THE SPANIARDS MONARCHY, AND LEAGVERS OLYGARCHIE. LAID OPEN IN AN ADVERISEMENT, written by Signior VASCO FIGVEIRO a Gentleman of Portugal to the rebellious French: wherein is discovered the tyranny of the one over the kingdom of Portugal, and the treacherous rebellion of the other in the kingdom of France, with a pathetical persuasion to the French to return to the obedience of their natural and legitimate king.  
Englished by H. O.  Praeiudicium saepè tollit omne judicium. 
Imprinted at London by Richard Field for john Harison. 1592.   

TO THE GENTLEMEN READERS.  
courteous Gentlemen, to your censures I commit this labour of mine, small and simple, it is the first (I will not say) it may be the last. If you accept and applaud it, I am thoroughly animated to enter into some matter of more consequence, & such as I know shallbe acceptable. What the vulgar either imagine or speak, I care not: for with Horace.  Non ego ventosae plebis suffragia venor. 
It is no feather of fancy, for that I account it base, to fetch such light merchandise so far as Valentia. If you expect extraordinary elegancy, I answer, that a Translator is bound rather to search fit words, to express his Author's meaning, then invent words running on the letter, to content over-curious fancies, which I contemn as dictionary method; and thus much can I assure you, that albeit it hath no title fetched from the Bull within bishop's gate, as a fig for a Spaniard, yet doth it discover so succinctly and briefly, a Spanish imitation of Machiavellized axioms, that what other volumes at large, this in a leaf doth plainly demonstrate. If any object, that this treatise serveth for french men, and not appertinent to us. I answer, that their wit reacheth no further than their own home. For is not our Island the mark that Philip's ambitious humour especiaily aimeth at? hath he not sent his invincible Armada, to make a conquest of our ultima insula? Nay would he not repute himself an absolute Monarch, if he might but get any interest within us? And have not we a viperous brood of puritan Papists, and reconciled Leaguers, that dream upon a new invasion? with good foresight by this treatise they may be warned, and true subjects armed. Which success God grant.  
Yours H. O.   

A FAITHFUL ADVERTISEMENT OF signor VASCO FIGVEIRO A GENTLEMAN OF Portugal unto the rebellious French.  
IF the Greek Achamenides showed himself so careful for the safety of the Troyans' his sworn enemies, that after having discoursed of the horrible cruelties, that the Prince Ulysses and his people had received by the hand and tooth of the cruel Antropophage Poliphemus, he admonished them to fly with diligence from the Sicilian shore, the repair of that inhuman Cyclops. It seemeth unto me, by a more forcible reason, as well for the ancient alliance which our nation hath had with the French, as also having been disciplined in a better school, then that of this barbareus infidel: that I am obliged, by the laws both divine and human, to demonstrate unto you, so much as in me lieth, the good affection which I bear unto you. Then (Sirs) being induced by this example, and many other good reasons, knowing by experience, the tyrannical and barbarous government of Philip king of Spain, the unjust usurper of our kingdom of Portugal. And seeing you Frenchmen (I speak to the ignorant, and those which are gone astray) are come like the Troyans' to the Sicilian shore, to cast the anchor of your turbulent rebellions, and indiscréete affections, still longing for novelty, in the dangerous and unassured port of the inexorable ambition of this Philip. My desire is to advertise you as a good neighbour & charitable friend, to weigh your anchors speedily from this port, making sail to the shore from whence you have strayed: that is, to return to the duty of true and natural Frenchmen, which the impetuous wind of a temerary sedition hath caused you to abandon, and so to cast yourselves foolishly into the hands of a foreign Prince, which can not tend but to the evident ruin of your liberty. For this is he (who like that infamous Polyphemus, which acknowledged no other God but his belly) so he may feed his own insatiable ambition, careth not with what garbage soever it be: & therefore maketh no conscience wickedly to violate, even the law of God itself. Now as this miserable Achamenides made unto the Troyans', a long narration, of the inhumanities' of Polyphemus, before he exhorted them to fly, that he might not seem to amaze them, without just occasion: so am not I ignorant, that I ought by the same example, to recount in what manner Philip usurped our realm, and with what rigour he hath sithence managed his tyrannical government, lest I should be thought to build my discourse upon the wind, and induce you to avoid shipwreck, without yielding example, or pertinent reason. I could spend the time in recounting particularities, were it not that they are so manifest to the world, that it were but lost labour to rehearse them. Notwithstanding to satisfy those, which for cursed heart will yet stand in doubt, I will speak a word or two, and so away.  
It is known unto all men, that the king Henry, who before was Cardinal, the predecessor of Don Anthonio our natural and legitimate king▪ in the assembly of the estates of his realm, established five governors for the administration of the said Realm after his death, until Don Anthonio made manifest the right which he pretended to the crown: ordaining that the other competitors should not in the mean time attempt any thing upon the said Realm, upon pain, of repelling their pretensions. But while these things were in doing, Philip having corrupted by rewards and promises, three of the said governors, and many of the nobility, directly contrary to this ordinance of the said Henry and the states, entered the said Realm by force of arms, and seized himself of some especial places. Which the people and states perceiving, without any delay, because periculum erat in meum, acknowledged incontinently Don Anthonio for their sovereign, beseeching and urgently pressing him, to take upon him, the title and quality of king, which after many refusals, he condescended unto. In such sort, that he was established king, with all the solemnities thereunto required, and sithence being assisted by part of his good subjects, he came in battle against the said Philip, unto whom the fortune of war gave the victory: in such sort, that our said Don Anthonio was forced (having escaped infinite dangers of death, by the ambushes which were laid for him by the tyranny of Philip) to retire himself into France, and afterward into England. The said Philip being come to the top of this tyrannous usurpation, hath pardoned neither great nor little, neither any sex or quality, that he knew had been, or might hereafter oppose themselves to his tyranny. The Princes, Lords, Gentlemen, governors, captains, officers, Ladies: both the secular and regular, the priests and religious, partly killed in diverse manners, partly detained in perpetual prison, partly banished the Realm, part chained in galleys, and part vagabonds wandering in the forests, and hiding themselves in dens, for fear lest they should fall into the hands of these merciless hangmen, do sufficiently testify his cruel and sanguinary ambition. I will content myself with naming of some few hereafter, referring them which would know farther, to the copy of an Epistle written by our king to Pope Gregory the thirteenth, albeit that was but in the beginning of our miseries and slaughters, which are sithence so multiplied, that the number is now infinite.  
The Spaniard seeing himself enriched with the spoils of our king, contenting not himself with this pray, imagined it should serve but as a ladder, to mount up to the top of an absolute monarchy. And being drunk with the greatness of this happy success, he began to plot higher attempts in his spirit, as ambition never wanteth matter, proposing France for the mark of his other enterprises, but knowing well that he might not attempt openly, and that herein force of arms might turn rather to his damage then profit, he resolved to follow the advise of Lisander, namely, where the lions skin is not strong enough, to patch it with a piece of the fores. But then he imagined, that nothing could more securely, and more soon elevate him to the top of this greatness, than a forcible ladder of gold, underpropped with a more than Punic subtlety, and masked with a false semblance of integrity.  
Likewise seeing that he had principally two great obstacles in France, namely the late king, and Monsieur his brother: he deliberated to remove the lesser. And to come to the point of this enterprise, knowing the natural avarice and ambition of the Dukes of Guise and Maine, (who following the trace and instruction of their father, and their uncle the Cardinal, pretended to enrich their Bonnet, with the three flower deluces: and if not of all three, yet at least of a part) he easily corrupted them with rewards and promises: in so much that shortly they accorded upon the death of Monsieur, either by poison, or otherwise, and that by a Gentleman of his own train named Salsede, who being attainted, and convicted of the said enterprise, was drawn in pieces with horses in the city of Paris, having first discovered and accused those which had practised with him. But your king, who ought according to the enormity, & importance of the cause, to have made exact search, & justice upon the culpable, over whom at that time he had sufficient puissance, carried not himself toward the truth, with that diligence that the importance of the cause did merit. Et haec prima mali labes. For he knowing the humour of the abovesaid, he ought infallibly to have held them suspect of great mischiefs in his Realm.  
For all this the Spaniard altered not his enterprises, but contrarily continuing, and more and more augmenting the pensions of his two partakers, practised every day new matters. Finally a few years after he obtained that which he had long expected: for lo, Monsieur. being made away, not without evident suspicion of poison, & now the Spanish king not being able any longer to contain the heat of his ambition enclosed, or hidden, showed himself so amorous of France, that without ceasing he cheered & courted it, soliciting continually his partakers to venture: and briefly, leaving nothing undone, which he thought might conduct him to the port of his desires, which being not able to reach unto, it hammered his head, & gnawed his inwards with a tedious torment.  
Suppressing his passions, as impatient, that his partakers could not withdraw or dissuade her from her fidelity: he had recourse unto that remedy which customably foolish and desperate lovers use, namely some fine Dariolette or Magician: and indeed he searched so much and so curiously, that at last he recountered with a mischievous and crafty harlot, not ignorant in Magic, who had been engendered, nourished, brought up and entertained in the proud and magnific Palaces of Rome: whom having furnished in abundance, with all that was requisite for her affairs, recommending unto her all the artificialnes of her craft, but especially to keep herself disguised under the mask of the Catholic religion, he presently sends her into France. And this is that mischievous and traitorous harlot, which is called the holy league: a name truly fatal and pernicious to every well ordered Monarchy and common wealth.  
