Francis’ anxiety, yet did she not drive forth every grain of suspicion
from out his head, as I have reason to know. I do remember me how once,
making a visit to Chambord to see the castle, an old porter that was
there, who had been body servant to King Francis, did receive me very
obligingly. For in his earlier days he had known some of my people both
at Court and in the field, and was of his own wish anxious to show me
everything. So having led me to the King’s bed-chamber, he did show
me a phrase of writing by the side of the window on the left hand.
“Look, Sir!” he cried, “read yonder words. If you have never seen the
hand-writing of the King, mine old master, there it is.” And reading
it, we found this phrase, “_Toute femme varie_,” writ there in large
letters. I had with me a very honourable and very able gentleman of
Périgord, my friend, by name M. des Roches, to whom I turned and said
quickly: “’Tis to be supposed, some of the ladies he did love best,
and of whose fidelity he was most assured, had been found of him to
_vary_ and play him false. Doubtless he had discovered some change in
them that was scarce to his liking, and so, in despite, did write these
words.” The porter overhearing us, put in: “Why! surely, surely! make
no mistake, for of all the fair dames I have seen and known, never a
one but did cry off on a false scent worse than ever his hunting pack
did in chasing the stag; yet ’twas with a very subdued voice, for an if
he had noted it, he would have brought ’em to the scent again pretty
smartly.”
They were, ’twould seem, of those women, which can never be content
with either their husbands or their lovers, Kings though they be, and
Princes and great Lords; but must be ever chopping and changing. Such
this good King had found them by experience to be, having himself first
debauched the same and taken them from the charge of their husbands or
their mothers, tempting them from their maiden or widowed estate.
I have both known and heard speak of a lady,[135*] so fondly loved
of her Prince, as that for the mighty affection he bare her, he did
plunge her to the neck in all sorts of favours, benefits and honours,
and never another woman was to be compared with her for good fortune.
Natheless was she so enamoured of a certain Lord, she would never quit
him. Then whenas he would remonstrate and declare to her how the Prince
would ruin both of them, “Nay! ’tis all one,” she would answer; “an if
you leave me, I shall ruin myself, for to ruin you along with me. I had
rather be called your concubine than this Prince’s mistress.” Here you
have woman’s caprice surely, and wanton naughtiness to boot! Another
very great lady I have known, a widow, did much the same; for albeit
she was all but adored of a very great nobleman, yet must she needs
have sundry other humbler lovers, so as never to lose an hour of her
time or ever be idle. For indeed one man only cannot be always at work
and afford enough in these matters; and the rule of love is this, that
a passionate woman is not for one stated time, nor yet for one stated
person alone, nor will confine her to one passion,—reminding me of that
dame in the _Cent Nouvelles_ of the Queen of Navarre, which had three
lovers all at once, and was so clever she did contrive to manage them
all three most adroitly.
The beautiful Agnes Sorel, the adored mistress of King Charles VII.,
was suspected by him of having borne a daughter that he thought not to
be his, nor was he ever able to recognize her. And indeed, like mother,
like daughter, was the word, as our Chroniclers do all agree. The same
again did Anne Boleyn, wife of King Henry VIII. of England, whom he did
behead for not being content with him, but giving herself to adultery.
Yet had he chose her for her beauty, and did adore her fondly.
I knew another lady which had been loved by a very honourable
gentleman, but after some while left by him; and one day it happened
that these twain fell to discussing their former loves. The gentleman,
who was for posing as a dashing blade, cried, “Ha! ha! and think you,
you were my only mistress in those days? You will be much surprised
to hear, I had two others all the while, would you not?” To this she
answered on the instant, “You would be yet more surprised, would you
not? to learn you were anything but mine only lover then, for I had
actually three beside you to fall back on.” Thus you see how a good
ship will always have two or three anchors for to ensure its safety
thoroughly.
