The next day the Queen again ordered me to be summoned, and during the interview I contrived to introduce the question of her marriage to the new King (Henry III.) by alluding to the reports now current; many people set her down as his future bride, I remarked, and if the union were to take place, it would, in my opinion, harmonise with your Majesty’s views and policy. Her reply was such as to make it perfectly plain the suggestion was by no means to her liking; and yet I could see that she did not intend to be obstinate; she will, I am sure, place herself in her father’s hands, and further his interests and wishes by every means in her power.[8]
I also touched on the Constantinople matter, as your Majesty directed. She promised to bear it in mind when the Queen Mother returned. I will then make it my business to remind her of it.
I went to her a third time to ask that, as your Majesty’s principal reason for sending me here was that I might look after her interests, she would kindly give orders to the maréchaux de logis to provide me with proper quarters in the neighbourhood, and she at once complied with my request.
As to other matters, there is no news of any importance. The King is expected to arrive at Lyons today, where the Queen Mother, Alençon, and Vendôme[9] have been for some time awaiting him. Disturbances are still going on in Poitou and the neighbouring provinces. The King, they say, is preparing to exert his influence, and, if need be, to put them down with a strong hand. He has hired 5,000 Swiss, besides reiters from Germany, and some thousands of Italian musketeers.
With regard to our business, not much, I see, can be done here while the King is away, and so, if I was not afraid I might transgress the rules of etiquette, I should like to run home for a few days. But I cannot make up my mind, as I hardly know what people here might think; otherwise I see no objection, as I had your Majesty’s permission.
Montmorency and Cossé[10] are still confined in the Bastille, and both are so strictly guarded by the people,[11] that passers-by cannot so much as bow to them without danger.
Yesterday there arrived here Master John Koch, whose misfortune has been a great grief to me. Today I took the letters he brought to the Queen, and she immediately answered them.
Paris, September 10, 1574.