A discourse upon the present estate of France.  
Together with a copy of the king's letters patents, declaring his mind after his departure out of Paris.  
Whereunto is added the copy of two letters written by the Duke of Guise.  
Translated out of French into English: And now newly reprinted, and corrected by E. Aggas.  
Imprinted. 1588.   

A Discourse upon the present estate of France.  
MOst men do say, that it is a pleasure to behold from the shore, the waves to swell, and to mark from the land how the storm and the winds play with the Sea. I believe it well: and it is as much to say, as that it is better to see a danger a far off, then to be in it. But if from the top of a Cliff I should perceive a ship wherein either I had a share, or my friends were enclosed, in danger of being cast away, and without help, carried against the rocks by the currants and tempest; what a grief were it unto me, to find myself at such a spectacle. If France were nothing unto me, and I knew her state as exactly as I do, it were no matter unto me to discourse of it: when men should bring me the news, I would take them indifferently: yea I should receive them without any passion, being otherwise glad to be out of her broils, and hear talk of her stirrings with as little commotion and fear, as if one should rehearse unto me things that happened at Rome under Tiberius or Nero. I can not being a Frenchman: no I cannot so do, seeing the only bark of my hope, the vessel wherein I have all that which is dearest unto me, and which of itself is dearer unto me than myself, now see run to wreak my country, my first mother, whom such sundry diseases have brought to extremity, hardly panting out her last gasp. But there is no remedy: yet some part of the grief passeth away with crying: and such words as sorrow wresteth out of our hearts, are more violent than those which joy bringeth forth. If at any time in our affliction we sigh out some extraordinary speeches, witnesses of our grief, they are more listened unto, then if they came from a careless mind, quailed with continual contentations: which also bringeth forth no other than vulgar matter. These accordingly shall deserve commendation of their matter only, and not for any order or method. Others do service unto their country with their bodies & goods. They do well, seeing they be able: as for me, I can but lament mine own, I bestow only my tears on her, having nothing else left that might stand her in any steed: I commend those men, let them not blame me: I will do as they do when I shall be able: and they as I do, when they are brought to this pass.  
My Dicaeus, lying idle in the country whether other businesses had lead me, I heard the first report of the kings driving out of Paris by the Duke of Guise. As all matters are made greater, according as men esteem of them, so was there this first report. Every one doth bring forth his passions in steed of comments, upon such news as are told him. I know not whether being infected with this common vice, I did presently gloze upon this report: well do I remember, that even then I answered unto some that were speaking to me of it, that I could scarce believe that the matter was fallen out so rawly, although I did esteem the one capable enough of such a fear, yet would I never have thought altogether such presumption to have remained in the other. At that time or soon after, there were two sundry pieces of work brought unto me: the one is a declaration of the King, upon that which happened against himself at Paris, the 12, of May: but that so cold, so timorous as nothing more; much like unto a man that complaineth, and yet dare not name him of whom he hath been beaten: like unto a man that is afraid lest that his enemy be yet in his choler, and will not be content with that harm which he hath done him already. He dare not say that he hath been constrained to fly, neither that he hath been driven out: he dareth not term it an injury, much less declare, that he will punish it. He commandeth no more his people, but entreateth them. And to make up the matter, (which is the most shamefullest of all) he willeth prayers to be made in the Churches, to the end that this quarrel may be appeased, even as if he should fear that Monsieur de Guise were offended that he had not suffered himself to have been taken in the Louvre, but fled away. The other clean contrary, were two letters of the Duke of Guise, the one unto the King, the other public, both letters of a soldier, brave ones, courageous, whereby he gallantly commends himself of his doing: saith that God did put that day into his hands the means of a notable piece of service, rehearses it with few and stout words, without any show of fear, neither thinking to have done amiss. Last of all, he concludeth with a resolute threatening, that in spite of all the world, he will maintain the Catholics side, and drive from the king such as do favour the Heretics, meaning the Duke of Espernon. My Dicaeus, this hath moved me to send them unto you, you are curious of such matters: and even withal, the very indignation hath drawn from me this discourse of the state of France, such as it is now a days, whereby you may judge the better of these two writings. Publish it if you think it good, so that you keep in your name and mine, for we are called to other affairs. If not, keep it in your study.  
France is divided into three factions. The Duke of Guise and his kinsmen on the one side: as the dukes of Maine, of Aumerle, of Elbeuf, of Merceur, his brethren or cousins germane, to my judgement hold that which seemeth the greatest, and that is it, which with their partakers, they call the holy League. The king holds the second, the most lawful, but the weakest. The king of Navarre and some Catholic Princes of the blood, My Lords of Mountmorency, chief Officer of the Crown, of Turraine, of Chastillon, and many other noble men, as well of the religion as Catholics: the third, which may be termed the justest in deed, and as yet the surest. I call the first, the greatest: be it, because there is likelihood that it is derived, and as it were a member of the general conspiracy of all the Catholic Princes of Christendom, united and confederate together under the authority of the Pope, to make war against those which make profession of the religion: be it, because this band is new, and rare novelties do for a while carry away all: an argument whereof we may gather in the show that the Protestants during the first troubles made in this Realm, where they had seized upon all the good towns saving one or two only, and yet within the space of one year they had never a one left: or finally, for that it was framed among the Catholics, who do in number far exceed the Protestants, and who, albeit they be not wholly in all and through all of the League, do yet notwithstanding agree in this point, that they wish the preservation of their religion, & so seem to favour those that undertake the defence thereof: all which in deed do make this first faction to seem the greatest at this time, albeit that in troth it neither is, neither can so continue. I said that the kings was the lawfulest, No man dare deny it: So long as according to his own will he ruled his people, he only was obeyed, and so might still be if he list: but this list must come upon him betimes, for if it lingereth but a little longer, and that every man perceive that in his dominions any man may lawfully not only disobey him, but even coop with him without danger, he shall never recover his authority: God hath planted the means in his only courage. I said likewise that his faction was the weakest. It is true: albeit it seemeth otherwise, yet it is so, as by sundry reasons we may prove. First, the king who ruleth, hath so behaved himself that every man knoweth that of the three heads of the three factions, he is the weakest, he standeth in greatest fear, he dareth enterprise least: and contrariwise, that he is the man against whom every man dare most safely and easily undertake what they list. He I say hath taken such a course that now he hath nothing left wherewith to detain the minds of his subjects in his obedience, saving only the ancient regard that they have of their kings, together with the custom of the realm: which in truth are most mighty means in a peaceable estate, and yet such a civil war of four years continuance only, is able as easily to subvert it, as heretofore it hath done in shorter space at Rome and all other places where it hath lighted: for it springeth only of a contempt and disdain of the Prince, which are contrary both to duty and majesty. And then judge you what one of thirty years continuance, as ours is, may be able to do. secondly, he is in his Realm the declining sun, and so weak in his declination, that even in his presence he seethe them dispute, both by writings and weapons, of him that shall rise after him, In the days of the Roman Caesars, it was treason to speak of that, that should happen after the emperors death: much less durst they name him that they thought should succeed. Tiberius were able to say somewhat hereof, who after a certain sown that he fell into, in his old age lying sick in his bed was stifled by his heir Caligula, a young & flourishing Prince, for fear lest the old man coming again to himself should put him to death, only for that he was saluted as Emperor, when all men took the other to be deceased. So great was their power to keep their authority inviolable even to their graves. The Ottomans or Turkish Emperors will never suffer their children, whose possibilities they can not endure, to come near them. But if we must needs find a domestical example among our own kings: It is said, that the mighty king Francis, this man's grandfather, being weak & sickly, was in the beginning of May in his last year, at his Castle of Fontainebleau, where his sickness on a time so increased, that he was thought to be dead, or not like long to live: Suddenly all the Court came running to the Dolphin Henry, who for the like controversy of succession durst not in six or seven years come near his father: every one ran to worship this new son, so as almost no man of account tarried about the king. Well, the king for that time recovered, and upon the Ascension day (a very solemn festival day in France) being somewhat eased of his sickness, this old Prince ariseth, decketh up himself, cometh out of his chamber, painteth his hair & his face, to hide his age & sickness, appeareth himself in youthful attire, and in this array cometh forth to procession, wherein himself carrieth the Camnopie over their Corpus Domini, and at his return useth these speeches, I will scar them once yet ere I die. It proved true, the case was altered: for so soon as the king's recovery was bruited abroad, all the courtiers came dropping in by one, and by one in great fear, and the Dolphin yet once again, while his turn came, remained as solitary as his father had done. This it was to be a king: yea, this it was to be feared. How many lands be there yet in the world, wherein it is death to inquire who may pretend any title to the Crown after the Prince's decease, sith that is the thing that Princes do covet to leave most doubtful. Alas! It is not so with our king: his weakness hath given all the world leave not only in his presence to argue of his succession, but also to some to endeavour to force him to provide for it and to make his will, as if there were no more for him to do but even to die. His faint heart and the liberty to offend, have brought all to that pass, that at this day a Frenchman may as boldly as a Spaniard say, I am not on the king's side: whereas thirty year ago, such a word had been blasphemy, yea even parricide. Finally, his want of courage is so dishonourable, that myself being in a foreign land in the presence of a mighty Prince confederate with the Crown of France, where there was some speech of our estate, did hear one discoursing thereof, use these words. That our King stood but as an o in Ciphre, which of itself can do nothing, but being added to any other number, increaseth the value thereof. I heard it, and with great grief blushed thereat, even for the shame of our Nation, albeit the divisions of our Realm which force us to extraordinary remedies had carried me thither for an other purpose then the particular service thereof, neither was that speech any hindrance to the matter that I came about. Thirdly, he cannot assure himself of any of those whom he thinketh to be on his side: for they are daunted, because they see him quailed: They dare not fix themselves about him, because they see him totter. They dare not earnestly oppose themselves against those that war against him, because they see him suffer it, and yet scarce so bold as to complain. In this sort are all his Counsel, all his towns, and all his subjects grown into factions: And I do verily believe that among all those that are about his person, he perceiveth none, except some one or two that are his own creatures, that he dare assuredly trust: as having some other particular meaning than he, or taking part with some one or other of his enemies. For so soon as a king seemeth to fear any one within his Realm, or to mistrust that an other may be greater than himself, his Majesty is gone, he is no body, every man hath recourse to the other. Albeit we can not be free, yet will we have but one master: and if that master hath another master above him, we strait leave the first to run to the last: such is the nature of man.  
As for the king of Navarre's side, the beginning of these wars do prove it to be the justest: he defendeth himself, to defend it both lawful and natural, yea he so defendeth himself, as forgetting all occasions of complaint, he always made conscience to molest the king (albeit in the midst of the wars) whom he see otherwise busied against those of the league, notwithstanding he knew certainly that all those jars among them would light upon himself. Neither hath he so rested, but so oft as he might, he hath offered him both his person and goods for the recovery of his authority out of the others hands, with condition afterward to submit himself to whatsoever form of peace that his majesty would prescribe: he hath offered it, yea even since the last commotions, notwithstanding in all this war he hath had a thousand & a thousand occasions to prove that he is not to trust any but God and his sword. I have also very great reasons to term this as yet the surest. First his person is a great help: for his enemies have done him that favour to teach him to be a Captain. And surely so he is, yea such a one as may compare with the mightiest that ever was, and albeit it hath cost him somewhat, yet hath his apprentishippe cost them more: his partakers are more steadfast, they regard none but him, and are retained by the duty of conscience, which hath united them together, either for religion, or because they find themselves entered into a just cause: having had a better proof of his partakers, he cannot fear any greater brunts than he hath already borne, neither can his enemies practise any novelties against him: And if this third side had courageously assailed the other two, as they both have done it, they had been better shaken then this is. Moreover he hath achieved right of natural succession to this realm, which no particular person doth any way challenge against him: so that albeit all France were agreed to take from him the crown when it should fall, yet could there be none that ought to have it in his stead: for it is a great advantage to have no certain adversary. These undoubted hopes do purchase him many servants, and retain him many more, where in the mean time many men's minds, who are loath to see the alteration of the ancient form of their common wealth: being assured that it cannot be compassed without violence, are glad to rest upon him, who coming in by the ordinary gate needeth not to make any breach.  
This is at this day the order that is in the disorders of the Realm of France. These are the principal factions already ordered and framed. Others there be that have no set faction, but so far as may stand with the commodity of their affairs, leaning to one of the three, they come in a cross, having several purposes agreeing with the others, as concerning the beginnings, though to other ends. Of these there are the Q. Mother, the K of Spain, the dukes of Lorraine and Savoy. These do very well agree in setting forward the divisions of the Realm, to the end to dispossess the King of Navarre, with the Princes of the blood, but not in the patition. No. Each one coveteth the whole or at the least the greatest part. Other Catholic Princes there be of the house of Bourbon that remain with the king & in deed take his part, as being united in religion, which is the only separation of the king of Navarre, yet will never proceed so far, as to consent to the advancing of the house of Lorraine or Guise, before their own: and in that case will rather support their elder, the king of Navarre, as the head of their house. These bear great sway in France: For were the K. of Navarre away, the succession of the Crown should light upon some one of them: which is also a great hindrance to the D. of Guizes purposes.  
Besides all these confused and yet several divisions, whereto our mishaps do seem (as I have said) to have already given some shape and rule, every of these partakers hath his particular intent and proceed.  
