The book of the ladies

So long as she lived in Spain never did she forget the affection she bore to France, and in that was not like Germaine de Foix, second wife of King Ferdinand, who when she saw herself raised to such high rank became so haughty that she made no account of her own country, and disdained it so much that, when Louis XII., her uncle, and Ferdinand came to Savonne, she, being with her husband, held herself so high that never would she notice a Frenchman, not even her brother Gaston de Foix, Duc de Nemours, neither would she deign to speak or look at the greatest persons of France who were present; for which she was much ridiculed. But after the death of her husband she suffered for this, having fallen from her high estate and being held in no great account, whereat she was miserable. They say there are none so vainglorious as persons of low estate who rise to grandeur; not that I mean to say that princess was of low estate, being of the house of Foix, a very illustrious and great house; but from simple daughter of a count to be queen of so great a kingdom was a rise which gave occasion to feel much glory, but not to forget herself or abuse her station towards a King of France, her uncle, and her nearest relations and others of the land of her birth. In this she showed she lacked a great mind; or else that she was foolishly vainglorious. For surely there is a difference between the house of Foix and the house of France; not that I mean to say the house of Foix is not great and very noble, but the house of France – hey!

Our Queen Élisabeth never did like that. She was born great in herself, great in mind and very able, so that a royal grandeur could not fail her. She had, if she had wished it, double cause over Germaine de Foix to be haughty and arrogant, for she was daughter of a great King of France, and married to the greatest king in the world, he being not the monarch of one kingdom, but of many, or, as one might say, of all the Spains, – Jerusalem, the Two Sicilies, Majorca, Minorca, Sardinia, and the Western Indies, which seem indeed a world, besides being lord of infinitely more lands and greater seigneuries than Ferdinand ever had. Therefore we should laud our princess for her gentleness, which is well becoming in a great personage towards each and all; and likewise for the affection she showed to Frenchmen, who, on arriving in Spain, were welcomed by her with so benign a face, the least among them as well as the greatest, that none ever left her without feeling honoured and content. I can speak for myself, as to the honour she did me in talking to me often during the time I stayed there; asking me, at all hours, news of the king, the queen her mother, messieurs her brothers, and madame her sister, with others of the Court, not forgetting to name them, each and all, and to inquire about them; so that I wondered much how she could remember these things as if she had just left the Court of France; and I often asked her how it was possible she could keep such memories in the midst of her grandeur.

When she came to Bayonne she showed herself just as familiar with the ladies and maids of honour, neither more nor less, as she was when a girl; and as for those who were absent or married since her departure, she inquired with great interest about them all. She did the same to the gentlemen of her acquaintance, and to those who were not, informing herself as to who the latter were, and saying: “Such and such were at Court in my day, I knew them well; but these were not, and I desire to know them.” In short, she contented every one.

When she made her entry into Bayonne she was mounted on an ambling horse, most superbly and richly caparisoned with pearl embroideries which had formerly been used by the deceased empress when she made her entries into her towns, and were thought to be worth one hundred thousand crowns, and some say more. She had a noble grace on horseback, and it was fine to see her; she showed herself so beautiful and so agreeable that every one was charmed with her.

We all had commands to go to meet her, and accompany her on this entry, as indeed it was our duty to do; and we were gratified when, having made her our reverence, she did us the honour to thank us; and to me above all she gave good greeting, because it was scarcely four months since I had left her in Spain; which touched me much, receiving such favour above my companions and more honour than belonged to me.

On my return from Portugal and from Pignon de Belis [Penon de Velez], a fortress which was taken in Barbary, she welcomed me very warmly, asking me news of the conquest and of the army. She presented me to Don Carlos, who came into her room, together with the princess, and to Don Juan [of Austria, Philip II.’s brother, the conqueror of Lepanto]. I was two days without going to see her, on account of a toothache I had got upon the sea. She asked Riberac, maid of honour, where I was and if I were ill, and having heard what my trouble was she sent me her apothecary, who brought me an herb very special for that ache, which, on merely being held in the palm of the hand, cures the pain suddenly, as it did very quickly for me.

