THE HEROYK LIFE And …

THE HEROYK LIFE And DEPLORABLE DEATH Of The most Christian King HENRY the fourth.

Adressed to his Immortall Memory; By P: MATHIEV, Counceller 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 haue presumed to offer this discourse vnto your view, not for that you vnder­stand it not in the Originall, or to instruct your knowledge, the French tongue beeing familiar vnto you, and the subiect, with all the Circumstan­ces, as well knowne as to any; but to make you Censor of the worke, and of the Authors integri­tie, hauing remained in that Court, and receiued fauours from that great King, liuing in the height of worldly felicity, and with all beene an eye wit­nesse of that sad and mournfull spectacle, and of the generall consternation of the French, lamen­ting the Tragicall and sodaine death of their King, to their ir-reparable losse.

This worke may happily seeme to some vnseaso­nable, when as his death is in a manner forgotten, there hauing also beene so many Pamphlets, and petty discourses published of that subiect. But as my Authors excuse is, That time can prescribe no bounds to their sorrow, nor reason moderate their griefe, which renues with time, and therefore ne­uer vnseasonable to lament so great a losse. So I finding it written by an eloquent Pen, and by his owne Historiographer, who attended on him dai­ly, to record both his words and Actions, and who [Page] both could and hath written many particularities vpon this Accident, which were vnknowne to o­thers, haue thought it as worthy the knowledge of our Nation as any of the rest, and I hope will giue the Reader more content.

I haue presumed to make your Lordship Pa­tron of my labour, both for that you can Iudge if there bee any thing defectiue, and in respect of my owne priuate obligation, hauing receiued many fauours from your Lordship during my aboade in France, with that hopefull Gentleman Maister Henry Howard: Vouchsafe it my good Lord your countenance, and accept it as a poore testimonie of his thankfulnesse, who is and will be

Alwayes ready to do you seruice: Ed: Grimeston.

The Author to the Queene Regent.

MAdam this worke is dedicated to the publike weale, whether all Histories goe; to the Kings seruice, whereat all affections should ayme; to the immortall reputation of Henry the Great, whether all my thoughtes shall tend, and presenting it to your Maiesty as to the Gouernesse of the realme, to the mother of my king, to the wid­dow of my maister, I discharge my selfe of that which I owe to the Instruction of Posterity, to the glory of the Sonne, to the memorie of the Father, and to the honor of your commande­ments. I am sorry that it could not adde the praise of diligence to the merit of my obedience, but his slacknesse makes it not vnseasonable; the subiect is Immortall, the world will neuer [Page] cease to admire so glorious a life, nor to lament so tragicall and sodaine a death. This fatal day of the 14. of May, which should haue beene the period of your mourning, hath been the renewing of it, and hath reuiued your sorrowes with such passion as the spirits could hardly bee stayed from following your teares. Our greefes shall ne­uer be so old, but they shall still find new causes to lament. It is true (Madame) that they are much eased by the happy effects of your regency which hath preserued those that held themselues lost, hath maintained the lawes of the state, rai­sed vp the subiects hope, let the world see that in a Queenes hart 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 liue againe, for whose departure the Earth weeps, and Hea­uen reioyceth at his returne, he raignes in the King his sonne, he triumphs in the restauration of France and in the renowne of his vertues, which liues in you Madam, he breathes in your sighes, hee is reuerenced in your authority, [Page] he hath left you the force of his iudgement, the respects of his maiesty, the felicity of his raigne, the wills of all his subiects, whereof you dispose in such sort as it seemes the time present hath no cause to feare the future, nor to greeue for that is past.

P. Mathieu.
[figure]
THis was that Man of Men, whose Cradle sprung
With Happy Lawrells (that to Heauen aspir'd)
Whose Youth with Worth of all the Worthies rung,
Whose Aged Glories all the World admir'd:
His Countries Father; Others Arbitrer:
The Mercury of Peace, the Mars of Warre.
This Prince of Prowesse and of Policy,
Arming to ayd the Rightfull Heire of Cleue,
Step-Mother Rome (Mother of Trechery)
Did of his Life with bloody Knife bereaue;
Step-Mother Rome; well may we call thee so,
That now hast kild two Sonnes, two Kings arow.

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 seene againe; that nature is neuer weary, and that the Phoenix riseth againe out of hir owne ashes; yet will it be hard to make vs hope, that Europe can pro­duce another Henry, whose actions are admired by all the Kings of the earth, and being compared to those of fore-passed a­ges are like vnto those high mountaines which disdaine the proudest rocks that are vnder them.

In whom could there concurre so many [Page 2] merits? for whom will vertue be so hap­py, and fortune so constant? for whom will heauen doe so great wonders? who will vndertake to exceed him? who dares equall 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 Couragious the world beares not, and a better there cannot be.

His life is so full a Table, as there is not any thing but stayes the eye, stirres vp the Iudgment, and drawes it to Admiration. They shall not speake 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 brauest courages.

Theseus could not but talke of Her­cules labours: Themistocles could not sleepe when he thought of the com­bats of Miltiades: great Princes will feele their heartes inflamed with glo­ry and honour, when they shall re­present [Page 3] vnto themselues the victories and Trophees of great Henry.

The very day that heauen made him be born at Pau, it gaue him the crown of Na­uarre, it promised him that of France; and did assure him that the glory of his life and of his raigne 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 greatnes of courage to other Princes of his time.

His court was in the village, his nurce a contry-woman, his Courtiers peasants, his language Bearnois, his excercises in the field, his walkes among the rocks, his delights in Innocent things, his appetites for necessary things, his distast in super­fluous; taking part with the children of the village, of the iniuries of the ayre, and the indisposition of the seasons, whilst the [Page 4] equality of the age, and the liberty of that life held the difference of qualities and conditions suspended.

His inclination to Armes had not di­minished the pleasure he had taken in learning, if they had not beene forced to gird him with a sword as well for defence as ornament. The Ignorance of that which he should haue learned, and the forgetting of that which he had learned, did frame in his mind a continuall griefe; complayning of the little care they had had of his Institution: for hee desired in greatest occasions to marry his penne vn­to his sword as Caesar had done.

As his breeding had inured his body to trauell, and had presented paine vnto him with pleasure, and pleasure with paine, fortune had made his mind inuincible to Accidents, and gaue him so great in quan­tity, and so diuers in quallity, as in the end she was forced to confesse that his cou­rage did surpasse the violence of her at­tempts [Page 5] and his wisdome the strata­gems of hir deseignes.

Diuersity of Religion troubling the most happy and profound Peace that e­uer France inioyed, he was brought to Bois de Veisane, or Vincennes, there to be bred vp with the Infants of France, or ra­ther to be a precious gage of The ancient fidelitie of the house of Bourbon. The Queen his mother drew him from the court, to instruct him in the religion whereof she would haue him Protector, as they which made profession therof did acknowledge him for their Generall after the death of the Prince of Conde, and the losse of the Battell of Iarnack. His presence did reuiue their danted spirits, and stayed the stran­gers who would no more serue a cause miserably deiected, condemned by the Kings Edicts, and pursued with publike hatred. Relligion found at Rochabeille that she might hope for more by the pre­sence of this Prince then by the force of [Page 6] her Armes. The Armie depended vpon his authoritie, and hee depended of his Mothers, who beeing courteously seuere, did not allow his youth any thing, but what shee might not well refuse.

After the Battell of Mont-conter, hee went aboue three hundred leagues in a short time, and hauing recouered new forces, hee let them see at Rene-le-duk, that hee would neuer lay downe Armes, vntill hee had purchased for his party, ey­ther an assured Peace, or an absolute vic­torie. Hee first obtained a truce for two moneths, and then a peace, more benefi­ciall then the precedent, which should haue been the end, but it was but a change of the miseries of France.

Vnder his Influences appeared that fa­tall and furious Canicular, The Massa­cre on saint Barthol­mews day. which made a burning sword runne through the streets of Paris, and throughout all the good Townes of France. His liberty was re­strained, his conscience forced, his ser­uants [Page 7] banished. Some were ouer-whel­med with the blowe, and others were amazed at the clap, and all apprehended the danger.

The Castle of Bois de Veisaine which had beene his first Academie, became his prison, and the Court the exercise of his patience: King Henry the third gaue him his liberty, but thinking al­wayes that his aboad in Court was an honorable Captiuitie, he freed him-selfe, vnder a coullor of going a hunting, and was presently followed by them, who did expect on earth none other succours from heauen, then by the care which this Prince seemed to haue of their con­duct and protection.

Hee did with griefe re-enter into the seruitude which they doe feele which command in Ciuill warres, detesting in his soule all reuolts against the Prince, and lamenting the condition of such as in these diuisions were some-times forced to [Page 8] see, doe and endure things contrary to the euidence of reason, and the iust feeling of their consciences. This warre taught him great lessons of patience, constancie, fru­galitie and moderation. His vertue did not exempt him from the out-rages of ne­cessitie. He wanted money, his munitions failed him, his forces disbanded, his friends grew wearie, his owne hope was tired, and that which will hardly bee cre­dited in an other age, hee had some diffi­culty (hauing foure score thousand pounds starling of yearely reuenewes) to repell hunger, which doth neuer force Kings. Among the discourses which hee hath made to yong men, to teach them how to suffer, hee hath beene heard to say, That hauing on a time made a great marche, hee was forced to eate a peece of a Goose halfe broyled vpon the coales without any bread, the which was so old and tough, as it seemed to bee of that race which had watcht to saue the Capitoll. He felt a great delight to haue reduced delight [Page 9] to that point, as no crosse of fortune might alter her.

But amiddest all these wants, hee neuer wanted courage, with the which hee pro­mised himselfe to haue whatsoeuer hee wanted. A man may wish all things to his enemy but courage, for there-with hee shall depriue him-selfe of the fruits of his wishes, and force (which is incountred by valour) is alwayes in danger. The neces­sitie of his owne defence did iustifie his Armes, the which hee laide aside as soone as the fift Edict of peace had setled con­cord and obedience in the hearts and wils of the French.

Hee did nourish this new plant care­fully, and, by the conferences of Flaix, and Nerac, did pacifie the windes which did blow against her first buddes. They sought to ingage him in new confusions, but as Vlisses, who for that hee would not bee inchanted by the Syrens songs, cau­sed himselfe to bee tyed to the Mast of his [Page 10] ship, he kept himselfe close to the body of Saint Lewis tree, against forraine Inchant­ments, which did sollicite him to stirre vp new troubles. He discouered a farre off the practises that were made to renew the mi­series, & resolued with greater constancie to serue France, holding as a maxime, that there was no health in the Estate, but with the Estate, & in the sincerity of such thoughts, the death of the Duke of Alençon, the Kings onely brother, set him in the nee­rest degree vnto the Crowne.

France was then diuided into three fa­ctions, the two agreed easily against his; yet did hee offer vnto the King the seruice of his person and Armes, to make him re­couer that which a carelesse bountie in the beginning of these disorders (when as he preferred milde and fearefull remedies to them that were hardy and seuere) had wrested from him. When as this storme fell vpon him, hee had no other thoughts but to maintain France in Peace, to restore [Page 11] authoritie to the King, and liberty to him and his.

The realme was plunged into present miseries, vnder the vaine feare of that which was to come and vncertaine, the King suffering that during his life they should dispute of the succession of his Crowne. They did no more looke of him, but as the Sunne-set of his realme, all mens eyes were turned vppon two Princes, both great in courage and repu­tation. The one had a Crowne already, and the law of the Kingdome called him to the second: the other had great par­ties to get it, and to keepe it being gotten.

The heart of the one was inclined to loue the other, they were seene in one Chamber in the Lovure, they went a hun­ting, made matches at tennis, played at dice, visited the Ladyes together. The King of Nauarre carryed the Duke of Guise behinde him on horse-backe through the streetes of Paris: Hee loued [Page 12] him as his kinsman, hauing not any one neerer next to them of his name. These great shewes of friendship did not please the King, but as great hatred proceeds from great loue, and good Vineger is made of the best wine, this loue degene­rating into hatred, was the cause of great ruines, as we shall presently see.

If that age had carried desseignes wor­thy of the swords of these two, who were the greatest personages that France euer bare, and two of the greatest Captaines in the world, she might haue recouered those goodly and rich peeces of her Crowne, whereof she had beene dispossest. If their controuersie had beene but for Achilles armes, and that they had beene cast in the middest of Palestina, to be his that should win them by the point of his sword, Aiax did neuer contend for them so resolutely against Vlisses, as they would haue done together, but their thoughts reacht not so far, the one contented himselfe with that [Page 13] which was iustly due vnto his birth, and the other to purchase that which hee thought should belong vnto his valour.

The King fearing the hope of the one the deseignes 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 re­uoked, and the cheefe forces of the realme imploied against the King of Nauarre. He was assayled, during the space of foure yeares, by two royall Armies, one sent to refresh an other, and led by great Cap­taines. The God of armies gaue him the victory at the Battell of Coutras, to make it knowne that he would end in him the wonders of his workes, and lead him by the hand to the place whether his ene­mies thought he should neuer come, espe­cially after that he had beene beaten with the fulminations of the Vatican, and in a manner out of hope to passe the riuer of Loire after the rout of that great Army [Page 14] which Germany had sent to his suc­cour.

It seemed that the warre was dead: but it did but sleepe, we saw that furious tu­mult of the Barricados burst forth, the which chased the King out of Paris; and did wound his heart with an incurable vlcer. He dissembled this iniury, he pace­fied those that had put him in choller, he vsed all pollicie and arts to couer the fier of his reuenge vnder the ashes of forget­fulnes; he called an Assembly at Rouan, whereas the Cardinall of Bourbon was held for the first Prince of the bloud, and the lawfull heire of the Crowne declared vnworthy to succeed.

The more they labour to quench this royal plant, the more it sprouts, the Coun­cells for his ruine prooue his aduance­ment. The conspiracy of Iosephs brethe­ren was the bridge wherby he past to the chiefe honours of Egipt. Heauen which neuer spares his prodigies with and [Page 15] against great men, tooke away at that time with a flash of lightening the barre in the Armes of the house of Bourbon, in the Chappel of Archambaud of Bourbon, brake it in peices, and did not hurt the flowers de Luce, nor the rest of the scutchin.

The two Pillars which supported the building were beaten downe, and their fall did shake all France. The King, who thought that he had quencht the fire of warre in the bloud of these two Princes, saw it kindled more violently in euery corner of the realme, many came run­ning to haue some peices of this generall combustion. Henry of Bourbon presented himselfe to quench it, he past the riuer of Loire; And when his seruants at this pas­sage aduised him to thinke of his owne safety, and to consider with whom he had to doe. He sayd, The chance is cast, the suc­cor of France, and the seruice of my King are deerer vnto me, then mine owne life.

[Page 16] He deliuered the King from the danger wherein he was at Tours, and desiring no other quallity then the first of his ser­uants, he brought vnto his obedience Gargeau, Gien, la Charite, Pluuiers, Est­ampes, Dourdan, and fortefied his camp in such sort before Paris, as he left it to his choyse to enter by a Port or a breach, by loue or by force, within three dayes he had beene seene in his Louure and in his seat of Iustice, without that fearfull 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 beene speedily supported by that great Prince, it had fallen in peeces. He receiued her and cherished her, as if he had beene born for France, and not France for him.

He might haue come to the Crowne by succession, which was the easiest way, but God, to try his courage and to excer­cise the force of his mind, presented the most painfull and difficult vnto him, that [Page 17] of Conquest, through such continuall toyles, such apparent dangers, and such extreame afflictions, as a soule of another birth then his would not haue vndertaken so painfull a taske for a Diadem. I should make a Historie insteed of a Panegyre, if I would represent them all, they require a more free and large discourse.

Great actions may bee represented in a small table, we may see a Caesar at the pas­sage of Rubicon, and how hee defeated Petreius, Afranius and Varro in Spaine; Pompey at Pharsalia, Ptolomie in Egipt, and Pharnax in Asia, but so many words, so many discourses, euery action merits a volume. Euen so wee may speake of the actions of this King after the maner of the Geographers, who note great riuers with small lines, and strong and mighty citties, with points.

Hee begins the first actions of his raigne by the last duties of Pietie, which hee cau­seth to bee done vnto the Kings body, the [Page 18] 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 seene, which sought to disorder and ouerwhelme all things. To a true and lawfull Royalty, they did oppose one faigned and Immaginary, vn­der the name of a Prince that was priso­ner, who neither had the age, nor was of a profession necessary to vndertake the re­uenge of the Kings death, and the preser­uation of the Realme.

Although the seruants of the true King be diuided in religion, yet are they not in the fidelity which they owe him, nor in the affection of his seruice, neither yet in desire to reuenge the execrable Parricide, of their King. Their honour and that of France is the only Trophee which they promise vnto themselues of this warre.

Other nations do it not but for spoile [Page 19] and booty, but the French propound not any thing vnto themselues but the ho­nor of the Kings seruice. Xerxes with his Army of a hundred thousand fighting men would be loth to charge them, as he repented to haue taken armes against the Grecians, when as he vnderstood that all their ambition was to deserue, not crowns of gold but garlands of Oliue, and Persly at the Olympike games.

The Pope, who vntill this time had not seene cleerly into these confusions, repen­ted that hee had taken the shewes 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 fauoured, and that which before hee would haue done as a Partesan, hee now begins to doe as a Father.

The beginning of this raigne had great difficulties, amazement beeing more powerfull in the mindes of ma­ny, [Page 20] then affection was zealous in their hearts.

Hee saw him-selfe constrained to endure of them, who could not endure of them­selues, to shut his eyes at that which hee saw, and to turne away his eares from that which hee vnderstood, practising that Gratious manner cf pardoning, seeming to bee ignorant of the offences, & suffering wicked­nesse to drinke the poison which shee her selfe had compounded. What other spirit then his would haue been capable to tem­per the passions of mens mindes? What Vlisses could haue contained so many con­trary wines in one bottell? And yet in the middest of all this, his heart is firme, and his soule quiet, the more rebellion ouer­flowes, the more doth the sea of his cle­mencie swell.

Neuer Prince imbarked in a better ves­sell, but neuer did the sea rage more furi­ously to swallow him vp. Hee had need of as many eyes as Argus to watch, [Page 21] as many heads at Typheus to dispose, and as many Armes as Briareus to labour. At­tending some good occasion to imploy his whole Army, he disperst it into three Prouinces, Normandy, Champaigne, and Picardy. He assures himselfe of Pont de Larche, to cut of the Comerce by wa­ter betwixt Paris and Rouen, he makes his entry into Diepe, commends the fidelity of Caen, forceth his enemies to retier from Paris, and to come and be beaten at Arques. Paris who thought to see him a prisoner, sees him triumphing in her suburbes, and knowes that this torrent had beene stayed in one corner of the realme, to ouerflow more violently.

He chaseth rebellion out of the Prouin­ces of Dunois, Vendosme, Maine, Perche, and the better part of Normandy; he comes to Tours to refresh himselfe, and to see his councell, the soueraigne compa­nies of his Iustice, and of his Finances. From thence he forceth Mans and Alen­çon, [Page 22] and it seemed that his Canons and Regiments had wings, hauing marcht aboue a hundred and fifty leagues in lesse then two moneths. His councels passe the wisedom of those that councell him; his desseignes preuent the fore-sight of his e­nemies, his courage giues assurance to his seruants, and his happinesse in all his en­terprises makes them say, that if hee should bee on the maine Sea vpon a hurdle, hee should not perish. None but Iupiter can cast forth lightning, none but Hercules can handle his club, & it fits best with Henry to weare a Crowne of Palme and Bayes. He besie­geth Dreux, and seeing that his enemy did aduance to succour it, hee makes shew to retire, giues him time to passe the riuer to follow him, and seeing him past, and in­gaged in the plaine of Yury, he offers him battell, and wins it.

The battel of Marathon, where as 10000. Grecians defeated 100000. Persians on foote, & 10000. horse is not so renowned to the Athenians, as this victory of reason [Page 23] and right against numbers and force, is vnto the French. All his griefe was to see the fields dyed with the bloud of his sub­iects, for hee could haue wisht that the stranger alone had payed the expences of his triumph. The fruits of this victory put into his hands, in lesse then two moneths, fifteene or sixteene good townes: onely Meulan presuming rashly to resist his for­ces, suffred the pains of her rashnesse. Sens was the onely thorne 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 veines which did nourish this huge body; he sea­zed vpō the passages for victuals aboue & beneath, of the riuers of Seine, Maine, Yonne and of Oyse, by the taking of Man­te, Poissy, Melun and Montreau, and hee takes from them also the commodities of the plaine by the taking of Saint Denis.

