Mulier timens Dominum ipsa [...]bitur.

THE HISTORIE OF S. ELIZABETH DAVGHTER OF THE KING OF HVNGARIE

Written in French by Peter Mathieu and translated into English by S r T. H.

AT BRVXELLES By the Widdow of HVBERT ANTONY called Velpius An o. 1633

TO THE HON ble. THE LADY ENGLEFIELD THE ELDER, all happines temporall & eternall.

MADAM,

I hauing bin en­treated by a vvor­thy gentleman, to reueivv this abstract of a greater history, to the end it might passe to pu­blique [Page] vse; And finding (accor­ding to my slender skill in forraine tongues) that it pun­ctually agreeth vvith the Frēch, out of vvhich it vvas transla­ted into our vulgar: and iud­ging the subiect proper to our times, vvherein (as alvvayes) ex­amples moue more then do­ctrine to actes of piety: I vvas Zealous to further the presse, annecting an Appendix or ad­ioynder of mine ovvne poore conceits, as I hope, not vnpro­fitable to the Reader. VVhich done, I easily resolued to begge your La pps Patronage of so pious a designe, especially this [Page] great Princesse, vvhose exem­plar life is here abbreuiated, being one of the first branches of that spirituall tree of Sera­phicall S. Francis, vnder vvho­se shadovves you haue bin, and are vertuously conducted, in a penitentiall vvay to your great home; vvhere, by the infinite merits of our blessed Sauiour, you hope to enioy the revvard of your vertues, vvith other great personages of your fami­ly, vvho haue humbly passed their pilgrimage vnder the same rule, not vvithout note of sanctitie. I omit my ovvne titles of obligation, vvhich chal­lenge [Page] both my pen & person in all duty to your La pp. beg­ging of the diuine goodnes, vvho is the butt of your acti­ons, his blessing to all your good desires.

MADAM
Your La pps. humble beades-man. G. P.

A COMMONITORY TO THE READER.

MY intentions in exposinge to publique veiwe the life of this glorious saint, a knowne member of the Catholique church, is by facts to shewe the church, a posteriori, by the effects to shewe the cause; For surely god would not haue bene so so­licitous to reduce these wandringe sheepe to his sheepfold, as himselfe in holy writt by publique proclamation witnesseth. With an Oportet reducere &c. If he could haue fain­tes out of it. Neither doe I thinke that any protestants, excepte either weake or mali­cious [Page] puritanes, will not finde matter of edi­fication, and I hope much spirituall profitt, if piously, not curiously they obserue this great Princes vertues. yet its not obscurely known to men who desire more vnitie of spiritts, especially in matter of Religion, that there are too many, who soe much de­light in the breaches of the church, that they will haue noe Communion, euen with the wery saints begotten in her. These are they of whome Cassander sayth, that they soe hate the church, that they hate all good from her.

I must confesse, I delight not much in the society of those souldiers, who would haue (though only) the vpper garment of our sauiour deuided amongst them, which Euthimius calls his cloake, but I abhorre from those, who will cutt his tunica in-con­sutilis inner-coate, wich the Arabian inter­pretour calleth his shirte, or truet; which was in steede of a shirte beinge of wooll accor­dinge to the aunciēt and mystically without seame, without schisme, and soe to be kept accordinge to the Prophett, and subiect only to a Miserunt sortem, in soe much that [Page] the outragious Iewes themselues durst not aduenture to cutt it; yet I knowe there are too many cloaked vnder the name of christians, who would rathermake more holes then stoppe one, euen in our sauiours inner coate; of whome our learned Coun­tryman master Selden in his Prolegome­na de successionibus hebraeorum; Sui dun­taxat ingenij vi, sacras literas temere explicantes, ridiculis atque impijs pacem Christianam no­uationibus perturbare solere passim videmus their factious witts are made the touch-stone of our faith: what many of them deny to the whole church, They arrogate to their owne priuate spiritts, which is, to haue power to declare all dubious, and more hidden texts of scripture, and out of them to frame newe canons of beliefe.

Vincentius Lyranensis Chap: 26. tells you of them, and how to knowe them. Audies etenim quosdam ipsorum dicere, verite, ô insipientes, & miseri qui vulgo Catholici voci­tamini, & discite fidem veram, quam praeter nos nullus intelligit, quae multis ante saeculis la [...]uit, nuper verò reuelata & ostensa est: sed discite furtim & secretim, delectabit enim vos. Et item [Page] cum dediceritis latenter docete, ne mundus au­diat, nec ecclesia sciat: paucis namque concessa est tanti mysterij capere secretum.

See there, how he prosecuteth it and when you haue perused him well, iudge if it touch not to the quicke those factious spiritts, that desire nothinge more then separation, then sedition in christ his com­mon wealth: me thinkes in earnest, he hath them at euery tourninge, for their no­uelty; for their inuisibility, their singula­rity, their priuate spiritt, their clanculare conuenticles, their praeiudicate censures of all others, their refractary resistance of peace in Religion.

Saint Hillarius de trin: layes open the ground of their vertigo. In deflexu motu aduersandi studium persistit vbi non voluntas rationi subijcitur, sed his quae studemus doctri­nam coaptans. Truth and learninge must be­squared accordinge, to their inordinate af­fections, and not their affections by truth; they wrest the scriptures and fathers to their contentious ends. Omnes tument, om­nes scientiam pollicentur saith Turtullian, by their ouer-weeninge conceite of themsel­ues, [Page] they swell and must breake out into botches, and infectious gangrenes to the preiudice of the wholl body of the church.

Had there not bene those turbulent spi­ritts in our country, guilty of more will then witt, we might not in vaine haue hoped longe since, that most desired vnity in Religion.

Had they reuerently proposed venera­ble antiquity, they would haue found all the fathers most scrupulous in giuing the least (I doe not say) cutt, but stretch to our Blessed sauiour his mystically wholl coate, which is his church according to all the fathers. Wittnes Tert: de praescriptionibus although afterwards he vnfortunately cutt it in peeces. Ireneus especially lib. 3. Epiphanius de haeresibus throughout all, saint Hierome against the Luciferans howe zea­lously against Ruffinus, fearing least any breach should be made by him, though indeed his flawes were not soe dangerous. as for Patronizing Origen too much, as saint Hierome notes, Apol: 2. and falsely attributing some ill opinions of Sixtus the [Page] Philosopher to saint Sixtus Pope and mar­tir as saint Hierome notes ep. ad Ctesiphontem whereby saint Augustine was deceiued at the first, as appeares in his retractations li. 2. C. 46. and some other points. How feruent against Vigilantius, though I knowe the Magdeburgenses Cent 4. C. 8. would plead a not guilty for him, yea to haue bin too hard for saint Hierome: but the truth is, he was faulty in denying all honour to reliques as saint Hier: there con­futes him, and my Lord of VVinchester against Peron. Causabon against Baro­nius, super annum Domini 34. nu. 140. lear­nedly in the name of all England, ac­knowledge a reuerence due to them, as saint Augustine relates of the miracles done by the earth of the holy land, which Hespe­rius reuerenced worthily, as S. Augustine noteth. He was faulty also in denying the saintes in heauen to pray for vs, for this all learned protestant diuines allowe, as conformable to all antiquity. Howe care­full was saint Cyprian in this maine point, though once indeed he gaue a scratch to our Blessed sauiour his coate, yet he cutt [Page] it not, and as saint Augustine sayth, he re­united it againe with his owne blood. Saint Augustine in all places against all spiritts of diuision. Shall we heare a dismall sen­tence of his li. 4. Contra donatistas Cap. 8. Constituamus aliquem castum, continentem, non auarum, non idolis seruientem, hospitalitatem in­digentibus ministrantem, non cuiusquam inimi­cum, non contentiosum, patientem, quietum, nul­li aemulantem, nulli inuidentem, sobrium, fruga­lem, sed haereticum; nulli vtique dubium est, propter hoc solum quod haereticus est, regnum Dei non possessurum.

