Revelation by Elohim. The Mystery of Diana de’Poitier

Her eyes sparkled like stars in the sky. Once again, looking at herself in the mirror, she proudly threw her head up. She was great and she knew it!

Yes, Your Majesty, I followed your advice!

And she had to admit that she was even grateful to him for it now!

The war between the two ladies

But, their relationship was not long. Francis was very careless, and Poitiers was too cold, he thought. And if at first, he liked it. Then, in the end, not being a man of deep thoughts and feelings, this cold beauty of Poitiers simply bored him. Being a lover of women, he quickly cooled down towards Poitiers.

One day, while walking with her through the avenues of the palace, he told her.

My dear, how beautiful you are.

You are undoubtedly a fragrant, blossoming rose.

But, I picked such a beautiful, unopened bud!

That I am incredibly captivated by his scent.

I hope you will forgive me for such weakness and rightly you will not be angry. He finished smiling, pleased with his poetic comparisons and with himself.

After kissing her hand, he walked away. He was still humming to himself, out of habit. She, of course, understood everything! With these words, the king told her that he had found a new lady, whom he was carried away once again. He undoubtedly offended Poitiers very much, calling her in a poetic form older than his new passion, comparing it with a blossoming rose, and a new passion with a bud. Saying at the same time that his new passion is younger than Poitiers.

I wonder who is this bud of yours? Your majesty. Snorting contemptuously, Poitiers thought.

The bud was Madame de Tamp. Poitier, knowing who it was, curled her lips, pursed them and snorted contemptuously like a thoroughbred horse.

So you think I’m old?! Your majesty. Poitiers thought as she watched the retreating king.

And I’m not talking about you at all, your majesty!

Disgusting, bow-legged old man! She added.

Squinting evil eyes, pursing and curling his lips even tighter. Feeling how everything inside her boils, with anger. Thinking of a king who was far from young and much older than Poitiers herself. If the gaze could kill, then the retreating figure of the king would fall dead!

She snorted with even greater relish, narrowing her eyes, and they flashed with unkind fire.

The bud was a young and rather attractive Mademoiselle de Tempe. She was really good, as Diana pointed out. Seeing this beautiful, blond girl. Her corset seemed to be tightened so tightly that she was probably carrying snuff with her, Poitier thought to herself. Afraid, at any moment she would faint from lack of air. Diana thought with a chuckle.

De Tamp was as white as only blondes. With a thin, as if transparent, with a pink tint and a slight blush of youth itself, the skin. They disliked their friend’s arcs at first sight.

But, the war, which was dubbed «The War of the Two Ladies,» started de Tamp, who was 10 years younger than Poitiers. And so her adherents began to talk about the faded beauty of Poitiers. Even poets and artists took part in this strife.

Diana was called a witch at court. Because, despite her years, she was surprisingly good. And even the younger maidens next to her looked very faded. They said about her that she knows the secret of some ointments and remedies. Especially infuriated by these rumors the Duchess de Tamp, who considers herself the first beauty. The fruit of this hatred became silly rhymes, pamphlets in which poets from her camp ridiculed Diane de Poitiers. Calling her: «Toothless and hairless, an old horse and a mushroom, which owes its appearance only to cosmetics.» On the instructions of de Tamp, more than one disgusting pamphlet offending Diana was written.

The pamphlets wrote: «Women cannot be reborn. Because those whom time has chosen to use, along with time, go out of use. Painted bait does not attract game. And even if you bought everything a woman needs. I would not have achieved what I wanted from a lover, because for love you have to be alive! And you are dead! This, undoubtedly, was completely untrue, and not as it could not harm Diana.

Because she looked no older than de Tamp herself, even though she was much older in years. Moreover, Poitiers could not be called a painted doll, since she used very little cosmetics. All this, of course, was a lie! Because Diana was undoubtedly beautiful. And these pamphlets only angered Poitiers terribly. She had no intention of forgetting or forgiving de Tamp. She swore to herself, to avenge the filth for the dirty trick! Poitier’s answer was not long in coming. Poets, in the Poitiers camp, and there were very few of them. They wrote response pamphlets to de Tamp «About too tightly tightened de Tamp’s corset and too out of proportion to the head. Its imperfect skull resembles an elongated egg. «The entire courtyard was divided into two camps. So the artist Primaticchio, all the time painted the Duchess de Tamp. His paintings were adornments of the royal gallery. And Benvenuto Cellini chose the beautiful Diana as a model. So, the war of poets and artists has begun! Which was full of barbs and comparisons, cleverly hidden in poetry, but so clearly hinting at this or that lady. War of two beauties!