The Duke of Guise with those which truly acknowledge none of the league in France but him, have this intent and principal scope, to seize upon the estate, either wholly or in part: a council which by inheritance his uncle the late Cardinal of Lorraine hath engrafted in their family. This Prince, the sole author of our broils, had a father and an uncle both cunning fellows. When our divisions first began in the days of the last king Charles between the Catholics, and Protestants, and that they perceived that the Prince of C●●de then living embraced the other party, themselves having been the stirrers up of the troubles, set themselves on the other: and indeed the late Duke of Guise was already become captain of his faction, hatching in his imagination, through his brother the Cardinal's practices, a secret intent to usurp this crown, either for himself or his posterity, whereas in respect of the K. and his brother's minority, but especially by the civil wars he see the way open. He deceased leaving this in manner a child under tuition of the Cardinal his brother: from whom, even with his Milk he sucked the seeds of his domestical ambition, which this young eagle's bird did so well digest, that in short space all men might perceive that the least part in him was greater than his father's loins. To say the truth, there are many good parts bred in him, fit for great purposes, and for my part I always took this man's birth to be fatal, and as it were a certain token that God purposed the alteration of somewhat in our country. He only is the whole league: the rest of his house are not equal with him: yea, they all together are not able to perform the least part of that which he enterpriseth. Full of dissimulation, very wary and discreet, and greater than all the rest of his faction. This doth all the world perceive by the effects. I have found it in his writings, and under his own hand in a matter of great importance: where had it not been for him, one of the greatest of his partakers, next himself had like to have committed a gross overfight. This is his intent and purpose. Now let us see his proceed, and how he behaveth himself. His mischief was this, that entering into a world of affairs, there yet remained many children in France, and those in a manner of his own age, who all were capable of succession each after other, of marriage, and of children, which might have been enough to have daunted him: howbeit all this notwithstanding, beginning to feel his own courage he was nothing astonished: but for a time disguising his drifts, he was content only to lay anchor hold, and in the mean time to insinuate himself into the Catholic faction, according to the instructions of his family, wherein fortune was his friend: beside, he is of great valour, & some of his enterprises have good success, so that together with the fame and memory of his father, he by & by framed himself, through the civil wars which his uncle the Cardinal still kindled, by one means or other, to be chief of the Catholic faction, carrying favour to those towns especially, which the massacres had continued very seditious and troublesome: and he stood still in fear of a Protestant Prince, whose citizens he entreated with great familiarity, courtesy, and popular behaviours, (the chiefest and most assured tokens of a mind that aspireth to tyranny). The late king Charles deceased without issue, and this king married, but hath no children: moreover, he seemeth that the Crown wanteth heirs in direct line, and that the Collaterals are called, whereupon he draweth near, and already showeth tokens that he craveth a part. It was given out in that he is the very stock of Charles the great, those of Valois are of the house of Capet, who usurped the Crown of France from his house, whereby there was some likelihood that he would scarce tarry the death of the king now reigning, and his brother, the remnants of the children of France, before he pleaded his succession against the Collaterals, but would even prevent them.  
Now was there nothing more against him then peace, for leaning only upon the factious Catholics, and seditious towns faction: he should thereby lose his credit, except the controversy were renewed against the Protestants. For as it is a plain case, that as civil war nourisheth divers factions in a state, even as certain it is that a long peace overthroweth them all, except the kings: so as his only remedy consisted in stirring up of coals, and returning us unto our civil weapons, and then to enterprise according as occasion might serve. And in deed in the year 1578, he made such a league as this last, but then was the king in his full authority▪ and Monsieur his brother alive, who retained a number of french minds, and so consequently kept him short of a many: It was straightway quenched, and we rid of it for a little war against the Huguenots, which soon after was appeased. Thus was France quiet for two or three years: during the which, it was incredible how many matters his troublesome, ambitious, & consequently, courageous stomach endured, suffering himself to be pulled down, and eat and drunk in divers manners, so to eschew all suspicion of this practice, which during the time of the peace, and the kings ablolute authority, he so cunningly dissembled, that many which knew not the last reasons of this obstinate patience, the token of a long and profane practice, did even contemn him. In the end Monsieur the kings brother, who was a great block in his way, died. He bore him some displeasure upon other occasions: for as he practised somewhat about the state of Flanders, so this man having private intelligence with the king of Spain, played him some bad parts thereabout: so that if he had lived (I have heard some say) that he would have been on the duke of Guizes jack: in whose time at the least, it had been hard for him to have enterprised any thing in France. This death, whether it were by chance or through any practice, came well on his side: I say through any practice, because the araigments & depositions of the lord of Salcede have kept many in doubt of such a matter. Immediately upon Monsieurs burial, when there was none but the king left, he thought that he had gotten fit occasion to achieve the practice which his father and uncle began thirty years ago, which himself also with so great labour had now brought to this pass. Some were of opinion that about the same time he had practised somewhat against the king's life: others that he grounded himself only upon some vain hope and protestations sent him out of all quarters, which assured him of the kings speedy death: But howsoever it was, he did not think it convenient, the state should be quiet at the Prince's decease, as knowing very well that in France a king never dieth, because that so soon as one is gone, there is an other straightway in his place, who at his entry would overthrow whatsoever the purposes that any man could commence against him: and therefore that it was requisite he should bear weapons against the heir even before the king's death, and so be armed with the late kings name and authority. According therefore unto these fatherly precepts: and with his own domestical means he began to trouble this Realm again in the year 1585. beginning first with the king: whom because he could not by any persuasions induce to make war upon the king of Navarre, he thought to constrain by force. His pretences are, that the king hath no children, so as the Crown is like to fall unto Heretics, whereby he and all other the Catholics of France are put in a fright, especially seeing the Protestant Captains (so noting the king of Navarre) are in favour and have their secret intelligences with the chiefest and those that are nearest about the king's person. This he spoke of the Duke of Espernon, who was lately returned out of Guienne where he had seen the king of Navarre. Finally, very fitly using the fear that he had put the king in: corrupting all his Council, and all that were about his person, he causeth war to be denounced to the king of Navarre and the Protestants, which lasteth yet to this day: through the whole course whereof I imagine that he seeketh no more but some occasion once to attempt, (as his fact at Paris well testifieth:) for as he weeneth, he needeth no more but that. Well, the wars being thus open against the king of Navarre even by the kings advise, consent, and authority, yet will it not suffice, These are daily labours. This Prince is stout: of great valour, he hath goods plenty, and many friends. There is now nothing to be gotten of him but stripes. As for his person it is safe enough, if they neither murder, nor poison him, as God forbidden they should. And for his towns, twelve Realms of France will never be able to take them all. Yea, had he lost all but his sword, when soever God should call him to this Realm, yet were that enough. How many kings have there been fetched both out of prisons and Monasteries to their sacring. In our days we have seen Charles the seventh, who was banished into the Mountains of Awergne, crowned. jews the twelfth was yet in manner prisoner in the great tower of Bourges when he was proclaimed king: neither is it credible by any humane appearance that the king of Navarre should ever be brought so low: and yet will not all this suffice. A lawful right in succession is a marvelous point. These considerations do break the Duke's ambitious brain. He seethe that he must not only make the place for the Crown void, but also he must make himself capable both to enter and usurp. The one consisteth chiefly in the king of Navarre's subversion, the other in the increase of his own wealth and credit, which will grow on but slenderly, so long as he is content with governing the armies under the king's authority, and of himself to war against the Protestants. A thousand other things there are that may fall out in such an enterprise, which would utterly disgrace all his affairs: and as I have said, there is not much to be won from those that know how to defend themselves. Again he mistrusted, that sith he had perforce brought the king into this war, he would never furnish him of things necessary for the performance thereof, but against his will, and yet that so long as himself had the leading of the armies (if he compassed not such effects as might be worthy the great hope and brags that he had given forth) he were quite overthrown. These things considered, he was content to send his brother into Guyenne against the king of Navarre, while himself did here set upon the king's person: at whose hand he first hoped by sinister means to gain more, & with less loss. Hereupon at his brother the Duke of Maines return out of Guienne, where he had done nothing but increased the credit of the king of Navarre & his lieutenant general the lord of Turraine, with whom he had chiefly had to do, they both together with their kinsmen and partakers do openly set at jar with the king: albeit still under their general pretence, viz. of warring against the heretics: whereupon the holiness of their weapons did depend, and whereby they still retained the catholic faction on their side. Now at the first blush, to set upon the king it is a shame: they can have no colour. There is never a prince of the blood among them, neither is any of them so great an officer of the crown, as that it may beseem him to reform the king & the realm: and yet without this, their general pretence against him is to no purpose. The king is no catholic, he is superstitious: he hateth not the Huguenots▪ the Huguonets are poison unto him, he thinketh it a sin to talk with any of them, and that day that he hath so done he must go to shrift: he hath brought more of them to their ends then the Duke of Guise hath seen: he hath done them more harm than the duke of Guise wisheth them, & of him have they more cause to complain than of any of the league, the heads whereof have always showed more favour and courtesy to them particularly than he, a commendation which cannot be denied them. What is the remedy then? Immediately upon the duke of Maines return out of Guienne he publisheth a libel against the Marshal of Matignon the kings lieutenant in that province, whom the king had joined with him in office: wherein he accuseth him of treason and intelligence with the king of Navarre & the protestāns: & that (saith he) was the cause that in all that journey he could perform no great matter: yea he accuseth him so covertly that he also taxeth the king, of whom he complaineth, saying that he cut him short of coin, victuals and munition, and so taketh from him all means to achieve any thing: yea he proceedeth so far, as to say that he is the best friend that the heretics could have. Hereupon the duke of Guise on the other side crieth out, that it is the D. of Espernon, who for malice toward him favoureth his enemy the king of Navarre, and therefore restraineth the king & maketh him to have no care of this war: thus for that he dareth not beat the master he striketh the dog. That man, saith he, is the support of all the heretics in France, & so he stirreth up all the world against him: and presumptuously he protesteth that he will not suffer him to have any part, town or government in France. Yea albeit the kings guard be free of all suspicion of heresy, yet because that lord had the rule of them, he causeth them twice or thrice to be assaulted & overthrown in Picardy: and upon this pretence doth he as well in that government as else where seize upon as many towns as he may. Well, the king would pervert him, and retain his towns in obedience, & to that end doth use such power as he hath about him▪ which are (as I said) his guards & those regiments whereof the duke of Espernon is colonel. Hereupon is the quarrel proclaimed against the king himself, & things brought to such pass that the duke of Aumale besiegeth Bulloin, the duke of Guise taketh Paris, expelleth the king, slayeth, taketh and strippeth his guards, as himself boasteth. By his account every one that hath any towns or governments which he will not hold to his use, is an heretic: whosoever endeavoureth to keep him from the kingdom is an heretic: These be new articles of faith. It is said that the D. of Espernon hath since resigned his governments into the king's hands: namely that of Normandy, which was given to the D. of Monpensier, I know not whether it may make him an heretic also: which were somewhat strange. Well, to conclude this matter: the D. of Guizes intent is to be king if he can, his proceed and means are the civil wars and division of the french catholics against the protestants, whereby he becometh captain of the first, with whom he is in greater credit than the king himself, or any catholic Prince of the blood. Herein let them not mistake: for of these two things by his devices he hopeth for one: either so to satisfy himself during the king's life, and so to settle his affairs that after his decease he may overthrow the king of Navarre & keep him from the estate: or else, if he cannot keep him from it, at the least to force him to parley with him, who will still be protector of the catholic faction, & that now without example: for it he once overthrow him, and with him the rest of his house, this must needs ensue (for the one dependeth upon the other) that either he will possess the kingdom alone, or else he will divide it with his partakers, still keeping the greatest and best part to himself. To this banquet doth he invite the king of Spain, the Pope, the Potentates of Italy, and all catholic princes near hand, to whom the mightiness of the realm is as prejudicial the king's prosperity and the king of Navarre's hope is as greatly to be feared, as the overthrow of either of them is to them profitable. But the very worst that I see in this practice is, that he can in no sort bear with the kings long life, whereof he had need to take heed: & I believe that if he had stayed but a while longer in Paris, the matter had been dispatched. But howsoever it is, I suppose that that is the thing which at this time doth most trouble the one and scar the other.  
