is dying.  Such is her anguish of suspense that she exclaims, “Whoever comes to my door to announce to me the cure of the King my brother, were such a messenger weary, tired, muddy, and dirty, I would embrace and kiss him like the cleanest prince and gentleman in France; and if he lacked a bed and could not find one to repose upon, I would give him mine, and would sleep on the floor for the sake of the good news he brought me.” (2)

     1 Lettres de Marguerite, &c., p. 473.

     2 OEuvres de Brantome, 8vo, vol. v. p. 233.

No one, however, had the courage to tell her the truth.  It was a poor maniac who by her tears gave her to understand that the King was no longer alive.  Sainte-Marthe records the incident as follows:  “Now the day that Francis was taken away from us (Margaret herself has since told me so), she thought whilst sleeping that she saw him looking pale, and calling for her in a sad voice, which she took for a very evil sign; and feeling doubtful about it, she sent several messengers to the Court to ascertain the condition of the King her brother, but not a single one of them returned to her.  One day, her brother having again appeared to her while she was asleep (he had already been dead fifteen days), (1) she asked the members of her household if they had heard any news of the King.

     1 Francis I. died March 31, 1547.

“They replied to her that he was very well, and she then went to the church.  On her way there she summoned Thomas le Coustellier, a young man of good intelligence and her secretary, and as she was telling him the substance of a letter that she wished to write to a Princess of the Court, to obtain from her some news of the King’s health, she heard on the other side of the cloister a nun, whose brain was somewhat turned, lamenting and weeping loudly.  Margaret, naturally inclined to pity, hastened to this woman, asked her why she was weeping, and encouraged her to tell her whether she wished for anything.  Then the nun began to lament still more loudly, and looking at the Queen, told her that she was deploring her ill-fortune.  When Margaret heard these words she turned towards those who were with her, and said to them, ’You were hiding the King’s death from me, but the Spirit of God has revealed it to me through this maniac.’  This said, she turned to her room, knelt down, and humbly thanked the Lord for all the goodness He was pleased to show her.” (1)

After losing her brother, Margaret remained in retirement at the convent of Tusson.  She stayed there, says Brantome, for four months, leading a most austere life and discharging the duties of abbess.  She still continued in retirement on her return to Beam, mainly occupying herself with literary work.  It was in 1547, subsequent to the death of Francis, that John de la Haye, her secretary, published at Lyons her Marguerites de la Marguerite, poems which she had composed at various periods, and which De la Haye probably transcribed at her dictation.(2)