If he hath cutt our sauiour his wholl garment, he hath no shelter for nakednes, no defence against gods sentence of eter­nall death.

And herevpon we see, with howe great care haue generall and Prouinciall Coun­cells presently bene conuocated, to cutt of all springing haeresies at their first bud­ing. As of Arius the Nicen, in time of Sil­uester. Of Macedonius the first Constan­tinopolitan, in time of Damasus. Of Nesto­rius the Ephesine, in time of Celestinus. Of Eutyches the Calcedon, vnder Leo &c. In [Page] like manner we might descend by al cen­turies. Oportet quidem haereses esse, saint Paule hath taught vs, there hath bene and will be flawes in the church, but a heauy VAE is adioyned to them that make them. My desire therefore is, where I see any brea­ches not to stretch them soe farre till I make them greater, least saint Paul his VAE should lay hold on me, rather, if I can sowe them vp againe, this I conceiue to be opus sanctorum. This hath bene the imploy­ment of antiquitie, you knowe Salomon adiudged the childe not to be hers, who vnnaturally would haue had it cutt in pie­ces, that she might haue parte; and the holy ghost commends his wisedome. Howe much more will it argue the church, not to be his mother, who would haue her quartered? Vnum ouile saith christ. Our la­bour should be to keepe it one; So he left it. The woe lighteth heauily vpon those, who first broke it, and much heauier on those who delight in the breach. I find not our best Protestant diuines to deny many saintes to haue bin, euen in latter ages begotten and perfected in the church [Page] of Rome as of saint Thomas of Aquine, my lord of Chichester doubteth not to stile him saint, in his tracte of inuocation of saintes. So Selden de successionibus, saint Anselme so commonly stiled: S. Bernard, om­nium calculo, noe man so far callinge his owne iudgment in question, as to doubt of it. Soe doctour vvhite against vvhite dyed blacke; so my lord of Ely in his fune­rall sermon; my lord of VVinchester in his sermon of iustificacion frequently. Causab: in his exercitations. Whittaker de ecclesia. Saint Francis by very many, Pantalion in Cron: P. 95. saith he was a glorious saint. melancthon with many learned diuines in corpore doctrinae lypsiae. Saint Bonauenture ofen so intituled by that learned diuine, who put out Dieta salutis and Catena aurea taken out of this learned and pious saints greater volumes. Saint Brigitt by doctour Andrevves against Peron.

I could enlarge my selfe, but I haue ma­de choyce of these more eminent diuines, and those whome our country hath reue­renced as Illustrious Prelats.

I can not omitt one more Master Hac­clevvitt [Page] in his booke of Nauigations ac­knowledgeth saint Xauerius borne in these times, in this Centurie, to be a very great saint, and discribes many particulers of his life.

I must stoppe in a subiect soe obuious. I could wishe and so all good men, that there were more departinge christians, saints, then to vse the phrase of the Macha­bees, we should haue more louers of the bre­thren, vvho vvould pray much for the people, and for holy citty.

That is the church of god; as Iudas found a Ieremy. Mac. 2.15.14. for noe doubt in heauen they assist vs, and by their holy prayers, these diuisions in Religion would be cured, and an vnity concluded.

Thus far antiquity and, consent of holy fathers assure vs, as all learned Protestants agree, and in deed the creed declareth it, for there is, Communio sanctorum, a fellow­ship betwixt the triumphant and militant church which, must needs be by spirituall graces conferred By god vpon vs, by their prayers. So saint Gregorie Nazian: oratione 18. learnedly explicateth and piously [Page] beleeueth. Nay saint Nazianzen doth not only acknowledge that the saints pray for the church in generall, but euen for his par­ticuler flocke, as there he saith of his de­ceased father. Which passage of his, I must needs say, pincheth those who would haue only a generall intercession.

Neither is this all: Antiquity goeth fur­ther, saint Ambros, To: 1. l. de viduis saith, Obsecrandi sunt qui nobis ad praesidium dati sunt, martyres obsecrandi quorum videmur nobis quo­dam corporis pignore Patrocinium vindicare, &c. He saith more to the same purpose there. Neither did I euer read any learned man that doubted this booke to be his, except Master Perkins in his problemes, but with­out reason, only because there is a booke fathered on him vpon the Romanes, wher in the first chapter he seemeth to teach the contrary. But indeed it is cleare that this booke is not his but one Hillarius a Luciferan hereticke. I haue read that saint Augustine citeth that booke by the name of one saint Hillarius how euer it seemes sure not to be his, and the other sure to be his.

[Page] Saint Hierome in his funerall oration of saint Paula saith, vale Paula & cultoris tui vltimam senectutem adiuua orationibus. what can this be called but inuocation, saint Augustine de ciuit: Li: 21. C: 10. Vos non martyribus templa sicut dijs, & sacrificamus & oramus sed vtrumque in ordine ad Deum, see how warily and Religiously this great saint speakes, he denieth vs to pray to saints as to gods, for so the gentills obiected against christians as is cleare in him and in saint Cyrill against Iulian li: 6. yet he gran­teth expresly that we pray to them in or­der to god, which passage or distinction of his, me thinkes hath ended all the con­trouersy betwixte vs.

So that if any deny this I say as Causab: in his epistle to Bertius de Apostasia sanctorum, in hoc video nostros docere contraria antiquis pa­tribus: for surely this is against them, and therfore my lord of Chichester in the aforesaid tracte (a booke generally receiued in Englād) strongly sheweth, voluntary prayer to saints, not to be forbidden, and before him, Luther himselfe in his epistle to Georgius Spalatinus and master Bilne as fox noteth 462. and others.

[Page]These and many more points of diffe­rence, are now Ceased amongst the lear­ned; and indeed, I thinke many more, or all would Cease, if only Learned men should examine them.

