Duc de Nemours for the high qualities and valour that were in him,
was most eager to enquire news of him from the late deceased M. de
Rendan[8] at the time when King Francis II did send him to Scotland to
conclude a peace under the walls of Leith,[8] which was then besieged
by the English. And so soon as he had told the Queen at length all the
particulars of that nobleman’s high and noble deeds and merits and
points of gallantry, M. de Rendan, who was no less understanding in
matters of love than of arms, did note in her and in her countenance a
certain sparkle of love or at the least liking, as well as in her words
a very strong desire to see him. Wherefore, fain not to stay her in so
excellent a path, he did what he could to find out from her whether, if
the Duke should come to see her, he would be welcome and well received.
She did assure him this would certainly be so, from which he did
conclude they might very well come to be wed.
Presently being returned to the Court of France from off his embassy,
he did report all the discourse to the King and M. de Nemours.
Whereupon the former did command and urge M. de Nemours to agree to
the thing. This he did with very great alacrity, if he could come into
so fine a Kingdom[9*] by the means of so fair, so virtuous and noble a
Queen.
As a result the irons were soon in the fire. With the good means the
King did put in his hands, the Duke did presently make very great and
magnificent preparations and equipments, both of raiment, horses and
arms, and in fact of all costly and beautiful things, without omitting
aught needful (for myself did see all this) to go and appear before
this fair Princess, above all forgetting not to carry thither with him
all the flower of the young nobility of the Court. Indeed Greffier, the
Court fool, remarking thereupon did say ’twas wondrous how all the gay
_pease blossom_ of the land was going overseas, pointing by this his
jape at the wild young bloods of the French Court.
Meantime M. de Lignerolles, a gentleman of much adroitness and skill,
and at that time an high favourite with M. de Nemours, his master, was
despatched to the said fair Princess, and anon returned bearing a most
gentle answer and one very meet to content him, and cause him to press
on and further hasten his journey. And I remember me the marriage was
held at Court to be as good as made. Yet did we observe how all of a
sudden the voyage in question was broke off short and never made, and
this in spite of a very great expenditure thereon, now all vain and
useless.
Myself could say as well as any man in France what ’twas did lead to
this rupture; yet will I remark thus much only in passing:—It may well
be other loves did more move his heart, and held him more firm a
captive. For truly he was so accomplished in all ways and so skilful in
arms and all good exercises, as that ladies did vie with each other in
running after him. So I have seen some of the most high-spirited and
virtuous women which were ready enough to break their fast of chastity
for him.
We have, in the _Cent Nouvelles_ of Queen Marguerite of Navarre, a
very excellent tale of that lady of Milan,[10*] which having given
assignation to the late M. de Bonnivet, since that day Admiral of
France, one night, did charge her chamber-women to stand with drawn
swords in hand and to make a disturbance on the steps, just as he
should be ready to go to bed. This they did to great effect, following
therein their mistress’ orders, which for her part did feign to be
terrified and sore afraid, crying out ’twas her husband’s brothers
which had noted something amiss, and that she was undone, and that he
should hide under the bed or behind the arras. But M. de Bonnivet,
without the least panic, taking his cloak round the one arm and his
sword in the other hand, said only: “Well, well! where be they, these
doughty brothers, which would fright me or do me hurt? Soon as they
shall see me, they will not so much as dare look at the point of my
sword.” So saying, he did throw open the door and sally forth, but as
he was for charging down the steps, lo! he did find only the women and
their silly noise, which were sore scared at sight of him and began to
scream and confess the whole truth. M. de Bonnivet, seeing what was
toward, did straight leave the jades, commending them to the devil, and
hying him back to the bedchamber, shutteth to the door behind him. Thus
did he betake him to his lady once more, which did then fall a-laughing
and a-kissing of him, confessing how ’twas naught but a trick of her
contriving, and declaring, an if he had played the poltroon and had not
shown his valiance, whereof he had the repute, that he should never
have lain with her. But seeing he had proved him so bold and confident
of heart, she did therefore kiss him and frankly welcome him to her
bed. And all night long ’twere better not to enquire too close what
they did; for indeed she was one of the fairest women in all Milan, and
one with whom he had had much pains to win her over.
