THE GHOST OF the marquess d' Ancre, with his Spirits attending him. OR The Fiction of a Dialogue between Galligaia, Conchini by name, or marquess d' Ancre his wife, and Misoquin a deluding Spirit, by whom her Husband was mislead. Together with the same Spirits meeting the good Genius to Monsieur the Prince of CONDE: Faithfully translated out of the French Copy printed at ROUEN.  
Printed at LONDON for Nicholas Bourne, and are to be sold at the South-entrance of the Royal-exchange. 1617.   

THE FICTION OF A DIALOGUE, between Galligaia, Wife to Conchini, and Misoquin, the false and deluding Spirit that transported her Husband with vain hopes.  
Together with a meeting of the said Spirit with the Genius of Monsieur the Prince of CONDE.  
SUCH dispositions, as have but once contracted with God's enemy, can very hardly ever be clean freed out of his fowl clouches: For we have an evident example hereof in Conchini, and his Wife, who being both of them so many times admonished by God's wrath poured upon them, yet would they not retire, nor give over their wicked life: no, not when they evidently saw, how both God and all the people were incensed against them; being afflicted by sickness, and the death of one of their children; as also one of their houses rifled and pillaged by the just rage of the people; two of their domestical friends hanged, and a thousand other manifest tokens, intimating to them, how all the Princes bore them a most worthy and deserved hatred. Oh, what inexplicable miseries doth affectation of power and greatness bring unto men! O how our disordinate appetites, to amass, and purchase worldly honours, doth heap and augment our misfortunes! Thou now feelest it, now that a sudden death hath violently carried thee out of the world, (and as may be inferred by all pregnant probabilities) in the height of thy sins and transgressions. Now thou feelest it; thou, who after so many worldly delights, so many flatteries of honours, of contentments, art now more miserable peradventure then the most wretched creature in all France: Thou I say, who in stead of a Royal Palace stately adorned, hast for thy habitation an obscure and hideous dungeon: Thou art he who now findest it; for in stead of a thousand Gentlemen well borne, that were wont to do thee all kind of honour, stand before thee uncovered, adoring thee, and making show, as if they breathed and lived for no other end but to offer thee their humblest services; thou hast now it may be, some rigorous jailor, that contemns thee, and in stead of any consolation, flouts and laughs at thy precipice and downfall: Thou I say, who wert wont to give life and death to all those whom thou wouldst thyself, hast now need to implore and cry out for mercy of all the world: Thy greatness and riches wherein thou didst put such confidence, what avail they? Where is now that same troup of Nobility which were accustomed to follow and attend thee? Questionless thou wert but deceived: for these people followed not thyself, but merely thy present fortunes and high favours. And now thou truly knowest how unhappy all they are, who relying upon Fortune, think that she can make them masters of the whole world, whereas she makes them but slaves and infamous vassals, not only to herself, but to their own disordinate appetites & desires. Thou, I say again, Conchini, now feelest it, thou that wert sprung from a base Sire, and yet wouldst have exalted thyself not only above the French Nobility, but even above all Princes of the French stock and race. Thou ay say, that most insatiable Sejanus, whose furious rage could never be appeased by the massacre of so many good Frenchmen, by the imprisonment, not only of many of the Nobility, but even of the Princes of the blood; whose wrath and revenge could not be fully satisfied with the doleful banishment of so many Princes, and whose avarice was never contented with so many millions of gold and silver: Now thou hast a bitter experience, thou which governedst all France at thine own pleasure; who after thine own miserable death wert not only prevented from being the food and nourishment of worms, but moreover, thou wert the Butt whereat all the arrows of the people's rage and fury were shot. Thou that hadst so many houses, Palaces and Castles, and could not be suffered to repose within the earth in peace, for the space only of four and twenty hours? and whom the Earth herself indeed disgorged, impatient to retain such a letiferous poison within her womb: the Air could not endure thy infections: the Water thy putrefaction: neither would the Fire consume thy body, reserving it for a prey to Sea-monsters: And now thou knowest apparently what difference there is betwixt the beginnings and ends of Fortune, how variable and mutable she is; who being huffed up to such eminent place, didst foolishly give credit to a prediction and prophesy made of thee; and that when thou didst pass along the streets, every one should put off his hat, and cry out, Vive le Roy. But now thou seest, that Fortune inverting quite this prediction, it yet comes to be most true, but thanks be to God, clean contrary to thine own expectation: for in stead of thy beds of state, of Gold, silver, and silk, thou wert laid within a stinking puddle of a foul and unclean water, and for trapped and rich harnished horses, thou wert trailed along the streets by rascally and contemptible people.  