But they must not be such who in con­tempt of antiquity, can publishe without blushinge a neglecte of the fathers, with Non ignoro aliter loqui Patres, as Kemnitius confidently doth. 1. P. examinus Trid. or the Non debetis credere patribus. as Pomecanus vpon Ionas. it is a gudgeon soone swal­lowed, but not easily disgested. For surely in the iudgement of the wise, it poysoneth the whole cause in hand; if we beleeue Vincentius Lyrinensis in his 40. and 41. CC. yet Caluin L. 3. C. 5. Contem­nes them all, and C. 24. exclaimes against them for giuing pernicious doctrine of the vncertainty of election: and was not this Nestorius his arrogancy when he saw antiquity was against him, to bragge that all the doctours before him vnderstood not scripture? as appeares in the councell of Ephesus: and yet from him the french diuines haue Learned, not only to ne­glect, [Page] but to brande their gray haires with the note of superstition; as you may see a whole tribe of them in Feuardentius in his Theomachia L. 11. de Purgatorio. These are not they per quos fiet salus in Israel. they are too hott spurred and ther­fore as Saint Paul saith, prurientes auribus, vn­setled in their tenents. But milde and set­led spiritts may finde the truth, and by them we shall hope for a reconciliation, to which we see many of the Learned happily to incline.

Againe to write the liues of saints, and so conueigh the memory of their great vertues to posterity, the holy scriptures did it in all the historicall partes, and Eccles. 24. aduiseth vs to it, Sapientiam ipsorum nar­rent populi, & laudes eorum nuntiet ecclesia, and it was the practise of antiquity. Did not Saint Gregory Nissen write the life of Grego­ry Thaumaturgus? Athanasius and Hierome of Saint Anthony the great? Seuerus Sulpitius of Saint Martine? Saint Gregory of Saint Ben­nett? Saint Bonauenture that great and de­uout scholeman (as Gerson stileth him) of Saint Francis that stupēdious cōtēner of the world?

[Page]But peraduenture it may be obiected that we are not assured this Blessed Queene to be a Saint. To this I answere, without all question she was a wery holy woman, gaue great testimonies of vertue, of the loue of god and her neighbour. And in these two are consummated, both lawes and prophetts; all Christian perfection if we may beleeue our Blessed sauiour. Thus the histories witnes of her; and what is most of all, its the esteeme the whole church of god had of her.

Which I therfore added, to preuent an obiection (which might be made) of a thiefe, who as it is recorded in Saint Mar­tin his life, was, being dead, esteemed à Saint, wheras he was indeed a wicked man: and to that text of Saint Augustine (if it be Saint Augustines) multa corpora Sanctorum venerantur in terris, quorum animae cruciantur in inferno. Many bodies are reue­renced on earth, whose soules are tormen­ted in hell.

But this is by my former clause aboun­dantly satisfied, for I beleene not that god will permitt the whole church, to erre in [Page] so graue a pointe as to take a diuell for a Saint; thoughe particuler churches and prouinces may be deceiued, as all diuines agree, neither did saint Augustine there intende any more, as Ambrosius Catharinus Couaruuias in his resolutions L. 1. C. 10. with Learned Corduba in his questionary, truly expound him: or els you may with Bellar: not improbably esteeme that he meaneth only those, whome the Donatists reuerenced as their Saints.

And indeed what wonder if we should attribute soe much to the whole church in so graue and important a busines, since after others, Learned Cunaeus in his Rep: Iudaeorum L. 1. C. 12. obserues out of the Thalmudists that the Priestes in the coun­cell of Sanhedrim had infallible iudgment to decerne an Adulteresse from the Inno­cent: and he addes the reason Sacrum quen­dam institutum non defuisse 70. senibus, postquam solemni actu impositae manus illis essent.

Thus he, grounded vpon gods promis­se in Pentateuch to the Synagogue; and can we doubt of the certainty of gods as­sistance to the church his spouse in decer­ning [Page] false and adulterate sanctity from feigned iustice and innocency? is the spiritt of god lesse powerfull, or carefull to di­rect her in so maine a pointe, as to knowe his heauenly guestes, from his, and her abiured enemies? or is it lesse behouefull for her to haue that sacred instinct or tincture of the holy Ghoste, since christ his handes were imposed vpon her solem­nely on the Cross? especially in soe du­bious a case, as to knowe whether she should celebrate the memory of the dead with thankesgiuing, as antiquity did of martyrs, or with horrour as they did of Apostataes and the like? me thinkes the shadowe should not exceed the substance; hauinge larger promises of the directiue spiritt of god then they, Paraclitus docebit omnia. is it not a good Consequece, if all, then this? neither doe I thinke my L. of Couentry and Lichfeild wil find difficulty in this: especially Thesi. 2. Fol. 365. se. 3. in his grande Imposture. My Lord of VVinchester deceased, plainly held it against Peron in the end, and so doth my Lord of London against Foster. and sure I am, Saint [Page] Augustine would haue presently subscribed to what the church soe generally should haue receiued.

Thus you see my grownds (good chri­stian reader), wherefore I haue perused and approued this history: my finall mo­tiue was that we may be incited to ver­tue, since it is an ornament for Princes Crownes.

And this is indeed the cheifest honour we can giue to saints, as saint Nazian: Ora­tione 18. speaking of Saint Cyprian. saith, the blessed Martir hoc dedit in mandatis com­manded by him that his honourers shall be his imitatours Chrys: ser. 1. de Martir: To. 3. hath to the same purpose. Saint Augu­stine ser. 47. de Sanctis, Solemnitates Martyrum ex­hortationes Martyriorum. the memories and solemnities of saints, are the instructions of sinners; their liues, our examples. Farewell. Let vs follow Saint Paule his counsell, Pray for one another, to be inabled to followe these Princely steps, this heauenly Kings high way to eternall happines.

Your Friend.

THE HISTORY OF ELIZABETH OF HVNGARY.

THERE was a tyme, when all the fauours of fortune rested in the family of the kings of Hungary, as all the fa­bulous Deityes were assembled to­geather in the Pantheon of Rome. It seemed shee brake her wings, that shee might not take her flight to any other place, & for­sooke all the powers of the North to become tributary to this Crowne. [Page 2] But in the end the blind creature (not esteemed a Goddesse, but by men who haue noe eyes in their soules) turned her backe to the Princes of this house, because they would not depart from the seruice they had vowed to virtue.

To iudge of the fall of this house by the height thereof, wee must reascend to this great king of Hungary, to whom in his life time trophyes were erected, & after his death, altars: And from thence descend to that young prince who in battell lost himselfe with his crowne, & left the fields of Varna perpetuallie dishonoured with the infamy of his defeate.

But betweene these two extrea­mes there are reckoned vp great felicityes, & among the most re­markable of them, this house is renowned for producing Elizabeth [Page 3] a Princesse, at this day wayted vpon by Angells in heauen, & sued vnto by men on earth.

There are noe perfect beautyes to be found, since hee who vn­dertooke to take the picture of one was inforced to drawe the mo­dell of an hundred different pieces.

But Elizabeth was faire, and in her all the exquisite & admirable perfections of her sexe were ordi­narie.

The beauty of the soule consi­steth wholly in vertue, that, of the body absolutely in grace, which dependeth not vpon equall propor­tions of lineaments, & colours of the face, but in a presence, which transporteth, & enforceth the eye to consider it as a visible effect, of an inuisible power of the soule.

Elizabeth was excellent both in the one, and other beyond all ex­ample, [Page 4] but of her selfe, to her selfe.

