book I
have named.[130*]
Here we see how ’tis not only of to-day that fair ladies do love pages, above all when they be gay and speckled like partridges. And verily, what creatures women be!—that be ready enough to have lovers galore, but husbands not! This they do for the love of freedom, which is indeed a noble thing. For they think, when once they be out of their husband’s rule, they are in Paradise, having their fine dower and spending it themselves, managing all the household, and handling the coin. All goeth through their hands; and instead of being servants, they be now mistresses, and do make free choice of their pleasures, and such as do best minister to the same.
Others again there be, which do surely hate the notion of making a second marriage, from distaste to lose their rank and dignity, their goods, riches and honours, their soft and luxurious living, and for this cause do restrain their passions. So have I known and heard speak of not a few great dames and Princesses, which from mere dread of their failing to find again the grandeurs of their first match, and so losing rank, would never marry again. Not that they did cease therefor one whit to follow after love and turn the same to their joy and delight,—yet all the while never losing their rank and dignity, their stools of state and honourable seats in Queens’ chambers and elsewhere. Lucky women, to enjoy their grandeur and mount high, yet abase them low, at one and the same time! But to say a word of reproach or remonstrance to them, never dream no such thing! Else no end would there be of anger and annoyance, denials and protestations, contradiction and revenge.
I have heard a tale told of a widow lady, and indeed I knew her myself, which had long enjoyed the love of an honourable gentleman, under pretext she would marry him; but he did in no wise make himself obtrusive. A great Princess, the lady’s mistress, was for reproaching her for her conduct. But she, wily and corrupt, did answer her: “Nay! Madam, but should it be denied us to love with an honourable love? surely that were too cruel.” Only God knoweth, this love she called honourable, was really a most lecherous passion. And verily all loves be so; they be born all pure, chaste and honourable, but anon do lose their maidenhead, so to speak, and by magic influence of some philosopher’s stone, be transformed into base metal, and grow dishonourable and lecherous.
The late M. de Bussy, who was one of the wittiest talkers of his time, and no less pleasing as a story-teller, one day at Court seeing a great lady, a widow, and of ripe years, who did still persist in her amorous doings, did exclaim: “What! doth this hackney yet frequent the stallion?” The word was repeated to the lady, which did vow mortal hate against the offender. On M. de Bussy’s learning this, “Well, well!” he said, “I know how to make my peace, and put this all right. Prithee, go tell her I said not so, but that this is what I really said, ‘Doth this _filly_[131] yet go to be mounted? For sure I am she is not wroth because I take her for a light o’ love, but for an old woman; and when she hears I called her filly, that is to say a young mare, she will suppose I do still esteem her a young woman.’” And so it was; for the lady, on hearing this change and improvement in the wording, did relax her anger and made it up with M. de Bussy; whereat we did all have a good laugh. Yet for all she might do, she was always deemed an old, half-foundered jade, that aged as she was, still went whinnying after the male.
This last was quite unlike another lady I have also heard tell of, who having been a merry wench in her earlier days, but getting well on in years, did set her to serve God with fast and prayer. An honourable gentleman remonstrating and asking her wherefore she did make such long vigils at Church and such severe fasts at table, and if it were not to vanquish and deaden the stings of the flesh, “Alas!” said she, “these be all over and done with for me.” These words she did pronounce as piteously as ever spake Milo of Croton, that strong and stalwart wrestler of old, (I have told the tale elsewhere, methinks), who having one day gone down into the arena, or wrestlers’ ring, but only for to view the game, for he was now grown very old, one of the band coming up to him did ask, an if he would not try yet a fall of the old sort. But he, baring his arms and right sadly turning back his sleeves, said only, gazing the while at his muscles and sinews: “Alas! they be dead now.”
Another like incident did happen to a gentleman I wot of, similar to the tale I have just told of M. de Bussy. Coming to Court, after an absence of six months, he there beheld a lady which was used to attend the academy, lately introduced at Court by the late King. “Why!” saith he, “doth the academy then still exist? I was told it had been abolished.”—“Can you doubt,” a courtier answered him, “her attendance? Why! her master is teaching her philosophy, which doth speak and treat of perpetual motion.” And in good sooth, for all the beating of brains these same philosophers do undergo, to discover perpetual motion, yet is there none more surely so than the motion Venus doth teach in _her_ school.
A lady of the great world did give even a better answer of another, whose beauty they were extolling highly, only that her eyes did ever remain motionless, she never turning the same one way or the other. “We must suppose,” she said, “all her care doth go to move other portions of her body, and so hath she none to spare for her eyes.”
