THE HEROYK LIFE And DEPLORABLE DEATH Of The most Christian King HENRY the fourth.  
Addressed to his Immortal Memory; By PEA: MATHIEV, Counsellor and Historiographer of France.  
TRANSLATED By Ed: Grimeston, Esquire.  
LONDON Printed by GEORGE ELD▪ 1612.   

TO THE RIGHT Honourable the Lord Viscont Cranborn.  
MY good Lord: I have presumed to offer this discourse unto your view, not for that you understand it not in the Original, or to instruct your knowledge, the French tongue being familiar unto you, and the subject, with all the Circumstances, as well known as to any; but to make you Censor of the work, and of the Author's integrity, having remained in that Court, and received favours from that great King, living in the height of worldly felicity, and with all been an eye witness of that sad and mournful spectacle, and of the general consternation of the French, lamenting the Tragical and sudden death of their King, to their ir-reparable loss.  
This work may happily seem to some unseasonable, when as his death is in a manner forgotten, there having also been so many Pamphlets, and petty discourses published of that subject. But as my Author's excuse is, That time can prescribe no bounds to their sorrow, nor reason moderate their grief, which renews with time, and therefore never unseasonable to lament so great a loss. So I finding it written by an eloquent Pen, and by his own Historiographer, who attended on him daily, to record both his words and Actions, and who both could and hath written many particularities upon this Accident, which were unknown to others, have thought it as worthy the knowledge of our Nation as any of the rest, and I hope will give the Reader more content.  
I have presumed to make your Lordship Patron of my labour, both for that you can judge if there be any thing defective, and in respect of my own private obligation, having received many favours from your Lordship during my abode in France, with that hopeful Gentleman Master Henry Howard: Vouchsafe it my good Lord your countenance, and accept it as a poor testimony of his thankfulness, who is and will be  
Always ready to do you service: Ed: Grimeston.   

The Author to the Queen Regent.  
MAdam this work is dedicated to the public weal, whether all Histories go; to the King's service, whereat all affections should aim; to the immortal reputation of Henry the Great, whether all my thoughts shall tend, and presenting it to your Majesty as to the Governess of the realm, to the mother of my king, to the widow of my master, I discharge myself of that which I own to the Instruction of Posterity, to the glory of the Son, to the memory of the Father, and to the honour of your commandments. I am sorry that it could not add the praise of diligence to the merit of my obedience, but his slackness makes it not unseasonable; the subject is Immortal, the world will never cease to admire so glorious a life, nor to lament so tragical and sudden a death. This fatal day of the 14. of May, which should have been the period of your mourning, hath been the renewing of it, and hath revived your sorrows with such passion as the spirits could hardly be stayed from following your tears. Our griefs shall never be so old, but they shall still found new causes to lament. It is true (Madam) that they are much eased by the happy effects of your regency which hath preserved those that held themselves lost, hath maintained the laws of the state, raised up the subjects hope, let the world see that in a Queen's heart you carry the courage of a King, and that Italy hath brought forth a Blanch to Lewis the 13. as Spain did to Lewis the 9 you make that great Prince to live again, for whose departure the Earth weeps, and Heaven rejoiceth at his return, he reigns in the King his son, he triumphs in the restoration of France and in the renown of his virtues, which lives in you Madam, he breathes in your sighs, he is reverenced in your authority, he hath left you the force of his judgement, the respects of his majesty, the felicity of his reign, the wills of all his subjects, whereof you dispose in such sort as it seems the time present hath no cause to fear the future, nor to grieve for that is past.  
P. Mathieu.   

 

THis was that Man of Men, whose Cradle sprung  
With Happy Laurels (that to Heaven aspired)  
Whose Youth with Worth of all the Worthies rung,  
Whose Aged Glories all the World admired:  
His Country's Father; Others Arbitrer:  
The Mercury of Peace, the Mars of War.   

This Prince of Prowess and of Policy,  
Arming to aid the Rightful Heir of Cleve,  
Stepmother Rome (Mother of Treachery)  
Did of his Life with bloody Knife bereave;  
Stepmother Rome; well may we call thee so,  
That now hast killed two Sons, two Kings a-row.    