This sorcery and subtlety of the League is incontinently received with great applause of the partakers, & pensionaries of Philip king of Spain, who leave nothing undone that they may make her seem plausible unto France. The king himself maketh semblance of a fair countenance in entertaining it courteously, yea making great difficulty to give credit to his most faithful subjects, friends and servants, who pertinently declared that it was not begun for other end, but to withdraw France from his obedience, and finally to ravish her from between his arms. But the good prince is already so charmed by her alluring speeches, that contrarily he sweareth only by her, and acteth whatsoever she commandeth, at least giving outwardly sufficient demonstrations, like to that infortunate Priamus, who was so bewitched with the sorceries and subtleties of Helena, that instead of giving credit to the true speeches of his own daughter Cassandra (who prophesied unto him the misfortunes that should in the end fall upon him and his kingdom by means of this fair Dame) he not only taunted her as a fool, but also detained her in prison▪ Alas you Frenchmen, how many true Cassandra's hath your king had, which foretold him the ruin both of him, and you. Notwithstanding it is manifestly seen what small estimate, both he and you have made of their holy and profitable advertisements: nay you have been so far from giving credit to this infallible Oracle, that otherwise you have mocked & searched for the authors, as men guilty of some capital crime. And herein you may be compared to the Orithains, who after they had whooted and hissed at Euphraces' the Orator, they imprisoned him as a perturber of the people, for that he advertised them to take heed lest they submitted themselves under the tyranny of Philip king of Macedon, as afterward they found it too true.  
Now this damnable League, this impudent courtesan, proposing herself to corrupt the fidelity of France, gained first of all secretly those whom she knew gave most credence unto her, as many of the nobility, some of the officers, as well of the kings as of the cities, and in a manner all the Ecclesiastical persons: who (oh horrible shame) made no conscience to sell for ready money, their eloquence and knowledge (which they ought to have employed in preaching the gospel, and instructing the simple people in the fear of God and obedience to their king) to corrupt the constancy and fidelity of France, but Quid non mortalia pectora cogis auri Sacra fames? Where is the time that the kings of France, and their Magistrates, yea all good Christians, had in such indignation, those which dared to take either rewards or pensions of foreign Princes? that if any were noted with this crime, he was sure without either grace, or remission, ignominiously to lose his life: for this justice hath been one of the firmest pillars, which have so many ages sustained the excellency of this Monarchy. But sithence that kings and their officers have neglected this virtuous observation, it may easily be perceived, how the state of their Monarchy hath been more and more shaken. All other kings & princes observe inviolably this maxim, & he which infringeth it is punished according to the rigour of the law: for under shadow of these liberalities, strangers take knowledge of the estate of the realm, and so seduce the subjects. And in this manner Cambyses espied & deceived the Ethiopians.  
Now the preachers (by means of their mercenary tongues) forget no art that may serve their purpose to suborn France, but use all means possible to make the king odious unto her, in altering by little and little, by their flattering discourses the sincere amity, and faithful loyalty, which she hath always held entirely towards him: either exalting every petty imperfection, above his great perfection: either in blaming, accusing, or attributing unto another, the glory only due unto him: and contrariwise in all things magnifying the greatness, and virtues of this amorous Spaniard, whom they paint out accomplished with all the perfections that may be imagined. Briefly, they omit nothing, whereby they may subtract France from her king: who seeing, understanding, and knowing all the practices that were managed against him, notwithstanding flattereth himself, or rather is so bewitched by this League, that he will neither believe, nor chastise, the opprobrious injuries, which were publicly attached against him, yea even oftentimes to his face: so much, as it seemed, did he fear to displease or offend her, which gave such audaciousness and courage, to these naughty packs, that no man was accounted of, unless he ranged himself with the League, to vomit out a world of injuries against the authority of the king: and he which could gorge out most, whether in preaching or writing, was accounted the most honest man: yea even those who are his own creatures and fed at his table, are not ashamed to set themselves against him, and rend his renown by all manner of injuries & slanders. As namely one called Roze, bishop of Senlis, the true portraiture of ingratitude, who among many other injuries uttered one worthily meriting a corporal punishment: yet this good prince was content only for his chastisement to banish him the court. Likewise an Advocate of Paris named Breton, was so impudent as to publish to the world a book against him replete with mischievous calumniations: notwithstanding it was even against his will that justice was executed upon him. But for these holy preachers did they approve this act of justice? nothing less, but rather reproved it, as a tyrannical act: so that one of them named Boucher, was so shameless as to preach, that the cord wherewith the Advocate Breton was strangled, was a thousand times more honourable, than the scarlet rob of the precedent which condemned him. I cannot here forget a certain Parisian, instructed and prompted by Madame de Mompensier, who feigning himself mad, entered the Lowre, uttering a thousand detestable words against the person of the king, yet for his knavery, he was but simply whipped in one of the o●●…ces of that place. Behold how this prince brooketh these injuries which were disgorged, and that impudently against him and his authority. Behold how careful he is to extinguish the fire which kindleth to borne him, and the estate of his realm: so that well may it be said of him, Malum est quidem habere imperatorem, sub quo nemini licet quicquam facere: sed multo peius est quando omnia licent omnibus.  
The League having now had a long time to practise upon France, over whom she had already gotten this advantage, that it easily gave her credit in whatsoever, advised with herself that it was now high time to let them, which had set her a work, see some better fruits of her travel. So that leaving off words & such like matters, she will now venture upon practice, wherein the dice chanced so well, that her enterprise fortuned even to her wish. And this was when she called the Duke of Guise, with his other partakers into the city of Paris against the will of the king: who (as well for the more assurance of his person, as to ferret out certain mischievous naughtipackes, lurking privily in the said city, which put in fear the good servants of the king, whom the League termed by the name of Politics) placed the guards of his body in certain places of the city: but the League caused him soon to know, that she had so thoroughly altered the will of the people, that they were far more affectioned to the said Guysard, then to him himself: which he then perceived when it was too late to remedy. Thus within less than three or four hours, the Parisians were so animated against the king's guard, by the instigation of the Duke of Guise, (as himself vaunted and braved in certain letters directed to the nobility of France) that they killed & hurt divers of them: yea the king himself was scarcely spared: for the Barricado's were planted within the gate of his Lowre, in such sort that he thought his stay would be far more perilous than his departure. This is that infortunate day, which the preachers have extolled as the most fortunate day which happened of a thousand years in France, and which they themselves in open sermon, baptized by the name of Barricado's: as in truth it hath been very advantageous for the master whom they serve.  
The king having received this indignity of his France, in the capital city of his realm, and in the sight of all the Princes in Christendom, who were there resident in the person of their Ambassadors or Agents, did he show himself to be moved or angry? not at all: but as if he had too much let loose the bridle of his malignant affections, fearing a worse event, he is content to put up the wrong, and to accuse himself. So seeking to reconcile himself with her, he made it known, that he would assemble the estates of his realm, by whose advise and counsel he would hereafter rule all his actions: and that he might show some confirmation of his will, he casheard in one morning about 33. of his Edicts.  
At the first bruit of this declaration, the League seemed somewhat male content, fearing that if France being admonished, and reproved by her king, should have any remorse of conscience for her fault, she would return to her former duty: yet considering that she had so practised her nearest counsellors, that they would speak nothing but by her mouth (like a good scholar that Fortune had put in her hands, to mount the more easily, whether she aspired) made show to wish nothing more than the convocation of the estates: mean while letting not slip an hour unemployed, either in resolliciting her old partakers, or purchasing new: but especially watching that none might be at this assembly, but those whom she knew to be of her party, whom she instructed from point to point, what they had to do.  
Whilst the Provinces, were assembling to prepare, their Articles, she suffered not the time to pass unprofitably, giving advise to her partarkers in those things which were necessary for their Articles, to some to besiege Boulogne, to others to beleaguer and batter Iamets, and to others to possess themselves of the Marqueship of Saluce: yet not forgetting to advertise her Master what she had happily negociated, as also the good estate of the affairs which she then managed, requiring him with all speed to embark, that puissant army which he had so long equipped to that end: whether to usurp England, or to visit France in form of an embassage, whereby to make proof of her good affection, and to encourage her revolt against her king: but either the one or the other might have been prejudicial to the French king, if the issue had fitted their expectation: but God by his grace miraculously overturned it, for this great Armada, which was termed invincible was broken, defeated, and dissipated, beyond all humane expectation, by the valiancy and magnanimity of the fleet, which the Queen of England had sent forth, to defend the coasts of her realm.  
Albeit the defeating of this Armada somewhat vexed the Spaniards, and not without cause: for that it clipped the wings of their other enterprises: notwithstanding the League was not any whit dismayed, but pursued more hotly her affairs, as willing to repair this ruin, by double diligence. And indeed she effected so far with the king, that he solemnly swore and protested to unite himself with her, and hereafter to be solely ordered by her counsel: so that the king was so blinded that he swore the destruction of himself, and the extirpation of his, by an Edict ensuing, named for this cause the Edict of reunion.  
The time being come, where the estates ought to assemble, their Deputies showed themselves at Bloys, where the assignation was given. Then was question made in this assembly, that the king, and his France, or rather the League, should give understanding of their affairs, to those which were called to determine thereof. For this part of France, had already retired their affection, from their natural king, to yield it to the king of Spain's, yea from their own children and heirs, to commit it to the said Spaniards in such manner, did they effect that the kings established, a foundamentall law of his kingdom, whereby no heretic, or favourer of heresy might ever come to the Crown. In this sort excluding the king of Navarre, whom the League held for an heretic, and the residue of the house of Bourbon, his cousins (except some few) from their natural, and legitimat, right, to the Crown of France. Thus the League not only depriving him, but also employing all their might, to root them out, by force of arms. Briefly, the French League, might not abide the sight of her own children, but hated them, with a most mortal hate. So that having given away her soul from her own king, like an unjust stepmother, she disherited her legitimat children, to invest bastards, or strangers, in their father's heritage.  
And which is more, she is not contented to have drawn away, this great corner stone from the foundations of the king's estate, (for in steed of adding another good foundation for this unjust law, she haled away one of the best, to the end to overthrow it) as may be seen, in that she bond his hands in the administration of his Realm, yea even to the taking away of those few which remained of his most faithful, ancient, and domestical servants: placing in their steed, those whom she thought most affectionate towards her. Thus was this good Prince deprived of his legitimat successors fallen in a manner from his dignity, diminished of his puissance, & abandoned of his most faithful, and loyal servants.  
What resteth now therefore for unfaithful France, but to cast herself between the arms of her good friend the Spaniard? the king so timorous, that he dare not hinder her, and albeit he durst, all his means are removed, having not one only heir, nor one, or at least few servants, that either would or could aid him to retain her.  