I once knew a gallant gentleman, who one day being at Rome to bed with
a pretty Roman lady, in her husband’s absence, was alarmed in like
wise; for she did cause one of her waiting women to come in hot haste
to warn him the husband was hunting round. The lady, pretending sore
amazement, did beseech the gentleman to hide in a closet, else she was
undone. “No, no!” my friend made answer, “I would not do that for all
the world; but an if he come, why! I will kill him.” With this he did
spring to grasp his sword; but the lady only fell a-laughing, and did
confess how she had arranged it all of set purpose to prove him, to see
what he would do, if her husband did threat him with hurt, and whether
he would make a good defence of his mistress.
I likewise knew a very fair lady, who did quit outright a lover
she had, because she deemed him a coward; and did change him for
another, which did in no way resemble him, but was feared and dreaded
exceedingly for his powers of fence, being one of the best swordsmen to
be found in those days.
I have heard a tale told at Court by the old gossips, of a lady which
was at Court, mistress of the late M. de Lorge,[11] that good soldier
and in his younger days one of the bravest and most renowned captains
of foot men of his time. She having heard so much praise given to his
valour, was fain, one day that King Francis the First was showing a
fight of lions at his Court, to prove him whether he was so brave as
folk made out. Wherefore she did drop one of her gloves in the lions’
den, whenas they were at their fiercest; and with that did pray M. de
Lorge to go get it for her, an if his love of her were as great as he
was forever saying. He without any show of surprise, doth take his
cloak on fist and his sword in the other hand, and so boldly forth
among the lions for to recover the glove. In this emprise was fortune
so favourable to him, that seeing he did all through show a good front
and kept the point of his sword boldly presented to the lions, these
did not dare attack him. So after picking up the glove, he did return
toward his mistress and gave it back to her; for the which she and all
the company there present did esteem him very highly. But ’tis said
that out of sheer despite at such treatment, M. de Lorge did quit her
for ever, forasmuch as she had thought good to make her pastime of him
and his valiance in this fashion. Nay! more, they say he did throw the
glove in her face, out of mere despite; for he had rather an hundred
times she had bid him go break up a whole battalion of foot soldiery,
a matter he was duly trained to undertake, than thus to fight beasts,
a contest where glory is scarce to be gained. At any rate suchlike
trials of men’s courage be neither good nor honourable, and they that
do provoke the same are much to be blamed.
I like as little another trick which a certain lady did play her lover.
For when he was offering her his service, assuring her there was never
a thing, be it as perilous as it might, he would not do for her, she
taking him at his word, did reply, “Well! an if you love me so much,
and be as courageous as you say, stab yourself with your dagger in the
arm for the love of me.” The other, who was dying for love of her, did
straight draw his weapon, ready to give himself the blow. However I did
hold his arm and took the dagger from him, remonstrating and saying he
would be a great fool to go about it in any such fashion to prove his
love and courage. I will not name the lady; but the gentleman concerned
was the late deceased M. de Clermont-Tallard the elder,[12*] which
fell at the battle of Montcontour, one of the bravest and most valiant
gentlemen of France, as he did show by his death, when in command of a
company of men-at-arms,—a man I did love and honour greatly.
I have heard say a like thing did once happen to the late M. de Genlis,
the same which fell in Germany, leading the Huguenot troops in the
third of our wars of Religion. For crossing the Seine one day in front
of the Louvre with his mistress, she did let fall her handkerchief,
which was a rich and beautiful one, into the water on purpose, and told
him to leap into the river to recover the same. He, knowing not how to
swim but like a stone, was fain to be excused; but she upbraiding him
and saying he was a recreant lover, and no brave man, without a word
more he did throw himself headlong into the stream, and thinking to get
the handkerchief, would assuredly have been drowned, had he not been
promptly rescued by a boat.
Myself believe that suchlike women, by such trials, do desire in this
wise gracefully to be rid of their lovers, which mayhap do weary them.
’Twere much better did they give them good favours once for all
and pray them, for the love they bear them, to carry these forth to
honourable and perilous places in the wars, and so prove their valour.
Thus would they push them on to greater prowess, rather than make them
perform the follies I have just spoke of, and of which I could recount
an infinity of instances.
