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Another charming custom in Italy was for a lady to recall herself to the recollection of her friends by means of a little present. Vittoria Colonna sent her portrait to Bembo, accompanied by a few verses from her own hand: "Verses pure and dainty!" cries Bembo, "that touch the heart far more than a mere letter." On another occasion she charged one of her friends, who was going to Mantua, to convey to the marquis "a friendly and sympathetic" greeting, with some small token of her regard. The friend thought he was doing right in offering a basket of roses, and the marquis lost no time in sending his respectful thanks direct to the fair donor. And then Vittoria formally apologised in very affectionate terms that her messenger had "honoured him so little" as to offer so modest a souvenir.

Truth to tell, Frenchwomen showed much less feminine grace in this matter, which explains our dwelling on the charm of their Italian neighbours. The most Italianised of them could not attain this seductive charm. In all the correspondence of Margaret of France you will not find one letter recalling those we have just quoted almost haphazard. Margaret did indeed sedulously strive to attain that charm, as we cannot but perceive, but her languishings resulted in little else than prolixity. It will not do to strain one's talent.

Renée of France, though she became duchess of Ferrara, never acquired the Italian trick; she continued to write with French brevity. Diana of Poitiers and the duchess of Etampes amaze us by the almost arid precision of their style; they might have given points to the most dry-as-dust of attorneys; there is never a sign of a gust of passion or of love's finesse. The rising generation of Henri II.'s time came nearer the attainment of a pleasant style. The king's two daughters, Madeline and Margaret, wrote excellent hands-easy, graceful, even, with a uniform slope, the letters broad and clear, the whole style very distinguished; and they employed pleasant and engaging forms, phrases of genuine affection, especially in their family correspondence.1

1 Here are some samples of these private letters:

"Monsigneur, tant et si tres humblement que je puis a vostre bonne grace me recommende.

Monsigneur, je vous suplie tres humblement croire que la créance que remais a ce porteur n'est que la plus grande obaissence que james tres

But they too were at their best in short notes, and their most pleasing letters are always very brief. The higher charm remained the secret of Italy.

humble fille ne servente vous saroit porter et coume la plus obligée de ce monde.

Monsigneur, prie Dieu qui vous dont tres bonne et tres longue vie. Voutre tres humble et tres obaissente fille, Magdalene.

Address: Au Roy mon souverain seigneur."

[My lord, as truly and as humbly as I can I commend myself to your good favour.

My lord, I beg you very humbly to believe that the letter of credit I confide to this carrier is only the greatest obedience that ever humblest maid and servant could bear to you, and like the most dutiful in the world. My lord, I pray God to give you a very good and very long life.

Your very humble and very obedient daughter,
Magdalene.]

"Ma cousine, je n'ay point voullu que ce porteur soit passé par Chantilli sans vous porter de mes laitres; je vous en usses plutost envoié, mes les piteulses nouvelles qu'avons repsues de Hedin m'an onst engardé, car je n'aime poinct a mander de mauvesses nouvelles, et en cete perte j'ay esté tres esse d'entendre que Monsieur le conte de Villars vostre frere est seulement prisonnir (sic) avecq tant d'onneur que je suis sure que vos prieres luy onst beaucoup servi. Vous feres tant pour moy, ma cousine, de croire que tout ce qui vous touchera que je ceray mervelleucement esse qu'il soint anci hureulx comme vous le desires et moy anci ce que je suplie de bien bon cueur Dieu et de vous donner bonne vie et longue et a moy l'eur de vostre bonne grasse a laquelle de bien bon cueur me recommande.

Vostre melieure cousine et amie,
Marguerite de France.

A ma cousine Madame la connestable [duc]esse de Montmorency." [My cousin, I would not let this carrier pass through Chantilly without taking some letters from me for you. I should have written sooner, but the dreadful news we have received from Hedin has prevented me, for I do not care to send bad news, and in this loss I was very glad to hear that the count of Villars your brother is only a prisoner, with so much honour that I am sure your prayers have much profited him. You will do so much for me, my cousin, as to believe that, in all that touches you, I shall be wonderfully glad if all falls out as lucky as you desire, and myself too, and I pray God so with all my heart, both to give you a good and long life, and me the bliss of your good favour, to which with all my heart I commend myself. Your best cousin and friend, Margaret of France.]

“Mon pere, je ne voulu leser aler se pourteur sans vous faire savoir de mes nouvelles, lequeles sont bonnes, pour se que je aeudire souvan des vostres qai me pabise (?) bien, car s'et au proufit du roy et a vostre ouneur Je prie Dieu vous i vouloyr tenir; je ne veus oblier a vous faire mes reconmandasions bien fort voustre bonne grase.

