Chapter IV

SIR JOHN FROISSART ARRIVES AT ORTHÈS.--AN OLD SQUIRE RELATES TO HIM THE CRUEL DEATH OF THE ONLY SON OF THE COUNT OF FOIX.

On the morrow we set out, and dined at Montgerbal, when having remounted, and drunk a cup at Ercie, we arrived by sunset at Orthès. The knight dismounted at his own house; and I did the same at the Hotel of the Moon, kept by a squire of the count, called Ernauton du Pin, who received me with much pleasure on account of my being a Frenchman. Sir Espaign du Lyon, who had accompanied me, went to the castle to speak with the count on his affairs. He found him in his gallery, for a little before that hour he had dined. It was a custom with the count, which he had followed from his infancy, to rise at noon, and sup at midnight.

The knight informed him of my arrival, and I was instantly sent for; for he is a lord above all others who delights to see strangers, in order to hear news. On my entering, he received me handsomely, and retained me of his household; where I staid upward of twelve weeks well entertained, as were my horses. Our acquaintance was strengthened by my having brought with me a book which I had made at the desire of Winceslaus of Bohemia, Duke of Luxembourg and Brabant. In this book, called “Le Meliador,” are contained all the songs, ballads, roundelays, and virelays, which that gentle duke had composed, and of them I had made this collection. Every night after supper I read out to him parts; during which time neither he nor any one else spoke, for he was desirous I should be well heard, and took much delight in it. When any passages were not perfectly clear, he himself discussed them with me, not in his Gascon language, but in very good French.

I shall relate to you several things respecting him and his household, for I tarried there as long as I could gain any information. Count Gaston Phœbus de Foix, of whom I am now speaking, was at that time fifty-nine years old; and I must say, that although I have seen very many knights, kings, princes, and others, I have never seen any so handsome, either in the form of his limbs and shape, or in countenance, which was fair and ruddy, with gray and tender eyes, that gave delight whenever he chose to express affection. He was so perfectly formed, one could not praise him too much. He loved earnestly the things he ought to love, and hated those which it was becoming him so to hate. He was a prudent knight, full of enterprise and wisdom. He had never any men of abandoned character with him, reigned prudently, and was constant in his devotions. There were regular nocturnals from the Psalter, prayers from the rituals to the Virgin, to the Holy Ghost, and from the burial-service. He had every day distributed as alms, at his gate, five florins in small coin, to all comers. He was liberal and courteous in his gifts; and well knew how to take when it was proper, and to give back where he had confidence. He mightily loved dogs above all other animals, and during the summer and winter amused himself much with hunting. He never liked any foolish works nor ridiculous extravagances; and would know every month the amount of his expenditure. He chose from his own subjects twelve of the most able to receive and administer his finances: two of them had the management for two months, when they were changed for two others; and from them he selected one as comptroller, in whom he placed his greatest confidence, and to whom all others rendered their accounts. This comptroller accounted by rolls or written books, which were laid before the count. He had certain coffers in his apartment, from whence he took money to give to different knights, squires, or gentlemen, when they came to wait on him, for none ever left him without a gift; and these sums he continually increased, in order to be prepared for any event that might happen. He was easy of access to all, and entered very freely into discourse, though laconic in his advice and in his answers. He employed four secretaries to write and copy his letters; and these secretaries were obliged to be in readiness the moment he came out from his closet. He called them neither John, Walter, nor William, but his good-for-nothings, to whom he gave his letters after he had read them, either to copy, or to do any thing else he might command.

In such manner did the Count de Foix live. When he quitted his chamber at midnight for supper, twelve servants bore each a lighted torch before him, which were placed near his table, and gave a brilliant light to the apartment. The hall was full of knights and squires; and there were plenty of tables laid out for any person who chose to sup. No one spoke to him at his table, unless he first began a conversation. He commonly ate heartily of poultry, but only the wings and thighs; for in the daytime he neither ate nor drank much. He had great pleasure in hearing minstrels, as he himself was a proficient in the science, and made his secretaries sing songs, ballads, and roundelays. He remained at table about two hours; and was pleased when fanciful dishes were served up to him, which having seen, he immediately sent them to the tables of his knights and squires.

