Everything appeared in France to incline towards peace and joy. The court was at Fontainebleau, where Francis I. and the Duchess of Angoulême, the King and Queen of Navarre, and all the most illustrious of the nobility, had assembled to receive the young Duke of Ferrara, who had just arrived (20th of May, 1528) to marry Madame Renée, daughter of Louis XII. and Anne of Brittany. It was a time of rejoicing. Francis I., whose favourite residence was Fontainebleau, had erected a splendid palace there, and laid out ‘beautiful gardens, shrubberies, fountains, and all things pleasant and recreative.’--‘Really,’ said the courtiers, ‘the king has turned a wilderness into the most beautiful residence in christendom--so spacious that you might lodge a little world in it.’[651] Foreigners were struck with the magnificence of the palace and the brilliancy of the court. The marriage of the daughter of Louis XII. was approaching: there was nothing but concerts and amusements. There were excursions in the forest, and sumptuous banquets in the palace, and learned men (says Brantôme) discoursed at table on ‘the higher and the lower sciences.’ But nothing attracted the attention of the foreign visitors so much as the Queen of Navarre. ‘I observed her,’ says a bishop, a papal legate, ‘while she was speaking to Cardinal d’Este, and I admired in her features, her expression, and in every movement, an harmonious union of majesty, modesty, and kindness.’[652] Such was Margaret in the midst of the court; the goodness of her heart, the purity of her life, and the abundance of her works spoke eloquently to those about her of the beauty of the Gospel. The princess, who was compelled to take part in every court entertainment, never let an opportunity pass of calling a soul to Jesus Christ. In the sixteenth century there was no evangelist, among women at least, more active than her; this is a trait too important in the French Reformation to be passed by unnoticed. The maids of honour of the Duchess of Angoulême were no longer the virtuous damsels of Queen Claude. Margaret, feeling the tenderest compassion for these young women, called now one and now another to Christ; she conjured her ‘dears’ (as she styled them) not to be ‘caught by pleasure,’ which would render them hateful to God. Farewell, my dear! The court I flee To seek for life Beneath the tree. If that my prayer Could influence thee, Thou shouldst not linger After me. Stay not, my dear, But come with me, And seek for life Beneath the tree.[653]