THE Deplorable death of Henry the fourth, the French King.  
IF PEACE MAKE Kingdoms and Estates happy, France, which hath enjoyed it twelve years under the shadow of her King's palm and lawrell-branches, may say, that heaven could add nothing to her felicity but Constancy, which is more desired then enjoyed in humane affairs. The seeds of division are rooted out, distrust doth no more trouble men's minds, there is no cause of factions and alterations, and private miseries are covered with public prosperities.  
Never Prince was more beloved nor better obeyed at home, none more re-doubted nor admired abroad. The Princes of Christendom seek and respect his alliance, he governs the courages of the greatest, and the wills of the meanest at his pleasure: his affairs are freed from the injuries of necessity or confusion. He hath seen treasons against his Estate, as soon prevented as conceived, these furious torrents are crept into the earth, which they would have swallowed up: he demands nothing from heaven but he obtains it: his neighbours dare not refuse him any thing. What fears he? and of whom is he not feared?  
In the midst of these contents, he prepares a mighty army, the which the first day seems to promise' victory, and to sing the triumph: every man desires to understand whether it goes, his friends grow jealous, and his enemies tremble. They see the sword drawn, which threatens to have reason of them that will not do it, but no man knows to whom it speaks; force and valour are ready to charge, but we see no enemy; there is no peace broken, no war proclaimed.  
The restitution of juliers, the liberty of Germany, the new alliance with the duke of Savoy, were the apparent causes of this arming, few men knew his secret intentions. If it be lawful to judge of the greatness of a design by the preparation, we must of force say that France could not but hope for great & glorious effects, and that having not of long time made a greater preparation, he had not attempted any thing of greater moment.  
The Arsenal of Paris had within 25. years seen four great provisions, but this last was mightier & more than any of the rest: the Duke of Suylly did show by demonstration, that the first of this equipage should be at Chalons, when as the last should go out of Saint Martin's suburbs at Paris. The bravest resolutions came as to an Accademie of valour and virtue. The Princes of Germany brought both their swords and hopes. Count Maurice, who hath ever commanded, came thither to obey, and the King without doubt did add unto those glorious titles of Restorer of France, and Protector of the quiet of Christendom, that of Arbitrator of the Empire.  
The Rendezvous for the Army was in Champagne; the Duke of Nevers, as Governor of the Province, and supplying the place of Colonel of the light horse of France, commanding it: It was fortified with 6000. Swisses, well appointed and well armed, of the which the Duke of Rohan was Colonel; The King's arrival might have augmented it with 4000 gentlemen, and the regiment of his guards. It struck such a terror and amazement into his neighbours, as these words were publicly spoken at Colen. It were a madness to think to resist a Prince which hath these great qualities, of Valiant, Powerful and Fortunate. Many doubted that it would trouble the peace of Christendom, and that the succours which he had promised to a Protestant Prince, would be a scandal to religion. The King told the Pope's Nuncio, That he informed himself only, whether they that demanded succours were his firm friends, and if their cause were just, as for Religion it should be no way wronged. Time, and the Capitulation of juliers have verified this promise.  
The indiscreet and burning zeal of many, transported men's minds with these strange apprehensions. He told one of the bad offices which his enemies did him in blemishing the integrity of his thoughts towards Religion, and withdrawing the fidelity of his subjects from his service. Having used great words upon this subject, which would be as orient Pearls in his History, if he had not forbidden them to be published; he ended with these words. The first thing whereof I have spoken, is for the assurance of the Catholic religion in the country of Cleves. I will never endure, that it complain neither of my armies, nor of my intentions. I told the Duke of Suylly the other day that if all the Princes of Germany were resolved to make a protestant Emperor, I would hinder it.  
He had a great desire to see his army, and nothing stayed him but the Queen's Coronation, the only action which wanted in the prosperities of peace, and the wishes of France. This duty had been neglected ten years, by them that should do it, and by her that should receive it. France, thinking she could perform nothing equal to the merits of this Princess, confessed, that disability made her unthankful: The Queen had her spirits glutted with so many other sorts of content; her Piety entertained her so sweetly with the hope of crowns which are given in heaven, as she cared not for any earthly one, although her courage thought itself wronged, to be exempted from an honour which had been common to the Queens of France.  
That which other Kings had given unto them by way of ceremony, this King was bound to yield unto her, who did crown all the graces which he received from heaven, and did eternize the Flowers de Luz in her Royal posterity: He granted it sooner than she made show to desire it, and presently commanded the City of Paris to think upon the honours which were done unto him at his entry presently after his Coronation. They set 800. men on work about the preparation of this pomp, they employed many excellent wits, to give life unto their statues and marble: If the triumph had been ended, Europe had not seen any thing to equal it. And to judge of the whole by a part, the cloth of gold & silver which was distributed came to a hundred and fifty thousand crowns. It seemed they had gathered together all the Pearl of the Indieses, and all the treasures of Asia upon this occasion; but as designs, priest forward with diverse passions, work powerfully in the minds of men, the King languishing on the one side with a desire to go unto his Army, and not willing to part before the Queen's Coronation, it held his will and affection in suspense.  
It was propounded to defer this ceremony until September; Sanguine, a councillor of the court of Parliament, and Provost of Merchants at Paris, gave him to understand, that this delay would make the charge unprofitable, and that what was done would no more serve, if it stood long exposed to the air. Whereupon the King said to the Duke of Guise, That he lamented the time which was lost in this expectation: Nothing is performed with diligence in their opinions which desire and attend. The Duke of Guise seeming to have no other ambition, than not to be last that came unto the feast, said that he did languish until he were in the Army, that he would serve him better there then at the Queen's Coronation; that he was the meanest Captain, but the best soldier of his realm.  
On the Monday, the King was hunting at Saint German, and disposing of the days which he meant to spend at Paris, he said: 
King disposeth of the time.  On twesday I will go, and lie at Saint Denis on wednesday; thursday I will return: on Friday I will dispose of my affairs; Saturday I will run; on Sunday shall be my wives entry; Monday the marriage of my daughter of Vendosme; Tuesday the feast, and Wednesday to horse. And although he knew well, both by the reasons of his judgement, and by those of his belief, that the time past was no more his, and that of the present he had but an instant, yet his thoughts and cogitations extended to future things, saying, that He prepared work for Me to augment his History: and being on the Twesday at mass, the Dauphin delivering him a Crown for his offering, he said unto the Marshal of Feruaques, and to Saint Geran, Governor of Bourbonois. My Son doth now carry a Crown, I hope within six years he will carry a sword after me.  
He was much troubled to resolve all difficulties touching the ranks, 
Difficulties for precedence.  places and honours of the coronation. D'Rhodes master of the ceremony, did often present unto him the order that was observed at the Coronation of Queen Elinor, wife to Francis 1. of Katherine wife to Henry 2. of Elizabeth wife to Charles 9 but in every thing his will did serve for a rule and law. There was some difficulty for the ornaments of mantles: The same differences which they give in the Arms of Prince's houses, to distinguish the elder from the younger, are observed in the ornaments which are given at marriages and funerals. For we have seen upon the mantles of Orleans the Lambeaux gueles with the flowers de Luce. Upon those of Arthois, the Lambeaux castelled or, upon those of Anjou Lambeaux moving in chief: in like manner they of Valois, of Berry, of Alencon, have carried borders either plain or engrailed, or charged with besans: they of Eureux bastons Or and Argent, and they of Bourbon bastons gueles.  
The Queen's Mantle was pouldered with flowers de Luce, 
Description of the Queen's Mantle.  without number, as merely royal & belonging solely unto Majesty. The King's daughter and Queen Marguerite had 4. flower de luces pure upon the border of their mantles. The Princesses of the blood, demanded three, with the differences of arms, to the end that as there was a distinction of the King's daughters mantle from theirs, so should there be of theirs from those of other Princesses. The Earl of Soison said, that the flowers de luce were the marks of their house, that their marriages and funerals were honoured therewith, that the Princesses of the blood had always carried them, with the differences of the branches and royal families from whence they were descended. The Princess of Conde at the entry of Queen Elizabeth; The Lady Dovager, Mother to the Princess of Conde, at his marriage. The Princess his mother, and the Duke of Montpensier at their Interments, as honours and prerogatives inseparable from the quality of their birth; without the which the Princesses of the blood should not be distinguished from the rest. But finding that this distinction was not pleasing unto the King, 
Eatle of Soisson retires himself discontented.  he retired himself to his house at Montigny, and the Countess of Soisson came not to the ceremony. This departure did afflict him, and this affliction appeared in his countenance, on Twesday the xi. of May, and in the words which he spoke upon that subject, to his most confident servants. At the end of his dinner he was advertised, that some troops of horse which were in the army, came and lived at discretion, and did not obey the Duke of Nevers; he was offended with the Captains, and told them they should be with their charges; Than directing his speech to the Constable and other Noblemen, he said. When my subjects shall be ruined, who shall feed me? who shall pay you your pensions and entertainments? They that serve me must rest satisfied with what I give them. I have taken an order to deduct that out of the taxes which the people hath given unto the men of war, and to accounted upon the soldiers musters what they have received of the people. This equality being observed, the discipline which they think so difficult, shall be kept in despite of the most insolent and incorrigible. The Captains should prevent these disorders, if they were in the army, but they will see Coronations and Triumphs; Curiosity should not make them remiss and careless of their duties. I would go a hundred leagues to a battle, but I assure you I would not step a foot for this; & if it were not necessary, they should not see me there.  
All difficulties were determined with so great toil & contention, 
King and Queen came to S. Denis.  as if the Queen had been at the beginning of this enterprise, she would have been distasted, & lost all desire to pursue it; Their Majesties came on wednesday being the 12. Of May to S. Denis. The King at his arrival remembered that he had not been in the Abbey since his conversion, and this remembrance made him to speak these words. The last time I was here I had no heir, and did not look to have any, I thank God now for that which he hath given me.  
The Queen's chiefest care was to prepare herself to receive the grace which she expected the next day. The King seeing her enter into her devotions to confession, he retired himself, and kissing her, he said, My love, make a confession for us both. Vitry being then in quarter, as Captain of the guard of the King's person, had caused the doors of S. Denis church to be walled up, reserving only one which did not open but to such as had a ticket from him, or were well known. It was opened presently after midnight, every one being placed at ease to see, or to be seen: the scaffolds being built after that manner, as notwithstanding that the assembly were of seven or eight thousand persons, yet the last were no way hindered by them that were before them. Nothing did trouble the beholder's sight, nor the officers who appointed what should be done.  
The King's Oratory being on the side of the Altar towards Dagoberts' tomb, 
Preparation of S. Denis church.  the founder of that Church, had two doors, one to the Altar, the other to the Queen's Theatre. He came thither presently after dinner, & it seemed he had laid aside majesty for that day, & had resigned it wholly unto the Queen, to have but the remainder of the honours which were done her. He made a turn about the Church, until she were ready, giving order for all things necessary. His judgement did determine the difficulty betwixt the two Captains of the hundred Gentlemen, and that which fell out betwixt the Archers of the guard of the King's body, and the hundred Gentlemen. He advised the last to look unto themselves, saying, That he had never seen but in such ceremonies one would outstrip another. All that served for the pomp and state of this action, marching before the Queen, about two of the clock she was conducted to the Church, 
Manner of the Queen going to her Coronation.  and did ascend the great Theatre: The Dauphin, the Duke of Anjou, (by reason of the indisposition of the Duke of Orleans) and for them Sovuray and Bethunes their governors carried the folds of her Mantle. The Cardinals of Gondy and Sourdy led her, the Prince of Conty carried the Crown, the duke of Vendosme the Sceptre, the Chevalier of Vendosme the hand of justice. The Lady Elisabeth the King's daughter, & Queen Marguerite followed the Queen; the Princess of Conde, the Princess of Conty, and the Duchess of Monpensier carried the train of her royal mantle, Chasteauvieux, her knight of honour did help to support it, by her majesties express commandment  
The beauty of this pomp was admirable to all men: Queen Marguerite carried an ornament, as she whose mother had been crowned upon the same Theatre. The Marguerites of France come after the flower de luce of florence. Marguerite of Valois did serve Katherine de Medicis in the like occasion. Other Queens have affected solitariness, to conceal their griefs and complaints for the change of their condition. She came to Court to let the world see the contentment which she receives in the justice of that which hath been prosecuted at her entreaty, advanced with her desires, and followed with her quiet. She yields all honours and respect to this Queen: She doth acknowledge so many merits and perfections to be in her, as she doth not think one crown sufficient for so many virtues.  
We must confess that there was never seen, neither could there be seen any thing that did equal the order, the beauty, and majesty of this action. They were amazed at such a silence in so great a multitude, at so great reverence done to holy mysteries among men of different religions: so great order and constancy among spirits whose patience is presently spent, and cannot force themselves to ceremonies of long expectation, some being there from the beginning of the night, others from the break of day. When as the King saw the Queen approach, he said that he had never seen her so beautiful. And although it seemed that the care of rising early, and the trouble of so forced and ceremonious a day should have been prejudicial, yet her complexion was never clearer nor more fresh.  
I did carefully observe all the King's discourse; 
King's carriage at the Ceremony  the quickness and vivacity of his spirit did work more actively than his eyes, & did pierce into things which they must divine. At the same instant he carried his eyes upon one, and did judge of the actions of another being far off. The Duke of Espernon said unto him, Sir, Do you not see the Pope's Nuncio who laughs at the countenance of his neighbour? Not (said the king) it is to see la Force & father Cotton in discourse. It was true he did judge of their thoughts and words, by their eyes & countenance, and suddenly he did observe a Lady in one place & a nobleman in another, & did let the farthest of them understand that he knew them. Every motion was an action, he spoke to the noblemen that were about him, to the Archbi. of Rheims, the Duke of Espernon Montbason & Raise, to Bellegard master of his horse, to the lords of Pralin, lafoy Force, du Bellay & de Vic; he commanded the Marquis of Vernueill to observe what was done, he spoke to them that were below; he pitied the Cardinal of joyeuse for that they kept him so long fasting, and Queen Margueret for that she had risen too soon; he did presently answer all difficulties which grew for precedence. His spirit was every where, and yet no where but in himself.  
They had prepared a chair for him, but the joy which he conceived made him to leave it, and to lay by both hat and cloak, still changing his place, and always speaking either of that which he saw, or of what was done. He was very attentive to the Coronation, the which he would have performed with all reverence and silence: he was sorry to see the glass of the winddowes (which the Duke of Montbason broke, to have a more free view) fall upon the Prelates which were set at the foot of his Oratory before the Altar. I observe this to stop their mouths which have said, that it was done by his commandment.  
The Queen was brought before the Altar, there to be crowned. The form of Coronations requires, that the Inferior be crowned by the superior. Augustus gave the Diadem to Herod, Tiberius to Tigranes' King of Armenia; Nero to Tiridates, Domitian to Decebalus, and Traian to Parthania; Princes which acknowledge no superior, receive it from God by the hands of their Ministers; and Queens, which have no light but from the beams of Kings their orient Sun, should be crowned by Kings. Esther was crowned by Assuerus. Ptolomee, marrying his sister, did set a Crown upon her head in the face of the army. Mitridates gave it to Milesia, Heraclius to Eudoxia. Constantin the younger to Theodora, Phocas to Leontia, and in our days Christina of Lorraine was crowned by Ferdinand great Duke of Tuscan. But the piety of the house of France, to show that her Kings and Queens have no majesty but what comes from God, binds them to receive the Crown by his Ministers, and before his Altars, confessing that these supreme honours depend merely of his grace. King's have been present at the Coronation of Queens, as Lewis the young at that of Isabella of Henault, and Philip Augustus at that of Alix of Blois, not to authorize, but to adorn the action; the only presence of God, by that of his servants, being necessary. Crowns are equal, there is no disparity, jupiter hath no more beams in his then juno. That wherewith the Queen is crowned, is the same the King receives at his anointing. Reason, which makes of two hearts one, and the persons consorts of one life, to divide equally their crosses & comforts, doth neither allow of the difference of crowns observed at the coronation of the Empress of Constantinople, nor the form of crowning them, the Emperor receiving the crown from the Patriarch, the which he sets upon his wives head.  
The Queen then being before the Altar, kneeling, 
Coronation of the Queen.  her hands joined, and her head humbled, they made a prayer, that it would please God to bless that action of the Ministry, and humility of his Ministers, and pour upon her the effects of his grace and virtue. The Bishop of Paris having been appointed to present the sacred oils, the Queen's head and breast was anointed. The Bishop of Beziers, chief Almoner to the Queen, by reason of the indisposition of Cardinal du Peron, chief Almoner of France, presented the crown, which the Cardinal of joyeuse did set upon her majesties head. The Prelates presented the honours, the Sceptre, the hand of justice, and the Ring; The kiss, whereof women are dispensed in homages ended this mystery, and the general silence made it more venerable and stately. The Queen returning from the Altar to the Throne, the crown of Stones which was set on in the place of the greater, had almost fallen off, but she stayed it presently with her hand, and set it fast. A prediction of good fortune which her wisdom and government should bring unto our miseries. It seemed that her heart was not pleased with so great joy, honour, and contentment as that day did give her, for she was sad and troubled, as a Prophetess of some disaster. During this melancholy, she spoke these words. I consider that I can receive but two honours in this Church, this is the first, the other shall be at my funeral, when it pleaseth God.  
This great Queen did imitate the Emperors of Constantinople, who on the day of their Coronations did choose Marble & Porphery for their tombs. This was to have the spirit touched with the same motions of that great light of the Eastern Church, who commanded his friends to put him in mind to finish his tomb, when they should see him most joyful. She remembered her whose name she bears, who paid unto her son the great usury of the joy, which she had had at his birth, who did not apprehended so great glory to be exalted above the Thrones of Angels, as she felt grief and sorrow to see him tied upon the Gross betwixt two thieves.  
The King having observed all this ceremony, said, That it was a great mark of the dignity of the Church, for that it had particular forms and ceremonies to honour a royalty, where as other Religions had not any thing like to anoint their Kings, nor ministers appointed to that end. Some one said unto him, that under the bark of ceremonies they found great mysteries; that the simplest and lightest had their reasons and grounds, that even the smoke on Incense bade hers, representing the prayers and intentions of the faithful sent up to heaven. This caused him to remember an excellent discourse which Cardinal du Perron had made unto him upon that subject, speaking as all the East hath spoken of the writings of Gregory Nazianzen, whose authority was so great, as they were never reprehended nor contradicted. He also took great delight in the discourse which Father Cotton made to the Marquis of la Force, upon the explication of the ceremonies of the mass and the Coronation.  
This being ended, he settled himself to hear the rest of the service, and setting him down in his chair, he came to his first admiration, why the Ambassador of Spain did not uncover himself. Cicogne told him that the deceased King of Spain did but move his hat at the elevation, and put it on presently again, as if he had saluted a very mean Gentleman. Whereupon the King said, If we had that feeling of Religion which we should have, we would do more reverence to those mysteries, for we must believe, that after the words of consecration pronounced until the Communion, jesus Christ is always present upon the Altar. These were his very words, there wants nothing but the grace and zeal wherewith he delivered them. I observed them curiously for the beautifying of his History, and the honour of his piety. In acts of religion, humility is no less requisite in Princes then in subjects. Devotion doth no wrong to Majesty. That which seems unfitting for gravity, is honourable in religion. David danced among the rest before the Ark, and did not disdain to acknowledge, among them all, him that had advanced him above all. The most fruitful and necessary lesson for Kings, is humility; their birth and quality makes them disposed to pride. Humility is the true character of grace. All virtues are commendable in great Princes, but humility is necessary: many are advised, but this is commanded.  
He that hath not all may save himself, but he that hath not this is undone.  
With this humility the Queen received the book of the Gospel and kissed it, acknoledging that it is the rule of salvation, the compass of faith, the Doctrine of eternal wisdom, which makes Kings to reign. That which it teacheth is truth without deceit, that which it commandeth is bounty without malice, and that which it promiseth is felicity without misery,. But when she did rise from her throne to come unto the offering, humility retired unto her heart, and left nothing but sweetness in her eyes: Majesty appeared upon her, and about her, after a stately and reverent manner, so as in marching she seemed, not a Queen, but a Goddess, and then it was that the King said, that this was rightly to play the Queen.  
All things were answerable. She came in the same order that she had been conducted to the Coronation; 
Queen goes to the offering.  the offerings being carried upon rich cushions with towels of white damask fringed with gold. She received them from the hands of the Princesses of Conty, of Montpensier and of Guise, and offered them herself upon the Altar; the wine in two little barrils of silver and guilt, a loaf of silver, and a loaf of gold, with a purse and thirteen pieces of gold, every piece being worth thirteen crowns.  
The preface being begun, the King followed the Cardinal of joyeuzes' voice who was at the Altar. It is an ancient mark of piety in the Kings of France, to mingle their vows and voices with the Ministers of God. Charlemaigne, Robert, and St. Lewis did sing in the Church, and King Charles the 9 had been heard sing. He carried so great reverence and respect to holy Mysteries, as his eyes discovered the zeal of his heart. The Pope's Nuncio observing this fervency, and these pure and free motions of his spirit, rejoiced with the the other Prelates, saying that the Pope would receive great contentment therewith.  
To all this days honours, which were the greatest that the earth could produce, it was fit to add the perfection of all the graces which we can receive from heaven, the full sum of all benefits, the abridgement of wonders, the eternal gage of the love of God; wherefore the Queen was led the third time toward the Altar, where she did kneel down upon a Cushon which the Duke of Elbeuf presented to her, and received the holy Sacrament, having, for greater reverence, set by the Crown which she had upon her head. A solemn declaration that the Crowns of Princes submit themselves to our saviours Crown of thorns, that all their majesty depends of his power, their greatness hath no brightness but from that light, and it seems like unto the Enamel which doth not show about a pigeons neck, if the Sun doth not shine upon it.  
The Ceremony ended, about 4. of the Clock the Heralds cast a largesse unto the people of a great number of pieces of gold and silver. All the Church did sound again with cries and acclamations of joy and happiness.  
I have not described it so particularly and exactly as some may wish: This is a History, not a Ceremonial.  
If the Noblemen which served in this action take it ill that they have been forgotten in this discourse, they must remember that their names are written elsewhere, and that the hazards of battles, and not the pomps of Ceremonies are their true theatres.  
The Queen was conducted back again to her Chamber by the Duke of Guise, and the Chevalier of Guise his brother: The King received her in the presence Chamber, and in that encounter the great fervency of his heart did evaporate itself by the tears of his eyes, with such tenderness and affection, as one would have thought he had given his last embracing. He told her that she was to thank God, for that all things had passed so well: That never any thing had been performed with more order and honour; and seeing her to have more desire to rest then to dine, he commanded every one to departed the Chamber.  
He was so well pleased with her royal Mantle, as he presently told Sancerre, Controller general of his plate, and master of the Queen's robes, that he would have a Cassock of the same fashion, besides three others of diverse colours, embroidered and enriched with divers Ciphers, to carry upon his arms; and for that he could not have them before his departure, he commanded him to follow in post, and to bring it as soon as it should be made, recommending the soliciting thereof unto the Queen.  
He supped at Saint Denis, and they told him during supper, that the Ambassadors of Spain and Venice had a quarrel. He had foreseen it, and knowing that their spirits were altered by the forgetting of some compliment which the one thought should have been done by the other, they might discover their discontents upon the first occasion, he recommended it to the Pope's Nuncio, to have a care lest they should do anything unworthy the respect which was due to that occasion. This was handled so discreetly, as the solemnity was not troubled. The Ambassador of Venice did sometimes cast forth words to draw on others. The Ambassador of Spain who had promised that he would not offend him, if he were not first offended, foreseeing that if in this discourse, he gave him siegneurie or Lordship, instead of Excellency, (terms which were the only cause of the jar which was betwixt them) he should be forced to break out into some passionate speech, he remained silent, and kept his gravity, having much pain to command himself, so as his countenance could not dissemble the trouble and perturbation of his mind; At the return from the Ceremony they did accompany the Nuncio, and did attend until he was entered into his Caroche to return to Paris. At the very instant of his departure they fell to words and then to blows. The King would needs see the keeper of the house and his wife, to understand the manner, the advantage, and the issue of this Combat.  
After supper he sent Chasteauvieux to tell the Queen that if she had a will to go to Paris he would stay for her; who answered, that she was ready. They came back together in one Caroche, and the King made a discourse unto her of this quarrel, with the descriptions and exaggerations, which he could enrich exceeding well, and the joy wherein he was gave it much grace. Two leasters of the Court, to entertain him in this humour fell to words and blows before him upon the way. The ensign of his guard seeing this sport on horseback and with swords drawn to be too near his Carroche, he caused them to retire, but the King commanded them to let them alone, for that he took delight in it.  
All that evening he spoke of nothing but of that which he had seen and observed, and could not sufficiently admire the Majesty, grace, and royal behaviour of the Queen. hereupon La Brosse a learned Physician and Mathematician, said unto the Duke of Vendosme, after a long discourse, that if the King could avoid an accident which did threaten him, he might live yet thirty years. 
Predictions of the king's death.  No man is willing to let Kings understand that which may trouble them; the Duke of vendosme thinking it more convenient that lafoy Brosse should be the reporter of this advise, besought the King to hear him; the king demanded what he would. At these words the Duke of Vendosme held his peace, his silence made the King more desirous to know it, he priest him, and he excused himself, in the end the King's commandment drew from him that which la Brosse had spoken: You are a fool, said the King you believe it; Sir answered the Duke of Vendosme, in these matters belief is forbidden, but not fear; your majesties preservation binds all the world, and me more than all men not to contemn any thing: I beseech you most humbly to be pleased to bear him; the King would not, but forbade him to speak of it. I cannot, said the Duke, do less then advertise the Queen. The King replied twice, that if he spoke of it he would never love him; And so lafoy Brosse was sent away. This discourse I had word by word from the Duke of Vendosme.  
At the same time the Queen did rest at an other prediction, which did assure her that she should not pass those days of joy and triumph without some wonderful cross and affliction. At her return from Saint Denis she saw him that had told her, whom she let understand that all things had succeeded happily at her Coronation, and that there was more likelihood to hope for good then to fear any evil. Madame, said he, your entry is made, if I have not spoken the truth, I will burn my Books.  
It is true that she had been long before advertised that in May 1610. she should have a great Crosse. But as she is as little curious of these observations, as any Princess of Europe, so there is not any one living that doth contemn them more, not that gives them less credit. She did no more esteem this Prediction, than the threats of the Astrologians, who said, that she should dye upon the delivery of the Lady Christina her second daughter.  
At that time they spoke generally of some great accident that should happen. They called to mind many predictions upon Comets, the Eclipses and Conjunction of superior Planets. Leovicius had conjured all Kings that were borne under Aries and Libra, to have a care of themselves.  
The Star which was seen the year before at noonday, had been considered by the Mathematicians as a sign of some sinister effect, The river of Loire had overflowed with the like fury at the time of the violent deaths of Henry the second, and Henry the third. The seasons perverted the extreme cold, the violent heat, and those mountains of Ice which were seen upon the rivers of Loire and Saone filled men's heads with like apprehensions. They had divulged about Paris verses of the Samaritaine upon the new bridge, in imitation of Nostradamus, which spoke plainly of the King's death.  
It is a great rashness to presume to foretell that which no man but God knows. The knowledge of future things is overcast with darkness, so as humane judgements cannot pierce into it. If future things might be known by the stars, men had no need of Prophets to foretell before so many ages, of their Redemption, of the estate of the Church, and of the latter day.  
But for my part I hold, that if the stars give not some knowledge of these great disasters which fall upon Princes, it were a folly for private men to consult upon their influences, and to divine what shall happen.  
The religious contempt which this Prince made of all these observations, is so much the more commendable in him, for that curiosity doth insensibly settle a belief in the spirits of great men, by the encounter of some truth, as it is impossible that in aiming still at one mark, they should not sometimes hit it. The Court, which hath always idleness to make men's minds delicate, and vanity to make them curious is the element of these diviners, they adore them when they speak truth, and they excuse them when they are mistaken, they remember if they have delivered any thing truly, and forget their lies. God doth also suffer a mischief to fall upon him that did believe it, not to give countenance and authority to the Impostor, but to punish his lightness that gave ear to the Impostor.  
He was told in the beginning of his reign, that he should be interred eight or ten days after King Henry the third, whose hearse was laid in deposito, at Compeigne: That he should be slain in the 57 year of his age, and that this mischief should happen at a great ceremony, with a hundred other fantasies, which he regarded not, saying always, That God only knew the account, and could number the days of man. And although that by the events of that which they had foretold him of his greatest adventures, yea of his coming to the Crown, his belief should have been tempted to harken to such predictions, yet it remained always constant in the contempt which he had made.  
In Germany they had made his Horoscope, the which ended his life in the 57 year of his age, by a violent blow: Bombast a great Mathematician had published by the trumpet of the Imperial Knight, that this Prince went happily and triumphantly to the Monarchy of Europe, if a terrible accident which did threaten him in the midst of his great & glorious designs did not hinder him.  
He that had foretold the Duke of Guise of the issue of the estates of Blois, and the Duke of Mayenne, the loss of the battle of Yury, had said, he should dye this year of a violent death. A great Preacher told the Duke of Guise and his mother, that this joy should be troubled with great sorrow and heaviness. They had found upon an Altar at Montargis, a prediction of this disastrous day. An Image they said, had cast forth tears at boleyn; many other signs more curious than considerable. The Marshal of Raiz wife hath been heard say, that Queen Katherine being desirous to know what should become of her children, and who should succeed them, the party which undertook to assure her, let her see a glass, representing a hall, in the which either of them made so many turns as he should reign years, & that K. Henry the 3. making his, the Duke of Guise crossed him like a flash of lightning, after which the Prince of Navarre presented himself, and made 22. turns, and then vanished.  
Whilst they made all things ready for the Coronation, they showed him a Prediction come out of Spain, telling that a great King which had been prisoner in his youth, should dye in the month of May, but he said, that that was the policy of the Spaniard to trouble that coronation, and that they should sand the ball back with the like advise. It seemed that he himself was the Sybile of his own misfortune: he told the duke of Suylly that he had something lying at his heart, so as he could not be merry, and that he apprehended some accident. He said often, that he should not continued long, and that good men should want him. They told him that by reason of the continual rain in the spring, the streets of Paris were all covered with mire, and that if they were not cleansed, the Queen's entry would be very incommodious for the Noblemen that were appointed to attend about her Litter, whereto he answered, It concerns not me, I shall not see it. The tree planted in the Court of the Lovure fell of itself the first day of May, without any force or violence, and beyond all appearance the head towards the lesser stairs▪ Bossompiere seeing this, told the Duke of Guise, with whom he leaned upon the bars of iron of the little walk before the Queen's Chamber, that in Germany and Italy they would hold the fall of this tree to be ominous, whose shadow did serve all the world. The King supposing they had some other talk, leaning his head easily unto theirs, heard all this discourse, and said unto them, My ears have been filled these twenty years with these Predictions, but there shall nothing happen but what pleaseth God.  
On Saturday the eight of May he came to see the Queen, being set at dinner, ask her if the Coronation should be on Twesday, but she held her peace, for that her answer could not satisfy his desire. Than he said unto her, Why? you speak nothing unto me. I would be glad (said the Queen) it were tomorrow, but Sancerre tells me it cannot be before Thursday; whereupon he sent for Sancerre, and grew in choler at these delays, lamenting more the loss of time and occasions then two hundred thousand crowns which this stay did cost him, and thereupon he said unto the Queen, My love, if it be not on Thursday, I assure you that Friday once past you shall see me no more. The Queen smile, you will be glad (said she) to see the entry. Not (answered the King) On Friday I will bid you farewell. Man speaks words after his own sense, and the destinies makes them to be understood, and to fall out after an other manner.  
Walking at the Tuilleries on the Wednesday, he said unto Montigny and Cicongne, I would I were dead; And when as they told him that he had no cause to wish for death, 
He wisheth himself dead.  his life being full of all prosperity and content, he answered, you are more happy than I am, which words he spoke often and to many. His servants were afflicted, for that he did afflict himself without subject, for at that time he had so great prosperity in his affairs, so much reputation in his designs, as nothing did oppose itself against his will, but to augment the glory of his power. He had so many blessings in his house, as he might like to that wise King of Egypt, 
His great blessing & happiness.  show the Queen his wife, and the Princes his children, as his treasors, and the greatest graces which favourable heaven may give unto a great Prince.  
In matters that were most declining and in a manner desperate, God did always assist him with great courage, and with an invincible constancy, which bred admiration in his servants and amazement in his enemies, who saw him recover new force like Anteus when as they thought he had been quite vanquished, but in the dissensions and quarrels of his Court, he could not but show his disquietness and impatience, at the motion whereof he did sometimes wish to change his condition, he commended sollitarinesse, wherein he found the true tranquillity of the mind. There is nothing wanting; Manna falls there, the ravens bring bread from Heaven. If the waters be bitter, there is wood to sweeten them. If the combat of Amalec and Edom be there, the triumph of Moses and josua is likewise there. But this kind of life is not fit for Princes, who are not borne for themselves, but for their Estates, and for the people over whom they are set. In this sea there is no other haven but the grave, and they must die in action.  
When as his cheese servants, who could not yield unto a lie, nor dissemble the truth, did acquaint him with any disorder in his affairs, and that using the power which he had given them, they did lay open with all freedom and sincerity, the things that were not generally liked of: he promised to take a time to reform them, gave his reasons, represented inconveniences, and consequences, there concluding, coldly, without any alteration of choler, which is ordinary in Princes that are contradicted, he said, When I am dead they shall then know my worth. Desiring that the Queen should be informed of affairs; he did often instruct her, and advised her to know them whom he did most trust, saying, That she might one day have need of them, and seeing her estrange her thoughts from that business, he added, that by the order and course of nature he should go first, and that he would leave her France in that estate, and all things so well settled and assured, as she should not be troubled like other Queens to maintain them.  
A little before the Queen's coronation, passing with her from her Chamber to the Cabinet, he stayed at the door to speak to one, and seeing her stay until he had done, he said smiling unto her, Pass on, pass on Lady Regent. He did then allow that which the heavens had resolved to do, and men have since confirmed, that which God and the King had ordained. He had never called the Dauphin King. It is the last word that Kings speak; the jealousy of Sovereign command doth not pronounce it, but in extremity, and I remember that a Nobleman saying unto him, that he wished that my Lord the Dauphin had a dozen of his years, he answered; I would not that he bade one. And the day of the coronation, as if God would that in so great an assembly he should make the last disposition of his estate: he said unto his Guard; Behold your King.  
Going on a time out of his Caroche, he told the Prince of Conde and the Baron of Saint Chaumont, that he had been advertised he should die in a Caroche of a violent death. The last time he came from Monceaux, he passed by Saint Maur des Fossez to see the Dauphin, going from thence after supper to Paris to his bed: Being advised by some to take his horse, and that it was dangerous to go by night in a Carroche, he answered, If any one should fear it is I, for I have been told I should dye in a Carroche. He had escaped great dangers in Caroche, which should have made him apprehended the truth of this prediction. France shall never remember the over-throwing of the Caroche into the river of Seine at Port de Nevilly, and of that which was in it, but she will acknowledge herself bound to praise God, who preserved the King, and retired the Queen from out the midst of the shadows of death, and saved her from this shipwreck, to save France at need. We have spoken it before, and we will say again in the continuance of the History, that the deep waters were not able to quench the lively and eternal flames of love which she bore unto the King; for the first words she pronounced were, Where is the King? A Mathematician did advertise him at the siege of la Fere, that he should not pass such a day without danger of his life; In despite of these dreams, he showed himself unto the walls, and to the enemy's Cannon, and supping that night at Travessy, he praised GOD for that the day which had been noted unto him to be unfortunate, had passed happily. He did accompany the Duchess of Beaufort to Movy, where she was lodged by Torchelight, the horses stumbled in a bad passage, and drew the Carroche after them into a precipice or downfall, all that were in it were in great danger, the Carroche was torn in pieces, & the horses slain or lamed. This accident following presently after the threat, should have been of force to make him leave the use of Caroches, but he made a jest at it, and would never believe that this was an effect of the Mathematicians Prediction.  
It is true, there is no worse lodging for a Prince which goes in public than a Carroche. The King of Chyna goes in one, but besides his ordinary guards, which are about him, he hath always five or six attired like himself, to the end he should not be distinguished nor known. When as they propounded unto the Earl of Fuentes a design to trouble France, and to kindle a new civil war, he said, it was impossible whilst the King lived, and that first of all Bee must be made away. When as he that did manage this business, did represent unto him the difficulty thereof, the Earl answered, that there was nothing more easy, seeing that he went often in a Carroche.  
We must neither believe confidently nor wholly neglect all kinds of dreams. Those of great Princes are not vain upon great resolutions, after which we found that they have been divinely inspired. Few great accidents have happened unto the Queen without some precedent dream. 
The Queen's dreams.  She dreamed of the death of Pope Leo the tenth, and that Cardinal Aldobrandino said unto her, that his successor should be no less affected to her house. She saw the death of the great Duke Fernand her uncle in a dream, and the next day sending for his Agent, she demanded what news he had last received. To whom he answered; that he had none but good; then she replied, that the first he should receive should not be so.  
Some few days before this fatal accident she had two dreams, the which were true predictions, when as the jewelers and Lapidaries prepared her crown she dreamed that the great diamonds and all the goodly stones which she had given them to enrich it were turned into Pearls, the which the interpreters of dreams take for tears. The second dream made her to start as one terrified; where at the King did wonder, and asked her what she ailed, the which at the first she would not discover, saying only, that dreams were lies, and that she gave no credit to them: neither do I, said the King, but what was your dream? being priest and entreated; I dreamed, said she, that one stabbed you with a knife upon the little stairs. God be thanked, answered the King, it is but a dream: she asked if she should call up Renovilliere, who was the first woman of her Chamber, but the king told her there was no need and so fell presently a sleep. He was a Prince of so good a constitution, as he had two things equally at his disposition, to sleep & wake when it pleased him.  
Many things were observed at S. Denis and taken for a bad presage: the King and Queen said that their sleeps had been interuped by a Scrike owl, a night bird which betokens funerals, which had made a croaking all night at their Chamber window. The stone which lies upon the vault whereas the Kings are interred was found open. Curiosity, which observes every slight circumstance, took it for an i'll sign that the Queen's taper went out of itself, and that if she had not laid hand to her Crown, it had fallen twice. I know not what to think when as the same day this Prince, beholding the theatres so well peopled and in so good order, said; that it made him remember the day of judgement, and that they would be much amazed to see the judge come. This year before this accident two Gentlemen, the one of Bearne, the other of Condome of divers relligions, yet both servants to the king, brought two visions which did advertise him of this latter day, he of Condome, had seen nothing but in a dream; the other said, that walking a great man had appeared unto him, carrying the king's picture upon his heart, and had said unto him; Go unto Fontainbleau whereas the King shall enter even as thou shalt arrive, tell him this and that on the behalf of God. He obeyed and theking heard him, who remembering that many cossenors had covered their deceits with the like advertisements to get money, and seeing this gentleman refuse three hundred crowns which he had appointed for his journey, saying that he had no other design therein but to obey God, and to serve the King, he did not contemn this advice, and was well conceited of it.  
Many after the blow will say that they had spoken well, every man will deal with divining, and say that Cassandra hath spoken truly, but she was unfortunate, no man believed her, we will not go far, to morrow we will confess that all these predictions were too true. The King came to see the Queen, who supped in her secret Cabinet, and was atended on by her women. He talked unto her, and drank twice the remainders of that which she had left in her glass, more for pleasure then for any thirst, and then he went presently to his bed, And as his army was the continual object of his thoughts, being in his great Cabinet ready to go to his rest, he took Pralin by the arm, and leaning upon him, he spoke these words; Many think ill of my voyage, but by the grace of God, from a cause which in their opinions is bad, and in my judgement most just, we will draw good effects.  
The Queen was still in her Cabinet when he went to bed, where she remained long, entertaining herself with that which was done, and that which was to be done. Her good servants were bound for many respects to remember that day, but she would have the remembrance of her Coronation accompanied with that of her affection, and therefore she sent unto them in particular Medalles, of pieces of gold and silver, which the largesse had made public at Saint Denis, and commanded Dargouge, her treasurer, to give them unto all the officers of her household: these pieces had on the one side her picture wonderfully well cut, and on the other a great Crown, out of the which sprung three branches, a Laurel, a Palm and an Olive, with this Inscription after an Antic manner, appointed by the Chancellor; Seculi Felicitas. She also disposed of many things that might serve for the finishing of her entry. We may well speak now for to morrow at this time we shall speak no more of this. We might have seen Arcades, theatres, Arbours and Statues set up to this end, with the goodly troops of horse and foot of the City. But that which remained to be seen, was such, as they might use the like words unto the beholders, as they did unto such as were invited unto the secular games; Come and see that which was never seen, and which no man living shall ever see.  
Of all the ceremonies of the house of France, the goodliest and most sumptuous are at the Coronations and entry of Queens. The Ornaments, the long habits, the sex, add particular graces and beauty to the Pomp, and hold the eyes, hearts, and spirits of men suspended, betwixt joy and admiration.  
We should have seen the Queen in her litter, 
Description of the Queen's entry.  made like a triumphant Chariot, covered both within and without with cloth of tissue of gold & silver, the chair, pillars, and every part of it, with the canopy over it of the same; the Dauphin on horseback, the Lady Elizabeth & Queen Marguerite also in a litter, ten Princesses or Duchess', attired after a royal manner, with crowns on their heads, upon white horses with saddle-clothes of cloth of silver, the trains of their mantles being carried up by Squires; the Lady of honour, & the Dame d'Atour, with the chief Ladies of the Court in gowns of cloth of tissue, gold and silver, with double trains upon white hackneys; twelve of the Queen's Maids attired in cloth of silver, in three Chariots covered with cloth of gold and silver, the Knights of the Order, the Noblemen of the Court, the Knight of honour, the Master of her Horse, four Squires, four Gentlemen servants, he that carried the cloak-bag, ten Pages, fourteen footmen, five horses of show, a horse which carried the casket of jewels, the Queen's hackney, her double gelding, and with all this a great number of men richly appointed, to answer the excellency of the equipage. The Queen had given liveries to the Captains of the guards, to the four companies, to the hundred Swisses, to the great Provost, and to the Captain of the Port, to their Archers, to the ushers of the Chamber carrying Maces, to the Herald at Arms, Trumpets, Houbois, Drums and Fifes.  
They had erected a Theatre at Saint Lazare, where the Queen should have received the reverences, homages, and orations which should have been made unto her, in the behalf of the body, and all the orders of the city, of the Sovereign companies, and the faculties of the University. And to that end the Chancellor was appointed to be near unto her Majesty, attired in a robe of tawny velvet in grain, lined with unshorn velvet, his cassock of satin of the same colour, and his hat of tawny velvet. His predecessors at such ceremonies were attired in cloth of tissue, gold and silver, but he would go more modestly.  
All this was ready for Sunday, there was no delay, nothing wanting: the Queen was wonderfully well pleased that the King had no more cause to be discontented for the stay of his voyage. Nothing could hinder the perfecting of this joy, but that which no man thought could happen. But the thoughts of men are but wind, their resolutions but Chimeras, their contents but illusions, Princes are oftentimes entertained with fables when they watch, they tell them tales to make them sleep, and some thing must be said whilst they sleep to revive their servants, whom a continual care afflicts, lest this great joy should be crossed with great sorrow.  
jupiter commanded Pleasure to retire to Heaven, for that he was so well followed and served by men, as he did no more care to leave the earth. To return more purely, he disrobed himself. Grief, who all the time of his abode on earth had been banished, found those clothes and disguised himself. Since she hath always deceived the world, which under the shows of joy encounters sorrow: the greatest joys being but mere vexations covered with little pleasure.  
Behold the fourteenth day of May which had been so famous in the triumphs of France for the happy victory which King Lewis the twelfth obtained on that day in the year one thousand five hundredth and nine, at Ghiradadda, is now so tragical and lamentable in the memory of the French, as the years of many ages shall never bring it about, but it shall renew in their hearts the immortal wounds wherewith it hath galled them.  
The King did rise early to end the day betimes, 
The King's actions the day of his death.  and past into his private Cabinet to apparel himself. I will note many small circumstances; I will observe all his words curiously; I will report all his actions diligently; both for that they were his last, and the last duties which the History oweth him; as also to represent them all together as in a table, whereas men's judgements shall found divers objects to busy themselves withal. Being in his Cabinet he sent for Rambure, who was arrived the night before, and whom he would employ in his army about the Duke of Vendosme; he spoke to the Barraut touching the quarrel betwixt the Ambassadors of Spain and Venice. About six of the clock he went to bed again, to give himself more liberty to do the homage of his heart unto God, and to spend some time in the exercises of piety, the which no occasions, Noah not in alarms could make him neglect. Hearing some one at the door, he said, It is Mounsieur de Villeroy, for he had sent for him by la Varenne. He discoursed much with him of affairs, and referring the rest unto the Tuilleries, he commanded him to draw the curtain, and so continued his prayers, staying for his clotheses.  
He did long to see the Noblemen which had not been at Saint Denis, to make them partakers of the contentment which he had received. Such a contentment as might be that of a triumphant King, of a most happy husband, and of a joyful father; having seen upon the theatre of glory, that which he held most dear in this world, & in a word his wife crowned, served, and followed by his children. But this content did no ways withdraw him from his affairs; he caused that morning the expeditions to be sealed for all that which he had granted to the Duke of Savoy, making it known that he was very well pleased, that his will had been followed and effected at Brussoles, where as the Marshal d'Esdiquieres had seen that Prince upon the cleared of his designs, and of the means to execute them. The Duke of Bovillon Councillor of State, having made three journeys into Piedmont about that business, had brought the articles of the league, offensive and defensive, signed in that conference.  
The joy he had conceived thereof, sat on his face all that morning, as he walked in the Tuilleries, whether my lord the Dauphin came to see him. He spoke to the Cardinal joyeuse, & to divers other Lords, & related the excellency & beauty of the coronation. He was careful to appease the strife betwixt the ambassadors of Spain & Venice. This spirit which in war would be every where, & in peace did execute all the offices of his subjects, would needs know of the harbingers, what order was taken in S. Denis street, the number of those who were to be lodged, & what lets were made by particular persons, and where his own lodging was; it was appointed near to S. james his hospital. He went to the monastery of the Fueillans, and heard out mass without any interruption. The ancient order of God's service in the house of the French Kings, forbiddeth any man to undertake to speak to the King concerning business when he is hearing mass. He is only to be entertained with discourses of piety. His custom was to 'cause the gospel for that day to be expounded to him.  