I can boast that I was the first to bring the queen-mother word of Queen Élisabeth’s desire to come to France and see her, for which she thanked me much both then and later; for the Queen of Spain was her good daughter, whom she loved above the others, and who returned her the like; for Queen Élisabeth so honoured, respected, and feared her that I have heard her say she never received a letter from the queen, her mother, without trembling and dreading lest she was angry with her and had written some painful thing; though, God knows, she had never said one to her since she was married, nor been angry with her; but the daughter feared the mother so much that she always had that apprehension.

It was on this journey to Bayonne that Pompadour the elder having killed Chambret at Bordeaux, wrongfully as some say, the queen-mother was so angry that if she could have caught him she would have had him beheaded, and no one dared speak to her of mercy.

M. Strozzi, who was fond of the said Pompadour, bethought him of employing his sister, Signora Clarice Strozzi, Comtesse de Tenda, whom the Queen of Spain loved from her earliest years, they having studied together. The said countess, who loved her brother, did not refuse him, but begged the Queen of Spain to intercede; who answered that she would do anything for her except that, because she dreaded to irritate and annoy the queen, her mother, and displease her. But the countess continuing to importune her, she employed a third person who sounded the ford privately, telling the queen-mother that the queen, her daughter, would have asked this pardon to gratify the said countess had she not feared to displease her. To which the queen-mother replied that the thing must be wholly impossible to make her refuse it. On which the Queen of Spain made her little request, but still in fear; and suddenly it was granted. Such was the kindness of this princess, and her virtue in honouring and fearing the queen, her mother, she being herself so great. Alas! the Christian proverb did not hold good in her case, namely: “He that would live long years must love and honour and fear his father and mother;” for, in spite of doing all that, she died in the lovely and pleasant April of her days; for now, at the time I write, [1591] she would have been, had she lived, forty-six years old. Alas! that this fair sun disappeared so soon in a dark-some grave, when she might have lighted this fine world for twenty good years without even then being touched by age; for she was by nature and complexion fitted to keep her beauty long, and even had old age attacked her, her beauty was of a kind to be the stronger.

Surely, if her death was hard to Spaniards, it was still more bitter to us Frenchmen, for as long as she lived France was never invaded by those quarrels which, since then, Spain has put upon us; so well did she know how to win and persuade the king, her husband, for our good and our peace; the which should make us ever mourn her.

She left two daughters, the most honourable and virtuous infantas in Christendom. When they were large enough, that is to say, three or four years old, she begged her husband to leave the eldest wholly to her that she might bring her up in the French fashion. Which the king willingly granted. So she took her in hand, and gave her a fine and noble training in the style of her own country, so that to-day that infanta is as French as her sister, the Duchesse de Savoie, is Spanish; she loves and cherishes France as her mother taught her, and you may be sure that all the influence and power that she has with the king, her father, she employs for the help and succour of those poor Frenchmen whom she knows are suffering in Spanish hands. I have heard it said that after the rout of M. Strozzi, very many French soldiers and gentlemen having been put in the galleys, she went, when at Lisbon, to visit all the galleys that were then there; and all the Frenchmen whom she found on the chain, to the number of six twenties, she caused to be released, giving them money to reach their own land; so that the captains of the galleys were obliged to hide those that remained.

She was a very beautiful princess and very agreeable, of an extremely graceful mind, who knew all the affairs of the kingdom of the king, her father, and was well trained in them. I hope to speak of her hereafter by herself, for she deserves all honour for the love she bears to France; she says she can never part with it, having good right to it; and we, if we have obligation to this princess for loving us, how much more should we have to the queen, her mother, for having thus brought her up and taught her.

