This matter being ended, the duke prepared to make his entrance into the city, which he did in the last days of September with a part of the troops which he had ‘beyond the Arve.’ He found Geneva very different from what he had desired. He had hoped to seize the rebels there, and he found none but slaves. The servile mamelukes cared little for liberty, and were proud to have a master. They called him their ‘most dread lord,’ approached him with base adulation, and, kissing the chains he brought them, assured him that his coming filled them with joy and comfort. The duke, who set little store by such cringing men, thought only how he could become prince of the city, and intrigued to get the sovereign authority handed over to him. His ministers had conceived a plan which promised fairly, and the necessary manœuvres were immediately resorted to. The syndics having appeared before his Highness on the 29th of September (1525), the duke said to them rather abruptly: ‘The expenses and fines imposed on Geneva by my council of Chambéry amount to twenty thousand gold crowns.’ He desired to frighten the Genevans, and induce them to sacrifice their independence in exchange for this debt. But the syndics contented themselves with answering: ‘Monseigneur, the city is poor, and we can only offer you ... our hearts.’ This was not what Charles wanted. The duke’s chancellor, taking the syndics aside, said to them: ‘Come, gentlemen, put yourselves straight, do _something_ to satisfy his Highness.’ The syndics reflected for two or three days, and unable or unwilling to guess what that ‘something’ could be, they said to the vidame, the lawful channel between them and the prince: ‘What does the duke mean?’ The vidame conferred with his master, and appearing before the council on the 10th of October, he said: ‘The duke is vicar-imperial and sovereign of the cities included within his states; Geneva is so included. Why do you not then acknowledge him as your master? Do not be afraid; he is a kind prince; he will respect the authority of the bishop and the franchises of the city, and you will enjoy a prosperity hitherto unknown.’ This was clearer: the Savoyard prince said plainly that he wanted Geneva. The vidame, observing that his hint had been received without enthusiasm, added: ‘If you do not accept the duke willingly, you will be made to accept him by force.’ The servile mamelukes, magnifying the advantages of annexation to so powerful a state, would have granted everything on the spot. The moment was critical: the syndics were uneasy and wavering. On the one hand was the ancient independence of their country; on the other, superior and brute force, which none of them could resist. They referred his Highness’s demand to the episcopal council, which in turn referred it to the prince-bishop in person. Such a reply was already a concession; the politicians of Savoy fancied themselves near their object....