He that shall now call to mind that he that is now king of France is the same person that won the battles when he was but seventeen or eighteen years old, who never came in place but he had the victory, whose valour and reputation even in the spring of his youth purchased him foreign Crowns, yea crowns over the most warlike nation that we know in the world, cannot but he must acknowledge that the only slackness and mistrust of his own power, which through the impression of others have seized upon this sometimes so valiant a heart, is the whip wherewith God at this day scourgeth our realm. Of this Prince we must needs say, that had he been borne in a good world: had he had servants worthy himself, which had loved his mightiness: had they not even in his nonage caused him to take the affairs in hand with pain, and pleasures with ease, which maketh him now to hate the one and love the other: had no man since ceased his government, and molested his mind, God had undoubtedly endued him with great good parts, whereby he might have compassed great matters: but his mother's passions, who sought to advance him, to the end he might stand her in stead, with her other son, thrust him forth to labour when he should have given himself to pleasure: glutted him with honour before he had any stomach to evil, and brought him out of taste with ambition before he had any mind of it. Besides all this, if a man may lawfully note any imperfection in him, this is it, that he hath been somewhat given to love his ease and rest, which is a common vice, not in Princes only, but also in most men. In fine, coming to the crown, he found the realm full of licentiousness, which the long civil wars had brought in: and replenished with factions and disobedience: he found all his greatest lords infected with several purposes, in am of one general mind that they ought to have been off for his service: and hereto was his own patience a great furtherance, as having this imperfection, that he found no resistance, if he were not crossed, or if he lived in peace, he would deal absolutely & with great majesty: but if he met with never so little difficulty, he always preferred a soft and fearful remedy before boldness and severity, whereto also the mind of one of his chief counsellors of estate, who hath likewise had most government over him ● hath been a great help to enure him. He is the first king that ever the captains and governors of his holds compounded withal, or demanded money of to give them up: I mean not those only, whom the jealousy of the civil wars had made partial, but the others also that have always taken his part. He is the first king whom men might boldly without fear offend. For, for my part that which another would peradventure in a king term clemency and mercy, and which particularly he would commend in this man, because he never sought greatly to revenge such injuries as many had committed against him, I would sometimes; especially when it doth exceed, call negligence: which is prejudicial to his majesty, and which if it be not to be reproved, is not at the least greatly to be commended in a prince. Albeit this is to be granted, that when these miserable wars began again, God had put sundry good motions in his mind, and he was entered into a way fully to reform his realm, and relieve his people, so as those of the league had never committed other trespass in France then this breaking of his good intents, yet have they heaped a wonderful burden of curses upon their own heads. Well, now to return to the present estate wherein he now standeth, and his purposes: undoubtedly he hath such as are most lawful, for they tend only to the preservation of his life, & maintenance of that authority which God hath given him, howbeit in the conduct of them he hath a very bad cause, cruel to his people, noisome to his realm and dangerous to himself, as the effect doth sufficiently show. This mighty prince doth as well know whereat the D. of Guise shooteth as another: and he hath reason, sith it is at himself that he chiefly aimeth, albeit being miscounsailed he hath hitherto taken but a crooked way to withstand it. Indeed he is in some sort to be excused, as having no one about him, whose counsel is not prevented either by desire or fear, and having on his side almost none but himself. When the D. of Guise had thus armed himself under the name of the holy league (a name but too well known already in France) they straightway propounded unto him a most false principle, viz. that in his realm there were but two factions, The Huguenots & the Catholics: that unless he would take upon him the government of the one he should have none to take his part, & so according to the proverb, between two stools the tail goeth to the ground: That the Huguenots were the weakest and therefore that consequently it were best for him to join with the catholics, for in so doing he should win to himself all the credit which the house of Guise had already gotten, which would be their destruction and his preservation: that for the achieving hereof he must show himself most passionate & cruel to the heretics, & make war upon them in earnest, yea & exceed all men in wishing their harm: and that by that only means reclaiming all the catholic faction to himself, & taking upon him to be head thereof, he might with ease both overthrow the house of Guise which he both feared & hated, & by war rid himself of the Huguenots and their captains, to whom he wished no great good. This was their counsel, which is to the great prejudice both of his realm and himself, he hath hitherto believed: God grant he may now consider of it, & perceive that the effects thereof in am of making him, as he was persuaded, captain of the catholic faction, have now brought him to be the only minister of the D. of Guizes passions: in such sort that so soon as the other did but stir against him, he believed, that to diminish his credit & means, he must needs show himself very busy against Huguenots & thereupon with notable commissions, terrible edicts, & mighty armies show himself rigorous to those that fear & honour him, and which offer him no injury, & favourable to those that devour him at his own gate. Thus so soon as he had received some crack by those of the league, as soon as they began some mutiny against him, or that they seized upon any town of his, so soon I say, might the king of Navarre be sure that he would be upon his jack, and with all send an army against him. Oh blind Prince, that thought that those men which willingly would have seen him dead, grounded themselves but upon one pretence, and in case that should fail him, he would wrest from them by imagination that which by force he durst not prove! Cursed be you that give him counsel. Are ye not ashamed ye traitorous counsellors? must a king suffer factions in his estate? must he needs have any other than his own? Is it not a goodly part to be a king? If you say that these two factions were there already, and past remedy: O ye wretches, who brought them in but yourselves, that still do nourish them? Is not civil war the mother of these factions: cease that, and you shall see them fly. Let a king keep himself in his strength, and kinglike say, I will have peace, and you shall see that the boldest of these partakers durst not gainsay it: if he must needs make war, let it be against him that would hinder the peace, and he will soon overcome him. Nevertheless, according to this principle, they made him to believe that there was no safety for him unless himself would undertake the same pretence, as the favourer of the league: also that it were requisite that he should in appearance show himself more earnest against the protestants than they: That the catholics were already united with the D. of Guise against the others: That the only means to disunite them, was to take the D. of Guizes place, and thunder against the Huguenots. This was his belief & his counsel. In the mean time together with this persuasion, fear seized upon him: yea such a fear as was chiefly grounded upon a just mistrust of those whom he had even about him: so as so soon as he saw the league armed, the gates of Paris were scarce sure enough for him, himself visited them, and whereas he might with his only countenance have sent all the authors of this mutiny an hundred foot under ground, so soon as he heard of it he was amazed: he by & by sent his mother to them to desire them to be content: to excuse him, for that in the time of peace he made not so great account of them as he ought: to promise that hereafter he would content them, yea that they should but ask & all should be granted them. To be short, he did in a manner humble himself before his subjects, to the end to keep them from mutining against him; whereas it had been his part to have taught them, that he both would & could punish their rebellion. All this notwithstanding he had no great mind to the war, as wisely considering that it was a diminishing of his authority, and if he feared it against the league, he was not desirous of it against the protestants: but at length being overcome by his mother, who had other drifts in her brain than he, and almost by all that were about him, he grew to a final accord with the Duke of Guise, and perforce consented to the war against the K. of Navarre, unto whom not one month before he had by thirty letters of his own hand testified his own judgement of the intents of those of the league. This hath been the counsel that the king hath hitherto had. Now there is no doubt but he could have wished the king of Navarre to have been strong enough to have forced both the others & himself to grow to peace: but of his own motion to propound it he never durst: for had he done it, he looked strait to have been stifled by the mutinous faction of the league. Well, he mindeth to live, to reign and to be obeyed as well of the protestants as of those of the league. A desire both just and reasonable, and so he might, if he would: but with these pernicious principles, sith himself calleth his power into question, and dare not do the part of a king, let him not think it strange that others should enterprise to counterfeit his person. God grant that at length he may earnestly desire to be that he is, that is, the master and greatest lord of his realm: but this can not be, unless he be king, and that shall he never be, except he resolve himself to wish the wealth and peace of his people.  
As touching the king of Navarre, his condition and intent, it is clean contrary or differing from both the others, of which I have already spoken. Even as he agreeth with the king's purpose in the behalf of preserving of his life and authority, where against he neither could, neither would attempt any thing: so likewise he differeth from him in that that concerneth the liberty of the churches of France, for the which the war is made against himself, whiles he goeth about to release them from it. But he is every way contrary & opposite unto the enterprises of the duke of Guise and the league. First, whereas the other, to whom ambition giveth the same hope for the crown of France, which right and nature hath given unto this, cannot put it in practise but by war, by the subversion of laws, and alteration of the state of the realm: for if he should make no invasion, or if every thing kept their ordinary course, he hath no right to it, no he could not be called to it. This on the other side cannot look for it but by the means of peace, by keeping every thing in order, his desire is ordinary, and in maintaining the laws, his title is lawful. And if he would take any other way by violence or usurping, he should find his rival as much stronger and surely settled in this behalf, over that he is, as he hath an advantage in the true succession. In the mean while besides the right of the realm which looketh on him, he carrieth moreover upon his shoulders the burden of all the churches of France, he beareth all their hope upon his head: his overthrow to man's likelihood is their ruin and oppression: his greatness their liberty. And that is it which increaseth the power of his enemies, and which lincketh together against him all the catholics of Europe. Of truth, whiles I think now upon this one, as I did lately upon the other, me thinketh that God under these two mighty men, will exercise our state: the one having yet more strength of body and mind to preserve it, than the other hath to destroy it. But the other having as yet more means, by the reason of the opportunity which he had, to join with the greater side, and to have had the means to use even the king's authority: this will cause me to make some small digression to compare them together: for such are they, as they well deserve to be inserted into Plutarkes parallels, I force myself as much as may be, to judge of them without affection, although I should in respect of my religion, my side, and infinite other occasions favour the one more than the other: yet I wots not whether this affection doth not rob me of the liberty of my judgement. But me thinketh that this man, how worthy so ever the other is, hath many good parts in him whereby he goeth beyond him. I speak not of their practices, I call them not in question. I do not so much as give my judgement of those of the duke of Guise, but condemn them: For I am a Frenchman: I speak only of such qualities as God hath endued them withal, proper in the one to have them such, and in the other to oppose himself against them: I will say then that this man hath all his life through, yea from the beginning of his youth fought against necessity itself, all his business hath been full of it, he never did any thing but with pain, the other contrariwise hath had all to his mind, had always all opportunity for the first. Item of his enterprises, wanted always rather workmanship than work, rather form than matter, rather will then means. Nothing did assist this, neither did any thing resist the other. This maketh me to conclude first, that seeing by these sundry ways they have found themselves one as great as the other: the one must needs have learned more, have more experience more courage, more force: the other more ambition, more hope, a thing bred in him by the greatness of his means, & by consequent of more enterprise, and more audacity. That the one hath less show, less vanity, less pomp, & less bravery in his affairs: the other less experience, less assurance, and less stability. Which maketh me to think that whensoever this man shall find himself in great abundance, he shallbe better able to use it, than the other could defend himself against necessity, if ever he were brought to it. I will make no mention of the former wars, wherein notwithstanding the duke of Guise had fortunes gifts always at will: and this man contrariwise hath often tried what misery may, yea even the extremest: (I speak of that whereof I will now say:) that if I had seen this great enterpriser assailed two whole years, by eight French armies, which were sent to the refreshing one of an other, & led on a row by the best Captains of France, amongst the which I account his brother the duke of Maine: and that at his departure from thence, not only he had lost nothing, but besides that he had taken seven or eight good towns, & won a great battle, having in his hands no other means in the world to build his deeds upon, but his courage alone, as I have seen happen to the king of Navarre, I would then think that I might compare them together: but until then, there is no reason so to do. Some will say to me that the D. of Guise hath had many more enterprises and greater ones, & all that the king of Navarre could do, it was to resist, I grant it. It was an easy matter for the one to enterprise, every one favouring him: difficult to the other to resist, every one being against him. As the labour, so the glory ought to be greater. They have notwithstanding many humours both like and different, but no small things, no slender ones. Both are of great courage, they had need of it: both are gentle, courteous, friendly: both are active of body, used to toil, and acceptable. But their minds are much diverse. The one is most honest, frank, openhearted, free minded, sometimes somewhat hasty, well resolved notwithstanding upon present occasion, and dangers: so earnest about that which is said before him, and so bestirring himself about the uron that ought to be beaten whiles it is hot, that he hath the less regard to that which is passed, as also to that which he must follow: he will conceive few far fetched practices, being content with his hope, and referring all thereto. The other is diverse and as bad as may be, secret, close, crafty, patiented, even so far as to be blamed for it, as I have said, dissembling, laying down his platforms a far off. For he must forge his own hope, looking a loof off, taking nothing in hand but what he is sure to bring to pass: but I wot not, if he were upon the very point of danger, whether he would usually grow to so ready a resolution, sith he hath not had so often trial thereof. Howsoever the matter goeth they are both worthy men, and of the worthiest that ever France did bear, such as could have performed notable actions, if a mighty king would have used them, and his time have suffered it. To come again to the matter. As for the king of Navarre, he neither hath, neither aught to have any practice about the state, his possibility doth sufficiently furnish him, and beside, he hath enough to do to break those of his enemies: his war tendeth only to peace, and the quietness of the realm: but such a peace as to the which he will never agree, except the churches of France, & so consequently the strangers if he can, may be at liberty. He needeth not plead his right to the crown it is no time: moreover, that which is sure, ought not to be called into doubt or question: much les need he busy himself about the overthrow of those of Guise & Lorraine. He wisheth not their harm, except as they wish the realms, to the which if they would be profitable, he acknowledgeth them most sufficient, as concerning their particular persons. Their degree is not equal with his, who useth the name of a king. That name keepeth him from thinking upon theirs. His only drift & purpose (if he hath any) tendeth to defend himself, & after such a sort, that he may constrain his enemies to render unto France her peace, to the king his authority, to him & his their liberty. After that, let them of Guise enrich and advance themselves as much as they can, so it be not to the cost of one of these three, it skills him not. The proceeding and the way that he taketh about it, is not certain, it dependeth upon the same which the others do hold against him. If they let him alone, he stirreth not: if they come to weapons, he runs to them: if they lay them down, he doth the like: that is the reason why the king knoweth in his heart, that when the rest of France shall be agreed, that there will be little or no difficulty at all with this man, who being led only by reason, may be at all times easily brought to it again.  
I have spoken of the three principal heads which uphold the three factions that are in France: we are now to mark such as come in by biways, what drift and scope they have, whereat they aim, and what hope they have to hit on it. Amongst these, the first is the Queen mother unto the king, who for her credit's sake, and in show, keepeth herself on her sons side, as she did always, when she had many sons, hold with him that was king: but who notwithstanding hateth nothing more than his absolute power, as being the worse for it. When France was in peace, she was feign to spin her rock at home, her son left her no charge, nor dealing in any matter. That she might recover her authority, she was fain to shuffle the cards, or have intelligence with those that shuffled them, otherwise she was of no use: which her mind, that could not think on small matters, could never brook. And of this Princess whose race hath ruled, & ruleth at this day over the best parts of Europe, it may be said as it was of Agrippa, V●●ribus curis mu●ebria vitia exuisse, If that already were not a vice in a woman: it hath been always her custom, in France to stir up one against another, that in the mean while she might rule in these divisions. The mighty against the mighty, Princes against Princes, yea her own children against her children. For she know well enough that our state standeth so, as that a woman, except it be by some extraordinary ways, is of no credit therein.  
In the time of the late king Charles, this that now is, was then her protector, whose power she did increase as much as she could, to the end she might use him to make herself necessary unto the other. The king at length perceived it, but too late. Since that, this being come unto the Crown, wherein to speak the truth, he was infinitely bound unto her, whiles he was in Polande, being as well assured that except she had wisely provided for it, there had been such stirrings in France as perchance at his coming home he had been kept from getting in. She kept her credit for three or four years, whilst this young king dreamt of nothing but the pleasures of his age, and the deliciousness of his new estate: but since, beginning to take upon him the affirmative voice, and to seek to rule alone, she was forced to have recourse unto Mounsieur her younger son, who for a while upheld her, and made her to be esteemed necessary. He being dead, she chose other remedies: for howsoever it be, she hath ever wished two things. The one, to make him that was in possibility of the Crown to be beholding unto her, for to keep him in when he were come to it: The other, to make him in the mean while so great, that he that were master of the State, should be forced to use her help in bridling the other, employing after this manner very quietly both their powers one against the other, that betwixt them she might rule and be sought to: such a council as particularly for herself was as full of wisdom as often full of troubles and inconveniences for the commons. Now, if after Mounsieurs death, she had found the king of Navarre fit for these practices, she had made her buckler of him: but seeing that his religion, and many other considerations did hinder her, she hath cast both her eyes and her heart on the house of Lorraine, and her daughter's children, whereunto the hatred that she did bear unto this Prince, even from his infancy hath been a great help: So that esteeming herself not able to be reconciled with him, she consequently doth fear him, and is fully resolved to hinder him in all that she can, from getting any part in France. She can never do it without the overthrow of the order of the Realm. For (as I said) after this hatred cometh in the love she beareth unto the children of the D. of Lorraine, who are her daughter's children, towards whom she hath a secret inclination, never ceasing day nor night to reproach unto the king, that he ought rather to love as his heirs, his Nephews, his Sister's children, than a stranger unto his house: so doth she term the king of Navarre. The daughters of Spain are also her daughter's children, upon whom she would likewise be glad to bestow some part of the same: not being grieved in the mean while that her son's state is in trouble, to the end that he should have refuge unto her, and that she may be employed. Now in this manner she agreeth well with the Duke of Guise, to cross her son, to stir up, and open the way to confusion, and about the means to alter the order of succession in our realm: but to wish that he should wax so great that he might overthrow the king himself, & dispossess him, and himself afterward to invade the whole state, it is not likely, I cannot believe that she desireth it. Now under this the Queen mother's intent, I comprehend also that of the Marquis du Port, her little son, son unto the Duke of Lorraine, who likewise hath no intelligence or hope in this our state, any further than she his grandmother doth procure him to conceive.  