When he came thither after none, his Majesty used some excuses to the Prelates, saying; Businesses have made our devotions slow: It is true, that when I labour for the commonwealth, I pray, and by reason thereof I do some times on working days lose mass. This is to leave God, for God. In the same church he saw the Chapel which the family of Bassompierre had builded, and reading this verse of the Psalm, which was set down for an Emblem, Quid retribuam Domino pro omnibus quae retribuit mihi? he said, Bassompierre as a German should have added, Calicem accipiam. This so sharp and ready reply, drawn from the thing itself, was admired, and the Duke of Guise thereupon having broken a witty jest, the King added, You know me not: when you shall miss me, than you will know me, and that will be shortly.  
Before he would sit down to meat, he did in his Cabinet hear D'escures concerning the journey he made by his commandment, to discover the passage of the river Semoy. By his report he was assured of that which others held doubtful; he did represent it easy, safe, and commodious, thorough the country of Castle-Renaud, which belongeth in sovereignty to the Princess of Conty at the ford of Fillover a little beneath Linchamp.  
He was much pleased with this resolution, for it was told him that the Marquis Spinola had seized on those places to stop his passage. His content was augmented, when as he certified him of the state and goodly disposition of his Army, of the Swisseses arrival, of the equipage of the artillery, and of the good order which the Duke of Nevers did there observe, of the joy which the foreign troops conceived for his coming, of the general amazement of the country of Luxembourg, and of other Provinces of the Low countries, which made this Prince invincible, and which at the very first, would 'cause weapons to fall out of the hands, and confidence from the hearts of the most resolute.  
The desire to behold it, was redoubled in his soul, when as he considered how his designs, did as it were outgo his desires; that all things were conformable to his will, and that Fortune did seem to present him with Towns and Provinces, taken in nets: He was so opportunely and faithfully served, as he caused places of great importance to be discovered, before they who commanded them had any inkling thereof, and he was more confident to take them, then resolute to assail them.  
All the officers of the Crown, all the chief Lords of the kingdom, all the gallantry of the Provinces were near about him, & albeit they did not certainly know whether the wind would carry them, they were content to be embarked in a ship, whose Pilot was not only skilful in guiding the Helm, but had been always beloved and favoured of Neptune.  
He said, that he would have four thousand Gentlemen; that out of the same number, he would choose two thousand, and would 'cause them to serve with pikes, with a thousand musketeiers, chosen out of all the infantry, and that under the conduct of a good Captain, he would present them at the head of the enemy's army, and would 'cause them to skirmish.  
Than he added in favour of the French Nobility, of whose force, courage, and sufficiency he had made good proof. What is their in the whole world that is able to resist it? what can not two thousand French Gentlemen do in their King's presence? They will overturn Mountains. He showed. twelve petronels for twelve footman, saying, that it was to salute five hundred paces off, those gallants who should come to play the Carabines at any time when he went to make discovery.  
He made account in his absence to commit all royal authority to the Queen, leaving the Constable and the Chancellor with her, he determined to take the Precedent janin along with him, in praise of whose wisdom and integrity he said, I have ever given him good words, but no deeds. He is old and hath still done me good service.  
He was highly pleased with the advertisement which the Marshal Bovillon had sent him, concerning the state of the frontiers, and for that the Marquis Spinola made show to meet him halfway, and to hinder his passage into the county of Liege, but that all the people cried out Vive la France.  
At his dinner he called Nerastang, and told him what delight he took, in that his regiment was one of the bravest and best armed, and for that he had so speedily caused it to march to the Rendezvous, that the number did exceed their entertainment, assuring him that he would remember his Captains. Nerestang replied, that the honour to be first employed in the execution of his commandments did oblige them to think more how to seek occasions to serve him well, then on the means of recompense: being assured that they would never be poor under so great and fortunate a Prince. Thus aught you to speak & in this manner will I be served quoth the king. It is for subjects to forget their services, & for Princes to remember them. My servants should trust to me, and to the care I have of them. Those unto whom I have done more good then to yourself do not acknowledge it so much as you do, and of great benefits are made the greatest ingratitudes.  
Hereupon he perceived the Princess and the Lady Christina his daughter's coming towards him, he kissed them, and asked if they had dined. The Lady of Monglas, their governess, said that they had dined at Saint Denis before they came forth, and that they had there seen the relics and the treasure. The Lady of Vendosme added that the Duke of Anjou looking steadfastly on a too mbe, one had told him that it was the Papa, and how that at that speech he did nothing but weep and cry. That is because he loves me, (said the King) for yesterday while the ceremony lasted he never gave-over crying Papa. He saw a master of requests of his household standing by, and from a martial discourse which he had ended, he fell into an other of religion, witnessing the desire which he had at his return to labour in the reunion of his subjects, by such certain and just remedies as they should not be rejected but by those, who loved the disease better than the cure. They are the most ardent vows and purest sighs of good minds, whose days in this schism are but careers of troubles and discontent.  
He amply enlarged his discourse thereon, and of the means to work the coversion of a Governor of a Province and one of his most confident and faithful servants. This man wondering at such thoughts in those great designs of arms and affairs, did twice protest, and that very zealously that his mind was ever ready and disposed thereunto. He graciously received the book of the Auant-Victor which he presented to him: who-so-ever is desirous to know the Author thereof, to admire his wit, let him read the French Soldier.  
After dinner he talked long with the precedent janin, and with Arnauld, the superintendant of his treasures, telling them that he was resolved to labour in the reformation of his state in every part thereof, to relieve the miseries and oppressions of his people, and no more to endure hereafter, that gold should be of more power in his Kingdom then virtue or desert, nor that the sale of offices should profane sacred things, conjuring all his good servants to second his good intents, with resolution and courage.  
He came into the Queen's chamber attended only by the Marquis of la Force, and albeit they said that he was in a pleasant humour, I found his countenance otherwise disposed, neither did his mind agreed with his words. He passed on to the Queen's Cabinet, who was busy in giving order for all things necessary for the pomp and magnificence of her entry, having commanded the Bishop of Bezeirs, her chief Almoner, to go to the Conciergery of the Palace, together with two or three masters of requests, to consult about the enlargement of the prisoners. He perceived the Duchess of Guise to be desirous to go into the City, and said unto her, Cousin, tarry here still we will laugh and be merry, she excused herself by reason of an assembly made by certain Advocates of the court of Parliament, at which she must needs be. He said, he would go visit the Princess of Conty who kept her chamber, being wearied with the former days toil: He could not tarry in one place & much less conceal his irresolutions, in the sundry agitations whereof, he told the Queen that he knew not what to do; that he was desirous to go to the Arsenal; and because he grew somewhat choleric, the Queen thereupon said to him, Sir do not go yourself, sand some one thither, you are now in a good humour, and you will go and disquiet yourself.  
At his coming forth of the Queen's Cabinet he shut himself into his own for to writ, and at the fifth line, as his spirits where never so attentive to any one business, but that he had still force and vigour to think of many more, he called in Clavary, whom he had sent to the Venetian Ambassador, to know in what humour he found him upon the composing of his quarrel.  
After he had written, & given the letter to one that waited for it, he came to the window, and laying his hand upon his forehead, he spoke these words. OH God there is something lying here that doth much trouble me. They were noted by Castelnaud, with whom he confidently talked a long time, having told him three days before, that three kind of griefs did perplex him.  
Cares are inseparable accidents to royalty. These high regions are never without storms; great states, like unto great ships, are ever laden with troubles and cares. This Prince's mind was tossed too and fro with sundry thoughts; and besides all that, a prisoner having told him of great matters contrary to his service, he was sorry that he was enforced to dissemble them till his return. His judgement, which knew unto what point of greatness he aught to raise men's minds and courages, would not dispose of the office of Marshal general of the army, at their pleasures who desired it.  
He was discontented for that his army was not employed, and for that they of Coloigne, like to those of Liege, had not been dealt with concerning victuals. His foresight, going before all necessities, made him resolve not to march but in safety, with considerations worthy his experiences and reputation. In regard whereof he determined to make three lodgings for his army, the first at the passage of the river of Semi: the other two farther on in a neutral country, and not to stir from thence till he had fortified them, with cavalry and foote-forces, and with all sorts of defences; and therefore above all things he would be assured of that, whose want breaketh greatest designs, and weakeneth the mightiest armies.  
Coming forth of his Cabinet, he entered into the Queen's chamber, where he talked with the Chancellor about grave, serious and important business, which touched the future, more than the present time: as though God would not have him to leave the world, before he had opened his last intents to the first and chief officer of his justice, and the last with whom he conferred about business. This discourse being ended, the Chancellor observing that he made no haste to go into the city, said unto him; Sir, I must go and assemble your Council. The King embracing him replied; Go your way, I will go and bid my wife farewell, He spoke to the Lords there present, and said; Ye know very well how Queen Marguerite said, that my wife hath done wonders at her Coronation. This had respect to some Ladies, who because they would be present at that solemnity had forced their years and infirmities, and as they were telling of certain fooleries committed at S. Denis, whereat they all did laugh, he said; Let us not laugh so much on Friday, lest we weep on Sunday. He did mock at that superstitious opinion, believing that on that day all hearts would wholly give themselves over to mirth.  
He came into the Queen's Cabinet: And herein I did observe what power the presence of this Princess had, to sweeten the discontents, and to scatter the clouds of this Prince his mind: for as though he had no more felt the sorrow, whereof he even now complained, he did fashion his countenance, speech and gesture, to whatsoever might make show of a supreme content of mind. He played the part of a father with his children, the Dukes of Orleans and Anjou. But in the midst of all this it was discerned, that his desire was to go abroad and yet could not. He said to the Queen: I know not what I ail, I am not able to go from hence: she conjured him to stay still. He commanded Frontenac to go to the Palace to give order for the royal feast, and told him that he himself would be there by six of the clock the next morning, to see how all things were prepared.  
Within a while after he sent de Vitry likewise, willing him to have a special care that he might there receive as great content, as he had done at S. Denis, and that he should find Frontenac and Forcy there. Vitry replied, Sir, you shall see other matters there, but seeing your Majesty doth command me to go thither, it may please you to remember, that I cannot be in two places at once: For when I see you hunting, or walking smally accompanied, my mind is then at quiet, and I am not afraid of your person, as I now am in this great City, which is full of incredible numbers of unknown strangers. Get you hence, quoth the King, you are a Prater, and would feign tarry here to chat with these women. Do that I bid you; fifty and odd years are past, since I have kept myself without a Captain of my Guard, I can yet well enough keep myself alone. To this Vitry replied, You need not Sir to be alone: for all your guard stand ready, expecting when your Majesty will come abroad.  
All the grace, excellency, and charms of eloquency could not persuade him in peace to care for that which he had neglected in war. His courage having so often engaged him in danger among his enemies, would not suffer him to distrust among his subjects. That brave Alexander thought it dishonour not to hazard himself at the passage of the river Granick, having crossed the arm of the sea of Hellespont. This generous Palm hath brought forth fruit at all seasons of his life, and his History doth furnish so many examples thereof, as wonder stealeth away belief. As the stars do go contrary to the course of the world, even so do his actions against base and vulgar opinions, and do throw dust in their eyes, which think to follow the high pitch of his valour.  
From the first day that he went to the war, he forgot the greatness of his birth, the necessity of his affairs, the fruit of his hopes, to sacrifice his own particular safety to that of the general. Never did Captain of a troup of Carabines bear himself more bravely, freely, and with more courage in dangers. Dangers in cities, dangers in the field, dangers at the passage of rivers, dangers at encounters, skirmishes, battles, and retreat.  
Death was every where presented before his eyes, every where did he brave and contemn it. Of a thousand examples which may be found in his history, I will mention two or three to clear this truth, and to make it apparent that never Prince hath incurred more danger to deserve the name of valiant, nor never used greater discretion to purchase that of Fortunate.  
He attempts to take Eaux with seven or eight men: a seditious fellow, sets his arqebus at his breast, saying, That he could hit the white; because this Prince above all those of his troup did wear a white doublet.  
The City being assured; his servants in the heat, caused him to be hanged forth at a window, the rope broke, he understood that one of his followers had given him a stab with a Poinard in the breast, he turned him away, and would no more see him, saying, That he who had escaped the Rope, aught to incur no farther danger.  
At the taking of Cahors, as he passed over the bridge, the shot of an arqebus from the city, slew him that was next him. The fight lasted more than thirty hours, and without his example, in contempt of dangers, the most resolved courages would have grown cold. His presence did heat them, as they say liquid Bitumen doth inflame the air which is round about it.  
He cometh forth of Nerac with nine or ten horse, to view the army of the Marshal Matignon, who in a bravery was coming thither. He was discovered by those, whom he went to discover, and on a sudden was saluted with a furious charge. He retires without disorder, and without enforcing his horse more than his ordinary pace. They reckoned five hundred poles or stakes which supporred the Vines to be broken & cracked a sunder with shot, by whose covert he returned to the city.  
If any man say that at the same time he was but King of a part of Navarre, and chief of a party, for whose fortune he was enforced to hazard his own, his hurt at Aumale doth testify, that being King of France he did not spare his flesh. The last of his military actions is sufficient to judge of all the former.  
His army being in the Tarentaise made show to assail a bridge, to discover the enemy's order, and to engage them in the fight. He commanded the Count of Soyssons to go thither, and perceiving the soldiers to grow warm, that the heat of the fight did draw them farther on then he would have had them, that they were angry because they might not be suffered to end the matter, he himself would go thither, contrary to the advice of his chief servants, who said, that by thrusting himself so freely into danger, he was not only careless of his own life, but of all those likewise whose safety depended upon him; that the chief duty of a General of an army was to preserve him who was to preserve all the rest. The Prince trespaseth against the public safety, which contemneth his own particular. The noblest and valiantest Grecians were those who were best armed, supposing that they who came to the wars badly armed, had no desire to fight. Their laws punished him who did forsake his target, and not his sword. The reason was that a man aught chiefly to provide for his own defence before he attempt to offend his enemy, especially those who have the government and command, of a state or army.  
But he would show, that age doth not weaken courage, that the dignity of a Crown doth not dispense a Prince from dangers, that the Laurel doth not defend him from the lightnings of war, and that he desired to have no part in the glory of encounters, unless he had a share in the danger. He mounted a horse which the Marshal Desdiguieres gave him, he went beyond the foremost to hold them back and to bring them off from the danger whither the excess of valour did carry them,  
When the enemies saw him with his truncheon in his hand, a white beard on a face fired by the heat of his courage, & the contempt of dangers, they protested that nothing could be done with more glory, gravity, judgement, nor boldness. In this action he performed three charges; that of a King, showing the authority and fortunateness of his presence: that of a Captain, ordering all matters speedily, judiciously, without disorder and without danger: and that of a soldier by being in those places where the shot of muskets and hargubuzes, were liberally bestowed.  
Let them that please, term these exploits by the name of happy rashness; blame he that list that general who being advertised of the threatenings of his death, answered, that Sparta did not depend upon one man alone: let who will magnify the opinion of those which say, that a good and discreet Captain aught to die of old-age, or at lest wise old: Praise life they that please, as the most precious gift of Heaven, which all the gold that the Sun hath made, and shall make, can never be able to buy: this Prince thought that there was nothing so great nor so generous, as the contempt of life, and that the Caesars and Alexanders would have never been crowned with so many Laurels if they had basely retired from dangers.  
As he did not respect present perils, so he did mock those which were far of, Elizabeth Queen of England advertised him that a strange Gentleman who was one of his followers had no good meaning towards his person, reason would that he should have been apprehended, or at lest dismissed. He never showed him bad countenance for it, he continued for a time well entertained in his court, mounted out of his own stable, honoured with his commandments, till his own conscience enforced him to get him thence, and no longer to abuse that royal bounty.  
This noble disposition could not believe that to be in an other man, which was not in itself, and he did never disquiet his own rest with suspicions and distrusts. Some four years since, slander did invent against a worthy Gentleman of Brettaigne, an odious and cruel accusation of treason and disloyalty, and did colour it with such strong circumstances, as were sufficient to altar the pulse and complexion of innocency itself. He was advertised thereof, and for to show that he could not distrust those whose services had deserved his trust, he called for the Gentleman, he discovered this accusation unto him, and having assured him that no impression thereof remained in him, he willed him to confer thereof with one of his principal ministers, who being amazed at this freeness and bounty in affairs of so great importance, wherein a man could not err twice, where rigour was commendable, distrust reasonable, secrecy necessary, and simple suspicions taken for accusations; after he had told him that which was past, with all circumstances and presumptions, he confessed that the kings generous disposition had no Parallel but that of great Alexander, who did receive with one hand the drink which his Physician Philip brought him, & with the other showed him the letter by which he was advertised that Darius had promised him great rewards to poison him. He was advertised at the same time that there were designs against his person, and he supposed that in such assemblies the execution thereof might be more boldly done: but if during the fury of the wars he had despised such admonishments, how could he apprehended them in time of peace? It was told him in the month of Octob. that one was come forth of a certain country with such a cursed and damnable intent, but when he was informed of the fashion of the man, and how that he had a mark on the face, a beard of such a colour, and his clothing after the Walloone cut, he said, that the advertisement was not good, and that such a man was very easy to be known.  
His trusty servants nevertheless did not give over their discovery of him: he was advertised beside of another who came conducted by the same spirit, but by another way, and was to come to Paris in in November, but he was not discovered.  
He did wholly resign himself to the will of God, believing that whatsoever he had appointed was in evitable that a man aught cheerfully to follow his destiny without fearing. He said unto those who did beseech him to have more care of his own preservation. He that shall fear death shall enterprise nothing against me. He that shall despise his own life shall make attempts on mine, and I shall not be able to hinder them: It is your parts to look to it. A life that is continually in this fear is worse than death. When I go to bed I recommend myself to GOD, and when I rise I beseech him to preserve me: the rest is in his power. He will defend me from fools, and as for wisemen I fear them not. Besides I live in such fashion as I may not enter into these distrusts; It is for Tyrants to be ever in fear & dread; valiant shepherds sleep in safety; cowards are ever fearful. That religious Numa would not distrust those who trusted to him. Magnanimous as Cesar, greater in Clemency than Caesar, is destroyed like to Caesar, for that he did more regard his great and innocent bounty than an other man's extreme fury & wickedness.  
The manner of his life, the condition of the times, the state of his affairs, the religious observation of treaties of Peace, and Edicts, would not suffer him to torment his mind with the apprehension of these attempts. The ulcers of the mind were healed, the wildest hearts were tamed, pretences amazed, discontents repaired, and enemies so changed, as they detested such conspiracies against a Prince, whose life was so fruitful and necessary for all Christendom.  
A desperate fellow borne at Negrepelisse went into Spain to prostitute himself to this damnable design, he discovered himself to one of the King of Spain's Esquires, named by the place of his birth Valdemoro. De Barraut, Ambassador there for the King, had some inkling thereof, and complained to the Pope's Nuncio, to the end he should consider the impiety of those who give ear to such monsters: The Duke of Lerma assured him that diverse of that humour had offered themselves, and were still repulsed, protesting that those impious and execrable thoughts, unworthy of the mind of a King, were not in that of his master, and that he was amazed to see a nation, which was so much praised for their fidelity and affection to their Kings, so much to degenerate, and to produce such unnatural monsters. He commanded Valdemoro to relate the whole course of that bargain to the Ambassador. Valdemoro came to him and told him; how that this wretch came unto him, boasting that he knew the means how to kill the King. It is not needful to lay open that means, unless we should do like those, who reproving superstition and enchantments, do learn the rules and charms thereof. He confessed that he had listened to that proposition, but his conscience representing unto him the heinousness of such an attempt, he had imparted the matter to a jesuit, who did very much divert him from such a cursed practice, and had exhorted him to advertise the Ambassador thereof, to the end they might have a care of the safety of the King's person.  
De Barraut advertised his Majesty hereof. He often spoke of it, he praised the wisdom of his Ambassador, the integrity of the Duke of Lerma, and the duty which the jesuit had done to truth and to his own conscience. The praise had been more perfect, and the merit more plain and evident for the Spaniards, if they had punished this traitor. He aught not to have come forth of Spain unchastised. All Kings are brothers, and all kingdoms interessed in these attempts. This act of justice was reserved for De Verdun first Precedent of Languedoc, to annex it to the other great examples which he hath showed in that Province.  
This wretch coming to Tholouse, was upon the Ambassador's advertisement apprehended. From prison he was sent to execution, and his fellow to the galleys.  
Now to continued the discourse of this generous contempt of death, it is certain, that this great confidence which this Prince chief had in the protection of God, then in his own conscience, which did not enforce him to fear his enemies, nor to distrust his own subjects, did much hasten the storm which will now presently fall upon him. If he had erected in France as many Trophies and Monuments of the severity of his justice, as wonders of his clemency, attempts would not have been so freely framed in weak spirits. The Lybian Lions do not come near those cities on whose walls their spoils are hung, Wolves fly from the sound of those drums that are made of their skins.  
It is not long since, that it pleased him to make a large discourse unto me of the dangers, which by the singular providence of God he had escaped, saying, That his pleasure was to have them remembered in his History, even as his heart did retain the acknowledgement of them, and upon his relation of his discontent, for that his Court of Parliament at Tours had condemned a man to dye, who for to escape from his enemies had promised to kill him, his heart never consenting to his mouth; I told him, that those who were to administer justice, could not use too much severity for the preservation of his person, that so many heads depended on his head, so many lives on his life, that not only consents, but thoughts, not only thoughts, but dreams to attempt against a Prince's life, were punishable, and had ever been punished.  
He continued his discourse, how that if he had sent that mad fellow to his court of Parliament, who encountered him on the new bridge, and who saying, That he was descended from the first King of France, demanded to have the Crown restored unto him, he did not doubt but that they would have put him to death for which he should have been very sorry, because they should have punished a poor Idiot, who to the first question that the Precedent janin asked him concerning his birth and qualities, replied, that he could extract himself from Pharamont. He was known (quoth the King) to be so far beside himself, and so troubled with melancholy, as I being one day at the Bastill, and he espying me a far off, cried out aloud, deliver me my kingdom. I told him madness did not excuse attempts of that nature, how Caboche, for drawing his sword upon King Henry the second like a mad man without effect and violence was condemned to dye. That another madman had undergone the like punishment who assailed Ferdinand King of Arragon the year. 1492. and gave him a wound with a sword from the ear down to the neck, who being imprisoned and tormented with all kind of tortures, confessed nothing but that the devil had willed him so to do, promising to give him Ferdinand's Crown. This folly did not excuse him. They did cut off his feet and his hands, they plucked out his eyes forth of his head, he was torn in pieces with burning tongues, his body was consumed with a lingering fire, and he gave up the ghost drop by drop. And albeit the saying is that mad men are sufficiently tormented by their own madness, and that it is not lawful to augment the affliction of the afflicted, yet nevertheless, there is nothing which doth sooner make those who are out of their wits to become temperate than the punishment which is inflicted upon them.  
The King did interrupt my speech with this word, truly royal, and truly his own, Mercy pardoneth those who have not deserved it, and the juster that wrath is, the more commendable is mercy.  
This good Prince did still endeavour to sweeten the sharpness and rigour of the commandments of his laws: and as Numa would have sooner appeased jupiter with heads of Garlic then of men, so he had rather like Alexander, execute the rigour of his vow on the Ass, then on his keeper.  
This free and generous mind disdaining all these fears and cautions, and contemning all coniurements to have respect to his own safety, would not for fear of the future, abate any thing of the time present, and being satisfied with the mishap which every day produceth without adding by prevention that of to morrow, said to the Queen, That he was resolved to go into the City, and going forward to the stairs before the Queen's chamber, he asked, if his Caroche were beneath. The villain which had undertaken this execrable deed heard these words, and grumbled betwixt his teeth, Thou art mine, thou art undone.  
Before he departed, he bade the Queen farewell three several times and kissed her, as if his heart had testified his grief to be separated and divided from hers, the Marshal of la Chastres' wife perceiving these embracements told him, that he began every day to love the Queen better and better, that his good servants did receive great content thereby, and did daily hope for more, but she hoped he did not flatter her. At his going forth he met with the Dutch esse of Mercure who was the last Princess that ever he spoke to.  
In coming down the lesser stairs he commanded the Marshal Bois Dauphin to make himself ready to go along and being come down into the Court he spoke to the Duke of Anjou and showed him Bassompier, ask him, if he knew him. He took his Caroche about three quarters of an hour past three, he sat in the chief place thereof, and having asked the Duke Espernon if he had any business in the town, he placed him on his right hand. In the boot of the same side, was the Marshal Lavardin, and de Roquelaure. The Duke of Mombason and the Marquis de la Force sat in the forepart of the Caroche with Liancour his chief Quiery, and the Marquis of Mirebeau.  
The Coachman entreated the query whose turn was then to wait, to ask the King whether he went, and he answered, Carry me from this house. Being under the Arch of the first gate, he caused his Caroche to be opened on every side; when he came as far as the hostel of Longueuill, he sent back all those which followed. They asked him once again whether the Caroche should go, he said, to the Tirover Cross and when he was there he said. Let us go to S. Innocents' Churchyard. He went to the Arsenal to acquaint the Duke of Suylli with the great content he received by D'Escures journey, and how that those doubts which he had made to him were cleared.  
And now doth mine ignorance and humility 'cause me to shut mine eyes against those radiant beams of that sovereign power which disposeth of second causes as he pleaseth. My thoughts do lose themselves in the gulfs of this inevitable power called Destiny, which this Prince accounted for an ordinance of God, drawn to a necessity, and whereof he made admirable observations. About three years since, a gentleman, one of his huntsmen, having waited out his quarter, craved leave of him to go home, intending to departed the same day. His Majesty having given him leave, he understanding that the King would hunt, stayed his journey, and said, that he had a great desire to see the Stag. He came, and saw it sonie, as being strike into the belly with on of the brauncklers, he fell down dead in the place. You may see (quoth the King, returning from hunting) what destinies is, he craved leave of me to departed, and I granted it, and having no business to stay him he would needs seek his own death by hunting. His hour was come, he was not able to bold it back a minute, thereupon he made a large discourse of such like observations.  
But when I consider how he did labour to have all things meet together with this accursed moment, how that he goeth abroad with some unwillingness of mind, which is ever the secret Oracle of good or evil adventures; how that the Queen, to divert him from going into the City, did the same as Calphurnia did to keep Caesar from going to the Senate house; how that he made haste to get him forth of the Lovuere; how that he would not suffer his Guard to follow him; how he sent away the Captain thereof to the Palace; how the Lieutenant is very sick, the Ensign go to visit the first Precedent de Harlay; how that he causeth his Caroche to be opened on every side, putteth of his cloak the better to lay open his side, how the footmen take an other way and leave the Caroche; how the street is stopped up with a Cart, I am enforced to say, that destiny coupleth together all things, to the same end, to make them fall out even as it pleaseth, that all things seem to favour this damnable enterprise, that misfortune blindeth those whom she will overthrow, and useth Pittacus his stratagem, who fight a combat with Phrinon, did so cunningly entangle him in the snares which he had hidden in his buckler, as being fast he easily slew him.  
The force of man was weak and fearful to attempt on the person of this Prince: Hell spewed forth the author from her bottomless pit. This wretch had lead a bad life, and among those who knew him, was accounted a castaway, and a desperate fellow. He had a long time followed a suit in law about a succession, and having lost it, misery enforced his father and mother to beg, necessary poverty made his resolution voluntary: He threw himself into the monastery of the Fueillants, and was thrown out again by reason of the weakness of his brain. Those who lodged him told me since that he was wholly subverted, and that the word Huguenot would turn his folly into madness. His mind was still amazed, wavering and superstitious, susceptible of all impressions, and ever resenting the depravation of his humours. He that walketh mad a mile never cometh home wise. The more his folly was apparent the more he thought it was hidden, and the duller he was the more he presumed of wisdom, and not accounting himself to be sick, he did not care for health, Afterwards he returned home into his own country where he continued a whole year in prison for a murder. He become a knave in the Palace, a fool in the cloister, and desperate in prison, in which place he had vizions and fancies, whereon, and upon the false reports which he went up and down gathering against the King's justest and sincerest actions, or upon those false impressions which were given him, and which he greedily received, he framed this execrable and damnable resolution to kill him. His courage would not suffer him to execute it so suddenly as he had resolved it: he did three whole years nourish the vipers of his thoughts in his bosom; he was afraid of it, & confessed, that at the very first motion his hair stood upright, that sweated dropped down from his forehead, and a shaking over all his members. In this fury he made some journeys from Angoulesme to Paris, the last was in the Easter-hollidayes, intending to execute his purpose, but he would first have the Qu. to be crowned, because (as he said) he would not have her to be deprived of so just and well-deserved an honour. If he had stayed but one day longer, want would have enforced him to have go home again; for he had but three quartescus left of all his money.  
Resolving then not to let this cursed day slip without executing his cruel design; he did drink more freely than he was wont, and continued a long time at the Lowre, sitting on the stones at the gate, where the Laqueis attend for their Masters. He thought to have given the blow betwixt the two gates: the place where he stood gave him some advantage, but he found the Duke Espernon to sit in that place where he thought the King would have been, and cutting a shorter way, he tarried for him at one of the little shops which are towards the Innocents' Churchyard, in the street called La Ferronnerie. In that street are many small houses and shops which join to the wall of the Innocents' Churchyard. King Henry the second being at Compeigne the year 1554. the 14. of May, a fatal mark of the first year, and last day of this great Prince's life, considering that this street was a cross way in the City of Paris, and the King's ordinary passage from the castle of Lower to their house of Tournelles, and that the shops made it more narrow and uneasy, he commanded that they should be taken down. The Edict was allowed in Parliament, and the execution neglected to our woe. This wretch sweeting and in a heat, glides along by these shops.  
At the entry into the street, the King saw Montigni in his Caroche, and according to his usual affability, culled unto him, Servant Montigni, Servant Montigni. The Caroche entering into this street met with two carts on the right hand, the one loaden with wine, the other with hay: and that was the cause, that it took towards the left hand, staying still and stopping every moment. The footmen were go over Saint Innocents' Churchyard; the Gentlemen could not come near the Caroche, divers men passed along betwixt the Caroche and the shops; this Tiger came the same way, his cloak hanging on the left shoulder, the knife in his hand, and his hat upon it to hide it. The Kings sitting embouldened him. If his face had not been from him, I think that the reverence and majesty which Gods finger hath imprinted on the face of Kings would have kept him back. His right arm was about Duke espernon's neck, unto whom he had given a paper to read, his left arm leaned on the Duke Mombasons shoulder, who turned away his head because he would not seem too curiously to harken to that which the King spoke softly: For he gave himself forward to speak to the Duke of Espernon, and the Marshal Lavardin these words. At my return from the Arsenal, I will show you D'Escures his design for the passage of mine Army, you will be pleased therewith, and it hath much contented me.  
At these words, this fury perceiving that the King lay open with all his side, and that one of the footmen, who alone might have hindered him, tarried behind to tie his garter, gave him two stabs with a knife over the wheel, & thought to have given him more, but the Duke of Mombason received the third on his doublet sleeve. The first stab was betwixt the second and third rib, a finger's breadth gliding under the muscle pectoral, not hurting the Thorax. The second a little lower in the midst of the side betwixt the fifth and sixth rib the breadth of two fingers and past beyond one of the lippets of the lungs, even to the very artery, the which he did cut a sunder beneath the left auricle of the heart. The King feeling the first hurt, did lift up his arm, and gave more overture to the second. It was perceived afterwards that the outward part of his doublet sleeve toward the hand, was stricken through in two places, and his shirt in three by reason it was folded and this confirmeth the murderers speech, who said to divers, that he had given three stabs, but one alone did the deed.  
At the first the King said, I am hurt, but the second followed so suddenly as he could hardly make an end of this word, It is nothing. For the blood ran forth of his mouth like streams. Duke Espernon presently ariseth to lift him up, and besought him to think upon God. He clasped his hands together and lifted up his eyes towards Heaven. His soul bathed in the blood of the innocent lamb who was slain from the beginning of the world doth gently leave this body, reeking with blood of wounds innocently received.  
The Caroche stood still: the way was stopped, the street full of people, all things in amazement, and the Coachman so affrighted, as he could neither go forward nor backward. Saint Michael, one of his ordinary Gentlemen, drew his sword upon this wretch, to have slain him, the Duke Espernon cried out, that he should not touch him, that it was as much as his life was worth, and that the King had no harm. He drew the knife forth of his hand. The Count of Curson struck him on the throat with the pommel of his sword. La Pierre, one of the exempt Captains of the guards, seized on him, and delivered him into the hands of the footmen, who committed him to Montigni. De Liancour came forthwith out of the Caroche, and went to the townhouse to take order for that which belonged to his charge. Others went to look to the safety of my Lord the Dauphin. The Baron of Courtomer by a letter written by his own hand, hath assured me, that at the same instant, and in the same street, the Marquis of la Force requested him to go to the Arsenal to advertise the Duke of Suilly of that accident, that going thitherwards he met with eight or ten men on foot, and two on horseback, who saying to themselves with blasphemies; He must dye, went forward toward this Tiger to assail him: that he went before them with his drawn sword, and crossing their weapons, told them that the King was well, and had commanded that no man should hurt him. The first Precedent being advertised hereof, sent his son the Count of Beaumond unto him, to demand whether he could tell what manner of men they were, he answered that they were lost in the throng, and that in such a matter he aught not to propound any incertainty.  
This lamentable and perfidious stab was given so suddenly as no man perceived it, the confusion was so great, that if this monster had thrown away his knife from him, he would not have been known in that amazement, for it was common: nor by the paleness of his countenance, for he confessed, that he entered the King's body as easily as into a bottle of hay. At that instant the devil took from him all sorts of apprehensions, of respect, and judgement.  
After that the Caroche was turned back, the King was carried to the Lowre. At the entering into the Court, they called for wine and Chyrurgians, but there was no need either of the one or other. The report of the hurt was already brought thither, but his death was not known till the coming of the Caroche, out of which they drew the dead King. He was carried and laid upon the bed of the little Cabinet by the Duke of Mombason, de Vitry, the Marquis of Nermonstier, Sully one of the Squires, and certain others whose names I could not learn.  
Petit his chief Physician told me, that he gave not up the ghost till he was laid upon the bed, and that he having said unto him, Sir, remember God, say in your heart, jesus thou son of David have pity upon me, he opened his eyes thrice: Another Gentleman told me the same thing. But it is to be doubted whether the nature of the hurt did afford him so much life, without being strangled with the blood. De Vic, Councillor of State, going up with the Chancellor and the other Lords of the council, was there present, and tarried there all the night, showing by that last duty, with what affection he had carried all the former. The Archbishop of Ambrun came thither, said the prayers and suffrages of the Church for his soul's health.  
It is reported that a Duke of Bourgondy had like to have died for fear at the sight of the nine Worthies which a Magician showed him. Grief had like to have choked in the place, those who in the turning of an hand did see this King of worthies lie dead.  
Albeit that I saw his shirt bloody, his stomach swelled with the abundance of blood, his forehead beginning to wax yellow, his eyes shut, his mouth open, the cross of his order lying upon it, it seemed unto me that it was an illusion, mine imagination contradicting mine eyes, being not able to figure unto me that I saw him dead, who an hour before spoke of nothing but to fight, vanquish, and triumph.  
I said as other men did, is this that victorious Prince unto whom the whole world hath given the title of Great and Invincible: who by removing himself gave motion to the whole world, whose designs elevated & discontents abated men's courages, whose menaces affrighted his enemies, & laws assured his subjects? This Prince who sustained Christendom in her weaknesses, did comfort it in her afflictions, assured it in her fears, who by the force of his wit, by the light of his judgement, by the happiness of his memory, by the proof of his experience, and by these three eyes of prudence, knowledge, foresight, & remembrance, knew how to do, and did so well perform the hardest profession of all others, which is that of commanding men.  
This Prince, so constant in affairs, so watchful for occasions, so foreseeing in doubtful matters, so moderate in prosperous, so discreet in difficult, who was never daunted in fight, was not troubled in dangers, & did not give place to fortune, who knew what aught to be feared and contemned, what was to be desired and sought after. This Prince who did reason to all men, who would know it in all things, so ready to divert evil and advance good, environed with all kinds of contentments, with glory and felicity aspiring to great matters, for the increase of God's glory, the reputation of France, determining to reform that which was yet in disorder, to mend those great pieces of works which are equal to the proudest buildings, which have carried the name of wonders, and evident works; and resolving to cause learning and knowledge to reflorish in the university of Paris, and Piety every where, the Great Henry unto whom the destinies, merits, and virtues, did promise' the Monarchy of the whole world, dieth upon the point of executing his promises. All the Princes, the Cardinals, the Prelates and the Lords of the Court came to see him upon the bed of his Cabinet; one kissed his forehead, another his hand, divers fell down at his feet, all melted into tears. The Constable came thither likewise, and did much augment the sorrow of that spectacle, for complaining unto God that he had suffered him to live so long and had taken away a Prince so necessary for Christendom, his speech & legs failed him. Their hearts were cleft a sunder with complaints, their eyes melted into tears, perceiving those eyes to be for ever extinct, which were the delights of all the Court, whose beams were so ardently and carefully desired and pursued as diverse thought they had lost that day wherein they had not deserved some glance thereof.  
Portraiture in times past could not represent the sorrow of a father for the sacrifice of his daughter, eloquence could not express the Queen's grief for the death of the King her husband. If that be not the subject of most just tears nature hath none, sorrow findeth none, reason ordaineth none.  
But after that eyes had paid such just tribute to grief, and that this Princess had spent nine nights without sleeping, to give satisfaction to her tears, and to keep this mischief from spreading forth any further, she showed that God had reserved her to claim the violence of our miseries.  
By this will we begin the History of her Regency, and of the King her sons reign, where we shall see how their Majesties entertained these disastrous news, and with what greatness of courage, affection and fidelity, they were served by the Princes and officers of the Crown, Lords of the Council, Governors of Provinces, and by the City of Paris, and by all the rest, where matters have passed on in such sort, as France hath had matter to be amazed in her amazement.  
These discourses are like pieces forth of frame, if they be represented out of time. All this merits a new volume: The History of Henry the fourth passeth no farther than his last gasp, and where that endeth, there beginneth that of Lewis the thirteenth, the most happy son of a father, who was the ornament of ages past, and the admiration of succeeding times.  
But it is against reason to put off till an other time the duties which were rendered to the greatness of his memory, to the honour of his burial, to the revenge of his death.  
His History began at his Cradle, it must end at his hearse. Upon Friday at midnight the King's body being disrobed of a black satin suit razed, without lace, was revested with a white satin doublet, and laid upon the bed of his chamber, where he was seen, considered, wept for, and lamented by all the City of Paris. The heat of the season, and the blood which was gathered together in his belly would not permit any longer to defer his opening. It was done on Saturday about four of clock, in the presence of fourteen of the king's Physicians, of whom the chief were, Petit, Milon, de Dorme, Herovan, four Physicians of Paris, eleven of the King's Chirurgeons Martel, Pigray, Guillemeau, Regnaude, etc. They found, him so healthful, and all his parts so sound, as had not this stab been he might have attained to a long and happy old age. They were likewise of opinion, that if he had been trrasparent to the view of this parricide, he could not have hurt him in a more deadly place. His bowels were sent to Saint Denis, by one of the guard, with six soldiers, and buried without any ceremony.  
The King's heart was shut up in an heart of silver. La Varenne, governor of Angiers, and Postmaster of France, came to the Queen to put her in mind, that the King's intention was, to have it lie at la Flesche, where it was first form; and to commit the keeping thereof to the College of Iesuists. At this word, of the king's heart, the Queen received a new wound in her own, it being impossible that a wife should without grief endure to have her husband's heart demanded of her: She answered that seeing God had done his will, her desire was to have the Kings performed, she commanded that the same heart should be consigned into the hands of the father jesuits, to carry it to la Flesche, and gave charge of the conduct thereof to the Duke of Mombason. The Prince of Conty delivered it Father jaquinot, Rector of the professed house of Saint Lewis: Father Cotton gave thanks in the name of the whole company. De Vitry caused four and twenty Archers to march near to the Caroche, and twelve torches, even to their Church wherein this precious pawn remained certain days. From thence it was carried well accompanied, and received with great pomp and magnificence into the town of la Flesche, by La Varenne, his son the Baron of Saint Susanne, all the orders of the City, and after sundry honours, discourses and funeral Poems, it was set down in the church of the jesuits college  
The King's body being embalmed was laid in a coffin of lead, covered with a bier of wood, upon which was spread a great cloth of gold, and the Hearse over that; two Altars upon each side, where eighteen days together masses were said in the morning, and the suffrages at all hours, day and night, without intermission.  
Prayers were made for him in all the Churches of France. Those whose doctrine suppose it to be unprofitable for the dead, were not insensible of the public grief of this accident, for, judging it to be an effect of God's anger upon France, did ordain thorough all the Provinces where they have Churches, a General fast, whose laws dispense with no man, and it is performed with such discipline, as the bodies endure hunger all the day, and the souls are fed, either in speaking to God, or hearing his word.  
From the Chamber it was carried to the Presence, where was yielded to his effigy, at dinner and supper times, the services due to the original when it was living. Hereupon the Queen was counseled to enter King Henry the third, King of France and Poland, and to yield unto him those duties which the living own to the dead, and which for sundry great respects had not been performed in their due time. The Duke of Espernon, Bellegard master of the horse, were commanded to go to Compeigne, to 'cause the coffin to be brought to S. Denis. The discourse of his funeral shall be seen in the end of his history. We must not make a story here, but only to consider, how that France in eight days space, hath seen two Kings interred, unjustly and perfidiously slain by two stabs of a knife.  
Eight days after, the funeral pomp was solemnized. The enterments of the French Kings, since Charles the eight, have ever held one self same order, he that seethe the picture of the one, beholdeth that of all the rest, there is nothing to be added thereunto, but the noting of times and places, and men's names. If in it there hath been any alteration at all, it is only in more or less sumptuousness. But as this great Prince did in so many sorts surpass his predecessors, the Queen likewise would have his obsequies in expense and magnificence, to outgo all that had been before.  
The effigy having remained ten or twelve days in the presence, for the manner is not to let it stay there any longer, was taken thence, the body laid upon Trestles, and the Chamber hung with black. The King clothed with a royal mantle of purple, came thither with my Lords his brethren, the Princes of his blood, and the Lords of the Court, and besprinkled it with holy-water. The Sovereign companies performed the same ceremony on other days.  
The Chancellor with the advice of the Council decreed that in the proclamation he should be surnamed, Henry the great, Incomparable in Magnanimity and Clemency. Titles which he had deserved, as well for the quality of his person, as for the favours of his fortunes, and the merits of his virtues.  
That great extent of persons and honours, which reached from the gate of Paris to that of Saint Denis, may as well be comprehended by imagination as discourse, if we will figure to ourselves great numbers of burning torches, five hundred poor persons, divers lame soldiers clad in black, and if we add thereunto all the Clergy of Paris, for all Congregations regular and secular went along the Chartreux & the Celestins exepted. The jesuits presented themselves to go with it. All the Sovereign companies, the ordinary justice of Paris, all the faculties of the university. The household, the Milicia, and the King's Stable. All this was the convoy.  
That which followeth, was ordained for the pomp. The Chariot of arms drawn with six horse, wherein lay the King's body. His effigy environed with the Court of Parliament in scarlet gowns, the Canopy carried over it by the Provost of Merchants and Sheriffs of the city of Paris. The hand of justice, the Sceptre, and Crown. The King's Armour was carried, the Sword sheathed, the Helm crested with the Mantelet, the coat Armour, Shield, Gauntlet, Spurs, the Pennons, Banners and Ensigns of all the companies cresped with black. The horse of honour, twelve horses mounted by twelve Pages. The Bishops, Archbishops, Ambassadors and Cardinals.  
After followed the mourning, wherein were my Lord the Prince of Conty, my Lord the Count of Soyssons, the Lords of Guise, Ioinuille, Elbaeuf, the Dukes of Espernon, and Mombason, the Knights of the order, and diverse Lords. At other times the King's Children did mourn. The body of Clotaire was conducted by his four Children from Compeigne to Soisons, Lewis the gross, yielded that duty to Philip the first, his brother. Lewis the 8. to Philip Augustus, Philip the 3. to Lewis 9 Charles the 5. to john. Charles Duke of Orleans, and Henry Duke of Anjou, mourned at the obsequies of Henry the second their father.  
The Ceremonies which upon such occasions aught to be certain, are altered according to the times. That which seemeth to be fit in one season, is not so at another. Because saith Du Tillet, that they have not any certainty. At other times the effigy was laid upon the coffin, to move the people to honour the body which was within it, and for to show that the King dieth not; and that the administration of justice, the first and principal office of a King ceaseth not, the court of Parliament hath ever environed it. At the Funeral of King Francis the first it was divided from the coffin, and from that separation proceedeth the disputation concerning the place which the Bishop of Paris is to hold in that Ceremony,  
On Tuesday the 29. of june, the Coffin was conducted to our Lady's Church, and placed under the burning Chapel. The Princes of the blood, and the Lords that mourned sat down on the right side of the Quire, the court of Parliament placed itself on the left. On wednesday after the service, the funeral oration being pronounced by the Bishop of Air, and dinner ended, it was conducted in the same order to Saint Denis. Beyond the suburb the ranks were broken, those that were on foot mounted their horses and Caroches, this grave and goodly order vanished. Montespan, Vitry, and Pralin, Captains of the Guards, did not leave the chariot of arms, having declared that their charge obliged them to serve the body and not the effigy.  
The Monks of Saint Denis came to receive it at the hanging cross, they made some doubt that the King was buried, and that the body was not in the coffin, the great and excessive heat not permitting to keep him any longer in his Chamber, where it was soon known that he had not been well embalmed. Vitry assured them that it was the king's very body, that there was no deceit, and that the greatest Kings are made of none other metal than the meanest men on earth.  