There was nothing soe diuine, as her soule, nothing soe goodly as her stature, nothing soe royall as her garbe, nothing soe beautifull as her face, nothing soe amiable as her eyes, nothing soe louely as her hart: Louely indeed, but not with loue which is the frensie of thou­ghts, the plague of soules, a follye inuented by vaine witts, & pursued by idle men; but with that loue wherewith Angells are inflamed, & Saints liue, being the fire of the intellectuall worlde as the Sunne is of the celestiall, & the elemen­tarie of ours.

But this being knowne that Eli­zabeth was admirable in the gifts of minde, and beauty of body, it suf­ficeth to tell you shee was the daughter of Hungarie; that Fraunce [Page 5] which adorned heads with the prime crownes of the earth, long time mainteyned that of Hungarie in the house of the Earles of Aniou, & that from those Bela the Grand­father of Elizabeth is descended.

Bela the third King of Hunga­rie maried Agnes sister of Phillip the second called Augustus, or Gods-gift, who espoused Alice of Hungarie: From this mariage issued Emerick & Andrew. Ambition which violateth lawes of piety, to mainteyne those of tirānie, armed Andrew against Emericke, to bereaue him of the crowne which the right of eldership, the lawe of the kingdome, the last will of his father had sett on his head, thinking that though nature had created him second, shee had afforded him courage, & merit enough to goe formost.

God who defendeth kings, who [Page 6] hath a perticular care of their crownes, & who takes their iust quarrells vpon himselfe, breathed the blast of his furie vpon the en­terprises of Andrew. For on the daie of battaile agreed on by the waie of armes, to determine a diffe­rence, which reason could not re­solue, Emerick apeared in the head of his armie, cloathed with royall ornaments bearing on his browe the crowne of the first christian king of Hungarie, & with it the diuine character which the finger of God had imprinted on the face of kings as a ray of his diuinity, to make them beloued of the good & feared of the wicked.

This Hercules (which the Pig­mies against whom hee sett forward, made appeare much greater) cau­sed his armie to march, not soe much to fight, as to triumph.

[Page 7]His enemyes; nay rather his mutiniers vnable to continue in the agonyes, and affrightments of their consciences, and hauing their eyes confounded & exteriourly abashed at the presence of the lawfull king, raysed their pikes vpright which they had bent against him, layed downe armes, & asked pardon of him from whom they would haue taken the crowne. They abandoned the fortune of Andrew, and submitted to the clemencie of Emerick, who hauing vanquished them without force would haue pre­serued them with sweetnes.

Hee was not willing to enter into his kingdome, otherwise then victorious: esteeming the virtue ve­ry miserable, which is not wayted on by envie, & caytife the fortune that is without enimyes: hee thought not his kingdome happie vnlesse [Page 8] clemencie beganne it, imagining that hee who taketh that, from the heart of a Prince, teareth the altar from the Temple.

The happy raigne of so good a king worthie to haue bene immortall, lasted not aboue eight yeares, sea­ven monethes, & sixe dayes. Ladis­laus his sonne succeeded for sixe-monethes onely. Andrew who could not gaine it by force of armes, ar­riued thither by order of successi­on, & was crowned in the great Churche of Buda.

He married Gertrude daughter of the Duke of Morauia, Carinthia, & Austria. Edwig his Sister was ma­ried to Henry surnamed Long-beard, Prince of Silesia & Polonia. By this his mariage he had fowre children Bela, Caloman, Andrew, & Elizabeth. The two first came to the Crowne one after another. Andrew depriued [Page 9] by order, & the lawe of birthright from hope of the kingdome, wan­dred vp & downe the world to seeke a fortune for himselfe, & his.

He rested at Venice, matcht in the house of the Moresini, had a sonne who more couragious then his fa­ther that stood amused in a com­mon wealth, (where poppies are not suffered to growe one aboue another) came into Fraunce, did notable seruices for the king, & those of the house of Croy consti­tuted generall of thir forces.

Elizabeth the onely Princesse made it appeare in the first yeares of her childhood, that she was cho­sen out by heauen to be one of the fairest flowers, which should on earth receiue the plenitude of its graces. At three yeares of age she was espoused to Lewis sonne of Herman, Lantsgraue of Hesse & [Page 10] Thuringia, who was said to discend from Charlemayne.

Promises were made with great ceremonie to honour her who knewe not what it was, and, who knowing it, made no more accompt of it, then the winde to breake a rush. At fower yeares of age she was led towards her espousalls, by the Am­bassadours of the king her father, & spent the yeares of her childhood in the exercise of piety, whereby, they might make a true estimate of the rest of her future life. It is a singular furtherance, & notable meanes for a princesse well borne, to receiue & learne the precepts of carriage from the hands of her mother; but Elizabeth, taken awaie so young into the house of a straun­ger, was depriued of this happinesse.

Notwithstanding she was there bred sutablie to the greatnesse of [Page 11] the place from whence she came, & to the excellencie of her wit she then learned that, (the ignorance whereof proues ill for a Princesse, who hath thoughts beyond the di­staffe, & needle of ordinarie wo­men) & knewe those things, wherein many great Princesses of that name became so excellent, that they tau­ght even kings themselues to liue.

Though she were yong, she made her selfe deafe & indocible to all discourse, but of heaven; she could not be drawne out of Churches, beginning early to purify her heart from all earthly thoughts, as gould is cleansed from drosse of the mine. Then did her gouernesse tell her the world was not worthy of her, that she was not made for the world, that her loue not vnlike the supreame elemēt, suffered not by Vapours, nor those infectiōs, which corrupt others.

[Page 12]When she was of riper yeares she framed vnto her selfe a rule of life wholly pious and deuout, nor was it by precedent or imitation, as there are many, who haue noe other touch of vertue, and piety then conformity of example; but vpon her owne choyce, & the mere motion of the grace of God.

Her exercise was entirely reli­gious so soone as she awaked, the first thought her soule admitted, & which swayed throughout the whole day, was the remembrance of death; then rysing out of bed, she repre­sented vnto her selfe the comfort, & infinite ioy of those, who at the sound of the trumpet shall rise againe to glory.

As many pieces of attire as she putt on, so many vertues wished she, for the beauty and ornament of her soule. When she was cloathed, [Page 13] she prostrated her selfe at the feete of a Crucifixe, renewing the homage of her heart to the goodnesse of God, giuing thankes for his benefitts, im­ploring his mercy for her sinnes, & his holy spiritt for her direction, protesting rather to dy, then to loose his fauour, the very life of her life.

As in the morning she meditated on that she was to doe, soe in the euening she required an account of her soule, of what she had done; she often fed it with the blessed Sacrament, the bread of Angells, the Manna of heauen, the restora­tiue of life, the soueraine remedy against death, the admirable proofe of the loue of God towards men; Who notwithstanding in stead of yeilding him thankes for so great a benefitt receiued, do now dispute, whether it be true that he gaue it.

