In fact the said Queen was for practising and proving true the Spanish saw or proverb, which saith, munca muger aguda murio sin herederos, “no clever woman ever died without heirs;” or in other words, an if her husband make her none, she will call in other help to get her end. Now M. d’Angoulême did reflect and sware he was going to be wise and refrain; yet tried and tempted again and again with the wiles and advances of the fair Englishwoman, did presently throw him more fiercely than ever into the pursuit of her. Such the effects of love and passion! such the power of a mere bit of flesh and blood, that for its sake men will surrender kingdoms and empires, and altogether lose the same, as we find over and over again in History. Eventually M. de Grignaux, seeing the young man was bent on his own undoing and the carrying further of his amour, told Madame d’Angoulême, his mother, of the matter, which did so reprove and smartly chide him, as that he gave up the sport once and for all.
None the less ’tis said the Queen did all she could to live and reign as Queen Mother for some little while before and after the death of the King her husband. However she lost him too soon, and had no sufficient time to carry through her purpose. Yet even so, she did spread the report, after the King’s death, that she was pregnant. Accordingly, albeit naught really inside her belly, ’tis said she would swell out the outside thereof by means of linen wrappages gradually more and more every day, and that when her full time was come, she did propose to have ready a supposititious child of another woman, and produce this at the instant of her pretended delivery. But the Queen Regent, which was from Savoy and knew somewhat about child-bearing and the like, seeing things were going somewhat too fast for her and her son, had her so well watched and examined of physicians and midwives, that her wrappages and clouts being noted, she was found out and baulked in her design, and instead of being Queen Mother was incontinently sent back to her own country.
See the difference betwixt this Princess Mary and our good Queen Louise, which was so wise, chaste and virtuous, she did never desire, whether by true or false pretence, to be Queen Mother. But an if she had wished to play the like game as other, there would have been little difficulty, for there was none to watch her with any care,—and ’twould have sore surprised not a few. And for her behaviour our present King doth owe her much thanks, and should love and honour her greatly; for an if she had played this game, and had brought forward an infant, her own or another’s, the King instead of being what he is, would have been but a Regent of France, mayhap not even that. And this feeble title would ill have guarded him from many more wars and troubles than he hath actually had.
I have heard some, both men of religion and of the world, hold and maintain this opinion: that our Queen would have done better to have played this part, and that in that case France would never have endured so much wretchedness, poverty and ruin as she hath now, and is like to have, and the True Faith better supported into the bargain. As to this I can but refer me to those gallant and curious questioners which do debate these points (but myself do believe never a word of it, for we be all right well satisfied with our King, God save him!) for them to pronounce judgment thereon; for they have a fine subject, and one admitting wide discussion as to the State’s best interests, though not as to God’s, as seemeth me. To Him our Queen hath always been deeply devoted, loving and adoring Him so well, that to serve Him, she would e’en forget herself and her high estate. For being a very beauteous Princess (the King indeed did choose her for her beauty and high virtues), and young, tender and most charming, she did give up herself to naught else but only to serve God, do her devotions, visit constantly the hospitals, heal the sick and bury the dead, forgetting nor omitting any of the good and holy works which in this province the holy devout and righteous ladies, Princesses and Queens of days of yore, did practise in the early Church. After the death of her husband, she did ever lead the same life, spending her time in weeping and mourning for him, beseeching God for his soul; and in fact her life as a widow was of the same holy character as her married life had been.
’Tis true she was supposed, during her husband’s lifetime, to have leaned somewhat to the side of the party of the Union, because, being so good a Christian and Catholic as she was, she did naturally prefer them which were fighting and contending for her Faith and Religion; yet did she never more favour them, but quitted their faction altogether, after their assassination of her husband, though claiming no other vengeance of punishment as a right but what it should please God to inflict, not that she did not duly petition men, and above all our King, with whom lieth the performing of justice for this monstrous deed of a man of religion.[116] Thus both an married life and widowhood, did this excellent Princess live blameless. Eventually she died in the enjoyment of a most noble and worthy repute, having long languished in sickness and grown hectic and parched,—’twas said owing to her overmuch indulgence in sorrow. She made a very excellent and pious end. Just before her death, she had her crown placed at the head of her bed close beside her, and would never have it removed from there so long as she yet lived, directing that after her death she should be crowned and so remain till her body was laid beneath the ground.
She did leave behind her a sister, Madame de Joyeuse,[117*] which was her counterpart in her chaste and modest life, and did make great mourning and lamentation for her husband; and verily he was a brave, valiant and well accomplished Lord. Beside, I have heard say, how when our present King was in such straits, and shut up and imprisoned as in a bag in Dieppe, which the Duc du Maine held invested with forty thousand men, that an if she had been in the place of the Commander of the town De Chastes, she would have had revenge of the death of her husband in a very different fashion from the said worthy Commander, who for the obligations he lay under to M. de Joyeuse, ought never to have surrendered, in her opinion. Nor did she ever like the man afterward, but did hate him worse than the plague, being unable to excuse a fault as he had committed, albeit others deem him to have kept faith and loyalty according to his promises. But then an angry woman, be the original cause of offence just or unjust, will take no satisfaction; and this was the way with this Princess, who could never bring herself to like our reigning monarch, though she did sore regret the late King and wore mourning for him, and this although she did belong to the League; for she always declared both her husband and she did lie under many obligations to him. In fine, she is a good and a wise Princess, and one that is honoured by the grief and respect she did show to the ashes of her husband,—for some while that is, for eventually she did marry again with M. de Luxembourg. So young as she was, was she to consume away in vain regrets forever?
6.
The Duchesse de Guise, Catherine of Clèves, one of the three daughters of the house of Nevers (all three Princesses that can surely never be enough commended, no less for their beauty than for their virtue and on whom I have writ a separate chapter in another place), hath celebrated and doth celebrate all her days in right worthy fashion the irreparable loss of her noble husband; but indeed what a husband was he! He was truly the nonpareil of the world, and this and no less she did call him in sundry of her letters, the which she writ to some of her most familiar friends and lady companions, which myself also did see after her bereavement, showing them plainly therein by the sad and mournful words she used with what sore regrets her soul was wounded.
Her noble sister-in-law, Madame de Montpensier,[118*] of whom I do hope to speak further elsewhere, did also bewail her husband bitterly. Albeit she did lose him when still very young, and beautiful and charming for many perfections both of mind and body, she did never think of marrying again,—and this although she had wedded him when a mere child in years, and he might have been her grandfather, so that she had tasted but sparely with him of the fruits of wedlock. Yet would she never consent to indulge a second taste of the same and make up her defect and arrears in that kind by another marriage.
I have heard not a few noblemen, gentlemen and great ladies oftentimes express their wonder that the Princesse de Condé, the Dowager Princess I mean, of the house of Longueville, did always refuse to marry again, seeing how she was one of the most beautiful ladies in all France, and one of the most desirable. But she did remain satisfied with her condition of widowhood, and would never take a second husband, and this though left a widow very young.