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Louis made an equally deep reverence, saying, "Sir my cousin, right welcome; there is no man in the world I could more desire to see than I do you, and praised be God that we are here assembled with such good intent." The King of England answered this speech "in good French enough," says Commynes.
Mémoires de Commynes, liv. vii. ch. xviii. The reader will find the weak points of Byzantine architecture shrewdly seized, and exquisitely sketched, in the opening chapter of the most delightful book of travels I ever opened, Curzon's "Monasteries of the Levant." Selvatico, "Architettura di Venezia," p. 147. Selvatico, p. 221. The older work is of Istrian stone also, but of different quality.
During the night between the 5th and 6th of July, a violent storm burst over the country, "rain, lightnings, and thunder so mighty," says Commynes, "that none could say more; seemed that heaven and earth would dissolve, or that it portended some great disaster to come."
The Chronicles of Froissart are history seen through the eyes of a herald; the Memoirs of PHILIPPE DE COMMYNES are history envisaged by a politician and a diplomatist.
The fair regent, besides, made him a present of a fine black horse, which Commynes calls the best in the world, and which, ten months later, Charles rode at the battle of Fornovo, the only victory he was to gain on retiring from this sorry campaign. On entering the country of the Milanese he did not experience the same feeling of confidence that Piedmont had inspired him with.
Lord Hastings had not always been so scrupulous, for, on the 15th of May, 1471, he had received from the Duke of Burgundy a pension for which he had given an acknowledgment. Another Englishman, whose name is not given by Commynes, waxed wroth at hearing some one say, "Six hundred pipes of wine and a pension given you by the king soon sent you back to England."
"He endured with manly virtue so cruel a sentence," says Commynes, "and everything, even to death, more than any man I ever saw die; he spoke as coolly as if he had never been ill." He gave minute orders about his funeral, sepulchre, and tomb. He would be laid at Notre-Dame de Clery, and not, like his ancestors, at St.
Charles retired to his chamber; and there, without thinking of undressing, he walked to and fro with long strides, threw himself upon his bed, got up again, and soliloquized out loud, addressing himself occasionally to Commynes, who lay close by him. Towards morning, though he still showed signs of irritation, his language was less threatening.
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