All the day long she stood vpon [Page 14] her guard against the subtile snares of the world, from which she sought to disengage her selfe; she auerted her eyes aswell as her thoughts from all illusions, keeping her selfe very carefullie from tasting the honey of pleasures & vanityes of Court, more daungerous then that which bewitcheth men. If at any tyme she approached, it was but as the fly, which buzzeth about, & feares to rest vpon it, least he loose his wings.

The marriage treated in her child­hood was confirmed at such tyme as discretion made her capable of choice, or refusall: but it was done with so much coldnesse, that many thought, if she had not imagined, the dispose of her body was due to her father, shee no whit had feared to disobey him, to pursue the holy inspirations, which she now intertay­ned of continuing a virgin.

[Page 15]Of three conditions of the femi­nine sexe, there is not any one whose contentmēt hath not anxiety. If marriage haue fruitfullnes, it hath also corruption; If widowhood enioy liberty, it likewise suffers the sadnes of solitude: If virginity put on inte­grity, it liueth with the griefe of sterility. But Elizabeth better loued to liue a virgin then a mother, and hauing dedicated all her thoughts to virginity, she held it sacriledge to employ them on marriage; well remembring that many of her qua­lity had gone out of the pallaces of kings their fathers; not being able to preserue this flower, among the thornes, & bryars of worldlie vani­tyes, & the nipping frosts of its impietyes.

Transported then by two so powerfull lawes, the commaunde­ment of God, & authority of her [Page 16] father, she gaue consent to this match. The Landtsgraue brought with him as many graces as he acknowledged & admired in her: she likewise afforded him so much affection, that neuer were two hearts scorched with more ardent flames. It was thought her marriage mi­ght cut of something of the first seuerity of her life, and that she would begin to relish the pleasures of youth. But her heart, like a lampe perpetuallie burning before the face of God, shined not at all in the darknes of the brightest splen­dour of the day. Her eyes were wearie in behoulding things spe­cious, her eares displeased with harmonious, her tast with the most delicious, but her heart was neuer satiated with the loue of God.

This her triangle could neuer [Page 17] bee filled, but by this triangle. She stole the sweetest houres of the night from repose, to ly at the foote of the Crosse, & tast the bitternes thereof in the security of silence.

Sophia her mother in lawe, & Agnes her sister in lawe coniured her to forsake her scrupulosity; And will you Madame (said they) perpetuallie vse your selfe so cru­elly? Will you alwaies preferre thornes before roses? Will you be so sharp an enemy to your selfe, as to hasten your death at the ty­me when you ought to thinke vpon life? Since life is so short, that if the world be not seasonablie vnder­stood, wee dy before wee knowe it.

Her silence answeared for her, and her constant perseuerance gaue them occasiō to iudge what they mi­ght hope from such discourse. She cō ­tinued [Page 18] this kinde of life amidst all these impertinences; but auoided those deuotions, more faigned then holy, which seeme to transport into extasy the mindes of those which vse them to please the world, & to satisfy their owne hipocrisy. They are starres neither stable, nor fixed, in the firmament of true piety, ra­ther wandring fires, Comets, & ex­halations of the earth, which dissolue into the ayre of vanity.

The Court of this Princesse like­wise resembled not those, which were at that tyme said to be seas of dissolution, and which, as the Sea, were swolne vp with pride, foaming with exorbitance, & where vertue was perpetuallie in torment. Hers was a temple of piety, an Aca­demy of honour: her example per­fumed the most corrupted ayre, and breathed into the most wauering [Page 19] affections firme thoughts of virtue: with one glaunce of her eye, she led the rest along, and withdrew them from errour, which inticeth heartes to pleasure, hath its carreere of Ice, & in the end a precipice.

Her ladyes and maides were bred without curiosity, vanity, or nice­nesse; Their eyes by a modest dis­daine mortifyed euill appetites. And because the best borne natures by deprauation become worse then others (as the corruption of good things is worst of all) she had an infinite care this first integrity might neuer be dissolued. For which cause she exhorted them to hold the heart in liberty, the body in seruitude, and the conscience in repose; assu­ring them of the infinite content­ment they should one day haue, in seeing their sowles in heauen free from slaunder, & leauing their bo­dyes [Page 20] on the earth without infa­my.

She recommended nothing so much vnto them, as to stifle wic­ked thoughts in their birth; whilest the bramble is greene it may be eaten, but when it becomes big­ger, it choketh. When the spirit is caught in those first perswasions of loue, it resembleth the bird, which intangleth her selfe the more she fluttereth & striues to be at liberty. How many tymes did she tell them, the suits of men were to be sus­pected? that they were coales either burning, or quēched, & that the least we might expect from them was either to enflame, or besmeare: That the Panther was not soo­ner strangled in tasting Aconite, then the Soule of a woman by harkning to the discourse of a pas­sionate louer.

[Page 21]There are of them (said she) who boast to vnderstand without yielding, & to heare not delight­ing in what is sayed. If they be quick to desire, they are very reserued in making their desires knowne, they mocke at those, who haue neither eyes, nor eares to see or vnderstand such, as conspire against their honour vnder the sha­dow of affection. But the opinion they haue of their owne strength is a false gate, a drowsie sentinell which betrayeth, & suffers reason to be sur­prised. Ladies of this disposition ought to see them selues in the eye & fortune of others, and to belieue that which hath happen̄ed is nor im­possible to them, since they floate in the like Sea, & are tossed with the sa­me winde, & waues. And though they thinke their vessell stronger, & much better appointed, yet may the storme [Page 22] perhaps be more violent, the tem­pest more terrible, & the waues soe redoubled, that not knowing how to make resistance, they may be inforced to yeild vp their frai­ght to the tempest.

Implacable enemy of vice! she would neuer looke on those, who so much regarded the beauty of the body, to deforme that of the soule; natures ready, & apt for ill, stupid to good; that wound with eyes, deceyue with the tongue, and who are inforced by remorse of their consciences to become pale with griefe, ruddy with shame in good company; who (impudent as they are) sett that to sale, which admitts noe price, nor commerce in Soules that hold honour for the fift element of their life, & lastly who haue sworne to this false opinion, that the lawe, which obligeth a woman [Page 23] to loue but one man, is not made for those, whoe are worthy to be loued of many.

But because the greatnesse of her quality, & the condition of Court permitted not this Princesse to be perpetuallie for her selfe, to be euer retired, incessantly speaking to God, or hearing God speake, to her; yet did not her hart indure, that any should enioy her to preiudice the comfort & contentment of her minde.

If sometimes the Landtsgraue needs would open his heart to giue passage to pensiue imaginations, & to that end imployed the charmes of musicke, it was but in singing some holy poëme.

But in midst of most ordinarie sollaces her heart perpetuallie tur­ned towards the North of the crosse, her minde rested in the tranquillity [Page 24] of her thoughts; This muske ceased not to smell sweetly, euen in places least sauouring of piety. She neuer appeared in publique with orna­ments sutable to a Princesse, of so noble & high extraction, that she promised not her soule, to auenge it in conuenient tyme at the charge of her body, for all these vanityes.

