THE LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT of the Marquis d'Ancre. TOGETHER WITH HIS Arraignment. His Obsequies. His Wife's tears on his death. The Reunion of the King with his men of War. The rousing of the Soldat François. All declaring the divine judgement of God on the death of the said Marshal d'Ancre. Out of the French Copies printed at Paris and Rouen. BY WISDOME·PEACE BY PEACE PLENTY. printer's or publisher's device LONDON Printed by Felix Kyngston for William Arondell, at the Angel in Paul's Churchyard. 1617. THE DIVINE judgement of God in the death of the Marquis d'Ancre. OH the just judgements of God oh profound and incomprehensible counsel of the Almighty! oh sovereign decree of the divine providence! That man is unhappily perished, that sought to overwhelm us in misery. He that with a disloy all heart would have procured a tragical end to France, hath tragically ended his days by the hands of truehearted Frenchmen: and hath buried himself in his own pride, that would have buried the greatness of Princes, and built an absolute power in the ruins and decay of this perpetual Monarchy. But what do I say, buried; O wonderful prodigy, O prodigious wonder! That same man hath been by the people unburied, and deprived of the sweet repose of the dead, who in his life time had deprived France of a peaceable tranquillity, hath been ignominiously hung up as a treacherous and calumniating Haman, on the same erected gallows, which his own natural cruelty and art of wickedness had ordained for such good Mardocheoses, as undertook to complain of his tyranny, or to discover the many practices of his treasons and disloyalty against our King. Moreover, they hung him with his heels upward, as if his head so monsterously culpable, durst not so much as behold the▪ heavens; was with great disgrace and infamy shamefully dragged through the stinking puddles and dunghills of the City of Paris; he that long since had drawn upon himself the cords and snares of the divine justice, and who had infected France with the ordure, corruption and stinking savour of his vices; he which sought to dismember the body of the State, himself was dismembered and torn in pieces; was burned and consumed in the flaming fire, who would have burned and consumed the liberty of the people with the fire of his violence; his ashes were scattered in the wind, to show the puff of his own ambition, which was so suddenly turned to ashes. He believed that the bright sky of his authority was free from any clouds, the clear sun of his dominion without eclipse, the lightsome day of his glory void of darkness, the vast sea of his greatness without tempest, the roses of his good fortune grew without pricks, and that all the felicities of the world were perpetually to shine upon him: But he suddenly found his authority lost, his dominion smothered, his glory extinguished, his greatness trodden down, his good fortunes changed, and felt that his former prosperities, were but a sweet empoisoned bait of fortune, turned into the gall and bitterness of all mishaps. He was put to death by the King's command, that would have commanded the King; he ended his days with violent death, that violated the respect due unto his Majesty, violated justice, violated the laws; and he that was indeed altogether nothing but violence itself, having climbed so high, that he could not well be brought low, but by death itself; which justice confirmeth, the Law approveth, and equity commandeth, Right counseleth, Reason ordaineth, Histories allow, and that precedents teach; and that cannot be taken in evil part, without contradicting the approbation, authority, commandment, counsel, ordinance, confirmation, and teaching of the whole world; and to accuse of iniquity, justice, law, equity, right, reason, histories, examples, and all that may be termed uprightness in the whole universe. The infection of his life, therefore hath been most justly, but yet with too much honour mingled with his blood, in the midst of his (as I may term them) Court-gallyslaves; who did inconsiderately adore the blind Idol of his greatness. Whence may be learned, that vice never goes unpunished; although to be vicious, of itself is punishment sufficient. monsieur de Vitry, most faithful to the King, having brought both his heart and hand together to the execution of so heroic an act, that Histories shall perpetually record to the memory of men, and shall flow from the pen of the most learned within the Temple of immortality. No, no, it was not earth, but Heaven had the greatest stroke in his death; it was the hand of Angels more than men, and the sentence of his tragical end was first pronounced in God's counsel, before the King decreed it. By which it may be gathered, how near this good and wise Monarch is united unto the eternal God in his mind and soul; seeing that the will of the most High, who holdeth the hearts of Princes in his hand, agreeth so well with the Kings; and that the Protector of the whole world, hath been well pleased with the desires of this great King, thereby to manifest his consent unto his wishes. He ended the course of his life entering into the Lowre, where he thought himself so firmly anchred, that he was never to depart thence; and felt the icy stroke of death by pistols and fiery weapons, who in the midst of his frosty cowardice and temerity, was the kindler and flaming firebrand of sedition; who with an ardent appetite greedily longed to trouble all France with the fire of Civil war. And whereas the sky had been long before (even in the fairest month in the year) overspread with a gloomy darkness, as being inwardly touched with