However, an if I would put down in writing all the witty words and good stories I know, to fill out my matter, I should never get me done. And so, seeing I have other subjects to attack, I will desist, and finish with this saying of Boccaccio, already cited above, namely, that women, maids, wives and widows alike, at least the most part of them, be one and all inclined to love. I have no thought to speak of common folk, whether in country or in town, for such was never mine intention in writing, but only of well-born persons, in whose service my pen is aye ready to run nimbly. But for mine own part, if I were asked my true opinion, I should say emphatically there is naught like married women, all risk and peril on their husbands’ side apart, for to win good enjoyment of love withal, and to taste quick the very essence of its delights. The fact is their husbands do heat them so, they be like a furnace, continually poked and stirred, that asks naught but fuel, water and wood or charcoal to keep up its heat for ever. And truly he that would have a good light, must always be putting more oil in the lamp. At the same time let him beware of a foul stroke, and those ambushes of jealous husbands wherein the wiliest be oft times caught![132*]
Yet is a man bound to go as circumspectly as he may, and as boldly to boot, and do like the great King Henri, who was much devoted to love, but at the same time exceeding respectful toward ladies, and discreet, and for these reasons much loved and well received of them. Now whenever it fell out that this monarch was changing night quarters and going to sleep in the bed of a new mistress, which expecting him, he would never go thither (as I learn on very good authority) but by the secret galleries of Saint-Germain, Blois or Fontainebleau, and the little stealthy back-stairs, recesses and garrets of his castles. First went his favourite valet of the chamber, Griffon by name, which did carry his boar-spear before him along with the torch, and the King next, his great cloak held before his face or else his night-gown, and his sword under his arm. Presently, being to bed with the lady, he would aye have his spear and sword put by the bed’s-head, the door well shut, and Griffon guarding it, watching and sleeping by turns. Now I leave it to you, an if a great King did give such heed to his safety (for indeed there have been some caught, both kings and great princes,—for instance the Duc de Fleurance Alexandre in our day), what smaller folks should do, following the example of this powerful monarch. Yet there are to be found proud souls which do disdain all precaution; and of a truth they be often trapped for their pains.
I have heard a tale related of King Francis, how having a fair lady as mistress,[133*] a connection that had long subsisted betwixt them, and going one day unexpectedly to see the said lady, and to sleep with her at an unusual hour, ’gan knock loudly on the door, as he had both right and might to do, being the master. She, who was at the moment in company of the Sieur de Bonnivet, durst not give the reply usual with the Roman courtesans under like circumstances, _Non si puo, la signora è accompagnata_,—“You cannot come in; Madam has company with her.” In this case the only thing to do was to devise quick where her gallant could be most securely hid. By good luck ’twas summer time, so they had put an heap of branches and leaves in the fire-place, as the custom is in France. Accordingly she did counsel and advise him to make at once for the fire-place, and there hide him among the leafage, all in his shirt as he was,—and ’twas a fortunate thing for him it was not winter. After the King had done his business with the lady, he was fain to make water; so getting up from the bed, he went to the fire-place to do so, for lack of other convenience. And so sore did he want to, that he did drown the poor lover worse than if a bucket of water had been emptied over him, for he did water him thoroughly, as with a garden watering-pot, all round and about, and even over the face, eyes, nose, mouth and everywhere; albeit by tight shut lips he may have escaped all but a drop or so in his chops. I leave you to fancy what a sorry state the poor gentleman was in, for he durst not move, and what a picture of patience and grim endurance he did present! The King having done, withdrew, and bidding his mistress farewell, left the chamber. The lady had the door immediately shut behind him, and calling her lover into her, did warm the poor man, giving him a clean shift to put on. Nor was it without some fun and laughter, after the fright they had had; for an if he had been discovered, both he and she had been in very serious peril.
’Twas the same lady, which being deep in love with this M. de Bonnivet, and desiring to convince the King of the contrary, for that he had conceived some touch of jealousy on the subject, would say thus to him: “Oh! but he’s diverting, that Sieur de Bonnivet, who thinks himself so handsome! and the more I tell him he is a pretty fellow, the more he doth believe it. ’Tis my great pastime, making fun of the man, for he’s really witty and ready-tongued, and no one can help laughing in his company, such clever retorts doth he make.” By these words she was for persuading the King that her common discourse with Bonnivet had naught to do with love and alliance, or playing his Majesty false in any wise. How many fair dames there be which do practise the like wiles, and to cloak the intrigues they are pursuing with some lover, do speak ill of him, and make fun of him before the world, though in private they soon drop this fine pretense; and this is what they call cunning and contrivance in love.
I knew a very great lady,[134*] who one day seeing her daughter, which was one of the fairest of women, grieving for the love of a certain gentleman, with whom her brother was sore angered, did say this to her amongst other things: “Nay! my child, never love that man. His manners and form be so bad, and he’s such an ugly fellow. He’s for all the world like a village pastry cook!” At this the daughter burst out a-laughing, making merry at his expense and applauding her mother’s description, allowing his likeness to a pastry-cook, red cap and all. For all that, she had her way; but some while after, in another six months that is, she did leave him for another man.