Oh, whosoever thou art, on whom Fortune at this present, peradventure may smile, learn to be wise by other men's harms, and remember God's justice, which never fails to punish the wicked soon or late; Behold here one, that was called the Marshallesse of France, who was possessed of the Queen's greatest favours, and disposed wholly of her will, that now foaming with fury and madness, and being enclosed within a prison, spits for anger, cries and howls out like a she-wolf that had been robbed of her whelps. I saw her by chance the other day in the Bastille, she looks most hideously, and stroke fear into all those that did behold her; and her staring eyes, ghastly countenance, with her fearful visage and distracted speech, plainly show that she is conducted by some other spirit besides her own: her hair all full of skirfe and filth, hanging loose and confused upon her shoulders, tearing her own face and bosom, so as I never was touched with such an affrightment before. Wherefore I went and hid myself in a corner, to see the issue and further event of this business, when incontinently I heard her vomit and belch out these or the like words:  
What I? who lately could the Furies move,  
To practise murder and confusion;  
Shall I endure? no, no, I will not sure:  
Rather both heaven and earth I will confound,  
The Elements, and all this lower round  
I'll make a Chaos, mixing waves and fire,  
The air, the earth, the heavens, and heat and cold,  
What is beneath shall soon mount up aloft,  
I will my Husband's cinders summon up.  
Phoebus' by Verses hath been made descend  
From th' highest Firmament, and Rivers quite reverse,  
To fly the vast and spacious Ocean.  
Nothing I fear: my force I must extend:  
So loud I'll yelp, that all shall understand;  
If I the Gods immortal cannot move,  
Yet will I devils infernal prove.  
Assist me therefore Pluto, hideous Megara,  
With tresses of a thousand Vipers hanging down,  
Come succour me; and all you dreadful Fiends  
In hell's deep dungeon, fearing nor men nor Gods.  
What? shall our enemies us thus deface?  
Permit it not or thou neglectest our case.  
Shall we before our time be thus subdued  
By this same Prince? nay, rather cut his thread,  
O daughter of the night, that so his destiny  
May no ways curb our Fame and Dignity.  
heavens favour, I see plain, this mortal wight:  
The Gods in counsel, all, secure him with might.  
Thou that canst pleasure or annoy each one,  
And cause a son his father's blood to shed,  
By discord also thou canst soon devise  
Firmest accords and houses to dissolve:  
In brief, thou canst hurt men by sundry means,  
Out of thy bosom foul some poisons belch,  
Now break this peace, and sow both war and strife,  
That so by millions they may fall and die.  
Come hither Misoquin, who didst always  
Protect my husband; come, make no delay.  
When she had finished this discourse, I saw a Spirit of strange shape and form to appear, with staring eyes, a huge mouth, or rather indeed a gulf, without a nose, but having a body like a Caterpillar, and wings, but without legs or arms, and I believe it was one of those that are called watery Spirits.  