The Ceremony needed no borrowed weepers, nor hired tears. Every one did afford them with abundance, those which had not their eyes full of tears, had their hearts void of pity and commiseration. Sorrows were strangely redoubled and broke forth into great cries, as he was laid into the grave with the honours that were done unto it. When the Count Saint Paul, executing in that action the office of great master, told them that the King was dead, and when after him the Heralds thrice proclaimed over the grave The King is dead, all hearts followed him in thought and many in desire. Tears, which constancy and gravity held in, that they might not appear, were no less bitter than those which common grief did cast forth to be seen. If any one had strength to resist tears, it was wanting to fight with sorrow.  
To tell now what the lamentation of Paris was, is to go about to persuade a matter incredible to him that hath not seen it; in all places fountains of tears were discerned to flow forth; in all places cries & groanings of the people were heard▪ they seemed to be knocked down, so greatly had the violence of sorrow daunted and amazed them. If it be demanded from whence this extreme grief came, the answer is ready From love, From whence this love? from the King's goodness. Paris beareth the immortal proofs of his great and immense goodness. Who did more offend him then Paris? unto whom hath he showed more love than to Paris? Forgetting all his riots and debauches, he taketh Paris, sets it at liberty, dealeth by those like a Father, who before his entrance called him Tyrant. Since than he hath still laboured to restore her ruins, and to 'cause it to forget both the remembrance and feeling thereof, to the end it might say, that it had been plunged in a gulf of miseries, only to come forth thereof more happy and more mighty.  
Paris did never more flourish then under his reign, having in that City builded other Cities to embellish and enrich it. If I were assured (said he) of as much time as would suffice me for two great pieces of work, I would build the Lovure, and enclose the Suburbs of Paris with walls, and then I would vaunt to have built the goodliest House, and the greatest City in the world.  
All other Cities, in comparison of Paris, seemed unto him but Pyes-nests, and held for a fable whatsoever was spoken of Quinzey, grand Cairo, Cambalu, and Cassagale.  
He took a pride in showing to strangers the wealth, and the public and particular commodities of this abridgement of the world, and took no delight in new inventions to charge it. Goodly and Royally ingenious was the answer which he made to the Provost of Merchants and Sheriffs of Parts, who besought him to allow of some small tax upon the conduit-pipes of the City, to help them to bear the charge of feasts and presents which they were to make to the forty deputies of the Swisses and their train. He heard them concerning this new invention, and then answered. Find out some other matter, it belongeth only to JESUS CHRIST to turn water into wine.  
When men spoke of the insolences and riots of that City during the troubles, he had rather to lay the fault on those that led them, then to brand his forehead with the shame of her sedition and disobedience. The people of Paris (said he) is good, it goeth as it is led. Mischief cometh from those that go before, and not from their simplicity which follow after, and grow bad by infection.  
These torrents of tears did overflow the whole country, It was pity to behold thorough all the Provinces of France the poor country-people to be gathered together in troops on the high ways all amazed, their arms folded, to learn of those that passed by this disastrous news, and when that they were assured thereof, a man might see them to scatter themselves like sheep without a shepherd, not simply weeping, but crying out and roaring as madmen about the fields. This sorrow sprang from this Prince's care to have them live in peace.  
He was extremely displeased with the exactions which the poor people endured by usury and petti-fogging by law; He was not insensible of their miseries: He did not bear them as the high Priest did the names of the twelve Tribes without, he had them imprinted in the bottom of his heart, with a wonderful discontent for that the necessity of his affairs would not permit to ease them; and considering on a time that the taxes were excessive in sundry places of the kingdom he said, my people are made to pay a double tax, one to Me and another to my Officers. The second makes the first insupportable, for the expenses of the officers amount to more than the tax; It is a hard matter to keep myself unrobd, and almost impossible but that my people should be so: When he road about the country, he would stay to speak to the people, to question with those that passed by, whence they came, whether they went, what commodities they carried, what the price of every thing was, with other particularities; and observing that it seemed unto divers, that this popular facility did offend his Kingly gravity, he said, The Kings my predecessors held it dishonour to know the worth of a Teston, but as for me, I would I knew the value of a farthing, and with how much labour these poor people use to get it; to the end they might not be charged above their ability.  
The great numbers of Orations and Funeral Poems which were made in sundry places upon his death, are so many proofs how dear this Prince's life was, and his loss lamentable to the whole world.  
The University of Paris hath showed itself to be the Nurse of gallant wits, the Queen of Europe's Athens. The Schools and Academies of those of the Religion have produced divers goodly and excellent writings in sundry Languages upon the same subject: learned men of foreign Countries have not been silent in this general affliction.  
As this great Kings actions have ever been more admired then followed, more followed then equalled: even so have we seen discourses thereupon, which can neither be surmounted nor imitated.  
If passion did not carry away matters with the self same hatred that it beareth to the places and persons from whence they come, it would allow of that which is publicly rehearsed in a common wealth which hath not breathed but under this Prince's protection, deserveth to be reckoned among the rarest and excellentest pieces. But his triumph needeth not our laurels, his memory contemneth our marbles, his merits surpass our discourses, his happiness derideth our Complaints, and his thoughts are not ours. The report of this death was forthwith spread over all the world, and did outgo the accident in sundry places.  
This is not the first time that these terrible blows have been sooner published then felt. diverse Kings of Christendom entertained these news with sorrow, all with amazement, having but too much subject to deplore their misery, whom they accounted so happy. It hath been a stratagem of nature, to bring forth men incapable of reason, for if they had any they would never accept the entrance into this world. If the souls of great Princes knew their fortunes and dangers, and lastly the violent deaths whereunto their bodies are subject, they would never animate them. If they had any choice, they would sooner enter into those of shepherds; to be if not more happy, at lest more contented.  
The King of England had the first news thereof being on hunting. His feeling was such, as he presently dispatched messengers to his Council at London, and maintained that words were not capaple to express his grief, adding this verse in Latin, which saith, That light griefs speak, and great ones are dumb. He renewed the Edicts against the Catholics, and fearing lest the ceremony of the declaration of the Prince of Wales might be disturbed by some sinister accident, he commanded them not to come within ten miles of the assembly, and Priests to departed forth of the Realm.  
Before then, he had sent the King word by De Vitry, that he desired to oblige himself to him by a reciprocal and solemn oath, that the children of him that should first dye, should remain in the survivors protection, who should take upon him the defence of them and their states towards all men, and against all men, he remembered it, did make a new oath to keep his word, and to employ all his means to revenge the death of so good a brother, and so great a King.  
All the feelings of Princes were but shadows compared to the sorrow and complaints of the Duke of Savoy: He lost both his rest and diet, and held that for a piercing and sensible offence which the Spanish Ambassador said unto him: That of a certain, God did love the house of Savoy; for without this death, the Duke had been ruined.  
The Pope could not sleep all that night; he prayed for the soul of this great Prince; said that this loss was common to the Church, and to all Christendom; he caused certain young men to be condemned to the Galleys, who thinking that this death would free their Prince and Country of a redoubted enemy, had termed that Parricide their Restorer, and had drunk to his health.  
He felt to the quick the Queen's sorrow, and the wrong which was done to the King, he did forthwith dispatch letters to the principal officers of the kingdom, to conjure them to continued towards the son those proofs of love and fidelity which they had rendered to the father. And though Popes are seldom present at Funerals, he would needs be there, and heard the Funeral Oration pronounced by jaques Seguier, who gave unto this great Prince the true titles of his virtues and merits, styling him, Protector of the public tranquillity; The ornament of the Catholic Church, the Umpire of Christian Princes, the Delight of the world. An Elegy which not satisfying the Pope's love, he sent him word, that he had not said enough.  
The King of Spain was suddenly awaked when this news was brought him, & not knowing what it was, demanded, if the king had denounced war against him: he will never do it, for he is slain, answered the marquis of Velada. At that word he said, being pressed with truth and sorrow, That the greatest Captain of the world was dead, he remained for a time speechless, and the Queen wept with warm tears. When he understood that he which had done the deed was in prison and alive, he praised God for it, to the end that they might be known who had set him a work, and that slander might not prevail over the innocent,  
The Archduke resolving to give him all kind of content, being assured that the storm should not fall upon his Countries, unless he did provoke him, did not in his private sorrow disemble the public loss. That generous Princess borne of a flower de luce of France, did more clearly evaporate the fire of her thoughts, and said, That Christendom had lost the glory and ornament of Kings.  
The Kings of Poland, Suevia and Denmark, bewailed his death, cherishing his Pictures with an eternal love, and recommending to their children the admiration and imitation of the heroic actions of his life.  
The Emperor's domestic discontents did not keep back this sorrow from entering into his solitude, nor himself from considering whereunto worldly greatnesses do tend. The going up to them is sharp and slippery, the top trembling, the downfall fearful, we ascend to them with great difficulty, they cannot be kept but with fear, and the descent from them is a Precipice. The Princes of Germany said, That the burning torch of Kings was extinct: He was lamented and bewailed by the Swisses, and by the States of the Netherlands, as a Father by his Orphan children. The Lords of Venice, said with tears in their eyes, Our King is dead.  
We cannot express the grief of other Countries, which sweetly lived at quiet under the shadow of the victories and prosperities of this great Prince, and which were covered under his protection, as the Chicken pursued by the Kite covereth itself under the wing of the dam. The great Turks accounted all Christian Princes but dung, they think nothing to be worthy to be equalled with them. It was wondered that Mahomet endured the comparison betwixt himself and Mathias Coruin, but as Amurath and Mahomet have admired the great and warlike actions of this Prince, even so Acmet their successor having notice of this death, thought that the Column which upheld the Christian Empire was dead.  
We have already heretofore observed, how that the report of his death, did in diverse places forerun the certainty thereof. D' Arsens Ambassador to the States told me, that he could produce before the Queen, hundreds of persons, who affirmed this report to he published in Flanders before the arrival of the Posts. I have heard the Queen say, That her jeweller had received letters from thence, written at the same time, whereby he was entreated to writ back whether it were true that the King was slain. The report oftentimes of these great accidents are spread abroad among the people without any certain Author, and when we go about to seek out the cause, they are lost among the throng like waves in a vast sea.  
Demons and Sorcerers do undertake to bring speedy news from far. The late King hath often told the tale of a spirit belonging to a footman of an Earl of Foix, who perceiving that his Master could not sleep, being troubled with the incertainty of the success of a matter either of some siege or battle, did on a sudden bring him all the particularities thereof, so as this Prince, without stirring from his house at Coraze, (where this spirit is yet to be heard), knew whatsoever was done over all Europe. In this manner did Apollonius Thyaneus, see at Ephesus how Domitian was slain at Rome, and Cajus Cornelius tarrying in Milan was at the battle of Pharsalia.  
This doth not exclude the beleeefe of the truth of Visions and Revelations which God giveth to his servants, nor of the care which the Angels have that are appointed guardians and defenders of states, to 'cause people to know these great and important motions. The Christians in Palestine, had notice of the resolution of relief which the Christian princes had promised them upon the very same day that the decree was concluded in the council of Clermont.  
This is memorable. A secular priest of Douai, who, for his religious and holy life, hath merited the common report to have died happily, had before his death three extacies: after the two first he spoke of things, which, because they were not understood, were not considered; being come again to himself from the third as from a profound rapture, he cried out, that they were kill the greatest Monarch of the Earth. It is observed that this word was spoken at the very same time that the stab with the knife was given,  
We must go on no farther without astonishment, because that on the very same fourteenth day of May, which shall ever be marked with black in the Calendars of France, a Nun of the Abbey of Saint Paul in Picardy, sister to Villers-hodan Governor of deep, being not very well, was visited in her chamber by her abbess, sister to the Cardinal Sourdy, and after that they had entertained one an other with discourses fit for their condition she cried out without any trouble, or such agitations and fear proper to Enthusiasts, Madam, pray unto God for the King, for they are kill him, and within a while after, Alas, he is dead! By conferring the words with the deed, it was found that all this was done in one hour, The piety and simplicity of this Nun, doth not permit this to be referred to any other power than that of God, who causeth his servants to see things a far off, as though they were present.  
This manner of death, so sudden, so smally prevented did amaze the whole world, every man thought upon his conscience, and divers Lords of the Court by putting on mourning habit for this death, did likewise take upon them the resolutions of the contempt of this life, and said for a while, that which a great Trumpet of the Church said ever, OH life, which hast deceived so many, Seduced so many, blinded so many, thou art nothing at thy beginning, thy light is but a shadow, thou art but smoke at thy height, thou art sweet to fools, thou art bitter to wise men, who loveth thee knows thee not, who knoweth thee contemns thee.  
The great ones who all their life long run after the dreams and vapours of the world, whose thoughts are wholly anchored upon the earth, and their hopes have no farther extent than the earth, did in the picture of this death behold that of the vanity of their greatness and ambition, things so vain and frail, as when they seem to glister and twinkle like Diamonds, they vanish from our sight, and break themselves in pieces like glass.  
Their spirits being touched with this death as with an Adamant, should without ceasing turn towards the firm and fixed Pole of that truth,  
That whatsoever is under Heaven is nothing but vanity, and that the world passeth away with his covetousness. The report of this accident was a mighty voice, which awaked them, to make them consider, that the earth is not their dwellingplace, but the passage to an happier abode: that the pleasures, delights, and contentations of the Palaces wherein they devil in this world, do oblige them to take care to be well lodged in an other, because it is irksome to departed forth of a fair and goodly house, and to enter for ever into a foul and loathsome cottage.  
It resteth now to see how public justice, being transgressed by this enormous crime, hath been satisfied by the vile and wretched sacrifice of this Parricide. By and by after this mischief, the Queen sent the Precedent janin, Lomenie, Secretary of State, & the Bullion, Councillor of State, to the House of Raiz, to examine him, and to know what would follow this detestable blow. What he then told them was the self-same that he afterwards spoke, and their censure was the same of all other wisemen, who have held this wretch for a melancholic fellow; They made a show that the King was not dead, nor his hurt mortal, supposing with more ease to draw from him the truth of this instigation, and that the lesser the mischief was, the easier would be the confession: but he told them, That he knew well enough that he was dead. A while before, he had said, That the knife entered so far into him, as his fist touched the King's doublet.  
They found certain Papers about him, and among others, verses for one that is to be carried to execution: he said that an Apothicary of Angoulesme made them, who had showed it him to have his opinion thereof, because that he had used to make verses. I noted that he had written it with passion and attention, as if he did mean to make use of it himself, for the words which he did set down for the last violent leaps of a soul in that taking, were written more curiously, and in different letters from the other, and because he said that he had ever been desirous to tell the King that he aught to make war upon those of the Religion, they asked him, who had given him that counsel; he answered, that they were not to know it, and that he would tell it to his Confessor. This I have seen in the original. I saw him within a while after in the hostel of Raiz, where telling me that he had been a Fueillan, and that he was expulsed from that company for composing writings concerning certain visions and meditations upon God's judgements.  
I than perceived that melancholy had troubled his spirits with her fumes, had made him capable of diabolical suggestions and impressions, that torture would sooner make trial of his obstinacy, then enforce his conscience.  
He had imprinted in his imagination a belief clean contrary to the King's piety and justice. He had in times before been called in question for a murder, and Sanguine, Councillor in the court of Parliament, had drawn his process. Thereupon, an other councillor told him, that it had been good for him & all France that he had been punished for it, for than he should not have slain the Lords anointed and the most Christian King. He answered. It is a Question to know whether he were the most Christian king. From the time that this cursed resolution was framed in his mind he did (like the viper) convert into poison whatsoever he heard to be well spoken of this Prince.  
Many, having judiciously considered his manners and motions, have thought that those visions which had so much troubled him in his sleep and waking, the interior voices which affrighted him day and night, and a number of other violent impulsions were manifest tokens of the obsession of the Devil. A fellow that often lay with him said, That a spirit did awake and torment him in the night, and when he was asked who it was, he answered, It is mine Uncle which craveth some ease of his pains.  
He had beside his disposition to such fooleries, a proud and furious conceit of wit above all other men, an arrogant presumption to have a share in God's councils, to be able to decipher his wills, and to be chosen to execute them. Thereupon he did brutishly declaim against higher powers, and said, that it was necessary they should be chastised. From this damnable Thesis, That it was lawful to kill a Tyrant, he went on to this false hypothesis, that the King was worse, and his chief tyranny was, for that he would not make war upon the Huguenots, which is as much to say, as, because he did not kill them, to make them to believe, and did not set his kingdom on fire, to cleanse it. It is certain that in this deluge of words, and among so many slanderous speeches, which he uttered, Truth, nor his own Conscience would not permit him to call the King a Tyrant. Whatsoever he spoke against the life of this Prince was inspired into his soul, by the same council that had practised his death, He that did the first murder told the first lie.  
But it was impossible to persuade the people but that this blow had some other setter on then the Devil, and to be certain thereof they impatiently desired that this Schelme (France hath no word horrible enough to express so many abominations) might be delivered over to the Parliament, that in so extraordinary a matter there was no need to stand scrupulously upon all the ordinary forms, that all his kindred were to be seized upon, with all those whom he had conferred with, and that forthwith the truth would be known.  
But those high spheres do not govern their motions by that of the inferior.  
On Saturday, the xv. of May at night he was brought to the Conciergery of the palace. The first Precedent du Harley, the Precedent de Blasmenil, the councillors Boin and Courtin, did diligently and exactly labour to frame his Process. The Queen did oftentimes sand the Marquis of Anchor to acquaint them more confidently with her intentions, and how desirous she was to have the truth known. She sent them word, how that a Butcher had offered to slay that wretch alive, promising, to 'cause him to hold out a long time, and to reserve strength enough in him to endure the execution after that his skin should be flayed off.  
The Court imputed this proposition to the zeal of a great Princess, who would have the whole world to know, that justice had omitted nothing for the reparation of that public offence, nor for the discovery of the branches and springs thereof. It did commend the affection of a widow, pierced thorough with grief, who pursued the just revenge of her husband's death, and the care of a charitable mother that feared for the King her son, not thinking, but that if this blow was devised for the father, the like was meant towards the Princes his children.  
Her Majesty supposing that if this wretch could be brought to repent him of his crime, he would more freely declare who had set him on to do it: thought it fit that he should be visited by Doctors and religious persons, who should so dispose his soul, as it might apprehended eternal torments rather than temporal.  
diverse particular persons spoke to him in the Conciergery and unto all of them he told one tale, how that no man living had concelled or urged him there unto.  
He that should take upon him to set down all his speeches upon this subject, with all the escapes of his fury and madness, might augment this volume with superfluities: we must keep ourselves to his answers before his judges, who have observed that (his brutish speeches against higher powers excepted) in all other matters he was ignorant and blockish.  
The question was not of knowing who had committed the mischief, but who had counseled and willed it to be done, Seruin, Le Bret, the King's Advocates, Duret the first substitute to the Attorney General, did therein use whatsoever wisdom, judgement and sharpness of wit might conceive. They called before them all those with whom the offender had conferred, they examined two jacobins, and finding great sincerity and simplicity in them, sent them away. They used a young Friar with the same gentleness, of whom the offender had asked this question. Whether a Penetenciary aught to reveal the confession of one, who should tell him that he had been tempted to kill a King: This young Friar, either through insufficiency or amazement, made him no answer. They delivered him over to his superiors, wishing them to use means, if, by the form of Regular discipline, they could draw any farther light from him; and because the jacobins said, that upon the same question they had sent him to father Aubigni the Iesuist, who was a man much used in the resolutions of cases of conscience, they sent for him likewise, and examined him exactly thereupon. He told Seruin in particular that since by the disposing of his superiors he had given over preaching, to apply himself altogether to Confessions, God had given him that singular grace, presently to forget whatsoever had been told him under the seal of Confession.  
The offender answering before the Commissioners, nothing would ever be drawn from him, which might give any knowledge of those who had counseled or heartened him to this deed; he would never reveal the setter on, protesting that he had not been induced nor counseled thereunto by any man, and that in confession he had never bewrayed his design, fearing lest it should be revealed, and himself put to death, as well for the will as for the deed. He said that the resolution of his attempt, which he termed a temptation, proceeded from certain visions and meditations which he had had watching, and because that he had been made to believe that the King's Army was appointed to march against the Pope.  
That a certain man of Angoulesme had told him how that the King had said, That his predecessors had raised up Popes, & that it was in his power to hurl them down: That a Soldier, speaking of the King's designs, said, that he would serve him, though against the Pope, being not bound to inquire of the causes or motions of the war. That these reports had made him to resolve upon the deed, believing; that to make war upon the Pope, was to do it against God: That the Huguenots having attempted in the Christmas holidays to kill the Catholics, the King had not punished them. That in this opinion he had been desirous to speak to the King, making means for that purpose to diverse persons, who judging of his wit by his discourse had still counseled him to return home to his house. That at the beginning of the year he came to the Lowre, offered himself to speak to the King, and was kept back by the guards:  
That he had only once spoken to Father Aubigni the jesuit, concerning his Visions and Meditations, and had showed him a broken Knife, whereupon was engraven a heart and a Cross, telling him, that he thought that the King aught to convert those of the Religion to the Catholic Church: That Aubigni had exhorted him to have recourse unto God, and to make means to some great man to come to speak with the King, and to use broths to settle his brain. Aubigni being heard, and confronted by the offender, said, that it was all false and sergeant.  
All men laboured to know the Author, and desired to be inventors of new torments to pluck it forth of the villain's bosom, every man thought that if they used him gently, they should use all other men cruelly. Balbany Inventor of the new Cisterns, made offer, and did make an engine in manner of a butter-churne, or obelisk turned upside down, which he showed to Seruin. The body being put into it, slided down with its own weight, was thrust hard together, as the churn shrunk in, and did sink down, in such sort as the shoulders were fastened to the heels with torments slowly cruel, the body notwithstanding losing none of it strength, for in four hours after it might be made to endure the same torment again.  
The violentest tortures are not the cruelest, those who suffer them can not long endure them, and the extremity of pain dulleth the senses Those that are most long and languishing, are most bitter and sharp. The court of Parliament thought it not fit to apply any other torments then usual.  
But it was a question whether the offender should be tortured before his condemnation. The ancient manner would not permit it, for tortures are applied but in two cases, the one before judgement to draw forth proof of the fact, the other after to know the complices and authors. It was not needful to know the truth of the matter, for the offender confessed it, and was taken with the manner. They found a decree, whereby one who had attempted to poison King Lewis the eleventh, was tortured sundry times and on sundry days before his condemnation.  
Hereupon the Parliament decreed that he should be tortured three sundry times and on three sundry days, but because he endured the first with so great certainty and continuance of his answers, without varying or change, and fearing lest his strength being weakened he would not have force enough to endure the execution, they did not continue the tortures; they did likewise perceive, that all the torments which he had endured, with those which he was to suffer, were not of force to altar his speech.  
La Guesle the King's Attorney general, striving with his sickness, caused himself to be carried to the Court of Parliament to take his conclusions with the King's Advocates, and considering that so great and horrible a mischief, whose like was not to be found in ages past, and which brought fear and scandal to posterity, aught to be punished with torments extremely severe, he craved, with their consents, besides the tearing with pincers and the dismembering of that wretched body, a new kind of torture by adding to the burning pincers, molten lead, scalding oil, burning pitch, wax, and brimstone incorporated together. Man could not invent a pain more sensible and piercing.  
The Parliaments of France have never used the like, in ancient time they have been used apart in great executions, and in most severe revenges, but this Parricide was the first who felt the mixture of all those ingredients.  
It was great reason by unknown means to seek satisfaction for so unrecoverable a loss.  
The conclusions being taken the people of Paris did greatly desire to see the execution of that man, borne for the ruin and desolation of men, who had slain the noblest man living, and because they feared that if his health did impair, as it was likely it would, he should endure less than he aught, the first Precedent besought the Queen that it might please her to make an end of him. Her Majesty who had desired this delay, in hope that time would give light to this darkness, referred the matter to the discretion of the court.  
The great Chamber, the Tournelle, & that of the edict, being assembled, they proceeded to the judgement of the Indictment: whatsoever had been done before the Commissioners being read and noted the offender was heard. He reserved one trick of his folly to tell being upon his stool. Being in the Church of vivona beyond Poitiers, he saw in a vision a Moor in a triangle. He entreated a painter (who lay with him) to lend him his pen and Ink to set it down in writing. The Painter gave him one made in form of a triangle and showed him the picture of a Moor. His imagination being wakened, and heated with these objects, observed them and took them for interpreters of what he under-stood not. His mind, ever prompt and ready to his hate against the King, made him think that this Moor was like him, that all the water in the sea would not wash him clean, and thereupon he framed strange chimeras. This was the revelation which he kept so secret and mysterious as he never revealed it till at last.  
His furious speeches against the King made men believe that his mind had been pre-occupied with bad impressions and his wicked and scelerous resolution strenghened and maintained by the doctrine to kill Kings. Therefore the Court in judging his process decreed, that the College of Sorbone should be assembled to renew their ancient decree of the year 1413. confirmed in the council of Constance the year 1415. declaring this opinion to murder Princes under colour of Tyranny to be heretical and impious, opening a door to all sorts of disloyaltyes and rebellions, the foundation of that furious Anarchy, published in times passed in Bohemia, Germany, Scotland and France in the times of trouble and confusion, and revived in Spain in time of peace, after the death of Philip the second. This craveth a large discourse, which belongeth to the History of the new reign, wherein shall be seen how this cursed doctrine, the cut-throat of Kings hath been detested and thundered against.  
The fact being apparent, the offender convicted, they had no more to do but to ordain a punishment as great as the deed was heinous. They consulted whether they aught to invent a new. But the court having ever detested punishments of extreme rigour, they thought that those who were already invented were sufficient to punish the fact; that they aught to borrow none of strangers, nor leave their usual custom, considering that it did punish men of flesh, not of brass, Christians and not Turk's: and because those who had attempted against the life of Kings without effect had been drawn with four horse and torn with pincers, and that here the attempt was followed by the execution, they thought it reason to add thereunto (following the conclusions of the King's learned council) lead, wax, oil and pitch melted together. Hereupon there were some who said that in the ptunishment of offences men aught not so much to respect the time past as that to come; that offenders were not only punished because they should perish but to keep others from perrishing, that punishments were not so much ordained to put the guilty to death, as to leave behind an example and detestation of the fact: that there were penalties in the laws of the Romans which had never been executed, as that which permitted creditors to cut in pieces the bodies of their debtors, that pouring hot lead into the wounds, made with the pincers, it was to be feared that the prisoner would presently faint and dye, and that the residue of the punishment would be ended on a dead body. That therefore they were of opinion to refer it to the sight and discretion of the executioner, whether the ofender had strength enough to endure the molten lead; if not, to pour some other liquor which should not have the same sense and feeling on the members of the offender, and yet nevertheless for example should work the same effect in the people's sight.  
All matters being well considered by the courts-decree he was declared to be worthily attainted and convicted of divine and human treason in the highest degree, for the most mischievous, most abominable & most detestable murder, committed on the person of the King of most happy and famous memory.  
And for satisfaction thereof, it condemned him to make an honourable amendss before the great gate of the Cathedral Church of Paris, naked in his shirt, holding a burning torch in his hand of two pound weight, and to declare, that wickedly and treacherously he did kill the King with two stabs of a knife in the body: from thence being brought to the grieve, upon a Scaffold, his paps, brawns of his arms, and calves of his legs, to be torn with burning Pincers, his right-hand holding in it the knife wherewith he committed the murder to be burnt off with fire of Brimstone, and on the places where he shall be torn with Pincers, molten lead to be cast, scalding oil, burning pitch and rosin, wax and brimstone melted together. That done, his body to be drawn and dismembered with four horse, his members and body consumed with fire, and scattered in the wind, his goods confiscate, the house where he was borne to be razed down to the ground, his father and mother to be banished forth of the realm of France, and his other kinsfolks enforced to change their names.  
The Decree followed word for word the conclusions of the king's Attorney. All the differences was in three things which he requested, but were not decreed. The first, that after the tearing with Pincers and the molten lead, the parricide should be let alone one hour before he were dismembered with horses. The second, that after the razing of the house where he was borne, salt should be sown in that place, in sign of a perpetual curse. The third, that for to abolish the name of so execrable a murderer, and to purge France from such an abominable race, his father, mother, brethren, sisters, & other kinsfolk bearing that cursed surname, should for ever be banished out of the realm of France, and have but fifteen days allotted them without further delay, to dispose of their goods  
The Court considering how that all offences, of what nature soever, did not extend farther than the persons who committed them, held back the punishment of his father and mother's banishment, and altered it by causing his other kinsfolks to change their names.  
Murder in time past hath been so odious & detestable, as the punishment extended to the ninth generation. I did demand one day of an Attorney of Suizerland, why treason was so seldom seen among them? Because (quoth he) that we use to punish traitors rigorously, & we do wholly root out their generation. It is better that a few houses be desolate than a whole country. They would have innocent children to bear their father's fault, because that fatherly affection was of more force to hold back an attempt, & to break the execution thereof, than the fear of punishment. Guntran includeth in the punishment of murderers, all his kinsfolks that were convicted of the crime. Seruin on a time told this to the late King, who accounted this extreme justice, extreme wrong. His mercy which did ever strive with his justice, saw no proportion of reason, why the innocent should suffer for the guilty, and said, That the soul of such a King went a boothaling in an other world.  
The abolishment of this accursed name was most justly decreed. It hath not appeared in all this discourse to have had the honour to enter into the History; the murderer aught to be satisfied with that which his cruel and barbarous ambition made him hope for, thinking by setting fire, not to one Temple, but to the four corners, and in the midst of the kingdom, to consecrated it to eternity.  
The name of Manlius was famous in Rome, one sleight suspicion of state, against the State did wholly deface it. The names of these detestable wretches never aught to dishonour an History; they must be smothered in oblivion, and if at any time we chance to name them, it must be with curses and execrations. The name of this parricide must be given to the devil, we must give to this parricide the name of Devil.  
The sentence was executed the same day it was pronounced, and for to see the execution, all the Princes, Lords, officers of the Crown, and Councillors of state, came to the townhouse, and the whole city of Paris almost, to the Greue. The Execution was not thought fit to be done all in one place, for if his hand had been cut off there where he slew the King, the place was so narrow as the punishment would have been seen but of a few, and pain would have diminished his strength which was necessary to endure other punishments.  
Before the prisoner was brought to the grieve, they gave him the buskins, which drew from his mouth the former words, but far greater cries than the first torture. It appeared by him, that although he had the charm of silence, so much boasted of by sorcerers, yet he had none against pain. At the first wedging he cried out, OH my God take pity on my soul, and forgive me this offence, but not if I have concealed aught. The second wedging ended the torment, for a sounding seized on his heart and within a while after the hangman on his body,  
divers saw him in the Chapel, where he was assisted by two Doctors of Sorbonne, Filsac and Gamache, to settle his conscience and to make it fit and capable of God's mercy, and perceiving certain Princesses and other Ladies to come in, he said that he would speak with the Register. It was an excuse to rid them thence that were there, and to be freed from their sight, because they should add no more shame to his sorrow, for he told him no more than he had done at former times.  
The Doctors could get no more of him: but I wonder how he had the discretion to tell them that his desire was to have his confession revealed and published, to the end the whole world might know that he had not done that deed by the instigation of any man. The Doctors made this relation, and the Register caused it to be enrolled. He thought that the people would have thanked him for the deed: and when the Archers that guarded him to execution were commanded to take heed that no hurt were done him in the streets, this proud slave answered, no body means to hurt me, but he was amazed when at the gate of the Concergery, in the Court of the Palace, and in all streets, he heard horrible cries made against him. He perceived the people not only desirous of the punishment of his body, but of the destruction of his soul, all men wishing him in hell, cursing his birth and life. The Ancients in times past used words of strange force against those who were exposed, and as it were vowed to execution, and to the public hate, Go wretched soul, go damned soul, soul the most desperate upon earth, let the earth deny thee secure, refuse thee her nourishment, and Heaven her light.  
He made an honourable amendss before our Lady's Church, falling prostrate on the earth, he kissed the end of the Torch, and seemed to have his heart broken in pieces with repentance. In prison he had uttered diverse blasphemous speeches, against the piety, justice, mercy, and other good intents of the King. The Queen commanded Testu, Knight of the watch, to look to him that he did not so in the streets; but already, before he came forth of the Concergery, he had testified an extreme grief, for having held so bad and impious opinions of this great King.  
Being pressed with remorse of his own conscience, he did detest his crime, for when doctor Filsac would have given him absolution, & willed him to lift up his eyes to heaven, he answered, I will not do so, for I am unworthy to look thereon, and he was contented that this absolution should be converted to his eternal damnation, if he had concealed aught of the truth.  
The people would not give him the comfort which they never denied to any in that case. None but the Doctor sung the suffrages usual at the execution of offenders. All pity lay in the Hangman who promised divers times quickly to dispatch him, so as he would reveal the truth. The most tender and compassionate hearts, had none for him, and divers were sorry that he was absolved.  
I observed how those that were most gentle and pitiful, took no pity on this man, and were so lost in their sorrow, as notwithstanding they knew that jesus Christ died for him, yet they thought they should not transgress against charity, to bid the devil take him. Heerepvon I call to mind how the fathers of the council of Toledo making a decree to bind Christians to desire the safety of King Cinthillus the Goth; and to attempt nothing against him, added thereunto these words. Anathematized and cursed be he who shall despise our decree, or enterprise to offend the King, in any sort, or upon any occasion whatsoever: In all Christian congregations let him be abhorred and condemned by a sovereign judgement, execrable to all Catholics, abominable to the holy angels, and to all those whom God hath ordained for his ministers, let him be destroyed in this world and damned in the next, & without remedy let him be held for damned, at the day of everlasting damnation.  
Persevering in this confession he received absolution, on condition to be damned if he had not told the truth.  
He was laid along on the scaffold, horses are tied to his hands and feet, his right hand being stricken through with a knife, was burned in a fire of brimstone. I noted that it was not the same knife, wherewith he slew the king, for after the hangman had showed it to the people, who by a general cry did testify how they abhorred that infernal instrument, he threw it to one of his men, who put it into a bag.  
This wretch to behold how his cursed hand did broil, had the courage to lift up his head, and to shake off a spark of fire which was in his beard. This unprofitable care to save it being noted, afforded matter to divers to praise the custom observed in Germany, Suisserland, & divers other places, to shave off and then to burn all the hair from all parts of the bodies of those who are convicted for any notorious crimes, but the court of Parliament holds this for superstitious.  
When they had pinched him with the pincers he cast forth grievous cries: Than they poured melted lead, scalding oil, burning pitch, wax, and brimstone on those places burnt by the pincers This pain was the most sensible and piercing of all his punishment, and he showed it by the lifting up of his whole body, the beating with his legs, the panting of his flesh. All this was not sufficient to move the people to pity; when all was done, they wished it might begin again.  
I saw a young man in the Hall of the townhouse in danger to have been badly dealt with, for a word, which by indiscretion and not of malice, escaped from him, when he saw them pour the oil on the places burnt with the pincers, he was amazed and in steed of saying what torment, he said what cruelty is this, this word was forthwith taken, and if the fellow had not slipped away in the throng, hearing them begin to murmur and threaten him, he had been taught how to call that cruelty which was pure and perfect justice.  
If in this torment they used any pause, it was to give the hangman time to breath and to the prisoner to feel himself to die, to the divines to exhort him to tell the truth. He said that he knew none other then what he had so often before uttered, and that he should be very foolish, perceiving his body in that lamentable case to abandon his soul to a worse.  
The horses begun to draw, but not fast enough to the people minds, whereupon divers to help them began to pluck the ropes. No man thought it shame to execute the hangman's office on him who had slain their father. A horse-courser perceiving one of the horses out of breath alighted from his own, took off the bridle and saddle, and did put it in the place of the tired one. This horse held out better than any of the other, and gave such strong pulls to his right thigh as it forthwith loosed all the joints.  
If the people might have been let alone the Hangman should not have meddled with him, divers offered themselves, to make his punishment last longer, and himself to live many days dying, An heart pierced through with grief for wrong offered to one it loveth, cannot be satisfied, but by some great testimony of sorrow and revenge. A jew dwelling in the City of Aix in Provence, was condemned to be flayed alive before his own house for uttering blasphemous speeches against the Virgin Mary: Certain gentlemen would needs be executioners of so just a punishment, & with vizards on their faces, they came upon the scaffold, made the hangman to come down; and flayed the jew, to save whom the synagogue ofred to Renatus King of Sicily 11000. Florins.  
The ropes, whereto the body was tied betwixt two posts set up in the midst of the scaffold, being loosed, it was a long time haled and pulled forward and on every side: His sides being dashed against those posts, some rib was still cracked in pieces, so as it was thought that without this and the grievous infusion of lead, life, which was strong and vigorous in him, (and so strong as plucking back at one time one of his legs he stayed the horse which drew it) would have lasted and continnued longer,  
The Executioner perceiving that all his members were broken & crushed in pieces, that the horses were tired, & that he was in the agony of death, would have cut him in four quarters, but at the first stroke, the impatient people snatched him forth of his hands, the lackeiss gave him a hundred blows with swords, every one got a piece, and dragged it through the City. A woman was seen with strange revenge to set her nails and teeth in that murderers flesh. The hangman was amazed when he saw nothing of him left but the shirt to finish the execution, meaning to have burnt the body to ashes. The people dragged these wretched relics up and down the city, in the same manner as the Menades did tear the body of Orpheus.  
At the last, it being divided almost in as many pieces as there be streets in Paris, divers fires were made in sundry places, and chief there where the King was slain: The Swisses burned one piece of it before the Lovure. Little children were seen in the streets to carry straw & wood to the fire. There were some who having drawn certain pieces of that body up and down the city, gathered them together on the grieve, and by burning them, made an end of the execution.  
It seemed that this so just and exemplary punishment would in some sort have comforted the public grief; but the satisfaction was not equal to the offence, nor the comfort to the sorrow. The wounds of hearts were opened again when men remembered that the causes of this death were wrapped up in impenetrable darkness, and when many cried out, That this murderer at his death had retained some after-thought.  
The opinion nevertheless of those who thought that this detestable deed had none other motion, but from his own mad and frantic spirit, is maintained by great likelihoods. Not stirs have been within or without the realm. Nothing ensued this mishap. All Princes are grieved for it, and have made offer of their forces to revenge it. We must not think but that the prosperity of this Crown hath had great enemies, and that disloyal minds have offered themselves to disturb the quiet thereof. But if the law of God did not tie Princes to detest such conspiracies, that of honour would suffer them to think thereon. The History of Lewis the eleventh declareth, what praise all Europe gave him for advertising his enemy the Duke of Burgundy of an attempt against his person.  
A Prince who seeks to make away his enemy, otherwise then by justice, and by the event of war, shows a mind full of fear, void of courage, and seems to fear that which it should contemn. It was a generous deed of Fabricius, who delivered into Pyrrhus' hands the fellow who offered to poison him: so noble a deed as Tiberius perceiving a certain Prince of the Celtes to make offer to kill Ariminius by poison, answered: that Rome did not use to be revenged of her enemies secretly and by deceit, but openly and by Arms.  
By how much this act did add glory and honour to the reputation of the Romans, by so much more was that of Titus Flaminius odious, who put Hannibal to death, who was retired to the Court of Prusias King of Bithynia. When Titus Livius notes that, he considereth the great alteration of the minds and courages of the Romans. The fathers of these men advertised Pyrrhus, who entered Italy in arms, to look to himself, that some would poison him, These men (saith he) sand an Ambassador to Prusias, to persuade him to violate the laws of Hospitality with Hannibal. plutarch to take away this blemish of the Romans reputation, layeth the blame on Flaminius, and saith, that the Senate did repute that fact over cruel, and proceeding from covetousness of glory, to the end that in Histories he might be named the cause and Author of Hannibal's death, whom Rome left alive, like a Bird whose plumes and feathers were all fallen off with age.  
How often hath offer been made to our King of certain and infallible means to dispatch his enemies? How often hath he rejected them, as unworthy the Religion and magnanimity of a Christian Prince? abhorring to employ against them any other thing then the right of Arms. His valour carried him into dangers without fear, gave him victories without cruelty, Triumphs without insolency, and changed his lance into Laurel, like that of Amphiaraus. This brave Alexander did never know how to steal victories, nor to vanquish by treachery. He would like Marcellus have the Sun always to be witness without reproach of all his triumphs.  
It is some comfort to us that this prince was so well beloved, so much feared of all Christian princes, as none had a hand in this damnable deed. But that doth not assuage our grief, for the more we consider how far the greatness and felicity of this Prince extended, the more is the remembrance thereof sorrowful, the more sensible the loss. But if our souls, in admiring the immortal reputation which he hath left behind him, are not comforted, the light thereof is but smoke, the glory an illusion, and virtue but a Chimaera.  
Never Prince died more suddenly. Hear is grief. never did any Prince live in greater glory, Hear is comfort. He entertains death in the great designs of his courage, in the amazement and admiration of the world; who ever made a more glorious end? Of what death could he have died, to have been more bewailed, or to have less sense of death?  
This sun of Christendom setting in the west, doth augment the force of his beams. He dieth like a torch, which giveth greatest light when it is almost extinct, redoubling his flame and darting forth his last sparks in the body of his light. The same wherein he procureth sighs is so high, so full, and perfect, as if his death were not so well known and bewailed as it is, Posterity being amazed at the heroical actions of his life, should have more reason to think him immoral, than the Oracle had to doubt whether Lycurgus were a man.  
Greece being so much obliged to the labours of Hercules, thought it folly not to praise him: whosoever shall know what this prince hath done to establish peace in Europe, will think it want of discretion not to admire the strokes of his sword, and the excellency of his judgement. The Greeks' never made Triumph wherein the statue of Hercules was not carried about. Never shall any great enterprise be attempted but by the example of his great actions; posterity will hardly believe that our age hath brought forth a Prince who before him had none that could be equalled with him in the greatness of his courage, and will leave none after him but will hardly imitate that which he hath fortunately executed both in war and peace.  
For so much glory purchased with so much toil, for so many Trophies erected with so much glory, for so many prosperities which did crown all his designs, his mind was no higher elevated, nor his presence more estranged from his subjects.  
He did not think that his body yielded a greater shadow after, then before his victories, and he did not 'cause the heads of the Colosses of the Gods to be taken off, to set on his own. His majesty was kind and gentle to all men, and was terrible only to proud and rash persons, speaking often a latin verse, That he knew how to pardon the humble and to tame the proud. He had joined two things together which commonly are separable, Greatness and Moderation, and like Theopompus, King of Sparta, giving way to whatsoever was to stiff and boisterous in power absolute, he made his commandments easy, and the obedience to them without labour and murmuring.  
In a word, we cannot speak ill of a Prince who hath ever done so well, Truth shall for ever be victorious, it is immovable, and as gold and glass cannot be turned into any other substance, because the one is the suns last workmanship, and the other that of the fire: Truth which is as fair as gold, and as clear as glass, may well be melted in the fire of slander, may well be broken in pieces by lies, but the essence thereof can never be changed. In despite of Hell, the forge of slander, and of all those hellhounds who some and fret against the memory of this great King, he shall have the glory of a Prince, religious, merciful, valorous, magnanimous, gentle and wise. What his enemies shall speak of him in secret, will not much differ from that which his faithful servants say of him publicly.  
But if he understand what we speak of him, and if he do yet entertain that curiosity which in times past he had of the truth of his History, I am certain, that he will not take it well, if we disrobe him of humane weaknesses: he did not love flattery, which taketh away moats, and leaveth spots on the garment, delighting to be praised of those, who believed those praises which they gave him, but if he observed any clawing, he would no more taste it. Princes pay flattery with her own money, Flatterers dissemble the vices of Princes, and Princes dissemble the lies of flatterers.  
True it is, that two scars remain on the face of his reputation. He brought the one into the world with him, the other came with him to the Crown. For the first. This violent fault of his eyes did manifest, that his heart was not invulnerable against the shafts of love, as it was invincible against those of Fortune. He would not abstain from loving that which was fair, & of the most imperious passions of his soul, this did usurp the sovereignty; but, it did never make him to neglect the offices & duties of a great King. Pleasure, which in many subjects overthroweth wisdom, debaucheth reason, smothercth valour, did no wrong to his affairs, to his wisdom, nor to his courage.  
For the second. He was not displeased to be thought hard to grant excessive gifts, near and very considerate in recompenses, never desirous to prevent demands, nor to surprise hopes, albeit that he had a desire to give, that he well knew that there was no money better deserved, then in the following of his Court and Armies, that to give speedily is to give twice, that long hopes consume patience, and that it is a kind of contentment for a man to come to his journeys end before he be weary.  
Recompenses were demanded by so many men, as not being able to give to all those who thought they deserved them, those who still remained discontented, and gave him the name of covetous, were very many: albeit, never King of France, did scatter his bounty into more hands.  
To conclude, his virtues were general, and his defects particular, which were not discerned, but as invisible and needless Atoms in the large extent of his fame. Europe never bred a greater Prince, and the idaea's of a better King remain in heaven, the original and eternal abode of that royal soul, where it enjoyeth most perfect happiness, and knows what the vantage is of never ceasing to live, though it here ceased to Reign.  
FINIS.   

