After the chastisements came galas again, of which the king and his court were immoderately fond.  Young as he was (he was but seventeen), his powerful uncle, the Duke of Burgundy, was very anxious to get him married, so as to secure his own personal influence over him.  The wise Charles V., in his dying hours, had testified a desire that his son should seek alliances in Germany.  A son of the reigning duke, Stephen of Bavaria, had come to serve in the French army, and the Duke of Burgundy had asked him if there were any marriageable princess of Bavaria.  “My eldest brother,” answered the Bavarian, “has a very beautiful daughter, aged fourteen.”  “That is just what we want,” said the Burgundian:  “try and get her over here; the king is very fond of beautiful girls; if she takes his fancy, she will be Queen of France.”  The Duke of Bavaria, being informed by his brother, at first showed some hesitation.  “It would be a great honor,” said he, “for my daughter to be Queen of France; but it is a long way from here.  If my daughter were taken to France, and then sent back to me because she was not suitable, it would cause me too much chagrin.  I prefer to marry her at my leisure, and in my own neighborhood.”  The matter was pressed, however, and at last the Duke of Bavaria consented.  It was agreed that the Princess Isabel should go on a visit to the Duchess of Brabant, who instructed her, and had her well dressed, say the chroniclers, for in Germany they clad themselves too simply for the fashions of France.  Being thus got ready, the Princess Isabel was conducted to Amiens, where the king then was, to whom her portrait had already been shown.  She was presented to him, and bent the knee before him.  He considered her charming.  Seeing with what pleasure he looked upon her, the constable, Oliver de Clisson, said to Sire De Coney, “By my faith, she will bide with us.”  The same evening, the young king said to his councillor, Bureau de la Riviere, “She pleases me:  go and tell my uncle, the Duke of Burgundy, to conclude at once.”  The duke, delighted, lost no time in informing the ladies of the court, who cried, “Noel!” for joy.  The duke had wished the nuptials to take place at Arras; but the young king, in his impatience, was urgent for Amiens, without delay, saying that he couldn’t sleep for her.  “Well, well,” replied his uncle, “you must be cured of your complaint.”  On the 18th of July, 1385, the marriage was celebrated at the cathedral of Amiens, whither the Princess Isabel “was conducted in a handsome chariot, whereof the tires of the wheels were of silvern stuff.”  King, uncles, and courtiers were far from a thought of the crimes and shame which would be connected in France with the name of Isabel of Bavaria.  There is still more levity and imprudence in the marriages of kings than in those of their subjects.