The Entire Memoirs of Marguerite de Valois | Page 7

am, you will find me always ready to do you service, since I am so happy as to discover that my fortune has not been able to blot out my name from the memory of my oldest friends, of which number you are one. I have heard that, like me, you have chosen a life of retirement, which I esteem those happy who can enjoy, as God, out of His great mercy, has enabled me to do for these last five years; having placed me, during these times of trouble, in an ark of safety, out of the reach, God be thanked, of storms. If, in my present situation, I am able to serve my friends, and you more especially, I shall be found entirely disposed to it, and with the greatest good-will."
There is such an air of dignified majesty in the foregoing letter, and, at the same time, such a spirit of genuine piety and resignation, that it cannot but give an exalted idea of Marguerite's character, who appears superior to ill-fortune and great even in her distress. If, as I doubt not, the reader thinks the same, I shall not need to make an apology for concluding this Preface with it.
The following Latin verses, or call them, if you please, epigram, are of the composition of Barclay, or Barclaius, author of "Argenis," etc.
ON MARGUERITE DE VALOIS, QUEEN OF NAVARRE.
Dear native land! and you, proud castles! say (Where grandsire,[1] father,[2] and three brothers[3] lay, Who each, in turn, the crown imperial wore), Me will you own, your daughter whom you bore? Me, once your greatest boast and chiefest pride, By Bourbon and Lorraine,[4] when sought a bride; Now widowed wife,[5] a queen without a throne, Midst rocks and mountains [6] wander I alone. Nor yet hath Fortune vented all her spite, But sets one up,[7] who now enjoys my right, Points to the boy,[8] who henceforth claims the throne And crown, a son of mine should call his own. But ah, alas! for me 'tis now too late [9] To strive 'gainst Fortune and contend with Fate; Of those I slighted, can I beg relief [10] No; let me die the victim of my grief. And can I then be justly said to live? Dead in estate, do I then yet survive? Last of the name, I carry to the grave All the remains the House of Valois have.
1. Francois I. 2. Henri II. 3. Francois II., Charles IX., and Henri III. 4. Henri, King of Navarre, and Henri, Duc de Guise. 5. Alluding to her divorce from Henri IV.. 6. The castle of Usson 7. Marie de' Medici, whom Henri married after his divorce from Marguerite. 8. Louis XIII., the son of Henri and his queen, Marie de' Medici. 9. Alluding to the differences betwixt Marguerite and Henri, her husband. 10.This is said with allusion to the supposition that she was rather inclined to favour the suit of the Due de Guise and reject Henri for a husband.

MARGUERITE DE VALOIS.

BOOK 1.
LETTER I.
Introduction.--Anecdotes of Marguerite's Infancy.--Endeavours Used to Convert Her to the New Religion.--She Is Confirmed in Catholicism.-- The Court on a Progress.--A Grand Festivity Suddenly Interrupted.-- The Confusion in Consequence.
I should commend your work much more were I myself less praised in it; but I am unwilling to do so, lest my praises should seem rather the effect of self-love than to be founded on reason and justice. I am fearful that, like Themistocles, I should appear to admire their eloquence the most who are most forward to praise me. It is the usual frailty of our sex to be fond of flattery. I blame this in other women, and should wish not to be chargeable with it myself. Yet I confess that I take a pride in being painted by the hand of so able a master, however flattering the likeness may be. If I ever were possessed of the graces you have assigned to me, trouble and vexation render them no longer visible, and have even effaced them from my own recollection. So that I view myself in your Memoirs, and say, with old Madame de Rendan, who, not having consulted her glass since her husband's death, on seeing her own face in the mirror of another lady, exclaimed, "Who is this?" Whatever my friends tell me when they see me now, I am inclined to think proceeds from the partiality of their affection. I am sure that you yourself, when you consider more impartially what you have said, will be induced to believe, according to these lines of Du Bellay:
"C'est chercher Rome en Rome, Et rien de Rome en Rome ne trouver."
('Tis to seek Rome, in Rome to go, And Rome herself at Rome not know.)
But as we read with pleasure the history of the