Furthermore, she hath been so shameless, as to enterprise upon the life of the king, for that being utterly impatient, and transported with a foolish affection, she sought all means to rid him away: so that treading under feet, the fear of God, and shame of men, she resolved upon his death, what ever came of it. She needed not greatly trouble herself, to seek one, to execute her mischievous will, a thousand are ready to enterprise it, even to the peril of their life. Albeit among so great a number, she discovered herself but only to one, whom she especially loved, & put most affiance in, who was a hundredth times more ready to obey, than she to command. Yea, such a one as most inflamed her to practise upon the enterprise. Behold then this good Prince, ordained by this French League, to a miserable death, and who must be the bloody parricide, but the Duke of Guise? only the execution thereof remained which had not been long delayed, had it not been for the providence & mercy of our God, who as he hath a care, especially over the person of kings (Rex venerandus curae est Deo, saith the Poet) manifested unto the king this bloody conspiracy, giving him means by the aid of some of his faithful servants, which yet remained, to prevent the traitorous, murderer & parricide, who had vowed to take away his life, or at least his liberty. And thus was he taken in the net, which he had spread for others: yea the hand of the Lord, stretched even upon the Cardinal his brother a man of the same stamp. But surely they had the reward, which they had rightly deserved, wherewith Hermeas was paid by the king Antiochus. As also accustomably it happeneth, that. Nimium potentes, & regibus suis, formidofi proceres, aut auditi miserum, & tragicum tamdem vitae exitum, ab ipsismet regibus, à quibus se formidari, & metui volverunt, consequuntur. If France, at the fall of this man, were marvelously moved, much more, were the League, and Philip. Having lost the best feather of their wing, and the strongest pillar, which supported their attempts. Now France seeing, that her flood, was discovered, knew neither what countenance to make nor what way to take: whether to entreat pardon of the king, whom she had so detestably offended, or following on, with her mischievous resolution, to persevere in the amity, which she had sworn to Philip. And I verily believe, that she had retained the former opinion, as most safe: had not the League, in using, more fine and artificial subtleties, than ever before, by the seducing of the unfaithful preachers, induced, persuaded, yea, and constrained her, to follow her last resolution, setting before her eyes, the enormity of all the faults, that she had committed against the authority of her king: who would be so irreconcilable, and inflamed with a desire of revenge, that he would never be induced to open the gate of his mercy. Thus desperately she resolveth, that seeing the dice was cast, she would run fortunes hazard: as also the ardent affection, that she had to change her natural Prince, to assay the government of a stranger: which she earnestly wisheth for, albeit to her common damage, and extreme ruin. The Gauls (saith Caesar in his Commentaries) love novelty, and desire to change their Signory: so that there needed no great labour, to incite them to a general rebellion; & yet the seditious preachers adding oil to fire, by their charming Sermons, and unjust declaration, make process upon the body, by which process, the College of Sorbone, acquitted, the people, from the oath of fidelity and obedience to their Prince: and without any scruple of conscience to take arms against him, to extirpate both him, & all those which shall sustain, or defend his quarrel. As if the College of Sorbone were above the king, to licence his people to violate the most firm, and holy laws of the Realm: now in such case, if often happeneth (as Caesar saith) that some are pricked forward with avarice, others with desire of revenge, or any other light folly, which ordinarily aecompanieth the common people. Moreover the great ones labour to set the vulgar sort in a tumult, wherein having committed some great mischief, they may be ashamed to repent, or crave mercy, others there are, who are drawn by a hope, to become great men: which (as saith Sallust) maketh men, but of mean condition to venture their life. Now before this French League will commit her fortune to the field, she would remove all such stumbling blocks, as might hinder her actions, or interrupt the course of her unbridled rage, in such sort that she captivated or banished the Cities, all those whom she never so little suspected to be servants to the kings. And then began France, so to ruffle, that the League, & her preachers had gathered a puissant army, whose leader must be the Duke du Maine, whom you cherish no less, than his late deceased brother: but O France, to what end dost thou march accompanied with such a terrible courage, as though thou wouldst affray, and subdue the whole world? is it to maintain the authority of thy king? or to conquer, new lands planting the borders of thy Monarchy, upon thy neighbours? or finally to recover those, which the ancestors of thy Spaniards, yea, and he himself hath unjustly rob thee of? no, no such matter. It is to abase, and beat down the greatness of my king, for that he hath taken away the life of my Minion, who (might I have had my will) should have taken away his. To this end, do I muster so many men in field, to sacrifice their blood, for the expiation of the offence perpetrated by the king upon the person of my favourite: As also my fields shall be overflown with the blood of the French, for an earnest penny of my Marriage dower, with Philip king of Spain, for that so is his pleasure, and he instantly requireth it as a token of my affection. Ah miserable France, well may it be cried out against thee.  
Gallia, quis furor? heu: quae tanta licentia ferri.  
Gentibus invisis Gallum praebere cruorem?  
You long for nothing so much as a bloody war, and you imagine thereby to triumph incontinently over your king, to yield yourself afterward to a foreign Prince: but brainsick as you are, you consider not the message, which the great warrior Metellus sent unto king Bocchus. The entrance into war (saith he) is easy: but the end difficult, neither are the beginning, and issue thereof in the power of one, and the same person: every one even the veriest coward in the world, may easily begin it, but the end thereof is only at the pleasure of the conqueror.  
The king perceiving France, to rush with such fury upon him, to avoid those inconveniences, whereinto he might fall, judged that his best remedy, was to abrogate and suppress that injust law, whereby at the instant request of the League, he had declared his legitimat, and indubitat heirs, incapable of succession to the Crown, and to recall them, near unto his person: together with all his old, & faithful servants both to sustain the assaults of his rebellious subjects, as also to abate the pride of their overrash insolency: who in the mean while, made a sudden assault upon him, in the suburbs of the City of Tours, from whence they were so valiantly repulsed, that they were constrained to make a shameful retreat.  
The king had no sooner made declaration of the things above said, but he might see himself assisted, with a great and courageous army composed of the Princes of the blood, of the most faithful, and magnagnimous Nobility, and of the better sort of his people, friends, and confederates, who never failed him at need. So that all trembled for fear, where his army passed, the towns which opened not their gates, were soon overthrown, nothing might resist his puissance, and briefly all stooped under his authority.  
Thus hoping to move France, to acknowledge her offences, and to demand pardon, which she might easily have obtained of his gracious clemency, he caused his army to approach, even to the gates of Paris: then were both France, and the League in extreme perplexity, without all hope of safety. France was sore vexed and tossed in spirit, many doubts, and difficulties, trouble her brain: the worm of her conscience, doth gnaw, and prick uncessantly, and so lively, that she feeleth as it were an unsupportable torment. Of the one side, she balanceth the enormity of her mischiefs, which plunge her into a mortal despair, and on the other side, the great mercy of the king, which far surpassed the heaps of her misdeeds, lifting her to an infallible hope of some great good: and I doubt not but that shortly she had returned to acknowledge her faults, and cordially to cleave to her king, who had handled her so graciously, if God would somuch have favoured her, as to take away the vail from before her eyes, that she might discern, truth, from falsehood, and evidently see the error whereinto the charming sorceries, & crafty illusions of this pernicious League, had caused her to stray: and so cast her headlong, into a bottomless pit, overflowing, with all calamities, and miseries: but it pleased not the divine goodness of God, to endue her with so favourable a grace, as one unworthy for her detestable vices to receive it: as in truth full well hath she deserved the pains that she hath suffered, yet (so obstinate is she in her wickedness) that she seeks no amendment.  
The malicious League seeing France, in this doubtful anguish, gathered her spirits together, to forge more crafty subtleties, than ever before, to cause France, to run to arms, after the death of the Duke of Guise, and so throughlie intrudeth her, into her former errors, that waxed more felonious than ever afore, she reconspireth the death of her king: and yet holdeth an other course then afore. And therefore bethinketh to enterprise it by treason, and by such a one as might do it with least suspicion: so that having thoroughly discoursed of her affairs, she concludeth, that Religion, should serve her as a covert, to commit this damnable parricide. Then was found out an execrable traitor, a jacobin Friar, who driven by a diabolical spirit, enterpriseth to the hazard of his life traitorously to murder his natural Prince. O detestable crime, and so horrible, that there is not a name so cruel or obhominable, as may sufficiently express it. Damnable Monks, do you read in the holy Scriptures that it is lawful for any man to murder, I say not only his king, but even the basest man on the earth? the law of God expressly forbiddeth to defile, the hands in humane blood. God commandeth (in the book of Deuteronomie) to take the homicide from the altar, and to slay him: but as for kings, he hath given them a particular privilege, as he saith by the mouth of the Psalmist. You shall not touch mine anointed, much more you shall not kill him. David also forbore to lay violent hands upon king Saul his enemy: albeit he had him at advantage. Did the Apostle teach you to commit this execrable fact, when he said. Obedite praepositis vestris etiam discolis? dare you then in this manner tread under feet the law of God, whereof in words you vaunt yourselves to be so zealously affectionate, shame befall upon you, mischievous, and traitorous hypocrites, who preach unto the people, the law of God yet yourselves will not follow it.  
Even the ethnic Pagans shall condemn you in the latter day: for albeit they were ignorant, yet they carried this respect unto the Princes of their land, as to term them (in reverence) the living portraitures of the supreme divinity. hearken what said one of the Poets. Rex est Imago animata Dei. But suppose he were so wicked as you, and the treacherous Leaguers would feign him to be, yet ought we to observe this good advertisement. Principes boni voto quidem expetendi, qualescunque; tamen tolerandi. But certain it is, that he was endued with all the perfections requisite to make a Prince worthy of the greatest praise, and the only imperfection that he had (which was but to great an imperfection in a Prince) was, that he showed himself somewhat to negligent for the maintenance of his greatness, and conservation of his estate.  
Now, then hath the French League, mischievously caused her king to be murdered: who feeling the extremity of death, to approach near upon him, declared in the presence of all his Princes, and Lords of his Realm, the king of Navarre as natural, and legitimate successor to the Crown (as in truth he is, and that most apparent) ending with these words the course of his life.  
