pageants which accompany them. Yolande is of better cheer since
he is thus employed. When talk is ministered of the grand tourna-
ment in the Place de Carrière, she stays to listen with an eager look
in her sweet eyes, which mind me of Monseigneur Louis's; and she
doth help my mother to embroider a scarf for the conqueror. Ah,
many that day will break lances in mine honour. Many will weep
that I go never to return. Is there always a drop of sadness in
each earthly joy?
England, and yet

I would not for the world not be Queen of
Ah! what should be that plashing

of oars under the window? "Yolande, qui vive?' as the sentinels say." "Lorraine and Anjou," she answers from the next Ah! well-a-day! she has learnt the password from the

guards.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE PLACE DE CARRIERE.

Nancy, November 1st, 1444.

THE Marquis of Suffolk hath exhibited to me this morn the letter of his master, King Henry, in which he says, "As you have lately, by the Divine favour and grace, in our name, and for us, engaged verbally the excellent, magnificent, and very bright Margaretta, the serene daughter of the King of Sicily, and sworn that we shall contract matrimony with her, we consent and will that she be conducted to us over seas, from her country and friends, at our expense."

"Excellent, mag

I could not choose but smile at this missive. nificent, bright, and serene!" Methinks I must study my actions and my words, and practise a very staid and gracious behaviour in future, to fulfil his majesty's expectations. Margaretta! That soundeth not like mine own name; and albeit mine ears have not been unused to praise, yet to be termed magnificent hath a novelty in it which I mislike not.

November 2d.

A great company of English lords and ladies have arrived, with my Lord Suffolk and his wife, to witness my nuptials, and assist at the feasts and pastimes which will follow. To-morrow and two successive days I will spend in close retirement at the Convent of St. Marie. This is the Feast of All Souls. I have carried a garland to the tomb of Monseigneur Louis, and prayed a long time in the chapel wherein he lies.

November 5th.

I am a queen! the wedded wife of King Henry, my yet unseen lord. St. Martin, in whose church my troth was plighted, pray for me. An English knight, who is also a poet, says in an ode I have seen, that I, the bride of his sovereign,

"Like to the rosy morning towards its rise,

Cheered all the church, as it doth cheer the skies."

This is fair poesy; but she that cheered others then needed cheering herself. For when I stood at the altar by the side of the Earl of Suffolk, to be espoused by him in the king's name, an unwonted fear chilled my heart, and I began to tremble, which I remember not to have done in any former haps. In eight days I shall be delivered up into the hands of the English. This hath an ominous sound; but this surrender is a loving, joyous, and triumphant one, which filleth every one with delight. I shall part with my kindred, than which none have loved a young princess with a more tender, passionate, and constant affection, or been more loved in return; but is it not said in Holy Writ that a bride must needs forget her father's house, and so the king shall take pleasure in her beauty? Some declare that my lord Henry is monkishly inclined, and over-studious for a lover; but my Lady Suffolk, with whom I conversed yestereve, assures me he is more like to dote on his wife than any other prince in the world. I look at his picture until the painted likeness seems to assume life, and almost speech. The youthful features, fair smooth brow, mild and most expressive eyes, appear to smile on me. Yet in them I perceive a melancholy beauty, which 1 think must needs exist in the royal visage. No limner would invent it.

November 8th.

I cannot sleep. 'Tis in vain I lie down and try to close my eyes. When the brain is crowded with varied images, it brooks not dull repose. I have lacked leisure to write. The days are all too short for the sports which each hour renews, the stately pageants which mimic war, and the long banquets and the dance which closes every night all other pastimes. The English envoys must needs marvel to see such frolics in this court, for they seem a race more grave than I have yet met with, and prone to melancholy, if I judge by their visages. Yet a true philosophy ruleth not, I ween, their gravity more than our glee; for if one steps an inch further than his rank warrants, or another boweth in a less lowly guise than court usage doth command, I' faith these English nobles fume and scowl as if the world should therefore come to an end.

November 9th.

The tournament which my father planned with so great pains hath begun, and verily 'tis a meet pastime for kings and nobles; but I wish all the brave knights here assembled formed an army marshalled in array to conquer Jerusalem and Naples. A most glorious yet soft sunshine, such as is seen in the summer of St. Martin, enlivened the field, than which a more befitting one cannot be found for such jousts than this one of Nancy. The flower of France's chivalry is here, and likewise of Brittany, Lorraine, and Allemayne. Also the English nobles are present, and churchmen and ladies not a few, to witness this famous passage of arms. At ten this morn, after dinner, which was one hour earlier than other days, my father rode into the lists with the knights of the attack; my brother with those of the defence. Every chevalier as he passed before the queens and the ladies made due obeisance; and smiles and whispers ensued as each passed by. For majesty and grace, methinks, none can be compared to King René; albeit the Ccunts of Maine, of Foix, and of Nevers, the Lords of Saintrailles, of Brézé, and of Beauveau, André of Ladal, and young Louis de Luxembourg and his brother Pierre Count of St. Pol, are fair and gallant knights. Pierre d'Aubusson, though so young, hath the semblance of an old soldier. He won his spurs in Hungary, fighting under the brave Hunniades. One knight had his vizor drawn, and no coat of arms on his shield save a black cross. If any in this field could have matched my father in form, figure, and martial carriage, it should have been this unknown knight. When he saluted the queens, he dismounted, which none of the others had done, and made so graceful an obeisance, bending on one knee, that a murmur of applause arose; and when he leaped into his saddle and rode on, every one cheered. Many conjectures were framed touching this knight. Some thought he was the Count of Anjou, others the King of France; but this was quickly disproved, for his majesty soon after rode into the lists bearing the arms of Lusignan on his shield, the famed serpent of the fairy Melusina; and the Count of Anjou, who tilted with him, those of Aragon. The Dauphiness, who greatly affections Yolande and me, turned towards us with a smile and said:

"Mesdames, I will wager these two rings against two roses out of your posies, that I guess who this knight is."

"Nay, madame," Yolande cried before I could speak,-she whose wont is to be speechless,-"hold us excused, I pray you."

"Nay," I exclaimed, "answer for yourself, fair sister. I accept the proffer, sweet princess. Who is the knight?"

"I' faith," the Dauphiness replied, "I warrant you 'tis the King of England in disguise. Ah! what a noble wooer he would prove which concealed royalty under the semblance of simple knighthood, and won in the same hour the love of his bride and the honours of the field!"

Lord Shrewsbury, who was standing nigh to the princess, said in bad French and a resentful tone, "Tis not the custom, madam, for English monarchs to play at knight errantry, and act the part of mad troubadours."

The Dauphiness drew a ring from her finger and put it on mine, the while she replied,

"My lord, I take your word on this point as a final judgment; but methinks it should have been no disparagement to a monarch, howsoever puissant, to have encountered two kings in these lists, and that those eyes which we see had well excused a chivalrous folly, such as my poor thinking framed."

The English lord grumbled a few words betwixt his own rough language and French, which were, I ween, meant to excuse his sharp speech. These islanders have the proudest spirit imaginable, and take quick offence, for all their staid speaking and heavy aspect.

My Lord Suffolk sat by my side all the day, and discoursed of England and his King. If I so much as looked at any French prince, or spoke to him, he waxed uneasy. Methinks when I said the sky was fair and the air pleasant he was jealous, and misliked it. Poor my Lord Suffolk! I do pity him. To play the lover for another must needs be a sorry pastime. His grave visage almost moves me to laugh.

November 10th.

To-day at noon the trumpets sounded, and two kings entered the lists to tilt against each other, King Charles and King René. O, then I held my breath, and my sight almost failed me; for this was no mean contest, no common encounter, and should have had the whole world for a spectator. It was a marvel to see these two crowned kinsmen jousting in such noble and ardent guise in the midst of a goodly crowd of valiant princes and lords. I would fain not have loved them both; for then my pleasure should have been greater when my father unhorsed my uncle, who at once turned to the ladies with a gracious frankness which beseemed a king, and cried aloud, "Je n'en peut mais," owning himself conquered; at the which so loud cries of cheering rose for the victor and the vanquished that the heralds' voices were drowned. Then the Comte de St.

Pol tilted with Pierre d'Aubusson, and was unhorsed; albeit none had surpassed him the day before, and he had received the chief prize from the hands of the Queen Marie. Ah, my Lord Suffolk, you watched my visage with careful eyes during that contest, and seemed contented when I smiled at Pierre de Luxembourg's defeat. I ween that other Pierre had been the most like of the two to prove a Pierre d'achoppement to your king! The Knight of the Black Cross broke five lances in honour of a nameless beauty, and overthrew all his opponents; but when my father sent to challenge him, he replied that he had made a vow not to tilt against a monarch. A sudden thought comes into my mind. Ah, Madame Yolande, peradventure your conscience forbade you to accept the Dauphiness's wager. I must needs clear this doubt before we sleep to-night. Now the banquet is at hand, and then the ball. If my life shall resemble my nuptials, it should prove a merry one; for pleasure treadeth on the heel of pleasure in these days, and pastimes never end. I marvel sometimes that so much glee should precede a long parting, and I wax a little sad. So doth my mother.

November 11th.

To-day Yolande and I sat with the Dauphiness in a bower of the garden, and conversed.

The princess said, "Mesdames, of all the knights assembled in this famous tournament, and which wear garlands of daisies in honour of the Queen of England, which think you is the most like to break his heart when she departs?"

"Ah! without doubt," cried Yolande, "the Comte de Nevers; a more sad visage cannot be seen than his since my sister's betrothal."

Then the princess replied: "Yea, a more enamoured prince, methinks, never existed; and if your father, mesdames, hath recovered Maine and Anjou, Henri de Nevers is the cause."

"How so, madame?" I said, misliking her speech. "The King, my lord, freely yielded those provinces to my father's rightful claims."

"Freely!" quoth the lovely princess. "Ah, he had no greater freedom therein than a poor prisoner under the rack. The little blind tyrannic god holds him so tightly in his power since the day Madame Marguerite's image robbed him of his peace, that he hath no more liberty, this great king, than a caged bird. He may well thank God that Monseigneur René did not exact from him what King Herod promised his dancer-the one-half of his kingdom."