I have known not a few ladies which had no words bad enough to cast at women that loved inferiors,—their secretaries, serving-men and the like low-born persons, declaring publicly they did loathe such intrigues worse than poison. Yet would these very same ladies be giving themselves up to these base pleasures as much as any. Such be the cunning ways of women; before the world they do show fierce indignation against these offenders, and do threaten and abuse them; but all the while behind backs they do readily enough indulge the same vice themselves. So full of wiles are they! for as the Spanish proverb saith, _Mucho sabe la zorra; mas sabe mas la dama enamorada_,—“The fox knoweth much, but a woman in love knoweth more.”
13.
However, for all this fair lady of the tale told above did to lull King 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.
◆Bertrand du Guesclin, Constable of France, the most famous warrior of the XIVth Century, and one of the greatest Captains of any age, was born about 1314 near Rennes of an ancient and distinguished family of Brittany. He was the great champion of France in the wars with the English, and the tales of his prowess are endless. Died 1380.
[15] P. 21:
◆Béatrix, fourth daughter of Raymond-Béranger IV., Count de Provence.
[16] P. 22:
◆Isabeau de Lorraine, daughter of Charles II., married René d’Anjou.
[17] P. 24:
◆He called himself René de La Platière, lord of Les Bordes, and was ensign in Field Marshal de Bourdillon’s company; he was killed at Dreux. He was the son of François de La Platière and Catherine Motier de La Fayette.
◆Brantôme, in his eulogy of Bussy d’Amboise, relates that he reprimanded that young man for his mania of killing. The woman whom he compares here to Angélique was Marguerite de Valois.
[18] P. 27:
◆Brantôme is unquestionably referring again in this paragraph to Marguerite de Valois and Bussy d’Amboise.
[19] P. 28:
◆_Orlando furioso_, canto V.
[20] P. 30:
◆That is why Marguerite de Valois turned away “that big disgusting Viscount de Turenne.” She compared him “to the empty clouds which look well only from without.” (_Divorce satyrique._)
◆This is very likely an adventure that happened to Brantôme, and he had occasion to play the rôle of the “gentilhomme content.”
[21] P. 32:
◆According to Lalanne, the two gentlemen are Le Balafré and Mayenne. If the “grande dame” was Marguerite, she bore Mayenne no grudge, whom she described as “a good companion, big and fat, and voluptuous like herself.”
[22] P. 37:
◆It is Madeleine de Saint-Nectaire or Senneterre, married to the lord of Miramont, Guy de Saint-Exupéry; she supported the Huguenots. She defeated Montal in Auvergne, and according to Mézeray, killed him herself in 1574. (See Anselme, t. IV., p. 890.) In 1569, Mme. de Barbancon had also fought herself; she, too, was formerly an Italian, Ipolita Fioramonti.
[23] P. 39:
◆On the large square with the tower, in the centre of Sienna.
[24] P. 40:
◆Livy, Bk. XXVII., Chap. XXXVII.
[25] P. 42:
◆_Orlando furioso_, cantos XXII. and XXV.
◆Christophe Jouvenel des Ursins, lord of La Chapelle, died in 1588.
◆Henri II.
[26] P. 44:
◆Ipolita Fioramonti, married to Luigi di Malaspina, of the Padua branch; she was general of the Duke of Milan’s armies. (Litta, Malaspina di Pavia, t. VIII., tav. xx.)
◆Famous fortified city and seaport on the Atlantic coast of France; 800 miles S. W. of Paris, capital of the modern Department of Charente-Inférieure.
[27] P. 45:
◆The interview between François de La Noue, surnamed Bras-de-Fer (iron arm), and the representatives of Monsieur, François, Duke d’Alencon, took place February 21, 1573. The scene that Brantôme describes happened Sunday, February 22.
[28] P. 46:
◆What Brantôme advances here is to be found in Jacques de Bourbon’s _La grande et merveilleuse oppugnation de la noble cité de Rhodes_, 1527.
◆The siege took place in 1536.
[29] P. 47:
◆August 14, 1536. Count de Nassau besieged Péronne at the head of 60,000 men; the population defended itself with the uttermost energy. Marie Fouré, according to some, was the principal heroine of this famous siege; according to others, all the honor should go to Mme. Catherine de Foix. (Cf. _Pièces et documents relatifs au siège de Péronne, en 1536._ Paris, 1864.)
◆The siege of Sancerre began January 3, 1573; but the rôle of the women was more pacific than at Péronne; they nursed the wounded and fed the combatants. The energetic Joanneau governed the city. (Poupard, _Histoire de Sancerre_, 1777.)
◆Vitré was besieged by the Duke de Mercœuer in 1589. This passage of Brantôme’s is quoted in the _Histoire de Vitré_ by Louis Dubois (1839, pp. 87–88).
