SOME REFLECTIONS UPON THE Pretended PARALLEL IN THE PLAY CALLED The Duke of Guise. In a Letter to a Friend.  
London, Printed for Francis Smith, sen. 1683.   

SIR,  
ACcording to your Commands, I went several times to see the so long expected, and so much talked of Play, called, the Duke of Guise, in order to give you my Opinion of it: and (though I was very much wearied with the dulness of it, and extremely incensed at the wicked and barbarous Design it was intended for) yet the obedience to your Commands, made me throughly observe it, even to every Line. And certainly, never was Mountain delivered of such a Mouse, nor was ever the Expectation of the People more deceived; insomuch that even the fiercest Tories (notwithstanding the violence of their Humours, and the rashness and insolence of their present Tempers) have been ashamed to defend this Piece. Yet there are few Follies, and Villainies, that seem to contribute to their Wicked Ends, which they will not publicly and most audaciously vindicate. They will assert the lawfulness of using Force upon Elections, that have been heretofore always free, and ever aught to be so. They will justify the carrying those Elections by the Minority, or by bringing in False, and excluding True Electors. They will encourage Men to the resigning of Franchises and Privileges, which they swear, when they are admitted into, to defend and maintain; making their Loyalty, as they falsely call it, to be founded upon Perjury and Treachery, in betraying the Rights of present Freemen and their Posterity. They will accuse the Wisest, Richest, most conscientious juries, for not finding Bills upon the Testimony of Profligate and Perjured Rascals, whom they themselves believe not; and applaud their Juries for giving most prodigious and unheard of Damages, where no Damages were sustained. They would promote and defend the imposing of the most xorbitant and unpresidented Fines, such as would make the Star-Chamber in vain abolished. Yet still they who have any sparks of Wit amongst them, are so true to their Pleasure, that they will not suffer Dulness to pass upon them for Wit, nor Tediousness for Diversion: which is the Reason that this Piece has not met with the expected Applause. And truly, if I may be allowed to Judge, (as Men that do not Poetize may be Judges of Wit, Humane Nature, and Common Decences) I never saw any thing that could be called a Play, more deficient in Wit, good Characters, or Entertainment, than this is.  
This Play, at first (as I am informed by some who have a nearer communication with the Poets and Players than I have) was written by another, intending to expose that unparallelled Villainy of the Papists in the most horrid Parisian Massacre. And Bays himself, as I am also told, expressed then an intention of writing the Story of the Sicilian Vespers, to lay open the treacherous, inhuman, bloody Principles of the Disciples of that Scarlet Whore.  
But he is since fallen from all Modesty and common Sense, and is not content with his own devil-like Fall, but like old Satan, he tempts his Friend, poisons and perverts his good Intentions, and by his wicked Management of the Play, turns it from the honest Aim of the first Author, to so diabolical an End, as methinks it should make a Civil Government blush to suffer it, or not to put the highest mark of Infamy upon it. But 'tis observable, though this could not be acted as it was first writtent against the Papists, yet when it was turned upon Protestants it found Reception.  
I cannot believe the first Author of himself guilty of such evil Intentions, because I have heard better things of him; but the old Serpent Bays has deluded him, as he would have done of the Reputation, if any had been gotten by it; for so as I am told he did endeavour to do in Discourse with all his own Friends, when he joined with him in Oedipus, which deserved Applause: and since he hath found that this hath gotten little or no Esteem in the Town, he renounces all he can of it, and endeavours to cast the greatest Odium upon his Partner.  
But Reproaches are thrown away upon this Wretch, who is hardened in his Folly and Wickedness, as much as any Irish Witness, therefore I shall as little as I can, touch him hereafter. But at present I shall fall upon the Consideration of this Parallel, (as he impudently calls it in his Prologue as I take it) and it is publicly known he intended to have had it acted by that Name, before it was forbidden to be acted by the Lord Chamberlain's Order.  
And 'tis not enough when he meets some of his old Acquaintance (whom he knows to be of an Opinion which he once professed to be of, and much different from what he now pretends) that he thinks as they do still, but he must write as he does, he is put upon it, etc. For certainly most exemplary Punishment is due to him for this most devilish Parallel; and methinks Magistrates (that respect their Oaths and Office) should put the Law in Execution against this lewd Scribbler.  
