"I must inform you that I have heard from the Cardinal and the Duke of Guise, who hope to be here by the end of the month, so the service will be held on the 6th of August, all being well. I beg you will not fail to be present. As for my news, all I have to tell you is that the King is giving me great trouble in Bar, and is trying to raise a tax in the town, which has never been done or thought of before. I fear that in the end I, too, shall have to go to Court, but shall wait until I hear from the Emperor. Can you give me any information as to his movements? All I can hear is that His Majesty is collecting a large army to make war on the Princes of the Empire, who have rebelled against him. I pray God to help him, and send him success and prosperity, and have good hope that my prayers will be heard, as this will be for the good of Christendom. Here I will end, Monsieur de Luxeuil, praying God to have you in His holy keeping. "La bien votre, "CHRESTIENNE."[385] The coming of the Guises, however, was again delayed, and the funeral did not take place until the 17th of August. On the previous day the Duke's corpse was brought from Denœuvre to Nancy by the great officers of State, and laid on a bier in the Church of St. George's, surrounded by lighted torches and a guard of armed men, who kept watch all night. The funerals of the Dukes of Lorraine had always been famous for their magnificence, and there was an old proverb which said: "Fortunate is the man who has seen the coronation of an Emperor, the sacring of a King of France, and the funeral of a Duke of Lorraine."[386] On this occasion nothing that could heighten the imposing nature of the ceremony was neglected. All the Princes of the blood, Nicolas of Vaudemont, the Duke of Guise with his five sons and grandson, rode out from the ducal palace to the Church of St. Georges, and took their places, as chief mourners, at the head of the long procession that wound through the streets to the Cordeliers' shrine. In their train came a multitude of clergy, nobles, and Ambassadors from all the crowned heads in Europe, followed by a motley crowd of burghers and humble folk, all in deep mourning, with torches in their hands. The chariot bearing the coffin was drawn by twelve horses, draped with black velvet adorned with the cross of Lorraine in white satin. The Duke's war-horse, in full armour, was led by two pages, while the servants of his household walked bareheaded on either side, with folded arms, in token that their master needed their services no more. On the hearse lay an image of the dead Prince, with the ducal baton in his hand, clad in crimson robes and a mantle of gold brocade fastened with a diamond clasp. This effigy was placed on a huge catafalque erected in