Would to God I were a good enough petrarchizer to exalt as I desire this Élisabeth of France! for, if the beauty of her body gives me most ample matter, that of her fine soul gives me still more, as these verses, which were made upon her at Court at the time she was married, will testify:

Happy the prince whom Heaven ordains
To Élisabeth’s sweet acquaintance:
More precious far than crown or sceptre
The glad enjoyment of so great a treasure.
Gifts most divine she had at birth,
The proof and the effect of which we see;
Her youthful years showed their appearance,
But now her virtues bear their perfect fruit.

When this queen was put into the hands of the Duc de l’Infantado and the Cardinal de Burgos, who were commissioned by their king to receive her at Roncevaux in a great hall, after the said deputies had made their reverence, she rising from her chair to welcome them, Cardinal de Burgos harangued her; to whom she made response so honourably, and in such fine fashion and good grace that he was quite amazed; for she spoke in the best manner, having been very well taught.

After which the King of Navarre, who was there as her principal conductor, and also leader of all the army which was with her, was summoned to deliver her, according to the order, which was shown to the Cardinal de Bourbon, to receive her. The king replied, for he spoke well, and said: “I place in your hands this princess, whom I have brought from the house of the greatest king in the world to be placed in the hands of the most illustrious king on earth. Knowing you to be very sufficient and chosen by the king your master to receive her, I make no difficulty nor doubt that you will acquit yourselves worthily of this trust, which I now discharge upon you; begging you to have peculiar care of her health and person, for she deserves it; and I wish you to know that never did there enter Spain so great an ornament of all virtues and chastities, as in time you will know well by results.”

The Spaniards replied at once that already at first sight they had very ample knowledge of this from her manner and grave majesty; and, in truth, her virtues were rare.

She had great knowledge, because the queen her mother had made her study well under M. de Saint-Étienne, her preceptor, whom she always loved and respected until her death. She loved poesy, and to read it. She spoke well, in either French or Spanish, with a very noble air and much good grace. Her Spanish language was beautiful, as dainty and attractive as possible; she learned it in three or four months after coming to Spain.

To Frenchmen she always spoke French; never being willing to discontinue it, but reading it daily in the fine books they sent from France, which she was very anxious to have brought to her. To Spaniards and all others she spoke Spanish and very well. In short, she was perfect in all things, and so magnificent and liberal that no one could be more so. She never wore her gowns a second time, but gave them to her ladies and maids; and God knows what gowns they were, so rich and so superb that the least was reckoned at three or four hundred crowns; for the king, her husband, kept her most superbly in such matters; so that every day she had a new one, as I was told by her tailor, who from being a very poor man became so rich that nothing exceeded him, as I saw myself.

She dressed well, and very pompously, and her habiliments became her much; among other things her sleeves were slashed, with scollops which they call in Spanish puntas; her head-dress the same, where nothing lacked. Those who see her thus in painting admire her; I therefore leave you to think what pleasure they had who saw her face to face, with all her gestures and good graces.

As for pearls and jewels in great quantity, she never lacked them, for the king, her husband, ordered a great estate for her and for her household. Alas! what served her that for such an end? Her ladies and maids of honour felt it. Those who, being French, could not constrain themselves to live in a foreign land, she caused, by a prayer which she made to the king, her husband, to receive each four thousand crowns on their marriage; as was done to Mesdamoiselles Riberac, sisters, otherwise called Guitignières, de Fumel, the two sisters de Thorigny, de Noyau, d’Arne, de La Motte au Groin, Montal, and several others. Those who were willing to remain were better off, like Mesdamoiselles de Saint-Ana and de Saint-Legier, who had the honour to be governesses to Mesdames the infantas, and were married very richly to two great seigneurs; they were the wisest, for better is it to be great in a foreign country than little in your own, – as Jesus said: “No one is a prophet in his own land.”