He reduced Paris to extreame misery, but desiring rather to faile in the seueritie of [Page 24] warre, then in the mildnes of his clemen­cy, he intreats that Citty like a father which called him Tyrant, daily, and vn­derstanding the fearfull effects which ne­cessity wrought, that they did eat raw doggs publikely, and that the mothers found their children missing, he desired to releeue the despaire of this people, suc­coring the Princes and Princesses with victuals, suffering virgins, children, schol­lers and Church-men to come forth, and by this pitty augmented the obstinacy of the rest of the besieged. Shee is freed from famine to bee aflicted with new Calami­ties and desolations; she hath eaten so ma­ny doggs, as she retaines the rage and fu­ry, with the which shee fals vppon the chiefe Officers of Iustice.

The King inuites the armie of strangers to the hazard of a Battell, & presents himself aboue the village of Chelles, but they will not hazard any thing, and bound their Conquests with the ruine of Lagny: and [Page 25] the taking of Corbeil. It came into France like a Torrent, but hee forced it to returne being prest and scanted for victuals, and did let them see at Longeual, that courage prescribes a law to numbers, being con­tent to let the vanquished know, how far the honor of a victory doth extend. In this Incounter there was a troupe did ob­stinately make head against him, ingaged him in the thickest of the danger, and slew fiue or sixe if his company neere vnto him. In the end it was in his will to haue cut them all in peeces, but as soone as hee saw them humbled, he left his Pistoll, and retained the iust aduantage which he had, saying, That hee would not see them suffer harme, which were not in case to do any.

Soone after he had other meanes offred him to enter into Paris, but hee would not hearken to it, for that the execution could not be without great disorder. One of his good seruants, who hath disdained life af­ter the death of so good a maister, had [Page 26] an infallible enterprise, hauing meanes to let in by Port Bucy, (whereof they had promised him the Keyes) as many men as hee would, to fortifie the courages and re­solutions of them that were within the Citty, and who desired rather to be taken by their King with the hazard of their goods, then to be garded by the Spaniards with the losse of their liberties. This great Prince considering that it was impossible to preuent it, but in this surprise the Citty would feele the fury of the war, & that the good must suffer for the bad, hee said, that he had rather not take Paris, then to ruine it.

Chartres is besieged, and hauing endu­red the siege two months, they were more desirous to trust vnto the mercy of the assailant, then to any hope of succors. The enemy seeing that this Hercules could not bee vanquished with any earthly forces, they desire to draw lightning from heauē to consume and ruine him. Gregory the 13. the oracle of Philip, of a common father, [Page 27] becomes the head of a party, casting forth his fulminations against this Prince, the Buls were burnt at Tours & at Chalons.

The Parlaments with the like courage (as they had in former times, resisted the insolencies of Bonifaces, Pius and Iulius) make it knowne, that the remedies of fire and bloud are not fit the languishings of France: that this generous minde will not be forced, & that they must hope, that he wil one day bind the Church to cal him some-times her father, and some-times her sonne. Feare to displease the Pope, had not so much power ouer them, as the care of the Estate, & the preseruation of the liber­ties of the Frēch church. The army which came to demand the execution of the Buls was as soone disperst as imployed. At the sight of a hūdred horse of the Kings white Cornet, a 1000. Cassaks of watchet veluet, all imbrodred with gold & ciphers of keies ioyned vnto swords, dare not abandon the shadow of the walls of Verdun, and make it known that their troop consists of many [Page 28] men and good horses, but of few soldiers, & that they had to deale with men whose Armes feared not the lead of Rome.

The prosperity of his affaires did no­thing alter his minde from the desire hee had in the beginning of his raigne, for the good of a Peace; The ouertures 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 subiect irreconciliable to their Prince. The time was so close as it would not suffer the hearts of good men to bee open; it was Impiety to propound a peace, and treason to seeke it.

Hee looseth no time in the meane time, he passeth into Normandy, to fortifie his seruants and subiects by his presence: In the sight of the sunne, & in lesse then two houres hee executes a memorable enter­prise vpon Lovuiers; he causeth his coun­cell to come from Tours to Mante, [Page 29] to resolue there vpon his cheife and most important affaires, he enters into Picardy, beseegeth Noyon, which at the third vol­ley of the Canon yeelded in view of the Army, which durst not attempt to succor it, nor to hazard a Battell against a lesser number.

Hauing receiued some forces from the Queen of England he presented himselfe before Rouen, sommons it, & doth presse it to yeeld him the duty which it owes. The hope of succors makes the Inhabi­tants obstinate in their resolutions. The King turned head towards this new Ar­my, and resolued to fight with it, contra­ry to the aduice of his cheefe seruants, who seeing the disproportion of these for­ces, aduised him to passe 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 successe, That in striking his foote [Page 30] against the earth he would raise vp Legions. All his seruants which were farre of re­turned to the armie, the Duke of Parma who thought to haue an easie 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 royall and generous word Charge Charge, and to doe that which him­selfe had commanded, charging valiant­ly with his hurt into the thickest of the enemies fury, and then he made a glori­ous retreat: diuers dayes after he was in all the occasions, where as glory was ne­uer seene but in a world of dangers.

Hee beats his enemies at Bellencombe, he stripes them at Bure, and makes them to quit Yuetot with dishonour and great losse.

In the view of two Squadrons of the enemies horse, he himselfe tooke a Centinell perdu at Henry-quart-ville. [Page 31] This great Armie was as much prest with necessity, as the chiefe commanders were with sicknesse, the soundest of them both being carryed in a litter. The King ouer­takes them at Caudebeck vpon the riuer of Seine, and forceth them to seperate themselues, the one gets to Rouen, the other by the sauour of two bridges, the one at Caudebeck, and the other at Cha­ranton, recouers Chasteau Thierry, and seazeth vpon Espernay.

This voiage did confirme him in the opinion which he had at the first, as a Soueraigne Prince interessed in the Kings defence, and as a Prince of Italy enemie to the pride of Spaine, that the Kings quarrell being Iust and maintained by a good sword, he would preuaile, and that if the warre continued longer Spaine should haue more wood to heate her ouen, then corne to send to the mill. He sayd moreouer That this Prince was an Ea­gle in warre which soared into the cloudes [Page 32] when they thought to take him, and fell soden­ly vpon them which held him to be farther off.

Quilbeuf ruined that which remained, it defended a seege three weekes, and forced the assaylant to dislodge without drumme or Trompet. Espernay was recouered; eight horses put 300. to rout. Nothing stayes the force of the Kings armes but humility and piety: The vanquished haue no hope but in the conquerors mer­cy. He dismist the Prince of Anhalt with the Reisters which he brought him.

He had promised at his comming to the crowne, that he would not shew himselfe difficult to be instructed in the Religion of his predecessors. He had vanquished his enemies, it was necessary he should van­quish himselfe. That rich diamond of re­ligion, whose fire is so pure and water so cleere, did not shine with that luster vpon his Crowne, as his Predecessors had car­ryed it, for that he did not serue God after their manner. It was desired that Piety, [Page 33] which hath giuen vnto the Kings the glo­rious title of most Christian, should giue vnto him that of the eldest sonne of the Church. Hee therefore suffers himselfe to be Instructed, and beeing instructed doth acknowledge the truth, the Church doth triumph thereat, and heauen doth furnish bayes. His valour hath triumphed ouer his enemies, and his Piety did triumph ouer his conscience. Many haue had their shares in his victory against his enemies, but in that of himselfe the conquest is his owne. This miraculous worke of heauen ouer-threw new desseignes.

Hee 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. Hee caused himselfe to be anoynted and crowned in the first & most ancient Temple of Christendom, which they say was dedicated by the Dru­ydes, To the Virgin that should bring forth. [Page 34] His heart like a Lampe prepared to burne; was no sooner kindled by this diuine fire, whereof Constancie and Truth are the Vestalls, but darknesse vanished, and the pretexts fell like walls vndermined. The League, the Typhon of sedition, from whence sprong so many Serpents and Vi­pers of disloyalty was smoothered vnder the Etna of her owne presumption and pride. Those great Colosses of forraigne desseignes were beaten downe, the foun­dation of the pretext of Religion suppor­ting them no more. The warre can no more carry the title of a warre for religi­on. Paris at the first speech of this Masse, or to speake more-properly, at the very ringing of the Bell, receiues him for Ca­tholike, they runne to Saint Denis to adde the teares of their miseries to those of ioy, for a Grace which was more desired then hoped for.

Hell storming at the sauing of a soule so necessary for the glory of Heauen, [Page 35] stirres vp a wretch who vndertakes to kill him. The Tyger stayed at the shining of a glasse: This Monster seeing the zeale of Piety to shine in the eyes of this Prince, confest that hee had horror to offend the Soueraigne dignitie ordayned of GOD, among Angels and men. Rome which had cast forth her fulminations against him from the toppe of Vatican, makes bonefiers for ioy of his returne vnto the Church, and erects a Triumph to his Pietie.

The Iland of Zeilan holds not any lawfull King, but hee that the day of his Coronation carries the hereditarie orna­ment of the Crowne, a Rubie as big as a hand, and three fingers thick, for the which the great Cham of Cathay, would haue giuen a great and mighty Citty. 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.

[Page 36] Pagan Rome hath deserued great Elo­gies of all the nations of the earth, they called her the Citty of the world, a heape of triumphes and trophees, and the mother of all Citties. The Marbles and Medailes haue named her, the eternall Citty. They of Smyrna in the time of Cato: they of Per­gamo vnder Augustus: and they of A­thens vnder Adrian, haue giuen her the name of Diuine, Holy, August and Sacred. Christian Rome is called by those great lights of the East and West, the Chaire 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 Mountaine of Syon. All tytles equally famous, but the glory could not bee greater then by that of a godly Mo­ther to a great Prince, who acknowledg­ing her, was receiued by her as the eldest sonne of the Church. Shee sets these trophees on the toppe of his conquests, [Page 37] thinking that of a soule so pretious to Christendome, very profitable to the Church, and that her ground-worke could not bee beautified with a goodlyer plant.

France, which during her sleepy and insensible stupidity, had suffered her, members to be cut off by peeces, began to open her eyes which she had kept shut, for that she would not know her owne miseries, nor feele her Infirmities, she ne­glected all remedies, and now that she feeles her owne wounds, she desires to be cured: This feeling was the infalible Cri­sis of her health: hope reuiued good men, and confusion amazed the wicked. The Crow which could not say from the top of the Capitoll It goes well; may now say All will goe well. This body had yet some sound, vigorous and perfect partes, and it had good blood to restore it. Gold set in worke being cast into the fier, looseth his fashion, but not his waight. The [Page 38] ancient loyalty of the French, lost her forme in this fire of rebellion, but the sub­stance remained perfect and without ble­mish, to bee 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 sweetnesse of a truce, to make her couet the felicity of Peace. The Parlament of Paris hauing cast vppe the phleme of temporising, kindles his courage, and by a decree disperceth the Chymera's of Spain, which thought to reduce France vnto a Prouince. The most obstinate are forced to confesse, that the earth striues in vaine against the decrees of heauen; that what­soeuer had been done to keepe vnder and ruine this Prince had raised, preserued and aduanced him: that in declaring him vnworthy of the crowne, they had drawn him from the farthest bounds of France, and thinking to hold him in the waues of diuision, they had brought him to the Port [Page 39] of greatnesse. Behold in the end hee is the Hercules of Gaule, the tamer of Monsters, which France had not brought forth, but did nourish and entertaine.

Paris which had resisted his mildnesse, is surprised by force: he takes it with 4000. men. She sees her selfe taken & feels it not, neither is there any alteration but that of ioy dispersed through all the streets for so sweet a change. He enters like a King and in­treats like a father. He changeth the sword of iust reuenge, into a scepter of mild com­mand: he pardoneth euen the A sediti­ous number of leaguers within Paris. sixteene, the people adore him & kisse his feet. The Lovure receiues his Maiesty, the Palace his iustice, the temple his piety, and all orders his clemency. Hee visits the Cathedrall church of this citty to giue God thanks, who was the Author of this conquest, the founder of this authority, & the fountaine of this felicity.

Laon was a refuge for the forrain troops whom hee suffred to depart out of Paris. they tried the effects of his clemēcy, & felt [Page 40] of his valor: for hauing sustained three asaults in one day, and seeing the defeat of two mighty conuoyes, they yeelded. This prise was followed by the reduction of all Picardy. Hee beseegeth and taketh Noion, and forceth the towne and castell of Dreux. He casts the firebrand of warre vpon those who had set France on fire, and causeth Artois, the county of Bour­gondy, Piedmont and Sauoy, to feele the iust fury of his armes. He strikes euery where as soone as he threatens, He seems to be mounted vpon Pegasus, to be in all places where his presence is necessary. Be­hold he enters triumphing into Lions, and in an instant is vpon the frontier of Picardy, from thence his authority like a spirit of life disperseth it selfe throughout all the members of the body.

But it is not sufficient for him to haue made warre, if it doth not produce peace. The most royall vertue of a great Prince which entereth into a troubled estate is [Page 41] Iustice, the most mighty is valour, the greatest effects come from Armes, and the most glorious fruits of Armes from peace. Hee shewes that hee hath not made warre, but for peace, that his club, (like vnto that of Hercules) is made of an Oliue tree, and his sword dipt in Oyle. He addes vnto his Bayes a crowne of Olyue bran­ches, he giues peace to them that demand it, and doth not refuse it, but vnto those who beeing ostinate in their owne ruine contemne it. Fiue Dukes sacrifice to this royall clemencie.

The first obtaines peace for his e­state, Duke of Lorraine. beeing councelled and gouerned in this resolution by Ferdinand great Duke of Tuscany, a most wise and hap­py Prince.

The second for his party, Duke of Maienne. whereof hee is the head, and which giue him the glory of great continencie in so great libertie, and of wise command in a furious con­fusion, for that hee would neuer yeeld [Page 42] that religion should bee wronged, nor the estate ruined.

The third, Duke of Guise. who seemed to bee most in­teressed, for that in this ciuill tempest hee had lost his Father and his Vncle, giues his wrongs vnto France, and hath the honour to receiue the Kings first embra­sings, hee is content to command in that Prouince, whereas his grand-fathers, by the mothers side, had sometimes reigned, and that France should see foure yong plants spring out of that tree, which the Kings fury had ouer-throwne.

The fourth is content to leaue the trou­bles of the world, Duke of Ioyeuze. to prepare himselfe to a solitary life, where he had begun to liue.

The fift did beautifie the trophees of the Kings glory, Duke of Mercure. by the whole reduction of the goodliest Prouince in France, and sees the Hermines to reuiue at the smell of the Flower de Luce.

This great King had by his clemencie wonne these great men, whose hearts had [Page 43] neuer yeelded to weaknesse. Hee did so gouerne their humors and affections, as hee made them profitable for his seruice. M. Sceuola had wonderfully wronged Porsenna, but the constancie of him that did the offence, changed the reuenge of the offended into admiration. Hee resto­red him his sword, and Sceuola taking it with the left hand (for the other was burnt) sayd vnto him; Porsenna, Thou couldest not haue vanquished mee by feare, and now thou hast ouer-come mee by courtesie. Where-vpon hee discouered vnto him a conspiracie of three hundred Romaines, and protested that hee was not sorry that hee had not slaine so good a man. Gene­rous mindes will not bee forced nor baffe­led. Lawrell is bitter to them that bite it. There are herbes very sweete when they are gently handled, but they lose their sa­uour when they are roughly rub'd.

This Prince did neuer desire to be reuen­ged but by the iustnesse of his armes, but [Page 44] when he saw that other meanes would not preuayle. In the greatest declining of his affaires, and when as necessity did suf­fer him to seeke reuenge, either by pollicy or by force, he let them see that the gene­rosity of his courage could not yeeld vnto the profit which may grow by a base and wicked action. After the defeats of his Reisters, a gentleman came vnto him at Chastel Ialeux and told him that he had meanes to ruine the Duke of Guise and his chiefe enemies, setting fire vnto a sau­sedge being planted in a certaine place of the Palace of Guise, in Paris. To whom he answered, be gone, speake no more of it, e­uen as you measure to others so shall it be mea­sured to you againe.

The temple of clemency being open vnto great men, was not shut to the mea­nest. He doth imbrace them and doth not refuse to capitulate with simple captains, suspending for a time the greatnes of his maiesty to accomodate him-selfe to the [Page 45] vnconstancy of the world, and to shew that his hands no lesse accustomed to beare the palmes of valour then the crownes of clemency knowes how to raise vp them that humble themselues, and reforme such as goe astray. He is content to hin­der the fall of such as did shake and wauer at the first wind of sedition; experience hauing taught him that the people suffer themselues to be abused with bruits, and opinions, he doth therefore carefully ob­serue the practises and pollicies of these deceiuers.

The pleasure of liberty being recouered, defaceth the sorrow of forepassed serui­tude. All the reuolted Townes seeke the shortest way to retire themselues out of this misery, and confesse that the shortest follyes are the best. They returne to their duties, not by order of their quallities, nor the reason of example, but as they are toucht with repentance of rebellion, the which doth now seeme a dying lampe, [Page 46] that hauing nothing to feed it leaues him in suspence whether it be dead or aliue. Al his thoughts tended to the happy end of all his victories, and to encrease the pros­perity of France, when as his enemies sur­prised Amiens with Apples and nutts, and trobled him to recouer it with Canon shot making it known that there was nothing impossible nor impregnable for his courage.

Then did Europe call him the Inuinci­ble: a title which he did not purchase with his armes a crosse, nor by his Lieftenants, but with the price of his blood and the pe­rill 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 al that can be said, to iudge whether that he had deserued that glorious title of alwaies victorious, al­waies Augustus. This great King alone was worthy of the conquest of France, and France was alone worthy of the valour of [Page 47] so great a King. France is no estate of Pig­mes which may be conquered by armies of Cranes. It is neither America nor Canada, contryes in a manner not habitable by reason of the ordinary inundations, wher­as the Inhabitants are forced a part of the yeare to leaue the land and to liue in Barks and Canoes vpon the water, wheras the people are so dull and brutish as they dare not thinke themselues to be men.

It is not that miserable region of the Ic­thiophages, whose townes and houses are made of fishbones, nor that part of Numi­dia wheras they liue of herbes and water, it is the Queen of Realmes, it is the realme of Kings, the beauty of delightes, the feli­city and the force of the world, so rich, a­boundant and fruitfull 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 Gothes, Hunns, Vandales, & Sarazens; which hath ioynd [Page 48] vnto her crowne, Germany, Hungarie, Saxonie, a part of Spaine, Palestina, and the Empire of Greece; shee hath giuen lawes and Kings to other Crownes, and brought the French name in such reputa­tion, as the Christians of the East vsed not any other. Yet shee hath not the wonders which maketh other nations of the world more admired then frequented, and from whence no man comes but hee hath the priuiledge to purchase credit, as they were wont to say of those that went for Iseland; If I say shee did not nourish cruell and sa­uage beasts like vnto Affrick; If she doth not carry trees fifteene faddom about the body, as at Peru, nor doth produce cloues like the Moluques, nor cinomon as at Bantan, nutmegs as at Iauan, nor gin­ger and pepper as at Calecut, muske as at Sertuge, perfumes as in Arabia, nor Cassia and balme as in Egipt: If it be not as rich in Diamonds, as the Island at Zeilan, nor in pearles like to Var, nor in Emerauds [Page 49] like to China, nor in rubies like to Perne nor in Opalls like to India, she is mighty in men, capeable to conquer al this, If they knew the meanes as well to keepe it as to get it. Fruitfull and flourishing in men which vnderstand the true point of ho­nour, the true honour of valour, which cannot yeeld to dangers and which teach­eth them to goe 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 Queene of people and nations. Great was the glory of this Prince to haue reduced France vnder his obedience, great indeed to haue vanquished so many great courages that were armed against him. Posterity, which shal iudge of all this iustly will ascribe no lesse glory vnto him to haue forced the King of Spaine to rea­son then in former ages was giuen to [Page 50] Alexander to haue subdued the persians, Caesar the Gaulls, and Pompey the Parthi­ans. If this trueth doth not passe without amazement, It will enter without contra­diction into the mindes of those which know that they had to doe with men who were Lyons in garrisons and Hares in combats, and this Prince had in front & of euery side men who were sooner surprised with death then with feare.

