The further to alienate the Catholic powers from each other, she simultaneously approached the emperor to revive the proposal of marriage with the Archduke Charles, and to Catherine de Medici to drop a hint that she—­Elizabeth—­might marry the young King of France, Charles IX., a youth barely half her age—­anything to prevent a combination against her and the marriage of Don Carlos with Mary Stuart.  Catherine de Medici had her own reasons at the time for smiling upon Elizabeth’s suggestion.  She did not wish to be bound too tightly to Spain and the Catholics, for fear of the Huguenots; and in February 1565, she wrote to Elizabeth, saying that she would be the happiest of mothers if she could see her dearly beloved sister of England married to her son, Charles IX.

Elizabeth was full of maidenly hesitation.  She was too old for him; perhaps he would not think her beautiful, and so on; but she took care to say that there was no one else she could marry, as she would not wed a subject.  The Huguenots actively pushed the proposal, and Leicester pretended to favour it, though Cecil was against it on many grounds.  But it was never seriously meant.  It brought the Huguenots to Catherine’s side on the eve of her voyage to renew the Catholic league with Philip, and it brought the Archduke Charles once more forward as a suitor for Elizabeth’s hand.  When it had thus served its purpose, the idea of the mature English queen marrying the boy Charles IX. was dropped.

The Austrian’s new advances were looked upon somewhat askance by Spain, until his attitude towards religion was assured, and, to have a second string, the Spanish ambassador, Guzman, affected to favour Leicester’s suit.  Cecil and the conservative nobles were sincere now in their advocacy of the archduke, and between the two parties Elizabeth steered coquettishly and diplomatically, modestly urging the archduke’s coming, and yet flirting desperately with Leicester.  The breach between the English nobles was profound, as all but Leicester wished the question of the queen’s marriage and succession to be settled; and Leicester’s chances were stronger than ever when it became clear, late in 1565, that the archduke would not come to England without a firm pledge.  The French played off Leicester, too, against the archduke; sometimes even again suggesting their own king when Leicester’s star waxed pale.

Later, in 1566, the Lords and Commons urged the queen to marry, even Leicester joining in the remonstrance.  But Elizabeth wished to play the game in her own way, and soundly scolded them.  She did not mean to marry the archduke, or perhaps anyone, but whilst she kept him dangling, she knew she need not fear the Catholic combination.  Soon all danger from that quarter disappeared for a time.  Philip was in death struggle with his Protestant subjects in Holland; civil war was again raging in France, and Mary Stuart was a disgraced prisoner in the hands of her enemies.  In the nine years that Elizabeth had carried on the marriage comedy she had kept the balance whilst England was growing stronger.  Now, in 1568, she could afford to rest from her labours until danger from abroad again loomed.