In short, every thing considered, though I had before been in several courts of kings, dukes, princes, counts, and noble ladies, I was never at one that pleased me more, nor was I ever more delighted with feats of arms, than at this of the Count de Foix.

I was very anxious to know, seeing the hotel of the count so spacious and so amply supplied, what was become of his son Gaston, and by what accident he had died, for Sir Espaign du Lyon would never satisfy my curiosity. I had made so many inquiries, that at last an old and intelligent squire informed me:--

“Gaston, the son of my lord, grew up, and became a fine young gentleman. He was married to the daughter of the Count d’Armagnac, sister to the present count and to Sir Bernard d’Armagnac; and by this union peace was insured between Foix and Armagnac. The youth might be about fifteen or sixteen years old: he was a very handsome figure, and the exact resemblance of his father in his whole form.

“He took it into his head to make a journey into Navarre, to visit his mother[32] and uncle; but it was an unfortunate journey for him and for this country. On his arrival at Navarre, he was splendidly entertained; and he staid some time with his mother. On taking leave, he could not prevail on her, notwithstanding his remonstrances and entreaties, to accompany him back; for, the lady having asked if the Count de Foix, his father, had ordered him to bring her back, he replied that when he set out no such orders had been given; which caused her to fear trusting herself with him. She therefore remained; and the heir of Foix went to Pampeluna to take leave of his uncle. The king entertained him well, and detained him upward of ten days. On his departure, he made him handsome presents, and did the same by his attendants. The last gift the king gave him was the cause of his death, and I will tell you how it happened. As the youth was on the point of setting out, the king took him privately into his chamber, and gave him a bag full of powder, which was of such pernicious quality as would cause the death of any one that ate of it. ‘Gaston, my fair nephew,’ said the king, ‘will you do what I am about to tell you? You see how unjustly the Count de Foix hates your mother, who being my sister, it displeases me as much as it should you. If you wish to reconcile your father to your mother, you must take a small pinch of this powder, and, when you see a proper opportunity, strew it over the meat destined for your father’s table; but take care no one sees you. The instant he shall have tasted it, he will be impatient for his wife, your mother, to return to him; and they will love each other henceforward so strongly, they will never again be separated. You ought to be anxious to see this accomplished. Do not tell it to any one; for, if you do, it will lose its effect.’ The youth, who believed every thing his uncle the King of Navarre had told him, replied, he would cheerfully do as he had said; and on this he departed from Pampeluna, on his return to Orthès. His father the Count de Foix received him with pleasure, and asked what was the news in Navarre, and what presents and jewels had been given him; he replied, ‘Very handsome ones,’ and showed them all, except the bag which contained the powder.