First, I shall consider in his pretended Parallel, the City of Paris in the time of Hen. 3. of France, the most tumultuous, seditious, rebellious City, fleshed in Murders and Massacres, Destruction of Protestants Root and Branch; a City which with their Barricades approached their King in his Palace, cut the Throats of his Guards in the Town, and terrified him into Flight from amongst them, and when they had him out, they kept him out turned out all his Friends, or abused, or imprisoned them, rifled their Houses, and committed innumerable Outrages; nay, forced a part of the Parliament of Paris to sit, and made the Precedent sign what they pleased, and named Officers themselves as the King's Advocates, etc. which you may see in a Deposition of Brison the Premier Precedent signed before two Notaries in a Book called Le Iournal de Regne de H. 3. p. 145. in short, they renounced him for their King, and were absolved by the Clergy from their Obedience to him.  
And that City, at that time, would he make a Parallel to the City of London in this King's Reign, whom God long preserve, to this City, that was so mainly instrumental in his happy Restauration, which has been his Bank ever since when he has needed it, which has not suffered so much as a Riot to pass unpunished during his Government; the Behaviour of whose Citizens has been peaceable to one another, and loyal to his Majesty. And even since these unhappy Divisions, when the Majority (as the Polls they have published inform us) thinking themselves (in the highest and dearest Privilege (the choice of those who should govern them) injured by the Court of Aldermen, yet make use of no other Weapons than Petitions; and, those not satisfactorily answered, fly to the King's justice alone, in his own Courts of Law for a Redress. And when armed Men were brought into Guild-Hall, and some of the Aldermen haled more like Dogs than Magistrates, when they, if they would, could have torn those pragmatical, insolent Officers to pieces, yet they bore it with Patience, though an unpresidented Violence: Nay, when their much beloved and Reverenced Sheriffs (in the greatest height of Fermentation in the City) at a time when they thought they had most important Use of them, were carried through the whole City, with not above four to guard them without any Repulse or lest sign of Scorn or Affront offered to that slender Guard, and so delivered to the Tower; shall this loyal, peaceable, Protestant City be a Parallel with that seditious, headstrong, rebellious popish one? Shall they who make use of nothing but the Law for their Relief be called rebellious by a loose and infamous Scribbler?  
But the Eschevins, who were Rebels must be compared to our Loyal Sheriffs, and must be abnsed and kicked about the Stage by Bully Grillon, (for he has made him no better) who durst as well have flung himself to fasting Lions as have done that in Paris.  
These Eschevins must be called Packers of Juries too by this ignorant Fellow, who it seems does not know that Juries were not used in Paris, no more than he and his Party would have them here; but this was to have a fling at our Sheriffs of the two last Years, whom this Party accuse of that Crime with most horrible Injustice. For who amongst them can complain of being undone during their time by any of their Juries; or indeed can give an Instance of one hard Verdict?  
But says Bays, the King cannot have Justice against Rebels: What! cannot the King have Justice because a wise Grand-Jury sworn without Favour or Affection, etc. to present Truth according to the best of their Knowledge, would not believe Men whom most of them knew had been perjured or were too infamous to be allowed for credible Witnesses, and in an improbable Matter too?  
Can any Man in his right Wits think the E. of S. (who has somewhat more Wit I dare swore than any Tory has) would trust such Villains with ten thousand Pounds a Year, his Life, Honour, Posterity and Reputation? whom the filliest Tory would not trust with 10 l. and besides there could be no Security of Concealment given by them, who whilst they were Papists had violated all the Sanctions of Secrecy which that cursed Religion authorises: And if they be since turned Protestants (as let who will believe so for me) they must know that our Religion allows no such Obligation, but on the contrary, makes it every Man's Duty, on the Peril of Damnation, to discover all treasonable Conspiracies he shall come to the Knowledge of. Besides, upon Examination they were inconsistent with themselves, and contradictory to one another, as plainly appears by the Paper published by Authority. Upon what ground then is this Clamour against Ignoramus juries? Has not the King as much Justice when the Innocent are acquitted, as when the Guilty are condemned? Sure the Acquittal of Innocence is much the more glorious part of his Justice.  