The inequality of armes, and of forts prooues the difference. Caesar found so small resistance in one of his greatest de­signes, as it is no wonder if he did not write so boldly, I came, I saw, & I ouer came, for in lesse then ten yeares he conquered three hundreth nations to the Empire of Roome. Pompey in pursuing Metridates did nomber his victories by his iourneyes and the seiges by his lodgings. When as Alexander had defeated Darius in battell, he found the whole contry open, ther was not any resistance, but as nature giues at the passage of Riuers.

[Page 51] If these 3. great Captains whom I hold without comparison, but of themselues to themselues, had been fronted by our caua­lary, our regiments, our Canons, our mus­kets and our petards, their glory had not been so great and so disperst. Artilery is an Inuention so new, so terrible, and so diffe­rent from al the antient engins, as we may say that at these dayes we make warre not with Iron, as in former time, but with fire, not with violent force, but with the mode­ration of wisdom & temporising: they do not cōmit any thing to the hazard of for­tune, but that she carieth away by surprise.

The greatest armies of Europe haue marched against him, and he hath defea­ted the greatest Captaines. The death of the Earle of Egmont and the ruine of his troope did serue as a triumph of that me­morable day, whereas the God of armies gaue sentence for iustice against force, for a royalty against tyranny. Farneze a Romaine by birth, Alexander by name, [Page 52] Achilles by valour, and Vlisses in pollicie, did by two goodly retreates couer the weaknesse of his forces, and the refusall of a battell. The Earle of Montmarchiano, generall of the Popes army, who had tied the Sword vnto Saint Peters Keyes, repas­seth the mountaines, without any fruites of his voyage but repentance; Charles Earle of Mansfield knowes, 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 Foun­taine Francoise, forced the Constable of Castile to flie.

Albert Archduke of Austria, hauing suc­ceeded Ernest his brother in the generall command of the Low-countries, seeing by the glorious recouery of Amiens, that the King could not admire any thing (a­boue the Lawrell branches which did crowne his head) but the Heauens and the Sunne, that it was a folly to bee his neigh­bour and not his friend, sought his friend­ship [Page 53] with great earnestnesse. Phillip the se­cond King of Spaine, and the first moouer of all these great engines, giuing motion to all the lesser wheeles, considering that fortune had not yet raisd any one to bee victor ouer France, and that Charles the fift his Father had alwayes exhorted him to liue in peace with her, protesting that there was nothing so gallant or couragi­ous as the Nobility of France, and hold­ing it a great honor to haue had two Prin­cesses of the bloud of the Kings of France, for his grand-mother and great grand­mother; that warre against a Prince, who was giuen and cherished by God, was his ruine, and that an accord was the last an­chor of his affaires, desired to end his life and his raigne, by the assurance of a peace for his sonne, and the husbands of his two Daughters.

They that had seene the King bred vp in armes, and to command armies at foure­teen yeares of age, his first exercise in dan­gers [Page 54] and perils, that he had purchased the glory to know how to vanquish, to vse the victory, to subdue his enemies, and to par­don them being subdued, could not thinke that a Prince of that courage, of that hu­mor, and of that fortune, would thinke of peace, and quench the thirst of glory, wherewith the greatest courages are won­derfully altered; and yet he smothered the seeds of ciuill warre, and ended all for­raine warre with much glory, profit, and reputation, so as all men thought it should continue long, giuing vnto his people a happy peace, rich in all kinds of prosperities, the which restored rest vnto 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 mans body to breath with­out lights, then for an estate to liue with­out peace.

Pope Clement the eight was the Angell and the minister of this peace, desiring [Page 55] that the concord of Christian Princes might be applied to the aduantages which this common enemy drew from their di­uisions. Hee had no greater desire in his soule then to see the iniuries of Gods holy name reuenged in the whole land, and the triumph of our redemption raised, wheras infidelity & ingratitude had cast it downe. The world cannot furnish a warre more iust, a Croisado more holy, nor a victory more heroyck. The fruits of the Palmtree of Europe are bitter, they of Affrick haue no tast, they are only faire & good in Asia. All the vertues of this Prince haue assisted in the building of this publick peace, but piety hath the cheifest honor. When as the people saw that hee serued God in the religion of his father, they beleeued that the warre was not for religion, but against the state, they held them all for enemies that would not acknowledge a Prince whom the heauens by so many mira­cles had acknowledged. After the [Page 56] bond which is giuen to piety, we know not to whether of these three vertues, Iustice, valour, or clemency France is more beholding for her rest. They be all three great, all three royall, neither had they euer any worthier throne then in the heart of this Prince. All haue a share in the restauration of this estate: the one had beene the sword, the other the buckler, and the third the crowne, the one the sterne, the other the ship, and the third the port. Valour chalengeth the honour of two famous Battels which did saue the Crowne, and deliuered France from fiue forraine armies; to haue caused courage to triumph ouer nombers and right ouer force, in a hundreth combats and as many encounters, to haue clipt victories wings to the end she should not flye out of France.

Iustice hath retained many townes, many people within the bounds of their duty, whom the respect of wisdome, the [Page 57] condition of affaires the indiscretion of zeale might haue corrupted. She hath dis­tinguished the causes from the pretexts, she hath carried a light before truth in the darkenesse of these confusions, she hath fortefied mens minds and produced ex­amples both of doing well and suffering much,

Clemency hath vanquished towns that were inuincible to the force of armes and Iustice of the Kings cause, she is neuer wea­ry of pardoning, the more you draw of this fountaine, the fuller it is, and the swee­ter her water. She hath wisely mingled the victors with the vanquished, She hath gi­uen life to the guilty, to augment the nom­ber which doe not liue but by the glory of his bounty. It is the Altar of Delos, which Greece called holy, for that it neuer had been gored with any sacrifise. That Prince which is desirous to saue much, must par­don much. His birth made him great, his for­tune greater and his clemency greatest of all. If [Page 58] he had not pardoned so many rebels, hee had not commanded ouer so many sub­iects: when his Iustice did represent vnto him, that examples of punishments were necessary, his clemencie answered, that the forrests of France would not furnish gibets, if Hee should beleeue her. Some one besought him to giue him leaue to carry the cannon against some that held his house, hee de­manded of him, What hee would do when he had forced them▪ his choller made him answer, that hee would hang them all. Wherevppon the King sent him away with this milde reply, I haue no Canon to that vse.

You powerfull and warlike nations of the world draw your Princes from their graues, make them to liue againe with their trophees and triumphes, you shall not see any which shall march equall in clemencie to ours. Where shall you finde examples of this greatnesse of courage? Paris is the perpetuall theater of this [Page 59] clemencie. Hee might haue taken Paris, and the feare to loose it, makes him to neglect the taking.

Hee besiegeth Paris, and supplies the besieged with victualls. Hee giues li­berty to those that desire to flye from the miseries of the siege. Hee takes Paris, and makes the victors condi­tion in shew no better then the vanqui­shed, his enemies goe forth with their armes, beeing greeued to bee bound to him for their liues, whose death they had so often desired. They see him in Paris like a priuate Gentleman which visits his friends.

Spaine and Italy could not beleeue that hee could trust him-selfe in a Towne which had so much offended him, and hold it for a miracle, that hee had no feeling of these offences. There is nothing so corrosiue that can alter the golde of his bountie. Whereof [Page 60] we shall see so many proofes in his Histo­rie, as they that haue not seene them will hardly beleeue them.

All haue had need of the force of his clemencie, many haue serued as a Tro­phee to the power of his Armes, few haue felt the seuerity of his Iustice, and many haue found more profit to haue been van­quished by his Armes, then to haue resi­sted. This truth hath no need to bee set forth with other coulours then her owne. It is an oftentation of ignorance, rather then of iudgment, to seeke reasons to prooue a thing that is knowne to all the world. A lawfull power hath no need of the coulours of falsehood, to get beliefe that shee is alwayes moderate in her pro­sperities, and that her victories are neither cruell nor bloudy. Tyranie, the most cru­ell of sauage beasts, delights in flatterie, which is the worst of domestick and tame creatures.

Hee was both valiant and happy. Hee [Page 61] neuer lead men to danger, but he brought them back to glory. Occasions haue of­ten forced him to doe the duties of a reso­lute souldier, hauing performed that of a great Captaine. Hee hath alwayes loued Achilles lawnce better then Paris harpe. Neuer Prince hath runne into greater dangers, encountered more glory, nor bet­ter vsed his victories. His valour was not without iudgment, nor his designes with­out conduct. Minerua hath alwayes caried a Torch before this Vlisses. As hee hath had iustice in his armes, wisdome in his coun­cels, vigillance, deligence, and fidelity in executions, sufferance in paine, and pati­ence in occasions, so his victories haue al­waies beene without cruelty or insolency. These three vertues haue restored France vnto her King, and the French vnto them-selues, the children are content with the follyes of their fathers, and de­sire not to succeed them. From the ef­fects of rebellion, they draw the fruites [Page 62] of obedience, they suck hony out of the stone and oyle out of the flint. They that were hottest in sedition are become most zealous in duty, and it seemes that famous sorceresse hath made them more beauti­full and more cleere then before. If the se­uerity of his Iustice would haue vsed his rigor, it had pulld vp many goodly plants the which being manured with clemency haue produced many excellent and ne­cessary fruits of obedience, seruice and merit.

Al the iniuries of France were repaired, only one remained, the iust fealing wher­of binds these three powerfull vertues to seeke reueuge, Iustice declares warre, Va­lour makes it, and Clemency ends it. The lightening which should bee feared of those which are not tucht with it, is rea­dy to fall. Iustice shewes the lightenings a farre off, Valour causeth the thunder to be felt, and Clemency repayres the ruines, in a manner, as soone as they [Page 63] are made. The King nombers his iour­neys as he passeth by so many townes which he takes. His Canons ecchoing in the Alpes amazeth all Italy. The Em­bassadors of those Princes and common­wealths finding it lodged in places, wheras the Snow takes from their eyes the formes of houses, and the compasse of the hori­zon, were so amazed as they thought that inchantment, 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 Acro-corinth, humbles it selfe: and Charles Emanuel duke of Sauoy, who sought by his assurance to amaze or diuert the mischeefe which did threaten him, submits himselfe wisely vn­to reason. Peace is confirmed on all sides, valour giues vnto France the glorious ti­tle of mighty Empire, Iustice makes it the Empire of felicities, and Clemencie aug­ments the felicities of this Empire.

[Page 64] 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 Sauiour, her Esculapius, her Restorer. But shee cannot belieue that her felicities are perfect, nor her safety assured, if her Prince do not iustly carry the name of fa­ther of a Daulphin, as she doth acknow­ledge him father of the people. It is a great contentment for a King when as his sub­iects account his sterillity among the publike miseries, and that his infirmities ingender not hopes but feares.

The seale which the eternall prouidence adds to her felicity was the marriage of this great Prince, with her who may bee sayd to bee the only flower of Queenes, as Florence which hath brought her forth is the flower of all the Citties of Italy. If the law of religion were as powerfull as that of duty, they should appoynt sacrifi­ces [Page 65] vnto her, as Rome did to the nursse of her two founders, for shee is mother to three Princes, the liuely and firme pillers of this estate, for whose liues France is more bound to heauen, then it should bee for the death of all her enemies.

Thus the great God who is the author of vnion and concord, did shew that this peace was pleasing vnto 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 kingdomes, so are Queenes the comforts of Kings. Hee who preferred wisdome before all other things that were offered vnto him from aboue, saith, that such an incounter is the gift of God, and iust recompence of me­rits, and hee compares it to the Sunne ri­sing, to a Lampe before the Altar, to a peece of gold, to a foundation vppon a Rock.

As he had purchased the name of most [Page 66] victorious in actions of warre, so hee got that of most great in affaires of peace. He had caused himselfe to bee feared and ad­mired in one season, hee maketh him­selfe to bee redoubted and beloued in an­other.

Vpon the height of this great tranquilitie, hee considers the winds and clowds that may trouble it. And as they that are neere to mount Athos see the Sunne sooner then others, hee discouers with the first how designes rise, and how the affaires of the world are managed. His eyes are the stars which watch while the people rest. He hath no need to haue a Page say vnto him, like vnto the King of Persia, Rise Sir, and take order for your affaires.

Hee watcheth not simply as a King, but like a Pastor, Who hath more care of his flock then of himselfe. A royalty hath so long and troublesome watchings as Da­uid in his distempers desired not the wings of an Eagle to flye high, but of Doues to [Page 67] rest him-selfe, for that they flie lowe neere vnto the bankes, not of seas, whereas the spirit is alwayes in paine, hauing to deale in two such inconstant things, wa­ter and winde; but of those riuers where­as they neither lose bottom nor banck, where-as the strange sauour of the wa­ter doth not offend their stomackes, nor the feare of danger, nor distrust least the calme should bee turned vnto a storme.

His watches makes vs to sleepe in safety, breathing the sweete ayre of con­cord and felicity, so as France were no more bound to those which were the founders of theyr greatnesse, then to this Prince which was the setler of their rest.

They should seeme very ignorant, or malicious, that should not acknow­ledge the great vigilancie in the concord which was sometime vnknowne vnto the French, by that furious diuision of minds, [Page 68] which made France like vnto that Image of that vnfortunate Laococon, the which is seene in one of his royall houses, and doth represent the extreame agonies of his fathers death whom the serpents had slain, of the childs paines whom he had stung, and of his feare of another whom he had foulded in his tayle. He knew well what it was to feare, to suffer, and to dye at one in­stant by the violent cruelties and cruell violence of diuision, which in the end makes those places where she inhabits, like vnto those wheras poyson growes, so naked and bare of all fruit, as euen the bar­ren dust cannot remayne there.

The Gods of the antients are represented with a harpe 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 Musicke was their profession, but the accord and harmoniacal proportion of estates and of people is their chiefest duty that command and raigne, and that [Page 69] Prince may be compared vnto the Gods who hold mens minds in concord.

Hee can order and dispose of things ac­cording to seasons, his remedies are not contrary to time. A good temper makes all difficulties easie, and wee may say that he hath in his disposition those two fabu­lous tunnes, out of one of the which goeth out the clowds which melt into waters, and from the other the windes which makes the raine to cease. The Panther af­ter a continued raine doth not cast forth so sweete a perfume, as this peace doth seeme sweet after a great inundation of bloud and teares; And to the end this first bud, which did but shew it selfe should not be withered with the winds of discon­tent, which were not yet pacified, and that priuate murmurings should not end with generall complaints, hee gaue order to re­paire all things that were needfull, and to cut vp the rootes that might breed troble, and aboue all to make him serue in peace

[Page 70] The praise, which is giuen a Prince for his Religion and piety seems superfluous, for there is not any one but should haue it in perfection. To seperate religion from a princes hart were to draw a flower from the stock, the branch from the body: one cannot liue without the other. Hee cannot haue so little Irrelligion but he hath enough to doe much mischeefe, and the least errors that he commits are neuer small. The zeale of Religion, which serues for a pretext in the deseignes of great men, is the chiefe instrument which doth mooue the wills of the meaner sort, who cannot endure to be forced in their conscience.

It is a folly in princes to thinke to raigne ouer men and will not suffer God to raigne ouer 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 raigne vnder [Page 71] the commandements of God, and the law of God must raign ouer the people. While their King had care of the seruice of God, they were alwaies well serued. Whiles the Ark appeared in the head of the army, and the Army honoured the Arke, the people of God passed no day without triumph. The harmony is admirable betwxit the Church and the State, Moises prayes for Iosua, Iosua fights for Moises.

Without the zeale of Gods seruice Con­stantine had not merited that glorious sur­name which the Calender of the Church of Constantinople giues him, of Apostle a­mong Kings, of equall to Apostle, and other which the marble monuments haue pre­serued for him, of founder of the publique peace and defender of Religion, and of the faith. Without this zeale the two Theodoses should not be held the two firme pillars of Christendome, our Kings should not be called most Christian. Rauenna had not preserued in one of her [Page 72] towers this goodly inscription: Pipin the godly, was the first which opened the Paxe to this great Church.

This Diamond of Pietie is so goodly in the heart of this Prince, as it hath no need of any foile to set it forth. Dotage and su­perstition are displeasing, and some-times he laments the simplicity of those which are abused, and the couetousnesse of such as doe suffer it, and for all this he doth not offer to lay his hand to the censor, or to shake the Arke, contenting himself (with­out wronging the piety of his fathers) to keepe a iust measure in the harmonie of conscience; The greatest and most con­tinued toyle of all others, for he can neuer be so iust, nor so equall, but some mall­content will murmure. Hee must set di­uers instruments of prouidence to worke, to distinguish the zealous, he must know the interest of those which make vse of the Kings authoritie to offend piety, and of those which make a shew of piety to [Page 73] offend the Kings authority, But he neuer giues eare to counsells nor to remedies which he knowes to be more dangerous then the mischeife, and hauing learned that faith must be manured by doctrine and not by armes, by the fire of Chari­tie and not by the steele of might He leaues all the glory of the triumph of armes to heauen, and is content to see the combats for religion changed into dispu­tations, the battells into conferences, the Canons into tongues, and the swords into pennes. Mens minds grow more tame and giue eare one to another: they which had gone astray for company are reclaimed by example. Euery one thinks of his own pack. And parradise is open for all men, get it who can.

The ministers of Religion, beeing alow­ed by the Kings Edict, labour to gett ground: The Prelats of the Catholicke Church hauing long relied vppon the continuance of their possession seeke out [Page 74] 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 vnto Caesar that which is Caesars, and vnto God that which is Gods, euery man renders an accompt of his consci­ence vnto GOD, and his duty vnto his King.

Duties are performed without confusi­on, and there is not any one but knowes, that whatsoeuer binds them to the seruice of God, exceedeth all other bonds both naturall and ciuill. God before all, and all af­ter the King, where there is question of Gods honor, you must tread all humane respects vnder foot; Therein the children are strangers, and the fathers vnknowne. The fathers nourish their children, not with their bread, but that of God, and God hath redeemed them, not with his bloud, but that of his sonne. Where there is que­stion of the Princes health, the life of those [Page 75] from whom we hold ours, or which hold­eth from vs, should not be more deere vn­to vs.

An estate or common-wealth may fitly be compared to a great family, the Prince is the Father ordeined by God, but with more authority ouer his subiects then the father hath ouer his children, and duty is not more strictly commanded and re­commended to children and seruants to­wards the father of a family, then to sub­iects towards their King. This benefit of concord in matters so difficult to recon­cile, bound the King to praise God, and the realme to thanke the King, and to giue him the glorious name of Chase­mischiefe, which Greece hath giuen to Hercules, as to the author of their pub­licke safeties. Princes cannot doe more for their people, there is no benefit that doth equall this, and nothing doth so much augment their affection towards their Princes, as the remembrance [Page 76] of their benefits. God is worshipped and serued by men, for the great good and be­nefit they receiue daily, and the thankes that they yeeld vnto him, are new de­mands.

That great and necessary temper which the King brings to the preseruation of the publick concord, is not generally recei­ued for a certaine proofe of his piety, they will haue it more manifest. Slander, who hath much toung, and little fore-head, who is not pleased but in licking vlcers, hath beene so impudent as to referre the most cleare and sincere proofes of his pi­etie to hypocrisie, and to say that his mouth like vnto Annius Satire, did blow both cold and whote. His enemies not able to beleeue, but that this vessell did still re­taine the sauour with which it had beene seasoned, said, that if his conuersion had beene true, it had produced the same ef­fects which they had seene in those great Princes, who had declared themselues ir­reconciliable [Page 77] enemies to those whom they held to bee forsaken of the true reli­gion, not allowing temples nor altars to the subiects, beeing impossible that truth should agree with lyes, that Iosua could haue intelligence with Achan, Sampson with the Philistines, Dauid with Goliah, A­sa with the Idolaters, Constantine with Arri­us, Theodosius with Nestorius, Martian with Apolinaris, and Eutiches; Saint Lewis with the Albigeois, and where the Arke is, Da­gon must needs giue place.