This is all, at this time, that I shall say of this good, wise and very virtuous queen, though later I may speak of her. But I give this sonnet which was written to her praise by an honourable gentleman, she being still Madame, though promised in marriage: —

“Princess, to whom the skies give such advantage
That, for the part you have in Heaven’s divinity,
They grant you all the virtues of this earth,
And crown you with the gift of immortality:

“And since it pleased them that in early years
Your heavenly gifts of deity be seen,
So that you temper with a humble gravity
The royal grandeur of your sacred heritage:

“And also since it pleases them to favour you,
And place in you the best of all their best,
So that your name is cherished everywhere:

“Methinks that name should undergo a change,
And though we call you now Élisabeth of France,
You should be named Élisabeth of Heaven.”

I know that I may be reproved for putting into this Discourse and others preceding it too many little particulars which are quite superfluous. I think so myself; but I know that if they displease some persons, they will please others. Methinks it is not enough when we laud persons to say that they are handsome, wise, virtuous, valorous, valiant, magnanimous, liberal, splendid, and very perfect; those are general descriptions and praises and commonplace sayings, borrowed from everybody. We should specify such things and describe particularly all perfections, so that one may, as it were, touch them with the finger. Such is my opinion, and it pleases me to retain and rejoice my memory with things that I have seen.

Epitaph On The Said Queen

“Beneath this stone lies Élisabeth of France:
Who was Queen of Spain and queen of peace,
Christian and Catholic. Her lovely presence
Was useful to us all. Now that her noble bones
Are dry and crumbling, lying under ground,
We have nought but ills and wars and troubles.”

DISCOURSE V.

MARGUERITE, QUEEN OF FRANCE AND OF NAVARRE, SOLE DAUGHTER NOW REMAINING OF THE NOBLE HOUSE OF FRANCE.[12 - Daughter of Henri II. and Catherine de’ Medici, – “La Reine Margot.” – Tr.]

WHEN I consider the miseries and ill-adventures of that beautiful Queen of Scotland of whom I have heretofore spoken, and of other princesses and ladies whom I shall not name, fearing by such digression to impair my discourse on the Queen of Navarre, of whom I now speak, not being as yet Queen of France, I cannot think otherwise than that Fortune, omnipotent goddess of weal and woe, is the opposing enemy of human beauty; for if ever there was in the world a being of perfect beauty it is the Queen of Navarre, and yet she has been little favoured by Fortune, so far; so that one may indeed say that Fortune was so jealous of Nature for having made this princess beautiful that she wished to run counter in fate. However that may be, her beauty is such that the blows of said Fortune have no ascendency upon her, for the generous courage she drew at birth from so many brave and valorous kings, her father, grandfather, great-grandfather, and their ancestors, has enabled her hitherto to make a brave resistance.

To speak now of the beauty of this rare princess: I think that all those who are, will be, or ever have been beside it are plain, and cannot have beauty; for the fire of hers so burns the wings of others that they dare not hover, or even appear, around it. If there be any unbeliever so chary of faith as not to give credence to the miracles of God and Nature, let him contemplate her fine face, so nobly formed, and become converted, and say that Mother Nature, that perfect workwoman, has put all her rarest and subtlest wits to the making of her. For whether she shows herself smiling or grave, the sight of her serves to enkindle every one; so beauteous are her features, so well defined her lineaments, so transparent and agreeable her eyes that they pass description; and, what is more, that beautiful face rests on a body still more beautiful, superb, and rich, – of a port and majesty more like to a goddess of heaven than a princess of earth; for it is believed, on the word of several, that no goddess was ever seen more beautiful; so that, in order to duly proclaim her beauty, virtues, and merit, God must lengthen the earth and heighten the sky beyond where they now are, for space in the airs and on the land is lacking for the flight of her perfection and renown.

Those are the beauties of body and mind in this fair princess, which I at this time represent, like a good painter, after nature and without art. I speak of those to be seen externally; for those that are secret and hidden beneath white linen and rich accoutrements cannot be here depicted or judged except as being very beautiful and rare; but this must be by faith, presumption, and credence, for sight is interdicted. Great hardship truly to be forced to see so beautiful a picture, made by the hand of a divine workman, in the half only of its perfection; but modesty and laudable shamefacedness thus ordain it – for they lodge among princesses and great ladies as they do among commoner folk.

