The gentleman, knowing how well she stood with her mistress, sought to soothe her, but he found it impossible to do so; for, leaving him where he stood, she furiously betook herself to her mistress, who, loving Jambicque as she did herself, left all the company to come and speak with her, and, on finding her in such great wrath, inquired of her what the matter was.  Thereupon Jambicque, who had no wish to hide it, related all the gentleman’s discourse, and this she did so much to the unhappy man’s disadvantage, that on the very same evening his mistress commanded him to withdraw forthwith to his own home without speaking with anyone and to stay there until he should be sent for.  And this he did right speedily, for fear of worse. (4)

4 It has been mentioned in note 2 that the gentleman in question was Brantome’s uncle La Chastaigneraye.  Born, according to most accounts, in 1520, Francis de Vivonne, Lord of La Chastaigneraye, was a godson of Francis I., and early displayed marked skill and prowess in all bodily exercises and feats of arms.  He was, however, of a very quarrelsome disposition, and had several duels.  A dispute arising between him and Guy de Chabot, Lord of Jarnac, they solicited permission to fight, but Francis I. would not accord it, and it was only after the accession of Henry II. that the encounter took place.  The spot fixed upon was the park of St. Germain-en-Laye, and the King and the whole Court were present (July 10, 1547)—­In the result, La Chastaigneraye was literally ham-strung by a back-thrust known to this day as the coup de Jarnac.  The victor thereupon begged the King to accept his adversary’s life and person, and Henry, after telling Jamac that “he had fought like Caesar and spoken like Cicero,” caused La Chastaigneraye to be carried to his tent that his wound might be dressed.  Deeply humiliated by his defeat, however, the vanquished combatant tore off his bandages and bled to death.—­Ed.

So long as Jambicque dwelt with her mistress, the gentleman returned not to the Princess’s house, nor did he ever have tidings of her who had vowed to him that he should lose her as soon as he might seek her out. (5)

5 After referring to this tale Brantome adds that he had heard tell of another Court lady who was minded to imitate Jambicque, but who, “every time she returned from her assignation, went straight to her room, and let one of her serving maids examine her on all sides to see if she were marked.  By this means she guarded herself against being surprised and recognised, and indeed was never marked until at her ninth assignation, when the mark was at once discovered by her women.  And thereupon, for fear of scandal and opprobrium, she broke off her intrigue and never more returned to the appointed spot.  Some one said ’twould have been better if she had let her lover mark her as often as he liked, and each time have had his marks effaced, for in this wise she would