remorse of our sensible griefs which ascended thither; seemed to mourn at our sinister mishaps, and to mingle its continual drops with the bitter tears which overflowed the eyes and hearts of all truehearted Frenchmen, who could not without extreme grief undergo that unreasonable tyranny; or as if it would join its moisture together with the blood, which the overruling of this execrable Tyrant caused to be spilled, by a furious and more than Civil war: even at this instant begun it to reassume the brightness of its countenance, and to cherish the earth with its seasonable mildness, even at the fearful image of this man's death, nearly resembling that Herennius who was struck with lightning, the sky being without clouds, and the air bright and clear; as if by the calmness of the weather, the calm of Peace would be represented unto us, which France is shortly to enjoy, by means of this long wished for death; and that with his blood he was to extinguish the flames of war, which his ambition had unhappily kindled; a war that fought against the public peace, the union of subjects, the joy of friends, the King's authority, the strength of Frenchmen, and the good of France; a war that was the motive of many wars, and such a war whereof his Majesty desired as much to see an end, as of a war that turned good things into bad, so a peace would have turned bad into good. He ended his life in the beginning of a week, as if thereby the heavens did presage unto us, that his end was to be the beginning of our happiness. Before moon, in token that we were to re-behold the Eastern part of the Son of justice, which was eclipsed by the earth of his avarice, and now began a new to peep out upon the Horizon of France, in the Orient of the happy reign and Empire of our good King: whose admirable virtues shall never be seen to set, and is to reign in all prudence and absolute authority; having rather his head on his Crown, than his Crown on his head, and his hand rather within his Sceptre, than his Sceptre in his hand: and moreover to govern himself by the grave advice of his best and principal Officers, and so much the rather, for that by bad counsel, most commonly a great King is made a little one; and chose by good counsel a petty King is made a great one. He is confined to the centre of death rather in the month of April then March, in regard that he had no thing in him that was martial or generous; and could better lay his hands on the King's coffers and treasure, then on a sword: and to conclude, was constrained to give up the ghost in the midst of the spring, in the flower of his age, who was altogether thorns in his heart, as if the ground were not able to bear any longer, among those pleasant flowers and fair Flower-deluces, which are displayed in this mild season, this Cantharide and mortal poison of the Flowers of France. FINIS. THE LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT OF Sr. CONCHINI DE CONCHINO the late pretended Marshal of France, brought into the world by one of his Gentlemen, who was slain near to Nanterre, and appeared unto the Peasant that slew him. WHEREIN ALSO IS DISCOVRsed the meeting of the said Conchini with Raviliack, in form of a Dialogue. Out of the French Copy. BY WISDOME·PEACE BY PEACE PLENTY. printer's or publisher's device LONDON Printed by Felix Kyngston for William Arondell, at the Angel in Paul's Churchyard. 1617. THE LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT OF Sr. CONCHINI DE CONCHINO the late pretended Marshal of France, brought into the world by one of his Gentlemen, who was slain near to Nanterre, and appeared unto the peasant that slew him. Wherein also is discoursed the meeting of the said Conchino, with Ravailac, in form of a Dialogue. THis very night, about twelve a clock, as I walked in the Moonlight, there appeared unto me a fearful vision; it was a very tall man, whose head seemed to look out at the window of a Tower in which he was enclosed, and his feet appeared beneath it: I was greatly amazed at the first sight of him, having never seen so strange an Apparition before: nevertheless having somewhat better advised myself, and considered this Tower, I be thought me, Might not this be some one of the Conchinies servitors; for they were accustomed in fight to arm themselves with Citadels. Thereupon I resolved to draw near unto him, and took a long pole in my hand; which I had no sooner done, but in a broken voice I understood these words, Stir not, my friend, stir not I pray thee, wilt thou twice kill me? By his voice I knew the coward, and said, Behold, this lusty Champion, who being the other day overthrown, is now returned again, it bodes him no good luck; I came near him and he retired, (so much are those kind of men used to turn their backs), and would have shook off his unweeldy currasse, that compassed him round about, to be so much the lighter; I ran after him, being assured he was some poor devil of very little courage, that would thus run away. Then began he to cry aloud, Down with your weapon, down with your weapon, I threw away my pole that served me for a sword, and being near him I said, Whosoever thou be, thy humour is but base and cullion-like to fear death, having no life at all in thee: but in a trembling note he answered me, It is the nature of cowards, especially of rich ones, to fear blows, and avoid quarrels: but said I, let's leave this talk, and tell me wherefore thou comest hither: is it to revenge thy master's death? Ghost. No, but he hath armed me as thou seest, and sent me to the Parisian Gentlemen, to give them notice, that he hath made them Executors of his last Will and