To conclude,—love is all in all for women, and so it should be! I will
only add how once I found in the tablets of a very fair and honourable
lady which did stammer a little Spanish, but did understand the same
language well enough, this little maxim writ with her own hand, for
I did recognize it quite easily: _Hembra o dama sin compagnero,
esperanza sin trabajo, y navio sin timon; nunca pueden hazer cost que
sea buena_,—“Man or woman without companion, hope without work, or
ship without rudder, will never do aught good for much.” ’Tis a saying
equally true for wife, widow and maid; neither one nor the other can
do aught good without the company of a man, while the hope a lover
hath of winning them is not by itself near so like to gain them over
readily as with something of pains and hard work added, and some strife
and struggle. Yet doth not either wife or widow give so much as a maid
must, for ’tis allowed of all to be an easier and simpler thing to
conquer and bring under one that hath already been conquered, subdued
and overthrown, than one that hath never yet been vanquished,—and that
far less toil and pains is spent in travelling a road already well worn
and beaten than one that hath never been made and traced out,—and for
the truth of these two instances I do refer me to travellers and men of
war. And so it is with maids; indeed there be even some so capricious
as that they have always refused to marry, choosing rather to live
ever in maidenly estate. But an if you ask them the reason, “’Tis so,
because my humour is to have it so,” they declare. Cybelé, Juno, Venus,
Thetis, Ceres and other heavenly goddesses, did all scorn this name
of virgin,—excepting only Pallas, which did spring from her father
Jupiter’s brain, hereby showing that virginity is naught but a notion
conceived in the brain. So, ask our maids, which will never marry, or
an if they do, do so as late as ever they can, and at an over ripe age,
why they marry not, “’Tis because I do not wish,” they say; “such is my
humour and my notion.”
Several such we have seen at the Court of our Princes in the days
of King Francis. The Queen Regent had a very fair and noble maid of
honour, named Poupincourt,[136*] which did never marry, but died a maid
at the age of sixty, as chaste as when she was born, for she was most
discreet. La Brelandière again died a maid and virgin at the ripe age
of eighty, the same which was governess of Madame d’Angoulême as a girl.
I knew another maid of honour of very great and exalted family, and
at the time seventy years of age, which would never marry,—albeit she
was no wise averse to love without marriage. Some that would fain
excuse her for that she would not marry, used to aver she was meet to
be no husband’s wife, seeing she had no affair at all. God knoweth the
truth! but at any rate she did find a good enough one to have good fun
elsewhere withal. A pretty excuse truly!
Mademoiselle de Charansonnet, of Savoy, died at Tours lately, a maid,
and was interred with her hat and her white virginal robe, very
solemnly, with much pomp, stateliness and good company, at the age of
forty-five or over. Nor must we doubt in her case, ’twas any defect
which stood in the way, for she was one of the fairest, most honourable
and most discreet ladies of the Court, and myself have known her to
refuse very excellent and very high-born suitors.
Mine own sister, Mademoiselle de Bourdeille, which is at Court maid of
honour of the present Queen, hath in like wise refused very excellent
offers, and hath never consented to marry, nor never will. So firm
resolved is she and obstinate to live and die a maid, no matter to
what age she may attain; and indeed so far she hath kept steady to her
purpose, and is already well advanced in years.
Mademoiselle de Certan,[137*] another of the Queen’s maids of honour,
is of the same humour, as also Mademoiselle de Surgières, the most
learned lady of the Court, and therefore known as _Minerva_,—and not a
few others.
The Infanta of Portugal, daughter of the late Queen Eleanor, I have
seen of the same resolved mind; and she did die a maid and virgin at
the age of sixty or over. This was sure from no want of high birth, for
she was well born in every way, nor of wealth, for she had plenty, and
above all in France, where General Gourgues did manage her affairs to
much advantage, nor yet of natural gifts, for I did see her at Lisbon,
at the age of five and forty, a very handsome and charming woman, of
good and graceful appearance, gentle, agreeable, and well deserving
an husband her match in all things, in courtesy and the qualities we
French do most possess. I can affirm this, from having had the honour
of speaking with this Princess often and familiarly.