The next thing I shall consider is this Mercenary Varlet's intended Abuse of our House of Commons, the most August Assembly of Eurrope, chosen by the Suffrage of every one who has any considerable Inheritance or Interest in England, which I believe the Poet and most of his Party have not: And the most important Affair of the Succession must by the parallel of this impious Libeler be canvased upon the Stage: Was ever such Licence connived at in any Scribbler yet, that the Succession, so solemn a Matter, that it is not fit to be debated of but in Parliament, and the Alteration of which is only in the Power of King, Lords, and Commons, (and by the way to affirm the contrary to this is a Praemunire by the 13 of Eliz. cap. 1.) should be profaned so far as to be played with upon the Stage? this is a Matter that causes Astonishment in all sober Men.  
But see the Baseness (for it can't be Ignorance) in this Fellow, to deliver to the World so notorious a Falsehood as that the Commons only voted the Exclusion of the K. of Navarre, to make that, as he thinks, more parallel with our Case.  
D'Avila tells us Lib. 9 pag. 729. That the Clergy concluded, first that the K. of Navarre by Name, and all others suspected of Heresy, should be declared incapable of succeeding to the Crown, and that this was conformable to the Meaning and Doctrine of the Holy Canon: These are his very words: and in the same Page he says, The Nobility and Commons joined with the Clergy, which done Guilliaume d'Avanson Archbishop of Ambrun, with six Deputies of every Order presented this Vote to the King, insisting that he would make it a public Decree, causing it to be read and confirmed in the Assembly which should receive it, and swear to it as a Fundamental Law.  
See now the impudent Knavery as well as Folly of this Sycophant to falsify a History so common, that it is read by all Gentlemen that pretend to Reading. Besides, he does not know that the three Estates of France sat in one Room, as our two Houses of Parliament formerly did; but the Commons only must be mentioned, that our House of Commons might be jeered and abused and called Sovereigns and Gods, etc. and that it might be said (as he has learned from the Observator, and such licentious Pamphelteers, who have clamoured over and over) is the House of Commons the Government? is their Vote a Law? is their Vote a Decree? Why do these Prevaricating Rascals say this? Did ever the whole House of Commons, or the Majority of them pretend either? or, was ever any one Man so impudently foolish to affirm that they were the Government, or that their Vote was a Law?  
But let these knavish Coxcombs knov that that House (as the Peers are conciliarij nati) is called by Writ as the great Council of the Nation to consult, de arduis Regni, and are free to give their Opinions, and have no way of collecting those but by Votes; and a Vote is the Opinion of that House; that House at which these Villains may tremble before they are aware on't.  
Why then has this been all this while the Cry of such Scribblers? and particularly of old Bowman Roger, with his little pack of inferior Crape-grown-Men yelping after him?  
The Insolence of those who dare trifle with Parliaments is very great, after the Words in his Majesty's last Declaration, which are as followeth. But we still declare that no Irregularities in Parliament, shall ever make us out of love with Parliaments, which we look upon as the best Method for healing the Distempers of this Kingdom, and the only means to preserve the Monarchy in that due Reputation and Respect, which it ought to have both at home and abroad.  