Entring one day into the Church, vpon some solemnity which by the custome of the world permitted her not to be otherwise seene then well attired, casting her eyes vpon the Crucifixe, she sayed to her selfe; must my head sparkle with diamonds & pretious stones, my fingers with rings, & I behold on this crosse the head of my Sauiour crowned with thornes, and his hands pier­ced with nayles? Then prostrating her selfe on the earth, she besought God to doe her the fauour she [Page 25] might intermingle the acerbityes of the Crosse with all the felicityes the world could affoord her.

She knew heauē was to be opened with two keyes; the one of gould, which is prayer; the other of iron which is affliction: she carryed them both all the dayes of her life. Prayer was continuallie hanging on her tongue, & she euer hanging on the Crosse. The image of our lady of Hall neare Brussells came from her deuotion, & it is said, was brought thether by Sophia her daughter mar­ryed to Henry the 2. Duke of Bra­bant.

As she was indefatigable in prayer, so was she inuincible in afflictions: for her courage went before them: she held them as Embassages sent from Heauen; she receiued them answerable to the greatnesse & Maiesty of such a Monarch of the [Page 26] world, on whom all the earth de­pendeth who ill intreateth an Am­bassadour, plainely discouereth a neglect of the Prince, that sent him.

The life, which tasteth noe af­flictions is a dead Sea, which produ­ceth nothing. The Soule not visi­ted, is as abandoned by the Phisi­tian. The land where perfect con­tentment of minde groweth, is plou­ghed vp by the share of torments, sowed with ashes, watered with tea­res & hedged round about with thornes. And although she abode in the delights of the world, she no more tasted of them, then the fish of the Seas brackishnesse. The brightest dayes seemed duskie ni­ghts to her being rightly instructed, that he who will weare Coronets of flowers in this world, beareth those of thornes in the other, & he [Page 27] who soweth sorrowes in this life shall reape comforts.

Her nature was too generous, and too good not to resent the cruell, & tragicall death of the Queene of Hungary her mother, who was slayne by a hand furiously trans­ported with iealousy & reuenge, which drenching the Court in vn­speakable amazement, made her see, that by how much the more vio­lent the heates are, soe much the more impetuous are the windes; great afflictions fall vpon great pros­perities.

It was in the tyme when all Eu­rope stretched out a benigne arme to Christians, surcharged & oppres­sed in Soria by the armes of Infi­dells. The God of Hostes had giuen two blowes in fauour of the trueth of religion. One in Spaine against the Moores, who lost at the battell [Page 28] of Nauas two hundred thousand men astonished vpō the sight of the Crosse borne by the Archbischop of Tol­ledo, who marched in the front of the Christian army: The other a yeare after this in Fraunce against the Abbigenses, that were defeated with the Count of Tholouse their leader, & the king of Arragon their protectour.

These two victories obtayned, animated the Christian Princes to seeke out the common enemy at home, & to cast the fire of warre into the entrayles of his Empire. For which purpose, the Croisaide was resolued on & decreed in the councell of Lateran, one of the greatest & most eminent Assem­blyes that euer hath been in Chri­stendome: for besides the Embas­sadours from all Princes, there were two Patriarkes, seauenty Archbi­shops [Page 29] foure hundred and twelue Bi­shops, eight hundred other prelates.

First the zeale to the seruice of God, & next the compassion of the miseryes, which Christians suffered in Soria obliged Christian Princes to hasten to their ayde, since Ele­phants draw their fellowes out of the ditch, & Gilt-heads free their companions from snares.

Desire of glory & reputation which is the spurre wherwith these lyon-like hearts awaken, and doe incite their generous spirits, stirred vp the most religious princes to carry the Croisaide, esteeming it no lesse glory to raise the tropheys of the crosse on the frontiers of Egipt, then did Alexander by er­ecting two altars in the vtmost con­fines of the Indyes, & Hercules two pillars on the bounds of his naui­gation.

[Page 30]It was desired this enterprise might haue a Commander capable for the conduct of a roiall army, and to returne victorious. Andrew king of Hungary, & Transiluania by a common consent was chosen out for this charge, which he accepted with that content, wherewith the heartes of great Princes are euer possessed when they meete with oc­casions, which free them from pa­rity or corriuallship with others. It could not fall into better hands although in the pursuites of am­bition great honours willingly sub­mitt to those, who goe slowest, as the Hart many tymes yields him­selfe to the man, that least chased him.

Hauing then taken away all affe­ctions from his owne will, to become obedient to that, which God dis­couered vnto him by this election, [Page 31] he mustred all the forces of his king­dome, and thereunto added those of his neighbours, to ioyne with the Christian Army at Constantinople. He left the Princes his sonnes vnder the charge of the Queene his wife, & indeed all of them together vn­der the prudence & fidelity of the Count of Bankban, whom hee made Lieutenant Generall in high, & low Hungary.

His absence caused great griefe in his Court, but the arriuall of the prince brother to the Queene sweet­ned them, that so they might be seasoned with a strange bitternesse. He was of an age wherein lust be­gins to warre against vertue, & where with Hercules was forcibly assailed by attraction of the one, to for­sake the other. His heart was a for­tresse which as yet had neuer re­ceiued garrison, hee hauing preser­ued [Page 32] it in the first liberty of its birth-Loue surprised it by gayning the eyes, which were the sentinells.

He sawe among the Ladies of Court attending on the Queene his sister the Countesse of Banckban: He iudged her the fairest, & found her one of the wisest: Her beauty was not an vncomly hostesse in an hand­some house; For she obeyed vertue which held it in propriety, & ne­uertheles fell into discord with her honour. Loue against her liking & with out her consent made vse of her eyes, for all manner of artille­ry. They were fires to burne, ar­rowes to wound, burning mir­rours to turne the vessells of those into cinders, who vndertooke to sayle on this sea of the Courte, & loue. Yet neuer durst he at­tempt this Minerua, it being im­possible to finde her idle. The prince [Page 33] who ever had beene for him selfe, was now for her, so soone as euer he beheld her.

This passion forcing with its vio­lence, those things which cannot be inforced, commaunded its liber­ty to manifest its seruitude. He thought himselfe too couragious not to tell her of it, & her too cour­teous not to hearken to it. Princes, though all things stand faire for them, are not free from trouble in these first circumstances; for indee­de they thinke ceremonies are not made, but for such as are on equall termes; if they vse them, they vould haue them accounted an honour, that their intreatyes may com­maund, & that noe fauour be so great, which they must not buy at a costly rate.

The torment of the prince which should be lesse cruell discouered, [Page 34] then concealed, redoubled the vio­lence there of, so soone as his ton­gue had vnfolded to the Countesse the euill which his eyes had done to his heart. For this first view, which was but a single desire became all loue, & by these approaches, he tourned into fury, & an vniust cons­piracy against her honour.

The Countesse in stead of ac­cepting the power which the Prince offered her ouer his heart, made it appeare vnto him she neither re­garded his suite, nor affection, though it were the most ardent, which true loue might tender to a heart well beloued, and that hers could not receiue any impression, then of the lawfull loue of her husband.

The Prince meeting with such & soe couragious resistance, & despayring to ouercome this resolu­tion discouered to his Sister all the [Page 35] woundes of his soule, found noe comfort but in her affection, who shewed her selfe not insensible of his torment.