A Monsieur le grant maistre."

Vostre bonne fille,
Marguerite.

[My father, I would not allow this carrier to go without letting you have news of me, which are good, because I have often had news of you which please me, for 'tis to the profit of the king and your honour. I pray that God will keep you in the same; I do not forget to commend myself very earnestly to your good favour.

Your good daughter,
Margaret.]

"Mon pere, j'ay esté tres esse d'entendre par vostre cegretere presant porteur du bon partement du Roy et du vostre et aucy que toutes les afaires continuent de mieulx en mieulx; cant a cele conpagnie, la Royne et monsieur ce portent tres bien, aucy faict tout le reste. Nous ne fesons faute de prier bien Dieu tout les jours pour le Roy; après luy, mon pere, je vous puis assurer que vous estes le prumier (sic) en mes auraisons. Je vous prire (sic), mon pere, presanter mes tres humbles recommandasions au Roy et me tenir en sa bonne grasse et an la vostre. A laquelle de bien bon ceur me recommande, et prie Dieu vous donner bonne vie et longue.

Vostre milieure figle et cousine, Marguerite de France.-A mon pere, Monsieur le connestable."

[My father, I was very glad to hear by your secretary the present bearer of the good departure of the king and yourself, and also that affairs are going better and better: as to this company, the queen and monsieur (the king's brother) are very well, as are all the rest. We do not neglect to pray God every day for the king: after him, my father, I can assure you that you are the first in my prayers. I beg you, my father, to present my very humble greetings to the king and to keep me in his good favour and in yours. To which with much love I commend myself, praying God to give you good and long life.

Your best daughter and cousin,

Margaret of France.]

BOOK III. THE INFLUENCE OF WOMEN

CHAPTER I

POLITICAL INFLUENCE

THE foregoing pages will have enabled the reader to see how little the platonist women sought to exert a direct influence in affairs. They aimed rather at moral and social influence. In no sense were they women of action, believing likely enough that the course of events would become modified naturally when men had changed. Conforming to the aphorism, "Woman is supreme only as woman, they devoted themselves to the skilful development of the sources of their superiority, leaving their inferiorities carefully in the shade. They avoided all masculine modesthe rustic sort of sexless unattractive women, most at home in the stables, strong-minded creatures who looked for a love they never inspired; they studiously left to men the keen-edged activities of life-law, politics, military service, all the needful barriers against social inundation. Louise of Savoy was almost the only woman who so far cherished the old ideas as to regret that she was a woman; who loved to play a part in politics, and whose intelligence and energy won praise in terms that recalled the great women of the past, notably Blanche of Castile. She was a realist of the old type, who had lovers as a matter of course, but gave scant thought to winning hearts: thus wholly differing from the new order of women. And yet, by a singular chance in the working of the old laws of monarchical succession, the world has perhaps never seen more women

called to fill the places of men in the sphere of statecraft. After all, monarchy is not a principle of pure reason: it is incapable of mathematical demonstration: it is a principle springing wholly from sentiment. Its advantage lies in this that in a world of tragic pettiness it gives a nation something to love.

Many women played important parts in these masculine struggles, among which they were thrown in their own. despite. The period was one of constant turmoil, and they had no opportunity of enjoying a life of quiet secluded happiness.

Among them was that unhappy mother, Isabella of Aragon, who was persecuted by Ludovico il Moro, the uncle, and, as some said, the assassin of her husband, and held captive in France by Louis XII-a luckless, warmhearted, valiant figure who, in the effort to win Milan back for her son, maintained a desperate struggle with the whole of Europe.

Then too there was Joan of Aragon, that beautiful sunny-haired woman, with features of rare distinction and sweetness, in her day the idol of Nifo and the prototype of beauty. She had married Ascanio Colonna, a soldier of fortune who had brought his affairs to a desperate pass. Poor woman! On every side she saw blank desolation. She had just lost her eldest son by a sudden death when creditors began to harass her and drive her second son to ruin; and from the magnificent windows of the Colonna palace, where she was imprisoned by order of Pope Paul IV., she saw the pontifical troops marching by on the way to seize her castles. She could endure it no longer. One morning she disappeared, no one knows how, but probably in disguise: at one of the gates of Rome she found a horse ready saddled, and she performed the astonishing feat of riding to Naples without drawing rein. At Naples she became the centre of a cruel strife: her husband had her son arrested, and the son denounced the father. Ascanio fell, struck by an unknown dagger. And when his charming wife, whose golden hair had never a fleck of grey, came in her turn to die, they must bury her with her husband, and could find for the shuddering tomb no inscription but the touching words: "A great-hearted woman, a very loving wife."

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