, with what countenance he may, on those gems he
had got engraved in the early days of his resentment, "_Souvenez-vous
de--_" Remember! He has killed Polonius, to be sure; but the King is
never a penny the worse.

II

From the battle of Agincourt (Oct. 1415) dates the second period of
Charles's life. The English reader will remember the name of Orleans in
the play of _Henry V._; and it is at least odd that we can trace a
resemblance between the puppet and the original. The interjection, "I
have heard a sonnet begin so to one's mistress" (Act iii. scene 7), may
very well indicate one who was already an expert in that sort of trifle;
and the game of proverbs he plays with the Constable in the same scene
would be quite in character for a man who spent many years of his life
capping verses with his courtiers. Certainly, Charles was in the great
battle with five hundred lances (say, three thousand men), and there he
was made prisoner as he led the van. According to one story, some ragged
English archer shot him down; and some diligent English Pistol, hunting
ransoms on the field of battle, extracted him from under a heap of
bodies and retailed him to our King Henry. He was the most important
capture of the day, and used with all consideration. On the way to
Calais, Henry sent him a present of bread and wine (and bread, you will
remember, was an article of luxury in the English camp), but Charles
would neither eat nor drink. Thereupon Henry came to visit him in his
quarters. "Noble cousin," said he, "how are you?" Charles replied that
he was well. "Why then do you neither eat nor drink?" And then with some
asperity, as I imagine, the young duke told him that "truly he had no
inclination for food." And our Henry improved the occasion with
something of a snuffle, assuring his prisoner that God had fought
against the French on account of their manifold sins and transgressions.
Upon this there supervened the agonies of a rough sea-passage; and many
French lords, Charles certainly among the number, declared they would
rather endure such another defeat than such another sore trial on
shipboard. Charles, indeed, never forgot his sufferings. Long
afterwards, he declared his hatred to a seafaring life, and willingly
yielded to England the empire of the seas, "because there is danger and
loss of life, and God knows what pity when it storms; and sea-sickness
is for many people hard to bear; and the rough life that must be led is
l