The Duke's favourite hunting-seat was at Château de Pont-Ain,[203] high up on the hill overlooking Bresse and Bugey. Many a day the dark woods around echoed the merry note of the horn, and the deep bay of his hounds, as Philip and Marguerite rode forth together. She with "the ivory horn hung in a sling, mounted on a spirited palfrey, followed her very dear lord and spouse, in hot chase of the horned stags, by wood and plain, by mountain and valley, fearing not the ardour of the sun nor the toil of the hunt, so that by her careful presence she could guard him from all misfortune." On a very hot morning, in September, 1504, the young prince, led far afield by the excitement of the chase, "and almost separated from his party, who could follow him no longer, was passing, at mid-day, a long and narrow valley, on foot, because his horses, by reason of the long ride, were dead or broken down." Arriving, breathless and bathed in perspiration, at the Fontaine St. Vulbas, he was charmed by the cool shade of the place, and ordered his meal to be served to him there. Before long, feeling himself seized with a sudden shivering fit, he ordered his horse, and began his homeward journey, "holding his hand to his chest, then commencing to bend forward and to be in great agony." He reached the Castle at last, and threw himself down upon a camp bed, "beside which came soon, all troubled in heart, the very dear Duchess, his very dear spouse and companion, who, seeing her lord and friend lying ill, and nevertheless not knowing as yet of her great mourning so soon to be, began to comfort him very sweetly, and to cheer him with all her power." For several days the young prince battled with a violent attack of pleurisy; but, at last, in spite of bleeding and many prayers, even his strong constitution gave way, and the lovers knew that they must part. "And himself feeling his end drawing near, rose and would fain bid an eternal farewell to his very loved companion, holding her in a strong embrace." He died in the arms of Marguerite, on the 10th September, 1504, in the very room in which he had been born, twenty-four years before, in the Château de Pont-d'Ain. The brief days of Marguerite's happiness were closed. Coming years were to bring their measure of consolation to the stricken woman; but, as she herself, a poetess of sorrow, wrote in verse, whose graceful melodies recall the plaintive notes of Charles D'Orléans, henceforth for her Deuil et ennuy, soussy, regret et peine, Ont eslongué ma plaisance mondaine, Dont a part moy, je me plains et tourmente; Et en espoir n'ay plus un brin d'attente: Véez là, comment Fortune me pourmeine. Ceste longheur vault pis que mort soudaine; Je n'ay pensé qui joye me rameine; Ma fantasie est de déplaisir pleine; Car devant moy à toute heure se présente Deuil et ennuy.[204]