Next, there is the king of Spain, who from the beginning of these wars, seeing the Queen of England to knit a strait alliance with our king, seeing in the same time also the Commissioners of the low countries at Paris to offer him the sovereignty over their provinces, it came in his head to cast three or four thousand crowns into the hungry hands of the league, so to set France in troubles, as being assured that by these means he should keep the king from thinking upon Flanders, the which he did most fear: as indeed, there is but the only king of France, so he be in peace, that can easily take these Provinces from the spaniard. This is that which brought him in, and consequently, that somewhat overhastned the Duke of Guizes devices. Besides that, he feareth now extremely, lest the king of Navarre should attain to the crown of France: he is his enemy by nature: he detaineth a kingdom from him, which no doubt if the others ●●awes may grow on, will be wholly pulled away, and more perchance withal. He knoweth well enough, that he being old, his children young, his state divided and scarce settled, small matters after his death will trouble it: much more a king of Navarre, if he were king of France. Therefore he is glad to frame himself unto those of Lorraine, to find them means to stir up coals, that in the mean while he may more freely go about his wars of the low countries, and of England: to molest the king of France, thereby to overthrow the king of Navarre: to the end that afterward the realm being left for a pray, he being the mightiest, might catch the greater part. This is his drift as concerning our state: but that he would proceed so far as being burdened with many other particular expenses, he would yet draw his treasures dry, to make the Duke of Guise king: he I say, who is persuaded that if it were so that the manner of succession must needs be altered, his daughters the kings Nieces, aught to have the better part: That which I say of the K. of Spain may likewise be applied to the duke of Savoy his son in law, who is of much less power, and hath no other devices then his father in laws. These are all that either do good or evil unto France. These are her good or bad humours: These are the prosperous or contrary winds which torment & trouble it. And of their discords and passions as diverse as themselves, as differing and contrary as they are, dependeth her good or evil hap. Oh mighty Empire! the glory of Europe: to the which the course of 1200. years could bring nothing but increase, thy enemies nothing but glory, there was some reason that after so many victories, thou shouldest end by thy own hands, thou shouldest stoop under thine own force, seeing destiny had not created in the world any conqueror over thee.  
But leaving of this manner of speech, which rather provoketh me to weep than to write: seeing that the division of religion doth serve for a pretence in the alteration of our Realm, and so consequently in his destruction, if God suffer it so, this evil being almost common to all the states of Europe. I will slip a little a side to speak somewhat of the general affairs of Christendom, in that which concerneth these two great factions, the one resting yet under the obedience of the Pope, the other having cast it off. I will not entreat hereof as a Divine. I know very well that God commonly trieth his by affections, as the means to keep men in their duties, and immediately to have recourse unto him whom they think but little upon whiles their neck is swollen up with prosperity. Neither am I ignorant that the son of God pronounceth these words: My kingdom is not of this world: thereby teaching to the true Christians, that it is not here that they ought to seek their ease, and although they find themselves afflicted, yet must they not mistrust of their cause, as if God did detest them, and were purposed to root them out from the face of the earth, albeit contrariwise, they see the Turks, the Heathen, the poor blinded once in Popish superstitions, have all at will: and conquer Realms, furnish Provinces, and them of veins of gold which never dry up, and their armies prosper every where. That their good hap procureth them such men as to do them service will attempt upon those Prince's lives that are their enemies, even in the midst of their Guards. Finally, they scarce have yet wished, when God suffereth them to see their desire fulfilled. Where clean contrariwise he hath laid this necessity upon his true servants, that they shall take his cross upon their shoulders if they will follow him, pass through the strait gate, and after his example pass away their whole life in grief, affliction, & in necessity. According to these rules and tokens, which cannot be applied to any other, than those that make profession of the true reformed religion, it might suffice me to conclude, that they whom God afflicteth after this sort, are his true children, whom he will afflict, but not utterly cast away: whom he will chastise, but not punish: whom he useth as his children that offended him, in doing otherwise than he commanded them, and not as servants that have rob him. And after such a manner, that although at this day throughout all Christendom the greatest potentates of the world be confederated, united, and joined together against them, it is all in vain. God will never suffer that which is his to be cast away: they are his, he well may dip them two or three fingers in the water: but presently he will stretch forth his arm of deliverance to pull them out of the gulf: and that could I (besides the indubitable truth of that promise which he made unto his) prove by the course of things that are passed in the church since the foundation of the world. But as I have said, my purpose is not to reason like a divine. It sufficeth me to prove that we have not only that great supernatural pillar of God's power for our defence, as an impenetrable shield, against the which, all the darts of the world turn their points backwards: but also even in the world itself, and among all humane means he hath given us without comparison more than our enemies: so that if we suffer that they afflict us, it is but our fault, because we cannot help ourselves with that power that he hath given us. All Christendom which is under the Pope's obedience, is at this day joined together to root out those of the religion. Who are those wicked ones? let us judge of their power, and see whether it be so great as that we need to fear it. It is the Pope, it is the Emperor it is the king of Spain, there be certain Potentates of Italy: In France are the duke of Guise and his kinsmen, who make the king and the realm to serve their turns as they list. In Switzerland there are certain Cantons: In Germany, divers princes. I have named all, and them by the most glorious names that I could devise: there are Popes, Emperors, Kings, and numbers of Princes. It is said that all these terrors of the world are gathered together to this purpose only, to make an end of those which profess the true religion, God grant it, so be it. The more enemies, the greater glory. But let us search them a little nearer, we shall find that all these men have some particular intent which they keep to themselves, and that to maintain their unity they all agree only in the general. What intentes? let us specially consider of them. The Pope's is manifest: Luther, Zuinglius, and Calvin, have abridged him of two parts of his revenues: the third is in great danger, they labour about it. He would both recover that which he hath lost, if it were possible, and assure against hereafter, that which he holdeth. The whole realm of England is slipped out of his hands: if the king of Spain could plant there again the catholic religion, it were so much recovered for him. France hath never showed him any great obedience, the church of France had always her privileges by herself: yet it is nothing, thinketh he, in respect of that it should be, if ever the king of Navarre should come to be king of it. He feareth lest he should come over the Alps: he is of the race of Bourbon, fatal unto Rome: beside that he is already egged on against the Popes, for his kingdom of Navarre, which most unjustly they have passed over unto the Kings of Castille. Moreover, he feareth least that a mighty Prince like unto this, do one day bring a great reformation in religion, which can not be done without diminishing the authority of the sea: which notwithstanding will be as easy for him to do, as it was for Philippe the fair, and many other kings of France, enemies to the Pope's usurpations. Thus his chiefest interest is to cut this Prince short of his hope. For his part he doth what he can, he thundereth, he stormeth, he curseth, he declareth him an heretic, a rebel: finally, not capable of the Crown of France, as though it lay in him to take it away, or to give it. For the execution of this Bull, which in deed of itself could do but little against the bulwarks of Rochel, (if that were all) he armeth all Christendom, yea even the Cardinal of Bourbon, to whom he sendeth a hallowed sword, of the race of Saint Paul: he promiseth money unto the Guizians: he promiseth, but he sendeth not, as having not yet paid that which his Popedom did cost him, according to the Romish style.  
To conclude, as it belongeth to him, he worketh miracles with his Crosier staff, and his purpose and drift is, to animate all the world against the heretics, among whom he comprehendeth the Queen of England, and the king of Navarre his principal enemy to his thinking, whose overthrow he looketh for, by the means of this universal league. As much or more occasion hath he to complain of the high and low Germany, as of France, and England: but he thinketh that after that the king of Spain and those of Guise shall have chastised, that is to say, usurped France, and England, in driving out the heretics, that is to say, the true princes and lawful lords: after that they shall have tamed the low countries, they may without any gainsaying join their forces with the Emperors, so to constrain either by friendship or force the Princes of Germany which are Protestants, to come again under the yoke of his obedience: that after that, being no great likelihood that the Suitzers would obstinate themselves against such great forces, seeing their Cantons are already divided, they altogether might easily assist the Duke of Savoy, to recover Geneva, and to sack that town which they call the spring and fountain of all heretics of Christendom. It is there that he concludeth the end of his desire, and of his holy leagues enterprise. Which I have seen written by Pope Sixtus himself, in a letter intercepted about the beginning of these troubles in France, sent from Italy into Spain. And as for him, this is his pretence, that is his intent grounded upon that general hatred which he beareth to the heretics, but especially unto the king of Navarre, and the Queen of England, of whom he hath received harm enough already, or is afraid to receive more.  
The king of Spain hath three particular purposes, for the which he wisheth this general league. The first to compass the wars of the low countries which are held by those whom he calleth heretics, and against the Queen of England, who is likewise of their number. The second his hereditary desire to join France unto his dominions: which he thinketh he may now the more easily do, in respect of the right that belongeth unto him through his wife, a daughter of France, and his daughters gotten betwixt them: for as for him, he thinketh not that the Salic law, the honour of our kings, was made for him. The last, the overthrow of the king of Navarre, whom he purposeth, whatsoever it costeth him, to remove as much as he can possibly from the crown, for many reasons that he hath to fear this great enemy, whom God keepeth for to be one day the destruction of his house. For the benefit of these three purposes, he is come in, and hath much solicited this general league, which strengtheneth to him his title of war against England: of enmity against the king of Navarre: ministereth to him opportunity to enterprise under hand against the state of France whilst he favoureth the affairs of the Duke of Guise his partner, with whom, except it were for this, he could have no intelligence that might yield him any profit: by his means in France he doth hope to overthrow the king of Navarre, also he hopeth to use the havens of Picardy, and Normandy against England, & the low countries: being sure enough afterward, that the king of France being dead, his lawful successor dispossessed, and the realm left as a pray, he shall be able easily to divide their part unto those of Lorraine, being stronger than they: and thus may we see that he turneth the general pretence of this goodly league to his particular benefit and purpose, even as though it had been only made for his domestical affairs.  
The Emperor would galdly, that all the other Princes of Christendom which are of the religion, were overthrown, to the end the whole body of the league might come to set him free from the protestants which are his neighbours: but because it is yet a long piece of work, and that it were not good for him to bestir himself much, lest he should waken those mighty princes which are stronger than himself: he rusheth not far in amongst them, no more than the other princes of Germany.  
I have discoursed enough of the duke of Guizes intent and purpose, which is to make himself alone king of France, if it be possible, or at least 〈◊〉 the better part: such a purpose as willingly admitteth no fellow, & for the which a man will not lightly labour for another. This I do here note only to show that to help himself in France by the means of Spain, to the furtherance of his enterprise, & in recompense thereof himself to help the Spaniard to recover his low countries: to see the Queen of England, to whom he wisheth even death itself, whom likewise he knoweth to be the only support of his enemy, quite overthrown, he will have notable intelligence with the king of Spain: but to yield him wholly the crown of France, and to hold it of him by homage, if he be able to usurp it, or to give him over the better part, I believe he will not. In the mean while these pretences being grounded upon nothing else then the division of religion, we must confess him to be one of the chiefest pillars of this holy league.  
The princes of Italy have no other purpose at all than their own preservation, being enclosed on one side by the Pope, on the other by the Venetians, on the third by the king of Spain: besides divided, and their States so small, that they have small leisure to think of any other matter than to maintain themselves: and for this reason only are they come into the league. But they are not so good catholics, but that they fear more the increase of the house of Spain, than the decay of their religion. Such as have been in their countries do know this  
The Duke of Savoy is also comprehended in this general union: so long as his father in law shall live, he will have the same enterprises that he hath: if he dieth, he will have others, as I shall show anon, which altogether do synpathise with those of the league. The duke of Lorraine likewise, when every body shall come to reap the fruit of his labour, and the interest of his charges, his conclusion will not agree with the D. of Guizes proposition. The Cantons of Zuitzerland are not in my opinion entered into the league, because of the alliance which they have with our king, and the bond that knitteth them together in their country. Notwithstanding I doubt not, but that for money they will find forces, not generally unto the league, but particularly to the Duke of Guise, yet have they after made some difficulty thereof.  
