Scott takes advantage of this historical fact to draw one of his matchless pictures, which in color and incident rivals the best pages of his more dramatic romances; and it is here that Count Robert, when the emperor left his throne for a single moment, dismounted from his horse, took the seat of royal purple, and indolently began to caress a large wolf-hound, which had followed him, and which, feeling as much at ease as his master, reposed its grim form on the carpets of gold and silk damask which tapestried the imperial footstool. It was a picture of modern liberty looking worn-out despotism in the face. That sublime audacity revealed the mettle of the race which was to make individual conscience supreme; and his haughty and fearless speech was the prologue of Magna Charta, the Bill of Rights, and the Declaration of Independence. We must pass over the meeting in the garden of Agesilaus, the entertainment at the palace, the drugged cup, the dungeon experience of the count, and his miraculous release, the fortitude and virtue of his Countess Brenhilda, the meeting of the Verangian with Bertha in the garden of the philosopher, the treachery of Briennius, his imprisonment and death-decree, and many other incidents of interest, for the remaining space of this article must be given to a brief consideration of “The Betrothed;” but the reader will be happy to know that, after the conquest of Jerusalem, Count Robert of Paris returned to Constantinople _en route_ to his native kingdom. Upon reaching Italy the marriage of the Verangian and Bertha was celebrated in princely style; and on his return to England a large district, adjacent to the New Forest, near the home of his ancestors, was conferred upon him by William Rufus, where it is presumed they spent their declining years in peace and happiness.