A Panegyre: Containing the Life and Heroyck deeds of the most Christian King Henry the fourth.  
ALthough the world holds an opinion, that there is nothing so excellent and rare, but the like may be seen again; that nature is never weary, and that the Phoenix riseth again out of her own ashes; yet will it be hard to make us hope, that Europe can produce another Henry, whose actions are admired by all the Kings of the earth, and being compared to those of forepassed ages are like unto those high mountains which disdain the proudest rocks that are under them.  
In whom could there concur so many merits? for whom will virtue be so happy, and fortune so constant? for whom will heaven do so great wonders? who will undertake to exceed him? who dares equal him? who can follow him? of whom may we say that which is said of him. A wiser Prince there is not any found, a more Courageous the world bears not, and a better there cannot be.  
His life is so full a Table, as there is not any thing but stays the eye, stirs up the judgement, and draws it to Admiration. They shall not speak in any part of the world of this Prince, but the fame of his great and incomparable actions, will make a great Impression in the bravest courages.  
Theseus could not but talk of Hercules labours: Themistocles could not sleep when he thought of the combats of Miltiades: great Princes will feel their hearts inflamed with glory and honour, when they shall represent unto themselves the victories and Trophies of great Henry.  
The very day that heaven made him be born at Pau, it gave him the crown of Navarre, it promised him that of France; and did assure him that the glory of his life and of his reign should not be limited with other bounds then the continuance of the world. His breeding was as much inferior in delights and dainties, as it should be superior in force of mind and greatness of courage to other Princes of his time.  
His court was in the village, his nurse a contry-woman, his Courtier's peasants, his language Bearnois, his exercises in the field, his walks among the rocks, his delights in Innocent things, his appetites for necessary things, his distaste in superfluous; taking part with the children of the village, of the injuries of the air, and the indisposition of the seasons, whilst the equality of the age, and the liberty of that life held the difference of qualities and conditions suspended.  
His inclination to Arms had not diminished the pleasure he had taken in learning, if they had not been forced to gird him with a sword as well for defence as ornament. The Ignorance of that which he should have learned, and the forgetting of that which he had learned, did frame in his mind a continual grief; complaining of the little care they had had of his Institution: for he desired in greatest occasions to marry his pen unto his sword as Caesar had done.  
As his breeding had enured his body to travel, and had presented pain unto him with pleasure, and pleasure with pain, fortune had made his mind invincible to Accidents, and gave him so great in quantity, and so divers in quality, as in the end she was forced to confess that his courage did surpass the violence of her attempts and his wisdom the stratagems of her designs.  
Diversity of Religion troubling the most happy and profound Peace that ever France enjoyed, he was brought to Bois de Veisane, or Vincennes, there to be bred up with the Infants of France, or rather to be a precious gage of The ancient fidelity of the house of Bourbon. The Queen his mother drew him from the court, to instruct him in the religion whereof she would have him Protector, as they which made profession thereof did acknowledge him for their General after the death of the Prince of Conde, and the loss of the Battle of jarnack. His presence did revive their daunted spirits, and stayed the strangers who would no more serve a cause miserably dejected, condemned by the King's Edicts, and pursued with public hatred. Religion found at Rochabeille that she might hope for more by the presence of this Prince then by the force of her Arms. The Army depended upon his authority, and he depended of his Mothers, who being courteously severe, did not allow his youth any thing, but what she might not well refuse.  
After the Battle of Montconter, he went above three hundred leagues in a short time, and having recovered new forces, he let them see at Rene-le-duk, that he would never lay down Arms, until he had purchased for his party, either an assured Peace, or an absolute victory. He first obtained a truce for two months, and then a peace, more beneficial than the precedent, which should have been the end, but it was but a change of the miseries of France.  
Under his Influences appeared that fatal and furious Canicular, 
The Massacre on saint Bartholmews day.  which made a burning sword run through the streets of Paris, and throughout all the good Towns of France. His liberty was restrained, his conscience forced, his servants banished. Some were overwhelmed with the blow, and others were amazed at the clap, and all apprehended the danger.  
The Castle of Bois de Veisaine which had been his first Academy, become his prison, and the Court the exercise of his patience: King Henry the third gave him his liberty, but thinking always that his abode in Court was an honourable Captivity, he freed himself, under a colour of going a hunting, and was presently followed by them, who did expect on earth none other succours from heaven, then by the care which this Prince seemed to have of their conduct and protection.  
He did with grief re-enter into the servitude which they do feel which command in Civil wars, detesting in his soul all revolts against the Prince, and lamenting the condition of such as in these divisions were sometimes forced to see, do and endure things contrary to the evidence of reason, and the just feeling of their consciences. This war taught him great lessons of patience, constancy, frugality and moderation. His virtue did not exempt him from the outrages of necessity. He wanted money, his munitions failed him, his forces disbanded, his friends grew weary, his own hope was tired, and that which will hardly be credited in an other age, he had some difficulty (having four score thousand pounds' starling of yearly revenues) to repel hunger, which doth never force Kings. Among the discourses which he hath made to young men, to teach them how to suffer, he hath been heard to say, That having on a time made a great march, he was forced to eat a piece of a Goose half broiled upon the coals without any bread, the which was so old and tough, as it seemed to be of that race which had watched to save the Capitol. He felt a great delight to have reduced delight to that point, as no cross of fortune might altar her.  
But amidst all these wants, he never wanted courage, with the which he promised himself to have whatsoever he wanted. A man may wish all things to his enemy but courage, for therewith he shall deprive himself of the fruits of his wishes, and force (which is encountered by valour) is always in danger. The necessity of his own defence did justify his Arms, the which he laid aside as soon as the fift Edict of peace had settled concord and obedience in the hearts and wills of the French.  
He did nourish this new plant carefully, and, by the conferences of Flaix, and Nerac, did pacify the winds which did blow against her first buds. They sought to engage him in new confusions, but as Ulysses, who for that he would not be enchanted by the Sirens songs, caused himself to be tied to the Mast of his ship, he kept himself close to the body of Saint Lewis tree, against foreign Enchantments, which did solicit him to stir up new troubles. He discovered a far off the practices that were made to renew the miseries, & resolved with greater constancy to serve France, holding as a maxim, that there was no health in the Estate, but with the Estate, & in the sincerity of such thoughts, the death of the Duke of Alencon, the King's only brother, set him in the nearest degree unto the Crown.  
France was then divided into three factions, the two agreed easily against his; yet did he offer unto the King the service of his person and Arms, to make him recover that which a careless bounty in the beginning of these disorders (when as he preferred mild and fearful remedies to them that were hardy and severe) had wrested from him. When as this storm fell upon him, he had no other thoughts but to maintain France in Peace, to restore authority to the King, and liberty to him and his.  
The realm was plunged into present miseries, under the vain fear of that which was to come and uncertain, the King suffering that during his life they should dispute of the succession of his Crown. They did no more look of him, but as the Sunset of his realm, all men's eyes were turned upon two Princes, both great in courage and reputation. The one had a Crown already, and the law of the Kingdom called him to the second: the other had great parties to get it, and to keep it being gotten.  
The heart of the one was inclined to love the other, they were seen in one Chamber in the Lovure, they went a hunting, made matches at tennis, played at dice, visited the Ladies together. The King of Navarre carried the Duke of Guise behind him on horseback through the streets of Paris: He loved him as his kinsman, having not any one nearer next to them of his name. These great shows of friendship did not please the King, but as great hatred proceeds from great love, and good Vinegar is made of the best wine, this love degenerating into hatred, was the cause of great ruins, as we shall presently see.  
If that age had carried designs worthy of the swords of these two, who were the greatest personages that France ever bore, and two of the greatest Captains in the world, she might have recovered those goodly and rich pieces of her Crown, whereof she had been dispossessed. If their controversy had been but for Achilles' arms, and that they had been cast in the midst of Palestina, to be his that should win them by the point of his sword, Ajax did never contend for them so resolutely against Ulysses, as they would have done together, but their thoughts reached not so far, the one contented himself with that which was justly due unto his birth, and the other to purchase that which he thought should belong unto his valour.  
The King fearing the hope of the one the designs of the other, and the courage of them both, suffered the one to force him to make war against the other. So as in a moment we saw the Edicts revoked, and the chief forces of the realm employed against the King of Navarre. He was assailed, during the space of four years, by two royal Armies, one sent to refresh an other, and led by great Captains. The God of armies gave him the victory at the Battle of Coutras, to make it known that he would end in him the wonders of his works, and lead him by the hand to the place whether his enemies thought he should never come, especially after that he had been beaten with the fulminations of the Vatican, and in a manner out of hope to pass the river of Loire after the rout of that great Army which Germany had sent to his succour.  
It seemed that the war was dead: but it did but sleep, we saw that furious tumult of the Barricado's burst forth, the which chased the King out of Paris; and did wound his heart with an incurable ulcer. He dissembled this injury, he pacefied those that had put him in choler, he used all policy and arts to cover the fire of his revenge under the ashes of forgetfulness; he called an Assembly at Rovan, whereas the Cardinal of Bourbon was held for the first Prince of the blood, and the lawful heir of the Crown declared unworthy to succeed.  
The more they labour to quench this royal plant, the more it sprouts, the councils for his ruin prove his advancement. The conspiracy of josephs' brethren was the bridge whereby he passed to the chief honours of Egypt. Heaven which never spares his prodigies with and against great men, took away at that time with a flash of lightning the bar in the Arms of the house of Bourbon, in the Chapel of Archambaud of Bourbon, broke it in pieces, and did not hurt the flowers de Luce, nor the rest of the scutcheon.  
The two Pillars which supported the building were beaten down, and their fall did shake all France. The King, who thought that he had quenched the fire of war in the blood of these two Princes, saw it kindled more violently in every corner of the realm, many came running to have some pieces of this general combustion. Henry of Bourbon presented himself to quench it, he passed the river of Loire; And when his servants at this passage advised him to think of his own safety, and to consider with whom he had to do. He said, The chance is cast, the succour of France, and the service of my King are dearer unto me, than mine own life.  
He delivered the King from the danger wherein he was at Tours, and desiring no other quality than the first of his servants, he brought unto his obedience Gargeau, Gien, la charity, Plwiers, Estampes, Dourdan, and fortified his camp in such sort before Paris, as he left it to his choice to enter by a Port or a breach, by love or by force, within three days he had been seen in his Lowre and in his seat of justice, without that fearful blow, the which wounding him in the belly, did strike France to the heart, and reduced it to that estate, as if it had not been speedily supported by that great Prince, it had fallen in pieces. He received her and cherished her, as if he had been born for France, and not France for him.  
He might have come to the Crown by succession, which was the easiest way, but God, to try his courage and to excercise the force of his mind, presented the most painful and difficult unto him, that of Conquest, through such continual toils, such apparent dangers, and such extreme afflictions, as a soul of another birth than his would not have undertaken so painful a task for a Diadem. I should make a History instead of a Panegyre, if I would represent them all, they require a more free and large discourse.  
Great actions may be represented in a small table, we may see a Caesar at the passage of Rubicon, and how he defeated Petreius, Afranius and Varro in Spain; Pompey at Pharsalia, Ptolemy in Egypt, and Pharnax in Asia, but so many words, so many discourses, every action merits a volume. Even so we may speak of the actions of this King after the manner of the Geographers, who note great rivers with small lines, and strong and mighty cities, with points.  
He gins the first actions of his reign by the last duties of Piety, which he causeth to be done unto the King's body, the which was laid in Saint Corneils Church at Compeigne, a place of safety and famous by the Interment of two Emperors Kings of France. There was a horrible and monstrous confusion seen, which sought to disorder and overwhelm all things. To a true and lawful Royalty, they did oppose one feigned and Immaginary, under the name of a Prince that was prisoner, who neither had the age, nor was of a profession necessary to undertake the revenge of the King's death, and the preservation of the Realm.  
Although the servants of the true King be divided in religion, yet are they not in the fidelity which they own him, nor in the affection of his service, neither yet in desire to revenge the execrable Parricide, of their King. Their honour and that of France is the only Trophy which they promise' unto themselves of this war.  
Other nations do it not but for spoil and booty, but the French propound not any thing unto themselves but the honour of the King's service. Xerxes' with his Army of a hundred thousand fight men would be loath to charge them, as he repent to have taken arms against the Grecians, when as he understood that all their ambition was to deserve, not crowns of gold but garlands of Olive, and parsley at the Olypmpic games.  
The Pope, who until this time had not seen clearly into these confusions, repent that he had taken the shows and pretexts for the causes and reasons of these confusions, he pierceth into the desseigns, and doth openly discountenance them, whom in the beginning he had favoured, and that which before he would have done as a Partesan, he now gins to do as a Father.  
The beginning of this reign had great difficulties, amazement being more powerful in the minds of many, than affection was zealous in their hearts.  
He saw himself constrained to endure of them, who could not endure of themselves, to shut his eyes at that which he saw, and to turn away his ears from that which he understood, practising that Gracious manner cf pardoning, seeming to be ignorant of the offences, & suffering wickedness to drink the poison which she herself had compounded. What other spirit then his would have been capable to temper the passions of men's minds? What Ulysses could have contained so many contrary wines in one bottle? And yet in the midst of all this, his heart is firm, and his soul quiet, the more rebellion overflows, the more doth the sea of his clemency swell.  
Never Prince embarked in a better vessel, but never did the sea rage's more furiously to swallow him up. He had need of as many eyes as Argus to watch, as many heads at Typheus to dispose, and as many Arms as Briareus to labour. Attending some good occasion to employ his whole Army, he dispersed it into three Provinces, Normandy, champaign, and Picardy. He assures himself of Pont de larch, to cut of the Commerce by water betwixt Paris and Roven, he makes his entry into deep, commends the fidelity of Caen, forceth his enemies to retire from Paris, and to come and be beaten at Arques. Paris who thought to see him a prisoner, sees him triumphing in her suburbs, and knows that this torrent had been stayed in one corner of the realm, to overflow more violently.  
He chaseth rebellion out of the Provinces of Dunois, Vendosme, Maine, perch, and the better part of Normandy; he comes to Tours to refresh himself, and to see his council, the sovereign companies of his justice, and of his Finances. From thence he forceth Man's and Alencon, and it seemed that his Canons and Regiments had wings, having marched above a hundred and fifty leagues in less than two months. His counsels pass the wisdom of those that council him; his designs prevent the foresight of his enemies, his courage gives assurance to his servants, and his happiness in all his enterprises makes them say, that if he should be on the main Sea upon a hurdle, he should not perish. None but jupiter can cast forth lightning, none but Hercules can handle his club, & it fits best with Henry to wear a Crown of Palm and Bays. He besiegeth Dreux, and seeing that his enemy did advance to secure it, he makes show to retire, gives him time to pass the river to follow him, and seeing him past, and engaged in the plain of Yury, he offers him battle, and wins it.  
The battle of Marathon, where as 10000 Grecians defeated 100000. Persians on foot, & 10000 horse is not so renowned to the Athenians, as this victory of reason and right against numbers and force, is unto the French. All his grief was to see the fields died with the blood of his subjects, for he could have wished that the stranger alone had paid the expenses of his triumph. The fruits of this victory put into his hands, in less than two months, fifteen or sixteen good towns: only Meulan presuming rashly to resist his forces, suffered the pains of her rashness. Sens was the only thorn which stayed the course of his victory, but desiring to strike rebellion at the heart, and to bury it in the same place where it was first bred, he turned head towards Paris, cutting the veins which did nourish this huge body; he seized upon the passages for victuals above & beneath, of the rivers of Seine, Maine, Yonne and of Oyse, by the taking of Mante, Poissy, Melun and Montreau, and he takes from them also the commodities of the plain by the taking of Saint Denis.  
He reduced Paris to extreme misery, but desiring rather to fail in the severity of war, then in the mildness of his clemency, he entreats that City like a father which called him Tyrant, daily, and understanding the fearful effects which necessity wrought, that they did eat raw dogs publicly, and that the mothers found their children missing, he desired to relieve the despair of this people, succouring the Princes and Princesses with victuals, suffering virgins, children, scholars and Churchmen to come forth, and by this pity augmented the obstinacy of the rest of the besieged. She is freed from famine to be afflicted with new Calamities and desolations; she hath eaten so many dogs, as she retains the rage and fury, with the which she falls upon the chief Officers of justice.  
The King invites the army of strangers to the hazard of a Battle, & presents himself above the village of Chelles, but they will not hazard any thing, and bound their Conquests with the ruin of Lagny: and the taking of Corbeil. It came into France like a Torrent, but he forced it to return being priest and scanted for victuals, and did let them see at Longeval, that courage prescribes a law to numbers, being content to let the vanquished know, how far the honour of a victory doth extend. In this Encounter there was a troop did obstinately make head against him, engaged him in the thickest of the danger, and slew five or six if his company near unto him. In the end it was in his will to have cut them all in pieces, but as soon as he saw them humbled, he left his Pistol, and retained the just advantage which he had, saying, That he would not see them suffer harm, which were not in case to do any.  
Soon after he had other means offered him to enter into Paris, but he would not harken to it, for that the execution could not be without great disorder. One of his good servants, who hath disdained life after the death of so good a master, had an infallible enterprise, having means to let in by Port Bucy, (whereof they had promised him the Keys) as many men as he would, to fortify the courages and resolutions of them that were within the City, and who desired rather to be taken by their King with the hazard of their goods, then to be guarded by the Spaniards with the loss of their liberties. This great Prince considering that it was impossible to prevent it, but in this surprise the City would feel the fury of the war, & that the good must suffer for the bad, he said, that he had rather not take Paris, then to ruin it.  
Chartres is besieged, and having endured the siege two months, they were more desirous to trust unto the mercy of the assailant, then to any hope of succours. The enemy seeing that this Hercules could not be vanquished with any earthly forces, they desire to draw lightning from heaven to consume and ruin him. Gregory the 13. the oracle of Philip, of a common father, becomes the head of a party, casting forth his fulminations against this Prince, the Bulls were burnt at Tours & at Chalons.  
The Parliaments with the like courage (as they had in former times, resisted the insolences of Bonifaces, Pius and julius) make it known, that the remedies of fire and blood are not fit the languish of France: that this generous mind will not be forced, & that they must hope, that he will one day bind the Church to call him sometimes her father, and sometimes her son. Fear to displease the Pope, had not so much power over them, as the care of the Estate, & the preservation of the liberties of the French church. The army which came to demand the execution of the Bulls was as soon dispersed as employed. At the sight of a hundred horse of the King's white Cornet, a 1000 Cassaks of watchet velvet, all embroidered with gold & ciphers of keys joined unto swords, dare not abandon the shadow of the walls of Verdun, and make it known that their troop consists of many men and good horses, but of few soldiers, & that they had to deal with men whose Arms feared not the lead of Rome.  
The prosperity of his affairs did nothing altar his mind from the desire he had in the beginning of his reign, for the good of a Peace; The overtures and propositions whereof were secretly handled, for that they would not offend the Strangers, who were better pleased to see France languish then cured, and who laboured to make the subject irreconcilable to their Prince. The time was so close as it would not suffer the hearts of good men to be open; it was Impiety to propound a peace, and treason to seek it.  
He looseth no time in the mean time, he passeth into Normandy, to fortify his servants and subjects by his presence: In the sight of the sun, & in less than two hours he executes a memorable enterprise upon Lovuiers; he causeth his council to come from Tours to Mante, to resolve there upon his chief and most important affairs, he enters into Picardy, besiegeth Noyon, which at the third volley of the Canon yielded in view of the Army, which durst not attempt to succour it, nor to hazard a Battle against a lesser number.  
Having received some forces from the Queen of England he presented himself before Roven, summons it, & doth press it to yield him the duty which it owes. The hope of succours makes the Inhabitants obstinate in their resolutions. The King turned head towards this new Army, and resolved to fight with it, contrary to the advice of his chief servants, who seeing the disproportion of these forces, advised him to pass Pont de l'Arche. His courage bound him rather to follow the path of danger with honour, then that of safety with shame, and made him say, with Pompey, but with more truth and better success, That in striking his foot against the earth he would raise up Legions. All his servants which were far of returned to the army, the Duke of Parma who thought to have an easy victory, saw his enemies in front of him.  
The two armies were in sight at Aumale, where as the King was hurt with a shot, which did not hinder him from pronouncing that royal and generous word Charge Charge, and to do that which himself had commanded, charging valiantly with his hurt into the thickest of the enemy's fury, and then he made a glorious retreat: divers days after he was in all the occasions, where as glory was never seen but in a world of dangers.  
He beats his enemies at Bellencombe, he stripes them at Bure, and makes them to quit Yuetot with dishonour and great loss.  
In the view of two Squadrons of the enemy's horse, he himself took a Sentinel perdu at Henry-quart-ville. This great Army was as much priest with necessity, as the chief commanders were with sickness, the soundest of them both being carried in a litter. The King overtakes them at Caudebeck upon the river of Seine, and forceth them to separate themselves, the one gets to Roven, the other by the savour of two bridges, the one at Caudebeck, and the other at Charanton, recovers Chasteau Thierry, and seizeth upon Espernay.  
This voyage did confirm him in the opinion which he had at the first, as a Sovereign Prince interessed in the King's defence, and as a Prince of Italy enemy to the pride of Spain, that the King's quarrel being Just and maintained by a good sword, he would prevail, and that if the war continued longer Spain should have more wood to heat her oven, than corn to sand to the mill. He said moreover That this Prince was an Eagle in war which soared into the clouds when they thought to take him, and fell suddenly upon them which held him to be farther off.  
Quilbeuf ruined that which remained, it defended a siege three weeks, and forced the assailant to dislodge without drum or Trumpet. Espernay was recovered; eight horses put 300. to rout. Nothing stays the force of the King's arms but humility and piety: The vanquished have no hope but in the conquerors mercy. He dismissed the Prince of Anhalt with the Reisters which he brought him.  
He had promised at his coming to the crown, that he would not show himself difficult to be instructed in the Religion of his predecessors. He had vanquished his enemies, it was necessary he should vanquish himself. That rich diamond of religion, whose fire is so pure and water so clear, did not shine with that lustre upon his Crown, as his Predecessors had carried it, for that he did not serve God after their manner. It was desired that Piety, which hath given unto the Kings the glorious title of most Christian, should give unto him that of the eldest son of the Church. He therefore suffers himself to be Instructed, and being instructed doth acknowledge the truth, the Church doth triumph thereat, and heaven doth furnish bays. His valour hath triumphed over his enemies, and his Piety did triumph over his conscience. Many have had their shares in his victory against his enemies, but in that of himself the conquest is his own. This miraculous work of heaven overthrew new designs.  
He makes profession of his religion at the entry of the Church of the first Apostle of France, the sacred monuments of his Predecessors are the witnesses of the sincerity of his heart. He caused himself to be anointed and crowned in the first & most ancient Temple of Christendom, which they say was dedicated by the druids, To the Virgin that should bring forth. His heart like a Lamp prepared to burn; was no sooner kindled by this divine fire, whereof Constancy and Truth are the Vestals, but darkness vanished, and the pretexts fell like walls undermined. The League, the Typhon of sedition, from whence sprung so many Serpents and Vipers of disloyalty was smothered under the Aetna of her own presumption and pride. Those great Colossuses of foreign designs were beaten down, the foundation of the pretext of Religion supporting them no more. The war can no more carry the title of a war for religion. Paris at the first speech of this Mass, or to speak more-properly, at the very ringing of the Bell, receives him for Catholic, they run to Saint Denis to add the tears of their miseries to those of joy, for a Grace which was more desired then hoped for.  
Hell storming at the saving of a soul so necessary for the glory of Heaven, stirs up a wretch who undertakes to kill him. The Tiger stayed at the shining of a glass: This Monster seeing the zeal of Piety to shine in the eyes of this Prince, confessed that he had horror to offend the Sovereign dignity ordained of GOD, among Angels and men. Rome which had cast forth her fulminations against him from the top of Vatican, makes bonfires for joy of his return unto the Church, and erects a Triumph to his Piety.  
The Island of Zeilan holds not any lawful King, but he that the day of his Coronation carries the hereditary ornament of the Crown, a Ruby as big as a hand, and three fingers thick, for the which the great Cham of Cathay, would have given a great and mighty City. In like manner Rome could not hold him for most Christian King, which did not carry this precious Ring of the Religion of Saint Lewis.  
Pagan Rome hath deserved great Eulogies of all the nations of the earth, they called her the City of the world, a heap of triumphs and trophies, and the mother of all Cities. The Marbles and Medailes have named her, the eternal City. They of Smyrna in the time of Cato: they of Pergamo under Augustus: and they of Athens under Adrian, have given her the name of Divine, Holy, August and Sacred. Christian Rome is called by those great lights of the East and West, the Chair of the Apostles; the inexpugnable fort of truth: the Metropolitaine of all the world; the Archetype of Religion; the miracle of Piety, the Sanctuary of Innocency; the rule of Consciences, and the Mountain of Zion. All titles equally famous, but the glory could not be greater than by that of a godly Mother to a great Prince, who acknowledging her, was received by her as the eldest son of the Church. She sets these trophies on the top of his conquests, thinking that of a soul so precious to Christendom, very profitable to the Church, and that her groundwork could not be beautified with a goodlier plant.  
France, which during her sleepy and insensible stupidity, had suffered her, members to be cut off by pieces, began to open her eyes which she had kept shut, for that she would not know her own miseries, nor feel her Infirmities, she neglected all remedies, and now that she feels her own wounds, she desires to be cured: This feeling was the infallible Crisis of her health: hope revived good men, and confusion amazed the wicked. The Crow which could not say from the top of the Capitol It goes well; may now say All will go well. This body had yet some sound, vigorous and perfect parts, and it had good blood to restore it. Gold set in work being cast into the fire, looseth his fashion, but not his weight. The ancient loyalty of the French, lost her form in this fire of rebellion, but the substance remained perfect and without blemish, to be repaired and beautified by the industry of this Prince.  
The King promiseth to make her happy, if she desires to be so; he makes her to taste the sweetness of a truce, to make her covet the felicity of Peace. The Parliament of Paris having cast up the phleme of temporizing, kindles his courage, and by a decree disperseth the chimaera's of Spain, which thought to reduce France unto a Province. The most obstinate are forced to confess, that the earth strives in vain against the decrees of heaven; that whatsoever had been done to keep under and ruin this Prince had raised, preserved and advanced him: that in declaring him unworthy of the crown, they had drawn him from the farthest bounds of France, and thinking to hold him in the waves of division, they had brought him to the Port of greatness. Behold in the end he is the Hercules of Gaul, the tamer of Monsters, which France had not brought forth, but did nourish and entertain.  
Paris which had resisted his mildness, is surprised by force: he takes it with 4000 men. She sees herself taken & feels it not, neither is there any alteration but that of joy dispersed through all the streets for so sweet a change. He enters like a King and entreats like a father. He changeth the sword of just revenge, into a sceptre of mild command: he pardoneth even the 
ast; A seditious number of leaguers within Paris.  sixteen, the people adore him & kiss his feet. The Lovure receives his Majesty, the Palace his justice, the temple his piety, and all orders his clemency. He visits the Cathedral church of this city to give God thanks, who was the Author of this conquest, the founder of this authority, & the fountain of this felicity.  
Laon was a refuge for the foreign troops whom he suffered to departed out of Paris. they tried the effects of his clemency, & felt of his valour: for having sustained three asaults in one day, and seeing the defeat of two mighty convoys, they yielded. This prize was followed by the reduction of all Picardy. He besiegeth and taketh Noion, and forceth the town and castle of Dreux. He casts the firebrand of war upon those who had set France on fire, and causeth Artois, the county of Bourgondy, Piedmont and Savoy, to feel the just fury of his arms. He strikes every where as soon as he threatens, He seems to be mounted upon Pegasus, to be in all places where his presence is necessary. Behold he enters triumphing into Lions, and in an instant is upon the frontier of Picardy, from thence his authority like a spirit of life disperseth itself throughout all the members of the body.  
But it is not sufficient for him to have made war, if it doth not produce peace. The most royal virtue of a great Prince which entereth into a troubled estate is justice, the most mighty is valour, the greatest effects come from Arms, and the most glorious fruits of Arms from peace. He shows that he hath not made war, but for peace, that his club, (like unto that of Hercules) is made of an Olive tree, and his sword dipped in Oil. He adds unto his Bays a crown of olive branches, he gives peace to them that demand it, and doth not refuse it, but unto those who being ostinate in their own ruin contemn it. Five Duke's sacrifice to this royal clemency.  
The first obtains peace for his estate, 
Duke of Lorraine.  being counseled and governed in this resolution by Ferdinand great Duke of Tuscany, a most wise and happy Prince.  
The second for his party, 
Duke of Maienne.  whereof he is the head, and which give him the glory of great continency in so great liberty, and of wise command in a furious confusion, for that he would never yield that religion should be wronged, nor the estate ruined.  
The third, 
Duke of Guise.  who seemed to be most interessed, for that in this civil tempest he had lost his Father and his Uncle, gives his wrongs unto France, and hath the honour to receive the King's first embracings, he is content to command in that Province, whereas his grandfathers, by the mother's side, had sometimes reigned, and that France should see four young plants spring out of that tree, which the King's fury had overthrown.  
The fourth is content to leave the troubles of the world, 
Duke of Ioyeuze.  to prepare himself to a solitary life, where he had begun to live.  
The fift did beautify the trophies of the King's glory, 
Duke of Mercure.  by the whole reduction of the goodliest Province in France, and sees the ermines to revive at the smell of the Flower de Luce.  
This great King had by his clemency won these great men, whose hearts had never yielded to weakness. He did so govern their humours and affections, as he made them profitable for his service. M. Scevola had wonderfully wronged Porsenna, but the constancy of him that did the offence, changed the revenge of the offended into admiration. He restored him his sword, and Scevola taking it with the left hand (for the other was burnt) said unto him; Porsenna, Thou couldst not have vanquished me by fear, and now thou hast overcome me by courtesy. whereupon he discovered unto him a conspiracy of three hundred Romans', and protested that he was not sorry that he had not slain so good a man. Generous minds will not be forced nor baffeled. Laurel is bitter to them that bite it. There are herbs very sweet when they are gently handled, but they loose their savour when they are roughly rubbed.  
This Prince did never desire to be revenged but by the justness of his arms, but when he saw that other means would not prevail. In the greatest declining of his affairs, and when as necessity did suffer him to seek revenge, either by policy or by force, he let them see that the generosity of his courage could not yield unto the profit which may grow by a base and wicked action. After the defeats of his Reisters, a gentleman came unto him at Chastel jaleux and told him that he had means to ruin the Duke of Guise and his chief enemies, setting fire unto a sausedge being planted in a certain place of the Palace of Guise, in Paris. To whom he answered, be go, speak no more of it, even as you measure to others so shall it be measured to you again.  
The temple of clemency being open unto great men, was not shut to the meanest. He doth embrace them and doth not refuse to capitulate with simple captains, suspending for a time the greatness of his majesty to accommodate himself to the unconstancy of the world, and to show that his hands no less accustomed to bear the palms of valour than the crowns of clemency knows how to raise up them that humble themselves, and reform such as go astray. He is content to hinder the fall of such as did shake and waver at the first wind of sedition; experience having taught him that the people suffer themselves to be abused with bruits, and opinions, he doth therefore carefully observe the practices and policies of these deceivers.  
The pleasure of liberty being recovered, defaceth the sorrow of forepast servitude. All the revolted Towns seek the shortest way to retire themselves out of this misery, and confess that the shortest follies are the best. They return to their duties, not by order of their qualities, nor the reason of example, but as they are touched with repentance of rebellion, the which doth now seem a dying lamp, that having nothing to feed it leaves him in suspense whether it be dead or alive. Albina his thoughts tended to the happy end of all his victories, and to increase the prosperity of France, when as his enemies surprised Amiens with Apples and nuts, and troubled him to recover it with Canon shot making it known that there was nothing impossible nor impregnable for his courage.  
Than did Europe call him the Invincible: a title which he did not purchase with his arms a cross, nor by his Lieutenants, but with the price of his blood and the peril of his life in the view of his enemies, and with the consent of all the world. To say that he hath conquered France, and subdued in France the most warlike Nations in Europe, is to say all that can be said, to judge whether that he had deserved that glorious title of always victorious, always Augustus. This great King alone was worthy of the conquest of France, and France was alone worthy of the valour of so great a King. France is no estate of Pigmies which may be conquered by armies of Cranes. It is neither America nor Canada, countries in a manner not habitable by reason of the ordinary inundations, whereas the Inhabitants are forced a part of the year to leave the land and to live in Barks and Canoes upon the water, whereas the people are so dull and brutish as they dare not think themselves to be men.  
It is not that miserable region of the Icthiophages, whose towns and houses are made of fishbones, nor that part of Numidia whereas they live of herbs and water, it is the Queen of Realms, it is the realm of Kings, the beauty of delights, the felicity and the force of the world, so rich, abundant and fruitful as in cutting of superfluous things she hath no need of the world for that which is necessary. It is she that hath made head against the Romans, then against the Goths, Hunns, Vandals, & Saracens; which hath joined unto her crown, Germany, Hungary, Saxony, a part of Spain, Palestina, and the Empire of Greece; she hath given laws and Kings to other Crowns, and brought the French name in such reputation, as the Christians of the East used not any other. Yet she hath not the wonders which maketh other nations of the world more admired then frequented, and from whence no man comes but he hath the privilege to purchase credit, as they were wont to say of those that went for Iseland; If I say she did not nourish cruel and savage beasts like unto Africa; If she doth not carry trees fifteen fathom about the body, as at Peru, nor doth produce cloves like the Moluques, nor cinomon as at Bantan, nutmegs as at javan, nor ginger and pepper as at calicut, musk as at Sertuge, perfumes as in Arabia, nor Cassia and balm as in Egypt: If it be not as rich in Diamonds, as the Island at Zeilan, nor in pearls like to Var, nor in Emerauds' like to China, nor in rubies like to Perne nor in Opalls like to India, she is mighty in men, capable to conquer all this, If they knew the means as well to keep it as to get it. Fruitful and flourishing in men which understand the true point of honour, the true honour of valour, which cannot yield to dangers and which teacheth them to go on and how to dye better then to kill. It is she that carries the crown of glory and of piety, by the continuance of her monarchy, the constancy of her piety, the power of her empire, the reputation of her princes, she carrieth the title of the Queen of people and nations. Great was the glory of this Prince to have reduced France under his obedience, great indeed to have vanquished so many great courages that were armed against him. Posterity, which shall judge of all this justly will ascribe no less glory unto him to have forced the King of Spain to reason then in former ages was given to Alexander to have subdued the persians, Caesar the Gaulls, and Pompey the Parthians. If this truth doth not pass without amazement, It will enter without contradiction into the minds of those which know that they had to do with men who were Lions in garrisons and Hares in combats, and this Prince had in front & of every side men who were sooner surprised with death then with fear.  
The inequality of arms, and of forts proves the difference. Caesar found so small resistance in one of his greatest designs, as it is no wonder if he did not writ so boldly, I came, I saw, & I over came, for in less than ten years he conquered three hundredth nations to the Empire of Room. Pompey in pursuing Metridates did number his victories by his journeys and the sieges by his lodgings. When as Alexander had defeated Darius in battle, he found the whole country open, there was not any resistance, but as nature gives at the passage of Rivers.  
If these 3. great Captains whom I hold without comparison, but of themselves to themselves, had been fronted by our cavalary, our regiments, our Canons, our muskets and our petards, their glory had not been so great and so dispersed. Artillery is an Invention so new, so terrible, and so different from all the ancient engines, as we may say that at these days we make war not with Iron, as in former time, but with fire, not with violent force, but with the moderation of wisdom & temporizing: they do not commit any thing to the hazard of fortune, but that she carrieth away by surprise.  
The greatest armies of Europe have marched against him, and he hath defeated the greatest Captains. The death of the Earl of Egmont and the ruin of his troup did serve as a triumph of that memorable day, whereas the God of armies gave sentence for justice against force, for a royalty against tyranny. Farneze a Roman by birth, Alexander by name, Achilles by valour, and Ulysses in policy, did by two goodly retreats cover the weakness of his forces, and the refusal of a battle. The Earl of Montmarchiano, general of the Pope's army, who had tied the Sword unto Saint Peter's Keys, repasseth the mountains, without any fruits of his voyage but repentance; Charles Earl of Mansfield knows, that to come to fight, to vanquish, and to triumph, are all one in this Prince. His forehead glistering like a Comet at the encounter of Fountain Francoise, forced the Constable of Castille to fly.  
Albert Archduke of Austria, having succeeded Ernest his brother in the general command of the Low-countrieses, seeing by the glorious recovery of Amiens, that the King could not admire any thing (above the Laurel branches which did crown his head) but the Heavens and the Sun, that it was a folly to be his neighbour and not his friend, sought his friendship with great earnestness. Philip the second King of Spain, and the first mover of all these great engines, giving motion to all the lesser wheels, considering that fortune had not yet raised any one to be victor over France, and that Charles the fift his Father had always exhorted him to live in peace with her, protesting that there was nothing so gallant or courageous as the Nobility of France, and holding it a great honour to have had two Princesses of the blood of the Kings of France, for his grandmother and great grandmother; that war against a Prince, who was given and cherished by God, was his ruin, and that an accord was the last anchor of his affairs, desired to end his life and his reign, by the assurance of a peace for his son, and the husbands of his two Daughters.  
They that had seen the King bred up in arms, and to command armies at fourteen years of age, his first exercise in dangers and perils, that he had purchased the glory to know how to vanquish, to use the victory, to subdue his enemies, and to pardon them being subdued, could not think that a Prince of that courage, of that humour, and of that fortune, would think of peace, and quench the thirst of glory, wherewith the greatest courages are wonderfully altered; and yet he smothered the seeds of civil war, and ended all foreign war with much glory, profit, and reputation, so as all men thought it should continued long, giving unto his people a happy peace, rich in all kinds of prosperities, the which restored rest unto the people, liberty to the nobility, dignity to the Church, and to all hope, suffering France to take breath, being no more impossible for a man's body to breath without lights, then for an estate to live without peace.  
Pope Clement the eight was the Angel and the minister of this peace, desiring that the concord of Christian Princes might be applied to the advantages which this common enemy drew from their divisions. He had no greater desire in his soul then to see the injuries of Gods holy name revenged in the whole land, and the triumph of our redemption raised, whereas infidelity & ingratitude had cast it down. The world cannot furnish a war more just, a Croisado more holy, nor a victory more heroyck. The fruits of the Palmtree of Europe are bitter, they of Africa have no taste, they are only fair & good in Asia. All the virtues of this Prince have assisted in the building of this public peace, but piety hath the chiefest honour. When as the people saw that he served God in the religion of his father, they believed that the war was not for religion, but against the state, they held them all for enemies that would not acknowledge a Prince whom the heavens by so many miracles had acknowledged. After the bond which is given to piety, we know not to whether of these three virtues, justice, valour, or clemency France is more beholding for her rest. They be all three great, all three royal, neither had they ever any worthier throne then in the heart of this Prince. All have a share in the restoration of this estate: the one had been the sword, the other the buckler, and the third the crown, the one the stern, the other the ship, and the third the port. Valour challengeth the honour of two famous Battles which did save the Crown, and delivered France from five foreign armies; to have caused courage to triumph over numbers and right over force, in a hundredth combats and as many encounters, to have clipped victories wings to the end she should not fly out of France.  
justice hath retained many towns, many people within the bounds of their duty, whom the respect of wisdom, the condition of affairs the indiscretion of zeal might have corrupted. She hath distinguished the causes from the pretexts, she hath carried a light before truth in the darkness of these confusions, she hath fortified men's minds and produced examples both of doing well and suffering much,  
Clemency hath vanquished towns that were invincible to the force of arms and justice of the King's cause, she is never weary of pardoning, the more you draw of this fountain, the fuller it is, and the sweeter her water. She hath wisely mingled the victors with the vanquished, She hath given life to the guilty, to augment the number which do not live but by the glory of his bounty. It is the Altar of Delos, which Greece called holy, for that it never had been gored with any sacrifice. That Prince which is desirous to save much, must pardon much. His birth made him great, his fortune greater and his clemency greatest of all. If he had not pardoned so many rebels, he had not commanded over so many subjects: when his justice did represent unto him, that examples of punishments were necessary, his clemency answered, that the forests of France would not furnish gibbets, if He should believe her. Some one besought him to give him leave to carry the cannon against some that held his house, he demanded of him, What he would do when he had forced them▪ his choler made him answer, that he would hung them all. Whereupon the King sent him away with this mild reply, I have no Canon to that use.  
You powerful and warlike nations of the world draw your Princes from their graves, make them to live again with their trophies and triumphs, you shall not see any which shall march equal in clemency to ours. Where shall you find examples of this greatness of courage? Paris is the perpetual theatre of this clemency. He might have taken Paris, and the fear to lose it, makes him to neglect the taking.  
He besiegeth Paris, and supplies the besieged with victuals. He gives liberty to those that desire to fly from the miseries of the siege. He takes Paris, and makes the victor's condition in show no better than the vanquished, his enemies go forth with their arms, being grieved to be bound to him for their lives, whose death they had so often desired. They see him in Paris like a private Gentleman which visits his friends.  
Spain and Italy could not believe that he could trust himself in a Town which had so much offended him, and hold it for a miracle, that he had no feeling of these offences. There is nothing so corrosive that can altar the gold of his bounty. Whereof we shall see so many proofs in his History, as they that have not seen them will hardly believe them.  
All have had need of the force of his clemency, many have served as a Trophy to the power of his Arms, few have felt the severity of his justice, and many have found more profit to have been vanquished by his Arms, then to have resisted. This truth hath no need to be set forth with other colours than her own. It is an ostentation of ignorance, rather than of judgement, to seek reasons to prove a thing that is known to all the world. A lawful power hath no need of the colours of falsehood, to get belief that she is always moderate in her prosperities, and that her victories are neither cruel nor bloody. Tyranny, the most cruel of savage beasts, delights in flattery, which is the worst of domestic and tame creatures.  
He was both valiant and happy. He never lead men to danger, but he brought them back to glory. Occasions have often forced him to do the duties of a resolute soldier, having performed that of a great Captain. He hath always loved Achilles lawnce better than Paris harp. Never Prince hath run into greater dangers, encountered more glory, nor better used his victories. His valour was not without judgement, nor his designs without conduct. Minerva hath always carried a Torch before this Ulysses. As he hath had justice in his arms, wisdom in his counsels, vigillance, diligence, and fidelity in executions, sufferance in pain, and patience in occasions, so his victories have always been without cruelty or insolency. These three virtues have restored France unto her King, and the French unto themselves, the children are content with the follies of their fathers, and desire not to succeed them. From the effects of rebellion, they draw the fruits of obedience, they suck honey out of the stone and oil out of the flint. They that were hottest in sedition are become most zealous in duty, and it seems that famous sorceress hath made them more beautiful and more clear than before. If the severity of his justice would have used his rigour, it had pulled up many goodly plants the which being manured with clemency have produced many excellent and necessary fruits of obedience, service and merit.  
All the injuries of France were repaired, only one remained, the just feeling whereof binds these three powerful virtues to seek reveuge, justice declares war, Valour makes it, and Clemency ends it. The lightning which should be feared of those which are not touched with it, is ready to fall. justice shows the lightnings a far off, Valour causeth the thunder to be felt, and Clemency repairs the ruins, in a manner, as soon as they are made. The King numbers his journeys as he passeth by so many towns which he takes. His Canons echoing in the Alps amazeth all Italy. The Ambassadors of those Princes and commonwealths finding it lodged in places, whereas the Snow takes from their eyes the forms of houses, and the compass of the horizon, were so amazed as they thought that enchantment, taking from them the true substance of that which they sought, had substituted a fancy.  
That proud Rock of Montmelian, which some held to be an Acrocorinth, humbles itself: and Charles Emanuel duke of Savoy, who sought by his assurance to amaze or divert the mischief which did threaten him, submits himself wisely unto reason. Peace is confirmed on all sides, valour gives unto France the glorious title of mighty Empire, justice makes it the Empire of felicities, and Clemency augments the felicities of this Empire.  
After so many actions, more to be admired then imitated, and so many glorious labours comparable to those of Hercules, if fables may march hand in hand with truth, France doth acknowledge him for her Saviour, her Esculapius, her Restorer. But she cannot believe that her felicities are perfect, nor her safety assured, if her Prince do not justly carry the name of father of a Dauphin, as she doth acknowledge him father of the people. It is a great contentment for a King when as his subjects accounted his sterility among the public miseries, and that his infirmities engender not hopes but fears.  
The seal which the eternal providence adds to her felicity was the marriage of this great Prince, with her who may be said to be the only flower of Queens, as Florence which hath brought her forth is the flower of all the Cities of Italy. If the law of religion were as powerful as that of duty, they should appoint sacrifices unto her, as Rome did to the nurse of her two founders, for she is mother to three Princes, the lively and firm pillars of this estate, for whose lives France is more bound to heaven, than it should be for the death of all her enemies.  
Thus the great God who is the author of union and concord, did show that this peace was pleasing unto him, and added to this blessing two graces, which could not be expected but from his hands, both which make estates absolutely happy, for as children are the hopes of kingdoms, so are Queens the comforts of Kings. He who preferred wisdom before all other things that were offered unto him from above, saith, that such an encounter is the gift of God, and just recompense of merits, and he compares it to the Sun rising, to a Lamp before the Altar, to a piece of gold, to a foundation upon a Rock.  
As he had purchased the name of most victorious in actions of war, so he got that of most great in affairs of peace. He had caused himself to be feared and admired in one season, he maketh himself to be redoubted and beloved in another.  
Upon the height of this great tranquillity, he considers the winds and clouds that may trouble it. And as they that are near to mount Athos see the Sun sooner than others, he discovers with the first how designs rise, and how the affairs of the world are managed. His eyes are the stars which watch while the people rest. He hath no need to have a Page say unto him, like unto the King of Persia, Rise Sir, and take order for your affairs.  
He watcheth not simply as a King, but like a Pastor, Who hath more care of his flock then of himself. A royalty hath so long and troublesome watchings as David in his distempers desired not the wings of an Eagle to fly high, but of Doves to rest himself, for that they fly low near unto the banks, not of seas, whereas the spirit is always in pain, having to deal in two such inconstant things, water and wind; but of those rivers whereas they neither loose bottom nor bank, whereas the strange savour of the water doth not offend their stomachs, nor the fear of danger, nor distrust lest the calm should be turned unto a storm.  
His watches makes us to sleep in safety, breathing the sweet air of concord and felicity, so as France were no more bound to those which were the founders of their greatness, then to this Prince which was the settler of their rest.  
They should seem very ignorant, or malicious, that should not acknowledge the great vigilancy in the concord which was sometime unknown unto the French, by that furious division of minds, which made France like unto that Image of that unfortunate Laococon, the which is seen in one of his royal houses, and doth represent the extreme agonies of his father's death whom the serpents had slain, of the child's pains whom he had stung, and of his fear of another whom he had folded in his tail. He knew well what it was to fear, to suffer, and to dye at one instant by the violent cruelties and cruel violence of division, which in the end makes those places where she inhabits, like unto those whereas poison grows, so naked and bore of all fruit, as even the barren dust cannot remain there.  
The Gods of the ancients are represented with a harp in their hands. It is a pleasant thing to see Apollo of Megara to hold a lance in one hand and a harp in the other, not that Music was their profession, but the accord and harmoniacal proportion of estates and of people is their chiefest duty that command and reign, and that Prince may be compared unto the Gods who hold men's minds in concord.  
He can order and dispose of things according to seasons, his remedies are not contrary to time. A good temper makes all difficulties easy, and we may say that he hath in his disposition those two fabulous tons, out of one of the which goeth out the clouds which melt into waters, and from the other the winds which makes the rain to cease. The Panther after a continued rain doth not cast forth so sweet a perfume, as this peace doth seem sweet after a great inundation of blood and tears; And to the end this first bud, which did but show itself should not be withered with the winds of discontent, which were not yet pacified, and that private murmurings should not end with general complaints, he gave order to repair all things that were needful, and to cut up the roots that might breed trouble, and above all to make him serve in peace  
The praise, which is given a Prince for his Religion and piety seems superfluous, for there is not any one but should have it in perfection. To separate religion from a prince's heart were to draw a flower from the stock, the branch from the body: one cannot live without the other. He cannot have so little Irrelligion but he hath enough to do much mischief, and the lest errors that he commits are never small. The zeal of Religion, which serves for a pretext in the designs of great men, is the chief instrument which doth move the wills of the meaner sort, who cannot endure to be forced in their conscience.  
It is a folly in princes to think to reign over men and will not suffer God to reign over them. Besides the common obligation with all creatures, they are bound, for that their power depends of that of god, and their lands are of his land. They must like Ezechias reign under the commandments of God, and the law of God must reign over the people. While their King had care of the service of God, they were always well served. While the Ark appeared in the head of the army, and the Army honoured the Ark, the people of God passed no day without triumph. The harmony is admirable betwxit the Church and the State, Moses prays for josua, josua fights for Moses.  
Without the zeal of God's service Constantine had not merited that glorious surname which the Calendar of the Church of Constantinople gives him, of Apostle among Kings, of equal to Apostle, and other which the marble monuments have preserved for him, of founder of the public peace and defender of Religion, and of the faith. Without this zeal the two Theodoses should not be held the two firm pillars of Christendom, our Kings should not be called most Christian. Ravenna had not preserved in one of her towers this goodly inscription: Pipin the godly, was the first which opened the Pax to this great Church.  
This Diamond of Piety is so goodly in the heart of this Prince, as it hath no need of any foil to set it forth. Dotage and superstition are displeasing, and sometimes he laments the simplicity of those which are abused, and the covetousness of such as do suffer it, and for all this he doth not offer to lay his hand to the censor, or to shake the Ark, contenting himself (without wronging the piety of his fathers) to keep a just measure in the harmony of conscience; The greatest and most continued toil of all others, for he can never be so just, nor so equal, but some mallcontent will murmur. He must set divers instruments of providence to work, to distinguish the zealous, he must know the interest of those which make use of the King's authority to offend piety, and of those which make a show of piety to offend the King's authority, But he never gives ear to counsels nor to remedies which he knows to be more dangerous than the mischief, and having learned that faith must be manured by doctrine and not by arms, by the fire of Charity and not by the steel of might He leaves all the glory of the triumph of arms to heaven, and is content to see the combats for religion changed into disputations, the battles into conferences, the Canons into tongues, and the swords into pens. Man's minds grow more tame and give ear one to another: they which had go astray for company are reclaimed by example. Every one thinks of his own pack. And paradise is open for all men, get it who can.  
The ministers of Religion, being allowed by the King's Edict, labour to get ground: The Prelates of the Catholic Church having long relied upon the continuance of their possession seek out their titles which they had neglected, and produce them against those that troubled them, but the contentions of doctrine doth not touch the words of obedience, they yield unto Caesar that which is Caesar's, and unto God that which is Gods, every man renders an account of his conscience unto GOD, and his duty unto his King.  
Duties are performed without confusion, and there is not any one but knows, that whatsoever binds them to the service of God, exceedeth all other bonds both natural and civil. God before all, and all after the King, where there is question of God's honour, you must tread all human respects under foot; Therein the children are strangers, and the father's unknown. The fathers nourish their children, not with their bread, but that of God, and God hath redeemed them, not with his blood, but that of his son. Where there is question of the Prince's health, the life of those from whom we hold ours, or which holdeth from us, should not be more dear unto us.  
An estate or commonwealth may fitly be compared to a great family, the Prince is the Father ordained by God, but with more authority over his subjects then the father hath over his children, and duty is not more strictly commanded and recommended to children and servants towards the father of a family, then to subjects towards their King. This benefit of concord in matters so difficult to reconcile, bound the King to praise God, and the realm to thank the King, and to give him the glorious name of Chasemischiefe, which Greece hath given to Hercules, as to the author of their public safeties. Prince's cannot do more for their people, there is no benefit that doth equal this, and nothing doth so much augment their affection towards their Princes, as the remembrance of their benefits. God is worshipped and served by men, for the great good and benefit they receive daily, and the thanks that they yield unto him, are new demands.  
That great and necessary temper which the King brings to the preservation of the public concord, is not generally received for a certain proof of his piety, they will have it more manifest. Slander, who hath much tongue, and little forehead, who is not pleased but in licking ulcers, hath been so impudent as to refer the most clear and sincere proofs of his piety to hypocrisy, and to say that his mouth like unto Annius Satire, did blow both cold and hot. His enemies not able to believe, but that this vessel did still retain the savour with which it had been seasoned, said, that if his conversion had been true, it had produced the same effects which they had seen in those great Princes, who had declared themselves irreconcilable enemies to those whom they held to be forsaken of the true religion, not allowing temples nor altars to the subjects, being impossible that truth should agreed with lies, that josua could have intelligence with Achan, Samson with the Philistines, David with Goliath, Asa with the Idolaters, Constantine with Arrius, Theodosius with Nestorius, Martian with Apolinaris, and Eutiches; Saint Lewis with the Albigeois, and where the Ark is, Dagon must needs give place.  
Happy for thee, poor France, that these reasons which are not good at all seasons, nor in all countries, are no more whispered in thine ears; that these inhuman counsels which have made thee lose so much sense, and so much blood, are now banished from the thoughts of thy Princes. Counsels of Empirics and Mountebanks, no Christian counsels, and much contrary to the eternal wisdom which separateth the good grain from the bad until the harvest.  
If thou didst believe them, thou must open the wound which the sovereign balm of this concord had cured, and shouldest execute upon thine own children, who had so well served in thy restoration and liberty, the threat of Croesus against the Lamsachnes', to root them out like unto pine-trees, which being once cut do never put forth again. As the Piety of this Prince is slandered by strangers even so many of the religion, from whom he had separated himself, did believe that the necessity of his affairs, having forced him to this change, his heart had not consented unto it but only in show. A great spirit among them seeing where castle had hurt him, spoke thus boldly unto him, Sir, for that you have left us with the mouth only, God hath hurt you but on the lip.  
But both friends and enemies were forced to change this discourse, when as he would have the honour of Fountainbleau remain to the Catholic Church, when as they saw him press with such earnestness the Duchess of Bar his sister to be instructed; when as he had restored the mass in three hundred places from whence it had been banished; when as so often, in so many discourses he blamed the Intention of the first authors of these novelties: saying they had done like unto him that to cleanse his father's house sets fire of it to have it done the more speedily.  
Every man knows how he did comfort those, wcich had any thought to reduce themselves. When he saw them waver in the contrary opinions and that it seemed they would be instructed in that which they would not willingly believe, he added these reasons which were always most powerful. He told them that it is great presumption in children to know more than their mother, obstinacy not to be moved at the secret motions of the spirit, which breaketh and consumes presumption, reduceth vanity into powder, and mocks at the wisdom of the wise. He hath been often heard say, that he would have lost an arm, that they which were in error, had acknowledged the truth; but that faith was a gift of GOD, where unto he called all, but did not enforce any.  
Great is the bounty of God, who vouchsafeth to seek man, great is the rashness of man, who causeth God to seek him, and great is his felicity if he will be found. He therefore exhorteth the Bishops and Doctors, to entreat these sick men with gentle and easy remedies, and that the heat of passion should yield to wisdom and mildness. That royal speech came out of his mouth, they must be tamed, as they say Hercules did a certain Giant, which is (as they of the religion reproach it unto me) embracing them he should smother them. This piety had extended her branches beyond the seas. The Christians which are in the East confess that his respect had preserved many Churches, and that the marks of our redemption remain still in despite of the rage and envy of the jews, who vaunted that they had obtained the destruction thereof from the Emperor of the Turks. So many new houses of religion, of doctrine, and of piety, show with what zeal the heart of this Prince was inflamed, and that they may say of him as of Theodosius, that he had no less care of the affairs of the church then of his own. But this is not enough, Pope Clement the 8. doth not think that the church doth enjoy the full fruits of the peace which he had procured, unless the jesuits might return to their houses. The King restores them, nay rather he settled them in France; for they were not before as they had found by proof. His clemency defended them against the reasons of the first seat of his justice, against the tears of his eldest daughter the University of Paris. And although the fruits of the Olyve-tree come late, yet their liquor is good and wholesome. Even so as this grace had been long attended and pursued, nine years, it was no less sweet unto them that received it. It was published throughout all the world, thanks came from all parts, They of Peru, and Chochin, japan, Goa and China, added presents of some singularities of the Country. It was followed with the ruin of the Pyramid, with greatest effects of love and magnificence. He gave them his house of La Flesh with the garden. I have observed the pleasure which he took in speaking of that action and what content he received when as a great Cardinal told him that by this restoring his majesty had gotten two thousand learned pens for his service and perpetual fame: When as they represented unto him the Catalogue of Colleges, & the thanks of three provinces of France, He used these words unto them, which should serve as an Epigraphè upon all their houses, assurance follows confidence, I trust in you, assure yourselves of Me, with these papers I receive the hearts of all your company, and with the effects I will witness mine unto you. I have always said that they which fear and love God well, cannot but do well, and are always most faithful to their Prince. We are now better informed, I did hold you to be otherwise then you are, and you have found me other than you held me, I would it had been sooner, but there is means to recompense that is past: love Me, and I will love you, But the jesuits do not alone enjoy this sweet light of this favour; merit calleth other companies whereas they find great and worthy objects of this Prince's grace who applieth not there spirits but to the glory of God, and the public good, worthy to enjoy dignities, for that they had no desire to obtain them, capable to execute their charges, for that they fear not to loose them, and are content rather to deserve them then to pursue them. Among them he hath found great servants for God and his Church, and the choice which he hath made of their merit, hath given glory to his judgement. The Bishops and Pastors which he had chosen are Timothes in their houses, Chrysostom's in their pulpits, and Augustine's in disputation. Three Cardinals, made by his hand, have been found so accomplished in all virtues, as the conclave had not sought any other to fill the first chair of the Church, if the scruple of the beginning had not stayed it.  
The estate of piety and religion being settled in his estate, nothing wavers in the policy but he doth assure it, nothing stumbles but he raiseth it up again, and although he lives in the very centre, yet if there be any motion upon the extremities, his hand is there as soon as his thoughts. The sweetness of rest, the pleasures of peace, are not let to great voyages in the most difficult seasons of the year. Sedition gins to break out in Poytou, he disperseth it; the affairs of Normandy have need of his presence, he goes thither and gives order for the government of Cane; there is a division betwixt the town and citizens of Metz, but it vanished at the first beams of his eyes. His service is disturbed in some places of Gyenne, but at the first news of his coming, every one doth sacrifice to his obedience. Sedan hath the honour to make him arm powerfully, & they content receive him victoriously, and yet the victory brought them no other discommodity, but a forced obedience.  
In this great prosperity of his affairs, he yields the like to those which have relieved and assisted him in adversity, and which have served and followed him in his greatest crosses. All Europe doth honour him, as the first ornament of all that which he hath at any time produced of great and famous in sovereign houses. His word, fortified with this great credit and authority, hath such power in the hearts of earthly powers, as they hold it as the Oracle of that which they should do or avoid, and salute him with this glorious title, of Arbitrator of Christendom, and protector of their quiet.  
If the general good had not touched him nearer than his own particular, and if he had not had a lively feeling in his soul of the ruins which Christendom suffered by the division of her Princes, he had made his profit of the miseries of his neighbours. He had entertained the hatred betwixt Spain and England, whereof the roots were to deep. He had not refused the command of the Low-countrieses under the name of Protector. He had done his business beyond the Alps during the war of Ferrara, he had passed after the taking of Montmelian, and had disputed the rights of the houses of Orleans and Anjou.  
Pope Clement the eight considering all this, said, that the holy Sea was no less bound unto this Prince, for that he had retired his army from the frontiers of Italy, than it had been of former times to Charlemagne, in freeing them from the oppression of the Lombard's. The 2. pillars which supported her quiet, were shaken in the beginning of the Popedom of Paul the 5. Discord laboured to overthrow, and their ruin was at hand. Sicily by an earthquake was sometime separated from Apulia, and Spain from Africa, it was to be feared that Italy by this civil division would be pulled from the union of the Church. It seemed that the Pope was come to Ferrara to give the first blow, and that the Venetians stood ready with their Pikes charged.  
That great GOD which descending to the earth brought peace with him, and returning to heaven recommended it to his Apostles, would not that the Pope should remain long in the thoughts of war, nor that having drawn one sword against the Venetians he should strike them with another, punishing one offence with a double punishment. He would not suffer the Venetians to engage themselves in doubtful resolutions fit for such as are in some hard and desperate condition, which suffer themselves to fall into the fire after that they have of long avoided the smoke. He would that the King should be the author of this peace, and the Arbitrator of the controversy, he made it known that he dealt not in any thing but the event was happy, representing to the one & the other that the course they took to repair their interest by arms, was full of danger and scandal. The dispute was between the father and the children, and there could be no such bitterness betwixt persons so near allied but it might be mollified.  
love engaged their hearts one to another. the father lives more in his children then in himself. As the thing known is in him that knoweth it, so contrariwise he that loves is wholly in it that it loves. As soon as he had made these spirits apprehended the ruins and desolations which this discord should bring to christendom, they disrobd themselves freely of their interest, and gave them to the wise counsel of this Prince.  
If the Netherlands, after they had endured the fury and violence of war fifty years, do now taste of the sweetness of peace, they are bound to him. No man but he could govern those ulcerd spirits having so wisely foreseen and attended the times that the sore should be ripe and ready to open and to cure.  
The powerful and warlike Nation of the Swisses, which hath preserved the ancient discipline of arms, who purchased their liberty by nine battles, and maintained is at the charges of the Princes of Christendom who give them silver to have their friendship, have always believed that the alliance of this Prince made a part of their felicity. His name was so venerable, his authority so sacred in their assemblies as in pronouncing it many seeds of discord and division which began to grow have been suppressed, and fence the renewing of ancient treaties those people have thought that they lost all their thoughts, words and designs if they did not employ them to praise the virtue and fortune of this great Prince.  
He maintained his estate in peace, he did not suffer the flower to whither before it brought forth the expected fruits.  
He had a care to keep that Olive-branch, purchased with the price of his blood, hazard of his life, and the loss of the goodliest and most flourishing years of his age, always green, He yields liberty, concord, abundance and felicity to the French whereof civil division had deprived them, and representing unto himself the storms and tempest which did afflict Moscovy, Swedland, Poland & Persia, and the clouds which he did foresee would fall upon other provinces, he had been seen to lift up his eyes to heaven, whether he sent his best thoughts to acknowledge the prosperities which he had received, and turning towards his good servants, he spoke these words, God be thanked we have been as they are, upon the stage, but now we are spectators and courteous hearers. An inseparable acknowledgement in his soul, and an ordinary praise in his mouth.  
He refers all the conquest and restoration of France to the glory & virtue of God. He must have a soul well settled, in all her functions, and well composed, that doth not flatter himself in these encounters. All great Captains, speaking of their exploits, grace them either with their valour or with their wisdom, it is a wonder to see them give a greater share to fortune then to their own judgements, or confess that they are more bound to the favours of heaven, then to earthly powers. Only Moses was so temperate and modest as he never vaunted of that which he did. The greatest armies of the world compared unto his, are but troops of Carbines, for he commanded over a million and eight hundredth thousand souls, whereof there were two and twenty thousand levites, and six hundredth, three thousand, five hundredth and fifty fight men. It is a goodly sight in the history of the jews, to behold these twelve Tribes put into four battalions towards the four corners of the world, under four Colonels, and four Standards, whereof the first being green, had for a device a Lion; the second red, with a man's head; the third yellow with a Bull, and the fourth white and red with an Eagle. He makes no account of all this, but refers his victories to the invincible arm of the God of battles.  
The remembrance of the graces which this Prince hath received from heaven, is like unto a pure Crystal glass, which sends back the portrait unto his beginning, but he hath often been heard to speak these Royal words; When I was borne, there were a thousand other souls more borne, what have I done unto God to be more than they? It is his mere grace and mercy, which doth often bind me more unto his justice, for the faults of great men are never small. By the singular providence of the great God he hath brought France to a more happy estate than she herself durst hope for, whereas having scarce either pulse or spirit, after the death of the last King, she cast herself into his arms. He had been an Alexander in war for her, dangers have been his exercises, toils his delights, afflictions his pleasures. He hath maintained his affairs by courage and resolution, he hath unfolded the gordian knot of civil confusion: he hath forced all his enemies to turn their backs, and their faces to flight. His valour hath appeared in most desperate occasions, which could never amaze his judgement, nor shake his courage. He led his servants so safely and happily in dangers, as he might say unto them as Pericles said unto the Athenians, If no man but I lead you to death, you shall be immortal.  
He hath performed an infinite number of great and heroyck exploits with such diligence, as they that consider the combat and encounter of his Army, holds that it never stood still, and they that numbered the sieges it made, believed that it did always Campe. In the end he bound all his subjects to praise God, to see him seated in the royal throne of his fathers: He had made it stately in peace. In the beginning he found it all of brick, but he built it all of Marble. He adorned it with goodly works, whose beauty is not yet unprofitable, like to the Pyramids of Egypt, for besides the glory which did redound to the magnificence of this estate, it brings great commodities to Arts, manufactures, commerce and voyages, they ease the needy, employ idleness, and make her no less bound unto him, having restored their good orders, than Thebes to Pelopidas, and Athens to Thrasibulus, who had given them liberty.  
Policy which was unknown whilst that right was not seen but through the smoke of Harquebuses, and that France had as many Kings as Governors, now she discovers the injuries which are done unro the Law with the oppression of the poor people, she will not suffer the feeble to be ouerladen with the burdens which the stronger have cast upon them; that inequality shall not produce confusion, nor confusion mutiny, and that what hath escaped by the fury of arms shall not remain abandoned to the violence of Injustice, So as order having restored good blood into the veins, and given spirit to the heart of France, she doth enjoy happily the everlasting mines of corn, wine, salt, cloth and wool, for the which Peru pays for a tribute the half of that which is sent into Spain; for of eight millions four come into France, whereupon some one praising Spain for that there was only Pistols and Ryalls to be seen, and no other coin being currant; The King answered in these terms, Those coins in those Countries are marks of abundance, out of their country they are marks of necessary. They come to us, and we go not to them, they do not give them to us they own them as to their creditors. To make the felicity of France absolute, and to make it so strong, and powerful as after it shall seem an oak, which to brave the winds hath as many branches without as roots within, there is no frontier but sees her places in safety, no arsenal but is full of arms and Canons, and no garrison but is content with his entertainment. He makes a temple of Saturn of the Bastile to preserve his treasure and to defend him from the violence of necessity, the which hath often represented unto him how pitiful that Prince's estate is which is surprised and hath no means to resist, He acquitts his debts, pays his pensions, furnisheth his charges, and disingageth the demeans of his crown▪ His liberality dispenseth so justly the graces, which to have them continued long he poureth forth sparingly. He gave by reason, not by ostentation, & never did virtue lose her time in her pursuit, if first she lost not patience.  
All things are restrained within the bounds of duty, the magistrates have their eyes open, so as nothing can pass unpunished, and the mischief perisheth with the author. The first examples profit, the public impunity draweth on offences whereas punishment smothers them. The blows that fall upon the authors amaze others. phalaris did one act of justice shutting him into the Bull of brass that had invented it.  
Their are seditions whose beginning cannot be discovered, and those are most dangerous, resembling bushes which grow without sowing or planting; one branch joins to another, a thorn fastens to a bramble by such a thick conjunction as no man can put to his hand without harm, and if he set fire to it, it is able to burn a whole forest, and yet no man knows whence the fire comes. That eye which watcheth over Sceptres sees and foresees it. He suffers not bad words to have any alliance with murmerings, nor false bruits with rash judgements of public actions and enterprises, and that the subjects shall not seek to hold any other in the estate then that of obedience.  
The liberal sciences and professions durst not in the beginning promise' unto themselves any great relief from a Prince who in his youth had no other accademie then civil war, which opening the temple of janus doth always shut that of the muses▪ learned men spoke plainly that they should not attend of him neither the honours nor the praises which Plato received of Dennis, Possidonius of Pompey, Frontonius of Mark Anthony, Arsenius of Theodosius, nor Ausonius of Gracian, and they thought that the workmen could not be esteemed or cherrished but of such that loved the works. But as the fire and lightning comes out of the clouds that are moist and soft; the most ardent favours sometimes comes from wills that seem cold, for this Prince whom they held a Marius, showed himself a Caesar to all that professed learning. The exercises that flourished in the chief Cities of this Realm, the new buildings, and the new chairs adorned the Universities of France; the honours, dignities, pensions, and preferments which he had given in favour of learning, are certain proofs of his affections. And if our age doth produce Virgil's, he will be their Augustus, if Aristotle's their Alexander; if Polybius their Scipio; if Alcuinus their Charlemagne; for he draws from among the common sort, those which have more excellent qualities above the rest. He holds that it concerns a Prince in honour and duty to yield unto peace all the liberties and commendable exercises which war hath taken from her.  
The Romans did sometime place the Image of Hercules near unto the Muses, and the Greeks' gave him the name of Musagete, to show that the sciences have need of the force of Princes for their quiet, and Princes the favour of the Sciences for their reputation. All that have knowledge enter not into the Temple of his bounty, if they do not produce singular proofs of their knowledge; He will know them, try them, and prove them, whether their heads be as well made as well filled. Good God what a clearness of judgement is this knowledge? metal is not better known by the sound, than he doth judge of men's spirits by their words. Nothing can be held so covert & so close but he pierceth into it. He maketh no great account of those which have but a superficial show of sufficiency, & are like unto small wines which will not keep. From these judgements I have learned this goodly doctrine. For as small springs are emptied if they be often drawn, even so spirits which have shallow foundations; Silence is good in them to make them seem wise, distrust to appear advised, and reprehension to seem judicious. He doth not regard the vain and fruitless curiosities which extract the brain, and learn that which they must forget when they have learned it, The study of vain things is a toilsome idleness, and a painful folly. The spirits being once strooken with this disease, are cured very late, they spend whole nights to find how many knots were in Hercules' club, and of what colour Achilles beard was, and the end of their curiosity is always ignorance. He doth much commend those men which can speak of all things, and are like unto living libraries, whereas they find whatsoever they desire. He holds that doctrine perfect and solid, which doth not pass over difficulties slightly, but pierceth into them, and resolves them, and especially that which honoureth the public and profiteth the private.  
A maker of Anagrams presenting some thing unto him upon his name, & telling him that he was very poor; I believe it, answered the King, for they that use this trade cannot grow very rich. He was attentive to the discourses that were made in his presence, but he could not endure ignorant men to speak, when as learned men were silent, nor that they should hold their places. Athens could not endure Pothinus to play his comedies upon the theatre whereas Euripides had repeated his tragedies.  
It seemeth that many good and profitable inventions have been unknown in former ages, to appear under his reign, and to make nature jealous of art. And although that imposture & falsehood disguise themselves often with the habit of sufficiency, he doth not contemn the Inventors, he hears them willingly, remembering Alexander's repentance, who would not hear an unknown person, which promised to give him news within six days from places from the which he did not receive any in six weeks, & found him not when he had most need.  
But can we cast our eyes upon all his great and royal actions, and not admire that great modesty and temper which doth beautify them, which are not easily seen in great powers and authorities, which breeds a majesty confirmed by time, prosperity and reputation? Princes which have made their fortune, who have reigned long and have all according to their heart's desire, do commonly grow insupportable, and think to offend their majesty if they do not retire themselves from the sight of men. Alexander after the defeat of Darius did not use any salutation in his letters but unto Phocian and Antipater, A long reign makes a Prince's power so absolute and so fearful as he can hardly contain himself in that first moderation. Wherefore Tiberius and Nero were as much hated in the end of their empires as they had been honoured in the beginning.  
Their is no change in the good nature of this great Prince, he doth not abuse his good fortunes, he doth not think that his body yields a greater shadow after, then before his victories. They have often admired his great familiarity with his subjects and often he hath been heard say to free them from this wonder, Pomp and shows are for those which have no other means to make themselves to be esteemed, but God by his grace hath put enough into me to make known what I am, and at all events I had rather be beloved then feared. A royal speech. Love grows not from rigour, nor pride. The philosophers hold that bitterness brings forth nothing. Too great severity ruins in steed of edifying. A prince may be hated, although they which hate him are not hateful unto him; but he cannot be beloved unless he love. He which will be beloved and not love, is like unto him that seeketh to light a lamp at a torch that is quite out.  
Posterity will receive with more admiration than belief the tables of this incredible mildness and facility. I have seen Ambassadors so ravished and amazed, as going from their audience they have said that they wondered that the stones and rocks have not moved out of their places to serve so good a Prince. His moderation, which makes him so wise in affairs and so tractable unto reason, doth not suffer his spirits to wander in the designs of Cyrus, who did not limit his rest until he was tired with the vanities of his ambition, for he thinks in time what he shall do for himself when he hath no more to do for his estate, that my Lord the Dauphin shall be capable to reign and he in that part of his life which counsel Princes that have lived in torment to seek for a safe port.  
He gives the great toils of his youth to all France, and reserves the last season to his house at Fountainebleau.  
King Francis the first, her first restorer, had foretold that they should one day see her one of the goodliest ruins in Europe, The last troubles, verifying this prediction, had made it a retreat of wild beasts which durst not go to the Forests.  
He hath raised her ruins and hath beautified her with such perfections as she merits to be numbered amongst the wonbers of the world. The Duke of Savoy, The Duke of Mantova, the Duke of Virtemberg have admired it as the goodliest abode in Europe. There he resolved to attend some glorious occasion for the crouning of his life and toils to the good of Christendom. In this sweet solitariness, which is always environed with actions, exercises and affairs, he is pleased to quite the victorious Bays which shadow his forehead, to refresh himself in the shadows of those valleys which he hath planted; and to pass the time without any loss of time.  
When he is in his house, idleness doth not steal from him any moment of his hours, he is always in vigour and force, always fresh and in humour, always careful of his reputation. The older it grows the more careful it should be manured. His exercises in peace are no less laborious than his military actions, he enters into affairs before day, and with the break of day he goeth a hunting & followeth the Stags thirty leagues, at his return he gives himself to some other exercises, he ends the journey in his alleys, goes about his channel, & makes his whole train to sweated. He never steps foot, speaks a word, nor gives a look but with some design. There is no discourse so familiar, nor private favour which hindereth, but within an hour after he lets them know whom he hath favoured that he is the master.  
In this goodly and royal house he hath treated of the goodliest affairs in Christendom, and hath received great blessings from heaven. There he hath joyed at the birth of my Lord the Dolphin, of the Duke of Orleans, the Duke of Anjou, and of the Lady Elizabeth his eldest Daughter.  
This place hath produced that just and necessary Edict against the liberty and fury of combats, the happy fruits of peace, to spare and staunch the best and whotest blood of France, which was shed by this wound of the point of honour. The loss of blood is always suspect, if nature doth not consent unto it, not the Physicians ordain it. It is so necessary for the preservation of man's body, as from what part soever it goes, we must seek to stay it. The King was not content, with Numa to have the law which stays this blood within the body published, but he would like unto Lycurgus have it observed. In former ages they feared men more than laws, in his reign they fear the laws more than men.  
This exact and perfect observation, shows, that ordinances which were impossible to his predecessors, pass without contempt under the absolute and redoubted respect of his commandment. He was much grieved that he had no sooner used this remedy, and said, that he had not attempted it but when as he thought he might do it effectually and profitably. A noble man of Flanders came to demand leave of him to fight in France against another stranger. He answered him with this Dilemma, Combats are either permitted by God, or forbidden; if it be allowed why do you refuse it in Flanders? if it be forbidden; why do you seek it in France? there may be many and diverse Kings, but there can be but one God, one faith, and one law; and if there were no reason to the contrary, should I allow that to strangers, which I grieve that I cannot prevent in mine own subjects?  
A midst these public thoughts he doth not forget the private care of the breeding and institution of the Princes his children, the three mighty pillars of this estate. He hath a wonderful desire to see that royal plant which should succeed him, to grow and flourish, and said often to the Queen, that she could not have any meditation in her soul, nor prayer in her mouth of greater fervency and devotion, then to obtain the favour of God, to see her son well bred up, adding, that there was nothing so dangerous, as to be an ignorant King, sometimes calling those Princes that were ill brought up, golden Calves. When as he gave him those, who do at this day so carefully second his intentions, he spoke these words unto him worthy of so good a father, and so wise a King, My son, trouble not yourself for riches or treasure, I will leave you sufficient, but you must make yourself capable to get knowledge and virtue, which I cannot give you: If you yourself do not endeavour to attain unto it by those means which those will show you whom I have appointed to be about you. Prince's may be borne good, generous and capable of virtue, but institution only makes them wise: wisdom cannot be gotten without pain, she cannot be sold, and it may be she should found few Chapmen, for folly is bought daily.  
Realms have an interest in the breeding of their King's children, and the care that comes from them should be sacred unto them. Romulus to make trial of his force cast a javelin from mount Auentin to Palatine, the which entered so far into a far soil, as it could not be pulled out, the end of the dart which was of a Ceruicetree was covered with earth, took root, cast forth branches and become a great tree, the which was walled about and preserved with so great care, as if any one saw the leans but whither, or that it had need of watering to keep it green, he gave an alarm to the whole City and cried for water, as if all had been on fire.  
In like manner subjects have cause to grieve and complain when as these plants from whence they hope for fruits of justice, and the shadow of their rest, do whither, being negligently cleansed, watered, and manured.  
Amid all this he is wonderfully careful of his majesty, and to maintain this great reputation which makes his life admirable to the whole world. They have no other discourse in the Cabinets of Princes nor in the Senates of commonweals, but of his heroical actions and of his just and perfect felicities. They are wonderfully amazed to see a Prince in former-times so hated, to be so beloved, a Prince so persecuted to be so happy, a Prince so valiant to be so mild, a Prince so good to be so feared. His name is known to Nations which do not know him, he is of such authority as he prescribes a law even to those which will not receive it but by force. They of Holland and Zealand have carried it unto the 70. degree, and those countries deserve not to be known, which do not know his reputation. Reputation the Manna and Nepenthe of generous spirits, the goddess of great courages is so delicate, as the lest excess doth blemish it, an unjust enterprise dishonoureth it, an act of indiscretion, negligence, or idleness doth deface it, and a sinister success ruins it. It is a spirit that goes and returns no more. They report that water, fire, and reputation, undertook to go throughout the world, and fearing they should go astray, they gave signs one unto another: Water said that they should find her where as they saw reeds, and fire whereas the smoke appeared, lose me not said reputation, for if I get from you, you will never find me again. There is no such misery as to survive one's reputation, nor so great a folly as to put it in hazard. They commend that brave archer, who refused to show his skill unto Alexander; fearing to lose that honour in an hour, which he had gotten all his life. In the course of the Olypmpic games, he that fails in the ambitious hopes of the first crown, may pretend the second, or the third, but in this course of Royal virtues, who so cannot obtain that of reputation, shall reap small fruits of the rest, he is presently contemned, and to use the terms of this great Prince, he may well say, that the chain is broken, for after that he is once grown into contempt he always declines. They say a Prince should never see the portrait of fear but on his enemies back, but there are two kinds of fear excusable, the one within against conspiracies, and the other without against the power and designs of strangers. He shall prevent the first in doing nothing that may make him contemptible and odious to his subjects, and force & arms shall defend him from the other.  
A great King that will not have his majesty strike against this dangerous rock of contempt, must always bend his thoughts to great actions, for great Princes are not known but by their great enterprises, God shows that he is God by the greatness of his works. If he builds it is a world, if he be angry against the world he sends a deluge, if he will show his love that he bears to the world, he suffers his son to dye upon the cross to save the world, if he will recompense the world it is with his paradise; If he arms, the Angels march in the head of his army, the Elements are the Marshals of his Camp, the Rocks remove from their centre, and follow it to give it water, the clouds guide it by day, and pillars of fire by night, the Sea opens in twelve parts for her passage, and the sun stays to give it time to end her victories. If there were any proportion between that which was finite and infinite, we may say, that in like manner a King, which will be always held a King, should not do any thing but should tend to greatness.  
Wherefore considering that many great Princes had lost, in the pleasures of peace, the glory which they had purchased in the danger of war, he labours incessantly to preserve this great authority, credit and general reputation. His spirit, which is quick and active, like unto the highest element, hath no rest but in travel, nor content but in pain. The issue of one design, is the entry into another. But as all things are maintained by order, that the temples of the Gods are not made of base stuff, the reputation of this great Prince proceeding from great and incomparable actions, must be preserved and increased by great and admirable effects. Princes which go not out of their Cabinets, whose lives are like unto Oysters, always shut up in their shells, who cause themselves to be kept like unto the fire of the vestal virgins, and are like unto those Idols that have hands and use them not, feet and go not, do always survive their reputation.  
Behold in an Instant a great and mighty Army which draws upon it the eyes and thoughts of all Europe. If we shall judge of the design of this Prince by his courage and good fortune, what triumph shall he not hope for? We see the bow bend, but no man but the Archer knoweth whether the arrow shall fly. He hath no cause of fear neither within nor without the realm. All Princes speak according to his hearts desire, and yield to what he demands. He knows their forces and searcheth into their designs. The desire to be understood without sending either letter or post, hath invented the Cipher of the Adamant, by the which they imagine, that when as the character is touched it moves in the counter-cipher a hundredth leagues from thence. The hearts of all princes are like letters of Adamant, the King carries the Alphabet, they do not move near, nor far of, but he understands it.  
Charge great King, Charge, where and when you please. If the God of Arms be for you, who can be against you? the lightning makes way through the darkest clouds, and your designs shall shine amidst the greatest difficulties. They shall succeed otherwise then men think and in places not foreseen, like unto divedoppers, who casting themselves into the water rise again where they are not looked for. And admit you had no design, neither on this side the river of Rind, nor behold the Alps, it is sufficient to show what you can do when you please to execute that which is difficult. They judge of the monstrous greatness of Polyphemus by the measure of his finger: we must consider of this Army what the power of your Majesty is.  
When we behold you in this height of glory our discourse is changed into admiration, we do like unto those people who, adoring and admiring the sun, can do no other thing but lift up their hands and set them to their mouths. Admiration begins and silence ends their homage. Your felicity is so absolute as you have no need of felicity, your subjects are so happy under your Empire, as they can desire nothing more than that it may be perpetual.   