We haue often seene seruants, who haue betrayed their Mistresses, but it is a prodigious thing, when we behould seruants betrayed by their mistresses. Shee conspired in fauour of the Prince her Brother against the honour of the Countesse, and promised him to gaine her to his desire, either by loue or force.

The next ensueing night the con­spiracy was executed, the body van­guished the heart inuincible. There was but one night betweene this iniury, & the reuenge, which, tran­sported the Count of Banckban in to such furie, that earlie in the mor­ning he stab'd his dagger into the bosome of the Queene, who had beē a bad Mistresse to be a good Sister.

[Page 36]Heere it is where humane iudg­ment must strike sayle, and cast it selfe into the vast Ocean of those of the liuing God, in compari­son of which, the most cleare seeing eyes are Owles in the rayes of the sunne.

Of one same mother were borne two Sisters, Gertrude, who turned away from the feare & loue of God, & Hedwige, whose life was so reple­nished with piety, & adorned with so many vertues, that she hath beene canonized for a Saint; Sorro­wes violent & vnexpected are not for simple discourses. Those are not great which can be expressed. This accident by some esteemed parricide, by others iustice, offen­ded & scandalized the whole Court, & layed incurable woundes on the Sowle of the Princesse Elizabeth, but she for all that murmured [Page 37] not against God, whose wisedome she adored with all humility, hauing her eye in this mishap, noe more troubled, then her heart.

Time and patience, which cure all disturbances nourished, & gaue increase to hers

Shee not so much reflected on the death of the body, as she entred into strange apprehensions for the health of the Soule.

The Count of Banckban hauing sett the affaires of the kingdome in good order, his wife & Family into safegard, went to Constanti­nople to cast himselfe at the feete of the king, making him both iudge & auenger of the fact, which hee confessed to haue committed by a powerfull instigation, & for the which he at the least much repen­ted him.

Teares hastned in ayde of [Page 38] the words, which sorrowe stopped in his breast.

Yet for all this, amazement could not seyze on the kings heart, If he in middest of armes shedd teares, to vapour out his griefe by them the sorrowe to haue lost a good wife & his children a good mother, would make them to powre them out in aboundance.

He patiently heard the Count of Banckban and prudently, aun­swered, that at his returne he would vnderstand the trueth of this mat­ter; That those who are present neuer want excuses, & the absent euer suffer wrong. That he would heare his brother in lawe & the al­lyes of his wife. He sent him backe againe to continue his seruice. Al­though he were cōuinced by his ow­ne confession, & that soe straunge an act required some exemplar punish­ment, [Page 39] yet hee would not dishonour the happy beginnings of his voya­ge, by acts of such seuerity, nor leaue the army to retourne into Hungary.

The rendeuous was in Cyprus, all the shippes arriued there: It was aduised on what side the enemy should be assayled.

Particulier interest entreth into consultation with the principall of them. The king of Cyprus desires it may be vpon on side, He of Ierusalem hath designes vpon ano­ther.

The king of Hungary that knewe a Generall of an army ought to haue eyes in his shoulders, to leaue nothing behind, which might hinder him to proceede any further, was of opinion the fortresse of Mount Thabor should bee besieged. The Count of Tripoly diuerteth this [Page 40] resolution & caused the Army to march before Damiatta, hauing first attempted to surprise the Fort of Thabor, where blowes were giuen and taken at so small a distance, that the Infidells might see, not onely flyes, but euen the little Crosses, which were vpon the Christians Tar­getts.

The king of Hungary seeing the enterprises were mannaged without iudgement, & that priuate passions ouerthrewe the best Counsells in­tended for the publique good; that the most valiant stood more in neede of a Buckler, then a sworde, grewe into distast, and hauing left among the knights of Saint Iohn of Ierusalem great proofes of his bounty, as hee from them had re­ceiued of their valour & affection, hee returned into Europe, & left the charge of his army to those [Page 41] who resembled the prouince in which they fought, exteriourly hott, as being one of the nearest to the torrid Zone, & within extreamely cold.

After a ten monthes siege the Christian army entred Damiata, the first Standard which appeared on the wall was that of Florence, which at that tyme was a white lilly in a red field. The Conquerors for all their booty found nothing, but ri­vers of bloud, & heapes of the dead; for of seauenty thousand who de­fended this Citty there were rec­koned vp, but three thousand mea­ger discomfited Creatures, that looked like frightnig Ghostes.

The Christians kept not this Citty so long tyme as they had spent in taking it: For besieging grand Cairo, in the season when Nilus ouer floweth, they sawe them [Page 42] selues soe assayled by waters, that their victuall & munition being drowned, they could finde no sa­fety, but in a happy composition to depart, & yeild vp Damiata.

As Nilus tooke from them all meanes to drawe neare to the towne, so the Sultan of Egipt cut them of from all passages of retreate. Those, who heretofore commaunded with­out condition are inforced to receiue lawe of the enemy, who left them noe other fruit of their conquest, but the shame not to bee able to keepe what they had got­ten.

The king of Hungary, who could not triumph ouer his enemyes in the holy land, serued as a Trophey to the Princesse of Ferrara: For pas­sing through this Citty to Venice, and from thence to Insprucke, he sawe in her, perfections of beauty [Page 43] so admirable, & wonders of loue so absolute, that hee submitted all his affections to her power. His eyes had no other obiect, his fantasy no other imagination, his minde no other discourse, his heart no other conference, his mouth no other name, then of the Princesse. His memory was so replenished with her meritt, that it noe longer would admitt any thoughts of the tra­gicall death of his first wife.

Hee vnfolded his heart vnto her; Saying, his affection was such, that hee was wholly vnable to stirre any further, but to enioy the con­tentment of her company. Kings are neuer refused; Hee spake of it to the marquesse of Ferrara, and intreated he would giue him the Princesse his daughter to succeede, not to the vnhappinesse, but to the dignity of Gertrude his first wife. [Page 44] Hearts consenting, bodyes were quickly vnited, & the King of Hun­gary entred into his kingdome, with the sole triumph of the loue, & beauty of a worthy Princesse.

The first act after his mariage, and returne, was the processe against the Count of Banckban. The opini­ons of his Counsell being better pondered, then resolued, hee was freed, but in such sort, that the rest of his life was to him but a liuing death; for those who either through duty & affection were obliged to the memory, & ho­nour of the Queene prosecuted him in his person, his fortune, and his family as an execrable parricide, yea euen they, who had promi­sed the king neuer to search any further into the matter, redoubled their prosecution, thinking oathes might be broken without periury, [Page 45] and benefitts forgotten without in­gratitude, to maynteyne points of honour.

The king, who for the loue of the liuing had allmost blotted out the memorie of the dead, disposed his thoughts to congratulations of ioy vpon the Queenes entrance into his capitall Citty of Bude, which was at that tyme the theater of Northern magnificence, a City faire rich & great, bearing the surname of Attilaes brother, who caused it to be built on the banck of Danu­bius.