The late Grand Prior of Lorraine, when he did bring his galleys from
East to West of the Mediterranean Sea on his voyage to Scotland, in
the time of the minority of King Francis II., passing by Lisbon and
tarrying there some days, did visit and see her every day. She did
receive him most courteously and took great delight in his company,
loading him with fine presents. Amongst others, she gave him a chain
to suspend his cross withal, all of diamonds and rubies and great
pearls, well and richly worked; and it might be worth from four to
five thousand crowns, going thrice round his neck. I think it might
well be worth that sum, for he could always pawn it for three thousand
crowns, as he did one time in London, when we were on our way back from
Scotland. But no sooner was he returned to France than he did send to
get it out again, for he did love it for the sake of the lady, with
whom he was no little captivated and taken. And I do believe she was
no less fond of him, and would willingly have unloosed her maiden knot
for him,—that is by way of marriage, for she was a most discreet and
virtuous Princess. I will say more, and that is, that but for the early
troubles that did arise in France, into the which his brothers did draw
him and kept him engaged therein, he would himself have brought his
galleys back and returned the same road, for to visit this Princess
again and speak of wedlock with her. And I ween he would in that case
have hardly been shown the door, for he was of as good an house as
she, and descended of great Kings no less than she, and above all was
one of the handsomest, most agreeable, honourable and best Princes of
Christendom. Now for his brothers, in particular the two eldest, for
these were the oracles of the rest and captains of the ship, I did one
day behold them and him conversing of the matter, the Cardinal telling
them of his voyage and the pleasures and favours he had received at
Lisbon. They were much in favour of his making the voyage once more and
going back thither again, advising him to pursue his advantage in that
quarter, as the Pope would at once have given him dispensation of his
religious orders. And but for those accursed troubles I have spoke of,
he would have gone, and in mine opinion the emprise had turned out to
his honour and satisfaction. The said Princess did like him well, and
spake to me of him very fondly, asking me as to his death,—quite like a
woman in love, a thing easily enough perceived in such circumstances by
a man of a little penetration.
I have heard yet another reason alleged by a very clever person, I say
not whether maid or wife,—and she had mayhap had experience of the
truth thereof,—why some women be so slow to marry. They declare this
tardiness cometh _propter mollitiem_, “by reason of luxuriousness.”
Now this word _mollities_ doth mean, they be so luxurious, that is to
say so much lovers of their own selves and so careful to have tender
delight and pleasure by themselves and in themselves, or mayhap with
their bosom friends, after the Lesbian fashion, and do find such
gratification in female society alone, as that they be convinced and
firmly persuaded that with men they would never win such satisfaction.
Wherefore they be content to go without these altogether in their
joys and toothsome pleasures, without ever a thought of masculine
acquaintance or marriage.
Maids and virgins would seem in old days at Rome to have been highly
honoured and privileged, so much so that the law had no jurisdiction
over them to sentence them to death. Hence the story we read of a
Roman Senator in the time of the Triumvirate, which was condemned to
die among other victims of the Proscription, and not he alone, but all
the offspring of his loins. So when a daughter of his house did appear
on the scaffold, a very fair and lovely girl, but of unripe years and
yet virgin, ’twas needful for the executioner to deflower her himself
and take her maidenhead on the scaffold, and only then when she was so
polluted, could he ply his knife upon her. The Emperor Tiberius did
delight in having fair virgins thus publicly deflowered, and then put
to death,—a right villainous piece of cruelty, pardy!
The Vestal Virgins in like manner were greatly honoured and respected,
no less for their virginity than for their religious character; for
indeed, an if they did show any the smallest frailty of bodily purity,
they were an hundred times more rigorously punished than when they had
failed to take good heed of the sacred fire, and were buried alive
under the most pitiful and terrible circumstances. ’Tis writ of one
Albinus, a Roman gentleman, that having met outside Rome some Vestals
that were going somewhither a-foot, he did command his wife and
children to descend from her chariot, to set them in it and so complete
their journey. Moreover they had such weight and authority, as that
very often they were trusted as umpires to make peace betwixt the Roman
people and the Knights, when troubles did sometimes arise affecting
the two orders. The Emperor Theodosius did expel them from Rome under
advice of the Christians; but in opposition to the said Emperor the
Romans did presently depute one Symmachus, to beseech him to restore
them again, with all their wealth, incomings and privileges as before.
These were exceedingly great, and indeed every day they were used to
distribute so great a store of alms, as that neither native Roman nor
stranger, coming or going, was ever suffered to ask an alms, so copious
was their pious charity toward all poor folk. Yet would Theodosius
never agree to bring them back again.
They were named Vestals from the Latin word _vesta_, signifying fire,
the which may well turn and twist, shoot and sparkle, yet doth it
never cast seed, nor receive the same,—and so ’tis with a virgin. They
were bound so to remain virgins for thirty years, after which they
might marry; but few of them were fortunate in so leaving their first
estate, just like our own nuns which have cast off the veil and quitted
the religious habit. They kept much state and went very sumptuously
dressed,—of all which the poet Prudentius doth give a pleasing
description, being apparently much in the condition of our present
Lady Canonesses of Mons in Hainault and Réaumond in Lorraine, which be
permitted to marry after. Moreover this same Prudentius doth greatly
blame them because they were used to go abroad in the city in most
magnificent coaches, correspondingly attired, and to the Amphitheatres
to see the games of the Gladiators and combats to the death betwixt men
and men, and men and wild beasts, as though finding much delight in
seeing folk thus kill each other and shed blood. Wherefore he doth pray
the Emperor to abolish these sanguinary contests and pitiful spectacles
altogether. The Vestals at any rate should never behold suchlike
barbarous sports; though indeed they might say for their part: “For
lack of other more agreeable sports, the which other women do see and
practise, we must needs content us with these.”