Prince

Diana, having lost the king’s favor. She was practically alone in the circle of not many supporters. Whereas de Tempe, being the king’s favorite. She had the disposition of most of the courtiers. Her supporters caught her every word. Admiring her talents and beauty. Throwing in the direction of Poitiers malicious taunts and derision. But, Poitiers passing by the crowd of courtiers and hearing nasty things say in her back, did not even raise an eyebrow. They spoke deliberately so loudly that she could hear. Openly taunting her.

And then one morning Diana was walking in the garden. Not in a very good mood. The headdress on her head, as always, interfered with her. He didn’t want to stay on her head. Diana, in turn, simply could not stand them. This morning she was very annoyed, and the headdress disturbed her especially. Poitiers corrected him endlessly. She tugged at him somehow awkwardly; trying to correct him again and accidentally tore him up. The beads and precious stones sewn to it came off and rolled down into the grass like a hail.

Oh damn it! She swore inwardly.

She didn’t have the funds for new gems right now. Therefore, looking around like a thief and not noticing anyone nearby, she sank down to the grass, crouching down. And-oh-horror! She took off her glove and began to look for precious stones in the grass, collecting them. Hoping to later give them back to the seamstress, carried away by this occupation. Suddenly I heard a voice behind my back. The voice belonged to a man.

Have you lost something, madam? He asked.

She froze in horror.

Oh my god! She was scared.

She climbs with her hand in the grass, and there is no glove on her hand!

It was all the height of indecency!

Unworthy behavior of a lady of her position!

And now they’ll definitely call her a redneck!

And the vile de Tamp will write another vile pamphlet. This is undoubtedly! Diana thought about all this, frightened. She slowly and not boldly turned her head to the voice, remaining to sit over the flower bed. And she saw a handsome young man towering over her. He was a little dark and dark-haired. He looked at her with attentive eyes, black as night. He was dressed relatively simply, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps this young man came with someone’s retinue. Accompany some noble and wealthy courtier. So with de Tamp, he may not know. He smiled sweetly at her when he saw her frightened and confused look. She answered him awkwardly with an embarrassed smile.

He repeated the question.

Madam, have you lost something?

Oh, she replied, naively.

Pebbles fell off my headdress.

I tugged at it awkwardly and they fell into the grass. She finished naively, smiling wider at him.

Can I help you? He simply answered. And without waiting for her answer, he sat down next to her, began to diligently collect pebbles, swarming in the grass.

Seems like everything. He said, handing her all the pebbles he had collected.

She held out her little dirt-stained pen. Businesslike before this, brushing off his soiled hand on his other hand. He silently watched her actions. Seeing this, his eyebrows went up slowly. She smiled at him even wider and took the pebbles, busily putting them in a bag and putting on gloves, as if nothing had happened.

Oh! Thank God! Poitiers thought. It turned out to be this sweet young man, and not someone else. And nobody will know anything!

What are you doing here? She began the conversation with a question, so as not to be silly not to be silent.

I write poetry. Simple, he replied.

Poems? Poitiers was surprised, looking at the young man with interest and more closely.

What about you? He answered, question to question.

I haven’t seen you here before.

However, I only recently returned, he added.

You must have appeared in my absence.

She looked at him with interest.

So you’ve been at court long enough? Here in Paris? She asked the following question.

Well, you could say long enough. Smiling, he answered.

Oh yes, and how do you find it here? She asked.

He put on a sour expression, smiling. The answer is simple.

Pretty boring.

She laughed loudly.

You’re joking right!

You’re bored in the funniest place in all of France!

He gave her a big smile, enjoying her amusement.

So you write poetry? She continued.

Yes, he replied. Suddenly becoming serious.

Would you like to read it to you? He asked suddenly.

