for a while, it was believed that the battle was lost.  “If it had been,” says Montluc, “I think that it was all over with France, for the state would have changed, and so would the religion; a young king can be made to do as you please;” Catherine de’ Medici showed a facile resignation to such a change.  “Very well,” she had said, “then we will pray to God in French.”  When the victory became known there was general enthusiasm for the Duke. of Guise; but he took only a very modest advantage of it, being more anxious to have his comrades’ merits appreciated than his own.  At Blois, as he handed the queen-mother her table-napkin at dinner-time, he asked her if he might have an audience of her after the repast.  “Jesu! my dear cousin,” said Catherine, “whatever are you saying?” “I say it, madame, because I would fain show you in the presence of everybody what I have done, since my departure from Paris, with your army which you gave in charge to me together with the constable, and also present to you all the good captains and servants of the king and of yourself who have served you faithfully, as well your own subjects as also foreigners, and horsemen and foot;” whereupon he discoursed about the battle of Dreux, “and painted it so well and so to the life,” says Brantome, “that you would have said that they were still about it, whereat the queen felt very great pleasure. . . .  Every one listened very attentively, without the least noise in the world; and he spoke so well that there was none who was not charmed, for the prince was the best of speakers and eloquent, not with a forced and overladen eloquence, but simple and soldierly, with a grace of his own to match; so much so that the queen-mother said that she had never seen him in such good form.” [Brantome, Tries des Brands Capitaines, t. ii. pp. 247-250.] The good form, however, was not enough to prevent the ill-humor and jealousy felt by the queen-mother and her youthful son the king at such a great success which made Guise so great a personage.  After the victory of Dreux he had written to the king to express his wish to see conferred upon a candidate of his own choosing the marshal’s baton left vacant by the death of Saint-Andre.  “See now,” said Charles IX. to his mother and some persons who were by, “if the Duke of Guise does not act the king well; you would really say that the army was his, and that victory came from his hand, making no mention of God, who, by His great goodness, hath given it us.  He thrusts the bargain into my fist (dictates to me).  Yet must I give him a civil answer to satisfy him; for I do not want to make trouble in my kingdom, and irritate a captain to whom my late father and I have given so much credit and authority.”  The king almost apologized for having already disposed of the baton in favor of the Marquis de Vieilleville, and he sent the Duke of Guise the collar of the order for two of his minions, and at the same time the commission of lieutenant-general of the kingdom and commander-in-chief of the army for himself.  Guise thanked him, pretending to be satisfied:  the king smiled as he read his letter; and “Non ti fidar, e non sarai gabbato” (Don’t trust, and you’ll not be duped), he said in the words of the Italian proverb.