So she drew near to this Spirit, and then they had this communication together. Gall. Well sir, where's now the performance of all your frivolous promises? that you should have preserved and protected my husband for so long time? that you would confound, spoil, and ruin all his enemies? Misoquin. Why I pray, did I deceive him? Did I not tell both him and you oftentimes, that the Prince of Conde was his fatal opposite, and how he must endeavour to extirpate the Princes of the blood. Gall. 'tis true: but on the other side it was foretold us, that our greatness depended on a war; but if they were once dead, against whom should we have made war? Misoq. Why, against the Flies: a good workman never wants matter nor tools. But to speak truly thy husband was but a cowardly coistrel, for had he been in the Army, he had never been slain at Paris. Alas, he never had no valour in his life, and further he spent his time in pleasures and luxuries: but think you if it had lain in my power, I would not have prevented it? What tribute do you imagine paid he to Pluto every year? I assure you more than a million of souls. Gall. Well I called thee not now to check thee for any misfortune past, but to take order with thee for some thing that is to come; for I am inwardly enraged, and reduced in a manner to utter despair: my jugineere and plotting Spirit, and who hast aided me in many things, canst thou not for my sake, confer some miserable disaster upon the French? Remains there no Art, nor no policy, to compass and achieve our wicked enterprises? Misoquin. Your words are but mere wind: There's other matters in hand, woman, thy husband contrary to all other men, makes his repentance in another world: for he is now turned Monk. Gall. And how so I pray? Misoq. Why, had he not good cause to do so, when all his virile parts were so shamefully cut away. Gall. Why thou wretched imp, wilt thou ever be mocking us? Well, couldst thou but be sensible of the miseries which overwhelm me, thou wouldst not thus laugh, and make thyself merry. Misoquin. You are in the right: I pray do Devils use to weep? But there's other news besides this. Gall. Even from the Cock to the Bull: But what I pray? Misoquin. Why yesterday I met with your neighbour's Genius. Gall. Why, who was that? Misoquin The Angel of the grand Master, and we had almost gone together by the ears about my coming hither. Gall. How came that to pass? Misoquin. I was no sooner come in, but he knew me, by reason I was somewhat of a different form: and thus he said; I conjure thee to tell me whither thou goest. Then I went still onward, and he began again to say; In the name of God tell me who thou art, and whither thou goest: upon this injunction I was enforced to answer. I am, than replied I, Misoquin, sometimes his Daemon or evil Angel, that was called Martial d' Ancre: and you sir, Who may you be? When in great choler, he returned me this answer; It concerns not you to be herein very inquisitive: But come you hither to seduce or corrupt any body? No, said I, for she I come to, is corrupt enough already. Accursed wretch as thou art; for, said he, thou always delightest in doing evil: Come hither, said he, thou cursed Caitiff; Art not thou he, that didst advise this silly woman to practise such mischief against France? Art not thou the cause, this Prince hath endured so much disgrace? But all thy time and labour is herein but lost: for the good, and Almighty God hath made him take all his misfortunes patiently: and herein he hath highly deserved. And the same God will deliver him from the imprisonment he suffers, confounding all the enemies of truth; and unhappiness shall befall them that persecute him: for God himself is provoked, and stirred up against them. Tush, replied I, these be goodly reasons you allege; but at conclusion I prevail in my cause, for you could not preserve your Prince so well as I did my marquess: for thine endured more misery since he came in here, then mine did in all his life: And so on the other side, thou knowest not how he shall die, but I know well enough how mine did: and howsoever, he died like a brave man, with his sword in his hand, swearing like a gallant Captain, and blaspheming God thy Master. And be assured that they who killed him, augmented greatly herein his renown: for had he not been surprised there, he might peradventure have died in the chimney corner. Then growing into great choler, See this miscreant villain, said he, how after he hath betrayed them, how he derides and laughs at men. This is he (meaning it by me) said he, that was the cause of all his disaster, by tickling him daily in the head with ambitions and extravagant desires of Rule and Government: God in him hath expressly manifested, how he ever abandons those that leave and forsake him, for he died miserably, giving them cause who justly hated him, to mock and laugh both at him and his designs. But as for you sir, I command you to retire: Believe me, if we than had had any bodies, I think we should have devoured one another; but so I left him, and came strait to you: and therefore suppose you whether he was not deeply moved and angry or no. Gall. I find that sound, poor wretch as I am. Misoquin. What, do you repent yourself? You shall see your Husband presently, and if possible, you shall enjoy your liberty. Gall. How know you that? Misoquin. I was very lately with two special Gentlemen of Paris that spoke of you. Gall. And what said they? Misoquin. Faith no great matter: for they wished you at the Devil, with whom