Testament. Peasant. Wherefore then dost thou repair to me, and not to them? Ghost. I did always fear those men, who have so often hardly dealt with my master and his servants. Peasant. But tell me, where is thy Master? Ghost. He is below, where he breaks, ruins, and makes havoc of all: saying, he'll come and revenge his death, and Cerberus finds much ado to withhold him. Peasant. What, thy master then is become a very shrewd fellow. Ghost. Somewhat more courageous than myself, for he is persuaded that being once dead, he can be slain no more; therefore was he not very valiant, but he reserved himself to give the last stroke for Soissons, if others could not have compassed it, and had very shortly besieged it, had not the river prevented him. Moreover, did he not always remain in Normandy, expecting the enemies coming hither to surprise him? beside, he was so good a servant to the King, that he would never leave his company. Peasant. But for my part I believe, heloved his Crown better. Ghost. He made me not privy to all his secrets; but this I can tell you, that he hath already stirred up many wars in hell; yea he attempted to usurp the very seat of Pluto, and quarreled a great while with Ravaillack, for precedence. Peasant. That name is odious among the French, but there is no remedy, let us hear the story of it. Ghost. Upon a time being all assembled, to take some order for the sending hither of a fury to redeem my mistress, he offered to take place before Ravaillack (for two persons of one humour can never agree together); Ravaillack maintained that in the world he had done Pluto better service than my master; that he had killed a great King, and had filled all France with troubles: my master truly answered, that he indeed began the troubles, but if that himself had not for many years together carried a great hand in the business, the peace had soon returned; and though he had not given such a blow, yet his heart was good enough to do it; for it plainly appeared that he & the King could not reign together: with other such reasonings that were by Rhadamant thus determined, that it was to be confessed, that if Ravaillack were taken for the master, his apprentice would in the end surpass him. Peasant. O my God, how I fear his return being banished out of hell! which if it happen, on my faith I'll sell all I have, and go to hell, for I esteem nothing so great a hell, as to be subject to the power of that Tyrant. These things are detested by all good-minded French men: I pray thee let us there leave them, & return we to the cause of thy coming: and first of all let us hear a word of the estate and fortunes of thy Master. Ghost. My Master hath been raised in this world, from the lowest, to the highest degree of state; and in hell he argued for precedence with Pluto himself. Peasant. It is said, that at best he was but a Gentleman. Ghost. Yes, if there be any in Florence under the great Duke, his father was Secretary to his Excellence. Peasant. And is that nothing? Ghost. Not in regard of Marshal of France. Peasant. And his grandfather, was he not a mechanical fellow? Ghost. Be it so; I may say of him, as was said of an ancient Roman: he was not made noble by his race, but his race was ennobled by him: to conclude, he that burned the Temple at Ephesus was never so famous as he. Peasant. Is his wife as well descended as he? Ghost. No, she at first was a School mistress. Peasant. I believe it well, for yet she very well loves to play the Mistress. Ghost. But I have heard in hell, that her name Galliga signifies sorrow to Frenchmen, for Gaya in Italian is sorrow, and the Latin word Gallis is to Frenchmen. But to return to our purpose, this is his will: First and foremost, he gives all men to understand, that in dying, God did grant unto him that grace which he doth not to all the world, that is, not to see the devil at the hour of his death. Peasant. Truly I believe it: for (as I have heard) he had not so much leisure. Ghost. Item, he willeth and ordaineth that all his goods be distributed to each one in this manner: that all and every Castle and strong hold which he usurped, under colour of the Kings will and pleasure, be restored to his Majesty. Item, to his wife he giveth his beauty, because he knows she stood in need of it▪ and for her comfort, he hoped to see her shortly: and that to come to him her way lies by the Greave. Item, to his son he giveth and bequeatheth the high way to Florence, to walk in, provided always, that it may be lawful for him so to do. Item, to his brother the one half of his cowardice, because he was too valiant; and the other half to the regiment of Normandy. But now tell me, what hath been done here in the world since his death, that I may report it unto him. Peasant. A strange metamorphosis, every thing is changed, wars into peace; thunder, lightning, rain and hail, into fair weather: The dumb speak, and those that did speak, are taken speechless: he that was taken but for a child, hath appeared to be the most valiant and magnanimous King in the world, the true son of Henry the Great: and those that erected gallows for the King's good servants, are hung thereon themselves. FINIS. Phoebus once mounted, Phoebe declines her state, Cutthroats and thieves are now quite out of date: Truth's spoken freely, to the shame of liars, Good men at length have got their long desires. Upon CONCHINI his descent into Hell. When Conchini came to Hell, The Fiends withstood him, and did yell▪ And cried out on God amain, Do not we, here suffer pain Enough already, in this place? Where we have no resting space: In these Caves we (were't thou contented) Enough already are tormented.