Still, there were not wanting human touches which paint the character of King Charles VI. in sympathetic colours. In the King’s room at the Castle of Blois is a superb piece of tapestry, among many others, embroidered with the “Story of the Seigneur and Châtelaine de Courrages.” The “_Annales Français_” recount the following narrative: “The Seigneur de Courrages was called upon by the Parliament of Paris to fight in the ‘Lists’ with a certain Knight, Jehan Le Gris, for the honour of his wife, the Dame de Courrages. During the absence of her spouse in the Holy Land, the fair châtelaine gave her favours to an urgent lover, the Seigneur Le Gris, and he made love to her, quite naturally, in return. King Charles VI. was presiding at a tournament, and he noted the presence of the lady in question, but was amazed at her effrontery; for she was seated, superbly attired, in her state chariot, in view of the whole assemblage, whereas the custom of the time should have found her upon her knees in her closet, praying for her good man. The King despatched a herald to the impudent hussy, with a message that ‘it is inconceivable that anyone lying under so grievous a reproach should assume herself to be innocent till such time as that innocence shall have been made apparent.’ The brazen dame was ordered at once to dismount from her carriage and retire to her _manoir_. She was unwilling to bow to the royal command, and, hearing of this, the King sent another messenger, who was instructed to conduct the fair and frail delinquent beneath a scaffold, where she was ordered to cry aloud to God for mercy, and to the King for clemency. In the issue of arms, luckily for her, fortune favoured her husband, who unhorsed his adversary, and, after pinning him to the ground with his sword, compelled him to confess the villainies he had committed with his wife. Then the unfortunate man was hurried off to the scaffold,--beneath which Dame de Courrages was humbly kneeling,--and there and then hung up by the neck by way of justification of his miserable sweetheart.” What happened to the frail woman the chronicler has failed to tell; probably the Seigneur de Courrages took his erring wife home and administered a well-deserved flagellation in the privacy of his bedchamber, and condemned her to a period of imprisonment in the family dungeon upon a spare diet of bread and water! Such was the wholesome discipline for marital infidelity in the days of chivalry!