Yes, of course, Poitiers answered with interest.

He read the verse. It was about a butterfly and a rose. Diana listened intently to him. He finished reading.

Well, how do you like it? He asked. You like?

Yes, she answered honestly. You definitely have a good syllable.

But I think they seem to be missing something. Something I think is important. She added, thoughtfully.

What then? He asked with interest.

She continued just as thoughtfully, looking into the distance.

You see a flower and a butterfly, its gentle flutter. But, you don’t look further, deeper. To the very depth.

A month will pass and the rose will wither. And this butterfly will also die, its time is short. She spoke, still thoughtfully. Moving your gaze to the beautiful rose. She was silent, for a moment, and as if breathing air with a slight smile, she added.

But, the next year will come and the rose will be reborn and bloom. And the butterfly will also flutter over the rose. She finished speaking. I looked him straight in the eyes; they were the depth of the ocean. I would say this:

«Two roses will lie at the foot of the marble.

Butterflies will fly up to them carelessly.

Is it too early for us to despair?

We will be forever»!

She finished smiling. Her eyes seemed to sparkle with genuine joy. The young man looked at her with his black, pensive eyes and was silent. He was very serious. Finally, he spoke. Slowly not taking his eyes off her.

Yes, you’re right. I think I understand. Something was really missing.

She suddenly remembered that she had to go a long time ago. Find the old widow, in whose retinue she was still a member. She completely forgot about her, carried away by a conversation with a young man.

Forgive me, but I need to leave you. She told him.

I’ll show you. The young man answered.

She said she seemed to be lost and could not find the old widow she was a member of. She said the lady’s name and he laughed.

Ah, this is that old owl-like lady who loves jewelry so much. He said smiling.

She laughed heartily, amused.

So you noticed the similarities too. She sang in her beautiful voice, continuing to laugh. And this is exactly what Poitiers called the old widow.

Yes, he replied, laughing in turn. Getting infected with her laughter and fun.

I think I saw her. Come, I will take you, if you will, and he gallantly offered her his hand.

And they walked slowly down the alley, talking about poetry. Diana suddenly saw the hated Mademoiselle de Tamp. Diana stopped and her brows slowly drew together on the bridge of her nose. He also stopped, looking in the direction of Poitiers, that is, at de Tamp. She turned her head and looked at him and suddenly asked.

Don’t you find this lady very beautiful?

He looked at her and answered calmly.

It seems to me that her corset is too tight and she will even faint, so she probably abuses blush so as not to give out the pallor of her face.

There is nothing interesting in this lady for me. He replied, looking at Diana smiling.

I think the fairest lady of all the fairest is standing next to me right now. He smiled at her again.

She looked at him suspiciously. Trying to look into his very soul, into his eyes black as night, suspecting him of flattery. But, he looked at her with an honest and open look. He really seemed to say what he thought.

Oh, what a nice young man he is! Thoughts jumped in Poitiers’ head, joyfully.

She was ready to kiss him on both cheeks. She smiled at him sincerely. He reached out again and offered his hand to her. They continued on their way down the alley, when in the distance she recognized the silhouette of the old widow. They headed towards her, where she stood surrounded by her ladies. Poitiers suddenly remembered.

Oh my god! We didn’t even introduce ourselves. And she smiled at him apologetically.

Diana. Diana de Brese.

Yes, I know. He answered with a smile.

Heinrich, madam, at your service.

You know?! She was surprised.

But, I didn’t have time to say anything else, as they almost approached the standing ladies. He did not have time to fully introduce himself. They were interrupted by an old widow who saw them and quickly walked towards them. She was already next to them, out of breath. She stopped next to them, froze for a moment in place and, as if recollecting herself, sat down in a deep curtsy, greeting Diana’s companion. Her ladies followed her example. Poitiers was taken aback by surprise. After all, only kings and all the offspring of royal blood are greeted with a deep curtsy. Heinrich smiled at the ladies with his sweet smile and answered them with a bow of his head, greeting them.

Madam, what a pleasure to see you here again. He turned to the old lady.

I have brought your seemingly lost lady to you.

Ah, thanks! I didn’t think Madame de Brese was lost. The old widow answered.

