[LETTER XXII.]
Not long ago I called upon the King of Portugal’s Ambassador, and a few days later he returned my call. I had a conversation with him which is perhaps of no great importance, but it is as well that your Majesty should hear of it.
He spoke of the Queen in the highest terms, and then let fall some words of regret at the bereavement she had undergone. Her husband, he remarked, had died in the flower of life, and she was very young to be a widow. On my replying that it was God’s will, and we must accept His decrees without murmuring, the Ambassador interrupted me with a remark that the Queen would have great difficulty in finding a second husband of such rank as would justify her in marrying him, seeing that her first husband had been a very great and powerful King.
Hereon I remarked that it was by no means an unusual thing for the queens of great kings, on the death of their husbands, to marry potentates of inferior rank, and sometimes to take even dukes as their husbands. I was able to quote, as an instance, Mary, the sister of Henry VIII., King of England, who on the death of her first husband, Louis XII., King of France, was, at her brother’s desire, married in England to the Duke of Suffolk. ‘Still,’ said the Ambassador, ‘if I am any judge of looks, she is too proud to marry anyone lower in rank than her first husband.’ Thereon I replied, that I had good reason to know that any idea of a second marriage was most distasteful to the Queen, who cherished in her heart the memory of the husband she had lost, but never could forget. Still, I observed, she was a lady of great judgment and discretion, one who would, I was sure, always be willing to take her parents’ advice and submit to their wishes. The Ambassador expressed his appreciation of such discretion, and we proceeded to discuss other topics, coming back at last to the old subject, and talking of the connection between the Houses of Austria and Portugal, which dates from the time of the Emperor Frederic.[76] He concluded his remarks by saying that he hoped to see the old alliance renewed by another marriage between the two Houses.
By the way, I must not forget to say that just before this he had been expressing his regret at the Queen’s leaving France, and going so far away.
Whatever may be the meaning of his observations, I see no reason for hiding them from your Majesty.
As to the other matters, Damville,[77] who was lately reported as dead, appears to have come to life again; the prayers of his friends have had more weight than those of his enemies; but, after all, it is a very common thing in France for people to accept idle rumours as established facts, without suspending their judgment or giving themselves time to ascertain the truth. It is quite certain that he was very ill, and some declare that his symptoms indicated poison. Montmorency is now more gently dealt with, and receives the same treatment as he did before the rigour of his confinement was increased.
The delegates of the insurgents are expected here in the course of a few days, with the answer of their party as to peace or war. Endless people have endless reasons to give for expecting that the answer will be favourable. For my own part, I should be sorry to express an opinion one way or the other; indeed, so many changes take place, and so many rumours are about, that I should not like to pledge myself for anything I had not seen with my own eyes. Meanwhile war is going on, but it does not seem to promise any decisive result calculated to affect the issue of the struggle. Insignificant towns and places are daily lost or recaptured, and the most important news we have had this long while is of a severe defeat the Swiss received the other day in Dauphiny,[78] some companies being completely annihilated.
The Queen is quite well, but cannot help fretting at the delay. She longs to return home; she is also yearning to see her daughter; her wish, however, cannot be gratified, as she has not funds for the journey; indeed, she is so poor that meals are no longer served at any table save that at which the Queen herself sits. Rations of bread and wine are issued to the rest of her people, and with this they have to content themselves as best they may.
Paris, July 7, 1575.