

To aggravate the King's painful feelings, he saw, as he crossed the
courtyard, one or two bodies, over each of which had been hastily flung
a military cloak. He was not long in discerning that they were corpses
of slain Archers of the Scottish Guard, who having disputed, as the
Count Crevecoeur informed him, the command given them to quit the post
near the King's apartments, a brawl had ensued between them and the
Duke's Walloon bodyguards, and before it could be composed by the
officers on either side, several lives had been lost.

"My trusty Scots!" said the King as he looked upon this melancholy
spectacle; "had they brought only man to man, all Flanders, ay, and
Burgundy to boot, had not furnished champions to mate you."

"Yes, an it please your Majesty," said Balafre, who attended close
behind the King, "Maistery mows the meadow [maist, a Scotch form of
most. That is, there is strength in numbers]--few men can fight more
than two at once.--I myself never care to meet three, unless it be in
the way of special duty, when one must not stand to count heads."

"Art thou there, old acquaintance," said the King, looking behind him;
"then I have one true subject with me yet."

"And a faithful minister, whether in your councils, or in his offices
about your royal person," whispered Oliver le Dain.

"We are all faithful," said Tristan l'Hermite gruffly; "for should they
put to death your Maj