As for the estate of widows in many cases, there be many which do love
just as soberly as these Vestals, and myself have known several such;
but others again would far fainer take their joy in secret with men,
and in the fullness of complete liberty, rather than subject to them
in the bonds of marriage. For this reason, when we do see women long
preserve their widowhood, ’tis best not over much to praise them as we
might be inclined to do, till we do know their mode of life, and then
only, according to what we have learned thereof, either to extol them
most highly or scorn them. For a woman, when she is fain to unbend her
severity, as the phrase is, is terribly wily, and will bring her man
to a pretty market, an if he take not good heed. And being so full of
guile, she doth well understand how to bewitch and bedazzle the eyes
and wits of men in such wise they can scarce possibly recognize the
real life they lead. For such or such an one they will mistake for a
perfect prude and model of virtue, which all the while is a downright
harlot, but doth play her game so cunningly and furtively none can ever
discover aught.
I have known a great Lady in my time, which did remain a widow more
than forty years, so acting all the while as to be esteemed the most
respectable woman in country or Court, yet was she _sotto coverto_
(under the rose) a regular, downright harlot. So featly had she
followed the trade by the space of five and fifty years, as maid, wife
and widow, that scarce a suspicion had she roused against her at the
age of seventy, when she died. She did get full value of her privileges
as a woman; one time, when a young widow, she fell in love with a
certain young nobleman, and not able otherwise to get him, she did come
one Holy Innocents’ day into his bed-chamber, to give him the usual
greetings. But the young man gave her these readily enough, and with
something else than the customary instrument. She had her dose,—and
many another like it afterward.[138*]
Another widow I have known, which did keep her widowed estate for fifty
years, all the while wantoning it right gallantly, but always with the
most prudish modesty of mien, and many lovers at divers times. At the
last, coming to die, one she had loved for twelve long years, and had
had a son of him in secret, of this man she did make so small account
she disowned him completely. Is not this a case where my word is
illustrated, that we should never commend widows over much, unless we
know thoroughly their life and life’s end?
But at this rate I should never end; and an end we must have. I am well
aware sundry will tell me I have left out many a witty word and merry
tale which might have still better embellished and ennobled this my
subject. I do well believe it; but an if I had gone on so from now to
the end of the world, I should never have made an end; however if any
be willing to take the trouble to do better, I shall be under great
obligation to the same.
* * * * *
Well! dear ladies, I must e’en draw to an end; and I do beg you pardon
me, an if I have said aught to offend you. ’Tis very far from my
nature, whether inborn or gotten by education, to offend or displeasure
you in any wise. In what I say of women, I do speak of some, not of
all; and of these, I do use only false names and garbled descriptions.
I do keep their identity so carefully hid, none may discover it, and
never a breath of scandal can come on them but by mere conjecture and
vague suspicion, never by certain inference.
I fear me ’tis only too likely I have here repeated a second time
sundry witty sayings and diverting tales I have already told before in
my other Discourses. Herein I pray such as shall be so obliging as to
read all my works, to forgive me, seeing I make no pretence to being
a great Writer or to possess the retentive memory needful to bear all
in mind. The great Plutarch himself doth in his divers Works repeat
several matters twice over. But truly, they that shall have the task
of printing my books, will only need a good corrector to set all this
matter right.
[Illustration: Decorative scrollwork above chapter start]
NOTES
[1] P. 3:
◆At first this discourse was the last; it is outlined in the
manuscript 608 as follows: “Discourse on why beautiful and faithful
women love valiant men, and why worthy men love courageous women.”
[2] P. 5:
◆Virgil, in his Æneid (Bk. I), makes Penthesileia appear only after
Hector’s death. For these accounts on the Amazons, consult _Traité
historique sur les Amazones_, by Pierre Petit, Leyde, 1718.
[3] P. 6:
◆See Boccaccio, _De Claris Mulieribus_.
◆Æneid, IV., 10–13.
[4] P. 8:
◆A Latin work of Boccaccio in nine books.
◆Bk. IX., Chap. 3.
[5] P. 9:
◆_Nouvelle_, 1554–1574.