Incontinently all the Princes, all the Lords, and all the Officers of the Crown following the declaration, and last will of the deceased king acknowledged the king of Navarre, and that according to all equity to be king of France, which all the whole army likewise acknowledged. Now France being left a widow of her king, & consequently mistress of herself, according to her own opinion & will (for it is a sure maxim, that the king never dieth in France) let us accord to her unreasonable appetite: what face setteth she upon it? doth she mourn, or is she sorrowfully discomforted? Doth she show any sign of sorrow in her widowhood, which ou●…●…o have been drowned in tears? No, but contrariwise, she rejoiceth so extremely, that she setteth publicly forth, a thousand, and a thousand signs of joy, as among many others her bonfires being so great, that even her furthest neighbours, were lightened with the flame thereof, whom notwithstanding, she thinketh scarcely advertised by this exterior sign, of her unmeasurable joy, and therefore will certify them by express letters: poor unfortunate France, which makest virtue of thy vice, and glory of thy infamy: poor enchanted France, which rejoicest when thou shouldest swim in tears: but thou wilt not care to do otherwise, while thou art bewitched by the enchanters of this diabolical League.  
But now let us see, what will become of this widow: let us see to what Prince France desireth to betroathe herself: for I think she will yield but only to one, otherwise she should do contrary to the nature of all other common wealths, who finally have submitted themselves unto one only Monarch, as approving the government of one to be better than of many: which the Satrap of Persia, also approved when as they constituted Darius for their soweraine Monarch. The Roman common wealth also, after it had been a long time furrowed, and tossed by the civil wars of particular persons. Maluit parere uni, quam pluribus. Furthermore in private families one commandeth over the rest: as the head over the inferior members: Yea even in numbers. The unity (as saith Plato is most esteemed). Philo judaeus in his book of the creation of a Prince, teacheth that the government by one only, was ordained by the commandment of God. Let us hearken unto the judgement of Homer: Non bonum est multorum principatus, unus Princeps esto.  
It appeareth then, that there is no sort of government more excellent or commendable, than the Monarchy which France is not ignorant of, and therefore will not be subject to many: but she will choose one to fit her own fancy, as though she were ignorant, that in a Monarchy, an election is perilous, & that nothing hath made her so redoubted and puissant, as an immediate succession of Princes barring the gate to election, which all Monarchies and well ordered kingdoms have curiously observed. But if this poor abused France, remaineth still opiniated in her election, yet the express commandment of God forbiddeth her to elect a foreign Prince, as it is written in the 17. of Deuteronomie in these words. From among thy brethren shalt thou make a king over thee: thou shalt not set a stranger over thee, which is not thy brother.  
Many examples might be produced to this purpose, of common wealths and kingdoms, which have been destroyed, only for trusting and subjecting themselves too much to strangers. For this cause Bartholomeus Coleon, reprehended the Venetians (who for his merits toward their common wealth, had erected his statue in gold) as having to inconsiderately adventured their common wealth into the hands of a stranger. The Corinth's had not fallen into a tyrannical government, if they had not submitted themselves under Timophanes a foreign leader. The Britons were chased their Realm by the English Saxons. The Spaniards by the Moors: and the Greeks by the Turks: only by craving succour of them in their wars: yet this French League passeth a degree further: she not only calleth in the Spaniard to aid to destroy her own children: but she will wholly submit herself unto him, and make him her sovereign Lord: which because she might not as yet openly, and absolutely do, for some considerations, she adviseth upon some fit expedient to cover her mischievous intention: and to the end to cloak her theft, which she secretly desireth to commit with the said Spaniard, she elected for her king by form of acquit Charles Cardinal of Bourbon, a man overworn with age, whom she had purchased to no other end, but to alienate the Crown, being well assured that he could not hinder, but rather profit much for the negotiation between the Spaniard and her, as before times he had always done, for this Prince, she had expressly reserved for this affair.  
But the late king having (as it seemed) foreséen this accident, to hinder him from disturbing the state any more, had committed him to a place, where being surely guarded, neither his rebels, nor the Spaniard, might aid him at their devotion, which marvelously disquieted them. For France of herself could do nothing to any effect without the authority of her bean king, as I may term him: whom she only used as a covert for her traitorous monopolies, and inventions against her legitimate and natural king: albeit he had not right, or title to the Crown, the king being living, whom to be delivered of, they would even remove heaven and earth, if it were in their power: but seeing all this was to no purpose, because the said Cardinal was surely guarded by the good, & faithful servants of the king, she recoursed unto force of arms, and setteth a great army in the field, which charged upon the king, being at that time, with a small company, at Deipe, and there about: promising unto themselves, either to slay him, to captivate his person, or at the least to cause him fly the Realm: but God so assisted him, by his own prowess, and the valour of his own soldiers, with the succours sent unto him by the Queen of England, that his enemies had but only the will to hurt him, & the grief, because they were altogether unable to hurt him: for the king defeated, and repulsed them valerously, and afterward searched them even at the gates of Paris, from whence they durst not appear, to answer him in battle which he presented unto them.  
The Spaniard for his part continually entertaineth France with fair words, & great hope of new forces, sufficient enough aswell to set the feigned king at liberty, as to defeat him, which truly and by good title is called king. And in deed five or six movethes after the charge upon Deipe, was the County Egmond, sent with a great troop. The Pope also sent his Legate, to comfort & encourage her. In such manner that a puissant army presented itself to the king, who suddenly set himself in battle array in the plain of Yury, where God once again so miraculously favoured him (although his enemy's forces were twice as great as his) that he gained the victory, having slain the greatest part of his enemies, among whom was the County Egmond, and put the rest to a shameful flight, which sore troubled France: and yet behold another work of God, who working for his anointed, about two months after took the Cardinal to himself.  
This unexpected death of the Cardinal rechargeth her, with divers and troublesome thoughts. She saw that the king had a puissant army, which so increased every day, that he had conquered a good part of his kingdom, and which more tormented her, she saw that he had blocked on all sides the City of Paris, which then suffered an extreme defect, both of victuals, and other commodities: which occasioned the people to open their eyes, which superfluity of ease, & the charms of the League, until then, had shut up and veiled: and surely they would willingly have yielded to the king, had not the damnable League by her subtleties, & the force of her partakers, retained them in their obstinacy, whether they would, or no. Then began France to perceive the fraud of the Spaniard, and the illusions of the League, acknowledging that being foolishly persuaded, she had committed unpardonable faults against her king, and that persevering in her folly, she had rashly taken arms against him, whom she ought to have cherished more than any Prince in the world, who notwithstanding is so merciful, that she might have promised herself, that he would forget all that was passed. So that she fully determined to send to his Majesty to entreat of peace, but that she was so watched by the League, and entangled in her laberinthes that she might do nothing, without her knowledge or consent, who counseleth her, to propose unto the king, among other Articles these two following.  
1. That he should change his Religion, into the Romish Catholic Religion, a thing that she knew well that the king, would never accord unto, especially at that time.  
2. That he should pardon all those, which are coulpable of the death of the late king, a thing which he neither might, nor aught to do.  
And as touching the changing of his Religion, albeit he holdeth it for the most true, and holy, notwithstanding he hath always protested, that he would submit himself to the decrees of a holy, & free Council, general or national, assembled to determine of the two Religions which are professed in his kingdom: to the end to embrace that, which shallbe judged most Christian, & to reject the other. But that he is an heretic he denieth, for that no Council, hath condemned the Religion, which he professeth to be heresy. But put case his Religion were heretical, yet it maketh not either him, or any other person incapable to possess those goods, which naturally and lawfully belong unto him, and to force his conscience in regard of Religion, were a thing uneasy to do. If his Religion be not good they need not fear, for that he cannot long uphold or maintain it in his Realm, seeing jesus Christ hath said, Every plant, which my heavenly father hath not planted, shallbe plucked up by the root. They may see, a fair plea upon this question, in the 5. of the Acts, where a Doctor of the law, named Gamaliell, speaking of the Religion, and doctrine of the Apostles, said unto the high Priest, and to the judges. If this counsel, or work be of men, it will come to nought: but if it be of God, ye cannot destroy it, lest ye be found even fighters against God. And do not you, manifestly resist the word of God, to sustain a Religion by the point of the sword, and enforce men to follow it? It is evident God never planted his, by the sword of Princes. To hope also that the French king, will leave his Religion, to the end to enjoy peaceably his kingdom is a vain hope, and I believe he will never do it, if the Monarchy of the whole world were offered unto him, for that he esteemeth it, a great breach both to his conscience and honour, if it be not (as I have said) first condemned by a Council.  
The League knowing then, that France could not treat a peace with the king, upon the conditons before said, and that by her obstinacy she reaped such great discommodities, that at the length would bring her to reason: she soliciteth her more, & more to persist in her mischievous opinion, and the more the people cry out with famine, so much the more do the preachers entertain them in their rebellion, playing the Orators unto them, like as anciently Critognatus, a Captain of the Gauls, did unto the inhabitants of Lauxois, being besieged by the Romans: who propsed unto them, that it were far more honourable, to eat one an other, then to yield themselves to the mercy of the Romans'. But Critognatus was far different from these preachers more inhuman, than the very Cannibals, for that he did it for fear of coming into bondage: and these to the end to yield France, and her poor people, under the yoke of a miserable tyranny: he showed himself truly zealous of his country, and the name of the Gauls, and these are thereunto mortal enemies: for they have nothing but the French names, whereas in heart they are Spaniards, above four and twenty carrects.  
Now to the end to comfort the people in their adversity, they feed them with a hope of succour, which shall remove that long, and insupportable siege. And ind indeed the Spaniard, after he had set all his wits a-work, caused the Prince of Parma to march into France, against the king, who together with his nobilty, and other men of war, presented him battle four or five times, with a magnanimous courage, so that the Spaniard for all his bravadoes, was so astonished at the sight of this valorous army, that he never dared to come to blows, contenting himself, to lurk about Paris, to consume the rest of that small portion of victuals, which remained in the country and towns thereabout. The king seeing that the Spaniard had taken this resolution, licenced some of his nobility to departed, and separated himself a few leagues from Paris, making daily courageous assaults upon the enemy, who for all his great bravadoes, and proud rodomontades, took only two small Hamlets, not without the loss of a great number of his soldiers, which were soon taken again, and that before his face: and having done these two memorable exploits, he thought it best to truss up his baggage, and return to his lodging, for fear of greater loss, to the utter abasing of his reputation: which he did not so secretly, but that the king made him fasten his spurs, and leave part of his glorious feathers behind him. For he pursued him without cealing, now in the forefront, now on his wings, and now at his tail, even unto the borders of Flaunders. Thus in brief behold, all the succours and advancement, that France received of her great friend Philip king of Spain, by the coming of the Prince of Parma. Behold the people left in greater calamity, than ever before, and their affairs still growing from evil to worse: the king surprising to day one town and to morrow another.  
