[109] This was no exaggeration, as the following extract from the Diary of a contemporary will show: ‘Le lundi 5^e décembre, la Roine veufve, madame Ysabel d’Austriche, partist de Paris, pour s’en retourner à Vienne, chés son père et sa mère: et lui bailla le Roy messieurs de Luxembourg, comte de Rais, et l’évesque de Paris, pour l’accompagner: qui la rendirent entre les mains des députés par l’Empereur son père, pour la recevoir à Nanci en Lorraine. Elle fut fort aimée et honorée par les François tant qu’elle demeura en France, nommément par le peuple de Paris, lequel, plorant et gémissant à son départ, disoit qu’elle emportoit avec elle le bonheur de la France.’—_De l’Estoile_, i. 95. Miss Freer (_Henry III._, vol. ii. p. 40), says ‘the Queen quitted Paris during the first week of August, 1575.’ She was led into this error by the description given by Godefroy (_Le Cérémonial François_, i. 927) of Elizabeth’s entrance into Orleans on August 21, and has confounded her journey to Amboise (see p. 96), with her return to Germany. [110] I.e., Hither Austria. The possessions of the House of Hapsburg in Swabia and Alsace. [111] This is the lady who refused to marry Henry VIII. because she had only one head! See note p. 63. [112] The incidental touches, in which Busbecq makes us acquainted with the character of his mistress, require some little additions in order to place before the reader an adequate idea of this good and interesting lady. She was born June 5, 1554, and was consequently a baby of a few months old when Busbecq started for the East. She was married to Charles IX. of France, Nov. 26, 1570, when she was but sixteen. In her new sphere she quickly won the respect and love of all who knew her. Two years after her marriage, and just before the birth of her daughter, came the Massacre of Saint Bartholomew. During that awful night she was quietly sleeping, unaware of the horrors that were passing around her. Next morning she heard the news, ‘Hélas, dit-elle soudain, le Roy mon mary, le sçait-il?—Ouy, madame, repondit-on: c’est luy mesme qui le fait faire.—O mon Dieu! s’escria-t-elle, qu’est cecy? et quels conseillers sont ceux-là qui luy ont donné tel advis? Mon Dieu, je te supplie et te requiers de luy vouloir pardonner; car, si tu n’en as pitié, j’ay grande peur que cette offense ne luy soit pas pardonnée.’—_Brantôme_, v. 297.