Farewell, my dear!
The court I flee
To seek for life
Beneath the tree.
If that my prayer
Could influence thee,
Thou shouldst not linger
After me.
Stay not, my dear,
But come with me,
And seek for life
Beneath the tree.[653]
Francis I., who loved the chase, would often go into the forest, attended by his young lords, and hunt the boar and deer for days together. These youths took great pleasure in talking of their skill to the ladies of the court, or in challenging one another who could kill the finest stag.... The Queen of Navarre sometimes joined good-naturedly in these conversations; she would smilingly call these gay young lords ‘bad sportsmen,’ and exhort them ‘to go a-hunting after better game.’
Here is one of these conversations of Fontainebleau, which she herself relates:
As a youth was riding one day to the wood,
He asked of a lady so wise and good
If the game he sought for could be found
In the forest that spread so thickly round;
For the young man’s heart with desire beat high
To kill the deer. The dame, with a sigh,
Replied: ‘It’s the season for hunters, ’tis true,
But alas! no hunter true are you.
‘In the wood where none but believers go
Is the game you seek, but do not know;
It is in that bitter wood of the cross
Which by the wicked is counted dross;
But to huntsmen good its taste is sweet,
And the pain it costs is the best of meat.
If that your mind were firmly set
Every honour but this to forget,
No other game would be sought by you....
But ... you are not a hunter true.’
As he heard these words, the hunter blushed.
And with anger his countenance flushed:
‘You speak at random, dame,’ he cried;
‘The stag will I have, and nought beside.’
Margaret.
‘The stag you seek is close in view,
But ... you are not a hunter true.