The next thing I shall consider is, that this Bays would have the Duke of Guise, who was a bloody Adviser, and barbarous Instrument in the most horrid Parisian Masacre under one cruel, perfidious King, and Rebel a and Traitor, to another, and at the head of the most Impious, Popish League and Conspiracy (which nothing can come near but that which I fear the Popish World is now carrying on, though with somewhat more silence for the Extirpation of the Northern Heresy) and a Confederate with the Spaniard a Foreign Enemy; Even this Duke would he parallel, for so he plainly intends, with an innocent, loyal Protestant Prince at the Head of no League whatsoever, Son to our most Excellent and Gracious King, who cannot certainly (for all the Conspiracies of his Enemies against him) but be extremely pleased to see his own, and all the Virtues of his Ancestors shining in him. A Prince who hath sufficiently shown to all the World his Illustrious Bravery in Action, and his Heroic Magnanimity in suffering; one of such constant Equanimity that he is no more to be charmed from his Conscience with Allurements, than terrified from it by Dangers, and is unalterable by either; fierce in War, gentle in Peace, a most profound honourer of his Father, a most Loyal Subject to his Prince (as his Action at Bothwell-Bridg can testify) a constant frequenter of his Church, a zealous Detester of Popery, a resolute Asserter of the Protestant Religion, and a sincere Lover of his Country, eminently charitable to his Enemies, generously kind to his Friends, sweetly affable to all, a Lover of, and beloved by Mankind, a Prince against whom they have nothing to object but the unsought Love of the People, who admire him for his Virtues: and is this a Crime? Must he, (so far from being Rebellious, or in any way a Disturber of his Majesty's Peace, that he cannot be proved guilty so much as of a Riot) be a Parallel to so pernicious a Man as Guise? most infamous and ungrateful Libeler.  
And next (to sum up all this Fellow's impious Designs in one) that of endeavouring to make his King in his Play (whom he hath shown to be Fearful, Weak, Wicked, Bloody, Perfidious, and Hypocritical, even to fawning) a Parallel to our most Excellent and Gracious King, (for besides that the whole course of the Play would seem to insinuate his Intentions, he says, a Royal Star shone at his Birth, which did at Noon at the Birth of Ours) is Treason with a Witness, he would execute his King in Effigy, and would be even that judas he speaks of, with the last Sop that would betray him for Gain.  
But his Villainy extends farther than the Play; for he knows the Histories of this Hen. 3. are so common, that scarce any one escapes the reading of them: And now let us see what Manner of Prince these Histories make this Henry.  
That he was privy to that Massacre, (by which above an 100000 Protestant Throats were cut in France) the death of Ligneroles plainly proves; and that he was a Designer of it no Man doubted: himself appearing (as D'Avila says, p. 375.) in the Head of a Regiment of Guards the day after that bloody Eve of St. Bartholomew, to perfect it in Paris. But as he says there were scarce any Protestants left alive, they that were, were such who out of Terror wore the White Cross, the Mark of Distinction, to save their Lives by; and this at the Marriage of his Sister to the King of Navarre, when all the Protestants of Quality, by all the sacred Promises of Peace and Amity, were drawn together at Paris, to do honour to the Wedding of that King: This was a greater Impiety than ever was perpetrated by any Prince since Herod. An Act, against which the Bishop of Rhodes in his Life of H. 4, thus Exclaims— Execrable Action, which never had, nor never shall, if it please God, find its Parallel.  
Besides, D'Avila, who speaks most modestly of him, tells us, lib. 6. p. 478 & 479. That, for going publicly in the Sreets with Processions, and Penitents, and revelling with all manner of Luxury and Effeminacy at home, equally dividing his Time between Ladies and Minions, Penitents, Monks, and Friars, dissoluteness and devotion, (and by the way, superstition and lewdness together, is the worst of all Mixtures) and for slighting all the chief Princes and Noblemen, and raising Men of slender Fortunes, and little Interest to insolent Minions; and extremely harrassing the Clergy and the Commons, to enrich those Minions, he became odious and contemptible to his People, and the hatred of him was general; which D'Avila says, gave an easy occasion to the founding of the League. He was besides faithless, both to Protestants and Papists: He mortally hated both Parties, and endeavoured to keep them up one against another, by a linger Destruction to waste them; while he and his Minions took their ease, and lulled themselves in Effeminacy and Luxury. He has been often heard to break out into this Latin saying— De inimicis meis, Vindicabo inimicos meos; see D'Avila, p. 627. and more of this 651, and 656. In other Authors you may find much more, particularly in a Book written by one who lived in that Time, called, journal de choses memorables advenuës durant tout le Regne de H. 3. see p. 28. La Corruption estant telle en ce temps que les Farceurs, Bouffons, Putains, & Minion's, avoyent tout le Credit, (viz.) The Corruption of this Time being such, that Farce-Players, Buffoons, Whores, and Minions, had all the esteem.  