Stay Reader.  
BEhold a strange passage, from a Triumph to a Tomb. I had prepared this discourse as a Table of the Kings most memorable actions,, and did desire to end it by the great effects which were expected of that mighty Army, which was upon the frontier; but in a moment all my thoughts were overthrown, and this remainder, which should have been beautified with the trophies of his arms is filled with the mournful spoils of his life. As sometime the City of Athens was at one instant transported with great joy for the happy return of Theseus from his voyage of Candy, and afflicted with exceeding grief for the death of King Aegeus his father, witnessing both the one and the other passion by that cry, which since hath been solemnly observed by the Oschophories 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 whereof the first is a sound of triumph and courage, and the other a voice of amazement and affliction; even so France full of contents, and apt to receive greater, saw itself it an instant plunged in a gulf of sorrows and afflictions for the execrable parricide committed on the sacred person of her King.  
This misery, the bottomless spring of sorrows and complaints, hath made this Panegyre imperfect, for whereas it should have ended by the glory of things done, I cut it off with the hope of that which was to do. It shall have perfection enough if it may appear among so many goodly and rich pieces, which the mournful Muses have erected about the tomb of this great Achilles. They have not ceased these ten months, to honour him with crowns of all prices, of all fashions, and of all sorts of flowers. What may be done more? behold some leaves which they have left all bathed with tears, the which as much obliged as many, but less diligent than any, I add unto this public sorrow.  
If any one say that I perform this duty too late, this grief is always in season. It is so extreme and violent, as it grows more bitter by consolation, it resists reason, it is renewed with time, it is comprehended more by feeling then discourse, constancy cannot vanquish it, nor wisdom dissemble it. I wept when as all the world spoke, and now when as the time of mourning wipes away tears, I continued and renew my complaints. My afflictions increase when as I hear of consolations. Sorrows grown to a custom, are pleasing to miserable men, the objects revive them, and the History of this great King, which is the Rock I roll daily, furnishing me at every moment wherewith to make his life to be admired, gives me but too much subject to lament his death. Farewell Reader, and pass on.   

