Her ladies of honor obeyed her as they would their God.  Marguerite of Valois said of her:  “I did not dare to speak to her, and when she looked at me I trembled for fear of having done something that displeased her.”  Ladies who had been delinquent were stripped and beaten with lashes; for correction—­frequently for mere pastime—­she would have them undressed and slapped vigorously with the back of the hand.  Francoise of Rohan, cousin of Jeanne d’Albret, wrote the following poem: 

  “Plus j’ai de toi souvent este battue,
  Plus mon amour s’efforce et s’evertue
  De regretter ceste main qui me bat;
  Car ce mal-la m’estait plaisant esbat. 
  Or, adieu done la main dont la rigueur
  Je preferais a tout bien et honneur.”

[The more often I have been struck by you, the more my love struggles and strives to regret the hand that beats me; for that punishment was a pleasant pastime for me.  Now farewell to the hand whose rigor I preferred to every fortune and honor.]

The following portrait and poetry, taken from M. Saint-Amand, does the subject full justice:  “Catherine de’ Medici represented with a sinister glance, deadly mien, mysterious and savage aspect—­a spectre, not a woman—­is not true to nature.  Her self-possession, cool cunning, supreme elegance, imperturbable tranquillity, calmness, moderation, noble serenity, and dignified poise, gave her an individuality such as few women ever possessed.  Gentle in crime and tragedy, polite like an executioner toward his victim—­this Machiavellianism which is equal to every trial, which nothing alarms or surprises, and which with tranquil dexterity makes sport of every law of morality and humanity—­this is the real character of Catherine de’ Medici.”  The following burlesque poetry was composed for her: 

  “La reine qui ci-git fut un diable et un ange,
  Toute pleine de blame et pleine de louange,
  Elle soutint l’Etat, et l’Etat mit a bas;
  Elle fit maints accords et pas moins de debats;
  Elle enfanta trois rois et trois guerres civiles,
  Fit batir des chateaux et ruiner des villes,
  Fit bien de bonnes lois et de mauvais edits. 
  Souhaite-lui, passant, enfer et paradis.”

[The queen lying here was both devil and angel, blamed and praised; she both put down and upheld the state; she caused many an agreement and no end of disputes; she produced three kings and three civil wars; she built castles and ruined cities, made many good laws and many bad decrees.  Wish her, passer-by, hell and paradise.]

With the reign of Henry IV.—­the first king of the house of Bourbon, and the first king of the sixteenth century with a will of his own and the courage to assert it—­begins a period of revelling, debauch, and the most depraved immorality.  Three mistresses in turn controlled him—­morally, not politically.