Happy for thee, poore France, that these reasons which are not good at all seasons, nor in all countries, are no more whispered in thine eares; that these in­humaine councels which haue made thee loose so much sence, and so much bloud, are now banished from the thoughts of thy Princes. Councels of Empiricks and Montebancks, no Christi­an councels, and much contrary to the eternall wisdome which seperateth the [Page 78] good grane from the bad vntill the har­uest.

If thou diddest beleeue them, thou must open the wound which the soue­raigne balme of this concord had cured, and shouldest execute vpon thine owne children, who had so well serued in thy restauration and liberty, the threate of Cre­sus against the Lamsachnes, to roote them out like vnto pine-trees, which being once cut doe neuer put forth againe. As the Pi­ety of this Prince is slandered by strangers euen so many of the religion, from whom he had seperated himself, did beleeue that the necessity of his affaires, hauing forced him to this change, his heart had not con­sented vnto it but only in shew. A great spirit among them seeing where Chastell had hurt him, spake thus boldly vnto him, Sir, for that you haue left vs with the mouth only, God hath hurt you but on the lippe.

But both friends and enemies were forced [Page 79] to change this discourse, when as hee would haue the honor of Fountainbleau remaine to the Catholicke Church, when as they saw him presse with such earnestnesse the Duchesse of Barre his si­ster to bee instructed; when as hee had restored the masse in three hundred pla­ces from whence it had beene banished; when as so often, in so many discourses hee blamed the Intention of the first authors of these nouelties: saying they had done like vnto him that to clense his fathers house setts fire of it to haue it done the more speedily.

Euery man knowes how he did com­fort those, wcich had any thought to reduce themselues. When he saw them wauer in the contrary opinions and that it seemed they would be instructed in that which they would not willingly beleeue, he added these reasons which were al­waies most powerfull. Hee told them that it is great presumption in children [Page 80] to know more then their mother, obsti­nacie not to bee mooued at the secret mo­tions of the spirit, which breaketh and consumes presumption, reduceth vanity into powder, and mocks at the wisdome of the wise. Hee hath beene often heard say, that hee would haue lost an arme, that they which were in error, had acknowledged the truth; but that faith was a gift of GOD, where vnto hee called all, but did not enforce any.

Great is the bounty of God, who vouch­safeth to seeke man, great is the rashnesse of man, who causeth God to seeke him, and great is his felicity if he will be found. Hee therefore exhorteth the Bishops and Doctors, to intreate these sick men with gentle and easie remedies, and that the heate of passion should yeeld to wisdome and mildenesse. That royall speech came out of his mouth, they must bee tamed, as they say Hercules did a certaine Gyant, which is (as they of the religion reproch it [Page 81] vnto me) embracing them he should smo­ther them. This piety had extended her branches beyond the seas. The Christi­ans which are in the East confesse that his respect had preserued many Churches, and that the markes of our redemption remaine still in despight of the rage and enuy of the Iewes, who vanted that they had obtained the destruction therof from the Emperour of the Turkes. So many new houses of religion, of doctrine, and of piety, shew with what zeale the heart of this Prince was enflamed, and that they may say of him as of Theodosius, that he had no lesse care of the affaires of the church then of his owne. But this is not enough, Pope Clement the 8. doth not thinke that the church doth enioy the full fruits of the peace which he had procured, vnlesse the Iesuits might returne 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 [Page 82] defended them against the reasons of the first seate of his iustice, against the teares of his eldest daughter the Vniuersity of Paris. And although the fruits of the Olyue-tree come late, yet their liquor is good and holsome. Euen so as this grace had beene long attended and pursued, nine yeares, it was no lesse sweet vnto them that receiued it. It was publish­ed throughout all the world, thanks came from all parts, They of Peru, and Cho­chin, Iapan, Goa and China, added presents of some singularities of the Con­try. It was followed with the ruine of the Pyramide, with greatest effects of loue and magnificence. He gaue them his house of La Fleshe with the garden. I haue obser­ued the pleasure which he tooke in spea­king of that action and what content he receiued when as a great Cardinall tould him that by this restoring his maiesty had gotten two thousand learned pennes for his seruice and perpetuall fame: [Page 83] When as they represented vnto him the Catalogue of Colledges, & the thanks of three prouinces of France, Hee vsed these words vnto them, which should serue as an Epigraphè vpon all their houses, assu­rance followes confidence, I trust in you, as­sure your selues of Me, with these papers I receiue the hearts of all your company, and with the effects I will witnesse mine vnto you. I haue alwaies sayd that they which feare and loue God well, cannot but doe well, and are alwaies most faith­full to their Prince. We are now better in­formed, I did hold you to be otherwise then you are, and you haue found me o­ther then you held me, I would it had beene sooner, but there is means to re­compence that is past: loue Me, and I will loue you, But the Iesuits do not a­lone enioy this sweet light of this fauour; merit calleth other companies where­as they finde great and worthy obiects of this Princes grace who applieth not [Page 84] there spirits but to the glory of God, and the publick good, worthy to enioy digni­ties, for that they had no desire to obteine them, capable to execute their charges, for that they feare not to lose them, and are content rather to deserue them then to pursue them. Among them he hath found great seruants for God and his Church, and the choyce which hee hath made of their merit, hath giuen glory to his iudg­ment. The Bishops and Pastors which he had chosen are Timothes in their houses, Chrysostomes in their pulpits, and Augustines in disputation. Three Cardinals, made by his hand, haue beene found so accom­plisht in all vertues, as the conclaue had not sought any other to fill the first chaire of the Church, if the scruple of the begin­ning had not staid it.

The estate of piety and religion beeing setled in his estate, nothing wauers in the policie but hee doth assure it, nothing stumbles but hee raiseth it vp againe, and [Page 85] although hee liues in the very center, yet if there bee any motion vppon the extre­mities, his hand is there as soone as his thoughts. The sweetnesse of rest, the plea­sures of peace, are not let to great voyages in the most difficult seasons of the yeare. Sedition begins to breake out in Poytou, he disperceth it; the affaires of Norman­dy haue need of his presence, he goes the­ther and giues order for the gouernment of Cane; there is a diuision betwixt the towne and citizens of Metz, but it vanisht at the first beames of his eyes. His seruice is disturbd in some places of Gyenne, but at the first newes of his comming, euery one doth sacrifice to his obedience. Sedan hath the honor to make him arme power­fully, & they content receiue him victori­ously, and yet the victory brought them no other discommodity, but a forced obedience.

In this great prosperity of his affaires, hee yeelds the like to those which haue [Page 86] releiued and assisted him in aduersity, and which haue serued and followed him in his greatest crosses. All Europe doth ho­nor him, as the first ornament of all that which hee hath at any time produc'd of great and famous in soueraigne 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 auoide, and salute him with this glo­rious title, of Arbitrator of Christendom, and protector of their quiet.

If the general good had not touch'd him neerer then his owne perticuler, and if he had not had a liuely feeling in his soule of the ruines which Christendome suffered by the diuisiō of hir Princes, he had made his profit of the miseries of his neighbors. Hee had entertained the hatred betwixt Spaine and England, whereof the rootes were to deep. He had not refused the com­mand of the Low-countries vnder the [Page 87] name of Protector. He had done his busi­nesse beyond the Alpes during the war of Ferrara, hee had past after the taking of Montmelian, and had disputed the rights of the houses of Orleance and Anjou.

Pope Clement the eight considering all this, said, that the holy Sea was no lesse bound vnto this Prince, for that hee had retired his army from the frontires of Ita­ly, then it had bin of former times to Char­lemaine, in freeing them from the oppressi­on of the Lombards. The 2. pillers which supported her quiet, were shaken in the beginning of the Popedome of Paul the 5. Discord laboured to ouer-throw, and their ruine was at hand. Sicile by an earthquake was sometime seperated from Apulia, and Spaine from Affrick, it was to bee feared that Italy by this ciuill diuision would bee pulled from the vnion of the Church. It seemed that the Pope was come to Ferrara to giue the first blow, and that the Veneti­ans stood ready with their Pikes charged.

[Page 88] That great GOD which descending to the earth brought peace with him, and re­turning to heauen recommended it to his Apostles, would not that the Pope should remaine long in the thoughts of warre, nor that hauing 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 ingage themselues in doubtfull resolutions fit for such as are in some hard and desperate condition, which suffer themselues to fall into the fire after that they haue of long auoyded the smoke. He would that the King should be the author of this peace, and the Arbitrator of the controuersy, he made it knowne that he dealt not in any thing but the euent was happy, represen­ting to the one & the other that the course they tooke to repayre their interest by armes, was full of danger and scandall. The dispute was betweene the father and [Page 89] the children, and there could be noe such bitternesse betwixt persons so neere allied but it might be mollified.

Loue ingaged their hearts one to another. the father liues more in his children then in himselfe. As the thing known is in him that knoweth it, so contrariwise he that loues is wholly in it that it loues. As soone as he had made these spirits apprehend the ruines and desolations which this dis­cord should bring to christendome, they disrobd themselues freely of their interest, and gaue them to the wise counsell of this Prince.

If the Netherlands, after they had endu­red the fury and violence of warre fiftie yeares, doe now tast of the sweetnes of peace, they are bound to him. No man but he could gouerne those vlcerd spirits hauing so wisely foreseene and attended the times that the sore should be ripe and ready to open and to cure.

The powerfull and warlike Nation [Page 90] of the Suisses, which hath preserued the antient discipline of armes, who purcha­sed their liberty by nine battels, and main­tained is at the charges of the Princes of Christendome who giue them siluer to haue their friendship, haue alwaies belee­ued that the aliance 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 diuision which be­ganne to grow haue beene supprest, and fence the renuing of ancient treaties those people haue thought that they lost all their thoughts, wordes and deseignes if they did not employ them to praise the vertue and fortune of this great Prince.

Hee maintayned his estate in peace, he did not suffer the flower to wither before it brought forth the expected fruites.

He had a care to keepe that Oliue-branch, [Page 91] purchased with the price of his bloud, hazard of his life, aud the losse of the goodliest and most flourishing yeares of his age, alwaies greene, He yeelds li­berty, concord, abundance and felicity to the French whereof ciuill diuision had depriued them, and representing vnto himselfe the stormes and tempest which did aflict Moscouy, Swedland, Poland & Persia, and the clouds which he did fore­see would fall vpon other prouinces, he had beene seene to lift vp his eyes to hea­uen, whether he sent his best thoughts to acknowledge the prosperities which he had receiued, and turning towards his good seruants, he spake these words, God be thanked we haue beene as they are, vpon the stage, but now we are spectators and courteous hearers. An inseperable acknowledge­ment in his soule, and an ordinary prayse in his mouth.

He referrs all the conquest and restau­ration of France to the glory & vertue of God. He must haue a soule wel setled, in al [Page 92] her functions, and well composd, that doth not flatter himselfe in these encoun­ters. All great Captaines, speaking of their exployts, grace them either with their va­lour or with their wisdome, it is a wonder to see them giue a greater share to fortune then to their owne iudgments, or confesse that they are more bound to the fauors of heauen, then to earthly powers. Onely Moyses was so temperate and modest as he neuer vaunted of that which he did. The greatest armies of the world compared vnto his, are but troopes of Carbines, for he commanded ouer a million and eight hundreth thousand soules, whereof there were two and twenty thousand Leuits, and sixe hundreth, three thousand, fiue hundreth and fifty fighting men. It is a goodly sight in the historie of the Iewes, to behold these twelue Tribes put into foure battallions towards the foure cor­ners of the world, vnder foure Colonells, and foure Standards, whereof the first [Page 93] being greene, had for a deuice a Lyon; the second redde, with a mans head; the third yealow with a Bull, and the fourth white and redde with an Eagle. Hee makes no accompt of all this, but referres his victo­ries to the inuincible arme of the God of battels.

The remembrance of the graces which this Prince hath receiued from heauen, is like vnto a pure Christall glasse, which sends back the portraite vnto his begin­ning, but hee hath often beene heard to speake these Royall words; When I was borne, there were a thousand other soules more borne, what haue I done vnto God to be more then they? It is his meere grace and mercy, which doth often binde mee more vnto his iu­stice, for the faults of great men are neuer small. By the singular prouidence of the great God hee hath brought France to a more happy estate then shee her selfe durst hope for, whereas hauing scarce either pulse or spirit, after the death of the [Page 94] last King, shee cast her selfe into his armes. Hee had beene an Alexander in warre for her, dangers haue beene his ex­ercises, toyles his delights, afflictions his pleasures. He hath maintained his affaires by courage and resolution, hee hath vn­folded the gordian knot of ciuill confusi­on: hee hath forced all his enemies to turne their backs, and their faces to flight. His valour hath appeared in most de­sperate occasions, which could neuer amaze his iudgement, nor shake his cou­rage. Hee ledde his seruants so safely and happily in dangers, as he might say vnto them as Pericles said vnto the Athenians, If no man but I lead you to death, you shall bee immortall.

Hee hath performed an infinite num­ber of great and heroyck exploits with such diligence, as they that consider the combate and encounter of his Army, holds that it neuer stood still, and they that numbred the sieges it made, beleeued [Page 95] that it did alwayes Campe. In the end hee bound all his subiects to praise God, to see him seated in the royall throne of his fathers: Hee had made it stately in peace. In the beginning he found it all of brick, but hee built it all of Marble. Hee adorned it with goodly workes, whose beautie is not yet vnprofitable, like to the Pyramides of Egipt, for besides the glory which did redound to the magnificence of this estate, it brings great commodities to Artes, manufactures, comerce and voyages, they ease the needy, employ idlenesse, and make her no lesse bound vnto him, hauing restored their good orders, then Thebes to Pelopidas, and Athens to Thrasibulus, who had giuen them libertie.

Pollicie which was vnknowne whilst that right was not seene but through the smoake of Harquebuses, and that France had as many Kings as Gouernors, now she discouers the iniuries which are [Page 96] done vnro the Law with the oppression of the poore people, she will not suffer the feeble to bee ouer laden with the burdens which the stronger haue cast vpon them; that inequality shall not produce confu­sion, nor confusion mutenie, and that what hath escaped by the fury of armes shal not remain abandoned to the violēce of Iniustice, So as order hauing restored good bloud into the veines, and giuen spi­rit to the heart of France, she doth enioy happily the euerlasting mines of corne, wine, salt, cloth and wooll, for the which Peru payes for a tribute the halfe of that which is sent into Spaine; for of eight mil­lions foure come into France, whervpon some one praising Spayne for that there was only Pistols and Ryalls to bee seene, and no other coyne beeing currant; The King answered in these termes, Those coines in those Countries are markes of aboundance, out of their country they are markes of neces­sirie. They come to vs, and we goe not to them, [Page 97] they doe not giue them to vs they owe them as to their creditors. To make the felicity of France absolute, aud to make it so strong, and powerfull as after it shall seeme an oke, which to braue the winds hath as many branches without as rootes within, there is no frontier but sees her places in safety, no Arcenal but is full of armes and Canons, and no garrison but is content with his entertainment. He makes a tem­ple of Saturne of the Bastile to preserue his treasure and to defend him from the vio­lence of necessity, the which hath often represented vnto him how pittifull that Princes estate is which is surprised and hath no meanes to resist, He acquitts his debts, payes his pensions, furnisheth his charges, and disingageth the demeanes of his crowne▪ His liberality dispenseth so iustly the graces, which to haue them con­tinue long he poureth forth sparingly. He gaue by reason, not by ostentation, & neuer did vertue loose her time in her pur­sute, [Page 98] if first shee lost not patience.

All things are restrained within the bounds of duty, the magistrates haue their eyes open, so as nothing can passe vnpu­nished, and the mischiefe perisheth with the author. The first examples proffit, the publike impunity draweth on offences wheras punishment smothers them. The blowes that fall vpon the authors amaze others. Phallaris did one act of Iustice shutting him into the Bull of brasse that had inuented it.

Their are seditions whose beginning cannot be discouered, and those are most dangerous, resembling bushes which grow without sowing or planting; one branch ioynes to another, a thorne fastens to a bramble by such a thick coniuncti­on as no man can put to his hand without harme, and if he set fier to it, it is able to burne a whole forrest, and yet no man knowes whence the fier comes. That eye which watcheth ouer Scepters sees and foresees it. He suffers not bad wordes to [Page 99] haue any aliance with murmerings, nor false bruits with rash iudgements of pub­licke actions and enterprises, and that the subiects shall not seeke to hold any other in the estate then that of obedience.

The liberall sciences and professions durst not in the beginning promise vnto themselues any great reliefe from a Prince who in his youth had no other accademie then ciuil warre, which opening the tem­ple of Ianus doth alwaies shut that of the muses▪ learned men spake plainly that they should not attend of him neither the honors nor the prayses which Plato receiued of Dennis, Possidonius of Pompey, Frontonius of Marke Anthony, Arsenius of Theodosius, nor Ausonius of Gracian, and they thought that the work-men could not be esteemed or cherrished but of such that loued the workes. But as the fier and lightening comes out of the clouds that are moist and soft; the most ar­dent fauors somtimes comes from wills [Page 100] that seeme cold, for this Prince whom they held a Marius, shewed himselfe a Cae­sar to all that professed learning. The ex­ercises that flourished in the chiefe Citties of this Realme, the new buildings, and the new chaires adorned the Vniuersities of France; the honors, dignities, pensions, and preferments which hee had giuen in fauor of learning, are certaine proofes of his affections. And if our age doth pro­duce Virgils, hee will be their Augustus, if Aristotles their Alexander; if Polibius their Scipio; if Alcuinus their Charlemaine; for he drawes from among the common sort, those which haue more excellent quali­ties aboue the rest. Hee holds that it con­cernes a Prince in honour and dutie to yeeld vnto peace all the liberties and commendable exercises which war hath taken from her.

The Romans did sometime place the Image of Hercules neere vnto the Muses, and the Greekes gaue him the name of [Page 101] Musagete, to shew that the sciences haue need of the force of Princes for their qui­et, and Princes the fauour of the Sciences for their reputation. All that haue know­ledge enter not into the Temple of his bounty, if they doe not produce singular proofes of their knowledge; Hee will know them, trye them, and prooue them, whether their heads bee as well made as well fild. Good God! what a cleernesse of iudgment is this knowledge? Mettall is not better knowne by the sound, then hee doth iudge of mens spirits by their words. Nothing can bee held so couert & so close but he perceth into it. He maketh no great accompt of those which haue but a super­ficiall shew of sufficiencie, & are like vnto small wines which will not keepe. From these iudgments I haue learned this good­ly doctine. For as small springs are empti­ed if they be often drawne, euen so spirits which haue shallow foundations; Silence is good in them to make them seeme wise, [Page 102] distrust to appeare aduised, and reprehen­sion to seeme iudicious. Hee doth not re­gard the vaine and fruitlesse curiosities which extract the braine, and learne that which they must forget when they haue learned it, The study of vaine things is a toilesome idlenesse, and a painfull folly. The spirits beeing once stroken with this disease, are cured very late, they spend whole nights to finde how many knots were in Hercules club, and of what coulor Achilles beard was, and the end of their cu­riosity is alwayes ignorance. Hee doth much commend those men which can speake of all things, and are like vnto li­uing libraries, whereas they finde what­soeuer they desire. Hee holds that do­ctrine perfect and solide, which doth not passe ouer difficulties slightly, but pier­ceth into them, and resolues them, and especially that which honoreth the pub­lick and profiteth the priuate.

A maker of Anagrames presenting some thing vnto him vpon his name, & telling [Page 103] him that he was very poore; I beleeue it, an­swered the King, for they that vse this trade cannot grow very rich. Hee was attentiue to the discourses that were made in his pre­sence, but hee could not indure ignorant men to speake, when as learned men were silent, nor that they should hold their pla­ces. Athens could not endure Pothinus to play his comedies vpon the theater wher­as Euripides had repeated his tragedies.

It seemeth that many good and profitable inuentions haue bin vnknowne in former ages, to appeare vnder his raigne, and to make nature iealous of art. And although that imposture & falshood disguise them­selues often with the habit of sufficiencie, hee doth not contemne the Inuentors, hee heares them willingly, remembring Alex­anders repentāce, who would not heare an vnknown person, which promised to giue him news within six daies from places frō the which hee did not receiue any in sixe weeks, & foūd him not when he had most need.