And for his dissoluteness, he says, he would go in Masquerade in women's Habits, and in Carnaval Time, masked with his Minions, he would scour the Streets till morning, cum ils fivent mille Insolences, where they would commit a thousand Insolences and Outrages.  
His Effeminacy had made him mean-spirited, for otherwise he would, as Monsieur de Villeroy advised him, have been sincere, and headed the Army himself, (for he hated the Protestants, and died a Papist) and then, as he said, the Power of the Guises would have vanished before him, as shadows in the Sunshine. He might have recovered his former Majesty, and the People would have followed his Standard. And as 'tis expressed in D'Avila, Men would rather take Water from the Fountain than the Brook, p. 625. He joined with the League, but did little, and was never sincere.  
The forementioned journal says, that on the 14 th' of December he swore, upon the Sacrament of the Altar, a perfect Reconciliation with Guise; and on the 23 d of the same month, he caused him to be murdered coming to the Council, (which he called that Morning, on pretence of dispatching some Business, that he might retire to his Devotion against the Holy Time); and when he saw him dead, he insulted over him, and with his Sword struck him o'er the Face, saying, Voila le Roy de Paris, There lies the King of Paris.  
It was not for nothing that he gave himself over to such immoderate Grief for the death of some of his beau Mignons, his young handsome Favourites that were killed, (three of them in a private Quarrel, and the other by Assasination, viz. Scomberg, Maugiron, Quelus, and St. Mesgrin) especially for the death of Maugiron and Quelus; whose Heads he caused to be shaved, and kept their fair Hair; and from the latter he took the Pendants off his Ears, which he had before with his own hands put on them.  
This puts me in mind of a Book, though not so public, as others, called, the Memoires of the Evesque de Grass, the Bishop of Grass, Almoner to Margaret Queen of Navarre this Hen. the Third's Sister, where he is accused de Peccatis non nominandis, of Sins not to be named; and amongst the rest, of too great a familiarity with that Sister, who, as the Bishop says, made him institute the Order of the Holy Ghost, an Order of Knighthood for her; the Letters in the Choler, which is worn, being the Greek Letter 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, for fidelta, the Italian word for Constancy, and H. and M. the two first Letters of their Names interwoven together.  
The Bishop of Rhodes says, p. 27. that there never was a Court more vicious or corrupted, than this of Hen. 3. Impiety, Atheism, Witchcraft, all horrible Wickedness, black Ingratitude and Perfidiousness, Poisonings and Assasinations, reigning there in the highest degree.  
Now upon the whole Matter, (though it cannot really reflect upon a KING who is no more a Parallel to this, than Heaven is to Hell) does not this Villain deserve to be hanged, drawn, and quartered for his Intention? And 'tis pity the Law should not reach him, for offering to make the best of King's parallel with one of the worst: who was overtaken, for his foul Impieties, by the Judgement of God at St. Clou, in the same Room where the Massacre was agreed upon▪ on the same day of the same Month, at the same Hour, by one of the same Party, for which he with others committed that Massacre.  
Well this is true, he has exposed Hen. 3. but he magnifies the King of Navarre sufficiently, he scarce thinks he can praise this King in reversion enough, though the King in possession is little obliged to him.  
Would he have this King of Navarre a Parallel too? how can that serve his turn?  
I need not cite any Pages of Books to show the vast Perfections of this Hero, for all the Authors that write of him, render him a Prince who justly merited the Title he obtained of Henry le Grand. In D'Avila, so far as Henry was concerned in the Civil Wars, you have an Account, and you may find a particular one of his Life and Actions in Mezeray, and the Bishop of Rhodes.  
His renown in War was never surpassed by any Man; having been a General at fifteen, and Head of the Protestants; He was almost continually in Arms till five and forty, and so often in Action, that he was said to wear Boots more than Shoes. And as a French Author says, in a piece called, Reeveil de quelques Bell's Actions & Paroles de H. le Grand, he signalised his Valour in four or five pitched Battles, in above a hundred bloody Encounters, and two hundred Sieges.  
He sustained seven Wars that ended with Treaties of Peace, with a handful of Men, when he often had several Royal Armies against him at once; sometimes, as the Bishop of Rhodes says, he had seven or eight Armies against him.— He was of invincible Courage, toiling and hazarding as much as any private Soldier.  