Of purpose have I showed the intent of each partaker of the league, to prove that which I have said, that every one of them had some particular meaning disagreeing one from another: to the end that thereby I might show, that whatsoever good intelligence they had one with another, it were very easy for us to have a better. All with one course will I seek out, what are their means and their forces: in the which I hope to find so many wants in respect of that which is in our hands, that we would be ashamed to suffer ourselves to be beaten. I will begin with the weakest. Of which number I take the Emperor and the Catholic princes of Germany to be. For although undoubtedly they be of great power, yet the Protestants their neighbours are of such force, as every man doth know: to wit, the king of Denmark, the electors Palatin, of Saxony, and Brandenbourgh, the Landgrave of Hessia, and many other great princes and lords; so that if they would, the other durst not seem to have enterprised any thing at all. I have showed what the forces of the Cantons of Zuitzerland are, and how the general league may have use of them. As for the princes of Italy, the Duke of Savoy, as our nearest neighbour, is the most to be feared of them all. But first, it is but a small matter of forces that may come from him: next, he rather resteth upon sure possibilities, then upon uncertain ones. His father in law is old, at his death he hopeth to get somewhat, and I do think that he will rather cast his eyes upon the states of Milan and Naples, if the succession of Spain come to be divided, as there is great likelihood: for the daughters who are as ambitious as may be, and already by their father himself trained up in the handling of affairs, and almost put in full possession of his kingdoms, will hardly be content to be married for a piece of money, and leave such great riches unto their young brother, sickly, and as they say, an Idiot: so that, me thinketh this Duke hath work enough cut out already, needing not to busy himself much about any enterprises on this side of the Mounts, which enclose him in. On the other side beyond them, he can do so little though he would, and he findeth himself in a country so full of disadvantage, that being of one side kept by the Germans, on an other by the Zuitzers, on the other by the Frenchmen, and on all sides by the Alps, such forces as he could raise out of his country, which can be but very small, cannot be transported to any place, where they may perform any thing without great loss and difficulty. As for his money, to make good cheer at home he hath enough: but to make a great war, not so. The other Princes of Italy, as the Dukes of Ferrara, of Mantoue, of Florence, and of Urbin, which are almost the chiefest, be all added to, for to increase their roll, and to say: Lo what a number here is, and not for any other matter: If there were any war in Italy betwixt two mighty Princes, such as were Charles of Spain, and Francis of France, they might indeed much further his affairs, whom they would assist. If there must be an army made up by sea against the Turk, each one of them shall well be able to set forth a Galley or swain, and that is all: but that they may do much in a great war, either against us in France, or in England, or in Germany, or in Flanders, not so. Besides that, as I have noted, they will never be so deep in the league, but that they will fear more the increase of Spain, than the decreasing of Rome. The Duke of Parma, as he is Duke of Parma, may be of the number of them, but in respect that he commandeth over the forces of the king of Spain in the low countries, surely he is a great captain, without doubt he hath gotten great reputation and credit, be it amongst the Armies which he commandeth over, be it amongst the countries where he maketh war, yea, a credit by inheritance, the remembrance of his mother's government, being most agreeable amongst them. But withal, he were but unwise, as well as the Duke of Savoy, if he had not certain purposes to himself, or if he would stick more to vain possibilities then to certainties. For my part I believe, that he is not resolved to have laboured all this while in Flanders for an other. But there is a farther point in this matter, which is, that as long as he shall make war there, as Lieutenant to the king of Spain, he may do much harm: but if once he take the way to make himself lord of it, as he may easily in that which he holdeth, after the good man's death, seeing he can only perform it by gentle means, and the good will of the people, he is not to be feared any more, but must needs withdraw himself out of the league. As for the Duke of Lorraine, he is a great lord, but a petty Prince: take away from before his eyes the hope of possibilities, which they made him conceive in France, for his son, which only hath brought him in, with the league, he will eftsoons take that side which may breed his own quietness, and not seek any quarrel. He is very wise: and therefore I believe that our stirrings in France proceed not from him at this time. Notwithstanding there is no doubt but that he employeth himself in this general matter against us: but I think that in this point there resteth this benefit, viz. as long as he shall hinder the growing up of the Duke of Guise his cousin, as he must needs do, for his sons sake, he doth us more good, then otherwise he could do us harm: now he hindereth him in respect of the crown, the which at length agreeing and having some intelligence with the Queen mother unto the king, his mother in law, he will rather demand for his son then for the other. And I hold it for a most true principle, that the duke of Guise our capital adversary, is already so far in, that he must needs either be king, or be undone altogether: there is no mean for him between these two extremities. Marius, Cinna, Pompey, Lepidus, and Anthony may be examples hereof. As soon as a man hath aspired unto tyranny, Aut Caesar aut nihil. I have spoken heretofore of his means: they are indeed great enough in France, because the side of the catholics is great, amongst whom he is of great credit, and his assurance being his chiefest strength, that the king will put up all his presumpteousnesse. But as for him, I doubt not, but that as his particular purpose tendeth to our state, so, if he had in his chests the ducats of the Indies, he would make a breach in them, & afterward do much harm unto others. But he is extreme poor, and indebted, the second token of a man that commonly aspireth unto novelties. Besides that, he hath too many that stand against his purposes, not only of his enemies, as the king of Navarre, and the princes of the blood: but of his own friends, as the heirs of Spain, of Lorraine, and of Savoy, and those of his own house, which do pretend as much right to the usurping of our crown as he doth: and to the which, seeing he must needs use them for his turn as he doth, he must needs likewise give some part of his prey, if he can pray upon any thing: which will breed him infinite jealousies, so that all the power me thinketh, of this partner can stretch no farther than to the dissipation and dismembering of our realm: yet shall he be feign to have help thereto. For, that he should make war either against the Germans, or Englishmen, he will hardly do it, or at least it will never be, before he hath made an end of his matters in France, which is a long piece of work. And upon that I will observe one most true quality of our nation: that is, that such is our nature, that we can be content under a king that is already established to divide ourselves, we will make civil wars, and uproars: but if there were none, or that we were to provide for the Crown, we would never suffer the renting a sunder of it. For if a prince should nor find himself to set foot in the whole, he would hardly be suffered to divide it, except he were a mighty Prince near unto it, as the king of Spain, who by his strength, and by the means of his Countries, might hold the part that he had ketched up: yet were it hard for him. Finally, I will use but two testimonies to show that this man's power, is no such great matter. The one, that in the beginning of the league, when his fire was most kindled, when men thought that at a word of his mouth, all France would set up their crests, he never found himself accompanied with a thousand French horsemen, and four thousand footmen at the most: yea all those vanished away in one month, notwithstanding, that he had prodigally spent all the money which he received out of Spain, and his own in gathering them together. The other, that being since entered into the war, a small army of reisters, consisting of four thousand five hundred horsemen, and of three or four thousand Lansquenets, with a few Swissers, did pass in spite of him through his government even to the very heart of France: did beat him, and beat him again in their passage, as often as they saw him: albeit that he had called about him all his friends, partakers, and power, and that he had beside all this, the best part of the kings: albeit likewise that a year before, he had boasted, that he would fight with the Germans even upon the Rhynes side, and that it stood him greatly upon for his credit so to do. But yet without doubt, if men should suffer this head of a saction, to grow on, and except God had bridled him, he is the greatest, the ablest, and the most dangerous enemy, that such states as make profession of the religion can have.  
There are yet behind two of the worst: to wit, the Pope, and the king of Spain. The first is the brawlingest, the most seditious of all, and yet nevertheless the weakest. It is a common thing, Acutum reddere qui possit ferrum 〈◊〉 ipse secandi. To speak the truth, he serveth for nothing else but to edge their knives. The Popes they cannot tell an hour before they are, whether they shallbe Pope or not. Before they come to that, they are most commonly petty Italian Cardinals (for controversy keepeth the greatest from it) who during the Cardinalship, had no farther practices then to catch some annate or benefice. Those that are able to stir up coals, are not lightly preferred: Italy hath fared the worse for it. Last of all, none can come by it without paying well for it: and they are all such good husbands as that they leave as little as they can to their successor: insomuch that the new Pope hath enough to do for the three or four first years to pay those which have sold him his See, and afterward to live. And it is an extraordinary thing when they pass nine or ten years: else straightways they say: Exiit sermo interfratres, quod discipulus iste non moritur. For they are very old when they are chosen: so that ere they can do any harm, they are carried to their graves. And as for this man if there were no more but he, we should not need to fear any thing else then Bulls and lead, which hurt none but those that are afraid of them. The king of Spain's gold were much more to be feared: whom I have kept for the last, as the greatest of all, and the first mover, who maketh all the others to move. But he for his part hath likewise many discommodities which bind his hands: and of this one, because all Europe ringeth of his name, we must say somewhat the more.  
This Prince is son to Charles the fift, that great troubler of the world, who hath tossed all so much topsy-turvy, so long as he was in it: who was happier by the means of his Lieutenants then by himself: who had either for his friends or for his foes at sundry times all the Princes of his time: a mighty Prince notwithstanding, vigilant, a warrior, (if ever there were any) and painful in the wars: besides full of courtesy and humanity, and such a one as truly was worthy of the name of Caesar, and worthy of the Empire. This same was brought up in affairs by his fathers, even from his cradle: yet was he much more happy than he: and his good hap consisteth in this, that as long as his years could encourage him to great matters, he never met with any that crossed him. His father had at one time the great Francis of France, the great Henry of England, Solyman in the East part, and the Princes of Germany, which thoroughly exercised his wits: So that, on what side so ever he turned himself, he found business enough. Besides that, he found all the Countries round about him, as strong, and as like to set upon him, as he upon them. That was it, that made his fortune so diverse. Contrariwise, Philip at this day king of Spain hath been favoured with such fortune as had never interruption. But that is more to be attributed, to that which tell out about him, then to himself. France in his time hath been ruled by a woman, and by children, or so toiled by civil wars, that they have always found work enough within themselves. England likewise ruled by a woman, who following the nature of her kind, hath wisely contented herself with maintaining her subjects in peace, and defending her state from her neighbour's attempts, not enterprising any thing against them. Germany by peaceable Princes. The East parts by Selim a great drunkard, who took pleasure in nothing but his drink, and since by Amorat his son, half an Idiot, who stirreth not from the Mosquetta. So that we must not say, that he had good luck every where, but that he found no where any body that might breed him any evil luck: all which notwithstanding, he hath performed no great matters. The conquest of Portugal and of Jndia, hath been more easy than lucky: there was no great labour. The conquest of Tercyera, and the victory over the Frenchmen shall not seem so strange, if we consider that it was a whole army of Spain, against a company of ships gathered together in France. As for the battles of Graveline, and of Saint Quintin, they were yet remnants of his father's victories, they were the armies that from their youth had followed the old man's fortune, there was but little of his, his person itself was not there. Nothing did stir in Italy, in Burgundy, in the kingdom of Naples, in Sicilia nothing: where contrariwise in Africa he hath lost Gouleta, the only labour of Charles his father, and all that he had there. His victories have not stretched so far in Flanders, but that there is more behind to do. The reason why? because he hath found there some resistance. It is an easy matter for a man to win, when no body playeth against him. Now, even now, having gotten enemies worthy of his forces, we shall see what he can do in England with all his great preparations: we shall see whether he shall keep still that renowned great fortune. Concerning the state that he findeth himself in at this time, it is such. First he is extreme old, and yet more broken. He hath but two daughters, and a young boy: they great ones, ambitious already, and proud to the uttermost: the one Duchess of Savoy, the other brought up in her father's arms, and in the affairs of his estate, the which she alone governeth: his son is little and sickly, as I have said: now are these occasions of divisions. For in Spain the daughters may succeed. Besides that, his state is much divided. The low Countries, which were his best mesle, are far scattered from him. All that which is cut off from him, as the Provinces which are united with the Queen of England, he can see no hope ever to recover. That which the Prince of Parma holdeth under his authority, he scarce assureth himself, that after his death he will faithfully surrender it unto his children. The other is a brave Prince, a great Captain, beloved of those over whom he commandeth, esteemed of the others as I have said, who hath used great moderation, and observed his faith to his people, that are already highly pleased with that manner of government, which his mother had used before him: who hath purchased great credit amongst them, and that enough, to make him hereafter able to keep this portion instead of Portugal, which to his judgement the king of Spain hath taken from him: and who howsoever it be, will be grieved that all his labours should be dedicated to a maid, or to a little boy. The Duchy of Milan is near unto the Duke of Savoy: he will pretend right unto it, in the behalf of his wife, and according to his contract of marriage? The kingdom of Naples, and the towns of Italy will follow the fortune of the Duchy of Milan. Portugal is he as yet scarce assured of: the Portugals grieved that Spaniards should rule over them, as much the more their enemies as they are nearer unto them, as it is an ordinary thing to all people. The Indies a● well the Portiugalles as the Spanish ones, the only sinew of this state, will belong unto him that shall possess either Portugal or Spain. The case thus standing, this Prince hath henceforth more need to think upon the preservation of his house, and his Lordships (which doubtless are like to be divided after his death) then to trouble his neighbours. To speak the truth, he is rich: but he is at infinite charges, scarce having any country where he is not forced to keep a great garrison. That he standeth in need, he maketh it known sufficiently to the troops which he keepeth in Flanders, where he is sometimes a year or eighteen months without giving them a penny. As he is rich of money, so he is poor of men: he can get none but only out of Germany, out of Spain, out of Italy, or out of Burgundy. Now therefore mark his weakness. As touching the Germans, if we were all united together, we would keep him either from raising up any, or from bringing through any, the Italians and Spaniards, of whom he can furnish no great number, (for they are no populous countries, as every man knoweth.) Before they can come to deal either with France, the low countries, or Germany, the places where we are, he must lead them either by sea, or through such hard ways, that if we were all of one mind, he should lose half of them before they were able to do him any service. The Spaniards cannot come but either by sea, or over the mounts Pyrenees: The Italians over the Alps, or through Germany: such ways, as if we would we might stop them all. Last of all, there is nothing more wretched than himself in his own country, nothing so easy to be beaten. And it is most sure that he might easily have been overthrown by Portugal, if he had been lively set upon that way, since Don Antonio was driven out of it. Thus have you briefly the state which the migthiest of our enemies is in. Which to my judgement, being well considered, ought not to seem so mighty, as he is esteemed. The effects with all and example do declare it: Seeing that in twenty years, that he hath employed to conquer Flanders again, the only place where he hath employed all his power, he hath not profited much▪ yet can it not be said that he hath found there any resistance worthy of him: notwithstanding it is evident, that, had it not been for the late Mounsieurs evil rule, and the Prince of Oranges death, most wretchedly by murdered, a manifest token of this enemies weakness, he was almost driven to despair, and had lost all these Countries, without any remission, whatsoever he could have done.  