A Funeral Discourse of the sudden death of the most Christian King Henry the fourth.  
YEsterday Saint Denis was all in triumph, Paris should have been after to morrow, & this day all France mourns, all Frenchmen are full of affliction. Thus the clearest days have their storms, the evening is not answerable to the calmness of the morning, nor to the clearness. of the noon day. Cloudy rocks deceive Mariners, and ships are lost where they think themselves safest. Pleasures smother them that embrace them; sorrow and delight hold so fast together, as they are as inseparable as a convex superficies from a concave.  
Let us speak more plainly, betwixt the high and flourishing glory of the greatest King of the world and his fall, there was but the twinkling of an eye, the turning of a hand, and the stay of a Caroche. There was a night betwixt being and not being of a mighty City of the Guales, but here there is but a moment. A moment so full of wonders and mysteries, as it is able to entertain the mind of man day & night in deep meditations. A moment which may better be considered by silence then by discourse. A moment which giveth fear unto the faithful, amazement to the profane, and sorrow to all men.  
An arrow shot from towards Egypt, slew josias in his Chariot. Henry the fourth, the first King of Christendom, the greatest Captain of Europe, & the best of the French kings, who never was in any place but a victor, and who never desired victories but for the good of the vanquished; who was chosen of God to march first with his thundering sword to revenge the injuries and raise the ruins of Christendom; who was a David in courage, a Sa. lomon in wisdom, and an Ezechias in zeal; who in the felicity of his days, may justly be termed the Christian Augustus, for that there never had been a general peace but under his reign; who made it known what a great judgement could do in a great fortune, a great modesty in a great power; victorious over so many armies, and triumphing at so many sieges, combats, enterprises and encounters; Henry upon whom all eyes were turned, his Heroical virtues commended, his will respected, and all his actions admired; Henry redoubted of all Sovereign powers, advanced to the height of worldly greatness and full of all sorts of contents, happy in war, happy in peace, happy in wife, happy in children, and happy in every thing, is miserably and treacherously slain in his Caroche, and passeth from one life to another in a moment.  
This fatal and disastrous moment, engaging us for so many years in mourning and sorrow, is the day of the death of our prosperities, and the birth of this Prince's life. The first day of the fift month of the fifty seventh year of his age must be called his day, for how long soever man's life be he hath properly but one day that may be termed his. The hour which thrusts forth his last gasp is his hour, all the rest is no more his. Whatsoever he hath done in his life is considered by this day, the judge of all his other days, the most difficult Catastrophe of the tragedy of man's life. He that is the author of the first and disposeth of the last doth only know it, foresees and mocks at man who thinks he is far from it. Before the last sand of this last day be run, he cannot crown his felicity: we must praise safety after dangers, navigation in the port, and victory in the triumph. Who can commend his life and hold himself so happy while that the time past ministers unto him matter to lament, and that which is to come to fear? This day was feared of all men, yet not expected of any: Every man did apprehended it as the period of some great revolution, but for that they held it to be a far of the opinion of the length of time did moderate the apprehension, and the less it was foreseen the more fearful it hath proved.  
And who could imagine so great a mischief in the midst of so many prosperities, or foresee this storm in so great a calm? If any one amidst this general joy and content should but have thought of these accidents, they would have held his brain to have been troubled with the fumes of melancholy, they would have laughed at him as they did at Anaxagoras, who came to the Olympic games in a great gown, for that the day was so fair and the air so cleeere, as there was no show of reign, and yet presently after it poured down in great abundance.  
We saw this Prince in the Solstice of felicities and contents, it seemed that the world, hope, nor fortune could produce any thing more perfect, that the stars were of his intelligence, that the Intelligences guided his designs, and misfortune which may fall upon any man could not fall upon him, that the lightning of heaven which had often fallen near unto him and not hurt him, would respect his tables as it had done those of Hercules. I am forced to confess that the bright shining beams of this great felicity, and of this powerful reputation dazzled mine eyes, I could not behold it firmly, my sight could not found any object that might equal it, I saw nothing beyond this King greater than God, neither did I see any thing on this side God more mighty than this King.  
I had known the world sufficiently never to doubt of her vanity and inconstancy, and although this knowledge be long, yet the life of man is not too short to learn it, but the proofs are dangerous. Since the time I had the honour to see and examine strictly the actions of this great King, I felt this knowledge to altar in my soul, and doubting of that which was not questionable, I began to believe that which was altogether uncertain. I did consider what he had done, and what he would do, I saw him redoubted of his neighbours, well served at home, his power much respected and admired abroad, his affairs assured, his counsels sound, his Arsenal full of arms, his Bastile full of gold, his house of blessings, his realm of prosperities, and his spirit of great designs; the Princes kept short, the greatest made humble, the parliaments ready at his commands, the subjects to praise that whereof in former times they had complained, and Orpheus statue to sweated at the bruit of his designs, and the admirable preparation of his arms. So great and mighty a preparation as if he would have limited his designs by the river of Rind they would have entreated him to rest satisfied with all that is on this side.  
In the admiration of all this I said unto myself. Behold an age of wonders, the order of the world is changed, this Prince understands it, he seeks an unknown way, he will settle a new belief of the stability of worldly things, he will fix a nail to stay fortunes wheel, he will let us see that which we durst not hope for.  
They say that jupiter during the combat between the Grecians and the Troyans', when as the Gods were divided among themselves for the one and the other, cast forth a great thunderbolt which amazed both parties. As France is ready to pass the frontier to encounter some object worthy of her power, behold the terrible and fearful blow which strikes amazement into all the world, behold that tragic moment which mocks at my discourse, and makes me see that these great shadows did betoken the suns setting.  
In the Image of this fatal day, I represent unto myself that of Philip, father unto Alexander, who in the 46. year of his life, and the 24. of his reign, resolved to pass into Asia, and to prescribe a law to the persians, he consulted with the Oracle to know the Issue of his design, and it was told him that the ox should be crowned to be led unto the sacrifice, he thought that the King of Persia should have been the oblation: and to begin to give thanks to the Gods of victories, which he held but in hope, he ordained sacrifices, plays and public feasts, and prizes for learning arms, and music; he invited all the Cities of Greece to this public joy, & to make it the more stately, he added the solemnity of the marriage of Cleopatra his daughter with Alexander King of Epirus, this great content did so blind his eyes from seeing the mischief which should deprive him of life, as Neoptolemus singing an hymn during the feast, which at every change spoke of the vanity of great Kings and how that death crossed their designs, all which he took for his advantage, as a prediction of the ruin of the King of Persia.  
The next day he went unto the theatre to see the plays, and showeth himself with a majesty contrary to the ordinary of Kings. His Image followed twelve statues of the Gods, after which he marched, and to show that he had no distrust of the Grecians he would not have any guards about him. In a moment fortune, which never gives great contents for nothing, changeth this pomp into mourning.  
Pausanias who did smother in his soul the revenge of an injury, seeing him in this estate, advanceth, and drawing a sword from under his rob thrust him in to the flank and slew him.  
But who so knoweth that this murderer being grievously wronged by Attalus could obtain no justice from Philip, will abate much of the amazement, the which cannot be diminished in this other accident, for the King is miserably murdered by a man who never had any cause to complain of him. I do not hold it strange that the Emperor Maximin was murdered in his tent with his wife and children. nor that the soldiers cried out that not any one of a wicked race should be left alive. For besides that these violences were ordinary in the Roman Empire, he took away the goods, honour, and lives of Citizens without form of justice: I am no more amazed that Antiochus did breed worms in his flesh, he had left lively marks of his impiety in the Temple.  
I am silent when I see Attalus King of Pergamo, reduced to extreme misery, and Pyrrhus pursued by Fortune both by sea and land, and Cambyses fall upon the point of his sword, and Aristobulus vomiting forth his soul with his blood. The first had slain his mother and his wife, the second had spoiled Proserpinas Temple; the third had murdered his brother and his sister being with child, and the fourth had put his mother and his brother to death.  
But I am amazed to see a Prince who deserveth to be called the delights of mankind, encounter with a death so unworthy of this great and incomparable bounty. A Prince so great, so good, so merciful, so wise, so happy, so redoubted, so valiant, was worthy of another age and of another end.  
But when as I present him to myself like a Lion, who being as often victorious as assailed, is in such reputation of his own force, as it doth amaze with the terror of his eyes those that mean to assail it, and that I see him slain by a fly, for there is no greater disproportion betwixt these two creatures then betwixt him and the Parricide, all my thoughts are confounded, I know not where I am.  
The most humble and staid spirits seek to examine that which the Philosophers call destiny, a certain necessity, imposed unto things, and 'cause her to come from above, or from supposed principles, as from the concurrens of the Atoms of Democritus, or the imaginations of the soul of the universe, or from the order or course of causes, or from the influence of the stars.  
The pure Doctrine terms it A disposition of the divine providence of that which regards the adventures and events of the being, and of the inferior life. A disposition which being eternal & immutable, as being in the spirit of God, doth not impose any necessity, and in that she carrieth her effects into things that are human and created, she is temporal, mutable and contingent. So as man being considered as temporal, he is under destiny, but in his principal part, which is immortal, he is not subject unless he list. The stars have no power over his will. The action of destiny, upon the matter is necessary, the effect is not. It may be prevented by vigillancy, care, wisdom and other helps from heaven, and yet in doing nothing but what we will there happens nothing but what God knows shall succeed.  
All that is in God, is God himself, the knowledge of God is his essence, his essence is immutable, and so consequently his knowledge is invariable, all that he knows is infallible, and yet this knowledge doth not impose any necessity upon the actions and wills of men, for this knowledge compared unto things created, is like unto the knowledge of the workman upon his work, the which is not the cause; it is the will of the workman, without the which the work should always remain conceived and framed in his mind and be never seen. The Ideas which are in the understanding of God, are the forms and beginnings of all things, wherefore the knowledge of God is not the cause, for the actions do not proceed from the knowledge, but by the means of the will which commands, and of the power which executes; and therefore the knowledge of God is not the cause of things which are bad, and whereunto his will cannot incline, for good cannot be the cause of bad, and from the necessity of knowledge, we may not conclude the necessity of actions.  
That eternal wisdom whose secrets are unknown to men, and shall never be deciphered but at that day, when we shall see his majesty drawn in a chariot through the clouds, hath suffered this mischief to fall either to free and deliver this Prince from some greater, or to afflict this realm or to make it an example to all the Princes of the earth, or to show that the world and all her greatness are but a shadow, dust and wind.  
The great God who is the judge of life and death, hath disposed of the life of this Prince by so fatal and mournful an accident, to the end France should know that they be the effects of his great justice, who being offended at the excess of this people, with the daughters of Moab, commanded Moses to 'cause all the Princes and heads to be hanged in the sight of the sun, to the end his fury might be diverted from Israel.  
He gives wayward and difficult Kings to the people, and takes away good, when as he seethe they are unworthy of the one and have need of the other.  
He will of that these execrable blows, as of so many vipers, Princes should compound a treacle against the pride, ingratitude and blindness of their lives, unto the end they may truly apprehended whence they are come and whether they should go.  
What shall those proud spirits think who can never humble themselves, when with the eyes of their thought they shall enter into this Caroche and view this great King slain in the midst of seven great noblemen of his court, by the poorest wretch of his Kingdom? Can they have a better lesson to teach them the misery of their condition? Let them advance their designs, and grow never so proud they shall be like unto those mystical trees, which decayed, when as from the tops of them they might discover the sad ruins of ancient Troy.  
when in this folstice of greatness and worldly felicity, they shall behold the tomb of this great King, their pride must needs fall and their ambitions grow humble.  
Swell all thou canst human arrogancy, thou art but a shadow and no more. Take the wall of the Gods if thou wilt, all thy glory is but wind. let Belus usurp the name of God if he list: let Ninus or deign altars for his father: let Nabucadonosor 'cause himself to be adored, let Clearchus the tyrant of Heraclea carry the lightning for his device, and call one of his sons thunder: let Alexander term himself the son of jupiter Ammon: Cesar go equal with the gods, Augustus hold himself the Son of Apollo, Nero take the crowns from the Altar of the Gods, to adorn his bed, Domitian disdain his mother to call himself the son of Pallas, Caligula take of the heads of the Images of the Gods to set on his own, Commodus hold Mercury's Caduce in his hand, let Marcellus being in Spain suffer Crowns to descend upon his head with artificial thunder and lightning. Let the King of the Molossians play Pluto in his Court, and call his wife Proserpina his daughter Ceres and his dog Cerberus, yet they are men, and in this word are comprehended all the vanities and miseries of this world. They are but weakness in their birth, inconstancy in their life, and stinking putrefaction in their death, compassed in with a thousand miseries as soon as they come out of their mother's womb. Their pride is but smoke which vanisheth as it riseth, and in the end draws tears from their eyes. The greatest Princes of the world have humbled themselves as often as they have considered that they were but men, and that it might happen in an instant they should be no more what they were, or should be somewhere else, or not at al. earth earth earth says the voice of the Prophet. hear the word of the Lord We must have ears to hear them of men, but our eyes only will hear that of God. We understand him in seeing these great & terrible accidents. Earth which comest from earth: earth which art fed with earth: earth which remainest on earth: earth which goes to earth, earth in thy birth, in thy life and in thy end, behold the greatest of the earth returns to earth.  
Emperors, Kings and Princes, you are but dust, know it; your crowns depend of God, acknowledge it: your days roll and slide away like a wave: your life is more frail than the wind; an earthen vessel handled gently and preserved carefully may be long kept; But howsoever you care for your lives, they must needs break and dissolve. Your greatnesses are but heaps of snow, which we see melt into water from whence it comes: your life is like a lamp exposed to the wind, the which is put out with every puff  
The mournful sight of this Carosse binds you to consider of the great & wonderful distance which is betwixt God and you. The names show the difference. EL signifies force, support & the foundation of all; Adam Imbecility, infirmity, and so feeble a thing, as it cannot stand of itself. Your days are compared to the shadow of a Torch, the which vanisheth, it being put out: the weakest differs not so much from the most valiant, & the meanest from the most excellent: as a mortal thing from that which is divine: Mortal and divine are opposite and contraries. Accursed flattery doth blush for shame when she sees the Heathen deal otherwise with great men. The town of Athens received Pompey with these words. For as much as thou holdest thyself to be a man, we esteem thee a God. Those great Cedars of Libanus are overthrown at the lest puff of death, which make shepherds equal unto kings. & who having come to the old age of some, hath laid ambushes for the youth of others. That this great Prince is dead, it is the course of nature, and the law of the universe. He hath run the same course which 63. Kings of France have done, and which all his successors shall do. It is a folly to complain of life, and to be troubled at one's end. He that is grieved at death, is grieved that he is mortal, and his grief comes too late, for he should grieve at his birth, which makes him mortal, and not at his death which makes him immortal.  
That it was violent, great Princes are subject to these misfortunes. The Roman Empire had more Emperors slain by their guards, then by their enemies. As the birth and funerals of Princes have more pomp than others, so hath their death more amazement. That he is dead suddenly, it is the sweetest death, for it takes fear & apprehension from death, which is most troublesome. But that he is dead with the reputation of one of the greatest Princes of the world: it must needs be the effects of a wonderful glorious life. To dye in the brightness of great designs, is to brave death itself, and to revive and live again. The last gasp of such a death, hath no pain, and there is comfort in the shortness. It is nothing, said, that Prince in dying. Death which seemed to be the west and sunset of his life, was the Meridian of his glory. Never Prince carried his life farther into death: for it seems he passed without any midst from one extreme unto the other death.  
The coloss of Rhodes, one of the wonders of the world, was no less admired being beaten down then when it stood, when as they saw that with one of the fingers they might make many great statues. In like manner as long as they saw great Henry like a coloss of the wonders of Heaven, a maister-peice of the almighty power, the world admired him; but when as they saw that from his incomparable actions, and the lest effects of his reputation, they might draw perfect Images, and assured examples of virtues necessary for Kings, this admiration was changed into ravishment.  
A theatre of virtues▪ He that will frame his heart to pure and simple piety, let him consider his zeal to the service of God, his bounty to Churches, and his care for the concord of Consciences. He that will see justice, let him behold it in his laws and in his arms: who so desires truth, let him examine his words and his promises. He that knows not wherein magnanimity doth consist, let him represent unto himselfelfe the crosses which he hath encountered, and the dangers which he hath surmounted, He that labours to know constancy, let him admire his fortune. He that will learn the true use of liberality, let him observe what he gives and what he refuseth, how he gives in refusing, & how he demands in giving. He that seeks infallible proofs of wisdom valour and moderation, let him think of his designs, note his combats, and consider his victories.  
He that hath desire to erect trophies unto clemency, let him number the enemies which he hath vanquished, saved and recompensed, left them their lives and restored their honours. Of wrongs received he hath given some unto time, many to repentance, and all to his bounty. This death was violent by the stroke of that parricide arm, but it was not by the will of him that received it; as he desired not death so he feared not his hour. He had been so often and in so many dangers confronted by her, as he attended her everywhere resolutely and with an assured constancy. He hath been often heard say, that he would never refuse to drink of that cup.  
He did not care whether it were by a fever or by the sword, whether the gate were open or broken. He was not of the humour of Aristides of Locris who dying of the biting of a weasel, was grieved that he had not been bitten by a Lyon. He thought that this present, whether it were brought by a Raven or by a Dove, came from heaven, and by his appointment who only knows the number of our days.  
Being at Fontainbleau in November last, and discoursing which was the best kind of death: He concluded with Caesar for that which was sudden, adding, that he would willingly be shot in the head with a Cannon, that day that he should win a battle for France. Epaminondas commanded that they should draw out the dart wherewith he was wounded, and did willingly embrace death which came to salute him in the midst of the acclamations for a victory which he had gotten for his country. All Greece did conjure and invire Diagoras the Rhodian to run unto death, after he had seen his three sons Crowned at the Olympic games. As he did not separate action from life, so would he not have glory separated from death, nor that the length of abode should prejudice the suddenness of the issue. He held them miserable, who had nothing but years to prove that they had lived, and them more miserable, who had survived their reputation. Alexander in his opinion was happy, for that he died young, in the progress of his reputation, and Cyrus wretched for that the length of his life had exposed him to the change of his fortune.  
He that thinks of the life of the soul, may desire a goodly death for the body, and all her beauty doth consist but in the honour. The ambition to yield up the last gasp gloriously, is always commendable in a Prince, who cannot too much desire honour, nor too much contemn all the rest. It is the continual object of his eyes and heart. Gold which is but earth, more purified than the rest, and riches which are lost on the earth are for men, whose spirits are full of earthly vapours, honour is for the Gods, and for those that are esteemed near unto the Gods.  
A generous life runs unto a death different from ordinary men, such a death as many Princes of that venerable and courageous house of Bourbon, have desired and encountered; james of Bourbon Constable of France, and Peter of Bourbon his son, died at the battle of Brignay, near unto Lion; Lewis of Bourbon at that of Azincourt, john Duke of Bourbon, the first of that name, was taken prisoner there. Francis of Bourbon Duke of Chasteleraut, was slain at the battle of Saint Bridget; Charles Duke of Bourbon at the taking of Rome; john of Bourbon duke of Anguien died at the battle of Saint Laurence; Anthony of Bourbon Duke of Vendosme and King of Navarre, was slain with a harquebus shot at the siege of Rouen, Lewis of Bourbon Prince of Condy, died at the battle of jarnae.  
This great Prince would not end his life otherwise, thinking it unworthy of a great courage to languish betwixt a desire of life, and the fear of death, and to quite for the interest of his abode, sometimes the use of a member, half Eyes sight, and all his hearing, and to submit himself to the discretion of pain and old age.  
His desire was not like unto ours, we would have wished to have seen him sand up his soul quietly to the place of his beginning after a long continuance of years, and the glorious ending of his designs, that the Queen had closed up his eyes, that the Princes his Children had received his blessing, the which is of such efficacy, coming from the mouth of a father, as many have thought that Oracles and prophecies were not more certain: we would have desired that he had had time to teach his son, as he said, the knowledge of good and evil, that his death had been like unto theirs, who sung dying, and who died singing the graces which they had received from the hands of the Almighty.  
But as death is certain, so the form is uncertain, we see round figures fall otherwise then Cylinders or Triangles, life ends not all after one manner, the fruits of one tree fall not all at one instant, some are gathered before they be ripe, others fall of themselves; some are snatched away, some pulled gently, and the violence of the wind and hail beateth them down indifferently.  
As he lived and is dead after an other manner then other men, so the sorrow for his death, was different from that of other Kings. He had lived triumphing, he died in the assurance of a great triumph, his body being carried to his grave did go under triumphant arches, he hath passed triumphantly beyond the firmament, where he sees God, lives with God, is in God, and knows the truth of the glorious relations which had been made unto him of the City of God.  
In a moment, by the loss of some years which seemed to remain of a painful and laborious life, he purchased eternity. For suddenly upon the feeling of this mortal wound, he turned his eyes towards heaven, and carried his thoughts whether his extreme afflictions did conduct him. we must not demand whose they are which are afflicted, nor whereon they think. Affliction makes men forget the world, when they must think of heaven. Affliction is the livery of the servants of God. Heaven speaks upon jordan and upon mount Thabor to advow the son of God, but at his death it is silent, for that the cross is sufficient to declare what he is.  
He who is in all places where he is called on, God in the crib, God on the cross, God in the grave, and God every where, who hears jeremy in the mire, Daniel in the den, who makes a palace of a stable▪ of a Thabor a Mountain, of a Calvary a Paradise, makes of this Caroche an Ark of propitiation, and sends his Angels thither to assist this soul, all gored with blood, going forth of an innocent wound, nay rather all bathed and covered with he blood of the Lamb which was slain from the beginning of the world. He receives this generous, courteous and meek soul, which never refused his grace to any one that sought it.  
That great and unspeakable mercy fortify us in this belief, and the same truth which recommends mercy unto men; for that God is all mercy, and will rather cease to be God, then to be merciful, who promiseth mercy to those which shall be merciful. This great King who in the whole course of his life hath done nothing but remit offences, who hath not only pardoned but forgotten them, not only forgotten but recompensed them, hath found in heaven the fruits of mercy which he had sown upon earth. His offences are remitted that doth remit; he that demands grace and shows it not, is like unto him that ruins a bridge over which he is to pass. He which showeth grace to his inferior, is assured that his superior will not refuse it him. It were blasphemy to think that God will be vanquished by his creature. He is pleased to show his great succour in great accidents, Man falls, and he comes from heaven to give him his hand. He had many other means to have raised him up, but his love found none more fit. He might have suffered this Prince to have died otherwise, but his mercy had not been so apparent in any other kind of death. He calls these terrible and sudden encounters to the absolute power of his bounty, where as man hath scarce the time to contribute a thought or a sigh. Moreover the Church having in her institution bound all Christians to pray for the health of all Kings and Princes, there is no doubt but at the very hour of their death all these continued prayers made incessantly, and sent up to heaven by so many millions of hearts, are of very great efficacy, by his merit whom Israel crowned as a King, and crucified as an offender.  
A sudden death is terrible and fearful, but it is not to those which attend it always constantly, and have been often in those places where she doth never terrify any but cowards. This suddenness doth shake and amaze those souls, which do never think of God but at need. A Prince who did watch, sleep, walk, & eat often with these cogitations, made Christianlike discourses, and said so often, that it was not sufficient to know the graces of God, but they must acknowledge them, might well be taken, but he could not be surprised by death. The treacherous knife opens his side to make a passage for that royal soul, but it could not wound his heart, to the which at his morning rising he had given the name of God in guard.  
Wherhfore let us rather lament for ourselves then for him, and let us say of him as Rome did of Tytus, He is go for his own good, and for our afflictions; death which hath raised him to immortal felicities, doth plunge us into a gulf of miseries. We lament justly for ourselves, who see our hopes dead and our miseries living, death hath struck but one, and hath slain many. The felicity which he enjoys doth not ease the affliction which doth torment us, the contents which he finds in heaven, takes not from us the feeling of those griefs which his absence hath left us upon the earth. If death after this blow should have broken his bow, despairing ever to make the like shot, that would not cure the wound which his arrow hath made.  
It avails not to tell us that we lament him not as dead but as absent, to represent unto us that we have not lost him, but that we expect him, we found occasions daily which make us remember our loss, and the assurance of his return cannot moderate the grief of his departure. If there be any thing in this world able to mollify our grief, it is, that all nations and all people have sorrowed for that which we lament. The afflicted receive some ease when as every man bears a share of their affliction. Christendom hath sorrowed for this Prince like unto a mother who being a widow and old hath lost her own son: Her public tears do witness what she hath lost and what she doth seek. This general mourning in all realms shows the reason of her grief and the greatness of her loss.  
This common sorrow comprehends all Epitaphs that can be erected to his memory. Tears are better understood then words, it is more easy to weep for this Prince, then to speak of his Royal virtues.  
If they will have discourses to praise the wonders of his life, the whole world is the Theatre, fame the Trumpet, and Immortality the triumph. If to animate men's courages to imitate them, they are in inimitable, no man but Hercules could measure that Olympian course, none but he could bend that bow, none but he could wear the spoils of Lynx, no man but Theseus could carry that Club.  
Discourses are to no end, neither to augment the grief of the loss, nor to advance the greatness of the glory of this Prince, for the one is infinite and the other is seen in his Apogea. But tears show that he which was lamented of every man was necessary for all. Glory hath presents and crowns of all sorts, upon all occasions, and to honour all persons, she giveth in like manner to ships which return happily from long voyages, she hath for the living, for the dead and for their tombs. Athens ordained leaves, Room gave them gold, and by the law of the twelve tables she did religiously recommend their remembrance. Hannibal gave a Crown to the body of Marsellus, Cleomenes to Lydia's, Pericles to Paralas, Augustus crowned Alexander's monuments, the urn of Dometrius ashes was crowned, & when as the Emperor Adrian demanded the reason from the Philosopher Epictetus he understood that those crowns did belong to the dead as victors over life, which is but a perpetual warfare.  
Never Tomb deserved better to be crowned then that of this great Prince, who hath crowned all the actions of his life with immortal crowns of glory & reputation. But if they should give him as many as they did number in Ptolemy's pomp & at Sulla's funeral, or as many as Nero dedicated to jupiter Capitolinus, and that they were five or six cubits high, like unto those which Greece presented unto Berenice upon golden Chariots, they should never equal the esteem of so many tears which have been poured forth upon his death.  
To the glorious Titles of most great, most happy, most victorious, the sword and buckler of Christendom, the lightning of battles, the Eagle of arms, the Phoenix of Captains, the Lodestar of Kings, Truth adds for the most glorious that of, Lamented of all men, for he must have great and eminent qualities whom all men shall lament, a general admiration doth pre-suppose more than common virtues; and common tears argue a general loss  
The world shall end before they will leave to lament a prince which hath been the ornament thereof. Time which cureth the deepest wound will make ours incurable. Let men's hearts sacrifice to constancy in another season and let them obtain of reason that which they cannot hope for of time, in this the glory of tears is in continuance to satisfy such as did think that there was nothing whereof the mind of man was sooner tired then with heaviness, nor springs sooner drawn dry then that of tears.  
There will always be in the revolution of ages, some Alexander to honour Achilles' tomb, always some Cesar to renew the mourning for Hector, we shall not be able to stay his tears in considering his own disability to do that which this Alexander hath done.  
These tears which flow in so great abundance, have no other spring then the incredible bounty of this Prince; never people sorrowed for them that were haughty and difficult, who have always pride in their forehead and colour in their eyes, servitude is not more intolerable unto them then pride.  
Room being bound to the birth of Romulus, to the piety of Numa, and to the valour of Tullus, had the royalty of itself and the names of Kings in contempt, when as she saw herself imperiously commanded by Tarquin, in whose excess she did only consider his pride, and comprehended all under the name of proud which she gave him.  
People fly from those Princes which never leave to be solitary, but to make all solitary, which go not forth of their Palaces, but like Lions out of their cages, to fear some and to hurt others.  
We should never grieve for a severe, cruel and inhuman Prince, our tears should be feigned and forced; but for so good and mild a Prince, so loving to his people, so much beloved of all, and so respected of strangers, the sorrow can neither be expressed nor limited.  
Prodigy of our days! this great bounty which did merit to see the sun of three ages, which had been respected among the Scythians, and had forced them to love it, is lost among the French. Shall it be said, that France, always barren in monsters, shall be come both the Mother and Nurse? shall she be defamed amongst all the nations of the world, to have slain two Kings one after another? The Angels rejoice infinitely, when as they understand that men have done any thing that is good, but how much are they grieved which have a particular care of this Crown, which have fought by our Kings to save it; who desire to have their ruins repaired, and who knows that the walls of the heavenly jerusalem must not be built but with this sand and lime, when as they see that it serves for the Babylon of hell, and that the first and goodliest realm of religion doth produce these monsters.  
If this crown were elective, they should not find any one that would accept thereof to run this fortune. After the death of Cleolulphus, the realm of Northumberland was divided into many factions, seven Kings in a short time were slain or expelled by sedition.  
They that would not endure Kings, subjecteth themselves to the discretion of tyrants: good Princes did abhor to command a nation which gloried more in kill then obeying, it remained thirty years as it were in prey to the first invader, the Danes entered it, and were expelled by the Saxons, who in the end added this Crown unto theirs.  
Alas! France is well purged from this reproach, and her tears have washed away this infamy. She hath powered out a thousand execrations against this detestable parricide, she hath cursed the day of his birth, and doth not suffer any other remembrance to remain, but of the just punishment which he hath suffered.  
By the abundance of the tears of France, we may judge of the excess of her sorrow and loss, we never grieve for that which we care not to lose, neither do we hold that lost, which we hope to recover, but she hath lost so good a Prince as we must never think so see any thing equal to his bounty, and we must say unto nature upon her death, as was said unto Nero upon the ruin of his Pavilion; that the loss thereof would show his disabylytie and weakness, being unable in a long time to produce the like. With the same passion that men grieve for the privation of things of great price, they sorrow for those which have been well beloved.  
He that shall know that this Prince lived in his Realm like the head of a Family in his house, and that he was beloved of his Subjects, as a Father of his Children, will not be amazed at the tears of the French, never eyes powered forth juster tears, neither were hearts afflicted with juster sorrow.  
If we be bereaved of the sweet light of our eyes, why should we not complain? If they have clipped the wings of our hopes and prosperities, why should we not cry out? if they have drawn forth ourbowels why should we not feel it?  
Can we dissemble such sensible griefs? can any man touch such painful wounds and not be moved? what proportion of Equity and justice is there in that law, which commands to love and forbids to lament the loss of that which we love?  
If the Egyptians wept threescore and twelve days, for the death of their King; if that of a good servant was so grievous unto Alexander as the whole army carried the marks of his sorrow; if for the death of Masistius the towers of the town were beaten down, Carthage caused her walls to be hanged with black, if Babylon ordained public cessations for the death of her Kings, and if in these sorrows the Pagans' were ashamed to eat for that they would not seem to be touched with affections and the care of life, what shall France do to witness that which she suffers in the death of her King and Father?  
If she did not weep for this Prince, I know not for whom she should not spare her tears, if she should forget him, I know not of whom she should have any remembrance. As among the Romans he was held for profane which had not in his house the portrait of Anthonine; so shall he unworthily carry the name of a Frenchman, which shall not preserve in his heart the Image of this great King, a true Anthonine in clemency, a Traian in bounty, an Augustus in wisdom, and a Caesar in valour. Army's will always lament their general, the Sciences their restorer, France her King, Kings their Captain, people their Father, the Church her eldest Son, Christendom her protector, and Europe her ornament.  
The conquest and restoring of France, & the settling of peace and quietness in Christendom, have given him a greater reputation throughout the world, than Caesar ever purchased in 52. battles, Marcellus in 40. and Scipio in the taking of 152. towns, and therefore the more that we consider what he hath been, the more we grieve for that he is no more, the more our eyes were pleased with this sweet light, the more troublesome the Eclipse thereof is.  
But this sun is not quite go, it hath but past, we see this Phoenix rise out of his ashes. In the Father's West, we adore the sons East. It is the same Eagle which hath renewed his plumes: we see the same majesty in his forehead, the same mildness in his eyes, the same quickness in his actions, the same designs in his inclinations, the same hopes in his words, and in a manner the same promptness in his replies.  
That great and incomparable Princess his Mother revives in her regency the reign of this good King, who hath left unto her wisdom and felicity, and the same instruments which he used in the government of this Monarchy; The affection which he bore unto his people remains in the King his son. As God could not more advance the fortune of this Princess, then in making her wife to so great a King, so could he not place her virtue upon a greater Theatre then in committing to her trust the instruction of the King and the government of the Realm. Let the Father live in heaven, and the Mother and Son long and happily on earth, while that they shall continued happy, France cannot be unhappy.  
FINIS.   