Always at your service, madam. Heinrich answered.

With your permission, I have to leave you now. Heinrich said to the widow.

Saying goodbye to her and the ladies nodding his head gallantly. He looked at Diana, smiling at her. He kissed her hand goodbye, barely touching her thin skin with his lips.

I hope we’ll see you soon. And let’s talk again about poetry. I’ll look forward to it, he told her.

She smiled back at him in utter confusion. Still not understanding the old widow’s behavior, and surprised by her venerable curtsy. He said a couple more pleasantries to the old widow, turned around and walked slowly away, leaving. Diana stood, still not understanding what had happened. She was completely confused and asked, finally, coming out of her stupor, from a lady standing next to her.

Explain to me if you please. Who owned all these curtsies, and in whose honor are they?

Who is he?

God! Expensive! The lady answered.

Do you know who was seeing you off?!

This is Prince Henry de Valois, Duke of Orleans!

She sang dreamily.

Ah! How can you, however, get lost!

And then, pouting her lips, she sighed enviously, looking after the retreating prince.

How I wish they could find me that way too! The lady sighed.

Obviously upset that she wasn’t lost.

Prince! Poitiers thought in horror.

Remembering how she climbed with her bare hand without a glove in the grass.

What a horror!

She turned pale. Some time ago, she was sure that she was lucky. That this shame of her was seen by this sweet young man, and not by someone else. But, already now she was ready to burst into tears. Because he turned out to be a prince! It couldn’t have been worse. She almost sobbed out loud, trying not to cry. She looked completely dejected and even unhappy. It was so strange to see, so clearly not joyful her face, the lady, with envy, looked in her direction.

Henry, Duke of Orleans! She thought.

And suddenly another picture from the past came to mind. Little frightened, black-eyed boy. She looked at the figure of the retreating Heinrich. She froze, remembering how she hugged a small, forgotten child. She suddenly felt sad. How many years have passed! He became a handsome young man. How many years! She thought, remembering her no longer young age, which the king reminded her of. Vile de Tamp, too, did not let her forget about it. But, now she felt it especially acutely, remembering the boy and seeing today a beautiful young man, whom he had become. Heinrich became a handsome young man. He was young and well built. He was recently by the sea and was sunburned and dark-skinned, like a corsair sailing the seas. He had a thick shock of black hair and the same attentive, serious and incredibly black eyes as in childhood, as deep as the darkest night. Henry and his brother Francis returned from captivity four years later. Children in captivity were not merciful. Heinrich endured this test with courage. His brother turned out to be weaker, and got a lung disease in captivity, returned to his homeland extremely painful. Henry, being the second son of the king and not being heir to the throne, later went into the army, hoping to make a brilliant military career. He liked it. He often disappeared in the barracks among the soldiers than at court in the company of elegant courtiers. Not really loving and favoring balls and fun in the palace. Preferring to all this, hunting. This was his main addiction, as well as fights in tournaments. By nature, a rather calm young man, on a hunt and in a duel, he seemed to become a different person. No one could compare with him in fights. Opponents flew out of the saddle at the first blow, his hand was heavy. His impact was legendary. Once the blow was so strong that not only the rider fell, but also his horse. Also on the hunt, no one could compare with him in dexterity and accuracy. The booty has always belonged to him. He chased the poor beast like a hurricane, sweeping away everything in its path. Because of that, the young prince was a secret and obvious dream of many women’s hearts. And the ladies did not bother to lust for a prince, despite the fact that Henry was married.

He was married to Catherine Maria Romula di Lorenzo de Medici. The Medici family actually ruled Florence. Originally bankers, they came to great wealth and power by funding European monarchs. Catherine’s father Lorenzo II Medici, Duke of Urbino, was not originally a Duke of Urbino and became so thanks to his uncle Giovanni Medici, Pope Leo 10. Thus, despite the ducal title, Catherine was of a relatively low birth. However, her mother, Madeleine de La Tour, Countess of Auvergne, belonged to one of the most famous and ancient French aristocratic families. This greatly influenced the future marriage of Catherine.

The death of Pope Leo 10 led to a break in the power of the Medici family on the holy throne, until in 1523 Cardinal Giulio di Medici became Pope Clement 7.