◆Péronne, a small fortified town of N. W. France, on the Somme and in the Department of same name. It was bombarded by the Prussians in 1870, and the fine belfry of the XIVth Century destroyed. Its siege by the Comte de Nassau was in 1536.
◆Sancerre, a small town on the left bank of the Loire, modern Department of the Cher, 27 miles from Bourges. The Huguenots of Sancerre endured two terrible sieges in 1569 and 1573.
◆Vitré, a town of Brittany, modern Department Ille-et-Vilaine, of about 10,000 inhabitants. Retains its medieval aspect and town walls to the present day.
[30] P. 48:
◆Collenuccio, Bk. V.
[31] P. 49:
◆Boccaccio has arranged this story in his _De claries mulieribus_, cap. CI. Vopiscus, _Aurelius_, XXVI–XXX, relates this fact more coolly.
◆Zenobia, the famous Queen of Palmyra, widow of Odena—thus, who had been allowed by the weak Emperor Gallienus to participate in the title of Augustus, and had extended his empire over a great part of Asia Minor, Syria and Egypt. She was eventually defeated by Aurelian in a great battle on the Orontes not far from Antioch. Palmyra was destroyed, and its inhabitants massacred; and Zenobia brought in chains to Rome.
◆The Emperor Aurelian was born about 212 A. D., and was of very humble origin. He served as a soldier in almost every part of the Roman Empire, and rose at last to the purple by dint of his prowess and address in arms, succeeding Claudius in 270 A. D. Almost the whole of his short reign of four years and a half was occupied in constant fighting. Killed in a conspiracy 275 A. D.
[32] P. 53:
◆Perseus, the last King of Macedon, son of Philip V., came to the throne 179 B. C. His struggle with the Roman power lasted from 171 to 165, when he was finally defeated at the battle of Pydna by the consul L. Aemilius Paulus. He was carried to Rome and adorned the triumph of his conqueror in 167 B. C., and afterwards thrown into a dungeon. He was subsequently released, however, on the intercession of Aemilius Paulus, and died in honourable captivity at Alba.
◆Maria of Austria, sister of Charles V., widow of Louis II. of Hungary, and ruler over the Netherlands; she died in 1558. It was against her rule that John of Leyden struggled.
◆Brantôme has in mind Aurelia Victorina, mother of Victorinus, according to Trebillius Pollio, _Thirty Tyrants_, XXX.
[33] P. 54:
◆In Froissart, liv. I, chap. 174.
◆Henri I., Prince de Condé, died in 1588 (January 5), poisoned, says the _Journal de Henri_, by his wife Catherine Charlotte de la Trémolle.
◆Isabella of Austria, daughter of Philip II.
◆Jeanne de Flandres.
[34] P. 55:
◆Jacquette de Montberon, Brantôme’s sister-in-law.
◆Machiavelli, Dell’arte della guerre, Bk. V., ii.
[35] P. 56:
◆Paule de Penthièvre, the second wife of Jean II. de Bourgogne, Count de Nevers.
[36] P. 57:
◆Richilde, Countess de Hainaut, who died in 1091.
◆Hugues Spencer, or le Dépensier.
◆Jean de Hainaut, brother of Count de Hainaut.
◆Cassel and Broqueron.
◆Edward II. of Caernarvon, King of England, was the fourth son of Edward I. and Queen Eleanor. Ascended the throne 1307, and married Isabel of France the following year. A cowardly and worthless Prince, and the tool of scandalous favourites, such as Piers Gaveston. Isabel and Mortimer landed at Orwell, in Suffolk, in 1326, and deposed the King, who was murdered at Berkeley Castle, 1327.
[37] P. 58:
◆Eleonore d’Acquitaine.
[38] P. 59:
◆Thevet wrote the _Cosmographie_; Nauclerus wrote a _Chronographie_.
[39] P. 60:
◆Vittoria Colonna, daughter of Fabrizio Colonna and of Agnes de Montefeltro, born in 1490, and affianced at the age of four to Ferdinand d’Avalos, who became her husband. The letter of which Brantôme speaks is famous; he found it in Vallès, fol. 205. As for Mouron, he was the great Chancellor Hieronimo Morone.
[40] P. 61:
◆Plutarch, _Anthony_, Chap. xiv.
[41] P. 62:
◆Catherine Marie de Lorraine, wife of Louis de Bourbon, Duke De Montpensier.
◆Henri III., assassinated at Paris, 1589.
[42] P. 65:
◆The _other man_ was Mayenne.
[43] P. 67:
◆Poltrot de Méré was tortured and quartered (March 18, 1563). As regards the admiral, he was massacred August 24, 1572.
[44] P. 68:
◆Philibert de Marcilly, lord of Cipierre, tutor of Charles IX.
[45] P. 71:
◆On this adventure, consult the Additions au Journal de Henri III., note 2.
