For the moment, the great thought that occupied every mind at Fontainebleau was the marriage of the ‘very prudent and magnificent Madame Renée.’ The gentlemen of France and of Ferrara appeared at court in sumptuous costumes; the princes and princesses glittered with jewels; the halls and galleries were hung with rich tapestry. Dance and rejoice, make holiday For her whose love fills every heart.[655] All of a sudden, on the morrow of Pentecost, a message fell into the midst of this brilliant and joyous company which excited the deepest emotion. A letter was handed to the king, and the effect it produced was like that occasioned by a clap of thunder in a cloudless sky. Francis, who held the letter in his hand, was pale, agitated, almost quivering, as if he had just received a mortal insult. His anger exploded in an instant, like a mountain pouring out torrents of lava. He gave way to the most violent passion, and swore to take a cruel revenge. Margaret, terrified by her brother’s anger, did not say a word, but withdrew, in alarm, to silence and prayer: she scarcely ventured an attempt to calm her brother’s emotion. ‘The incensed king,’ says the chronicler, ‘wept hard with vexation and anger.’[656] The court fêtes were interrupted: the courtiers, joining in unison with their master, called loudly for violent measures, and Francis departed suddenly for Paris. What had caused all this commotion? The festival of Pentecost (Whitsunday) had been celebrated with great pomp on the 30th of May, 1528; but the devotionists, neglecting the Father, the Son, and above all the Holy Ghost, had thought of nothing all the day long but of worshipping the Virgin and her images. In the quarter of St. Antoine, and at the angle still formed by the streets Des Rosiers and Des Juifs, at the corner of the house belonging to the Sire Loys de Harlay, stood an image of the Virgin holding the infant Jesus in her arms. Numbers of devout persons of both sexes went every day to kneel before this figure. During the festival the crowd was more numerous than ever, and, bowing before the image, they lavished on it the loftiest of titles: ‘O holy Virgin! O mediatress of mankind! O pardon of sinners! Author of the righteousness which cleanses away our sins! Refuge of all who return unto God!’[657] These observances had bitterly grieved those who remembered the old commandment: _Thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou serve_.