This doth remind me, how that, whenas we were advancing to lay siege to
Rouen in the first war of Religion, Mademoiselle de Piennes,[13*] one
of the honourable damsels of the Court, being in doubt as to whether
the late M. de Gergeay was valiant enough to have killed, himself
alone and man to man, the late deceased Baron d’Ingrande, which was
one of the most valiant gentlemen of the Court, did for to prove his
valiance, give him a favour,—a scarf which he did affix to his head
harness. Then, on occasion of the making a reconnaissance of the Fort
of St. Catherine, he did charge so boldly and valiantly on a troop
of horse which had sallied forth of the city, that bravely fighting
he did receive a pistol shot in the head, whereof he did fall stark
dead on the spot. In this wise was the said damsel fully satisfied of
his valour, and had he not been thus killed, seeing he had fought so
well, she would have wedded him; but doubting somewhat his courage,
and deeming he had slain the aforesaid Baron unfairly, for so she did
suspect, she was fain, as she said, to make this visible trial of him.
And verily, although there be many men naturally courageous, yet do the
ladies push the same on to greater prowess; while if they be cold and
cowardly, they do move them to some gallantry and warm them up to some
show of fight.
We have an excellent example hereof in the beautiful Agnes Sorel,[14]
who seeing the King of France Charles VII.[14] deep in love with her,
and recking of naught but to pleasure her, and slack and cowardly
take no heed for his kingdom, did say to him one day, how that when
she was a child, an astrologer had predicted she would be loved and
served of one of the most valiant and courageous kings of Christendom.
Accordingly, whenas the King did her the honour to love her, she did
think he was the valorous monarch which had been predicted for her; but
seeing him so slack, with so little care of his proper business, she
did plainly perceive she was deceived in this, and that the courageous
King intended was not he at all, but the King of England,[14] which did
perform such fine feats of war, and did take so many of his fairest
cities from under his very nose. “Wherefore,” she said to her lover,
“I am away to find him, for of a surety ’tis he the astrologer did
intend.” These words did so sorely prick the King’s heart, as that he
fell a-weeping; and thenceforward, plucking up spirit and quitting his
hunting and his gardens, he did take the bit in his teeth,—and this to
such good effect that by dint of good hap and his own valiance he did
drive the English forth of his Kingdom altogether.
Bertrand du Guesclin[14] having wedded his wife Madame Tiphaine, did
set himself all to pleasure her and so did neglect the management of
the War, he who had been so forward therein afore, and had won him
such praise and glory. But she did upbraid him with this remonstrance,
how that before their marriage folk did speak of naught but him and
his gallant deeds, but henceforth she might well be reproached for
the discontinuance of her husband’s fair deeds and good repute. This
she said was a very great disgrace to her and him, that he had now
grown such a stay-at-home; and did never cease her chiding, till she
had roused in him his erstwhile spirit, and sent him back to the wars,
where he did even doughtier deeds than aforetime.
Thus do we see how this honourable lady did not love so much her
night’s pleasures as she did value the honour of her husband. And of
a surety our wives themselves, though they do find us near by their
side, yet an if we be not brave and valiant, will never really love
us nor keep us by them of good and willing heart; whereas when we be
returned from the wars and have done some fine and noble exploit, then
they do verily and indeed love us and embrace of right good will, and
themselves find the enjoyment most precious.
The fourth daughter of the Comte de Provence,[15*] father-in-law of
St. Louis, and herself wife to Charles, Count of Anjou, brother of the
said King, being sore vexed, high-spirited and ambitious Princess as
she was, at being but plain Countess of Anjou and Provence, and because
she alone of her three sisters, of whom two were Queens and the third
Empress, did bear no better title than that my Lady and Countess, did
never cease till she had prayed, beseeched and importuned her husband
to conquer and get some Kingdom for himself. And they did contrive
so well as that they were chose of Pope Urban to be King and Queen
of the Two Sicilies; and they did away, the twain of them, to Rome
with thirty galleys to be crowned by his Holiness, with all state and
splendour, King and Queen of Jerusalem and Naples, which dominion he
did win afterward, no less by his victorious arms than by the aid his
wife afforded him, selling all her rings and jewels for to provide the
expenses of the war. So thereafter did they twain reign long and not
unpeaceably in the fine kingdoms they had gotten.