“It was customary, in the hotel de Foix, for Gaston and his bastard brother Evan to sleep in the same chamber. They mutually loved each other, and were dressed alike, for they were nearly of the same size and age. It fell out, that their clothes were once mixed together; and, the coat of Gaston being on the bed, Evan, who was malicious enough, noticing the powder in the bag, said to Gaston, ‘What is this that you wear every day on your breast?’ Gaston was not pleased at the question, and replied, ‘Give me back my coat, Evan: you have nothing to do with it.’ Evan flung him his coat, which Gaston put on, but was very pensive the whole day. Three days after, as if God was desirous of saving the life of the Count de Foix, Gaston quarrelled with Evan at tennis, and gave him a box on the ear. The boy was vexed at this, and ran crying to the apartment of the count, who had just heard mass. The count, an seeing him in tears, asked what was the matter. ‘In God’s name, my lord,’ replied Evan, ‘Gaston has beaten me; but he deserves beating much more than I do.’--‘For what reason?’ said the count, who began to have some suspicions. ‘On my faith,’ said Evan, ‘ever since his return from Navarre, he wears on his breast a bag of powder: I know not what use it can be of, nor what he intends to do with it; except that he has once or twice told me, his mother would soon return hither, and be more in your good graces than ever she was.’--‘Ho!’ said the count, ‘hold thy tongue, and be sure thou do not mention what thou hast just told me to any man breathing.’--‘My lord,’ replied the youth, ‘I will obey you.’ The Count de Foix was very thoughtful on this subject, and remained alone until dinner-time, when he rose up, and seated himself as usual at his table in the hall. His son Gaston always placed the dishes before him, and tasted the meats.[33] As soon as he had served the first dish, and done what was usual, the count cast his eyes on him, having formed his plan, and saw the strings of the bag hanging from his pourpoint. This sight made his blood boil, and he said, ‘Gaston, come hither: I want to whisper you something.’ The youth advanced to the table, when the count, opening his bosom, undid his pourpoint, and with his knife cut away the bag. The young man was thunderstruck, and said not a word, but turned pale with fear, and began to tremble exceedingly, for he was conscious he had done wrong. The count opened the bag, took some of the powder, which he strewed over a slice of bread, and, calling a dog to him, gave it him to eat. The instant the dog had eaten a morsel, his eyes rolled round in his head, and he died. The count on this was very wroth, and indeed had reason. Rising from table, he would have struck his son with a knife; but the knights and squires rushed in between them, saying, ‘For God’s sake, my lord, do not be too hasty, but make further inquiries before you do any ill to your son.’ The first words the count uttered were in Gascon: ‘Ho, Gaston, thou traitor! for thee, and to increase thy inheritance which would have come to thee, have I made war, and incurred the hatred of the kings of France, England, Spain, Navarre, and Aragon, and have borne myself gallantly against them; and thou wishest to murder me! Thy disposition must be infamously bad: know therefore thou shalt die with this blow.’ And leaping over the table, with a knife in his hand, he would have slain him; but the knights and squires again interfered, and on their knees said to him with tears, ‘Ah, ah! my lord, for Heaven’s sake, do not kill Gaston: you have no other child. Let him be confined, and inquire further into the business. Perhaps he was ignorant what was in the bag, and may therefore be blameless.’--‘Well,’ replied the count, ‘let him be confined in the dungeon, but so safely guarded that he may be forthcoming.’ The youth was therefore confined in this tower. I will tell you the cause of his death, since I have said so much on the subject. The Count de Foix had caused him to be confined in a room of the dungeon where was little light: there he remained for ten days. He scarcely ate or drank any thing of the food which was regularly brought to him, but threw it aside. The count would not permit any one to remain in the chamber to advise or comfort him: he therefore never put off the clothes he had on when he entered his prison. This made him melancholy, and vexed him, for he did not expect so much harshness: he therefore cursed the hour he was born, and lamented that he should come to such an end. On the day of his death, those who brought him food said, ‘Gaston, here is meat for you.’ He paid not any attention to it, but said, ‘Put it down.’ The person who served him, looking about, saw all the meat untouched that he had brought thither the last days: then, shutting the door, he went to the count, and said, ‘My lord, for God’s sake, look to your son: he is starving himself in his prison. I do not believe he has eaten any thing since his confinement; for I see all that I have carried to him lying on one side untouched.’ On hearing this, the count was enraged, and, without saying a word, left his apartment, and went to the prison of his son. In an evil hour, he had in his hand a knife, with which he had been paring and cleaning his nails; he held it by the blade so closely that scarcely the thickness of a groat appeared of the point, when, pushing aside the tapestry that covered the entrance of the prison, through ill luck, he hit his son on a vein of his throat, as he uttered, ‘Ha, traitor, why dost thou not eat?’ and instantly left the room, without saying or doing any thing more. The youth was much frightened at his father’s arrival, and withal exceedingly weak from fasting. The point of the knife, small as it was, cut a vein, which as soon as he felt he turned himself on one side, and died. The count had barely got back again to his apartment, when the attendants of his son came, and said, ‘My lord, Gaston is dead.’--‘Dead!’ cried the count. ‘Yes, God help me! indeed he is, my lord.’ The count would not believe it, and sent one of his knights to see. The knight, on his return, confirmed the news. The count was now bitterly affected, and cried out, ‘Ha, ha, Gaston! what a sorry business has this turned out for thee and me! In an evil hour didst thou go to visit thy mother in Navarre. Never shall I again enjoy the happiness I had formerly.’ He then ordered his barber to be sent for, and was shaven quite bare. He clothed himself, as well as his whole household, in black. The body of the youth was borne, with tears and lamentations, to the church of the Augustine Friars at Orthès, where it was buried. Thus have I related to you the death of Gaston de Foix: his father killed him indeed, but the King of Navarre was the cause of this sad event.”