[Page 104] But can we cast our eyes vpon al his great and royall actions, and not admire that great modesty and temper which doth beautifie them, which are not easily seene in great powers and authorities, which breeds a maiesty confirmed by time, pros­perity and reputation? Princes which haue made their fortune, who haue raig­ned long and haue all according to their harts desire, do commonly grow insup­portable, and thinke to offend their ma­iesty if they do not retire themselues from the sight of men. Alexander after the de­feat of Darius did not vse any salutation in his letters but vnto Phocian and Antipa­ter, A long raigne makes a Princes power so absolute and so fearfull as he can hard­ly containe himselfe in that first modera­tion. Wherfore Tiberius and Nero were as much hated in the end of their empires as they had beene honored in the be­ginning.

Their is no change in the good nature [Page 105] of this great Prince, he doth not abuse his good fortunes, he doth not thinke that his body yeelds a greater shaddow after, then before his victories. They haue of­ten admired his great familiarity with his subiects and oft he hath beene heard say to free them from this wonder, Pompe and shewes are for those which haue no other means to make themselues to be esteemed, but God by his grace hath put enough into mee to make knowne what I am, and at all euents I had ra­ther be beloued then feared. A royall speech. Loue growes not from rigor, nor pride. The philosophers hold that bitternesse brings forth nothing. Too great seuerity ruines in steed of edifying. A prince may be hated, although they which hate him are not hatefull vnto him; but he cannot be beloued vnlesse he loue. He which will be beloued and not loue, is like vnto him that seeketh to light a lampe at a torch that is quite out.

Posterity will receiue with more admi­ration [Page 106] then beliefe the tables of this incre­dible mildnesse and facillity. I haue seene Embassadors so rauisht and amazed, as going from their audience they haue said that they wondred that the stones and rockes haue not mooued out of their places to serue so good a Prince. His moderation, which makes him so wise in affaires and so trac­table vnto reason, doth not suffer his spir­rits to wander in the deseignes of Cyrus, who did not limit his rest vntill he was ti­red with the vanities of his ambition, for he thinkes in time what he shall doe for himselfe when he hath no more to do for his estate, that my Lord the Daulphin shall be capable to raigne and he in that part of his life which counsell Princes that haue liued in torment to seeke for a safe port.

Hee giues the great toyles of his youth to all France, and reserues the last sea­son to his house at Fountainebleau.

King Francis the first, her first restorer, [Page 107] had foretold that they should one day see her one of the goodliest ruines in Eu­rope, The last troubles, verifying this pre­diction, had made it a retreat of wilde beastes which durst not goe to the Forrests.

He hath raised her ruines and hath beau­tified her with such perfections as she merrits to be nombred amongst the won­bers of the world. The Duke of Sauoy, The Duke of Mantoua, the Duke of Vir­temberg haue admired it as the goodliest abode in Europe. There he resolued to at­tend some glorious occasion for the crou­ning of his life and toyles to the good of Christendome. In this sweet solitarinesse, which is alwaies enuironed with actions, exercises and affayres, he is pleased to quite the victorious Bayes which shad­dowe his forehead, to refresh him-selfe in the shaddowes of those vallies which he hath planted; and to passe the time without any losse of time.

[Page 108] When hee is in his house, idlenesse doth not steale from him any moment of his houres, he is alwayes in vigor and force, alwaies fresh and in humor, alwayes care­full of his reputation. The older it growes the more carefull it should bee manured. His exercises in peace are no lesse labori­ous then his millitary actions, hee enters into affaires before day, and with the break of day he goeth a hunting & follow­eth the Stags thirty leagues, at his returne he giues himselfe to some other exercises, he ends the iourney in his alleys, goes a­bout his channel, & maks his whole train to sweat. Hee neuer steps foote, speakes a word, nor giues a looke but with some de­signe. There is no discourse so familiar, nor priuate fauour which hindreth, but within an houre after hee lets them know whom hee hath fauoured that hee is the maister.

In this goodly and royall house he hath treated of the goodliest affaires in Chri­stendome, [Page 109] and hath receiued great bles­sings from heauen. There he hath ioyed at the birth of my Lord the Dolphin, of the Duke of Orleance, the Duke of An­jou, and of the Lady Elizabeth his eldest Daughter.

This place hath produced that iust and necessary Edict against the liberty and fu­ry of combates, the happy fruits of peace, to spare and stanch the best and whotest bloud of France, which was shed by this wound of the point of honor. The losse of bloud is alwayes suspect, if nature doth not consent vnto it, not the Physitions or­daine it. It is so necessary for the preserua­tion of mans body, as from what part so­euer it goes, wee must seeke to stay it. The King was not content, with Numa to haue the law which staies this bloud within the body published, but hee would like vnto Lycurgus haue it obserued. In former ages they feared men more then lawes, in his reigne they fear the laws more then men.

[Page 110] This exact and perfect obseruation, showes, that ordinances which were im­possible to his predecessors, passe without contempt vnder the absolute and redoub­ted respect of his cōmandement. Hee was much grieued that he had no sooner vsed this remedy, and said, that hee had not at­tempted it but when as he thought he might doe it effectually and profitably. A noble man of Flanders came to demand leaue of him to fight in France against another stranger. Hee answered him with this Dilemma, Combats are eyther permitted by God, or for­bidden; if it bee allowed why doe you refuse it in Flanders? if it bee forbidden; why doe you seeke it in France? there may bee many and di­uerse Kings, but there can bee 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 grieue that I cannot preuent in mine owne subiects?

A midst these publick thoughts he doth not forget the priuate care of the breeding [Page 111] and institution of the Princes his childrē, the three mighty pillers of this estate. Hee hath a wonderfull desire to see that royall plant which should succeed him, to grow and flourish, and said often to the Queen, that she could not haue any meditation in her soule, nor prayer in her mouth of greater fer­uency and deuotion, then to obtaine the fa­uour of God, to see her sonne well bred vp, ad­ding, that there was nothing so dangerous, as to be an ignorant King, sometimes calling those Princes that were ill brought vp, golden Calues. When as he gaue him those, who do at this day so carefully second his intentions, he spake these words vnto him worthy of so good a father, and so wise a King, My sonne, trouble not your selfe for ri­ches or treasure, I will leaue you sufficient, but you must make your selfe capable to get know­ledge and vertue, which I cannot giue you: If you your selfe doe not endeuour to attaine vnto it by those meanes which those will shew you whom I haue appointed to bee about you. Princes may bee borne good, [Page 112] generous and capable of vertue, but in­stitution only makes them wise: wisdome cannot be gotten without payne, she can­not be sould, and it may be she should find few Chapmen, for folly is bought daily.

Realmes haue an interest in the bree­ding of their Kings children, and the care that comes from them should be sacred vnto them. Romulus to make triall of his force cast a Iauelin from mount Auentin to Palatine, the which entred so farre into a far soyle, as it could not be puld out, the end of the dart which was of a Ceruice­tree was couered with earth, tooke roote, cast forth branches and became a great tree, the which was walled about and pre­serued with so great care, as if any one saw the leanes but wither, or that it had neede of watering to keeep it greene, he gaue an alarum to the whole Citty and cried for water, as if all had beene on fier.

In like manner subiects haue cause to greiue and complaine when as these [Page 113] plants from whence they hope for fruits of Iustice, and the shaddow of their rest, do wither, being negligently clensed, wa­tered, and manured.

Amidst all this he is wonderfully care­full of his maiesty, and to maintaine this great reputation which makes his life ad­mirable to the whole world. They haue no other discourse in the Cabinets of Princes nor in the Senates of common­weales, but of his heroicall actions and of his iust and perfect felicities. They are wonderfully amazed to see a Prince in former-times so hated, to be so beloued, a Prince so persecuted to be so happy, a Prince so valiant to be so milde, a Prince so good to bee so feared. His name is knowne to Nations which doe not know him, he is of such authority as he pre­scribes a law euen to those which will not receiue it but by force. They of Holland and Zeland haue carried it vnto the 70. degree, and those countries deserue not [Page 114] to bee knowne, which doe not know his reputation. Reputation the Manna and Nepenthe of generous spirits, the goddesse of great courages is so delicate, as the least excesse doth blemish it, an vniust enter­prise dishonoreth it, an act of indiscretion, negligence, or idlenesse doth deface it, and a sinister successe ruines it. It is a spirit that goes and returnes no more. They report that water, fire, and reputation, vnder­tooke to goe throughout the world, and fearing they should goe astray, they gaue signes one vnto another: Water said that they should finde her where as they sawe reeds, and fire whereas the smoke appea­red, loose mee not said reputation, for if I get from you, you will neuer finde mee a­gaine. There is no such misery as to sur­uiue ones reputation, nor so great a folly as to put it in hazard. They commend that braue archer, who refused to shew his skill vnto Alexander; fearing to loose that honor in an houre, which hee had gotten [Page 115] all his life. In the course of the Olympike games, hee that failes in the ambitious hopes of the first crowne, may pretend the second, or the third, but in this course of Royall vertues, who so cannot obtaine that of reputation, shall reape small fruits of the rest, he is presently contemned, and to vse the termes of this great Prince, hee may well say, that the chaine is broken, for after that he is once grown into contempt he alwaies declines. They say a Prince should neuer see the portrait of feare but on his enemies backe, but there are two kindes of feare excusable, the one within against conspiracies, and the other with­out against the power and designes of strangers. He shall preuent the first in do­ing nothing that may make him contem­tible and odious to his subiects, and force & armes shall defend him from the other.

A great King that will not haue his ma­iesty strike against this dangerous rock of contempt, must alwaies bend his thoughts to great actions, for great Princes [Page 116] are not knowne but by their great enter­prises, God showes that he is God by the greatnesse of his workes. If he builds it is a world, if he be angry against the world he sends a deluge, if he will show his loue that he beares to the world, he suffers his sonne to dye vpon the crosse to saue the world, if hee will recompence the world it is with his paradice; If hee armes, the Angels march in the head of his armie, the Elements are the Marshals of his Campe, the Rocks remooue from their center, and follow it to giue it water, the clowds guide it by day, and pillars of fire by night, the Sea opens in twelue parts for her passage, and the sunne stayes to giue 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 bee al­wayes held a King, should not doe any thing but should tend to greatnesse.

Wherfore considering that many great [Page 117] Princes had lost, in the pleasures of peace, the glory which they had purchased in the danger of warre, he labours incessant­ly to preserue this great authority, credit and generall reputation. His spirit, which is quick and actiue, like vnto the highest element, hath no rest but in trauell, nor content but in paine. The issue of one designe, is the entry into another. But as all things are maintained by order, that the temples of the Gods are not made of base stuffe, the reputation of this great Prince proceeding from great and in­comparable actions, must bee preserued and increased by great and admirable ef­fects. Princes which goe not out of their Cabinets, whose liues are like vnto Oy­sters, alwayes shut vp in their shels, who cause themselues to bee kept like vnto the fire of the vestall virgins, and are like vn­to those Idols that haue hands and vse them not, feete and goe not, doe alwayes suruiue their reputation.

[Page 118] Behold in an Instant a great and mighty Army which drawes vpon it the eyes and thoughts of al Europe. If we shall iudge of the deseigne of this Prince by his courage and good fortune, what triumph shall he not hope for? We see the bow bent, but no man but the Archer knoweth whether the arrow shall flie. He hath no cause of feare neither within nor without the realme. All Princes speake according to his hearts desire, and yeeld to what he de­mands. He knows their forces and serch­eth into their deseignes. The desire to be vnderstood without sending either let­ter or post, hath inuented the Cipher of the Adamant, by the which they ima­gine, that when as the caracter is toucht it mooues in the counter-cipher a hundreth leagues from thence. The harts of al prin­ces are like letters of Adamant, the King carries the Alphabet, they do not mooue neere, nor farre of, but he vnderstands it.

Charge great King, Charge, where and [Page 119] when you please. If the God of Armes be for you, who can be against you? the light­ning makes way through the darkest clouds, and your deseignes shall shine a­midst the greatest difficulties. They shall succeed otherwise then men thinke and in places not foreseene, like vnto diuedop­pers, who casting themselues into the wa­ter rise againe where they are not looked for. And admitt you had no deseigne, nei­ther on this side the riuer of Rine, nor be­hold the Alpes, it is sufficient to shew what you can doe when you please to execute that which is difficult. They iudge of the monstrous greatnesse of Polyphemus by the measure of his finger: we must consider of this Armie what the power of your Maiesty is.

When we behold you in this height of glory our discourse is changed into admi­ration, we do like vnto those people who, adoring and admiring the sunne, can do no other thing but lift vp their handes [Page 120] and set them to their mouthes. Admirati­on beginnes and silence ends their ho­mage. Your felicity is so absolute as you haue no need of felicity, your subiects are so happy vnder your Empire, as they can desire nothing more then that it may be perpetuall.

Stay Reader.

BEhold a strange passage, frō a Triumph to a Tombe. 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 vp­pon the frontier; but in a moment all my thoughtes were ouerthrowne, and this remain­der, which should haue beene beautified with the trophees of his armes is filled with the mournefull spoiles of his life. As sometime the [Page 121] Citty of Athens was at one instant transported with great ioy for the happy returne of These­us from his voyage of Candy, and afflicted with exceeding griefe for the death of King Aegeus his father, witnessing both the one and the other passion by that cry, which since hath beene solemnly obserued by the Oschopho­ries [...] whereof the first is a sound of triumph and courage, and the other a voyce of amazement and affliction; euen so France full of contents, and apt to receiue greater, sawe it selfe it an instant plung'd in a gulfe of sorrowes and afflictions for the execrable paricide com­mitted on the sacred person of her King.

This misery, the bottomlesse spring of sor­rowes and complaints, hath made this Pane­gyre imperfect, for whereas it should haue ended by the glory of things done, I cut it off with the hope of that which was to doe. It shall haue perfection enough if it may appeare among so many goodly and rich peeces, which the mournefull Muses haue erected about the tombe of this great Achilles. They haue not [Page 122] ceased these ten moneths, to honour him with crownes of all prices, of all fashions, and of all sorts of flowers. What may bee done more? be­hold some leaues which they haue left all bathd with teares, the which as much obliged as ma­ny, but lesse diligent then any, I adde vnto this publick sorrow.

If any one say that I performe this duty too late, this griefe is alwayes in season. It is so ex­treame and violent, as it growes more bitter by consolation, it resists reason, it is renued with time, it is comprehended more by feeling then discourse, constancie cannot vanquish it, nor wisdome dissemble it. I wept when as all the world spake, and now when as the time of mourning wipes away teares, I continue and renew my complaints. My afflictions en­crease when as I heare of consolations. Sor­rowes growne to a custome, are pleasing to mi­serable men, the obiects reuiue them, and the Historie of this great King, which is the Rocke I rowle dayly, furnishing mee at euery moment where-with to make his life to bee [Page 123] admired, giues mee but too much subiect to lament his death. Farewell Reader, and passe on.

A Funerall Discourse of the so­daine death of the most Christi­an King Henry the fourth.

YEsterday Saint Denis was all in triumph, Paris should haue beene after to mor­row, & this day all France mournes, all Frenchmen are full of affliction. Thus the clearest dayes haue their stormes, the euening is not answerable to the calmnesse of the morning, nor to the cleernesse. of the noone day. Cloudy rocks deceiue Mar­riners, and shippes are lost where they thinke them-selues safest. Pleasures [Page 124] smother them that imbrace them; sorrow and delight hold so fast together, as they are as inseperable as a conuex superficies from a concaue.

Let vs speake 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 Citty of the Guales, but here there is but a moment. A moment so full of wonders and misteries, as it is able to entertaine the minde of man day & night in deepe meditations. A moment which may better bee considered by silence then by discourse. A moment which giueth feare vnto the faithfull, amazment to the prophane, and sorrow to all men.

An arrow shot from towards Egipt, slue Iosias in his Chariot. Henry the fourth, the first King of Christendome, the grea­test Captaine of Europe, & the best of the [Page 125] French kings, who neuer was in any place but a victor, and who neuer desired victo­ries but for the good of the vanquished; who was chosen of God to march first with his thundering sword to reuenge the iniuries and raise the ruines of Christen­dome; who was a Dauid in courage, a Sa. lomon in wisdom, and an Ezechias in zeale; who in the felicity of his dayes, may iust­ly be termed the Christian Augustus, for that there neuer had beene a general peace but vnder his raigne; who made it known what a great iudgment could do in a great fortune, a great modesty in a great power; victorious ouer so many armies, and tri­umphing at so many seiges, combats, en­terprises and encounters; Henry vpon whom all eies were turned, his Heroicall vertues commended, his will respected, and all his actions admired; Henry re­doubted of all Soueraigne powers, ad­uanced to the height of worldly great­nesse and full of all sortes of contents, [Page 126] happy in warre, happy in peace, happy in wife, happy in children, and happy in euery thing, is miserably and trecherously slaine in his Caroch, and passeth from one life to another in a moment.

This fatall and desastrous moment, in­gaging vs for so many years in mourning and sorrow, is the day of the death of our prosperities, and the birth of this Princes life. The first day of the fift moneth of the fiftie seuenth yeare of his age must be cal­led his day, for how long soeuer mans life be he hath properly but one day that may be termed his. The hower which thrusts forth his last gaspe is his hower, all the rest is no more his. Whatsoeuer he hath done in his life is considered by this day, the iudge of all his other dayes, the most difficult Catastrophe of the tragedy of mans life. He that is the author of the first and disposeth of the last doth only know it, foresees and mocks at man who thinkes he is farre from it. Before the [Page 127] last sand of this last day be runne, he can­not crowne his felicity: we must prayse safety after dangers, nauigation in the port, and victory in the triumph. Who can commend his life and hold himselfe so happy whiles that the time past mini­sters vnto him matter to lament, and that which is to come to feare? This day was feared of all men, yet not expected of any: Euery man did apprehend it as the period of some great reuolution, but for that they held it to be a farre of the opinion of the length of time did moderate the apprehension, and the lesse it was foreseene the more fearefull it hath prooued.

And who could imagine so great a mischeefe in the midst of so many prospe­rities, or foresee this storme in so great a calme? If any one amidst this generall ioy and content should but haue thought of these accidents, they would haue held his braine to haue beene troubled [Page 128] with the fumes of melancholy, they would haue laught at him as they did at Anaxa­goras, who came to the Olimpick games in a great gowne, for that the day was so fayre and the ayre so cleeere, as there was no shew of raigne, and yet presently after it poured downe in great aboundance.

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 starres were of his intelligence, that the Intelli­gences guided his deseignes, and misfor­tune which may fal vpon any man could not fall vpon him, that the lightening of heauen which had often fallen neere vn­to him and not hurt him, would respect his tables as it had don those of Hercules. I am forced to confesse that the bright shi­ning beames of this great felicity, and of this powerfull reputation dazeled mine eyes, I could not behold it firmely, my sight could not find any obiect that might [Page 129] equall it, I saw nothing beyond this King greater then God, neither did I see any thing on this side God more mighty then this King.

I had knowne the world sufficiently ne­uer to doubt of her vanity and inconstan­cie, and although this knowledge be long, yet the life of man is not too short to learn it, but the proofes are dangerous. Since the time I had the honor to see and examine strictly the actions of this great King, I felt this knowledge to alter in my soule, and doubting of that which was not que­stionable, I began to beleeue that which was altogether vncertaine. I did consi­der what he had done, and what he would do, I saw him redoubted of his neighbors, well serued at home, his power much re­spected and admired abroad, his affaires assured, his counsels sound, his Arcenall full of armes, his Bastile full of gold, his house of blessings, his realme of pro­sperities, and his spirit of great designes; [Page 130] the Princes kept short, the greatest made humble, the parlaments ready at his com­mands, the subiects to praise that where­of in former times they had complained, and Orpheus statue to sweat at the bruite of his deseignes, and the admirable prepa­ration of his armes. So great and mighty a preparation as if he would haue limited his deseignes by the riuer of Rine they would haue intreated him to rest satisfied with all that is on this side.

In the admiration of all this I said vnto my selfe. Behold an age of wonders, the order of the world is changed, this Prince vnder­stands it, he seekes an vnknowne way, he will settle a new beleife of the stability of worldly things, he will fixe a naile to stay fortunes wheele, he will let vs see that which we durst not hope for.