Poor abused France, dismaske and pull away the vail, which the League hath put before your eyes, turn away your ear, from her crafty illusions: break the bonds wherewith she hath captivated you, and purge your brain with some good antidote, against her charms: and then, not till then, shall you perceive, in what darkness, in what error, in what captivity you have been detained, whilst this accursed League hath governed you: than yourself shall be judge, how much you have lost of your beauty, of your authority, of your greatness, of your fidelity, of your liberty, of your wisdom, and of your forces: which before, and that from the beginning were redoubted, not only to your neighbours, but even to the most renowned nations, so that if you would look back upon yourself, you should see, that your visage is so changed that you could not know it, nay you would be afraid to behold it. Consider all your members, and Organs, apart by themselves, and you shall find all your members defeated, beaten down, feeble, and weak, and your organs all perverted and gone astray in their offices. Your neighbours which were wont of late, to fear, and redoubt you, do now hiss at you, pointing with their finger, and mocking at your desperate rage, and miserable folly, which hath made you more cruel than Medea, against your own innocent children, whom you most cruelly pursue, and without all humanity massacre, as if they were your most mortal enemies, that had conspired your death. Take patience awhile, to hearken unto one of your most affectionate neighbours, who will set down nothing which shallbe unreasonable, but rather wholly to your advantage and profit.  
Imitate that virtuous Prince Antigonus, who freely hearkened unto a plain country man (whom he met with by chance) reprehending the vices, wherewith he was attached: and albeit he felt himself pricked to the quick, yet he took all in so good part, that it returned greatly to his profit: correcting afterwards, that which the good man had noted to be vicious in him, and being returned to his court, he said unto his minions, that he had learned that of a peasant, which he never knew before, namely, the truth, which his flatterers had always kept hidden, and disguised. In like manner (miserable France) depart but a little from this fraudulous League, and her traitorous preachers, to learn, not of one of your domestical flatterers, and deluders, but of a simple stranger, desirous for your own good & safety, to cause you to know the sincere verity, which this long time you have not heard of, for that you would never give ear to any discourses, but those of your deceivers, depart therefore but a while out of your court, and I will cause you sincerely to understand, what you have hereafter to do.  
Demosthenes' persuading the Athenians to resist Philip of Macedon, exhorted them not only to repulse the usurper, but consequently to chase out of their city certain Orators, whom by rewards he had drawn unto his faction. In like manner I advise you, that to avoid the tyranny of Philip of Spain, it is needful to betake you to your weapons, and more than high time, to exile this pernicious League, and her corrupted preachers if they will not amend, contenting themselves to preach the gospel, as jesus Christ hath enjoined his Apostles, whose imitators and successors they feign themselves to be. Go (saith Christ) throughout the whole world, preaching the gospel unto every creature: he commandeth them, not to meddle with the estates of Princes, to seduce their people, causing them to revolt against them, nor to cause their doctrine, to be observed by arms, committing cruel and bloody butcheries, upon all persons without any exception, as these our venerable masters have done for these thirty years, and do yet solicit others to do: and herein must I needs commend the policy of all other kingdoms, which forbidden upon grievous penalties, that divines should in their sermons dispute upon matters of state. But how dare I take in hand to beat down so puissant a Prince, redoubted to all Europe, who hath so great commandment over me, being subjecteth under his puissance: your natural and legitimate king, of whom it may be well said, 
Rex quo iustior alter  
Nec pietate fuit, nec bello, maior, & armis.  He only it is that may vaunt, as sometime that great chieftain Abarius vaunted: Sweat, dust, and such like things are more delectable unto us then the most delicate fare. And briefly this is he, who from his cradle hath followed the counsel, that Plinius secundus giveth to a magnanimous Prince, which desireth to be skilful in military affairs. Princeps (saith he) ut sit Militaris debet prius multum, & dium bello periclitatus esse: sic enim disciplina militaris scientissimus erit. This is he which is more than sufficient to break all the attempts and enterprises of the Spaniard: yea even to pursue him into his own country if need were, which he knowing full well, hath for this long time sowed dissension between you, and hath enterprised: to make him odious unto you, fearing that if you should both march upon one foot, he should be constrained to take heed to himself, without enterprising upon his neighbours: so that he should fall from this high attempt to become Monarch of the world. It is mere simplicity in you to redoubt the said Philip, seeing his greatness is grown only by the negligence, floath, and malice of those, over whom he hath tyrannically usurped, as namely over us Portugese's. In like manner would he wax great by your civil dissensions, which are unto him as a bridge to pass over unto your sovereignty. For making you believe that he will (as a friend) secure you against him, whom falsely you entitle your enemy, he will use the same subtlety that this other Philip of Macidone used, who under colour of assisting divers people of Grecia against their neighbours (saying that it was the duty of a friend, & confederate, to lend succours to others in their urgent affairs) easily possessed himself of their common wealths.  
And think you, I pray you, that Philip of Spain, will tell you by his hired preachers (for you will not hearken to any other) that he will first reduce you under his government, & afterward handle you rigorously? for my part, I think him more wise, neither doubt I that you think otherwise: but rather to the end to entrap you, he promiseth you more good, than you dare hope or wish for of your legitimate king. But if you have any discretion, be it never so little, you will make no receipt of such excessive promises, for that they are too much suspect, and too full of distrust, which in this case ought to find some place in you. Men have invented divers things convenient for the defence and conservation of their cities, as walls, ditches, trenches, bulwarks, bastilles, engines, artillery, and such like, which have not been done without great charges by ingenious mechanickes and workmen. But sage discretion findeth naturally in itself, an inexpugnable rampire, especially in a free people, against the assaults and invasion of a tyrannous usurper: and what rampire is this? a distrustful foreseeing, wherewith if you be thoroughly fortified, no encumbrance shall annoy you, but you shall conserve your dear liberty, whereof the Spaniard is a sworn enemy, and usurper.  
Good God: how grievous would it be unto you, if after all this, you make the Spaniard possessor of you and yours, and that by your own means: murdering one king, rejecting another, who is your legitimate king, disaduowing your own children, contemning your nobility, disdaining your most faithful people, over whom you have made innumerable extortions. And briefly after having suffered all the mischiefs in the world, on your members affeebled with travel. Instead of finding in this Spaniard all recreation, pleasure, sweetness, courtesy, rest, and tranquillity, he should cause you to enter from a fever to a frenzy. For to deliver you from war, which you most desire, what face soever you set upon it, for that it is grievous and wearisome unto you, he cannot do it though he would, for that he hath too strong parties, not to speak of strangers, which thing if it may go by usurpation, have as good right in your kingdom as he. You have good example of my saying at your door, even Flaunders his patrimony, which is now a thousand times less in peace, than it was in the beginning of their troubles. I assure myself that the least wars that you have upon you, as well of his part, as by his occasion, shall be more tedious unto you, than all those, which for this thirty years you have supported, yea comprising the last (albeit in good earnest they felt the extraordinary rigour of the Spaniard,) which notwithstanding in comparison of these future, have been but as child's play: albeit it was long of those which first began them, to the great grief of the most faithful, who were forced to defend themselves against the arrogancy of the Guysards, who would tread them under their feet. And albeit herein they had committed some fault, which cannot be said, for that they did it for their defence, yet are they nevertheless in some sort excusable, for that they are household children. For like as he which is borne in a rich and puissant family, if he happen to do any thing unfitting, and contrary to his duty, is not to be blamed, or reprehended so sharply as a stranger: but if some servant or stranger hath lost, or wasted, that whereunto he hath not any right, how much more foully should he fault? and how much more grievously were he to be reprehended? Now it goeth far otherwise with the Spaniard, for not only he is not French, but also he hath nothing in him worthy to be simbolized in the least degree, to the good and laudable nature, I say not of the Princes, but of the meanest gentlemen of France.  
All this notwithstanding is nothing in regard of the dolorous heart-breaking, which incessantly shall torment you, having in steed of the master, one of his servants to rule and govern you, by the name of a Viceroy. Yea albeit he should give you some French Lord (but make account he will take heed to that) he will not handle you better than us Portugals, or the Neapolitans, and Milannois, and all those which are under his subjection.  
If the Grecians found it strange to have Philip of Macedon absent from their Pythian games, whereat if he assisted not himself, he caused some of his court, to be precedent: will the proud disdain of your Philip, be more tolerable unto you, when he will not deign, I say not to honour you certain months every year with his presence, but not to visit you at all? and yet surely the administration of such a kingdom, is of far more worth, and importance, than the feast of I know not what games, and pastimes. And yet moreover, you have been always accustomed to talk familiarly with your king, and to remonstrate unto him, whether in private or public all your affairs: you always saw your king precedent in the congregation of your estates. You I say are they, especially above all other nations, who desire nothing more, then to content your eyes, with the presence of your Prince.  
