Confederation. Henry VIII. had already shaken off the yoke of the Church. Francis was already too well with the Lutherans; constantly irritated by the Sorbonne, constantly influenced by his semi-Lutheran sister, it was possible that he might dare the wrath of the Church and of the Empire to make the head of a league which should include both the Protestants and Soliman.
Fatally blind to the larger interests of his kingdom, Francis, too, saw cause for gratulation in the peace. Firstly, it secured the Milanese, or, at worst, the Netherlands. The treaty also rid the kingdom of two powerful armies drawn up within a few leagues of Paris. However confident the Dauphin might be in his successful generalship, Francis knew very well that Paris had hitherto been saved, not by the Dauphin, but by the disunion between the Emperor and Henry VIII. The treaty would free his kingdom of their dangerous conjunction; and it would bring many advantages to the court; a glorious provision for young Charles, a surcease from trouble to the King, whose wife lay in a nervous fever while her brother made war on her husband. Her dangerous illness had touched her kind-hearted though unfaithful consort; he could not but remember how much he owed this nervous and saddened woman. Anne de Pisseleu, who was not so patient under disappointment, would be satisfied. And what, after all, would Francis resign? His word of honour, his influence in Europe, his independence, and the glory of his people. But none of these things can be seen or weighed; none of them can be kept without continual struggle. Francis was old and tired. He found peace and plenty preferable to them all.