[46] P. 72:
◆Louis de Correa, _Historia de la conquista del reino de Navarra_.
[47] P. 76:
◆Louise de Savoie.
[48] P. 77:
◆Charlotte de Roye, married to Francis III. de La Rochefoucauld in 1557; she died in 1559.
[49] P. 78:
◆Marguerite de Foix-Candale, married to Jean Louis de Nogaret, Duke d’Eperon.
[50] P. 79:
◆Renée de Bourdeille, daughter of André and Jacquette Montberon. She married, in 1579, David Bouchard, Viscount d’Aubeterre, who was killed in Périgord in 1593. She died in 1596. The daughter of whom Brantôme is about to speak was Hippolyte Bouchard, who was married to François d’Esparbez de Lussan. The three daughters whom he later mentions were: Jeanne, Countess de Duretal, Isabelle, Baroness d’Ambleville, and Adrienne, lady of Saint-Bonnet.
[51] P. 80:
◆Married subsequently to François d’Esparbez de Lussan, Maréchal d’Aubeterre.
[52] P. 83:
◆Renée de Clermont, daughter of Jacques de Clermont-d’Amboise, lord of Bussy; she was married to the incompetent Jean de Montluc-Balagny (bastard of the Bishop de Valence), created Field Marshal of France in 1594.
[53] P. 84:
◆Gabrielle d’Estrées.
[54] P. 85:
◆Popular song of the day; Musée de Janequin. See _Recueil_ of Pierre Atteignant.
[55] P. 89:
◆Renée Taveau, married to Baron Mortemart. François de Rochechouart.
[56] P. 91:
◆There is a copy of this sixth discourse in the MS. 4788, _du fonds français_, at the Bibliothèque Nationale: this copy is from the end of the sixteenth century.
[57] P. 92:
◆ Charlotte de Savoie, second wife of Louis XI., daughter of Louis, Duke de Savoie.
◆Louis XI. is generally supposed not only to have bandied many such stories with all the young bloods at the Court of Philippe le Bon, Duke of Burgundy, where he had taken refuge when Dauphin, but actually to have taken pains to have a collection of them made and afterwards published in the same order in which we have them, in the Work entitled “_Cent Nouvelles nouvelles_,” _lequel en soy contient cent chapitres ou histoires, composées ou récitées par nouvelles gens depuis naguères_,—“An Hundred New Romances,—a Work containing in itself an hundred chapters or tales, composed or recited by divers folk in these last years.” This is confirmed by the words of the original preface or notice, which would appear to have been written in his life-time: “And observe that throughout the _Nouvelles_, wherever ’tis said by _Monseigneur_, Monseigneur the Dauphin is meant, which hath since succeeded to the crown and is now King Louis XI.; for in those days he was in the Duke of Burgundy’s country.” But as it is absolutely certain this Prince only withdrew into Brabant at the end of the year 1456, and only returned to France in August 1461, it is quite impossible the Collection can have appeared in France about the year 1455, as is stated without sufficient consideration in the preface of the latest editions of this work. Two ancient editions are known, one,—Paris 1486, folio; the other also published at Paris, by the widow of Johan Treperre, N. D., also folio. Besides this, two modern editions, with badly executed cuts, printed at Cologne, by Pierre Gaillard, 1701 and 1736 respectively, 2 vols. 8vo.
[58] P. 93:
◆ By _Bourguignonne_ the King meant _étrangère_ (foreigner).
[59] P. 94:
◆See the sojourn of Charles VIII. at Lyons: _Séjours de Charles VIII. et Louis XII. à Lyon sur le Rosne jouxte la copie des faicts, gestes et victoires des roys Charles VIII. et Louis XII._, Lyon, 1841.
◆Louis XII. had really been a “good fellow,” without mentioning the laundress of the court, who was rumored to be the mother of Cardinal de Bucy, he had known at Genoa Thomasina Spinola, with whom, according to Jean d’Authon, his relations were purely moral.
[60] P. 97:
◆Francis I. forbade by the decree of December 23, 1523, that any farces be played at the colleges of the University of Paris “Wherein scandalous remarks are made about the King or the princes or about the people of the King’s entourage.” (Clairambault, 824, fol. 8747, at the Biblilothèque Nationale.) This king maintained, as Brantôme says, that women are very fickle and inconstant; he wrote to Montmorency of his own sister Marguerite de Valois, November 8, 1537: “We may be sure that when we wish women to stop they are dying to trot along; but when we wish them to go they refuse to budge from their place.” (Clairambault, 336, fol. 6230, v^o.)
[61] P. 98:
◆Paul Farnese, Paul III.—1468–1549.
◆The queen arrived at Nice, June 8, 1538, where the king and Pope Paul III. were. The ladies of whom Brantôme speaks should be the Queen of Navarre, Mme. de Vendôme, the Duchess d’Etampes, the Marquess de Rothelin—that beautiful Rohan of whom it was said that her husband would get with child and not she—and thirty-eight gentlewomen. (Clair., 336, fol. 6549.)