In 1527, the Medici in Florence was overthrown and Catherine became a hostage. The Pope had to recognize and crown Charles 5 of Habsburg, Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire. In exchange for his help in the return of Florence and the release of the young duchess. In October 1529, the troops of Charles 5 laid siege to Florence. During the siege, calls and threats appeared to kill Catherine and hang her on the city gates or send her to a brothel to dishonor her. Although the city resisted the siege, on August 12, 1530, famine and plague forced Florence to surrender. Clement met Catherine in Rome with tears in his eyes. It was then that he started looking for a groom for her. Considering many options, but in 1531 the French king Francis 1 proposed the candidacy of his second son, Henry. Clement jumped at the chance right away. The young Duke of Orleans was the most profitable party for his niece Catherine.

At the age of 14, Catherine became the bride of the French prince Heinrich de Valois. Her dowry amounted to 130,000 ducats and vast estates including Pisa, Livorno and Parma.

Catherine was not beautiful. She looked like a discarded fish on the seashore with the same bulging colorless eyes, as if she had a suffocating disease. A large mouth with thin, colorless lips and an incomprehensible light shade of hair in small curls. Some even claimed that she was an exact copy of Pope Leo 10. At a young age, being like a holy father is by no means a compliment.

A wedding held in Marseilles on October 28, 1533. Became a big event marked by extravagance and giving out gifts. Europe has not seen such a congregation of the highest clergy for a long time. The ceremony was attended by Pope Clement himself, accompanied by many cardinals. After the wedding, 34 days of continuous feasts and balls followed. At the wedding feast, Italian chefs introduced the French court to a new dessert made of fruit and ice; this was the first ice cream.

But, Pope Clement 7 died unexpectedly. Paul 3, who replaced him, terminated the alliance with France and refused to pay Catherine’s dowry. Catherine’s political value suddenly vanished. Having thus worsened her position in a foreign country. King Francis 1 complained: «The girl came to me completely naked.» Catherine, who was born into a merchant family in Florence, where her parents were not so preoccupied in order to give their offspring a versatile education, was very difficult in the refined French court. She was an ignoramus who did not know how to construct phrases gracefully and made many mistakes in her letters. Not able to be graceful in such a refined society. Behind her eyes they called her a merchant

Several days passed. Poitiers did not meet Henry. De Tamp did not write new pamphlets, which indicated that Henry kept her little secret. And she breathed a sigh of relief. The thought of him was undoubtedly pleasant to her. He’s still incredibly sweet. Poitiers thought. Walking with the ladies and the old widow along the alleys of the palace park. Arriving in this frame of mind, she noticed a figure approaching in the distance, recognizing her as Henry.The ladies noticed him too. It was evident in the way they perked up as they chirped and tweaked their hairstyles. Poitiers noticed the ladies’ animation. She seemed to be pricked by something sharp and unpleasant somewhere inside. She snorted to herself at the ladies. Throwing a prickly gaze full of needles at them. The ladies pretended not to notice. But, nevertheless, they quieted down. Heinrich approached, smiling at them all with his sweet, amiable smile. It seemed to her that a little more and the ladies would begin to dance in curtsies, they bowed so earnestly. She sat down in an elegant curtsy. After greeting him. He fixed his gaze on her and smiled at her affably. Turned to an old widow. With a few niceties to the old lady. Why she became even more like an owl.

Diana involuntarily smiled at this.

Let me steal your lady, madam. He finished his tirade of courtesies to the widow.

I promise to return her to you soon. He assured the old lady.

Unless madam doesn’t mind. He turned already to Poitiers.

She smiled at him and of course she didn’t mind!

They walked away under the envious glances of the ladies. They walked in the park, enjoying the scent of roses, birdsong and each other’s company.

He wrote new verses and read them. This time the poems were about the rose and its beauty and fragrance. She, of course, realized that he dedicated his poems to her. Comparing it to a wonderful flower. He finished reading and looked at her carefully.

Asked.

Do you like it? He was clearly worried.

Hiding his worries, but he barely succeeded.

She smiled at him, noticing his concern.

Answered.

They are beautiful.

Do you think they might be missing something too? He asked at last.