But herein in my opinion he shall bear himself marvelous discreetly, for that he ought not to entertain himself with you, but in a tedious manner, by reason of the just distrust he may have of your fidelity. For seeing you have falsified your faith to your legitimate Prince: seeing you have killed your rightful king, seeing you have showed yourself a stepmother to your own children, to adopt strangers, good occasion may he have to hold your loyalty always in suspect: which you may as easily violate towards him, as you have done towards your natural and legitimate Prince. And be you sure, that he will soon make you taste of the fruits of his distrust, by taking away all those which may any ways be obstacles to his enterprises. Make account, that he is not ignorant, that Tyrannidis inducendae, ac stabiliendae prima initia sunt frequens accusatio, & in quovis crimine adiuncta delaesa maiestate Principis. Itemque delatorum authoritas. Which he thoroughly practised in Flanders, causing the Counties Egmond and Horn to be beheaded: besides diverse other, as also the Prince of Orange, whom he caused traitorously to be murdered. And as for us Portugese's, hath he spared us? I will make you partakers of some examples of his clemency towards our Nobility. The County de Vimiose Constable of Portugal being slain in fight for the liberty of his country. The Spaniard confiscated all his goods, and sent his mother with her seven daughters, prisoners into Castille. Diego de Meneses sometime Viceroy of the East Indies, and governor of the town of Cascais, was publicly beheaded, and one of the Captains of the said to town, named Henry Perera, was ignominiously hanged, notwithstanding his nobility. Emanuel Serradas was executed by the sword in the isle of Tercera. And the County de Torres vedras governor of the said I'll, was in like manner beheaded. The same end had Peter Alpoen, after that Philip understood that our king Don Anthonio was retired toward France. Sfortia Vrsino a valorous Captain, was likewise empoisoned. These few, which I have collected from a great number, may suffice, because I would not be tedious unto you. And therefore by the example of the miseries of our Realm, take heed in good time, lest that happen upon yours (if the Spaniard become master) which Tacitus writeth, Sub tyrannis & iniustè imperium occupantibus, omnia sunt bellis civilibus, proditionibus, mutuis coedibus, exilijs plena, etc. I take you to be so benign a mother, that you would feel an extreme grief, to see your Nobility, the honour and stay of your authority to be massacred or banished. And albeit it had provoked you by a thousand outrages, as the League hath undertaken falsely to persuade you: yet would you impatiently support this horrible and cruel tyranny.  
Now than you see into what infortunate calamities, this pernicious League would precipitate you into. You see, how she seeketh nothing but to destroy you, to enrich Philip with your damage. And you see that she enforceth herself to charge your neck with such a weighty tyranny, that you shall continually remain courbed under the burden thereof, without being able to redress yourself. But I hope that by this time you have recoiled far back from her, yea even wholly chased her from your ears, and that returning to yourself, you will be governed by reason: by whose good counsel you shall return unto your king, and be appeased with your Nobility, who heartily desire to review you, more excellent and magnifical then ever before: as full easily you may be, being assisted and maintained by the most virtuous and magnanimous king, that ever swayed your crown. Oh how comely would it be, to see you revested with this fair French rob, embroidered with the fleurs-de-lys. Oh how neat it would be, over this Spanish motley rob, which for a time you have worn, which hath made you so ugly and deformed, that you are become the fable of all your neighbours, who take you for some foolish sot, not knowing you being so foolishly disguised: but take but once again your own habit, and they will both honour and reverence you. These fair flower deluces will put them in mind of your integrity, and unmovable constancy towards your king, which if you keep inviolably, then shall you triumph over the arrogancy of the Spaniard, if he should offer hereafter to disquiet or disturb your felicity.  
But now I come to you people of France, divided principally into two parties, whereof the first part, which is the lesser, hath continually remained entire and faithful to their Prince, what fair language, what subtleties, what menaces, what prisons, what tortures, what cruelties, and what loss of goods soever, that the League and her partakers had plotted or invented, to lead them to their devotion. The other part being far greater, hath not only run at the first fury of the League, to revolt against their king, but also hath taken in hand to intraine & corrupt the sound party: and yet remaineth plunged in their obstinacy. To these two parties agreeth well the difference, that Demosthenes put between those of Athens and Thebes. The Athenians as true citizens, and men zealous of the common wealth, would favour Philip of Macedon no further, than honesty and virtue would permit them: but the Thebans contrariwise served him for an ardent covetousness of gain and particular profit, which they hoped to draw thereby, not apprehending any farther, like men of base understanding, the rigour of a tedious servitude. Now as for you sage Athenians, you faithful Frenchmen, me thinketh you need no advertisement, to entertain you in your duty, seeing the League, by so many and so many crosses, troubles, & persecutions, hath not been able to divert you: I esteem you so constant, that nothing shallbe able hereafter to distract you: you are men rather worthy of immortal praise, which shall never fail you, than any admonition, and therefore I should be but too tedious to exhort you to conserve that, which I know you do most affect, namely your liberty & fidelity. And albeit Demosthenes played the orator often to his Athenians, yet were if needless unto you, because you are more virtuous than the Athenians. But it is to you, that it is more than needful, not to speak, but to cry out, O you senseless Thebans, you rebellious Frenchmen, you traitorous brokers of your goods, your friends, your parents, your wives, your children, yourselves, & your country, which ought to be more dear unto you, then mischievously to deliver over to a cruel tyranny. But you are run further than the Thebans of Graecia, for they being gross heads, and without any foresight, covetous, and such as only respected their profit, enriched themselves by the harms of their fellow citizens: but you fail not for want of understanding or of ignorance, but rather through rage, felony, and fore determined malice: like certain Orators among the Orithains, or like the Olympians among the Athenians: so you being once infected by this pernicious League, have stirred up by your flattering orations and lying pamphlets, the most simple to rebellion, and therein detain them, as it were by force and violence. For these poor idiots are so drunken by your mellified and seducing sermons, that they suffer themselves to be led by the snout like bears and elephants.  
What say you now you unfaithful Frenchmen, abused by the Sorbonical seducers? because you have once shaken off the yoke of obedience to your king, will you never more receive it? Well may you be likened to a savage and outrageous beast, seeing you have taken such unbridled liberty: or if you submit yourselves to obedience, you will choose a head to your own fancy. And in deed better it is to obey in what sort soever it be, them evilly to command, and continue so long time confusedly, in a chaos of Anarchy, which is most perilous, Nihil anarchia periculosius, saith Plato, and herein you follow the advice of Tacitus, Praestat sub malo Principe esse, quam sub nullo. I perceive then, you would acknowledge a superior, but not he whom God and nature hath given you, being induced to this resolution by the prattle of your Preachers. And why? forsooth he is not of the Catholic religion, which it may be he will take away from us, and constrain us by violence to embrace his religion, as the Queen of England hath done in her Realm: but as for the Spaniard, he is a Catholic, whom we love better than our natural king, aswell for that respect, as for the promise he hath made to govern us with all clemency, for that he desireth not to be our king, but only to maintain us in the Catholic religion. Briefly, nothing leadeth us hereinto, but the conservation of this religion, he being at this time the eldest son of the Romish Church.  
I have before satisfied you concerning the first part of your objection, when I declared, that your king will entertain you in liberty of conscience, until a Council have determined of both religions, and assure yourselves for certain, that herein he will inviolably observe his faith and promise.  
Touching the second objection, that the example of the Queen of England causeth you to mistrust, that your king notwithstanding his promise, will force you to observe the religion reform. I perceive that you have been misinformed of the state of England touching this point: for the Queen never made promise unto her Catholic subjects to continue their religion: but contrariwise the Estates of her Realm caused her at her coronation to swear to maintain the religion reform: yet for all this, it was never yet found, that she constrained the conscience of one only Catholic, to renounce his religion to live in the reformed: true it is, that according to her oath, she hath forbidden the Mass to be publicly said. As for the Catholics which have been executed, they have been condemned with all the solemnities requisite to the proceeding of rightful justice, as being attainted, and convinced by their own confessions of high treason against her Majesty: either for rising in arms against their Sovereign, or for being so detestable, as to dare make attempt upon her sacred life. How much had it availed your late king, if by this laudable example he had chastised the perturbers of his state, who now finally have digged his grave? Herein this sage and virtuous Princess, hath carried herself so discreetly & modestly, that she is cherished and reverenced by all the Princes of the earth. And surely her actions are so virtuous and laudable, that all men believe undoubtedly that the spirit of God guideth her always, as it were by the hand. Yea I am persuaded, that the greatest Prince in the world, would esteem himself happy, if he might second or imitate her in the administration of her estate. Yet notwithstanding that impudent liar and slanderous deceiver, who at the entrance of the League, published forth a book, entitled the English Catholic to the French, was plunged into such impudency, as falsely to allege acts so clean contrary to the proceedings of this famous Queen, as I durst swear she never once imagined, only to the end to cause you to fear, & redoubt the government of your legitimate king, a prince as virtuous as any this day living under the sun.  
And lest any man think, that any particular affection hath incited me to take her cause in hand, I protest, that nothing but the plain and sincere truth (which hath caused her innocency to be known, against these calomnious falsehoods, & maketh her praiseworthy in all her works) hath incited me to sustain the equity of her cause: and albeit that God and nature do otherwise sufficiently bind me, yet should I be too ingrateful, if I should forget the royal magnificence, and more than sisterlike amity, which her benign clemency hath demonstrated, and daily doth demonstrate to our king secluded from his kingdom: as also the gracious benefits which we his poor exiled countrymen have received, and yet do receive of her unspeakable liberality.  