They say that Iupiter during the com­bat betweene the Grecians and the Tro­ians, when as the Gods were deuided a­mong themselues for the one and the o­ther, cast forth a great thunderbolt which [Page 131] amazed both parties. As France is ready to passe the frontier to incounter some ob­iect worthy of her power, behold the ter­rible and fearfull blow which striks ama­zement into all the world, behold that tra­gick moment which mockes at my dis­course, and makes me see that these great shadowes did betoken the sunnes setting.

In the Image of this fatall day, I repre­sent vnto my selfe that of Phillip, father vnto Alexander, who in the 46. yeare of his life, and the 24. of his raigne, resolued to passe into Asia, and to prescribe a law to the persians, he consulted with the Oracle to know the Issue of his deseigne, and it was told him that the oxe should be crow­ned to be led vnto the sacrifise, he thought that the King of Persia should haue been the oblation: and to begin to giue thankes to the Gods of victories, which he held but in hope, he ordained sacrifices, playes and publick feasts, and prises for learning armes, and musicke; he inuited all the Citties of Greece to this publick ioy, & to [Page 132] 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 mischeefe which should depriue him of life, as Neoptolemus sing­ing an hymne during the feast, which at euery change spake of the vanity of great Kings and how that death crossed their deseignes, all which he tooke for his ad­uantage, as a prediction of the ruine of the King of Persia.

The next day he went vnto the theater to see the playes, and sheweth himselfe with a maiesty contrary to the ordinary of Kings. His Image followed twelue sta­tues of the Gods, after which he marched, and to shew that he had no distrust of the Gretians he would not haue any guards a­bout him. In a moment fortune, which neuer giues great contents for nothing, changeth this pompe into mourning.

Pausanias who did smother in his soule [Page 133] the reuenge of an iniury, seeing him in this estate, aduanceth, and drawing a sword from vnder his robe thrust him in to the flanke and slew him.

But who so knoweth that this murthe­rer being greiuously wronged by Attalus could obtaine no iustice from Phillip, will abate much of the amazement, the which cannot be diminished in this other acci­dent, for the King is miserably murthered by a man who neuer had any cause to complaine of him. I do not hold it strange that the Emperour Maximin was murde­red in his tent with his wife and children. nor that the souldiers cried out that not any one of a wicked race should be left a­liue. For besides that these violencies were ordinary in the Roman Empire, he tooke away the goods, honor, and liues of Cittizens without forme of Iustice: I am no more amazed that Antiochus did breed wormes in his flesh, he had left liue­ly markes of his impiety in the Temple.

[Page 134] I am silent when I see Attalus King of Pergamo, reduced to extreame misery, and Pyrrhus pursued by Fortune both by sea and land, and Cambises fall vpon the point of his sword, and Aristobulus vo­miting forth his soule with his bloud. The first had slaine his mother and his wife, the second had spoiled Proserpinas Temple; the third had murthered his brother and his sister beeing with child, and the fourth had put his mother and his brother to death.

But I am amazed to see a Prince who deserueth to bee called the delights of man-kinde, encounter with a death so vnworthy of this great and incom­parable bounty. A Prince so great, so good, so mercifull, so wise, so happy, so redoubted, so valiant, was worthy of another age and of another end.

But when as I present him to my selfe like a Lyon, who beeing as often victori­ous as assayled, is in such reputation of [Page 135] his owne force, as it doth amaze with the terror of his eyes those that meane to as­saile it, and that I see him slaine by a flye, 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 staide spirits seeke to examine that which the Philo­sophers call destinie, a certaine necessitie, imposed vnto things, and cause her to come from aboue, or from supposed principles, as from the concurrens of the Atomes of Democritus, or the imagina­tions of the soule of the vniuerse, or from the order or course of causes, or from the influence of the starres.

The pure Doctrine termes it A di­sposition of the diuine prouidence of that which regardes the aduentures and euents of the beeing, and of the infe­riour life. A disposition which beeing [Page 136] eternal & immutable, as being in the spirit of God, doth not impose any necessity, and in that shee carrieth her effects into things that are humane and created, she is temporall, mutable and contingent. So as man being considered as temporall, he is vnder destinie, but in his principall part, which is immortall, hee is not subiect vn­lesse hee list. The starres haue no power ouer his will. The action of destiny, vpon the matter is necessary, the effect is not. It may be preuented by vigillancy, care, wis­dome and other helpes from heauen, and yet in doing nothing but what wee will there happens nothing but what God knowes shall succeed.

All that is in God, is God himselfe, the knowledge of God is his essence, his es­sence is immutable, and so consequently his knowledge is inuariable, all that hee knowes is infallible, and yet this know­ledge doth not impose any necessity vp­on the actions and wills of men, for this [Page 137] knowledge compared vnto things crea­ted, is like vnto the knowledge of the workman vpon his worke, the which is not the cause; it is the will of the work­man, without the which the worke should alwaies remaine conceiued and framed in his minde and be neuer seene. The Idaeas which are in the vnderstanding of God, are the formes and beginnings of all things, wherefore the knowledge of God is not the cause, for the actions doe not proceed from the knowledge, but by the meanes 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 wher­vnto 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 eternall wisdom whose secrets are vnknowne to men, and shall neuer bee deciphered but at that day, when we shall [Page 138] see his maiesty drawn in a chariot through the clouds, hath suffered this mischeefe to fall either to free and deliuer this Prince from some greater, or to aflict this realme or to make it an example to all the Princes of the earth, or to shew that the world and al her greatnesse are but a shadow, dust and wind.

The great God who is the iudge of life and death, hath disposed of the life of this Prince by so fatall and mournfull an accident, to the end France should know that they be the effects of his great iustice, who being offended at the excesse of this people, with the daughters of Moab, com­manded Moises to cause al the Princes and heads to be hanged in the sight of the sun, to the end his fury might be diuerted from Israell.

He giues wayward and difficult Kings to the people, and takes away good, when as he seeth they are vnworthy of the one and haue need of the other.

[Page 139] He will of that these execrable blowes, as of so many vipers, Princes should compound a treakle against the pride, ingratitude and blindnesse of their liues, vnto the end they may truely apprehend whence they are come and whether they should goe.

What shall those proud spirits thinke who can neuer humble themselues, when with the eyes of their thought they shall enter into this Caroch and view this great King slaine in the middest of seuen great noble-men of his court, by the poorest wretch of his King­dome? Can they haue a better lesson to teach them the misery of their con­dition? Let them aduance their de­seignes, and grow neuer so proude they shall be like vnto those misticall trees, which decayed, when as from the topps of them they might discouer the sadde ruines of ancient Troy.

[Page 140] when in this folstice of greatnesse and worldly felicity, they shall behold the tombe of this great King, their pride must needs fall and their ambitions grow humble.

Swell all thou canst humane arrogancy, thou art but a shadow and no more. Take the wall of the Gods if thou wilt, all thy glory is but winde. let Belus vsurpe the name of God if he list: let Ninus or daine altars for his father: let Nabucadonosor cause himselfe to be adored, let Clearchus the tirant of Heraclea carry the lighte­ning for his deuice, and call one of his Sonnes thunder: let Alexander terme him selfe the son of Iupiter Ammon: Cesar go e­qual with the gods, Augustus hold himselfe the Sonne of Apollo, Nero take the crowns from the Altar of the Gods, to adorne his bed, Domitian disdaine his mother to call himselfe the sonne of Pallas, Caligula take of the heads of the Images of the Gods to set on his owne, Commodus hold Mercuries [Page 141] Caduce in his hand, let Marcellus being in Spaine suffer Crownes to descend vppon his head with artificall thunder and light­ning. Let the King of the Molossiens play Pluto in his Court, and call his wife Pro­serpina his daughter Ceres and his dogge Cerberus, yet they are men, and in this word are comprehended all the vanities and miseries of this world. They are but weaknesse in their birth, inconstancy in their life, and stinking putrifaction in their death, compassed in with a thousand miseries as soone as they come out of their mothers womb. Their pride is but smoak which vanisheth as it riseth, and in the end drawes teares from their eies. The greatest Princes of the world haue hum­bled themselues as often as they haue 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 somwher els, or not at al. earth earth earth saies the voice of the Prophet. heare the [Page 142] word of the Lord. We must haue eares to heare them of men, but our eyes onely wil heare that of God. Wee vnderstand him in seeing these great & terrible accidents. Earth which commest 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 returnes to earth.

Emperors, Kings and Princes, you are but dust, know it; your crownes depend of God, acknowledge it: your daies rowle and slide away like a waue: your life is more fraile then the winde; an earthen vessell handled gently and preserued care­fully may bee long kept; But howsoeuer you care for your liues, they must needs breake and dissolue. Your greatnesses are but heapes of snow, which we see melt in­to water from whence it comes: your life is like a lampe exposed to the winde, the which is put out with euery puffe

The mornful sight of this Carosse binds [Page 143] you to consider of the great & wonderfull distance which is betwixt God and you. The names shew the difference. EL signi­fies force, support & the foundation of all; Adam Imbecility, infirmity, and so feeble a thing, as it cannot stand of it selfe. Your dayes are compared to the shadow of a Torch, the which vanisheth, it beeing put out: the weakest differs not so much from the most valiant, & the meanest from the most excellent: as a mortall thing from that which is diuine: Mortall and diuine are opposite and contraries. Accursed flat­tery doth blush for shame when shee sees the Heathen deale otherwise with great men. The towne of Athens receiued Pom­pey with these words. For asmuch as thou holdest thy selfe to bee a man, we esteeme thee a God. Those great Cedars of Libanus are ouer-throwne at the least puffe of death, which make shepherds equal vnto kings. & who hauing come to the old age of som, hath laide ambushes for the youth of o­thers. That this great Prince is dead, it [Page 144] is the course of nature, and the law of the vniuerse. Hee hath runne the same course which 63. Kings of France haue done, and which all his successors shall doe. It is a folly to complaine of life, and to bee troubled at ones end. He that is grieued at death, is grieued that he is mortall, and his griefe comes too late, for he should grieue at his birth, which makes him mortall, and not at his death which makes him immortall.

That it was violent, great Princes are subiect to these misfortunes. The Ro­maine Empire had more Emperors slaine by their gards, then by their enemies. As the birth and funerals of Princes haue more pompe then others, so hath their death more amazement. That hee is dead sodenly, it is the sweetest death, for it takes feare & apprehension from death, which is most troublesome. But that hee is dead with the reputation of one of the greatest Princes of the world: it must needs be the [Page 145] effects of a wonderfull glorious life. To dye in the brightnesse of great deseignes, is to braue death it selfe, and to reuiue and liue againe. The last gaspe of such a death, hath no paine, and there is com­fort in the shortnes. It is nothing, said, that Prince in dying. Death which seemed to be the west and sunne-set of his life, was the Meridian of his glory. Neuer Prince carried his life farther into death: for it seemes he past without any midest from one extreame vnto the other death.

The Colosse of Rhodes, one of the wonders of the world, was no lesse ad­mired beeing beaten downe 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 Colosse of the wonders of Heauen, a maister-peice of the almighty power, the world admired him; but when as they saw that from his incomparable actions, and the least [Page 146] effects of his reputation, they might draw perfect Images, and assured examples of vertues necessary for Kings, this admira­tion was changed into rauishment.

A theater of vertues▪ He that wil frame his heart to pure and simple piety, let him consider his zeale to the seruice of God, his bounty to Churches, and his care for the concord of Consciences. He that will see Iustice, let him behold it in his lawes and in his armes: who so desires truth, let him examine his words and his promises. He that knowes not wherein magnani­mity doth consist, let him represent vnto himselfelfe the crosses which he hath in­countred, and the dangers which he hath surmounted, Hee that labours to know constancy, let him admire his fortune. He that will learne the true vse of liberality, let him obserue what he giues and what he refuseth, how he giues in refusing, & how he demands in giuing. He that seeks infal­lible proofes of wisdome valor and mode­ration, [Page 147] let him thinke of his deseignes, note his combates, and consider his victories.

He that hath desire to erect trophees vn­to clemency, let him nomber the enemies which he hath vanquished, saued and re­compenced, left them their liues and re­stored their honors. Of wrongs receiued he hath giuen some vnto time, many to re­pentance, and al to his bounty. This death was violent by the stroke of that paricide arme, but it was not by the wil of him that receiued it; as he desired not death so he feared not his hower. He had beene so of­ten and in so many dangers confronted by her, as he attended her euerywhere reso­lutly and with an assured constancy. He hath been often heard say, that he would neuer refuse to drink of that cup.

He did not care whether it were by a fea­uer or by the sword, whether the gate were open or broken. Hee was not of the humor of Aristides of Locris who dying of [Page 148] the biting of a Wesell, was grieued that he had not beene bitten by a Lyon. Hee thought that this present, whether it were brought by a Rauen or by a Doue, came from heauen, and by his appointment who onely knowes the number of our dayes.

Being at Fontainbleau in Nouember last, and discoursing which was the best kinde of death: Hee concluded with Cae­sar for that which was sodaine, adding, that hee would willingly bee shot in the head with a Cannon, that day that hee should win a battle for France. Epaminon­das commanded that they should drawe out the darte wherewith hee was woun­ded, and did willingly embrace death which came to salute him in the middest of the acclamations for a victory which he had gotten for his country. All Greece did coniure and inuire Diagoras the Rho­dian to runne vnto death, after hee had seene his three sonnes Crownd at the [Page 149] Olympick games. As hee did not sepe­rate action from life, so would hee not haue glory seperated from death, nor that the length of aboad should preiudice the sodainesse of the issue. Hee held them miserable, who had nothing but yeares to prooue that they had liued, and them more miserable, who had suruiued their reputation. Alexander in his opinion was happy, for that hee dyed yong, in the pro­gresse of his reputation, and Cyrus wret­ched for that the length of his life had ex­posed him to the change of his fortune.

Hee that thinkes of the life of the soule, may desire a goodly death for the body, and all her beauty doth consist but in the honor. The ambition to yeeld vp the last gaspe gloriously, is alwayes commen­dable in a Prince, who cannot too much desire honor, nor too much contemne all the rest. It is the continuall obiect of his eyes and heart. Golde which is but earth, more purified then the rest, and riches [Page 150] which are lost on the earth are for men, whose spirites are full of earthly va­pours, honour is for the Gods, and for those that are esteemed neere vnto the Gods.

A generous life runnes vnto a death different from ordinary men, such a death as many Princes of that venera­ble and couragious house of Bourbon, haue desired and incountred; Iames of Bourbon Constable of France, and Peter of Burbon his sonne, dyed at the battle of Brignay, neere vnto Lyon; Lewis of Bourbon at that of Azin­court, Iohn Duke of Burbon, the first of that name, was taken prisoner there. Francis of Burbon Duke of Chasteleraut, was slaine at the battle of Saint Brid­get; Charles Duke of Burbon at the taking of Rome; Iohn of Burbō duke of Anguien died at the battle of Saint Lawrence; Antho­ny of Bourbon Duke of Vendosme and [Page 151] King of Nauarre, was slain with a harque­bush shot at the siege of Roan, Lewis of Burbon Prince of Condy, dyed at the battaile of Iarnae.

This great Prince would not end his life otherwise, thinking it vnworthy of a great courage to languish betwixt a desire of life, and the feare of death, and to quite for the interest of his abode, some-times the vse of a member, halfe Eis sight, and all his hearing, and to sub­mit himselfe to the discretion of paine and old age.

His desire was not like vnto ours, wee would haue wisht to haue seene him send vppe his soule quietly to the place of his beginning after a long con­tinuance of yeares, and the glorious ending of his designes, that the Queene had closed vppe his eyes, that the Princes his Children had receyued his blessing, the which is of such efficacie, [Page 152] comming from the mouth of a father, as many haue thought that Oracles and pro­phesies were not more certaine: we would haue desired that he had had time to teach his sonne, as he said, the knowledge of good and euill, that his death had beene like vnto theirs, who sung dying, and who dyed singing the graces which they had receiued from the handes of the Al­mighty.

But as death is certaine, so the forme is vncertain, 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 themselues; some are snacht away, some pulled gently, and the violence of the wind and haile beateth them downe in­differently.

As he liued and is dead after an other manner then other men, so the sorrow for his death, was different from that of other [Page 153] Kings. He had liued triumphing, he dyed in the assurance of a great triumph, his bo­dy being carried to his graue did go vnder triumphant arches, he hath past trium­phantly beyond the firmament, where he sees God, liues with God, is in God, and knowes the truth of the glorious relations which had beene made vnto him of the Citty of God.

In a moment, by the losse of some years which seemed to remaine of a painefull and laborious life, he purchased eternity. For soddenly vppon the feeling of this mortall wound, he turned his eies towards heauen, and carried his thoughtes whe­ther his extreame aflictions did conduct him. we must not demand whose they are which are aflicted, nor wheron they thinke. Afliction makes men forget the world, when they must thinke of heauen. Afliction is the liuery of the seruants of God. Heauen speakes vpon Iordan and vpon mount Thabor to advow the sonne [Page 154] of God, but at his death it is silent, for that the crosse is sufficient to declare what he is.

He who is in all places where hee is cal­led on, God in the crib, God on the crosse, God in the graue, and God euery where, who heares Ieremy in the mire, Daniell in the den, who makes a pallace of a stable▪ of a Thabor a Mountaine, of a Caluary a Paradice, maks of this Caroch an Arke of propitiation, and sends his Angels thether to assist this soule, all gor'd with bloud, going forth of an innocent wound, nay rather all bathd and coue­red with he bloud of the Lambe which was slaine from the beginning of the world. Hee receiues this generous, cour­teous and meeke soule, which neuer refu­sed his grace to any one that sought it.

That great and vnspeakable mercy for­tifie vs in this beliefe, and the same truth which recommends mercy vnto men; for that God is all mercy, and will rather cease to bee God, then to bee mercifull, [Page 155] who promiseth mercy to those which shall be mercifull. This great King who in the whole course of his life hath done nothing but remit offences, who hath not onely pardoned but forgotten them, not onely forgotten but recompenced them, hath found in heauen the fruits of mercy which hee had sowne vpon earth. His offences are remitted that doth remit; hee that demands grace and shewes it not, is like vnto him that ruines a bridge ouer which he is to passe. Hee which sheweth grace to his inferiour, is assured that his superiour will not refuse it him. It were blasphemy to thinke that God will bee vanquished by his creature. Hee is plea­sed to shew his great succour in great ac­cidents, Man falles, and hee comes from heauen to giue him his hand. Hee had many other meanes to haue raised him vppe, but his loue found none more fitte. Hee might haue suffered this Prince to haue dyed otherwise, but his [Page 156] mercy had not beene so apparant in any other kind of death. He calls these terrible and soddaine incounters to the absolute power of his bounty, where as man hath scarce the time to contribute a thought or a sigh. Moreouer the Church hauing in her institution bound all Christians to pray for the health of all Kings and Prin­ces, there is no doubt but at the very houre of their death all these continued prayers made incessantly, and sent vp to heauen by so many millions of hearts, are of very great efficacie, by his merit whom Israell crowned as a King, and crucified as an offender.

A soddaine death is terrible and feare­full, but it is not to those which attend it alwayes constantly, and haue beene often in those places where she doth neuer terri­fie any but cowards. This sodainesse doth shake and amaze those soules, which doe neuer thinke of God but at need. A Prince who did watch, sleepe, walke, & eate often [Page 157] with these cogitations, made Christian-like 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 bee surprised by death. The treacherous knife opens his side to make a passage for that royall soule, but it could not wound his heart, to the which at his morning rising he had giuen the name of God in gard.

Wherefore let vs rather lament for our selues then for him, and let vs say of him as Rome did of Tytus, Hee is gone for his owne good, and for our afflictions; death which hath raised him to immortall felici­ties, doth plunge vs into a gulfe of mise­ries. Wee lament iustly for our selues, who see our hopes dead and our miseries li­uing, death hath stroke but one, and hath slain many. The felicity which he enioies doth not ease the affliction which doth torment vs, the contents which hee finds in heauen, takes not from vs the feeling of [Page 158] those griefes which his absence hath left vs vpon the earth. If death after this blow should haue broken his bow, dispairing euer to make the like shot, that would not cure the wound which his arrow hath made.