◆Bandello, t. III., p. 1 (Venice, 1558).
[6] P. 11:
◆The Duc d’Anjou, afterwards Henri III. of France, is meant. He was
the third son of Henri II. and Catherine de Medici, and was born at
Fontainebleau 1551. On the death of his brother Charles IX. in 1574
he succeeded to the throne. Died 1589. The victories referred to
are those of Jarnac and Montcontour.
[7] P. 12:
◆Ronsard, _Œuvres_, liv. 1, 174th sonnet.
[8] P. 13:
◆“Petit-Lit” is Leith,—the port of Edinburgh, on the Firth of Forth.
The English army under Lord Grey of Wilton invaded Scotland in
1560, and laid siege to Leith, then occupied by the French. The
place was stubbornly defended, but must soon have fallen, when
envoys were sent by Francis II. from France to conclude a peace.
These were Monluc, Bishop of Valence, and the Sieur de Rendan
mentioned in the text; the negotiators appointed to meet them on
the English side were the Queen’s great minister Cecil and Wotton,
Dean of Canterbury. The French troops were withdrawn.
◆The little Leith. (Cf. Jean de Beaugué, _Histoire de la guerre
d’Ecosse_, reprinted by Montalembert in 1862, Bordeaux.)
◆Jacques de Savoie, Duke de Nemours, died in 1585.
◆Charles de La Rochefoucauld, Count de Randan, was sent to England in
1559, where he arranged peace with Scotland.
[9] P. 14:
◆An imaginary king without authority.
◆Philibert le Voyer, lord of Lignerolles and of Bellefllle, was
frequently employed as a diplomatic agent. He was in Scotland
in 1567. He was assassinated at Bourgueil in 1571, because he
was suspected of betraying Charles IX.’s avowal regarding Saint
Bartholomew.
◆Brantôme knew quite well that the woman the handsome and alluring
Duke de Nemours truly loved was no other than Mme. de Guise, Anne
d’Este, whom he later married.
[10] P. 15:
◆XVIth Tale. Guillaume Gouffier, lord of Bonnivet.
◆Marguerite de Valois took Bussy d’Amboise partly because of his
reputation as a duellist.
[11] P. 17:
◆Jacques de Lorge, lord of Montgomerie, captain of Francis I.’s
Scotch Guard and father of Henri II.’s involuntary murderer.
[12] P. 18:
◆Claude de Clermont, Viscount de Tallard.
◆François de Hangest, lord of Genlis, captain of the Louvre, who died
of hydrophobia at Strassburg in 1569.
[13] P. 19:
◆It is undoubtedly Louise de Halwin, surnamed Mlle. de Piennes the
Elder, who later married Cipier of the Marcilly family.
◆It is to this feminine stimulation that King Francis I. alluded
in the famous quatrain in the Album of Aix, which is rightly or
wrongly attributed to him.
[14] P. 20:
◆Agnès Sorel, or Soreau, the famous mistress of Charles VII., was
daughter of the Seigneur de St. Gérard, and was born at the village
of Fromenteau in Touraine in 1409. From a very early age she was
one of the maids of honour of Isabeau de Lorraine, Duchess of
Anjou, and received every advantage of education. Her wit and
accomplishments were no less admired than her beauty.
She first visited the Court of France in the train of this latter
Princess in 1431, where she was known by the name of the
_Demoiselle_ de Fromenteau, and at once captivated the young King’s
heart. She appeared at Paris in the Queen’s train in 1437, but was
intensely unpopular with the citizens, who attributed the wasteful
expenditure of the Court and the misfortunes of the Kingdom to her.
Whatever may be the truth of Brantôme’s tale of the astrologer,
there is no doubt as to her having exerted her influence to rouse
the King from the listless apathy he had fallen into, and the idle,
luxurious life he was leading in his Castle of Chinon, while the
English were still masters of half his dominions.
She was granted many titles and estates by her Royal lover,—amongst
others the castle of Beauté, on the Marne, whence her title of La
Dame de Beauté, and that of Loches, in the Abbey Church of which
she was buried on her sudden death in 1450, and where her tomb
existed down to 1792.
◆Charles VII., son of the mad Charles VI., born 1403, crowned at
Poitiers 1422, but only consecrated at Reims in 1429, after the
capture of Orleans and the victories due to Jeanne d’Arc. The
adversary of the Burgundians and the English under the Duke of
Bedford and Henry V. of England. Died 1461.
◆Henry V. of England, reigned, 1413–1422.