The last part of your objection is, that nothing occasioneth the Spaniard to be so desirous to command over you, but only to conserve among you the Catholic religion: ah poor senseless souls: for god's sake do but give ear, to what I shall briefly recount touching his actions in this point: & then shall you plainly perceive, whether the zeal that he beareth towards your religion soliciteth him to be so charitable unto you. Hath this great Catholic king spent the treasures, or hazarded the life of his subjects, only for the advancement of the Christian faith against unchristian Princes? nothing less. To verify this to be true, Pope Gregore 13. proposing himself to the aid of certain Christian Princes, to make an enterprise upon the Persian, for the augmentation of the Church, requested this Spaniard to give them some succours: which he not only flatly denied, but which is more, would not lend any of his galleys, albeit the holy see offered to freight them at her own charges. Moreover how dealt he with our late king Don Sebastian, whose death all Christendom hath sufficient cause to bewail: who (desiring to assist Mulei Mahumet king of Fez and Morocco, against Mulei Maluco his brother, who had expulsed him his Realm, a work surely worthy of so Christian a Prince, and advantageous to the whole Church, for the good conditions he had compounded with the stranger) required the Spaniard his uncle to secure him in this expedition, who accorded that he should have fifty galleys equipped, & iiij. thousand fight men. Which Mulei Maluco perceiving, incontinently offered him certain towns on the sea side to desist from his promise, which he speedily accepted, not shaming to break his othsworne to his nephew, to contract alliance with a barbarous infidel: so much did avarice reign over him, as to cause him violate the laws of God & men: but he was paid with the same money that he lent, for that sending his Ambassador named Vanegas, to take possession of the town of Rarache and others promised unto him: the Barbarians mocking at his treachery, constrained the Ambassador by force of the Canon, to retire sooner than he was willing. But it may be you will say, he bore himself politicly in these two actions, to conserve and maintain his estate: as if human policy were to be preferred before the law and honour of God. I, but for all this he hath showed himself a very zealous Catholic, & hath carried a particular respect toward those which make strict profession of this religion. Well, let us see if that be true. After he had invaded our Realm, and that among infinite other Ladies, he had banished into Castille the wife of the Agent of our king Don Anthonio, his children and mother in law, he drew three of his sisters, chaste, and holy religious, out of the monastery of S. Clare at Lisbon, and confined them likewise into Castille. But he hath dealt marvelous clemently with them in saving their lives, albeit servile and miserable. Yea but sith the women are thus dealt with, the men must be handled more rigorously, & surely herein he hath thoroughly acquitted himself, witness a good religious, named Friar john, of the order of the jacobins, who for embracing the liberty of his country, was hanged in the isle of Madera: another Friar, Hector Pintus of the order of S. Hierome, was committed to the hands of certain soldiers in Castille, where he was afterward empoisoned. Friar james de Noronba a jacobin brother to the Count de Mire, was so cruelly beaten, and hurt by the soldiers, that he ended his life. A Doctor named Friar Augustine, of the order of S. Augustine, and Friar Emanuel Margues a grey Friar, were chained together with rovers and thieves in a galley, which was afterward taken by the Turks, under whose cruelty, I leave it to your judgement to imagine what torments these poor religious have suffered. Friar Gregory of the order of S. Augustine, was also captivated in the galleys. Friar Lewes Soarez of the order of the Trinity, having been tortured with a thousand torments in prison, was afterward exiled. Friar Anthony Seneuse was constrained to lurk secretly in the forests, to avoid the bloody rage of this Philip king of Spain. And briefly a million of others, who have been, and are daily, either drowned, strangled, empoisoned, prisoners or fugitive.  
You might see a sufficient number of them fly for refuge into France, who yield more than sufficient testimony of his cruel barbarism. But for what occasion or to what end were all these cruelties committed? These good men were faithful Portugals, contrary to your Preachers, & therefore he feared, lest they should move the people to recover their liberty. I speak not of an infinite number of the heads of our Nobility, wherewith the gates of our towns are stuffed, and repaired from day to day. Yea but he hath thoroughly gratified all those which were favouring in the usurpation of our Realm: surely according to their merits, and the bounty of the said Spaniard, a people who commonly love treason but hate the traitors, when their own turns are served: he hath made them know when they have demanded recompense for their service, that albeit they have sold & betrayed their country, yet he is nothing in their debt, and that a man were ill advised to buy that which is his own. Behold the fair reward of their treachery, and the payment of their sale. Christian Var de Vegua governor of the Castle of S. john, can bear witness hereof, who having delivered that place to the Spaniard, for a good annual pension during his life, in steed of enjoying this promise, he was incontinently banished for ten years into Africa to make war against the Moors. And if you desire to know further hereof, behold the request which these traitors presented unto the said Spanish king, beseeching him to keep his promise: and the answer which he gave them, you shall find it in the end of the justification of our king Don Anthonio, touching the war which he made upon this Philip: so that if he hath left any (having chased away the rest) in their charges, and governments, which are not of any great importance, he holdeth them so short, & setteth such near espials upon them, that they are as it were in a mere captivity.  
Consider now if you run not the same race: as for the faithful Frenchmen, whether secular or regular, albeit thoroughly Catholics, it is already concluded (as it were of necessity) that they shall pass through the Spanish butchery. And as for you faithless traitors, make you no better account, for that your natural French humanity (which difficultly can be utterly extinguished) cannot long suffer the proud & intolerable Spanish arrogancy: which the Spaniard full well knowing, at the least suspicion he may take of your first and natural affection (as by good right he may always hold your fidelity in suspect) will not spare you any more than the rest. The reformed religion, as it serveth him now for a pretext to impair himself of your kingdom, although you called him not: so shall it also serve him as another pretext, to cover his tyranny with a mantle of justice, whilst he tormenteth & massacreth those, whom he shall perceive, may give him the least trouble or impeachment, making them believe, that they are of the religion reform. For my part I believe that you are not so void of judgement, even the most gross among you, that you do not foresee what I have rehearsed, whereupon I esteem you so much the more sottish, mischievous, & disloyal toward yourselves, seeing you precipitate yourselves, as it were with blinded eyes, from a fast footing to so dangerous a peril, as is imminent over you.  
Are these the effects of a king terming himself so great a Catholic? Is this the reverence he beareth to the holy Apostolic see? Is this to show himself the sole protector and pillar of the Christian church as he impudently vaunteth in his titles? Is this to be the true Pastor of the people, as Homer writeth of the prince Agamemnon? Is this to be like the good householder? Is this to vanquish his will, to handle those so rigorously, whom he hath conquered by force of arms? Surely it is far worse than that pagan Cyrus, who courteously entreated the Chaldeans, whom he had vanquished. It were good he went to the school of that excellent historiographer Xenophon, who teacheth this good lesson to all usurpers, Novi populi bello parti, sunt beneficio afficiendi: quo lubentius nobis parere velint. Needless it were to set before your eyes, the damages and miseries, which you have supported in these wars for the Spaniards sake: you doubt not that the rich are become poor, that the needy have spoiled other of their goods, to revest and possess themselves thereof. The poet Theognides yieldeth the principal reason thereof, when speaking of the like sedition unto yours, he saith, Baiuli imperant, mali super bonos.  
I need not to rehearse the taking of towns, by the army of your king of towns (I say) wherinto the soldier was constrained to enter by assault, whereas you the inhabitants have not only lost the most part of your goods, but also your own honour and the honour of your ancestors, who had some interest therein. And verily unworthy you are to receive any milder chastisement, albeit all be against the intention, will, and express commandment of the king, seeing you are so hardened in your rebellion, that you make all the resistance that possible may be, until the soldier (having first escaped a thousand & a thousand deaths, which you level upon his head) surmount you by violence of arms. And yet which is more to be deplored, few towns become sage by the misfortune of others: wherein may be noted the just vengeance of God, which permitteth not long undelayed the punishment due to your mischievous offences: yet do I not think, that you would continue so obstinate, were it not for those treacherous preachers, and others, who have Hispaniolized hearts, like Philistides, Menippus, & certain other orators, and partakers of Philip of Macedon among the Orithains: for careless are they of all your miseries, so they may satisfy the desires & commandments of the Spanish king their Master, who desireth nothing so much, as the final destruction of France: which he little esteemeth, so he may possess it, and would see it wholly ruinated, so he might lose nothing of his own: & the more it shallbe disfurnished of power, and disabled with men, the more easily may he Hispaniolize over it: knowing than that he cannot subvert it, being united and conjoined, he whetteth his wits to the end to divide it. Thus could not France be subverted but by itself, like the common wealth of the Romans, of whom it is said, Mole sua ruit. Sallust hath left written, that the ancient Romans were accustomed to say, that they felt themselves strongly inflamed with virtue, when they beheld the monuments of their ancestors. In imitation of these noble Romans, behold ye rebellious Frenchmen, the images of your ancestors, their virtues, & laudable actions, portrayed and graven in the quires of your histories, and you shall see, that they have always combated to maintain the liberty of France, saving in the reign of Charles the sixth, by reason of the dissension between the Dukes of Orleans & Burgundy: at what time they made a great breach in their ancient constancy, dividing themselves, and permitting the king of England to take deep rooting in the kingdom of France: which notwithstanding Charles the 7. son of the forenamed, wholly rooted out: and all the French (like men awaked out of a profound sleep, which had a long time securely detained them) remembered themselves to be true and natural Frenchmen, which have never, at least very seldom suffered themselves to be governed by foreign Princes. If you be curious to search more anciently, the immovable constancy of the French or Gauls, it is all one, you shall see it lively depainted for more than 1650. years ago, in Caesar's commentaries, who without great travel & difficulty, could never subject them to the Roman Empire: which maketh me promise unto myself, that you seeing these things, will blush for shame, so entirely to degenerate from their brave courage and constancy, being rather in every thing contrary unto them. They conspired, they revolted, they took arms, they warred without fearing any kind of death. And why? To conserve their liberty, their freedom, & especially not to receive the garrisons of the Roman Empire, redoubted, and commanding over the whole world: of whom the greatest kings held themselves happy to be called the friends and confederates. Briefly, nothing was more odious unto them then foreign garrisons: as Ambrorix & the Captains of Tournay demonstrated to Titurius and Cicero the Lieutenants of Caesar. But contrariwise, you league yourselves, you rebel, you run to arms, you enter into war, and expose your life to a thousand dangers. Against whom? Even against your natural and legitimate king, whole virtue is a thousand times more commended of strangers then of his own subjects. To what end? To murder him, as you have done his predecessor, or to chase him out of his realm, that you might servilely subject yourselves. To whom? To Philip, a Spaniard, odious for his ambition & tyranny to the whole world: & after to admit his garrisons, will you nill you, into your towns, proud garrisons, arrogant garrisons insolent garrisons, insupportable garrisons: and briefly, garrisons more than barbarous: who will use you, your wives your children & goods after their own appetite, you not daring to show the least semblance to take it in evil part. I speak not idly, neither do I recount fables or lies: you shall not be handled more courteously than your neighbours: the garrisons which shall bridle, & triumph over you, shall not be compounded of less tyrannous and cruel soldiers, than those whice press us so hardly, that scantly we can take our breath: nay happy shall you be if it be not worse. Your french soldiers, which have conversed any time in the army of the Prince of Parma will witness, if so be they will tell truly, that I am not a liar. Yet if you desire to have more sufficient testimony of my speech, inform yourselves of the towns of Britain, where the Spaniards have long enough sojourned: yea which is a country, which the said Spaniard would make you believe were appertaining to him: albeit he hath no more right than to the other provinces of France, for that king Francis the first, & since that king Henry his son, united this duchy by the consent of the Estates of the country, to the Crown of France: in such sort, that it is of the essence of that Crown which never falleth unto the distaff. If you submit your towns to the tyranny of Philip, look hardly to see in them, by these impudent garrisons, that which we daily see in ours, the churches profaned by a thousand filths, villainies, and horrible sacrileges: virgins violated, matrons deflowered: & briefly the places and streets regorging with the blood of poor slaughtered innocents. Yea these infamous soldiers have borne so little affection to the Catholic religion, as to fix publicly upon the gates of the Cathedral church of Lisbon, execrable propositions against the doctrine of the Gospel, & the decrees of holy Counsels.  