He had infinite Prudence, Readiness, Sagacity, Vigilance, Industry, and Activity, great Mercy and Clemency, Temperance, Justice, Generosity, and Gentleness, and was void of all Gall or Malice, see the Bishop of Rhodes, p. 141. In his Conversation he was free, sincere, and wise, and still preserving a Majesty pleasant, and extremely witty; innumerable are the wise and witty Sayings of his, which are registered and transmitted from Father to Son, and at this day quoted by every Frenchman.  
And when by his unparallelled Courage and Address, he surmounted greater Difficulties than ever Monarch did to get a Throne; he made himself King of all France, not of a Party, and the least Party, as Henry the Third did; He bore himself with equal Justice and Clemency to all, forgiving and obliging all the Heads of the League one after another.  
He had such an entire Affection for his People, that in his Letters to Governors of Provinces his Surintendants and Parliaments, viz. his Courts of Justice he would conjure them in this manner; Ayez soin de mon Peuple, ce sont mes Enfants, Dieu m'en a commis la Garde, I'en suis responsable. Have a care of my People, they are my Children, God has committed the preservation of them to me, I must answer for it; or in words to this purpose.  
He sought nothing so much as the Love of his People, and did not, like a Tyrant, scorn and hate them, and endeavour to govern them by Fear. No Prince fears the People, but he that injures them. No Prince would have the People afraid of him, but he that's afraid of them; nor d●es any one hate and scorn the People, who is not hated and scorned by them. This Prince was the Love of France, and Terror of Spain. And 'tis a Princely thing to be a Terror to the Neighbouring Nations; which never King can be, without the Love of his Subjects.  
This Henry esteemed his Word as Sacred; he hated Lewd Prelates, and Corrupt judges, above all Men, and could not endure to have his Subjects grieved and vexed by Law.  
He encouraged Learned Men, and gave Pensions to Cardinal Gondy, Perron, and to Scaliger, Causabon, and many Learned Foreigners.  
For his Generosity, he made a Soldier, who had wounded him in the War, be taken into his Guards, under the Command of Monsieur Vitry; and being one day in his Coach with the Marshal d' Estrees, he showed him to him, saying, Voila le Soldat qui me blessa a la Iournee d' Aumale. And when it was told him, that a certain Captain who had been in the League, a stout Fellow, notwithstanding he had pardoned and done him good, yet would not love him. He answered, je lui veux faire tant de bien, que je le ●orceray de m'aimer malgrè lui. I'll do him so much good, that I will make him lovo me in spite of his Teeth.  
Though he was easily inclined to pardon, yet against horrible Facts he was severely just; when a Gentleman petitioned for the Life of his Nephew, a Murderer, or Assassinate, said he, I am sorry I can't grant your desire, it becomes you to do like an Uncle, and me like a King. I excuse your Request, do you excuse my refusal. This was not like H. 3 d's suffering one of his Minions, Monsieur Villequer, to murder his Wife big with Twins in his own Court, then at the Castle of Pontois, unpunished.  
The Instances are innumerable of the Virtues and gallant Actions, the wise and witty Sayings of this Henry the truly Great, and I leave the Poet to find out a Parallel, but I assure him it will be somewhat hard, and I cannot possibly guests whom he can pitch upon.  
But let him know that this Henry, though next in Reversion, with all these incomparable Virtues, (after the Murder of H. 3. committed by the way, by a mortal Enemy to this Henry the Great) was forced to be at many Seiges and in many bloody Encounters, and to fight four pitched Battles, and change his Religion before he could be possessed of the Throne.— Here was that which blotted all his Virtues, his foul Apostasy. His Mother, one of the bravest Women that ever was, before her Death (being afterwards poisoned by the bloody Papists) conjured him by all the Arguments she could, never to forsake the Protestant Religion, assuring him that the Judgement of God would overtake him if he did; as our K. james wished it might all his Posterity that should so apostatise. She proved a true Prophetess, for this Henry was stabbed by Ravillac, a wicked Instrument of that Church which still disinherited him. He had been before stabbed in the Mouth, and his Escape was wonderful, and Monsieur de Sully a Protestant, and always about him told him he had renounced God with his Mouth before, and bade him have a care of renouncing him with his Heart lest his Judgement should reach him there, which afterwards came to pass; and would this foolish Poet have this Judgement paralleled too? if so let him tell us upon whom.  