◆John Stuart, Duke of Albany, grandson of James II., King of Scotland. He was born in France in 1482 and died in 1536. The anecdote that Brantôme relates is connected with the journey of Clement VI. to Marseilles at the time of the marriage of Henri II., then Duke d’Orléans, with the niece of the pope, Catherine de Medici. The marriage took place at Marseilles in 1533.
[62] P. 100:
◆Louise de Clermont Tallard, who married as her second husband the Duc d’Uzes. Jean de Taix was the grand master of artillery.
[63] P. 107:
◆He was called Pierre de La Mare, lord of Matha, master of the horse to Marguerite, sister of the king. (Bib. Nat., Cabinet des Titres, art. Matha.) Aimée de Méré was at the court from 1560 to 1564. Hence this adventure took place during that time. (Bib. Nat. ms. français 7856, fol. 1186, v^o.)
[64] P. 108:
◆Povided with “bards,” plate-armour used to protect a horse’s breast and flanks.
[65] P. 109:
◆This Fontaine-Guérin was in all likelihood Honorat de Bueil, lord of Fontaine-Guérin, gentleman of the king’s bed-chamber, councillor of State, who died in 1590. He was a great favorite of Charles IX.
[66] P. 112:
◆The lady in question was Françoise de Rohan, dame de La Garnache, if we are to believe Bayle in the _Dict. Critique_, p. 1817, 2nd. ed., though there would seem to be some doubt about it. The “very brave and gallant Prince” was the Duc de Nemours.
◆A German dance, the _Facheltanz_.
[67] P. 113:
◆Marie de Flamin.
[68] P. 114:
◆The son of this lady was Henri d’Angoulème, who killed Altoviti and was killed by him at Aix, and not at Marseilles, June 2, 1586. Philippe Altoviti was the Baron of Castellane; he had married the beautiful Renée de Rieux-Châteauneuf.
[69] P. 115:
◆_Le Tigre_—a pamphlet by François Hotman directed against the Cardinal de Lorraine and the Duchesse de Guise, 1560.
[70] P. 116:
◆Philibert de Marcilly, lord of Cipierre.
[71] P. 117:
◆That pamphlet was aimed at Anne d’Este, Duchess de Guise, at the time of her marriage with the Duc de Nemours.
[72] P. 119:
◆Brantôme alludes to the hatred of the Duchess de Montpensier.
[73] P. 120:
◆Marie de Clèves, who died during her lying-in in 1574.
◆Catherine Charlotte de La Trémolle, Princess de Condé.
[74] P. 122:
◆Not found anywhere in Brantôme’s extant works.
[75] P. 125:
◆Du Guast or Lignerolles. However, it may refer to Bussy d’Amboise.
[76] P. 126:
◆Marie Babou de la Bourdaisière, who married Claude de Beauvillier Saint-Aignan in 1560.
[77] P. 128:
◆Plutarch, _Sylla_, cap. XXX.
[78] P. 129:
◆Queen Maria of Hungary, ruler of the Netherlands, and sister of Charles V.
◆Plutarch, _Cato of Utica_, cap. XXXV.
[79] P. 132:
◆The personages in question are Henri III., Renée de Rieux-Châteauneuf, then Mme. de Castellane, and Marie de Clèves, wife of the Prince de Condé.
◆Louis de Condé, who deserted Isabeau de La Tour de Limeuil to marry Françoise d’Orléans. The beauty of which Brantôme speaks can scarcely be seen in the portrait in crayon of Isabeau de Limeuil who became Mme. de Sardini.
[80] P. 135:
◆Mottoes were constantly used at that time.
[81] P. 136:
◆Anne de Bourbon, married in 1561 to François de Clèves, Duke de Nevers and Count d’Eu.
[82] P. 146:
◆The empress was Elizabeth of Portugal; the Marquis de Villena, M. de Villena; the Duke de Feria, Gomez Suarez de Figueroa, Duke de Feria; Eleonor, the Queen of Portugal, later married to François I^{er}; Queen Marie, the Queen of Hungary.
[83] P. 147:
◆Elizabeth, daughter of Henri II.
[84] P. 151:
◆The MS. of this discourse is at the Bibliothèque Nationale (Ms. fr. 3273); it is written in a good hand of the end of the sixteenth century. It is dedicated to the Duke d’Alençon.
[85] P. 152:
◆_Opere_ di G. Boccaccio, _Il Filicopo_, Firenze, 1723, t. II., p. 73.
[86] P. 159:
◆_La Tournelle_ in the original. This was the name given to the Criminal Court of the Parliament of Paris.
[87] P. 161:
◆Barbe de Cilley; she died in 1415.
[88] P. 166:
◆Brantôme is undoubtedly referring to Mme. de Villequier.
