Three years later Charles became insane, and it seemed as if no man was his friend thereafter. Undoubtedly a life of youthful dissipation and a naturally violent temper were the bases of his malady. The provoking causes seem to have been two. Urged by the bishop of Laon Charles had plucked up courage enough definitely to send away his uncles and to undertake to rule with the help of some of his father’s advisers, whom he recalled. One of these men, his Constable, Oliver de Clisson, was foully murdered at a little distance from the Hôtel Saint Paul, a few minutes after he had left a banquet given by the king. When Charles was told of the murder he rushed into the street in his night clothes and heard the name of the assassin, de Craon, from de Clisson’s own lips. The king burned with desire for vengeance. He set out as soon as he could in pursuit of de Craon who was supposed to have fled to Brittany. On an extremely hot day for which the king was unsuitably dressed in a thick black velvet jacket and heavy scarlet velvet cap, there dashed out at him from the roadside an old man, probably half-witted, who kept crying “Go no farther; thou art betrayed.” Charles was much startled by this gruesome warning, and when close upon it a page’s lance fell clattering against some piece of steel equipment he was seized with frenzy, wounded several of his followers, and when he was at last overpowered and taken from his horse, recognized no one. Never again was he wholly sane. There were times of betterment, but never any real mental health. His people loved him--his nickname is Bien-Aimé--as they would a helpless child, but after a while no one except a hired woman took any care of him. His clothes and his person were neglected and he had no medical care. Isabeau deserted him and he had a repugnance for her even when he did not recognize her. At other times he had lucid intervals when he took part in festivities prepared to divert him. It was at the wedding entertainment of a lady of the court, held at the Hôtel Saint Paul where he lived, that he came near being burned to death. He and five of his courtiers were sewed up in tarred skins and were supposed to represent satyrs. Some one, perhaps by accident, perhaps with the desire to get the king out of the way, set fire to these dresses. It was impossible to pull them off. One of the young men threw himself into a tub of water and was saved. The king escaped by being wrapped in the voluminous skirt of his very young aunt-in-law, the duchess of Berri.