Lastly, let us consider how this League is a Parallel, and how it will serve his turn: Does he mean it to the Meal-tub Plot? or any other such Protestant Plot? or the Plot, as they will have it, of a solitary joiner going to Oxford to seize the King in the midst of his Guards? as the great Forces of the League would have done Henry, almost ungarded once at Blois; or does he intent it to Parson Boeth's Plot? who was a Trooper for that purpose with a Black Horse, the place of whose standing could never be found out to this day (though Advertisements several times were put into News-Books, with promises of 5 l. to him that would discover it) nor did he ever see any of the Troop, as he said. This was one of the Witnesses, formerly a Parson in the Diocese of Durham, convicted at Newcastle for Clipping, Coining, and Murder, turned out of Benefice and Orders, and degraded by his Diocesan. Or I'll warrant you he means the abhorred Paper never subscribed by, or published to any body, before it came to the Grand-Jury; for he cannot mean to parallel a Nation of Protestants endeavouring to secure themselves from the danger of Popery by Law (which the King and Court-party thought there was danger of, or they would not have offered Expedients) with a Party of Papists, who contrived Massacres, Murders, and Rebellions, to secure their Religion: How then will this League serve his turn? this was a Popish League, entered into by the Clergy, Nobility, and Commons of France, and as D'Avila says, pag. 441. at first ambiguously favoured by Pope Gregory 13. a wary Man, who afterwards gave them good Hopes, and exhorted tham to be watchful for the good of true Religion, and the Extirpation of Heresy: This was pretty plain, but by his Successor Sixtus Quintus, it was openly approved, pag. 579.  
This Pope in the Consistory on Septemb. 9 1585. declared the King of Navarre and Prince of Conde, Heretics, incapable of any Succession, especially of France, depriving them of their present States they possessed, absolving all their Vassals from their Oaths, and excommunicating those that should obey them afterwards. D'Avila, p. 575.  
That Sixtus Quintus did patronise the League, his Oration alone (made in the Consistory, justifying the Murder of Hen. 3.) would prove. And 'tis undeniable that Pope Gregory after him did openly encourage the League more fiercely than any of them, for he allowed 15000 Crowns a Month, and sent them an Army of twelve thousand Men. See the Bishop of Rhodes his Life of Hen. 4. p. 148.  
So that here's a Prince excluded by the Pope by a holy League (as they called it) backed by him, consisting almost of all the Popish Nobility and Commons, and the whole Roman Clergy in France, for being of a Religion differing from that of his Country; how then will this do this Scribler's Business?  
Does the Pope and all the Clergy, etc. think it fit and lawful to exclude a Prince for professing a different Religion, and will the Papists be angry if the Protestants are of the same Opinion (in case they had such a one likely to succeed) no sure they can't have the Impudence. What it concerns Protestant's in that Case to do, enough has been heard by us in Parliamentary Debates. I for my part believe that the Crown of England being hereditary, the next in Blood have an undoubted Right to succeed, unless God make them, or they make themselves uncapable of Reigning. They who talk otherwise of the Succession, would make as if England were the Estate of a King, viz. Tha● he were sole Proprietor of all the Land, and that the People were only his Stock or cattle upon it.  
In the mean time 'tis wonderfully silly for this Fellow to bring a Precedent point blank against the End he designs it, as to this particular.  
As to the rest, his Intentions are evidently in this Play, to insinuate by false Colours into the People, and as much as in him lies into the King, a Hatred to the Capital City, and a scorn of Authority placed in the Citizens; an aversion and contempt of the House of Commons; and lastly, (for which the whole Play seems chiefly to be written) the assassination of a Gallant and Innocent Prince, whom the Poet by his Parallel would represent as Guilty.  