[89] P. 172:
◆This is again Isabeau de La Tour Limeuil.
[90] P. 178:
◆See XXVth Tale in _Cent Nouvelles nouvelles_.
[91] P. 188:
◆Honoré Castellan.
◆Baron de Vitteau was this member of the Du Prat family; he killed Louis de Béranger du Guast.
[92] P. 190:
◆Chicot was Henri III.’s jester who killed M. de La Rochefoucauld on Saint Bartholomew’s Day.
[93] P. 194:
◆_Alberic de Rosate_, under the word “Matrimonium” in his _Dictionary_ reports an exactly similar instance. _Barbatias_ has something even more extraordinary, how a boy of seven got his nurse with child.
[94] P. 195:
◆The Queen Mother Catherine de Medici. The author gives her name in his book of the _Dames Illustres_, where he tells the same story.
[95] P. 207:
◆Jean de Rabodanges, who married Marie de Clèves, mother of Louis XII. She was _reine blanche_, that is, she was in mourning; at that time the women of the nobility wore white when in mourning.
[96] P. 207:
◆These eighteen chevaliers, who were elevated in one batch, caused a good deal of gossip at the court.
[97] P. 214:
◆Louis de Béranger du Guast.
[98] P. 216:
◆She was thirty-five; she died three years later.
[99] P. 217:
◆It is the Château d’Usson in Auvergne.
[100] P. 218:
◆Louis de Saint-gelais-Lansac.
[101] P. 220:
◆Jeanne, married to Jean, Prince of Portugal. She died in 1578.
[102] P. 225:
◆Sébastien, died in 1578. This passage in Brantôme is not one of the least irreverent of this hardened sceptic.
[103] P. 226:
◆The portraits of Marie disclose a protruding mouth. She is generally represented with a cap over her forehead. This feature is to be found in a marked degree in Queen Eleanore; and her brother Charles V. also had a protruding mouth. The drooping lip was likewise characteristic of all the later Dukes de Bourgogne.
[104] P. 228:
◆The entanglements of which Brantôme speaks were: the revolt of the Germanats, in Spain, in 1522; of Tunis or Barbarie, 1535; the troubles in Italy, also in 1535; the revolt in the Netherlands, provoked by the taxes imposed by Maria, in 1540. M. de Chièvres was Guillaume de Croy.
[105] P. 229:
◆Folembray, the royal residence occupied by François I^{er} and later by Henri II. Henri IV. negotiated there with Mayenne during the Ligue.
◆Bains en Hainaut.
[106] P. 230:
◆Claude Blosset, surnamed Torcy, lady of Fontaine Chalandray.
[107] P. 234:
◆Christine of Denmark, daughter of Christian II., first married to Francesco Maria Sforza, Duke of Milan. In 1540, five years after her husband’s death, she married Francis I. of Lorraine. Her son was Charles II. of Lorraine.
◆N. de La Brosse-Mailly.
[108] P. 285:
◆A small plank attached to the saddle of a lady’s horse, and serving to support the rider’s feet. Superseded by the single stirrup and pommel.
[109] P. 236:
◆Guy du Faur de Pybrac.
[110] P. 243:
◆Renée, wife of Guillaume V., Duke de Bavière.
[111] P. 246:
◆Blanche de Montferrat, wife of Charles I^{er}, Duke de Savoie; she died in 1509.
[112] P. 247:
◆Paradin, _Chronique de Savoye_, III, 85.
◆The seneschal’s lady of Poitou was Mme. de Vivonne.
[113] P. 249:
◆Nicolas de Lorraine-Vaudemont, father-in-law of Henri III.
◆Françoise d’Orléans, widow of Louis, Prince de Condé.
[114] P. 250:
◆Louise, daughter of Nicolas de Lorraine-Vaudemont, married in 1575; she died in 1601.
[115] P. 252:
◆Jean de Talleyrand, former ambassador at Rome.
[116] P. 255:
◆Refers of course to the assassination of Henri III., by the monk Clément (1589).
[117] P. 256:
◆Marguerite de Lorraine, whose second marriage was with François de Luxembourg, Duke de Piney.
◆Mayenne, Duke du Maine.
◆Aymard de Chastes.
[118] P. 257:
◆Catherine de Lorraine.
[119] P. 273:
◆Jean Dorat, died in 1588. Louis de Béranger du Guast.
[120] P. 280:
◆Caesar Borgia, son of Pope Alexander VI.
◆Thomas de Foix, lord of Lescun, brother of Mme. de Châteaubriant.
◆Piero Strozzi, Field Marshal of France.
[121] P. 281:
◆Jean de Bourdeille, brother of Brantôme. He died at the age of twenty-five at the siege of Hesdin. It was from him that the joint title of Brantôme passed on to our author.
◆Henri de Clermont, Viscount de Tallard.