Long years after, one of their grand-daughters, issue of them and
theirs, Ysabeau de Lorraine to wit,[16*] without help of her husband
René, did carry out a like emprise. For while her husband was prisoner
in the hands of Charles, Duke of Burgundy, she being a Princess of a
wise prudence and high heart and courage, the Kingdom of Sicily and
Naples having meantime fallen to them in due succession, did assemble
an army of thirty thousand men. This she did lead forth in person, and
so conquer all the Kingdom and take possession of Naples.
3.
I could name an host of ladies which have in suchlike ways done great
and good service to their husbands, and how being high of heart and
ambition they have pushed on and encouraged their mates to court
fortune, and to win goods and grandeur and much wealth. And truly ’tis
the most noble and most honourable fashion of getting of such things,
thus at the sword’s point.
I have known many men in this our land of France and at our Courts,
which really more by the urging of their wives than by any will of
their own, have undertaken and accomplished gallant exploits.
Many women on the other hand have I known, which thinking only of their
own good pleasures, have stood in their husbands’ way and kept the same
ever by their side, hindering them of doing noble deeds, unwilling to
have them find amusement in aught else but in contenting them at the
game of Venus, so keen were they after this sport. I could tell many
a tale hereof, but I should be going too far astray from my subject,
which is a worthier one for sure, seeing it doth handle virtue, than
the other, which hath to do with vice. ’Tis more pleasant by far to
hear tell of such ladies as have pushed on their men to noble deeds.
Nor do I speak solely of married women, but of many others beside,
which by dint of one little favour bestowed, have made their lovers to
do many a fine thing they had never done else. For what a satisfaction
is theirs! what incitement and warming of heart is greater than when
at the wars a man doth think how he is well loved of his mistress, and
if only he do some fine thing for the love of her, what kind looks and
pretty ways, what fair glances, what kissings, delights and joys, he
may hope after to receive of her?
Scipio amongst other rebukes he did administer to Massinissa, when,
all but bloody yet from battle, he did wed Sophonisba, said to him:
how that ’twas ill-becoming to think of ladies and the love of ladies,
when at the wars. He must pardon me here, an if he will; but for my own
part, I ween there is no such great contentment, nor one that giveth
more courage and emulation to do nobly than they. I have travelled in
that country myself in old days. And not only I, but all such, I do
firmly believe, as take the field and fight, do find the same; and
to them I make appeal. I am sure they be all of my opinion, be they
who they may, and that whenas they are embarked on some good warlike
emprise, and presently find themselves in the heat of battle and press
of the foe, their heart doth swell within them as they think on their
ladies, the favours they do carry of them, and the caresses and gentle
welcome they will receive of the same after the war is done, if they
but escape,—and if they come to die, the sore grief they will feel for
love of them and thought of their end. In a word, for the love of their
ladies and fond thoughts of them, all emprises be facile and easy,
the sternest fights be but merry tourneys to them, and death itself a
triumph.
I do remember me how at the battle of Dreux the late M. des
Bordes,[17*] a brave and gentle knight if ever there was one in his
day, being Lieutenant under M. de Nevers, known at the first as the
Comte d’Eu, a most excellent Prince and soldier, when he had to charge
to break up a battalion of foot which was marching straight on the
advanced guard where was the late M. de Guise the Great, and the signal
to charge was given, the said Des Bordes, mounted on a grey barb, doth
start forward instantly, adorned and garnished with a very fine favour
his mistress had given him (I will not name her, but she was one of the
fair and honourable damsels and great ladies of the Court), and as he
gave rein, he did cry: “Ha! I am away to fight valiantly for the love
of my mistress, or to die for her!” And this boast he failed not to
fulfil; for after piercing the six first ranks, he fell at the seventh,
borne down to earth. Now tell me if this lady had not well used her
favour, and if she had aught to reproach her with for having bestowed
it on him!
M. de Bussi again was a young soldier which did as great honour to
his mistresses’ favours as any man of his time, yea! and the favours
of some I know of, which did merit more stricken fields and deeds of
daring and good sword thrusts than did ever the fair Angelica of the
Paladins and Knights of yore, whether Christian or Saracen. Yet have
I heard him often declare that in all the single combats and wars and
general rencounters (for he hath fought in many such) where he hath
ever been engaged, ’twas not so much for the service of his Prince nor
yet for love of success as for the sole honour and glory of contenting
his lady love. He was surely right in this, for verily all the success
in the world and all its ambitions be little worth in comparison of the
love and kindness of a fair and honourable lady and mistress.
