DEATH OF LOUIS OF BOURBON,
BISHOP OF LIEGE.
How actual, through the lapse of years,
That scene of death and dread appears.
The maiden shrouded in her veil,
The burghers half resolved, half pale;
And the young archer leant prepared,
With dagger hidden, but still bared—
Are real, as if that stormy scene
In our own troubled life had been.
Such is the magic of the page
That brings again another age.
Such, Scott, the charms thy pages cast,
Oh, mighty master of the past!
THE BISHOP OF LIEGE SLAIN BY ORDER OF WILLIAM DE LA MARCK—p.50.
While Louis of Bourbon proposed terms of accommodation, in a tone as decided as if he still filled the Episcopal throne, and as if the usurper kneeled a suppliant at his feet, the tyrant slowly raised himself in his chair, the amazement with which he was at first filled giving way gradually to rage, until, as the Bishop ceased, he looked to Nikkei Blok, and raised his finger without speaking a word: the ruffian struck, as if he had been doing his office in the common shambles, and the murdered Bishop sunk, without a groan, at the foot of his own episcopal throne.