When our enemies state shall thus be considered one by one, it shall be found according to the common saying, That all is not gold that glistereth. But if they be yet nearer observed in gross, it will stand well with that judgement which I give of them. They shall be all found far distant in places and Countries. The greatest and strongest part is in Spain, and Italy: yet they be distant four hundredth Leagues by land: the other is in France, but it is such a small thing, that if the power of Spain and Italy should not join together to help it, it would be soon smothered up. We shall see that each of these partakers, which enter into this general League, do bring but the least part of their wishes unto the general intent, all the rest being for their own particular, we shall find that the most of them tend in manner to one thing: the king of Spain, the Duke of Lorraine, or Savoy, and of Guise, to the Crown of France. Wherein, it cannot be chosen but that there be some jealousies, and that the same thing which uniteth them, severeth them again. We shall see also, that they have contrary purposes one to another, as those which I have observed of the Duke of Parma, and the Duke of Savoy. And in fine, we shall mark that of the two last, viz. the King of Spain & the Pope, who are as it were the pillars of this league: the one is extreme old and so sick, that even this year he hath given over all manner of business: yea so far forth, that many are of opinion that age hath bereaved him of his senses. The other, which is the Pope, can make no reckoning of his power, but so long as he shall live: and considering his age, he cannot live long, leaving perchance such a successor as will rather busy himself to build up his own house, then to pull down another man's: that will rather devise new practise●, then follow his Predecessors. Thus have you by whole and piece 〈◊〉 seen all our enemies forces. Now if against their general means we oppose ours generally: if we gather together those of the Queen of England: of the king of Navarre: of the king of Denmark: of the Princes of Germany: of the states of the low countries and of the Cantons of Switzerlande, what a power shall we find? If we use ours against them, by reason of the commodity we have, to join ourselves without any let, France, England, Germany, both high and low, and Switzerlande, joining one to an other, shall we not sooner overthrow all their practices, than they can take them in hand? We I say whom our religion may knit surer together than them, as being better than theirs: we that have no other purpose but to defend ourselves and maintain our rights, which united us together: who have no particular intent that might breed any controversy amongst us, or being contrary might divide us. There is no doubt of it: let us them see the proof. It is three years agone, since the king of Spain cut down all the forests of Italy to build his Carraqu●●● buyeth all the moors of Africa, to make Galley slaves: turneth the Indies upside down, with digging and seeking to find out an the Goldmines, as though he had no more to do hereafter. It is three years agone since he had no other speech but of Ankers, of Cables, of ropes and sails: since he threateneth the Ocean, if it doth not use his ships gently: since that he chargeth the winds to favour them, and all this to make up a mighty and spanish (that is to say) proud army by sea, whose shadow alone may cause not only the masts of ships, but also all the tops of the steeples of England to stoop. For these three years space he is with child of an army. And to speak the truth, as these great pieces of work are not soon brought forth, nor with ease, so he bestoweth much time & labour to be delivered of it: but things commonly are lesser at their birth then men think of. Then in the end it shall be borne in Biscay, weaned at Conquer, and finding itself right against England, it shall have strength and stature enough to receive the order of knighthood. Doth not this prove, that in one only place, viz. England we are able to resist the most dangers of our enemies? It is three years since he threatened it, he hath not yet so much as made it afraid. Tush, when will he be able to hurt it? It is as long since the Duke of Guise (who in a manner playeth with the king and the realm of France, his power being helped with money out of Spain, with the forces of the Prince of Parma, and all the Catholic states) maketh war against the king of Navarre: in which space there hath been eight armies by land levied to that purpose, and the ninth by seas. Of nine of them thanks be to God, eight are gone back again without doing any thing: the ninth hath been quite overthrown in a battle. Now, if it can not be said that this poor Prince was in the mean while assisted either with one penny or one man, the money & helps which his friends had sent him, being not yet come as far as unto him, is it not a certain proof that this people hath more facing than doings. It is twenty years since that the low countries are set upon by the same king of Spain, with all the forces that he could make out of his country, out of Italy, and all those that he could get out of Germany. He hath been always fortunate in it. Almost all the battles that have been fought there he hath won. What hath he done. They are yet at this day in such a case, as if they can once have good correspondence one with an other, he is to begin of new, & in danger of losing his labour, his pains, & his charges that he hath laid out in that country. judge you now, if so it were that the king of Denmark the Princes of Germany, & the Cantons of the Swissers, which they durst not meddle withal, had brought their helps & forces to make these violent dealings of the king of Spain in Flanders and England to cease, and those of Guise in France: how long to man's judgement, were they able to stand before us? I leave more to conclude hereupon, that I speak not of. In the mean while, although we have more forces than they, that we have better means of intelligence one with an other, yet do they agree better one with an other than we do, & are stronger than we are. Let us return that reproach unto our negligence: and not attribute it unto their industry: to our base minds, and not to their courage. God hath put into our hands the means both to live at rest & to defend ourselves from their tyranny: yea & to bring them under the yoke, if we would so do. But to make an end of this speech divine like, even as I have begun it, I believe that it is the same God, and the same Lord, who will not have us to hold our deliverance as from ourselves, neither from our own arm, but from him alone.  
Me thinketh that my mind is now much eased, when that after I have run over all Europe, which is altogether almost troubled and afflicted with dissensions in religion, I return unto France, which I thought only to have been plagued with this evil. God visiteth not it only, neither is it alone threatened: other places have their part, I return then to her again better satisfied than I was, to conclude this discourse which I began for her sake. This visard, this vail, which had bleared up first the king's eyes, and after him all the Frenchmens, is at length pulled away. When the league began first, three years agone, there were men yet that were either so without shame, or without sense, as that they excused this rebelling, they shadowed it with a zeal of religion, with a care, lest that after a good catholic king, there should succeed him a Huguonet. This served the traitor's pretence that were about the Prince, whom they knew so dedicated and passionate towards his own religion, that even with this word they stopped his mouth, they took away from him all manner of replying together with all the means that he might use to judge what he had to do about this matter. But now, I do not think that there is any body in all the realm, nay not the veriest jesuite, that could excuse the Duke of Guizes attempt at Paris, against his own king. What a manner of one it was, I desire no other discourse then his own, the very same which he hath published. Now if one should ask what, in my mind will ensue upon it? he should trouble me shrewdly. I have said elsewhere, that nothing is more dangerous for a king, than the impairing of his Majesty: that there is nothing which diminisheth it more, then if he show, that he feareth some body in his realm: it is a kind of fear, to suffer presumpteousnes, and not punish it: Yet when it is but a common presumption which concerneth particular ones, the cloak of gentle clemency sometimes doth excuse thnorousnesse: but if it be towards the Prince himself, if it doth violate the holy respect which men own to the sacred person of the king: whosoever suffereth them, is no longer king. If this unexcusable treachery be pardoned, if the king letteth it slip under silence, it may be well said, Sceleris finem putas? gradus est. And there is no doubt but that within these two years there will be such bold and villainous actions committed, as that this shall be counted but for a light trick of youth. I am of the reformed religion, thanks be to God, who hath vouchsafed to make me such an one: me, I say, who through the forgetfulness of his great benefits, had made myself altogether unworthy of this latter one, which is not to be compared with any other: nevertheless, if so it were that the king should think that the king of Navarre and we with him had attempted such treacherous and detestable practices against his life, and estate, that with good conscience he might not pardon us. God forbidden, that under pretence of this quarrel I should counsel him to call us to him, to forget our offences, and to use our help to bring him out of those troubles, whereinto he is put daily by his own folks. But not as a Frenchman, not as a Christian▪ but as a man, I dare well counsel him. What, counsel him? nay prophecy, that if this argument of the wrath of God against him, doth not stir him up to wish his own good, and with his own good, the quietness of this realm: the way of peace: the means to become a king: to take away all part takings out of his realm, except his own: and as the Sceptre belongeth to none but himself, not to suffer it to be broken in pieces, and every one most unworthily to carry away a morsel of it, himself being the first, and most true cause of his mischief, let him be assured, that in steed of taking it away from him, God will increase it double fold unto him. I will not only speak of those of the league. I do yet speak of ourselves. That which others do through wickedness, we do it by necessity: yet notwithstanding all is a like to him in regard of his crown: it is as well spoiled, and pulled a sunder by the one as by the other: his people as much trodden down by us as by the league. And were it not that we defend ourselves, where they set upon us: that where we are pursued, they pursue: that where we submit always ourselves unto him, the others would submit him unto them: it might be well said, that the harm which we do perforce unto his realm, is as great as that which they do for their pleasure, and to sati●●ie their ambition. For this evil, alas, there is but one remedy: let him only take upon him to remedy it, he may be a peaceable and absolute king, obeyed, feared, beloved, dreadful, if he list. But what do we wish that God should put the power into his hands, except first he hath the will in his heart? Mighty Prince, why dost thou not believe thyself? thou hast nor so faithful a counsellor. I have heard thee heretofore blame the king of Portugals fault, who adventured all his state upon one battle: as judging wisely, that there is nothing more miserable than a disherited Prince. Oh! where hast thou laid up thy wisdom? thou venturest thyself upon less a hundredth times then a battle. Who hath been able to persuade thee, that these men who have no other desire than thy death, no other scope than thy crown, will lay down their weapons which they have vowed against thee only, when they see thee bitterly bend, and very cruel against those of the religion? No no, thou must give over thy crown, else thou shalt never have peace with them: and I believe if thou couldst give it over without danger of thy life withal, thou hast enough about thee that have such brazen faces, as to counsel thee thereto. They have driven thee out of Paris which never the Englishmen, the Spaniards, nor the Germans did thy great grandfathers: yet by thy letters patents thou showest unto thy people, that in stead of revenging thyself of it, it seem th●thou thinkest it very long, until they have pardoned thee. Thou commandest them to pray to God for this reconcilement: there is then belike no other danger to lift up any man's hand against his king. Believe them, that he that durst to day make thee fly, will dare to kill thee to morrow. But is not this, oh mighty king, an adventuring of thyself, when thou lettest thy subjects perceive that it is so easy a matter to attempt against thee: when in stead of revenging thyself, thou prayest that those may be pacified, whom thou oughtest to have punished? Who could so mischievously persuade thee that the remedy of my mischief was the civil war● that by that course thou shouldest recover thine authority over thy subjects. Alas▪ how art thou deceived? There is nothing more dangerous in a building then fire: in a body, than a continual fever: and in a state, than a civil war. If thou wilt remedy these evils, quench the fire which burneth thy house: assuage the continual fever of the body of thy estate, give it peace. For that is the only mean to preserve thy realm. Thou sayst that if thou shouldest but pronounce this word of peace to them of the religion, thou shouldest have presently upon it all the catholic armies of Christendom against thee, which will spoil thee of thy state. Yea if thou pronouncest it as he that lately fled away from Paris, before the duke of Guise. But pronounce it as he that wan the battles of jarnac and Moncontour, who alone wert more dreadful than all the rest of thine army: utter it only after that sort, that thou shalt find all men to tremble.  
If upon this good and holy resolution, thou wilt arm thyself, England, Germany, & Suitzerland will cover all thy plains with horse and armed men, for thy service. They will send thee sufficient forces to beat Spain and Italy, yea and thy France, if it were joined with them. Think thou that this will be first the benefit of thy realm, and it will be easy afterward so to persuade thy people, when thyself shalt believe it. And thy people, if thou be willing of it, they will account all such as shall wish the contrary to be their enemies and thine. But thou fearest the league: Who then shall be bold for thee: whence shall we take courage but from thine. Grant a reasonable peace and quietness unto thy subjects, begin with thine own first: with the catholics, make them to be content with reason, and fear not then but the rest will be brought to it: they are too weak to stand against thee in an evil cause. Such a one will theirs be if they refuse an indifferent peace: but they will not do so: they never did it. It is too common a proverb in thy court. Let them be pleased with a sermon. Thou art yet afraid: good Lord of whom? of the king of Spain? Show him the pictures of thy father, and thy grandfather, and he will tremble even to the farthest of Castille. Of the Pope? Hast thou not yet about thee some heirs of Charles of Bourbon? these are but toys. How can it be possible, that thou who hast seen so much, who hast handled so many matters, who hast so great experience, canst have this apprehension engraved so deep within thee, and upon so small an occasion? Believe these two principles: the one, that thy enemies have their best friend of thee: the other, that if it were not for that black cloud which thou seest about Rochel, which they fear more than thee, they would have buried thee long agone: but yet add this third also, and believe it, that whensoever thou shalt earnestly wish the good and rest of thine estate, it shall lie in thy power to be master, to bring as well the one as the other so far under, in respect of thy obedience, and thy place, that they shall not be able to turn an Egg, without thy leave. They persuade thee, that the strongest side is the catholics, and that thou must needs ground thyself very deep therein, and become chief of it, to take away this title from the Duke of Guise. They persuade thee, but they deceive thee. The parties ought not to receive thee, neither thou to go unto them. They ought to come to thee, & thou to receive them. To be a king is thy part: thou hast no need of any other: let all the rest yield unto this. What meaneth this? that a king of France should enter into controversy with a Duke of Guise, that he should be put in danger of losing his credit by his means. Dost thou not know that this controversy maketh thee equal? and presently being equal, inferior? well may there be steps to climb up to a crown, but there is none to come down: it is a down right fall. If a king come never so little downward, he falleth down right. They counsel thee to feign thyself sore angered against us: after thou hast feigned a while, thou becomest so in earnest. They yet deceive thee more, and were it not for thy affection to thy religion, thou mightest judge easily of it. Assure thyself that this D. which becometh so mighty in thy realm, keepeth to no otherend the best part of that which he hath with him, but only because it is to thyself that he hath a meaning to. Dost thou think that those which serve him have no other scope than the destruction of the Huguenots? No, no. What is there to be gotten against them? If I had given myself over to follow him, for my part I would think to have done it, in respect of his hope to be king one day. For that he should be thought well of in respect of his zeal towards his catholic religion, in putting many Huguenots to death, it will serve to raise up all the porters of Paris, and make them cry: Have amongst the Huguenots. Those which are sufficient to help him to turn up a realm, have other considerations than that. Now these considerations are not put out of their heads, by thy fierce countenance against those of their religion, and thy quaking looks towards the league. This is contrariwise, the way to increase them, their helps, their servants, and their authority. When men see, that thou showest, that thou art thyself afraid of them: who then shall not fear them? What emboldeneth men, but impunity? Of nature we love to be at liberty. There was never any realm but that it did strive to become, if it were possible, a popular estate. There is nothing that a prince ought to keep more preciously than his respect, his majesty, and his fear: which being once lost, can never be recovered, but only by such things as breed fear, that is to say, by violence and cruelty. Mighty king, thou shalt accept this speech as it shall please thee: it belongeth not to me to limit thy purposes. But if thou readest it with as much passion for thine own good, as I writ it, thou shalt think, if any too violent a word doth escape me, yea against thee, that it is the very indignation and heart burning that forceth me unto it, when I see the wrong and injuries that are done unto thee: to the which it seemeth after a manner, thou dost consent by thy patience. Do not think that I did mean to accuse the courage which is in thyself: all Europe would give me the lie: and if thou wouldst have any witnesses of it, thou shouldest need none but ourselves (whom thou hast beaten so often) to speak of it. verily believe, that the grief which I conceive to see thee suffer through evil counsel, those bold parts which are only attempted upon confidence that thou wilt suffer them, do wrest this both out of my heart and my pen. I know that all those which are about thee, have hither to betrayed thee: that that which thou hast done against thyself, thou hast done it by taking that counsel, where by contrariwise other princes do most commonly err, that is, by believing of counsel. I was present when it was told thee, that all thy towns, all thy people, all thy provinces were already the duke of Guizes, all thy men were his. They told thee it, but none other than themselves that told thee it, were belonging unto him: and tkey did tell thee it to no other end, but only to sell thee, and betray thee unto him. The strongest armies of the league which are against thee, have been in thy court, in thy counsel, in thy privy chamber. So that it was very hard but that thou shouldest be hindered by so many things contrary to thy good purposes. But seeing that God in this last danger where into he had brought thee, hath taken away all excuse, & occasion of doubt, let this at the least give thee a mind to love thine own self more than thou hast done: to will earnestly thy own good, thy rest, thy highness: and when thou shalt wish it, thou shalt by consequent, wish thy realms withal.  