you are already: they said you should be made so great, as you should be all cut, shaven, and trimmeth, without costing you one penny. Gall. But what shall I do to those wicked fellows that clapped me up here? Misoquin. Wotst thou what, why for their greater despite, either let them alone, or go hang thyself, and so thou mayst prevent them of the honour of putting thee to death: for believe it, if they of Paris ever lay hold on thee, they'll handle ye in your true kind. And a certain woman, hath already sold your nose to one of her neighbours, to roost her Chickens upon: others have bought your eyes, that so they may have four to see you withal, when you are led to hanging: another your ears, the better to hear your trial and sentence: others say, your skin will serve them fitly to make gloves of, by reason they will cost nothing the perfuming, it being of itself so ordurous, and stinking, that no perfume can be cast upon it. Gall. Imagine when thou hast said what thou wilt, we will talk somewhat of our business. Misoquin. And why of them? Thou hast nothing nearer to thee then thy Husband: matters are so plainly reported and divulged of him, as they are openly cried up and down through the streets of Paris; but they are but fools that buy them, because they are but mere fopperies to that which will come out. Gall. And what can they say of him? Misoquin. Marry, all kind of reproachful and ignominious matters, but only that they term him not a Cuckold, by reason that (for thus these wicked fellows allege) his wife is so ugly and odious, as none but the Devil himself would be his Cuckold-maker. They express him making of his last Will and Testament: they say he hath left thee his beauty, because thou wert thereof so ill furnished; his understanding he gave to his brother, because he had not enough to discharge a Cardinal's place: for the parts inferior of his body, he hath now neither feet, nor hands; his feet commended over to his brother Governor of the Bastile, to further his flight, and his hands to those that after him shall have the managing of the King's treasure. And to enrich you, he hath himself forsaken the world, but he was so long a time in passing Acheron, by reason of a tempest, that he is grown all scaly over like a fish. And there below, which is the best least of all, he laughs at them which made him give so much money for his release when he should be in Purgatory; for in passing along he had not so much as a sight of it. Gall. Well, well, I see now a days you can do nothing but cog and flout: I pray let us talk of revenging my husband's death. Misoquin. What tellest thou me of thy husband? Behold, Conchini, by the power which thou hast given me over thyself, I command thee to appear here presently.  
Conchini. Wilt thou never leave tormenting of my soul, which hath been miserably afflicted for so long time? Ah, forlorn and wretched caitiff that I am! Misoquin. What ail'st thou? dost thou repent thee? nothing worse can come to thee. Conchini. Ah most accursed creature, art not thou she who wert the cause of all my misfortunes? Gall. Who I? Conch. I you: for otherwise we might have lived contentedly upon some poor humble calling, exempted from all ambition and avarice. Gall. But come hither a little: why are you in this garb and fashion? Conch. I perform penance. Gall. Why have you no hands? Conch. Pluto took them from me, for prodigally wasting and consuming his riches and wealth. Gall. And why no feet? Conch. Because I used to employ them in base flight when my Regiment was discomfited. Gall. Why me thinks ye are in the habit of a strange Monk. Canch. Oh would I had been so all days of my life, and had perpetually observed chastity. Gall. We never dreamt of thy death. Conch. No, but we shall dream fairly when we are both together once: wherefore understand and use means to preserve thine own life; for me thinks I see how thou art rend and torn a pieces by the cruel and inhuman multitude. And what do our creatures and favourites now? Gall. Some are like to be burnt, others sent back again from whence they came, others have turned their proud coats into penitential robes, like Bell-founders. Conch. Why, are they not yet satisfied with the disgrace and opprobry they laid upon me? Gall. No, they say, we deserved much more. Misoquin. Well, you have leisure enough to rip up all your miseries and calamities together, 'tis time now for me to return, dinner is almost past.  
As soon as this little Devil had thus spoken, a thick vaporous cloud obscured and darkened all the chamber: this was it wherewith the season was so changed, and so amidst this darkness, I escaped away well and safe, but not without some fear.  
After so fair a time, thick showers of rain come down;  
And shall not yet our miseries have end?  
Hath Fortune yet reserved some other frown?  
And yet will God some further scourge us send:  
No: but the husband's blood cries for his wives, and yet  
The root of all our Woads is not cut up,  
On ground while this vile wretch her foot doth set,  
Till she drink deeply of Revenges cup.  
It is further reported that upon Wednesday, the last of April, 1617. Stila Anglia, at four a clock in the afternoon, the general cessation of Arms was proclaimed at Deep in Normandy, and all the Soldiers whatsoever to depart upon pain of death: particularly the 5500. Strangers, that the marquess d' Ancre had caused to be levied for his service in Normandy in the Wallone Countries, and the Land of Lake, alias, Les Liege●yr, et Walloons.  
FINIS.