It auailes not to tell vs that we lament him not as dead but as absent, to represent vnto vs that we haue not lost him, but that we expect him, wee find occasions daily which make vs remember our losse, and the assurance of his returne cannot moderate the greefe of his departure. If there be any thing in this world able to mollifie our greefe, it is, that all nations and al people haue sorrowed for that which we lament. The aflicted receiue som ease when as euery man bears a share of their afliction. Christendome hath sor­rowed for this Prince like vnto a mother who being a widdow and ould hath lost her owne sonne: Her publicke teares doe witnesse what she hath lost and what shee [Page 159] doth seeke. This generall mourning in all realmes shews the reason of her greefe and the greatnes of her losse.

This common sorrow comprehends all Epitaphes that can be erected to his me­mory. Teares are better vnderstood then words, it is more easy to weepe for this Prince, then to speake of his Royall vertues.

If they will haue discourses to praise the wonders of his life, the whole world is the Theater, fame the Trumpet, and Immortality the triumph. If to animate mens courages to immitate them, they are in inimitable, no man but Hercules could measure that Olympian course, none but hee could bend that bowe, none but hee could weare the spoyles of Lynx, no man but Theseus could carrie that Clubbe.

Discourses are to no end, neither to augment the griefe of the losse, nor to [Page 160] aduance the greatnes of the glory of this Prince, for the one is infinite and the o­ther is seene in his Apogea. But teares shew that he which was lamented of eue­ry man was necessary for all. Glory hath presents and crownes of all sorts, vpon al occasions, and to honour all persons, she giueth in like manner to shipps which re­turne happily from long voiages, shee hath for the liuing, for the dead and for their tombes. Athens ordained leaues, Roome gaue them gold, and by the law of the twelue tables she did religiously re­commend their remembrance. Haniball gaue a Crowne to the body of Marsellus, Cleomenes to Lidias, Pericles to Paralas, Au­gustus crowned Alexanders monuments, the vrne of Dometrius ashes was crowned, & when as the Emperor Adrian demanded the reason from the Philosopher Epictetus he vnderstood that those crownes did be­long to the dead as victors ouer life, which is but a perpetuall warfare.

[Page 161] Neuer Tombe deserued better to bee crowned then that of this great Prince, who hath crowned all the actiōs of his life with immortal crowns of glory & reputa­tion. But if they should giue him as many as they did nomber in Ptolomes pompe & at Syllas funerall, or as many as Nero de­dicated to Iupiter Capitolinus, and that they were fiue or sixe cubits high, like vnto those which Greece presented vnto Bere­nice vpon golden Chariots, they should neuer equall the esteeme of so many tears which haue beene poured foorth vppon his death.

To the glorious Titles of most great, most happy, most victorious, the sword and buckler of Christendome, the lightning of bat­tailes, the Eagle of armes, the Phoenix of Captaines, the Loadstarre of Kings, Trueth addes for the most glorious that of, La­mented of all men, for he must haue great and eminent quallities whom all men shal lament, a generall admiration doth pre-suppose [Page 162] more then common vertues; and common teares argue a generall losse

The world shall end before they will leaue to lament a prince which hath been the ornament therof. Time which cureth the deepest wound will make ours incura­ble. Let mens harts sacrifise to constancy in another season and let them obtaine of reason that which they cannot hope for of time, in this the glory of teares is in con­tinuance to satisfie such as did thinke that there was nothing whereof the mind of man was sooner tired then with heauines, nor springes sooner drawne drye then that of teares.

There will alwaies be in the reuolution of ages, some Alexander to honor Achilles tombe, alwaies some Cesar to renew the mourning for Hector, wee shall not bee able to staye his teares in considering his owne disabilitye to doe that which this Alexander hath done.

[Page 163] These teares which flow in so great abun­dance, haue no other spring then the in­credible bounty of this Prince; neuer peo­ple sorrowed for them that were haultie and difficult, who haue alwaies pride in their forhead and collor in their eyes, ser­uitude is not more intollerable vnto them then pride.

Roome being bound to the birth of Ro­mulus, to the piety of Numa, and to the va­lor of Tullus, had the roialty of it selfe and the names of Kings in contempt, when as she saw her selfe imperiously commanded by Tarquin, in whose excesse she did only consider his pride, and comprehended all vnder the name of proud which shee gaue him.

People flye from those Princes which neuer leaue to bee solitary, but to make all solitary, which goe not forth of their Palaces, but like Lyons out of their cages, to feare some and to hurt others.

[Page 164] We should neuer grieue for a seuere, cruell and inhumaine Prince, our teares should be fained and forced; but for so good and milde a Prince, so louing to his people, so much beloued of all, and so respected of strangers, the sorrow can neither bee ex­prest nor limited.

Prodigy of our dayes! this great boun­tie which did merit to see the sun of three ages, which had beene respected among the Scythians, and had forced them to loue it, is lost among the French. Shall it bee said, that France, alwayes barren in monsters, shall be come both the Mother and Nursse? shall she be defamed amongst all the nations of the world, to haue slaine two Kings one after another? The Angels reioyce infinitely, when as they vnder­stand that men haue done any thing that is good, but how much are they gree­ued which haue a perticular care of this Crowne, which haue fought by our Kings to saue it; who desire to haue their [Page 165] ruines repayred, and who knowes that the walls of the heauenly Ierusalem must not bee built but with this sand and lime, when as they see that it serues for the Ba­bilon of hell, and that the first and good­liest realme of religion doth produce these monsters.

If this crowne were electiue, they should not finde any one that would accept ther­of to runne this fortune. After the death of Cleolulphus, the realme of Northum­berland was deuided into many factions, seauen Kings in a short time were slaine or expeld by sedition.

They that would not indure Kings, subiected themselues to the discretion of tyrants: good Princes did abhorre to command a nation which gloryed more in killing then obeying, it remained thir­tie yeares as it were in prey to the first Inuader, the Danes enterd it, and were ex­pelled by the Saxons, who in the end ad­ded this Crowne vnto theirs.

[Page 166] Alas! France is well purg'd from this reproach, and her teares haue washed a­way this infamie. Shee hath powred out a thousand execrations against this de­testable paricide, shee hath cursed the day of his birth, and doth not suffer any other remembrance to remaine, but of the iust punishment which hee hath suffered.

By the aboundance of the teares of France, wee may iudge of the excesse of her sorrow and losse, wee neuer grieue for that which wee care not to loose, nei­ther doe wee hold that lost, which wee hope to recouer, but shee hath lost so good a Prince as wee must neuer thinke so see any thing equall to his bounty, and wee must say vnto nature vppon her death, as was sayd vnto Nero vp­pon the ruine of his Pauilion; that the losse thereof would showe his disa­bylytie and weakenesse, beeing vn­able [Page 167] in a long time to produce the like. With the same passion that men grieue for the priuation of things of great price, they sorrow for those which haue beene well beloued.

Hee that shall know that this Prince liued in his Realme like the head of a Family in his house, and that hee was beloued of his Subiects, as a Father of his Children, will not bee ama­zed at the teares of the French, ne­uer eyes powred forth iuster teares, nei­ther were hearts afflicted with iuster sorrow.

If wee bee bereaued of the sweete light of our eyes, why should wee not complaine? If they haue clipt the wings of our hopes and prosperities, why should we not cry out? if they haue drawne forth ourbowels why should we not feele it?

Can wee dissemble such senci­ble [Page 168] greefes? can any man touch such pain­full wounds and not be mooued? what proportion of Equity and Iustice is there in that law, which commands to loue and forbids to lament the losse of that which wee loue?

If the Egiptians wept threescore and twelue dayes, for the death of their King; if that of a good seruant was so greeuous vnto Alexander as the whole army carri­ed the markes of his sorrow; if for the death of Masistius the towers of the towne were beaten downe, Carthage caused her walles to bee hanged with black, if Babi­lon ordained publicke cessations for the death of her Kings, and if in these sorrows the Pagans were ashamed to eat for that they would not seeme to be touched with affections and the care of life, what shall France doe to witnesse that which she suf­fers in the death of her King and Father?

If she did not weepe for this Prince, I know not for whom she should not spare [Page 169] her teares, if shee should forget him, I know not of whom shee should haue any remembrance. As among the Romains hee was held for prophane which had not in his house the portrait of Antho­nine; so shall hee vnworthily carry the name of a Frenchman, which shall not preserue in his heart the Image of this great King, a true Anthonine in clemencie, a Traian in bounty, an Augustus in wis­dom, and a Caesar in valour. Armies will alwaies la­ment their generall, the Sciences their restorer, France her King, Kings their Captain, people their Father, the Church her eldest Sonne, Christen­dome her protector, and Europ her ornament.

The conquest and restoring of France, & the set­ling of peace and quietnesse in Christendom, haue giuen him a greater reputation throughout the world, thē Caesar euer purchased in 52. battels, Mar­cellus in 40. and Scipio in the taking of 152. townes, and therefore the more that wee consider what hee hath bin, the more we grieue for that he is no more, the more our eyes were pleased with this sweete light, the more troublesome the Eclipse thereof is.

But this sun is not quite gone, it hath but past, we see this Phoenix rise out of his ashes. In the Fathers [Page 170] West, we adore the Sonnes East. It is the same Egle which hath renued his plumes: we see the same ma­iesty in his fore-head, the same mildnes in his eyes, the same quicknes in his actions, the same designes in his inclinations, the same hopes in his words, and in a maner the same promptnesse in his replies.

That great and incomparable Princesse his Mo­ther reuiues in her regencie the raigne of this good King, who hath left vnto her wisdom and felicity, and the same instruments which he vsed in the go­uernment of this Monarchie; The affection which he bare vnto his people remaines in the King his sonne. As God could not more aduance the fortune of this Princesse, then in making her wife to so great a King, so could he not place her vertue vpon a greater Theater then in committing to her trust the instruction of the King and the gouernment of the Realme. Let the Father liue in heauen, and the Mother and Sonne long and happily on earth, while that they shall continue happy, France cannot be vnhappy.

FINIS.
THE TROPHEIS of the …

THE TROPHEIS of the Life And TRAGAEDIE of the Death of That Vertuous and Victorious Prince HENRY the GREAT Late of France and Nauarre.

TRANSLATED and Dedicated To the L: Vis-Count Cranborn.

By Ios. Syl.

To the Right Honourable the Lord Viscount Cranborn.

BEsides old Bonds which my best Vowes engage,
To your deere Parent; and besides the Due
Which to your Selfe might iustly thence accrew;
Th' apparant Vertues of Your April-age,
Challenge of right this Poëms Patronage:
The rather, sith we first receau'd from you,
The speedy Notice (no lesse quick then true)
Of HENRY'S Death, through Hells despightfull Rage.
You saw this Sunne, at his High-Noone-shine Set,
In sodaine Clowd of his owne Royall Bloud.
O Horrid Hap! Who euer can forget
Such Fate, such Hate, of one so Great, so Good:
O iust Reuenge, roote out th' Ignatian Pack,
The Moule that moou'd in Faux and Rauaillac.
Iosu. Syl.