I will end in thee, thou firebrand of the war, which hast turned to the destruction of thy king and country, those great graces which God had given thee, for to have been able to have done worthy service as well to the one, as the other. Dost thou not think to be punished one day for the parricide which thou committest against thine own mother, for so many evils that thou art cause of, or which thou dost thyself to her, who hath done thee so much good? so many evils I say, the which thou mightest have remedied, either by desiring less, or by desiring more wisely, or at least, by bringing in thy desires at length into some compass? Nay, nay: thou needest no other punishment than thine own practices. They are thy torment. Poor soul, thou art almost forty years old, & yet darest thou not take upon thee the name of a king: when wilt thou bring it to pass? Thinkest thou to make easily an end of those which can bar thee from thy vain hope? For these thirty years, men have lost their labour in making war against them. I will abate thee ten upon the bargain, thou hast yet twenty left. What a king art thou like to be at those years end, being 60. years old? Thou hast been heard scoffing at the cardinal of Bourbon, whom thou hadst persuaded to have been one at that age: scarce wilt thou come sooner to it, & yet must many things come well to pass for ●hee. Thou wilt overthrow the king of Navarre (a vain labour, I am sure both for thee and thy children) dream rather to save thyself from him: his claws are greater than thine: but I grant it, thou shalt overthrow him: and it were so, how wilt thou do to reign? If after his overthrow France lieth open to the spoil, as it can hardly choose: art thou stronger than the king of Spain? hast thou more right than he hath? More than the Duke of Savoy, who is son unto a daughter of France, and nearer of blood than thou, & is married also unto a daughter's daughter of France? More than the Duke of Lorraines son thine elder, the son likewise of a daughter of France, and the king's Nephew. If contrariwise the estate be kept whole and found, how wilt thou lawfully take away the right from the Catholic Princes of the blood which shallbe remaining, who are yet in number enough, and young enough to live as long as thou, except thou shortnest their lives? Moreover, before all this cometh to pass, who can persuade thee, that the king who reigneth now, will not keep thee from reigning? thou canst not so long as he shall live: thy first blows must begin with him (that canst thou do well enough) thou must make him away: for he hindereth thee ten thousand times more than the king of Navarre: and except this be thy first intent, thou hast no judgement in thy practices. For thou canst not possibly, whilst he is alive, be a king, neither continue long so, in taking the course that thou doest: but thou purposest to reign. What then poor wretch, except this be it that driveth thee on? except some great and mighty ambition doth puff up thy mind, such a one as sometimes possessed either Marius, Sylla, or Caesar, thou shouldest be accursed enough hereafter, for having wrought so much mischief in the world to no end. Ambition is the plague of humane society: notwithstanding, it hath always most gloriously set forth by many and worthy deeds all such as have been possessed with all. Let us blame ambitious men, yet do we admire them. If thou canst bear so worthy a mind, as to look for a kingdom, there will be found hereafter some body that will say, that thou wert worthy to have been borne a king, sith thou couldst undertake to have been one. Such mischiefs and calamities as thou must needs breed, to bring it to pass, shall not be peradventure imputed unto thee: but it shall be said, that fortune would by these means make thy coming notorious, that thou wert too great to come forth by an ordinary gate, and that thou must needs have ruins to receive the and make thee room. Nec aliam venturo fata Ner●ni invenere viam. Thou shalt also be found fault withal: but many that shall find fault with thee will wish to be like unto thee: otherwise thou wretch, if upon a villainous mind thou hast no other end of the evil which thou dost, then to hinder the benefit and quietness of all the world; what will our posterity say of thee? who amongst them will not call thee the scourge of our age? But seeing thou canst not be king, thou hast no mind to be it: it is enough for thee to trouble and divide our estate, to the end thou mayst keep the better part for thyself. Thou showest thyself yet more wretched. Had not God endued thee with sufficient virtue for to deserve an honourable portion at their hands, to whom all by right doth belong, who would have been always so glad to have thee about them as their kinsman, as thou art: and in steed of a good and profitable servant as thou mightest have been? Hadst thou not rather have been beholding to thy Prince for thy good, in bestowing thy service upon thy country, then to a foreign Prince in overthrowing it quite? Mark what thou dost: thy father, and thy grandfather have allotted unto the king of Spain, his part in Italy: and thou wouldst allot him it in France: Sic ne patrissas? Yet is not this all? What then? The only zeal unto the catholic religion doth kindle thy heart? Thou sayest it (I believe) in the face of the world, not in thy Closet: nay I am afraid, except thou usest shortly other manner of terms, lest thou repentest to have driven thy king out of Paris. He is not an heretic, no● but he is a king. Whosoever shall be it, either in deed, or possibility, he is thine enemy. Thou wilt make it known at length, that it is only for that that thou meddlest with the king of Navarre, and that thou art more jealous over his possibility then his conscience: I believe it well. And if so be it were that he would suffer thee to be king, thou wouldst easily grant him to be a Hugnonet. It is thy zeal unto religion: good Lord! What, to increase it? There are yet so many Turks and Sarrasins alive which keep from thee thy kingdom of jerusalem, belonging by inheritance to thy house: why dost thou not rather bend thy practices that way, then upon the realm of France? To defend it? Tush, who dealeth with it? who durst say any thing against the Catholics? My opinion then is, that thou shouldest persuade us that the wolves ought to take heed lest the sheep might surprise them, that Lions were best to mistrust the Dear. Thou sayest the very same. Where there is one of the religion in France, there are a hundred Catholics. If the king of Navarre should take that course, as to persecute them during the king's life, he should be evil handled: if after he should be worse received. Nay, allege not these excuses: men laugh at them. Say only that thou wouldst reign, thou wouldst be king: it is the truest and the best colour of thy Ensign.  
I will conclude at length, and in two or three words answer those Letters which thou hast spread abroad. Thou publishest first that thou wert the only man that didst set forward the voyage of Guyenne, (Id est, against the king of Navarre) to the which thou hast such a mind. But what needest thou to stir up an other? Why goest not thou thyself? Seek out there either a victory or an honourable death, as the Duke of joyeuse did. Make offer unto the king to go in thine own person. He will take thee at thy word: carry thither all thy friends, all thy forces, he will increase them with his own. Carry thither the fire of war, seeing it is there that thou shouldest find thine enemies, and thou shalt find them in deed. Why dost thou kindle it in Pycardis? is there any heretics also there? I would to God that Caliis and Bulloine were as well minded towards the king of Navarre, as thou chargest them to be: thou shouldest be kept well enough from quarreling at Paris. Thou shouldest have leisure enough to enclose thyself within Challons, and think upon nothing else but thine own defence. This is the matter. Thou wouldst that the king should leave in thy hands the protection of France, and that he should go and make war in thy quarrel in Gehenne, that he should overthrow thine enemy the king of Navarre, that he should give order unto thy affairs, to the end, that whilst he should there busy himself about the beating of some sconce, thou mightest here take some good town from him: and upon condition, that whensoever he would return, he should give thee room, as often as it should please thee. I grant thee it: it is well and wisely considered of thee: but yet is he wiser than thou art, in that he will not do so. Thou sayest that the Duke of Espernon favoureth the Heretics: all those that bar thee from being king are Heretics, according unto thy reckoning: or at least, they favour them. There will be then enough in the world, if God will. Think this to be most sure, that if that man would have had but the least intelligence of the world with the King of Navarre, if he had put into his hands even the least of those towns which he had in his power, or helped him never so little with that commodity of money that he might have had, there had not been room enough in France to have hidden thee: thou shouldest have been undone already, I say quite undone. Give him thanks for thy preservation, which his fidelity hath purchased thee, to his own cost and his masters. He is come, sayest thou, to seek quarrels in Pycardi●, and in Normandy. What part hast thou in these two Provinces? Of the one, my late lord the Prince of Conde was governor: in his absence, there were Lieutenants from the king: of the other, the Duke of joyeuse was the like. Neither thou, nor any of thy kindred have any right unto it.  
But soft, I must needs excuse thee: thou wouldst reign: all is lawful for thee. Thou doest complain moreover, that there have been slanders spread abroad against thee, and thine honour, the which (thanks be to God) thou hast blotted out by this latter fact of thine. Thou art a marvelous Orator: surely it is true, thou hast well cleared thyself. Thou wert accused to have stirred up the people of certain towns of this Realm, against such governors as the king would have appointed. Thou hast taken this slander away, in raising up them of Paris against the king himself. Thou wert blamed to have seized upon his money at Challons, at Rheymes, at Soyssons, and every where that thou setst thy foot. Thou hast purged thyself in taking that of his own store in his chief town. Thou wert suspected to have certain enterprises against the state, and to aspire unto the crown, & that to that purpose thou hadst already seized on some good towns, which either thou or thy parents did hold, to the which the king would not have obeyed. Thou hast put away this false report by thy personal coming to make thyself master of Paris, and driving out of the king, after thou hadst forced, killed, and unarmed his guard, and caused the common people to rise in arms against him. So that after this sort thou gallantly wipest away a theft with a sacrilege: a murder with a parricide: a sin with a crime. Thy subtlety is too gross. Thou triumphest, that thou durst come with eight Gentlemen into Paris, a token of thy pure innocency. These be great news. Be thou in Rochel with all thy new court, all thy train, and all thy guard: the king of Navarre will come in with four men, and if going away thou dost not fly, he will trouble thee. This is easy to be said in Britain: but those that know that all the kings council stand for thee, that his mother favoureth thee, that all the pickquarrels, all the porters of Paris, and all the common people are at thy beck: they will say that thy simplicity was very crafty, thy innocency much suspected. How wilt thou have us to believe that thou hast trusted so gently unto the king, seeing that after the League was made, when you made your worthy agreement at S. Mor, thou wouldst never come to him before that thou wert as strong as he, seeing that whilst he hath been in his army against the Reyters, thou never hast set thy foot towards him, saving once when thou didst surprise him, and that but a quarter of an hour. Nay, believe me: it is thy occupation to work such fears, but not to excuse them: thou canst better do the one than the other. It is plain enough, seeing thou vauntest thyself, that thou mightest have retained thy king, against his will. Ah, what sayest thou, thou stranger? retain a king of France? It is all that Europe being confederated were able to do: it is the enterprise of an Emperor, yet a very dangerous one. If thy Grandfather had thought, that thou wouldst ever have pronounced these words, he would have smothered up thy father, to let thee from coming into the world: in a peaceable estate, in a quiet realm, that word only would have cost thee thy head. That is likewise the reason why thou troublest it.  
As for the rest of thy public letter, all the words of it are too plain, too well set down to be found fault withal. Whilst thou makest a discourse of thy valour, they show what is thine intent better than any man can do. I will only note the end of it, where thou sayest, that thou hast seized upon the Bastille, the Arsenal, and other public places, the kings Coffers and Exchequer, to surrender all again into his majesties hands well pacified, as thou hopest to bring to pass by the Pope's intercession, and other the Princes of Christendom: if not, with the same helps thou wilt try to rescue the Catholics out from the persecution of those that are about him, and favour the heretics. What a brave dilemma is this. I believe, thou meanest not by pacified, peaceable or appeased, but in such state as that he be not able to make war against thee: which thou hopest to procure by the forces and helps of Spain, and Italy: that is the intercession which thou meanest. And in fine, thou mean and simple subject denouncest war against thy king. Others endure it, thou beginnest it. If the late Emperor had but said so much to his father, all Christendom would have been up in arms, both of one side, and other, upon this word. If God also stir up his heart, I hope it will be thy last.  

A declaration of the kings pleasure, published after his departure from Paris: importing the cause of his sudden and forced going away.  