'Tis the Murder of Guise, of all things, which the bloodthirsty Tories so loudly cry up, and are fond of; an Act that no Christian can defend in Hen. 3. though Guise was a guilty Man, (Princes having no Authority over their Subjects Lives, but what the Law allows them). An Act, that the Bishop of Rhodes says, the odious Circumstances of it, made it appear horrible to the Eyes of the Protestants, (though they lost a mortal Enemy by it) and they thought it of the same Piece with the Massacre. And the same Author says, that several Gentlemen having offered themselves to the King of Navarre, to go and kill the Duke of Guise, he always let them know that he abhorred such a Proposal, and that he should neither esteem them his Friends, nor honest Men, if they kept it in their thoughts, p. 79.  
And of this Assassination would the Poet and his Party have a Parallel upon the Duke of Monmouth; a barbarity not to be thought on, but by base and infamous Villains.  
'Tis observable that Massacres, private Murders, and Assassinations, are in no part of Europe, frequently committed, but in those Countries where the Popish Religion prevails; if such a cursed Conspiracy of Priests against the Laity, can be called a Religion.  
And would these impious jesuited Wretches bring such detested Practices into a Protestant Country? And having, by the good Providence of God, missed of the King's Life, would they attaque that of his Innocent Son? which is at present so great a Guard to his Father, that could they but compass the one, 'twere much to be feared, they would not long spare the other.  
The great Industry, Craft, and Violence, that have been practised to smother that damnable Popish Plot against his Sacred Life, and turn it into Ridicule, with this Design following it at the Heels, would convince any reasonable Man that it is still going on; and God avert the success of the Conspiracy.  
That some Papists should think the Assassination of the Duke of Monmouth a good thing, I do not so much wonder, but that any who call themselves Protestant's should herd with such Monsters, and join in the Cry, as it is said they do, and even some whom he raised, who owe it to him that they eat now, who would, in the height of his Power, have out-fawned his Dogs, this is most monstrous; this plainly shows one Error of his Life, the preferring of such Miscreants.  
This Design shows such base and Villainous Principles in the Poet and his Party, that had I had so little wit to have been one of them before, I must have quitted 'em now, or have quitted all Pretensions to Sense or Honesty.  
Those who so industriously, zealously, and passionately pressed and solicited for the acting of this Play, after it was forbidden by the King, did in that sufficiently testify their perfidious and bloody Inclinations; and whoever they were, I wish his Majesty would set a Mark upon them, and take care to secure his Sacred Person from them.  
I am sure, let them be as Great as they can, it is a base thing to encourage a Murder, and Assassination, as they did who deceived his Majesty, in getting Him to Licence this Play, which he could not endure when he saw it, only to satisfy their Malice. But most certainly, they that set this Tool of a Poet at work at first, (as he says he was put on by Great Persons) must have all the Vices of Henry the Third, and none of the Virtues of Henry the Fourth.  
But let them assure themselves the best and wisest of the People, will not be deluded. And our King, as he is too Good and Great to harbour any such Thoughts within his Royal Breast, so he has a Judgement too piercing not to see through these impious Designs, and discern who are the Authors of them; and would to God he would punish all that Work Evil against him. And amongst the rest, that he would put a stop to the insolence of such Licentious Poets, whose foolish and impious Works, joined with the false Instructions of Ignorant, Petulant, and conceited Tutors, with the French Education, and the vicious Examples in Paris and this City, have been the main Causes of the corruption of the Heads and Hearts, the Intellectuals and Morals of so great a part of our young Gentry, that it can never be sufficiently bewailed by all sober Men.  
For his Majesty, I wish to God that all his Subjects Hearts were open to Him, that he might truly distinguish between his Friends and his Enemies; and that he may long reign with all content and prosperity here, and arrive at Eternal Felicity hereafter, shall ever be the Prayer of him who truly honours his King, and sincerely loves his Country, and is,  
SIR, Your most humble Servant.   

SIR,  
I Shall shortly send you some Observations upon the Faults of the Play, considering it as a Play. But it appears to me, that Bays did not intend it for a Diversion, but for a Direction and Advice what was to be done; and has more mind to recommend himself as a Counsellor, than a Poet, in this. 'Tis a fine Age, when Mercenary Poets shall become Politicians, and their Plays business of State.  
FINIS.