"I believe that the fate with which you have often threatened me is really in store for me, and that I shall submit to be governed by a woman whom I shall try to please."[560]

But there still remained some troublesome details to arrange. All through Holy Week, Christina stayed at her post, while the French and Spanish delegates wrangled over the citadels to be given up by Henry and Philip respectively. On Maundy Thursday a sharp contest arose between Ruy Gomez and the Cardinal on this point. Both parties left the room angrily, and a complete rupture seemed imminent.

"They fell suddenly to such a disagreement," wrote Howard, "that they all rose up, determined to break off and depart home the next morning, being Good Friday."[561]

The Cardinal ordered his rooms to be dismantled and his beds and hangings packed, and on Good Friday morning he and his colleagues had already put on their riding-boots, when Christina appeared at the door and made a last appeal.

April, 1559] CHRISTINA'S EFFORTS

"The Duchess," wrote the Venetian Tiepolo, "regardless of personal fatigue, went to and fro between the Commissioners, with the greatest zeal, ardour, and charity, imploring them to come together again."[562]

Seven years before, on another Good Friday, in her own palace, Christina had knelt in an agony of grief at the King of France's feet, asking to be allowed to keep her only son. To-day she pleaded with tears and prayers, in the name of the same Christ who died on the cross, for the suffering thousands who were sighing for peace. This time her prayer was heard. The Cardinal was induced to meet the Spanish delegates once more, and, after a conference which lasted over seven hours, it was decided that King Philip should keep Asti and Vercelli, and surrender all the other citadels which he held in Savoy. Ruy Gomez hastened to the Abbey of Groenendal to obtain his master's consent to this plan, and, to the amazement of the whole Court, the Cardinal appeared suddenly at La Ferté Milon, at dinner-time on Easter Day. Happily, there was little difficulty in arranging matters. Madame Marguerite told her brother plainly that he ought not to let her marry the Duke, if he treated him with suspicion, and Henry bade her be of good cheer, for all would be well.[563]

On Easter Tuesday the Commissioners held another meeting at Mon Soulas, and by the following evening the terms of the treaty were finally arranged. The Cardinal embraced the young Princesses of Lorraine, and the Duke bade his mother farewell, and rode off as fast as his horse could take him to bear the good news to the French King. All the Commissioners attended a solemn Te Deum in the church, and bonfires were lighted in the town. "Thanks be to God!" wrote the Constable to his nephew, Coligny: "Peace is made, and Madame Marguerite is married."[564] One point still awaited settlement. The Princess Elizabeth's hand had been originally offered to Don Carlos, but the Constable brought back word that Henry would greatly prefer his daughter to wed King Philip himself. The plan had already been mooted at an earlier stage of the Conference, but it was not until Philip saw that there was no hope of marrying the Queen of England that he consented to wed the French Princess. On the 2nd of April, when the articles of the treaty were being drafted, the Constable made a formal proposal from his master to the Duchess, who, after a few words with Arras and Ruy Gomez, graciously informed him that King Philip was pleased to accept his royal brother's offer.[565]

"It seems a bold step," wrote Tiepolo, "for the Catholic King to take to wife the daughter of the Most Christian King, who had been already promised to his son, especially as marriage negotiations with the Queen of England are still pending. But, seeing how this Queen has already alienated herself from the Church, he has easily allowed himself to be brought over to this plan, which will establish peace more effectually, and will no doubt please the French, who are above all anxious to keep him from marrying the Queen of England."[566]