Yea, but if these garrisons be so rigorous as you say, we will chase them out of our towns, & retire ourselves from the servitude of the Spaniard. I pray you was it easy or possible to your ancient Gauls, notwithstanding they enterprised it, to deliver themselves from the subjection of the Romans, until after many ages, & at such time as the said Romans had work cut out for them in other provinces of their Empire? To the Grecians, from that Philip of Macedon, and at this day from that of the Ottomans? To the Britain's, from that of the English Saxons? And see you not, that we have not been able to recover our freedom, whatsoever our king might do, either by the succours given him by your late king, or by those given him by the Queen of England about some 26. months past. No no, when you have once suffered yourself to be trodden under foot by such a proud & puissant usurper, it is more than difficult to raise up yourselves. It is not easy to remove the bridle when it is once put within the mouth, no more than for Horace's horse, who permitted himself to be bridled, for the desire he had to vanquish the heart in his course: but it fell out otherwise then he expected, for he could never since affranchise himself from the bridle, nor service of man.  
For God's sake, ye Frenchmen, after the example of your ancestors, be jealous in keeping your precious liberty, be faithful to your prince, and banish away from you this disordinate appetite of novelty, in desiring to assay the dominion of a stranger, what ever he be. For if it be dangerous (as Sallust saith) to make experience of new servants, it is without comparison far more dangerous to prove a new master, and principally so severe and rigorous, as is the Spaniard. If in the time passed you have offended, study to repair this fault, & you shall soon and with facility do it, if you rid from your heart this indiscréet affection of change, this foolish persuasion, that the king will take away the Catholic religion: and this pestilent root of avarice, which hath wholly wasted and corrupted you, as it hath done many other people. Do so hereafter, that Philip may not say of France, as jugurth sometimes reproached the city of Rome, where for money he had wrought all things to his advantage, and departing from it, oftentimes looking back, broke forth into these words: O City ready to be sold, and suddenly to perish, if it find out a merchant. But your avarice hath already done so much, that France is in far worse estate, for that it hath found a merchant that hath already gone through with it. Notwithstanding thanks be to God, he hath not yet taken possession thereof, and I think the earnest money he hath given, will prove a desperate debt, for that the sellers might not warrant the sale, having no right thereunto, nor repay the money without great difficulty: and albeit they had some right, yet the good counsel that Scipio gave to jugurth, who laboured by rewards, to purchase particularly the amity of the people of Rome, aught to have made him more wise. It is dangerous (said Scipio) to buy that of a few persons, which appertaineth to many. Take good heed, that this mischievous avarice take no further hold on you, lest you cause your posterity and foreign nations to say of this Philip, as of ancient was said of Macedon: Non Philippum, sed aurum Philippi subegisse Graeciam. And of our Philip: Non Philippun Hispanum, sed eius aurum subegisse Galliam. I am not ignorant that many among you know not of what force this money of Philip's is, having never touched it as his partakers, many Captains, officers, preachers, and others, have thoroughly done. For these are they which have miserably sold you, and assure yourselves, that you shall have daily more & more mischiefs heaped upon you, till you stop the mouth of these faithless preachers, or banish them as a mortal pestilence, if they will not as I have aforesaid, teach only the pure word of God, reprehending vices, for that is their vocation and no other. Which if you do, and withal crave pardon of your king for your rash rebellion and offences: I dare promise, that he will use his accustomed clemency towards you: and receive you, not only as a benign king his faithful subjects: but as a charitable father his well-beloved children.  
As for our lamentable and desolate Realm, the blood of our nobility, and of our best citizens, the imprisonment, exile and banishment of others: our losses, miseries, and briefly our hard captivity, which so hardly restraineth our throat, that scantly can we speak, and albeit we could, yet is it forbidden us, lest we lose that benefit to complain, exaggerating and redoubling the pain of our insupportable martyrdoms, either by loss of life, imprisonment, or at the least exile & banishment. Let all this (I beseech you) be as a clear mirror, to the end looking therein, you may see, may feel, touch and apprehend, that which you contemplate: and then, I doubt not but it may be said of you, Post infoelicem, rebellionis successum, populus facilè inclinari solet, ad vetus obsequium repetendum. Suffer not yourselves any longer to be seduced by the subtleties presents, nor fair promises of this Spaniard, who herein, as in all other things, is far more malicious than the Cyclops Polyphemus, for he used no artificial subtlety to draw men to him, and devour them: but Philip like an ingenious architect of all iniquities, inventeth millions of means to deceive, and tyrannize over you. Sed fugite, o miseri, fugite, yea even so soon as possible may be, lest hereafter you be constrained to do that which willingly you would not do. Be mindful to recover, and preciously to reserve that gorgeous title, which you have always carried, above all other people: namely, inviolable fidelity towards your king: retain even with both hands that inestimable liberty, which your ancestors have conquered by a million of dangers, and left entailed from hand to hand to your posterity. Finally let this be engraven in your hearts, that you are French men, that is to say, most affectionately zealous of your country, king and liberty, yea redoubted to all other nations, as being issued out of the stock of the ancient warlike Gauls: who oftentimes by force of arms have terrified the Roman common wealth, being the terror of all other nations. The Romans (saith Sallust) conquered all other nations, but as for the Gauls, with them they combated for safety and not for honour.  
It would highly content me, might I understand that ye have followed my sincere and faithful advertisement: believe, that I have brotherly advertised, and faithfully counseled you to your great utility and profit, and that all the rigorous & more than barbarous cruelties of the Spaniard which you have heard, are as true, as his tyrannous iniquities are manifest to the whole world. These things have I discovered unto you, as an eye witness, having remained in Portugal after the departure of our king, no less miserable than poor Achamenides, abandoned of his Prince Ulysses in the deserts of Sicily. For I have always even to this present lived poorly in dens, most often, in forests, rocks, and caves, and sometime in some little corner of my friend's house, like a languishing prisoner, which hath continually hanging before his eyes, the apprehension of a cruel death. Show not yourselves less credulous to my true speech, than were the Troyans' to that of the Greek Achamenides, 
Most happy the man which keepeth a care,  
By other men's harms to learn to beware.   
Sirs, I have declared unto you how mischievously you have been seduced by the Spanish faction, which pretendeth to usurp your realm, and captivate your liberty: for this is the final end of the plots & Monopolies which he hath practised, and of the dissensions, which he hath ingeniously sowed among you. Now therefore my desire is to advertise you in few words (but especially those, which may carry an opinion, that I have compiled this discourse, not so much for your good, as for the affection that I have to see your king, to the particular contentation of him and his, peaceably to possess his kingdom) that nothing hath incited me to this admonition, but the brotherly charity, & the good will that I have to see your troubles assuaged: to the end that you be not hereafter tormented by civil wars, & that the Spaniard possess not any more your sottish affections: but rather after so many & so great travels, which willingly you have heaped upon yourselves, you may enjoy a long & peaceable tranquillity, which all good men ought to wish for, & with hands lifted up to demand of the divine goodness of God: and not maliciously to nourish and enkindle war, which finally heapeth most miseries upon those which do most seek after it. Behold then your case, taking all things that I have said in the worst sort, touching the estate of your king, flattering yourselves, that without great difficulty he shall never become Master of his kingdom whilst you are his adversaries, & favorize the party of the Spaniard, or any other his enemies, & that for this occasion, I have taken in hand to induce you, to reconcile yourselves towards his Majesty, & require pardon of your follies. But the case is far otherwise, then either you think, or your preachers give you to understand. He is not (thanks be to God) so disfurnished of courage, of good and faithful subjects, nor of the assistance of his affectionate friends, who are puissant & many, but that he can both easily & speedily bring you to what reason he will, and wholly purge his realm of this loathsome Spaniolized League, yea, and follow the Master thereof by the trace, were he never so little pushed forward by ambition. For you know well, how many towns he hath forced & reduced to his obedience, and that even at the first sight. Neither are you ignorant, that his only clemency hath retained his puissance from forcing, subverting & saccaging the city of Paris: herein showing himself rather a father then a king, not willing to do that against his people, which he well might do, & their obstinate rebellion had justly deserved. But me thinketh it is now more than high time, not any longer to abuse his patiented clemency, lest at length it happen to your own great harm, as saith the proverb, Patientia nimium laesa convertitur in furorem. The example of many kings, yea of your own kings, who have chastised their people according to their merits, ought long ago to have brought you to this consideration, amending yourselves, rather to day then to morrow. And indeed there is great appearance that he will now betake himself to rigour, seeing his clemency can not vanquish your obstinate courage, by the great preparations of war which foreign Princes address to assist him: as the Q of England, who hath already sent good avantcurrors: all the Princes of Germany, many Princes of Italy, the kings of Scotland, Denmark & Sueveland, & other septentrional Princes. Yea, if he would require the succours of the great Turk, it is certain he might be furnished. In such sort that I see, that if you do not shortly remedy it, in submitting yourselves to his Majesty, the most terrible storm that ever lighted upon France, is even now ready to light upon you, to break a sunder & subvert the very eyebrow of your proud and detestable rebellion No no, look not that the Spanish king with all his double pistolets, crafty subtleties, & arrogant bravadoes shallbe sufficient to turn away never so little this impetuous & cruel tempest, hanging within two fingers of your head. Recourse therefore speedily to your Prince, before he hath exiled his mercy and clemency. I verily hope that by this you are become wiser than you were, & so shall your monarchy hereafter become more excellent than ever before, under the government of so virtuous & magnanimous a king.  
FINIS.