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

SInce first Apollo lent the world his light,
And Earth empregned with his heatful might,
Europe hath seene no Potentate, no Prince,
To Paralel great HENRY'S excellence.
No Terme, no Time, his fresh renowne shal shed,
Neuer was King more deere, neuer more dread.
Phoenix of Kings, wonder of Christendome,
Passing all past, and without Peere to come;
His Courage only match His Clemency;
And should his Tombe to These Two equall be,
Both Spaine and France, could not contain the same,
Which haue so often seene his feates of Fame.
His Life's a lampe to Princes, and a line,
A Trophey rear'd by miracle diuine:
A Theater to all the Vertues built,
A goodly Garden with such plenty fild,
Of choisest fruits and flowers that chusing, there
Aboundance troubles more then Want else-where,
The yeare that EDVVARD in Great Brittaine dy'd,
That France (beyond the mountaines) Spaine defi'd.
That Therwin walls were thundered to the ground,
That a faire flower our Royall Hymen Crownd;
I'th winter Solstice (when the yeare is worne)
Within Pau Castle This young MARS was borne.
Borne for the Worlds Good, as his Enterance
Presag'd him then the HERCVLES of France;
To re-aduance her Lillies long decayd;
For as (by chance) bare-head, abroad he playd,
At fower years old, a Snake he finds and kills,
At forty, foiles the Hydra of our Ills.
Nor was He bred in soft delicious wise,
(Which formes young Spirits into the forme of Vice,)
His Grandsire vs'd him to all Weathers Ire,
His Saulce was Labour, Excercise his Fier,
His noble Heart did neuer ought inflame,
Saue Heauens desire, and th'Honour of the same,
Scarce fourteene times had he beheld the birth,
Of th'happy Planet (which praesag'd his Worth,)
Predominant in his Natitiall;
When he became an Armies Generall,
Whose hottest flame, without Him was but fume;
Nor, but by Him, durst any good presume.
Hee purchast Peace, the which eft soones was stain'd
With His Frends blood, and his young soule constraind
To faine some Change of His Religion:
At Vinsein: Castle He was sea'zd vpon,
And to the Court confin'd; where, discontent,
His Spirit droopes, out of His Element.
Escaped thence: with restlesse toyle, He tends
To saue the Syde of his Aflicted Frends;
By peace againe he bringeth all in vre:
And Mcuusieures death doth well his Hopes assure
Of th'after Crowne, who but betweene him stood;
So, now was Hee the first Prince of the Blood.
Then from a farre he doth new Stormes descry,
To threat his fortune, and his force to try:
Hee meets the danger with vndaunted front,
And in fower yeares beares ten braue Armies brunt,
All with the might of a great Monarch grac'd,
Whereof, at Coutras hee defeats the last.
At last the King to extreame Streights reduc'd,
In doubt of all, and daring none to trust,
Implores This Prince, who rescues him from Tours,
With iust Reuenge; and had yer many howers,
Re-humbled Paris to her Princes yoake,
But for Saint Clements Paricidiall stroake.
After which stroake (which all true French-men hate)
France sadly falls in a most wretched state:
Who hath least Reason, hath most Insolence;
Who hath most Power, hath least Obedience:
Nor Awe, nor Law; disorder euery-where:
Good without hope, and wicked without feare.
Rebellion spaunes as fast as (in the Spring,)
Fruit-fretting virmine; it doth Discord bring
In families, dearth in Townes, death in field,
O! happy you who neuer daign'd to yeeld
Vnto that Hagge, but Loyall to the Crowne,
Haue left you Heires, Heires of a true renowne.
Who coumpts the cares that on a Crowne doo wayte,
As well may number Autumnes fruitfull fraight,
And Flora's too. Yet this great spirit of man,
Mid th'ebbs and floods of This vast Ocean,
Seemes a tall Ship, which maugre Winds and Waues,
In wished Hauen her and her Burthen saues.
Hee's neuer idle, nor his Excercise
Other then stands with princely offices:
MARS, and DIANA, and CVPID wayte on Him:
Maugre his Losse hee alwaies gaines by Time.
Vnto Affayres his eares are open aye,
Nor waytes hee lazying on his bed for day,
Shafts, Tigers, Torrents; no, nor lightning flyes
More swift about then This bould Aegle plyes
(Amid all perrils) to preserue his State,
With Heed and Speed, from Rebells Pride and Hate.
In Battailes first, last in Retreats: in briefe,
In Action, Soldier, in Direction, Chiefe.
Diepe saw his Fortunes on a desperate Dye:
The League presum'd hee needs must yeeld or flye:
But, as a Brooke the more wee stoppe his Course,
Breakes downe his Bay, and runnes with swifter Force,
He foiles his Foes at Arques, and shewes them plaine
That Heauens iust hand doth His deere Right sustain.
Tis buzz'd in Paris, and beleeu'd in part,
That hee is taken; or constraind to start
From Diepe to Douer, to seeke Englands Ayd;
And, while Him comming Prisoner-wise, they sayd,
To the Bastile; He came and ouercame
Their Suburbs soone, to their Suborners shame.
Conquest attends him, whether he encamps,
Or marches on: againe he takes Estampes:
Lizieux, Eureux, Mans, Meulan, Vandosme, Perch,
And Honfleur, formost in His Trophie march;
As earnest-pence of His recouer'd State,
And Crowne of France, which well admits no Mate.
Tyber and Iber then together flow,
(Too strong in wrong) his Right to ouer-throw.
There prowdeth Power, Heer Prowesse brighter shines,
And dayly shewes vs by a thousand Signes,
How great Aduantage a true Birth-right brings
(Against Vsurpers) vnto lawfull Kings.
In IVRY Fields, hee seemes a Blazing Starre;
Seene in the Front of all his Hoast, a farre▪
Maiestick Fury in his Martiall Face,
The brauest Troopes, 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,
Louuiers lyes humbled at his Conquering Foot,
Noyon lamenteth her Three Succors rout,
Espernay yields her wholely to his hest,
Dreux twise besieged, opens as the rest.
The League that late so violently burn'd,
To a Cold Feuer now her Frenzie turn'd;
And trusting still in Strange Physitians ayde,
Neglects her Care till all her strength decaid:
In dread of all, In doubt her owne will quaile:
As a weake Ship affraid of euery Saile.
That (late) ACHILLES of the Spanish-Dutch,
Farnezean Parma that atchieu'd so much
In Anwerp's Siedge, by match-lesse Stratagem;
And weend the World had had no Peere to Him:
Had heere the heart, twise, to refuse to Fight;
And twise departed and bod none Good Night.
Fortune, for Him, no longer vs'd her Wheele,
But, kinde and constant, followes at his heele:
Hee's happy euery where, and ouer all
Spring Palmes and Lawrels: onely neere Aumale
A murderous Bullet put him to some paine,
Yet hindred not His Rescue of his Traine.
Who weens to vanquish Him, makes Him invict;
Milde to the Meeke, to Proudlings sterne and strict:
Hee loues the Lawrels without bloud be-sprent,
A Cruell Conquest Hee doth euer lament.
His Thunder batters but Rebellious Walls,
And who least fear him, on them first hee falls.
France, Selfe to slay, and her owne Throat to Cut,
Armes her owne hands; and (in strange rage) doth put
The Knife to whet, in Spaines ambitious pawes;
Spain that would Spoil her Crownes primordiall Lawes
And would a Scepter with a Distaffe blinn:
But all in vaine: The Lillies cannot Spinn.
Re-Romaniz'd, so (say They) Heauen coniures;
His Errors at Saint Denis hee abiures:
This Change, in Court Yet chang'd not one nor other;
For, though his Subiects haue not all one Mother,
Hee holds them all his Sonnes, They him their Sire;
And Christians all, all to one Heau'n aspire.
Within the Temple of The Mother-Mayd,
That bore her Sonne, her Sire, her God, her Ayde,
With Heau'n-sent Oyle hee is annointed King,
Donns th' Order-Coller; and by euery thing,
To prooue in Him, Saint Lewis Faith and Zeale,
The Sick hee touches, and his Touch doth heale.
By law of Armes, A Citty tane by Force,
Should feele the Victors rage, with small remorce;
Paris so taken, is not treated so:
Though well his Iustice might haue razed lowe
Those rebell Walls which bred & fed These Warres;
To saue the guilt-lesse, hee the guilty spares.
There, There's the Hope and Safety of His Side;
If There hee faile, then farewell all beside:
The Spaniard therefore Thither speedy sends,
A great strong Conuoy to confirme His Friends.
Which soone defeated: There began the End
Of Ciuill Warrs, and all to Vnion tend.
Th'Honor of sauing and restoring France,
Is not alone due to His Valiance;
His Clemencie hath part; which lets him in
To stronger Holds, then all his Armes could win:
That, satisfied with Teares; makes from all parts,
Repentant Rebels yield him vp their Hearts.
Lyons, the Porter of one Part of France,
Rouen that sees none like strong in ordinance,
Orleans, which England did vndaunted prooue,
Marseillis, iealous of old Neptunes loue,
Aix, Bourges, Sens, Meaux, Poictiers, Troy, Thoulouse,
And Reins; of These, each to his Bountie bowes.
This gratious Prince excus'd the simpler sort,
Whom (Malice-les,) blinde Passions did transport,
Against the Lawes, with fury of the Tyme,
Who selfe-affraid to faile in fowler Crime,
Seduc'd by others slye seditious Lore,
Followd (like Sheepe) their Fellowes straid before.
This heauenly-humane Clemencie of His,
Yet cannot shield Him from some Treacheries;
One wounds him in the Mouth and breakes withall
One of his Teeth, (ò Act vnnaturall!)
And had not God in part put-by the blowe,
Euen then in Paris had hee perisht so.
But, hauing quencht the Ciuill Fiers in France,
Gainst his ill Neighbors now his Armes aduance;
In Piedmont-Fields his Lillye-flowers he plants,
Pills Bourgognie, and all Artois He dants,
And makes the great Castilian M'ARS to flye,
With Feare within; without, with Infamye.
Then those great Warriors that had disobay'd
(Whom not their Courage but their Cause betrayd)
Which came with shame and sorrow (as was meet)
To cast their swords at his victorious Feet,
Fearing his Rigor: He receaues them (rather)
With King-like grace, and kindnesse like a Father.
Heauen dayly works, for him, some special Miracle,
His Faith's an Altar and his Word an Oracle:
His greatest foes haue neuer found him fayle,
And should Sincerity, in all men quaile,
Exiled from the World (as Moores from Spaine)
In This Kings soule she had been found againe.
Spaine by a train of many Wyles wel layd,
Surpriseth Amiens, France is all affraid:
The Spaniard, hence prouder then euer, swells,
Vndaunted HENRY Thence him soone repells,
Re-gaines his Citty, and constraines His foes,
To begg their Peace, or to abide his blowes.
The Stormes that long disturbd the state are val'd,
Th'ill Vapors now are from all hearts exhal'd,
And France is now all French euen all about:
Only the Breton stiffly yet stood out.
But those white Ermines at the last must need,
Of th'only Sent of the faire Lillies feed.
Old PHILLIP longs to see the Waters calme,
Finds all designes vaine to supplant This Palme;
Sith the more shaken, it more fast doth grow:
Hee seeketh Peace, the Pope solicits so,
Veruins doth treat it, Bruxells sweares it donne,
And PHILLIP pleasd departs the World anon.
France yet retaines one sensible Offence,
For which she vowes Reuenge or Recompence:
Among the Alps her thundering Canons roare,
Proud-browd Montmeilan flaunts and vaunts the more
To stop her furye, but in fine is faine,
To rue her rashnesse and repent in vaine.
God hastens his owne Work: This Monarch marries
In Lyons Church, the choice, the Chiefe of Maries;
The Heauens delight, our Lillies ornament:
Loue, in one hart two louely Soules hath blent,
Whence Peace is more confirm'd, and Discord, dasht
For; by This knot many great Plotts are quasht.
At Fountainblean (a Paradise for scite)
She brought him forth his Dolphin, his delight,
Whose tender youth giues happy hopes of Worth;
One Daughter also did she there bring forth,
And two Sonnes more (Supporters of the crowne,)
Two daughters more, Paris for birth doth owne.
His Clemency hath conquered Rebells rage,
Made of dis-loyall loyall Vassalage;
Yea forced Wills by Pardons and by Grace,
The proof wherof is writt in every place:
Through al the Townes of France both great & smal
Where, for Reuenge, Reward was daign'd to all.
Once, only once, his Mercy admirable,
Was deafe to Biron and inexorable;
Sith when he might, his hault despight would none,
I wonder not to see that Myrmadon,
In the Bastile, a shamefull death to beare:
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 knowes the driftes, and knowne disolues the same
As fast as fire melts Lead within the flame.
His voice alone, as Dust cast vp aloft,
Breakes Hornets buzzing and their swarming, oft.
Discord disturbing holy Churches rest,
Twixt Rome and Venice did debates suggest:
Ambition set in foote, free-swelld with hope,
To bridle both the Senate and the Pope;
Both prest to fight: His Prudence reconcil'd,
Their Difference, and did their mindes remyl'd.
He relisht now the harmeles Sweets of Peace,
Willing his People should pertake no lesse;
But yet some-where he feeles a Thorne to prick:
To plucke it out he armes and marches quick
Euen to the Frontier: There attaines hi's will,
Wisdome (so) fitly takes her Season still.
You Nations, that for forty yeares haue seene,
BELLONA'S Tempests and fellt MARS his Teene;
That for your Liberties haue pawnd your liues:
If freely now you ioy your Wealth, your Wiues:
If now your Trades into the East you bring,
(Vnder Heauens Kingdome) onely thanke This King.
Thus heapt with Honors, This braue King is loath,
That his braue Knights, effeminizd by Sloath,
Mid Games and Dames, during so long a Peace,
Should stil lye still in Citties pomp and ease:
Therefore he rears an Army strongly dight,
In Gulich's Claim, his wronged friends to right.
A noble Prince, whose Prowes and Prudence, late
Buda admir'd, and Rome hath wondred-at
(The Honor of His Time) was Generall;
So stoard with Gould, with Gunns, with Armes, with al,
That neighbor Princes were all in alar'm.
Yet Them This Thunder brought more feare then Harm.
Feare-les it Marches, and respect-les threats,
What-euer Log that its free Passage lets;
Gesture and voice already skirmishing:
And vnder Conduct of so braue a King,
Great-Brittains, Germans, Switzers, Belgians,
Serue all the Greatnes of the Crowne of France.
Els-where the while, The Duke that rules the Alpes,
Seemd t'haue his heart no more beyond the Calpes,
Braue noble heart, Saxonitally-Franch.
Fuentez, affraid, with shoulder-shrincking wrench,
Doubts least that Milan stoop to France again;
And CHARLES prouoked proue the Skourge of Spaine.
Heauens now, to Crowne his Tropheis, had set downe,
That at Saint Denis he his Queene should Crowne
With royall Diadem; and in one Day
The State, the Maiesty of France display.
Nothing but Great, but great Magnificence;
But MARIUS Grace excell'd all Excellence.
Hence, hence false Pleasures, Momentary Ioyes,
Mocke vs no more with your illuding Toyes:
A strange Misshap hatched in Hell below,
Hath plung'd vs all in deepest Gulfe of Woe,
Taught vs, that all Worlds-hopes as Dreams do fly,
And made vs all, Cry All is Vanity.
At th' Euenings-fower, forth from the Louure road
This mighty Prince (without his Gard) abroad
To see his Arsenall: To his Caroche,
In a streight lane a Hell-hound durst approach,
And with a Knife, twise stabbing, killd him quight,
Turning that fairest Day to foulest Night.
Twice did the Monster stab, for els, the first,
Had not bin mortall; but the Knife accurst
Thrilling his Lungs, cut at the second stroake
Th' arterial vein, whose blood-flood soone did choake
The peer-les Prince; His dying Eyes and Heart
Imploring Heauen, soone did his Soule depart.
Fell Tigre, tell vs, tell vs Why, or Whence,
Thou durst (accurst) assalt so Great a Prince:
Wherein had He to Thee or Thine don wrong?
When once (yet This) Thou didst too-neer him throng,
His Gard rebukt thee; but He Them, for That:
Caus'd That Thy Malice, and His Murderous fate?
Fates ruth-les Law alots his royall brest,
To dye the death that CAESAR thought the best;
Death without sense of death, a death so quicke
It seldome leaues Kings leasure to be sicke:
Nor giues Him leaue of his sixt Decads date
To fill the Roule; but seauen Six Months did bate.
He, He that was the Hope, the Prop of His,
He that restored France to what it is,
He that confin'd the Power of Princes still,
He that Commanded Victorie, at will,
That was the Worlds delight, Kings glory sheen,
He, He receaues Deaths treacherous stroak, vnseen.
Th'vnhappy street where This fell Hap fell-out,
Where wofull Paris saw her Light put out,
Where cursed Iron pierc'd her Princes heart,
It shall no more be clept The Iron-mart:
It shall be calld The cursed Corner, still;
The Hag-street, or The Hell-street: which you will.
Lord! where wert Thou! When That disloyall wretch,
With cruell hand did Thine Annointed reach;
Quenching the Raies of Royall Maiesty?
No heart is hid from thine All-piercing Eye,
It sees the Centre, knowes the Thoughts, Yet thought;
Could it see This, and suffer it be wrought?
Hell oft before, out of his blacke Abisse,
Had spew'd vp Monsters to haue acted This:
But still thy hand from former wounds did ward.
And had he not still trusted to Thy Gard,
His Owne had waited Round about his Coach,
And This fell Tyger neuer should approach.
These Words, this rasher Words escapt my tongue;
When I beheld That Monarch layd along
Dead on his bed, so dead, so butchered;
I blamed Heauens, and Whispering soft, I said,
Because They stopt not This strange Hap before,
Their slumbering eyes now watch the World no more.
But, are mine eyes mine owne? Is This That Prince,
Which might haue made all Europe His long-since?
Had he not thought th'Empire of France inough.
That Lyon-heart, that Courage Cannon-proofe,
Which did so oft Impossibles atchiue?
I see tis He: yet scarce my sight beleeue.
Is This That Mighty King, Gods liuely Image,
To whome the greatest in the World did Homage?
In Peace a Doue, in Warre an Aegle quicke,
NESTOR in Court, In Camp ACHILLES-like,
That with a hundred horse a thousand foil'd:
That from most Dangers neuer yet recoil'd.
Geat Rome was strangely mazd and all a mort,
When She beheld her CEASARS bloody shert:
And say, Great Citty, how weart Thou dismaid,
When first thou sawst Thine HENRY sadly layd
Along his Coach, and Couered with a Cloak?
"I thought the Prop of all my Fortunes broak.
Those that haue seene in Townes surpris'd (while-yer,)
When to the Churches all haue fled for fear;
May well imagine Paris deepe Affright.
Nothing but shiuering: Nobles armed bright,
Clergy at Prayers, People weepe and houle:
And the Kings wound hath wounded euery Soule.
Paris in Honor of her peer-les Queene,
Had plotted Showes, (more pompous neuer seene)
As, rich to th'outward, rare to th'inward sense;
But all those Archs (Marks of Magnificence.)
Those Tropheis, Terms, Statues, Colosses, All,
Make but more Mourners at the Funeral.
I yeeld My Pencill: helpe APELLES, here,
To Limme (to life) Her dying-liuing Cheere:
Beleefe is hardly in Mans heart impress't,
Her Griefe more hard to be by Art exprest,
Therfore ô Queene! Great Stay, Great Star of France,
This Vaile I draw before Thy Countenance.
Heauen steel'd Thy Heart with Fortitude That Day,
Thy Courage kept the Kingdome from Decay;
And to the Throne Thy Sonne our Soueraine heft:
Though angry Fates of Father him bereft,
Yet Mercifull, they left him such a Mother,
That France could hardly haue beene ruld by other.
The soudaine Clap of This drad Thunder sounds,
From Alexanders to Alcides Bounds:
The Kings and Princes stand amazed all,
With horror of an Act so Tragicall.
Some Rest for-sake, others Repast for-beare,
And Each like Fortune to him-selfe doth feare.
So soudainly to see Day turn'd to night,
Tryumphant Palmes into Funerial Plight,
The Royall-Crowne to a deepe Mourning Vale,
A liuing King to a dead Corps and Pale,
Our Flowers to Thornes: seeme Tricks of Sorcery,
Wherein, Conceipt consents not with our Eye.
Yes, He is dead: and his eye-lids no more
To view this Light shall open (as before;)
Those louely Eyes the Load-stars of the Court,
Whose gracious glances on the Worthy sort,
Gaue Vertue vigor, and Whose awefull frowne,
Dis-dared Vice; are now Eclipst and downe.
Where are those ready Battaill-ranging Hands?
Those lightning Eyes whose wrath no wall with-stands?
That Voice so dreadfull to the stoutest hearts?
That Hart which wrought so many wonderous parts?
That piercing Wit dispersing Clouds of Doubt?
Where is that mighty King, so Fam'd about?
Inexorable Death! inhumaine, cruell,
Thou shalt no more reaue vs so rare a Iewell;
Nature hath broake the Mould she made Him in.
In all thy Triumph (trayling euery Kin)
Shall neuer march His Match, nor worthier Prince,
T'haue bin exempted from thine Insolence.
Ah! poore, weake Vertue, Zealous Loue of Thee,
Prolongs not Life, protracts not Death (I see)
This Prince that gaue Thee euen his Hart for Temple,
This Prince whose Raigne shal serue for rare Example
To future Kings, in future Things dismaid,
Should haue come sooner, or haue later stayd.
His Piety, was neither Fond, nor Faind;
His Prowesse, neither Feare, nor Rashnes staind;
His Prudence cleard his Councells, steerd his State;
His Temperance his Wrath did temperate;
His Iustice with his Clemency did Yoake:
Yet could not All free Him from Fatall stroake.
Inuincible in all: onely, the Darts
Which haue not spar'd the Gods immortall harts,
Haue often batterd His: but, by your leaues,
O fairest Beauties! (Beauty it selfe deceaues)
You neuer were the Souerains of his brest:
He You (perhaps) You neuer Him possest.
In Arms-Art, what Hee knew not, none can know't,
Neither attempt what Hee attempted not,
Reason was aye the Aime of His designes,
His braue Exploits (worthy immortall lines)
Shall furnish Theam to Thousand learned Clarks,
Whose Works shal Honor Him, He more their Warks.
His Royall Gests are euery-where extold,
Grauen, Carued, Cast, in Marble, Wood, and Gold;
His Life alone's an Historie admir'd,
Wherein all Penns, all Pencills shalbe tir'd,
In pourtraying all His valiant Feats to-forn,
Whose Tables euer shall all Courts adorne.
His Bounties Temple had a hard Accesse,
Not knowne to any but to Worthinesse:
That Gate (indeed) did seldome open quick.
His Liberalitie, (coy Beautie like)
Lou'd to be woo'd, prest, and importun'd still,
Yea, forc'd to giue, what glad and fain shee will.
Yet, by th'effects to waigh his Clemency,
Mee thinkes His Heart must more then humane bee,
Mee thinkes therein some higher Power did shine,
It surely seem'd celestiall and diuine,
And but I saw him dying, pale and wan,
I could haue scarce beleeu'd This Prince a Man.
Hee euer lou'd rather to saue then spill,
Not cimenting his Throne with Blood, with Ill,
Nor ween'd by Feare his Diadem assur'd
With Myldnesse rather grieued minds he cur'd
His Memorie did neuer wrongs retaine,
Beloued Kings (He thought) securest raigne.
Praise you This Bounty, you that past the Poles,
Bear Heauens Embassage to Belief-les Soules:
HENRY restor'd your Country and your credit,
Hee gaue you leaue ouer all France to spred it,
Restord you Bizance, and each pleasant part,
Left you his Court, bequeath'd to you his Hart.
If France now flourish, proyning round about,
Oliues within, and Lawrells all with-out,
If now, She giue the Law to other States,
If Peace and Plenty raigne within her Gates,
If now She feare no Ciuill Stormes againe,
These are the fruits of This Great HENRY'S Raigne;
If now Her Schooles with learned men abound,
If Her rare witts be through the World renownd,
If doubts of Faith be cleared and explor'd,
If Learning be to her dew Place restord,
If now Desert the charge in Church attaine,
These are the Fruits of This Great HENRY'S Raigne.
If now her Buildings passe for bewty farre
The Worlds old Wonders (which so famous are)
If Paris Thou be peerles to behold,
For State, for Store, for People, Goods, and Gold,
If in Thy Citty Citties sprout againe,
These are the Fruits of This Great HENRY'S Raigne.
If the French Scepter be now Selfe-entire,
Fear-les of Forraine or Domestick fier:
If France haue fellowes of ACHILLES Fame,
If now in France be nothing out of frame,
If now the Indies her Bastile containe,
These are the fruits of This Great HENR'YS Raigne.
If now we ioye to see our Country free
From Theiues and Rebells (which exiled be)
If Iustice now do keepe the lewd in awe,
If Desperate Duells be now Curbd by Lawe,
If now the Weake waigh not the Strongs disdaine,
These are the Fruits of This Great HENRYS Raigne.
If Merchants rich, If Magistrates be found,
If Officers like Emperors abound,
If pursie Lawyers liue Prince-like at home,
If now Inuentions to their height be come,
If now good witts finde where them to sustaine,
These are the fruits of This Great HENRY'S Raigne.
Who lou'd not Him, neuer beheld his browes,
Who knew his Fortunes, must admire his Prowes,
Who feard him not, His Greatnesse did offend,
Who weend Him to beguile, his Wisedome kend:
Who durst displease him knew his mercies store;
Who durst not speake his myldnesse did ignore.
Who waileth not his Death knew not his Life,
Glory of His and Others Enuie rife,
Incomparable, Admirable Prince
Excelling all th'old HEROES Excellence.
For His true Story shall their Fables shame:
Inimitable Life, Illimitable Fame.
O French-men, stop not yet your weeping flood:
This Prince for you hath lauisht oft his blood,
O! be not niggards of your Teares expence,
(Vaile heere, my Verse, doe ANNE a reuerence;
Rare ANNE that shames the rarest witts of Ours
Her diuine Stances furnish thee these Flowers)
The Heauens may giue vs all Prosperities,
Sustaine our State, remooue our miseries;
But cannot drye vp our Teares bitter streame:
In extreame Euills remedies extreame.
Restore our King, quick shall our Ioyes recouer,
Els, neuer looke our Sorrowes should giue ouer.
Each-where our Greife finds matter to augment it,
His Names Remembrance doth each where present it,
His famous Gests doe busie euery Sort,
Some tell his Warres, others his Workes report.
Others his Fauors past, glad-sad deplore;
Then, not to mourn, is not to minde Him more.
Ah! must wee liue, and see so soudaine dead
The Life that late our Liues enspirited?
Strike saile my Soule, let's put-into the Port,
While HENRY liu'd 't was good to liue (in sort)
But let vs after; sith Hee's reft of breath,
Desire of Life is now farre worse then Death.
Sorrow, with vs doth both lye down and rise,
Wrinckles our Browes, withers our Cheekes and eyes;
Wee shunn what-euer might our Griefes allay,
We wish the Night, w'are weary of the day,
Night brings sad Silence with her horrid Shade,
And euen her Colour seemes for Mourning made.
Extremest Woes yet are with Time ore-past,
Riuers of Teares are dryed-vp at last:
But neuer Ours: Ours, euer fresh shall flow,
Wee defie Comforts, wee'll admit no mo,
Nor seeke them, but as Alchimie profound
Seekes that which is not, or which is not found.
Who from the Ocean Motion can recall,
Heat from Fier, Void from Aier, Order from All,
From Lines their Points, from IRIS all her Dyes,
Perils from Seas, from Numbers Vnities,
Shadowes from Bodies, Angles from the Square,
May separate our Harts from Grief, our Mindes from Care.
He must be hart-lesse that is smart lesse found,
The Soule that is not wounded with This wound,
Most brutish, hath no humane Reason in't:
There is no brest of Steele, no hart of Flint,
But must be-mone so great a King, so slain,
Who would not waile a Gally slaue so tain.
Let vs no more name HENRY'S Kings of France,
Death with two Kniues, and with one shiuer'd Launce,
Hath killd Three HENRY'S: one at Iousts (in iest)
Th'other in's Closet, in's Caroach the best:
So, Three King RICHARDS; and Fiue Other crye,
Some fatal Secret in some Names doth lye.
What worse Disastre can you haue behinde
To threaten France, ó Destinies vnkind!
What greater Mischief can your Malice bring,
So good a Father rest, so great a King?
What will you more? Sith we no more can hope
For any Good that with This Ill may cope.
This noble Spirit doth to his Spring re-mount,
This Bounties Flood retireth to his Fount,
This Atomie to's Vnitie vnites,
This Starre returnes to the first Light of Lights,
This Ray reuerts where first it light did take,
And mortall wounds, This Prince immortall make.
Fare-well sole Honor of all earthly Kings,
Fare-well rare Prince for All kinde Managings,
Fare-well Great HENRY Heau'ns and Natures Gemm,
Fare-well bright Starre of Kings, Glories great Beame,
Fare-well sole Mortall that I keepe in minde,
Fare-well false Hope, Fortune, and Court vnkinde.
Heere, leasi Obliuion should vsurpe her roome,
FAME writes in Gold, These Lines vpon thy Toombe.
THIS PRINCE, VN-PEERD FOR CLEMENCY AND COVRAGE,
IVSTLY SVR-NAMD, THE GREAT, THE GOOD, THE WISE,
MIRROR OF FVTVRE, MIRACLE OF FORE-AGE;
ONE SHORT MIS-HAP FOR-EVER HAPPIFIES.
FINIS.

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