◆André de Soleillas, Bishop of Riez in Provence, in 1576. He had a mistress who was given to playing the prude, but whose hypocrisy did not deceive King Henri IV. That Prince, one day rebuking this lady for her love affairs, said her only delight was in _le jeune et l’oraison_,—fast and prayer.
[122] P. 282:
◆This widow of a Field Marshal of France was very likely the lady of Field Marshal de Saint-André. She wedded as a second husband Geoffroi de Caumont, abbé de Clairac. She called herself Marguerite de Lustrac. As for Brantôme’s aunt, it should be Philippe de Beaupoil; she married La Chasteignerie, and as a second husband François de Caumont d’Aymé.
[123] P. 285:
◆Anne d’Anglure de Givry, son of Jeanne Chabot and René d’Anglure de Givry. Jeanne married as a second husband Field Marshal de La Chastre.
◆ Jean du Bellay and Blanche de Tournon.
[124] P. 288:
◆Odet de Coligny, Cardinal de Chastillon, married to Elizabeth de Hauteville.
[125] P. 290:
◆Henri II., who neglected his wife, the Queen, for the Duchesse de Valentinois (Diane de Poitiers), who was already quite an old woman and had been his father, the preceding King’s, mistress.
[126] P. 293:
◆About the year 400 of the Christian era, St. Jerome witnessed the woman’s funeral, and he it is reports the fact mentioned in the text. _Epist. ad Ageruchiam, De Monogamia._
◆Charles de Rochechouart.
[127] P. 302:
◆Scio was taken in 1566 by the Turks.
[128] P. 309:
◆It was to her that King Henri IV. said at a court ball by way of amusing the company, that she had used green wood and dry wood both. This jest he made at her expense, because the said lady did never spare any other woman’s good name.
[129] P. 310:
◆L’histoire et Plaisante cronique du Petit Jehan de Saintré, par Antoine de La Salle. Paris, 1517.
[130] P. 312:
◆XLVth Tale.
[131] P. 314:
◆According to Rabelais, _poultre_ (filly) is the name given to a mare that has never been leapt. So Bussy was not speaking with strict accuracy in using the term in this case.
[132] P. 316:
◆An allusion to the affair of Jarnac, who killed La Chasteignerie, Brantôme’s uncle, in a duel (1547) with an unexpected and decisive thrust of the sword.
◆Alesandro de Medici, killed, in 1537, by his cousin Lorenzino.
[133] P. 317:
◆Mme. de Chateaubriant.
[134] P. 318:
◆Perhaps Marguerite de Valois and the ugly Martigues.
[135] P. 321:
◆The one-eyed Princess d’Eboli and the famous Antonio Perez.
[136] P. 323:
◆Jeanne de Poupincourt.
[137] P. 324:
◆Anne de Berri, Lady de Certeau, at the court in 1583. Hélène de Fonsèques.
◆This princess was very ugly.
[138] P. 330:
◆In the sixteenth century it was customary to whip lazy people in bed. See Marot’s epigram: Du Jour des Innocens.
END OF VOLUME TWO
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Transcriber’s Note (continued)
The book contains long passages of older French in which the reader will notice many flaws in grammar, spelling and accents. These may make some of the French difficult to read but it will be obvious that this cannot be fixed without sometimes inadvertently changing the intended meaning. For that reason all passages in French are presented unchanged in this transcription.
Similarly with the passages in Italian and Spanish.
For the rest of the text, the many inconsistencies in English spelling, capitalisation, and hyphenation have been left unchanged except where noted below. Other minor typographical errors have been corrected without note.
Page xxviii – “or” changed to “of” (a contemporary of)
Page 93 – “nay” changed to “any” (scarce any account of her)
Page 126 – “may” changed to “many” (how many stages)
Page 138 – “Fontainbleau” changed to “Fontainebleau” (at Fontainebleau)
Page 259 – “Randam” changed to “Randan” (Madame de Randan)
Page 290 – “Cnæus” changed to “Gnæus” (Gnæus Pompeius)
——————————
The numbered references to endnotes on the pages of the book are incorrect in most cases. Many other pages of the book should have had references to endnotes but those references are missing.
In order to reindex the references in this transcription, a temporary ‘placeholder’ reference was added to those pages where there should have been at least one numbered reference to endnotes but it was omitted in the book.
The transcriber has retained these placeholder references as they are helpful to the reader. Placeholder references are distinguished by an asterisk next to the index number (as in [99*], for example). Their role is exactly the same as that of the references originally present in the book; namely to direct the reader to the correct page header in the endnotes. Under that page header will be found all the author’s notes relevant to the page.
Where originally there were more than one numbered reference to endnotes on a page of the book, these now have the same index number in this transcription. That index number links to the respective page header in the endnotes.
Endnotes have been reformatted so that each separate note is distinguished by a prefixing ◆ character.