And why else have so many brave Knights errant of the Round Table and
so many valorous Paladins of France in olden time undertaken so many
wars and far journeyings, and gone forth on such gallant emprises, if
not for the love of the fair ladies they did serve or were fain to
serve? I do appeal to our Paladins of France, our Rolands, Renauds,
Ogiers, our Olivers, Yvons and Richards, and an host of others. And
truly ’twas a good time and a lucky; for if they did accomplish some
gallant deed for love of their ladies, these same fair ladies, in no
wise ingrate, knew well how to reward them, whenas they hied them back
to meet them, or mayhap would give them tryst there, in the forests and
woodlands, or near some fair fountain or amid the green meadows. And is
not this the guerdon of his doughtiness a soldier most doth crave of
his lady love?
Well! it yet remains to ask, why women do so love these men of
valiance? First, as I did say at the beginning, valour hath in it a
certain force and overmastering power to make itself loved of its
opposite. Then beside, there is a kind of natural inclination doth
exist, constraining women to love great-heartedness, which to be sure
is an hundred times more lovable than cowardice,—even as virtue is
alway more to be desired than vice.
Some ladies there be which do love men thus gifted with valour, because
they imagine that just as they be brave and expert at arms and in the
trade of War, they must be the same at that of Love.
And this rule doth hold really good with some. ’Twas fulfilled for
instance by Cæsar, that champion of the world, and many another gallant
soldier I have known, though I name no names. And such lovers do
possess a very different sort of vigour and charm from rustics and folk
of any other profession but that of arms, so much so that one push of
these same gallants is worth four of ordinary folk. When I say this,
I do mean in the eyes of women moderately lustful, not of such as be
inordinately so, for the mere number is what pleaseth this latter sort.
But if this rule doth hold good sometimes in some of these warlike
fellows, and according to the humour of some women, it doth fail in
others; for some of these valiant soldiers there be so broken down by
the burden of their harness and the heavy tasks of war, that they have
no strength left when they have to come to this gentle game of love, in
such wise that they cannot content their ladies,—of whom some (and many
are of such complexion), had liever have one good workman at Venus’
trade, fresh and ground to a good point, than four of these sons of
Mars, thus broken-winged.
I have known many of the sex of this sort and this humour; for after
all, they say, the great thing is to pass one’s time merrily, and get
the quintessence of enjoyment out of it, without any special choice of
persons. A good man of war is good, and a fine sight on the field of
battle; but an if he can do naught a-bed, they declare, a good stout
lackey, in good case and practice, is every whit as worth having as a
handsome and valiant gentleman,—tired out.
I do refer me to such dames as have made trial thereof, and do so every
day; for the gallant soldier’s loins, be he as brave and valiant as he
may, being broken and chafed of the harness they have so long carried
on them, cannot afford the needful supply, as other men do, which have
never borne hardship or fatigue.
Other ladies there be which do love brave men, whether it be for
husbands or for lovers, to the end these may show good fight and so
better defend their honour and chastity, if any detractors should be
fain to befoul these with ill words. Several such I have seen at Court,
where I knew in former days a very great and a very fair lady[18] whose
name I had rather not give, who being much subject to evil tongues, did
quit a lover, and a very favourite one, she had, seeing him backward to
come to blows and pick a quarrel and fight it out, to take another[18]
instead which was a mettlesome wight, a brave and valiant soul, which
would gallantly bear his lady’s honour on the point of his sword,
without ever a man daring to touch the same in any wise.
Many ladies have I known in my time of this humour, wishful always to
have a brave gallant for their escort and defence. This no doubt is
a good and very useful thing oftentimes for them; but then they must
take good heed not to stumble or let their heart change toward them,
once they have submitted to their domination. For if these fellows do
note the least in the world of their pranks and fickle changes, they do
lead them a fine life and rebuke them in terrible wise, both them and
their new gallants, if ever they change. Of this I have seen not a few
examples in the course of my life.