[Footnote 1: The author here continues with a long catalogue
of names including some one hundred and fifty other ladies of
the Court, belonging to various noble houses of France.]
But why name any others? No, for my memory could not supply them
all. Indeed, there are so many other ladies and maidens that
I beg of them to excuse me if I pass them by with a stroke of
the pen. Not that I do not hold and esteem them highly, but I
should dream over them and devote myself to them too much. I will
say, to conclude this, that in all this company I can name none
who might be found fault with, for beauty abounded everywhere,
and all was majesty, gentleness and grace. Lucky was the man
who might be touched with the love of such fair ones, and very
lucky he who could escape it. I swear to you that I have named
none who were not very beautiful, agreeable and accomplished,
and so endowed as to fire the whole world with passion. Indeed,
some of them in their zenith did set fire to a good part of it,
including those of us gentlemen of the Court who approached too
close to the flames. Also to many were they sweet, amiable,
favourable, and courteous. I allude now to certain ones of whom
I wish to relate good stories in this book before I have ended
it, and of others who are not included. But all will be told
so quietly and without scandal that none can take offence, for
the curtain of silence will cover their names; so that if any
of them should happen to read stories of themselves they will
not be displeased. For although the pleasures of love cannot
last forever, on account of too many hindrances, accidents and
changes, the memories of past joys delight us none the less.
Now, in order to give proper consideration to them, it would
be necessary to see for oneself all this lovely array of dames
and demoiselles, creatures more divine than human; it would be
necessary to represent them in their entrances into Paris and
other cities, or at the holy and splendid nuptials of the royal
family--such as those of the Dauphin, King Charles, King Henry
III, the King of Spain, Madame de Lorraine, the Queen of Navarre,
as well as other grand weddings of princes and princesses, such
as that of M. de Joyeuse, which would have surpassed them all
if the Queen of Navarre had been present. Nor must we forget
the interview at Bayonne, the Polish embassy, and an infinite
number of similar spectacles which I should never be able to
finish counting, where could be seen an array of these ladies, each
seemingly more beautiful than the rest, and some more handsomely
apparelled than others, since at such festivities, in addition
to their own wealth, the King or the Queen gave them splendid
liveries of different kinds.
In a word, no one ever saw anything finer, more dazzling, attractive,
superb. The glory of Niquée [in the enchanted palace of "Amadis"]
never approached it; for one could see all this glowing in the
ballrooms at the Palace or the Louvre, like the stars of heaven
in the clear sky. The Queen desired and commanded that they should
always appear in lovely and expensive apparel, although she herself,
during her widowhood, never dressed in worldly silks, unless of
subdued tints, but always in good taste and well-fitting, so
that she looked the Queen above all others. It is true that on
the wedding days of her sons Charles and Henry she wore robes
of black velvet, wishing, she said, to solemnise these occasions
in this way beyond all others. But while her husband the King
was alive, she dressed very richly and superbly, and looked the
great lady that she was. It was a privilege to see and admire
her, in the general processions which were held both at Paris
and elsewhere, such as that of the Fête Dieu, and that of Palm
Sunday, carrying palms and torches with such grace, and that of
Candlemas Day, when all carried lighted candles whose flame vied
with their own splendour. In these three processions, which are
the most noteworthy, assuredly one could see nothing but beauty,
grace, noble bearing, stately I marching and fine array--at sight
of which all the bystanders were spellbound.
It was also a fine sight in the earlier days to see the Queen
going about in her litter, or on horseback, when she was attended
by forty or fifty ladies all well mounted on handsome steeds finely
caparisoned and sitting their mounts with such ease that the men
could not exceed them, either in horsemanship or accoutrement.
Their hats were richly decorated with plumes which floated back
in the air seeming to offer a challenge of love or war. Virgil,
who attempted to write of the beautiful apparel of Queen Dido
when she went hunting, does not rival in description the luxury
of our Queen and her ladies, whom I do not wish to displease, as
I have already said.
This Queen, established by the hand of the great King Francis,
who introduced this beautiful pageantry, did not wish to forget
or neglect anything that she ever learned, but always wished to
imitate it, to see if she could surpass it. I have heard her
talk on this subject three or four times. Those who have seen
all the things that I have will feel the same delight of the
soul that I do, for what I say is true and I have seen it myself.
This, then, was the Court of our Queen. How unfortunate was the
day she died! I have heard it related that our present King [Henry
IV], some eighteen months after he saw his prospects brightening
to become King, one day began to talk over with the late Marshal
de Biron the designs and projects which he would set on foot to
make his Court well established, elegant, and closely similar
to that which our Queen maintained; for it was then in the heyday
of its lustre and splendour. The Marshal replied: "It is not in
your power, nor in that of any King who is to succeed, unless
you make a compact with God that He resuscitate the Queen Mother
and bring her back to your aid." But that was not what the King
desired, for there was no one, at the time she died, whom he
hated so much, and without reason that I could see. But he ought
to know better than I.
How unlucky indeed was the day when such a Queen died, and at
the time when we had the greatest need of her, as we still have!
She died at Blois from melancholy over the massacre which occurred
there, and the sad tragedy which was enacted, seeing that
unthinkingly she had caused the princes to come there, thinking
to do the right thing; whereas, on the contrary, as the Cardinal
de Bourbon said to her: "Alas, Madame! you have led us all to
the slaughter, without intending it." That so touched her heart,
and also the death of these poor gentlemen, that she took to
her bed, having been previously ill, and never again rose from
it.
They say that when the King told her of M. de Guise's death,
saying that now he was King indeed, without rival or master,
she asked him if he had put the affairs of his kingdom in order
before striking the blow. He replied that he had. "God grant
it, my son!" said she. Very prudent that she was, she foresaw
clearly what might happen to him and to all the kingdom.
Various reports have gone about concerning her death, some even
saying that it was from poison. Possibly so, possibly not; but
she is believed to have died of despair of soul, as she had reason
for. She was placed upon her bed of state, as I have heard said,
by one of her ladies, in pomp neither more nor less than Queen
Anne, of whom I have spoken elsewhere, and clad in the same royal
vesture, which has not served since her death for any others;
and was then carried into the church of the castle, in the same
pomp and solemnity as at the funeral of Queen Anne, where she
still lies and reposes. The King had wished to carry her body
to Chartres, and thence to Saint Denis, to place it by the side
of the King her husband, in the same imposing vault which he
had caused to be built, but the ensuing war prevented him.
This is what I can say at this time of our great Queen, who has
assuredly given us so worthy a subject to speak in praise of her,
that this brief essay is not long enough to sing her praises.
I know it well, and also that the quality of my mind does not
suffice, since better speakers than I would still be inadequate.
However, such as it is, I lay this discourse in all humility
and devotion at her feet. And also I wish to avoid too great
prolixity, for which indeed I feel myself liable. But I earnestly
hope that in my discourse I shall not defraud her of much, although
I am silent on many things, speaking only of essential matters
and those which her beautiful and unequalled virtues demand of
me; giving me ample material since I have seen all that I write
concerning her; while as for that which took place before my
day, I received it from very illustrious persons.
This queen the mother of so many kings,
And queens as well, within our realm of France,
Died when we needed her in many things,
For none save she could give us such assistance.