Trusty and well-beloved. Being in our town of Paris, where we bent our only cogitations to no other thing but the appeasing of all sorts of jealousies and disturbances in Pycardie & else where, which hindered our journey into our country of P●ictou, there to prosecute the wars enterprised against the Huguenots, according as we had resolved; our cozen the Duke of Guise, unwares to us, did there arrive the 9 of this month. His coming after that sort so increased the said jealousies & distrusts, that we were much troubled therewith: the rather for that before we had from divers places been advertised, that he should come in such manner: also, that he was looked for, by sundry the inhabitants of the same town, who were suspected to be the authors of the said distrusts, besides that ourself had before for the same cause given him to understand, that we were nothing desirous of his coming before we had appeased the aforesaid troubles of Picardy, & quite taken away the causes of the same. Considering nevertheless, that he came accompanied only with 14. or 15. horses, we were content to see him, and that the rather to the end to endeavour so to deal with him, that all occasions of controversy and distrust might be extinguished: wherein seeing how smally we profited, as also that our said town grew daily more and more replenished with gentlemen and strangers, retainers to the said Duke's train: also that such searches, as we caused the magistrates and officers thereof to make, were through the fear wherinto they were driven, performed to halves: likewise, that the hearts and affections of sundry the inhabitants were daily provoked, and more and more alienated: together with the ordinary advertisements whereby we were from time to time informed of some great troubles to fall out in the same town, we determined to cause the said searches to be more exactly performed throughout all the quarters thereof than the former: to the end thereby to discover & truly find out the state of the same: also to avoid such strangers as should be found not to be avowed as they ought. For the performance whereof we thought it good to strengthen certain the bodies of the guards of the inhabitants & burgesses of the same town whom we had appointed to be planted in 4. or 5. corners thereof, with the companies of Zuitzers, and such as were of the regiments of our guard: who before were lodged in the suburbs: also to command divers the lords of the council & knights of our order of the holy ghost, to march along the streets and quarters thereof accompanied with the quarter masters & others the officers of the said town, such as have been usually accustomed to make the said searches, to the end by their countenance to authorize & assist them in the same, as hath sundry times been practised. Whereof also we gave notice to the said Duke, & all the inhabitants of the said town, lest any thereof should take allarome, or any whit doubt of our intent in this point: which order at the beginning the burgesses and dwellers seemed to take quietly and in good part: howbeit within a while after matters grew so hot, & that the rather through the induction of divers who wandering up & down informed the said inhabitants that we had not brought in the said forces for any other end, but only to establish foreign gartisons within the town aforesaid, yea, and to deal worse than so: whereby in short space they had so animated & stirred them up, that if we had not expressly forbidden the leaders of our troops from attempting any thing against the said inhabitants, & withal commanded them rather to bear and endure all extremities then to offer any violence, we do undoubtedly believe that it had been unpossible to eschew the general sack of the town, & much bloodshed. This when we perceived, we determined to cease the execution of the searches aforesaid, also to cause our forces to retire, whom we had not brought in, but upon that only occasion: as also it was no other like, but that if we had meant otherwise we would have attempted, yea, & peradventure put in execution whatsoever our purposes, before the rising of the said inhabitants either that they had drawn their chains or erected their defences in the streets, which immediately after noon they went in hand withal, and in a manner in one instant throughout all the streets of Paris, being thereto induced and persuaded by sundry gentlemen, Captains, & other strangers sent in by the said duke of Guise, who to the same end, in very short space appeared, divided and arranged throughout every quarter of the town. Hereupon causing the said Swissers and french companies, to return, the said inhabitants to our great grief discharged diverse arqebus shot, and dealt some blows which light chiefly upon the said Swissers, whom the same evening we commanded to retire & lodge about our Castle of the Louvre, there to expect the event of this commotion of the said townsmen: for the appeasing whereof, we did all that possibly we could, yea so far forth, as the next day to procure all the said companies, except such as before their coming in, we had placed in guard before our said castle, to departed the town, as being informed that in so doing, we might greatly content & pacify the said inhabitants: as also we caused to stay some remainder of the companies of foot men of the regiment of Picardy, albeit they were 7. or 8. leagues off, together with divers lords and gentlemen our servants that drew unto us: as considering that the same had bred some shadow to this people, also that they took hold of this pretence, whereby the more to provoke and stir than up. All this notwithstanding, in am of finding our wished effect to their own benefit & our contentation, they nevertheless still proceeded in raising their bulwarks, strengthening their guard night & day, & approaching the same toward our said Castle of the Louvre, even to the very sentinels of our ordinary guard, as also they seized upon the townhouse of the same town, together with the keys of S. Amthonies' gate & other the gates thereof: so that by the 13. of this month, matters were run so far, that it seemed unpossible by man's power to stop the effect of greater violence & commotion, even before our said castle gates. This when we perceived, and being nevertheless unwilling to employ our said forces against the said inhabitants, as having evermore held the preservation of the said town with the inhabitants thereof, as dear as our own life, as in sundry their occasions they have well tried, & is evident to all men, we determined the same day to departed, and rather to absent ourselves, & abandon the place which above all the world we most loved, and so do still desire to do, then to see it incur further hazard, or receive greater damage: having withal entreated our most honourable Lady & mother to stay, & try whether she might through her discretion & authority in our absence be able to find any means, how to appease the said tumult, which notwithstanding, whatsoever her endeavours, she could not in our presence perform, and so are come into this our town of Chartres, from whence we thought good immediately to send you these presents, therein desiring you to consider of the consequence of this cause, how prejudicial and hurtful it will be, in case it go forward, unto the common cause, especially to our holy catholic, apostolic and/ romish religion, sith that they who were wont to fight together for the propagation thereof, shall through this accident (if it be not remedied) be disvnited & forced to turn their weapons each against other: to eschew the falling whereinto we pray you to believe, that for our parts we will do whatsoever possibly we may: of such force is the zeal that we bear unto our said religion, as hitherto we have sufficiently caused to appear. We also, so much as in us lieth, exhort and pray you, to procure supplications unto God in your churches for this reunion, as also for the obedience unto us due, to be observed according as is meet, and not to suffer the inhabitants of our town of M. to departed the right paths thereof: but to admonish and persuade them to remain quiet and constant in their loyalties to their king: and in union and concord one with an other, so to maintain and preserve themselves under our obedience, and not to incur the discommodities for them provided, if they take any other course. Thus besides that you shall perform an action worthy your discretions, fidelities and duties, which may be a notable example to all subjects, we shall yield you thanks for ever, and acknowledge it to you and yours.  
Given at Chartres. May. 1588.   

The copy of a Letter written by the duke of Guise unto the king, the xvii, day of May.  
SIr, such is my mishap, that they which of long time have by sundry sleights sought to estrange me from your presence and favour, have been of power sufficient to make whatsoever the good endeavours that I have put in practice, for to come near you, and by my services to grow into your majesties liking, utterly unprofitable. Whereof of late days (to my great grief) I have had more trial than ever before. For being wearied with so many false bruits and slanders wherewith they have used to keep your majesty in mistrust of me, I thought it good, even with the hazard of that with which I was threatened, to justify my life, being (to that end resolved) to come unto you with so small company and so great confidence & franchise, as I hoped thereby to show, and that to every man, that I was far off from that wherewith my evil willers so subtly sought to bring me into suspicion: but the enemies of the common peace and mine, not being able to abide my presence about you, as imagining that the same would in few days discover the subtleties which they practised to bring me into hatred, and fearing least by little and little I should recover your favour, they chose rather by their pernicious counsels to bring again all things into confusion, and to bring both your state and your town of Paris into hazard, then to suffer me to be about you. Their bad minds have manifestly been descried in the resolution, which without the Queen your mother's knowledge, and the advise of your wisest Counsellors, they have caused your majesty to take: that is, by an unusual way, and in time full of suspicion and partiality, to bring in forces into your town of Paris, and to seize upon the public places thereof: yea, the common speech is, that they hoped, having once become masters thereof, to be able to induce you to many things far from your nature, which also I had rather pass over in silence. The terror hereof, sir, hath forced your good and faithful subjects to arm themselves, through a just fear, least by this means the things whereof long before they were threatened might be put in execution. But God of his holy grace contained matters in better stay than man could hope, and as it were miraculously preserved your town out of a most perilous hazard. The beginning, course and event of this matter hath so justified my intents, that I suppose your Majesty and all the world doth thereby clearly perceive how far my behaviours have differed from those practices, whereof my slanderers do seek to make me guilty. The manner how I did voluntarily habandon myself into your power, do show what confidence I reposed in your goodness, and the sincerity of my conscience. The state wherein I was found when I first understood of this enterprise (which many of your servants can testify) do sufficiently show that I stood in no doubt of being hurt, neither had any mind to enterprise, as remaining more solitary and unarmed in my house, than one of my calling either may or aught to do. The respect that I have used, containing myself within the simple bounds of a just defence, may sufficiently testify unto you, that no occasion whatsoever, is able to make me fall from the duty of a most humble subject. The pains that I took to restrain the people, and keep them from proceeding to those effects which such accidents do for the most part bring in, do discharge me from the slanders heretofore laid upon me. viz. That I was want to trouble your town of Paris, My care to preserve even those whom I know to have played some bad parts against me about you, by the provocation of my enemies, do manifestly declare to every man that I never intended to attempt any thing against your servants and officers, as they have falsely accused me. My behaviours toward your Suitzers, their captains, and the soldiers of your guard do sufficiently assure you, that I never feared any thing so much, as to displease you. If your majesty have known of all these particularities (as I imagine, that sundry your good servants, lovers of public quietness, who are witnesses of the same, have not concealed them from you) I do assuredly think that you are thereby persuaded that I never had, even the least of those bad meanings whereof my enemies through false reports have sought to bring me into hatred: and I hope sir, that the end will yield more assured testimony thereof, as having conceived one of the greatest griefs that could happen me, when I heard that your majesty was resolved to departed: because your so sudden going away took from me all means of being able, according to my purpose, to accommodate every thing to your contentation: whereto I did already see them disposed at such time as it pleased the Q. your mother to come hither, whereof I gave her such testimonies as I account she cannot but think to be certain. Howbeit sith I then could not, yet will I sir still continue the same mind, and hope so to bear myself, that your majesty shall judge me to be a most faithful subject and servant, who desireth nothing so much, as by well doing and procuring the benefit of your realm to obtain the good hap of your favour, which I will never cease seeking until God hath given me the means: whom I beseech, sir, to grant unto your Majesty, etc.  
From Paris the 17. of May. 1588.   

An extract out of other letters written by the said L. duke of Guise.  
WE had enough to do to strengthen ourselves against the sleights daily framed against us, whereby to seek some colour not to pass into Guyenne against the heretics: we went to satisfy the king about his garrisons in Picardy, and albeit this regiment had not taken the countercourse, but to refresh ancient enmities, and to seek new contritions, yet did we force our friends for one month, unprofitably to suffer the forces of Espernon over their heads, when afresh for the greater hindrance, the said Espernon went to seek some brawl in Normandy, and there had he found it very hot, had not we, upon a desire to see the war against the heretics proceed, husbanded his affairs and procured our friends to refrain, and not to hinder, or in any wise to molest him. All this notwithstanding, the more to entangle us as well through these superfluous garrisons and lost journeys, as also for the utter breaking of the course of this war, and turning it against us, they framed us a match to our honour, spreading abroad divers rumours, whereby to cause us to be more feared than the heretics themselves: as that we delighted in a massacre at Paris: That we purposed to seize upon the king's person: That we meant to sack the town, and so to levy coin wherewith to make war against whom we list, with many other like impressions which they beat into his majesties head with the best colours that they could, so to make them the more receivable. This was their last sleight, which also drive us into greatest despair, considering that the king went about rather to provide for these mistrustes then to continue the war against the heretics: also that our wretchedness was such, as among some to be so accounted of, yea so far forth, as even his holiness thereupon took an argument, by a writing of his, to exhort us to fidelity toward the king our sovereign. This despair, I say, at the last impression thereof took sure hold of men, when I understood that his majesty strengthened his guard with four ensigns of Frenchmen, and three of Switzers, so that to the end not to remain so much as one hour in suspicion of so villainous actions, I came about twelve of the clock into Paris, accompanied with eight gentlemen, and through the midst of all the guards aforesaid, I passed to kiss his majesties hands, carrying with me no other safe conduct then my services, together with the confidence that every good subject aught to repose in his king. This franchise, sincerity and open heart, should, as I thought, have brought me a clear justification from all these passed false reports. And in truth there was no honest man but was glad in his mind, as every one might manifestly perceive. The next day, being still in my conscience assured, I was all the day about the king, sometime enclosed in the Tuilleries, discoursing of the voyage into Guienne, & of this war, whereto I was so affectionate. In these days, as it is to be presumed, the king took informations from all parts, whither I had any greater train than the same that was seen at my coming: Then knowing, as the truth was, that I was thus alone, and had not so much as one man of war within forty leagues of me, see, the very next morning the twelfth of May, there entered by day twelve ensigns of Switzers and eight ensigns of French footmen at S. honours gate, besides the four of the guard, the king & all his court being on horseback to receive them. The master of the camp of the regiment of the guards, and the Switzers Colonels were commanded to go & seize upon all the strengths of Paris, and lest they should find any let, the inhabitants were from the one end of the town distributed clean contrary to their quarters, so to breed them a desire to break off themselves through the care of abandoning their wives & children in such an accident. While these things were thus ordered, I being a sleep in my lodging with so small a company (for my train, was not yet come from Soissons) as God would, while they were distributing their forces into so many places, I had leisure to be advertised thereof, and sundry Gentlemen my friends, being at Paris about their affairs, came unto me: but especially God miraculously stirred up all the people with one consent to run to arms, and without any conference together, being assured of my presence, and through some order which suddenly I took among them, of themselves they went about to accommodate their affairs, & on every side to fortify themselves within ten paces of the foreign power, and that with such readiness and vehemency, that in less than two hours they warned the said troops presently to retire out of the town and suburbs. Hereupon also about the same time it chanced in some quarter a Swisser to wound a townsman, whereupon the townsmen fell upon the Swissers that were there, of whom they slew some twelve or fifteen, wounded some twenty or five and twenty, and unarmed the rest. In an other place some companies of the kings guards were also unarmed & cast into the houses, where with their Captains they were forced to shut up themselves. Here upon I marched through the town, and at my first coming, delivered nine hundred Swissers prisoners, and sundry of the soldiers of the guard, whom I caused to be safely conveyed to the Louvre. This day (all things shining with the infallible protection of God) being come to an end, I went through all the streets until two hours after midnight, praying, entreating and threatening the people, so that through God's grace there ensued neither murder, massacre, pilfery, or loss of one penny, or of any one drop of blood over and above the aforesaid, albeit the people were extremely envenomed, as knowing (said they) that there were twenty gibbets ready together with sundry schaffalds, and that they had seen the executioners of high justice ready to put to death a hundred or six score persons, whom they named, and I had rather you should imagine than I writ down. I can not conceal the great contentation that this wonderful grace of God bred in me. First, for that I see my hand so clearly freed from these suspicions of sack and massacre which they had endeavoured to persuade so many good men of: for sith I was able to perform it and yet so happily kept it from being known, I thereby stopped all my enemies mouths. Secondly, because I gave sufficient proof of my zeal to my king's service, and how in that I procured the delivery even of the weapons which had been borne against myself, together with their mischiefs and drums, the reconducting of the prisoners, the returning of their ensigns, and the delivery of the besieged, & so declined in no jot from the due respect in matter where the most constant might have lost it. Then laboured they so much that they persuaded the king to departed, four and twenty hours after that I might (if I had list) have stayed him, but God forbidden that I should so much as have dreamt thereof. Since his departure his Majesty hath had some other counsel and bitterness. I took into my hands the Arsenal, the Bastile and other the strong places, and procured the coffers of his exchequer to be sealed up, to the end to consign the whole into his majesties hands when he shall be at peace, as we hope to yield him through our prayers to God, and the intercession of his holiness and all Christian Princes, and in respect of this notable and not common proof of fidelity which it hath pleased him to commit into my hands. Otherwise, if this mischief continue, I hope by the same means to preserve both the religion and the Catholics, and to set them free from the persecution which the heretics confederates that are about the king did prepare for them.   
FINIS.