Seldom did they venture to interfere with the intrigues of the mistress; in their uncertain position, any manifestation of resentment or opposition resulted in humiliation and disgrace; if wise, they contented themselves with quietly performing their functions as dutiful wives.  Such women were Claude, daughter of Louis XII., and Eleanor of Spain—­wives of Francis I.; lacking the power to act politically, both passed uneventful and virtuous lives in comparative obscurity.  The wife of Charles IX.—­Elizabeth of Austria, daughter of Maximilian II.—­had absolutely no control over her husband; however, he condescended to flatter himself with having, as he said, “in an amiable wife, the wisest and most virtuous woman not only of France and Europe, but of the universe.”  Her nature is well portrayed in the answer she gave to the remark made to her, after the death of her husband:  “Ah, Madame, what a misfortune that you have no son!  Your lot would be less pitiful and you would be queen-mother and regent.”  “Alas, do not suggest such a disagreeable thing!” she replied.  “As if France had not afflictions enough without my producing another to complete its ruin!  For, if I had a son, there would be more divisions and troubles, more seditions to obtain the administration and guardianship during his infancy and minority; all would try to profit themselves by despoiling the poor child—­as they wanted to do with the late king, my husband.”  Returning to Austria, she erected a convent, treated the nuns as friends and refused to marry again even to ascend the throne of Spain.

Louise de Vaudemont, wife of Henry III, was a French woman by birth and blood.  After the death of the Princess of Conde, whom he passionately loved and desired to marry, Henry conceived an intense affection for Louise, daughter of Nicholas of Lorraine, Count of Vaudemont—­a young lady of education and culture—­“a character of exquisite sweetness lends distinction to her beauty and her piety; her thorough Christian modesty and humility are reflected in her countenance.”  Brantome wrote:  “This princess deserves great praise; in her married life she comported herself so wisely, chastely, and loyally toward the king that the nuptial tie which bound her to him always remained firm and indissoluble,—­was never found loosened or undone,—­even though the king liked and sometimes procured a change, according to the custom of the great who keep their full liberty.”  Soon after the marriage, however, Henry began to make life unpleasant for the queen, one of his petty acts being to deprive her of the moral ladies in waiting whom she had brought with her.

Louise de Vaudemont was a striking contrast to the perverted woman of the day; the latter, no longer charmed by the gentler emotions, sought the exaggerated and the eccentric, extraordinary incidents, dramatic situations, unexpected crises, finding all amusements insipid unless they involved fighting and romantic catastrophes. “Billets doux were written in blood and ferocity reigned even in pleasure.”