To bring a few examples to show how the beauty of this queen was admired and held for rare: I remember that when the Polish ambassadors came to France, to announce to our King Henri [then Duc d’Anjou] his election to the kingdom of Poland, and to render him homage and obedience, after they had made their reverence to King Charles, to the queen-mother, and to their king, they made it, very particularly, and for several days, to Monsieur, and to the King and Queen of Navarre; but the day when they made it to the said Queen of Navarre she seemed to them so beautiful and so superbly and richly accoutred and adorned, and with such great majesty and grace that they were speechless at such beauty. Among others, there was Lasqui, the chief of the embassy, whom I heard say, as he retired, overcome by the sight: “No, never do I wish to see such beauty again. Willingly would I do as do the Turks, pilgrims to Mecca, where the sepulchre of their prophet Mahomet is, and where they stand speechless, ravished, and so transfixed at the sight of that superb mosque that they wish to see nothing more and burn their eyes out with hot irons till they lose their sight, so subtly is it done; saying that nothing more could be seen as fine, and therefore would they see nothing.” Thus said that Pole about the beauty of our princess. And if the Poles were won to admiration, so were others. I instance here Don Juan of Austria, who (as I have said elsewhere), passing through France as stilly as he could, and reaching Paris, knowing that that night a solemn ball was given at the Louvre, went there disguised, as much to see Queen Marguerite of Navarre as for any other purpose. He there had means and leisure to see her at his ease, dancing, and led by the king, her brother, as was usual. He gazed upon her long, admired her, and then proclaimed her high above the beauties of Spain and Italy (two regions, nevertheless, most fertile in beauty), saying these words in Spanish: “Though the beauty of that queen is more divine than human, she is made to damn and ruin men rather than to save them.”

Shortly after, he saw her again as she went to the baths of Liège, Don Juan being then at Namur, where she had to pass; the which crowned all his hopes to enjoy so fine a sight, and he went to meet her with great and splendid Spanish magnificence, receiving her as though she were the Queen Élisabeth, her sister, in the latter’s lifetime his queen, and Queen of Spain. And though he was most enchanted with the beauty of her body, he was the same with that of her mind, as I hope to show in its proper place. But it was not Don Juan alone who praised and delighted to praise her, but all his great and brave Spanish captains did the same, and even the very soldiers of those far-famed bands, who went about saying among themselves, in soldierly chorus, that “the conquest of such beauty was better than that of a kingdom, and happy would be the soldiers who, to serve her, would die beneath her banner.”

It is not surprising that such people, well-born and noble, should think this princess beautiful, but I have seen Turks coming on an embassy to the king her brother, barbarians that they were, lose themselves in gazing at her, and say that the pomp of their Grand Signior in going to his mosque or marching with his army was not so fine to see as the beauty of this queen.

In short, I have seen an infinity of other strangers who have come to France and to the Court expressly to behold her whose fame had gone from end to end of Europe, so they said.

I once saw a gallant Neapolitan knight, who, having come to Paris and the Court, and not finding the said queen, delayed his return two months in order to see her, and having seen her he said these words: “In other days, the Princess of Salerno bore the like reputation for beauty in our city of Naples, so that a foreigner who had gone there and had not seen her, when he returned and related his visit, and was asked had he seen that princess, and answered no, was told that in that case he had not seen Naples. Thus I, if on my return without seeing this beautiful princess I were asked had I seen France and the Court, could scarcely say I had, for she is its ornament and enrichment. But now, having seen and contemplated her so well, I can say that I have seen the greatest beauty in the world, and that our Princess of Salerno is as nothing to her. Now I am well content to go, having enjoyed so fine a sight. I leave you Frenchmen to think how happy you should be to see at your ease and daily her fine face; and to approach that flame divine, which can warm and kindle frigid hearts from afar more than the beauty of our most beauteous dames near-by.” Such were the words said to me one day by that charming Neapolitan knight.