THE TROPHIES of the Life And TRAGEDY of the Death of That Virtuous and Victorious Prince HENRY the GREAT Late of France and Navarre.  
TRANSLATED and Dedicated To the L: Vis-Count Cranborn.  
By jos. Syl.   

To the Right Honourable the Lord Viscount Cranborn.  
BEsides old Bonds which my best Vows engage,  
To your dear Parent; and besides the Due  
Which to yourself might justly thence accrue;  
The apparent Virtues of Your April-age,  
Challenge of right this Poems Patronage:  
The rather, sith we first received from you,  
The speedy Notice (not less quick than true)  
Of HENRY'S Death, through Hell's despiteful Rage.  
You saw this Sun, at his High-Noone-shine Set,  
In sudden Cloud of his own Royal Blood.  
OH Horrid Hap! Who ever can forget  
Such Fate, such Hate, of one so Great, so Good:  
OH just Revenge, root out th' Ignatian Pack,  
The Moule that moved in Faux and Ravaillac.  
josu. Syl.   

THE TROPHIES OF THE Virtues and Fortune of HENRY the Great.  

SInce first Apollo lent the world his light,  
And Earth empregned with his heatful might,  
Europe hath seen no Potentate, no Prince,  
To Parallel great HENRY'S excellence.  
No Term, no Time, his fresh renown shall shed,  
Never was King more dear, never more dread.   

Phoenix of Kings, wonder of Christendom,  
Passing all past, and without Peer to come;  
His Courage only match His Clemency;  
And should his Tomb to These Two equal be,  
Both Spain and France, could not contain the same,  
Which have so often seen his feats of Fame.   

His Life's a lamp to Princes, and a line,  
A Trophy reared by miracle divine:  
A Theatre to all the Virtues built,  
A goodly Garden with such plenty filled,  
Of choicest fruits and flowers that choosing, there  
Abundance troubles more than Want elsewhere,   

The year that EDWARD in Great Britain died,  
That France (beyond the mountains) Spain defied.  
That Therwin walls were thundered to the ground,  
That a fair flower our Royal Hymen Crowned;  
I'th' winter Solstice (when the year is worn)  
Within Pau Castle This young MARS was borne.   

Born for the World's Good, as his Entrance  
Presaged him then the HERCULES of France;  
To readvance her Lilies long decayed;  
For as (by chance) barehead, abroad he played,  
At four years old, a Snake he finds and kills,  
At forty, foils the Hydra of our Ills.   

Nor was He bred in soft delicious wise,  
(Which forms young Spirits into the form of Vice,)  
His Grandsire used him to all Wether's Ire,  
His Saulce was Labour, Excercise his Fire,  
His noble Heart did never aught inflame,  
Save heavens desire, and th'Honour of the same,   

Scarce fourteen times had he beheld the birth,  
Of th'happy Planet (which praesaged his Worth,)  
Predominant in his Natitiall;  
When he become an Army's General,  
Whose hottest flame, without Him was but fume;  
Nor, but by Him, durst any good presume.   

He purchased Peace, the which eft 'zounds was stained  
With His Friends blood, and his young soul constrained  
To feign some Change of His Religion:  
At Vinsein: Castle He was sea'zd upon,  
And to the Court confined; where, discontent,  
His Spirit droops, out of His Element.   

Escaped thence: with restless toil, He tends  
To save the side of his Afflicted Friends;  
By peace again he bringeth all in ure:  
And Mcuusieures death doth well his Hopes assure  
Of thereafter Crown, who but between him stood;  
So, now was He the first Prince of the Blood.   

Than from a far he doth new Storms descry,  
To threat his fortune, and his force to try:  
He meets the danger with undaunted front,  
And in four years bears ten brave Armies brunt,  
All with the might of a great Monarch graced,  
Whereof, at Coutras he defeats the last.   

At last the King to extreme Straitss reduced,  
In doubt of all, and daring none to trust,  
Implores This Prince, who rescues him from Tours,  
With just Revenge; and had yer many hours,  
Re-humbled Paris to her Prince's yoke,  
But for Saint Clement's Paricidiall stroke.   

After which stroke (which all true Frenchmen hate)  
France sadly falls in a most wretched state:  
Who hath lest Reason, hath most Insolence;  
Who hath most Power, hath lest Obedience:  
Nor Awe, nor Law; disorder everywhere:  
Good without hope, and wicked without fear.   

Rebellion spaunes as fast as (in the Spring,)  
Fruit-fretting virmine; it doth Discord bring  
In families, dearth in Towns, death in field,  
O! happy you who never deigned to yield  
Unto that Hag, but Loyal to the Crown,  
Have left you Heirs, Heirs of a true renown.   

Who coumpts the cares that on a Crown do wait,  
As well may number Autumns fruitful freight,  
And Flora's too. Yet this great spirit of man,  
Mid th'ebbs and floods of This vast Ocean,  
Seems a tall Ship, which maugre Winds and Waves,  
In wished Haven her and her Burden saves.   

he's never idle, nor his Excercise  
Other than stands with princely offices:  
MARS, and DIANA, and CUPID wait on Him:  
Maugre his Loss he always gains by Time.  
Unto Affairs his ears are open ay,  
Nor waits he lazying on his bed for day,   

Shafts, Tigers, Torrents; not, nor lightning flies  
Moore swift about then This bold Eagle plies  
(Amid all perils) to preserve his State,  
With Heed and Speed, from rebels Pride and Hate.  
In Battles first, last in Retreats: in brief,  
In Action, Soldier, in Direction, Chief.   

deep saw his Fortunes on a desperate die:  
The League presumed he needs must yield or fly:  
But, as a Brook the more we stop his Course,  
Breaks down his Bay, and runs with swifter Force,  
He foils his Foes at Arques, and shows them plain  
That heavens just hand doth His dear Right sustain.   

'tis buzzed in Paris, and believed in part,  
That he is taken; or constrained to start  
From deep to Dover, to seek England's Aid;  
And, while Him coming Prisoner-wise, they said,  
To the Bastile; He came and overcame  
Their Suburbs soon, to their Suborners shame.   

Conquest attends him, whether he encamps,  
Or marches on: again he takes Estampes:  
Lizieux, Eureux, Man's, Meulan, Vandosme, Perch,  
And Honfleur, foremost in His Trophy march;  
As earnest-pences of His recovered State,  
And Crown of France, which well admits no Mate.   

Tiber and Iber then together flow,  
(Too strong in wrong) his Right to overthrow.  
There prowdeth Power, Heer Prowess brighter shines,  
And daily shows us by a thousand Signs,  
How great Advantage a true Birthright brings  
(Against Usurpers) unto lawful Kings.   

In JURY Fields, he seems a Blazing Star;  
Seen in the Front of all his Host, a far▪  
Majestic Fury in his Martial Face,  
The bravest Troops, doth in instant Chase:  
And boldest Rebels, which the rest had lead;  
Came charging one way, and by forty Fled.   

Melun surrenders, to his Warlike Lot,  
Chartres is chastizd with his thundering Shot,  
Lowiers lies humbled at his Conquering Foot,  
Noyon lamenteth her Three Succours rout,  
Espernay yields her wholly to his hest,  
Dreux twice besieged, opens as the rest.   

The League that late so violently burned,  
To a Cold Fever now her Frenzy turned;  
And trusting still in Strange Physicians aid,  
Neglects her Care till all her strength decayed:  
In dread of all, In doubt her own will quail:  
As a weak Ship afraid of every Sail.   

That (late) ACHILLES of the Spanish-Dutch,  
Farnezean Parma that achieved so much  
In Anwerp's Siege, by matchless Stratagem;  
And weaned the World had had no Peer to Him:  
Had here the heart, twice, to refuse to Fight;  
And twice departed and bod none Good Night.   

Fortune, for Him, no longer used her Wheel,  
But, kind and constant, follows at his heel:  
he's happy every where, and over all  
Spring Palms and Laurels: only near Aumale  
A murderous Bullet put him to some pain,  
Yet hindered not His Rescue of his Train.   

Who weens to vanquish Him, makes Him invict;  
Mild to the Meek, to Proudlings stern and strict:  
He loves the Laurels without blood be-sprent,  
A Cruel Conquest He doth ever lament.  
His Thunder batters but Rebellious Walls,  
And who lest fear him, on them first he falls.   

France, Self to slay, and her own Throat to Cut,  
Arms her own hands; and (in strange rage) doth put  
The Knife to whet, in Spain's ambitious paws;  
Spain that would Spoil her Crowns primordial Laws  
And would a Sceptre with a Distaff blinn:  
But all in vain: The Lilies cannot Spinn.   

Re-romanized, so (say They) Heaven conjures;  
His Errors at Saint Denis he abjures:  
This Change, in Court Yet changed not one nor other;  
For, though his Subjects have not all one Mother,  
He holds them all his Sons, They him their Sire;  
And Christians all, all to one Heaven aspire.   

Within the Temple of The Mother-Mayd,  
That bore her Son, her Sire, her God, her Aid,  
With Heau'n-sent Oil he is anointed King,  
Donns th' Order-Coller; and by every thing,  
To prove in Him, Saint Lewis Faith and Zeal,  
The Sick he touches, and his Touch doth heal.   

By law of Arms, A City ta'en by Force,  
Should feel the Victor's rage, with small remorse;  
Paris so taken, is not treated so:  
Though well his justice might have razed low  
Those rebel Walls which bred & fed These Wars;  
To save the guiltless, he the guilty spares.   

There, There's the Hope and Safety of His Side;  
If There he fail, then farewell all beside:  
The Spaniard therefore Thither speedy sends,  
A great strong Convoy to confirm His Friends.  
Which soon defeated: There began the End  
Of Civil Wars, and all to Union tend.   

Th'honour of saving and restoring France,  
Is not alone due to His Valiance;  
His Clemency hath part; which lets him in  
To stronger Holds, than all his Arms could win:  
That, satisfied with Tears; makes from all parts,  
Repentant Rebels yield him up their Hearts.   

Lions, the Porter of one Part of France,  
Roven that sees none like strong in ordinance,  
Orleans, which England did undaunted prove,  
Marseillis, jealous of old Neptune's love,  
Aix, Bourges, Sens, Meaux, Poitiers, Troy, Thoulouse,  
And Reinss; of These, each to his Bounty bows.   

This gracious Prince excused the simpler sort,  
Whom (Malice-les,) blind Passions did transport,  
Against the Laws, with fury of the Time,  
Who selfe-affraid to fail in fouler Crime,  
Seduced by others sly seditious Lore,  
Followed (like Sheep) their Fellows strayed before.   

This heavenly-humane Clemency of His,  
Yet cannot shield Him from some Treacheries;  
One wounds him in the Mouth and breaks withal  
One of his Teeth, (ò Act unnatural!)  
And had not God in part put-by the blow,  
Even then in Paris had he perished so.   

But, having quenched the Civil Fires in France,  
'Gainst his ill Neighbours now his Arms advance;  
In Piedmont-Fields his Lillye-flowers he plants,  
Pills Bourgognie, and all Artois He daunts,  
And makes the great Castilian M'ARS to fly,  
With Fear within; without, with Infamy.   

Than those great Warriors that had disobeyed  
(Whom not their Courage but their Cause betrayed)  
Which came with shame and sorrow (as was meet)  
To cast their swords at his victorious Feet,  
Fearing his Rigour: He receives them (rather)  
With Kinglike grace, and kindness like a Father.   

Heaven daily works, for him, some special Miracle,  
His Faith's an Altar and his Word an Oracle:  
His greatest foes have never found him fail,  
And should Sincerity, in all men quail,  
Exiled from the World (as Moors from Spain)  
In This King's soul she had been found again.   

Spain by a train of many wiles well laid,  
Surpriseth Amiens, France is all afraid:  
The Spaniard, hence prouder than ever, swells,  
Undaunted HENRY Thence him soon repels,  
Regains his City, and constrains His foes,  
To beg their Peace, or to abide his blows.   

The Storms that long disturbed the state are vailed,  
Th'ill Vapours now are from all hearts exhaled,  
And France is now all French even all about:  
Only the Breton stiffly yet stood out.  
But those white Ermines at the last must need,  
Of th'only Scent of the fair Lilies feed.   

Old PHILIP longs to see the Waters calm,  
Finds all designs vain to supplant This Palm;  
Sigh the more shaken, it more fast doth grow:  
He seeketh Peace, the Pope solicits so,  
Veruins doth treat it, Brussels swears it done,  
And PHILIP pleased departs the World anon.   

France yet retains one sensible Offence,  
For which she vows Revenge or Recompense:  
Among the Alpss her thundering Canons roar,  
Proud-browd Montmeilan flaunts and vaunts the more  
To stop her fury, but in fine is feign,  
To rue her rashness and repent in vain.   

God hastens his own Work: This Monarch marries  
In lions Church, the choice, the Chief of Maries;  
The heavens delight, our Lilies ornament:  
Love, in one heart two lovely Souls hath blended,  
Whence Peace is more confirmed, and Discord, dashed  
For; by This knot many great Plots are quashed.   

At Fountainblean (a Paradise for scite)  
She brought him forth his Dolphin, his delight,  
Whose tender youth gives happy hopes of Worth;  
One Daughter also did she there bring forth,  
And two Sons more (Supporters of the crown,)  
Two daughters more, Paris for birth doth own.   

His Clemency hath conquered rebels rage,  
Made of disloyal loyal Vassalage;  
Yea forced Wills by Pardons and by Grace,  
The proof whereof is writ in every place:  
Through all the Towns of France both great & small  
Where, for Revenge, Reward was deigned to all.   

Once, only once, his Mercy admirable,  
Was deaf to Byron and inexorable;  
Sigh when he might, his haut despite would none,  
I wonder not to see that Myrmadon,  
In the Bastile, a shameful death to bear:  
But This I wonder, that he would come there.   

Of factious spirits, of close deep hearts, and double,  
(Whose Life is strife, whose Rest is best in trouble)  
He knows the drifts, and known dissolves the same  
As fast as fire melts Lead within the flame.  
His voice alone, as Dust cast up aloft,  
Breaks Hornets buzzing and their swarming, often.   

Discord disturbing holy Churches rest,  
Twixt Rome and Venice did debates suggest:  
Ambition set in foot, free-swelld with hope,  
To bridle both the Senate and the Pope;  
Both priest to fight: His Prudence reconciled,  
Their Difference, and did their minds remyled.   

He relished now the harmless Sweets of Peace,  
Willing his People should partake no less;  
But yet somewhere he feels a Thorn to prick:  
To pluck it out he arms and marches quick  
Even to the Frontier: There attains his will,  
Wisdom (so) fitly takes her Season still.   

You Nations, that for forty years have seen,  
BELLONA'S Tempests and fellt MARS his Teen;  
That for your Liberties have pawned your lives:  
If freely now you joy your Wealth, your Wives:  
If now your Trades into the East you bring,  
(Under heavens Kingdom) only thank This King.   

Thus heaped with Honours, This brave King is loathe,  
That his brave Knights, effeminizd by Sloth,  
Mid Games and Dames, during so long a Peace,  
Should still lie still in cities pomp and ease:  
Therefore he rears an Army strongly dight,  
In Gulich's Claim, his wronged friends to right.   

A noble Prince, whose prows and Prudence, late  
Buda admired, and Rome hath wondredat  
(The Honour of His Time) was General;  
So stored with Gould, with guns, with Arms, with all,  
That neighbour Princes were all in alarm.  
Yet Them This Thunder brought more fear than Harm.   

Fearless it Marches, and respectless threats,  
Whatever Log that its free Passage lets;  
Gesture and voice already skirmishing:  
And under Conduct of so brave a King,  
Great-brittains', Germans, Swissers, Belgians,  
Serve all the Greatness of the Crown of France.   

Elsewhere the while, The Duke that rules the Alps,  
Seemed t'have his heart no more beyond the Calpes,  
Brave noble heart, Saxonitally-Franch.  
Fuentez, afraid, with shoulder-shrincking wrench,  
Doubts least that Milan stoop to France again;  
And CHARLES provoked prove the Scourge of Spain.   

heavens now, to Crown his Trophies, had set down,  
That at Saint Denis he his Queen should Crown  
With royal Diadem; and in one Day  
The State, the Majesty of France display.  
Nothing but Great, but great Magnificence;  
But MARIUS Grace excelled all Excellence.   

Hence, hence false Pleasures, Momentary joys,  
Mock us no more with your illuding Toys:  
A strange Misshap hatched in Hell below,  
Hath plunged us all in deepest Gulf of Woe,  
Taught us, that all Worlds-hopes as Dreams do fly,  
And made us all, Cry All is Vanity.   

At th' Euenings-fower, forth from the Lowre road  
This mighty Prince (without his Guard) abroad  
To see his Arsenal: To his Caroche,  
In a straight lane a Hellhound durst approach,  
And with a Knife, twice stabbing, killed him quite,  
Turning that fairest Day to foulest Night.   

Twice did the Monster stab, for else, the first,  
Had not been mortal; but the Knife accursed  
Thrilling his Lungs, cut at the second stroke  
The arterial vein, whose blood-flood soon did choke  
The peerless Prince; His dying Eyes and Heart  
Imploring Heaven, soon did his Soul departed.   

Fallen Tiger, tell us, tell us Why, or Whence,  
Thou durst (accursed) assault so Great a Prince:  
Wherein had He to Thee or Thy don wrong?  
When once (yet This) Thou didst too-neer him throng,  
His Guard rebuked thee; but He Them, for That:  
Caused That Thy Malice, and His Murderous fate?   

Fates ruthless Law alots his royal breast,  
To dye the death that CAESAR thought the best;  
Death without sense of death, a death so quick  
It seldom leaves King's leisure to be sick:  
Nor gives Him leave of his sixt Decades date  
To fill the Roll; but seven Six Months did bate.   

He, He that was the Hope, the Prop of His,  
He that restored France to what it is,  
He that confined the Power of Princes still,  
He that Commanded Victory, at will,  
That was the World's delight, King's glory sheen,  
He, He receives Death's treacherous stroke, unseen.   

Th'unhappy street where This fell Hap fellout,  
Where woeful Paris saw her Light put out,  
Where cursed Iron pierced her Prince's heart,  
It shall no more be cleped The Iron-mart:  
It shall be called The cursed Corner, still;  
The Hag-street, or The Hell-street: which you will.   

Lord! where wert Thou! When That disloyal wretch,  
With cruel hand did Thy Anointed reach;  
Quenching the Rays of Royal Majesty?  
No heart is hid from thine All-piercing Eye,  
It sees the Centre, knows the Thoughts, Yet thought;  
Can it see This, and suffer it be wrought?   

Hell often before, out of his black Abyss,  
Had spewed up Monsters to have acted This:  
But still thy hand from former wounds did ward.  
And had he not still trusted to Thy Guard,  
His Own had waited Round about his Coach,  
And This fell Tiger never should approach.   

These Words, this rasher Words escaped my tongue;  
When I beheld That Monarch laid along  
Dead on his bed, so dead, so butchered;  
I blamed Heavens, and Whispering soft, I said,  
Because They stopped not This strange Hap before,  
Their slumbering eyes now watch the World no more.   

But, are mine eyes mine own? Is This That Prince,  
Which might have made all Europe His long-since?  
Had he not thought th'Empire of France enough.  
That Lyon-heart, that Courage Cannon-proof,  
Which did so often Impossibles achieve?  
I see 'tis He: yet scarce my sight believe.   

Is This That Mighty King, God's lively Image,  
To whom the greatest in the World did Homage?  
In Peace a Dove, in War an Eagle quick,  
NESTOR in Court, In Camp ACHILLES-like,  
That with a hundred horse a thousand foiled:  
That from most Dangers never yet recoiled.   

Gait Rome was strangely mazed and all a mort,  
When She beheld her CAESAR'S bloody shirt:  
And say, Great City, how wert Thou dismayed,  
When first thou sawst Thy HENRY sadly laid  
Along his Coach, and Covered with a Cloak?  
" I thought the Prop of all my Fortunes broke.   

Those that have seen in Towns surprised (while-yer,)  
When to the Churches all have fled for fear;  
May well imagine Paris deep Affright.  
Nothing but shivering: Nobles armed bright,  
Clergy at Prayers, People weep and howl:  
And the King's wound hath wounded every Soul.   

Paris in Honour of her peerless Queen,  
Had plotted Shows, (more pompous never seen)  
As, rich to th'outward, rare to th'inward sense;  
But all those Arches (Marks of Magnificence.)  
Those Trophies, Terms, Statues, Colossuses, All,  
Make but more Mourners at the Funeral.   

I yield My Pencil: help APELLES, here,  
To Limb (to life) Her dying-living Cheer:  
Belief is hardly in Man's heart impressed,  
Her Grief more hard to be by Art expressed,  
Therefore o Queen! Great Stay, Great Star of France,  
This vail I draw before Thy Countenance.   

Heaven steeled Thy Heart with Fortitude That Day,  
Thy Courage kept the Kingdom from Decay;  
And to the Throne Thy Son our Sovereign heft:  
Though angry Fates of Father him bereft,  
Yet Merciful, they left him such a Mother,  
That France could hardly have been ruled by other.   

The sudden Clap of This dread Thunder sounds,  
From Alexander's to Alcides' Bounds:  
The Kings and Princes stand amazed all,  
With horror of an Act so Tragical.  
Some Rest forsake, others Repast forbear,  
And Each like Fortune to himself doth fear.   

So soudainly to see Day turned to night,  
Triumphant Palms into Funerial Plight,  
The Royall-Crowne to a deep Mourning Vale,  
A living King to a dead Corpse and Pale,  
Our Flowers to Thorns: seem Tricks of Sorcery,  
Wherein, Conceit consents not with our Eye.   

Yes, He is dead: and his eyelids no more  
To view this Light shall open (as before;)  
Those lovely Eyes the Load-stars of the Court,  
Whose gracious glances on the Worthy sort,  
Gave Virtue vigour, and Whose awful frown,  
Dis-dared Vice; are now Eclipsed and down.   

Where are those ready Battaill-ranging Hands?  
Those lightning Eyes whose wrath no wall with-stands?  
That Voice so dreadful to the stoutest hearts?  
That heart which wrought so many wondrous parts?  
That piercing Wit dispersing Clouds of Doubt?  
Where is that mighty King, so Famed about?   

Inexorable Death! inhuman, cruel,  
Thou shalt no more reave us so rare a jewel;  
Nature hath broke the Mould she made Him in.  
In all thy Triumph (trailing every Kin)  
Shall never march His Match, nor worthier Prince,  
T'have been exempted from thine Insolence.   

Ah! poor, weak Virtue, Zealous Love of Thee,  
Prolongs not Life, protracts not Death (I see)  
This Prince that gave Thee even his heart for Temple,  
This Prince whose Reign shall serve for rare Example  
To future Kings, in future Things dismayed,  
Should have come sooner, or have later stayed.   

His Piety, was neither Fond, nor Feigned;  
His Prowess, neither Fear, nor Rashness stained;  
His Prudence cleared his councils, steered his State;  
His Temperance his Wrath did temperate;  
His justice with his Clemency did Yoke:  
Yet could not All free Him from Fatal stroke.   

Invincible in all: only, the Darts  
Which have not spared the Gods immortal hearts,  
Have often battered His: but, by your leaves,  
OH fairest Beauties! (Beauty itself deceives)  
You never were the Soverains of his breast:  
He You (perhaps) You never Him possessed.   

In Arms-Art, what He knew not, none can know't,  
Neither attempt what He attempted not,  
Reason was ay the Aim of His designs,  
His brave Exploits (worthy immortal lines)  
Shall furnish Theme to Thousand learned Clarks,  
Whose Works shall Honour Him, He more their Warks.   

His Royal Gests are everywhere extolled,  
graven, Carved, Cast, in Marble, Wood, and Gold;  
His Life alone's an History admired,  
Wherein all pens, all Pencills shallbe tired,  
In portraying all His valiant Feats to-forn,  
Whose Tables ever shall all Courts adorn.   

His Bounty's Temple had a hard Access,  
Not known to any but to Worthiness:  
That Gate (indeed) did seldom open quick.  
His Liberality, (coy Beauty like)  
Loved to be wooed, priest, and importuned still,  
Yea, forced to give, what glad and feign she will.   

Yet, by th'effects to weigh his Clemency,  
Me thinks His Heart must more than human be,  
Me thinks therein some higher Power did shine,  
It surely seemed celestial and divine,  
And but I saw him dying, pale and wan,  
I could have scarce believed This Prince a Man   

He ever loved rather to save then spill,  
Not cimenting his Throne with Blood, with Ill,  
Nor weened by Fear his Diadem assured  
With Mildness rather grieved minds he cured  
His Memory did never wrongs retain,  
Beloved Kings (He thought) securest reign.   

Praise you This Bounty, you that past the Poles,  
Bear heavens Embassage to Belief-les Souls:  
HENRY restored your Country and your credit,  
He gave you leave over all France to spread it,  
Restored you Bizance, and each pleasant part,  
Left you his Court, bequeathed to you his Hart.   

If France now flourish, pruning round about,  
Olives within, and Laurels all without,  
If now, She give the Law to other States,  
If Peace and Plenty reign within her Gates,  
If now She fear no Civil Storms again,  
These are the fruits of This Great HENRY'S Reign;   

If now Her Schools with learned men abound,  
If Her rare wits be through the World renowned,  
If doubts of Faith be cleared and explored,  
If Learning be to her dew Place restored,  
If now Desert the charge in Church attain,  
These are the Fruits of This Great HENRY'S Reign.   

If now her Buildings pass for beauty far  
The World's old Wonders (which so famous are)  
If Paris Thou be peerless to behold,  
For State, for Store, for People, Goods, and Gold,  
If in Thy City Cities sprout again,  
These are the Fruits of This Great HENRY'S Reign.   

If the French Sceptre be now Selfe-entire,  
Fearless of Foreign or Domestic fire:  
If France have fellows of ACHILLES Fame,  
If now in France be nothing out of frame,  
If now the Indieses her Bastile contain,  
These are the fruits of This Great HENR'IES Reign.   

If now we joy to see our Country free  
From Theives and Rebels (which exiled be)  
If justice now do keep the lewd in awe,  
If Desperate Duels be now Curbed by Law,  
If now the Weak weigh not the strongs' disdain,  
These are the Fruits of This Great HENRYS Reign.   

If Merchants rich, If Magistrates be found,  
If Officers like Emperors abound,  
If pursy Lawyers live Princelike at home,  
If now Inventions to their height be come,  
If now good wits find where them to sustain,  
These are the fruits of This Great HENRY'S Reign.   

Who loved not Him, never beheld his brows,  
Who knew his Fortunes, must admire his prows,  
Who feared him not, His Greatness did offend,  
Who weaned Him to beguile, his Wisdom kend:  
Who durst displease him knew his mercy's store;  
Who durst not speak his mildness did ignore.   

Who waileth not his Death knew not his Life,  
Glory of His and Others Envy rife,  
Incomparable, Admirable Prince  
Excelling all th'old HEROES Excellence.  
For His true Story shall their Fables shame:  
Inimitable Life, Illimitable Fame.   

OH Frenchmen, stop not yet your weeping flood:  
This Prince for you hath lavished often his blood,  
O! be not niggards of your Tears expense,  
(vail here, my Verse, do ANNE a reverence;  
Rare ANNE that shames the rarest wits of Ours  
Hircius divine Stances furnish thee these Flowers)   

The Heavens may give us all Prosperities,  
Sustain our State, remove our miseries;  
But cannot dry up our Tears bitter stream:  
In extreme Evils remedies extreme.  
Restore our King, quick shall our joys recover,  
Else, never look our Sorrows should give over.   

Each-where our Grief finds matter to augment it,  
His Names Remembrance doth each where present it,  
His famous Gests do busy every Sort,  
Some tell his Wars, others his Works report.  
Others his Favours past, glad-sad deplore;  
Than, not to mourn, is not to mind Him more.   

Ah! must we live, and see so sudden dead  
The Life that late our Lives enspirited?  
Strike sail my Soul, let's put-into the Port,  
While HENRY lived it was good to live (in sort)  
But let us after; sith he's reft of breath,  
Desire of Life is now far worse than Death.   

Sorrow, with us doth both lie down and rise,  
Wrinkles our Brows, withers our Cheeks and eyes;  
We shun whatever might our Griefs alloy,  
We wish the Night, we're weary of the day,  
Night brings sad Silence with her horrid Shade,  
And even her Colour seems for Mourning made.   

Extremest Woes yet are with Time o'erpast,  
Rivers of Tears are dryed-up at last:  
But never Ours: Ours, ever fresh shall flow,  
We defy Comforts, we'll admit no more,  
Nor seek them, but as Alchemy profound  
Seeks that which is not, or which is not found.   

Who from the Ocean Motion can recall,  
Heat from Fire, Voided from Air, Order from All,  
From Lines their Points, from IRIS all her dyes,  
Perils from Seas, from Number's Unities,  
Shadows from Bodies, Angles from the Square,  
May separate our Hearts from Grief, our Minds from Care.   

He must be heartless that is smart less found,  
The Soul that is not wounded with This wound,  
Most brutish, hath no human Reason in't:  
There is no breast of Steel, no heart of Flint,  
But must bemoan so great a King, so slain,  
Who would not wail a Galley slave so tain.   

Let us no more name HENRY'S Kings of France,  
Death with two Knives, and with one shivered Lance,  
Hath killed Three HENRY'S: one at jousts (in jest)  
Th'other in's Closet, in's Caroche the best:  
So, Three King RICHARDS; and Five Other cry,  
Some fatal Secret in some Names doth lie.   

What worse Disaster can you have behind  
To threaten France, o Destinies unkind!  
What greater Mischief can your Malice bring,  
So good a Father rest, so great a King?  
What will you more? Sigh we no more can hope  
For any Good that with This Ill may cope.   

This noble Spirit doth to his Spring re-mount,  
This Bounty's Flood retireth to his Fount,  
This Atomie to's Unity unites,  
This Star returns to the first Light of Lights,  
This Ray reverts where first it light did take,  
And mortal wounds, This Prince immortal make.   

Farewell sole Honour of all earthly Kings,  
Farewell rare Prince for All kind Managings,  
Farewell Great HENRY Heavens and Nature's gem,  
Farewell bright Star of Kings, Glories great Beam,  
Farewell sole Mortal that I keep in mind,  
Farewell false Hope, Fortune, and Court unkind.   

Hear, leasi Oblivion should usurp her room,  
FAME writes in Gold, These Lines upon thy Tomb.   

THIS PRINCE, unpeered FOR CLEMENCY AND COURAGE,  
JUSTLY SURNAMD, THE GREAT, THE GOOD, THE WISE,  
MIRROR OF FUTURE, MIRACLE OF FORE-AGE;  
ONE SHORT MISHAP FOREVER HAPPIFIES.   
FINIS.