2 Brantome writes as follows concerning the gentleman referred to above:  “According to what I have heard from my mother, [Anne de Vivonne, wife of Francis de Bourdeille], who was in the Queen of Navarre’s service and knew some of her secrets, and was herself one of the narrators [of the Heptameron, i.e., Ennasuite], this gentleman was my late uncle La Chastaigneraye, who was brusque, hasty, and rather fickle.  The tale, however, is so disguised as to hide this, for my said uncle was never in the service of the great Princess, who was mistress of the lady [Jambicque], but in that of the King her brother.”  This shows the Princess to have been Queen Margaret herself; and Jambicque, being described by Brantome as a widow and lady of honour to the Princess, might possibly be Blanche de Tournon ( Madame de Chastillon), concerning whom see vol. i. of the present work, p. 84 (note 7) and pp. 122-4.  Her successor as lady of honour to Margaret was Brantome’s own grandmother, of whom he says that she was not so shrewd, artful, or ready-witted in love matters as her predecessor.  On the other hand, Blanche de Tournon must have been over forty when La Chastaigneraye engaged in this adventure, even allowing that he was only a youth at the time.—­Ed.

The regard which she had for honour and good name caused her to conceal her affection, but after she had been consumed by this passion for a full year, being unwilling to find relief as other lovers do in look and speech, she felt her heart so aflame that, in the end, she sought the final cure.  And she resolved that it were better to satisfy her desire with none but God in the secret of her heart, rather than speak of it to a man who might some time make it known.

After taking this resolve, she chanced to be one day in her mistress’s apartment, when, looking out upon a terrace, she perceived walking there the man whom she so dearly loved.  She gazed upon him until the falling darkness was hiding him from her sight, when she called a little page of hers, and pointing to the gentleman, said—­

“Do you see yonder that gentleman who wears a crimson satin doublet and cloak of lynx fur?  Go and tell him that one of his friends would speak with him in the garden gallery.”

As soon as the page was gone, she herself passed through her mistress’s wardrobe and into the gallery, having first put on her low hood and half-mask. (3)

     3 See ante, vol. iii. p. 27.

When the gentleman was come to where she was waiting, she immediately shut the two doors by which they might have been surprised, and then, without taking off her mask, embraced him very closely, and in the softest whisper imaginable said—­

“For a long time, sweetheart, the love I bear you has made me desire time and place for speaking with you, but fearfulness for my honour was for a while so strong as to oblige me, in my own despite, to conceal my passion.  Albeit, in the end, the strength of love has vanquished fear, and, in the knowledge that I have of your honour, I protest to you that if you will promise to love me without ever speaking of the matter to any one, or asking of me who I am, I will be your true and faithful sweetheart, and will never love any man but you.  But I would rather die than that you should know who I am.”