This ioy which soe puffed vp many hearts, shrunck vp with sor­rowe the heart of the Princesse Elizabeth, who was sent for by the king her father to entertayne the Queene, and to augment by her presence the comfort of his retur­ne from the Eastern warres. Shee in­forced [Page 46] her selfe, & accommodated the temper of her countenance to the humours, & contentments of the king her father, but in secret she still had in store new teares to bewayle this old griefe for the death of her mother.

It is not vntruely sayd, that one sorrowe ordinarily serues as a me­dicine for an other; she stayed not long in Marpurg, but returned thence to meete the Landtsgraue her husband, at which tyme her con­stancy was assayled by a newe af­fliction.

Death iealous of the long peace, and concord of their mariage, con­spired with fortune to separate them, and not daring to vndertake it without the helpe of vertue, they agreed to adde an occasion, in the pursuite whereof it was more glo­rious to dye, then to liue in distance.

[Page 47]All Europe was terrifyed with the happy successe of the Infidell ar­my in Egipt. The Emperour Fre­derick Barbarossa, who had maryed the daughter of the king of Hieru­salem was humbly besought & in­treated togeather with all the Chri­stian Princes to succour the Chri­stians. He appointed a great part of them to meete at Cremona, there to aduise vpon meanes to secure the affaires of Christendome against the attempts of Pagans, and to Saue Hierusalem from their tiranny. All sayed they must hasten thither but fewe were willing to be pre­sent in soe perilous, and tedious a voyage. The Landtsgraue anima­ted them all to soe holy a warre, and offered himselfe to followe the Emperour thither. He was reputed able to leade the wholl Armye, & to be Generall of it.

[Page 48]The king of Hierusalem pressed so much to haue it sett forward, least delay might render it vnpro­fitable, that the Lādtsgraue being in­forced to depart, had not leisure to returne into Thuringia, prefer­ring the aduancement of the publi­que cause before his owne affecti­ons. The adieu which hee sent by wryting to the Princesse Elizabeth his wife, serued him then for a voyage into the other world.

The army was mustered at Brin­disi, where the Emperour fell sicke. It was assaulted by so many stor­mes and tempests, that diuers ad­uised for the returne of it into Europe. The Landtsgraue caused the chiefe of them to assemble to­geather, to lett them knowe it was more shamefull to retire backe, then perilous to passe on. Hee spake to them in this manner: The tyme [Page 49] (Sirs) wee loose in consulting vpon our returne, will condemne vs of cowardize if wee passe noe further. Words are vnnecessary, when there is question, not to liue, but to march on. I lead not fresh-water souldiers: passed daungers ought to make these to be scorned, which are before vs; More glory may be found in the trueth of that, which wee nowe are, then in the vanity of what wee haue beene. Wee are not vpon the Sea, but to goe on couragiously in the face of death, when it is presented; and to expect it with a firme constancye. Followe me, for you shall neuer beare the first brunt, nor will I withdrawe my selfe from daungers, to thrust you vpon them.

All with gestures, vowes, and voyces seconded the braue exhor­tations of the Landtsgraue, & every [Page 50] one protested either to leaue his head in Asia, or to returne with it into Europe crowned with lawrel, not any of them but much desired to gather the Palmes, which Pale­stine produceth.

But this first feruour became a grosse surge of smoake, which va­nished in an instant: For the army being ready to assault, sawe it selfe assayled by a malady, winch conta­giously dispread thoroughout all the Nations and seuerall bands. The Emperour Frederik grew very sicke, and the voyage absolutely fruit­lesse.

The Landtsgraue dyed there and with him the hope of the Christi­ans to aduaunce the triumphs of Godfrey of Boulon.

Hee dyed for griefe to behould his hopes stopped in the middest of their carreere. False hopes of [Page 51] the worlde They lift men vp like young Children to the braunch of a Tree and in an instant take their shoulders away, which supported them, and leaue them hanging in the ayre. Hee commaunded his bo­dy to be layed in the tombe of his Auncestors in Thuringia, and for­got nothing necessarie for the good of his estate. His memory and iudg­ment being vigorous to sett all in order, made it appeare, that those neglect not them selues in death, who forget not God in their life.

The newes of his death was in­stantly caryed to the Princesse Eli­zabeth who found her selfe drenched in an Abisse of sorrowes, when she read those expresse dead wordes of the liuely affection of the Landts­graue, written by him a little be­fore his death, in these termes.

Madame, I am not in a condition [Page 52] eyher to counterfet, or disguise my thoughts, since so little tyme is left me to render them pure and sincere to him, who knowes them. Liuing with you the deare moity of my selfe, I haue desired nothing so much, as the study of trueth, nor will I admitt that my end con­tradict my life: to giue you assu­rance, that as I haue not sought to preserue it but for you, soe it trou­bles me not to dye, but absented from you. The Sunne shewes him­selfe more lustrous when hee setts, the loue I beare you was neuer more perfect, then in the period of the oc­cident of my life, which openeth vn­to mee the day-breake of immortal­lity. Farewell (sweetest); I should grieue for the sorrowe you will en­tertayne, did I not knowe you haue wherewithall to defend your vertue from the outrages of fortune.

[Page 53]Lo, a stroke of dolour and afflicti­on, which shooke, but overthrewe not the cōstācy of Elizabeth, God was pleased the temptation should not exceede the power of her resistance.

Her good nature hauing powred out a torrent of teares of sorrowe, her heart afforded on Ocean of ioy, con­sidering the Landtsgraue was freed from the miseryes of life more brittle then glasse, lighter then smoake, swif­ter farre and more empty, then the winde. Then lifting vp her hands, & eyes to heauen, she gaue God than­kes for this afflictiō, by which he had restored her to the liberty she so much desired, to be wholly conse­crated to his seruice.

Nowe it is (o lord) nowe is the tyme (said she) that I with more liber­ty will wayte on thee, behold me free, that I may forsake these lower playnes, and with alacrity ascend [Page 54] vp to Mount Thabor. Behold me discharged from that, which was most deare vnto me in this life, I haue nothing else to loose, & who knowes whether I had not been vndone, without this losse.

The comforts of her mariage, and the greatnesse of her condition had not at all extinguished in her the true contentments shee proposed to her selfe in a priuate, and soli­tarie life. Shee often sayed, her husband was the flower of the field, that could not be found in Cityes. That the Temple of repose was built in the Suburbes. That the honey of the Soule was made in the hyue of solitude.

This death brought that life to her, which she desired, and that she might wholly and entirely vowe her selfe to it, she disarrayed her selfe from all pleasures of the world. she [Page 55] gaue to Churches, Colledges and Hospitalls, all which she in her Ca­binet had of most price: much mo­re esteeming the charity of almes then the guift of miracles, because (sayd she) man is bound to God by miracles, and God to men by almes. She cheerefullie gaue, not with a countenance denying what she had presented. She gaue spee­dily, neither wearying patience, nor intreatyes. Teares (sayd she) which auayle little with men, are very powerfull with God, to gayne hea­uen.

Shee daily fed nine hundred poo­re people, and this largesse was ac­counted prodigality by those, who iudged her deuotion to be hypocri­sy, her zeale and humility, grosse folly. Henry Brother of Lewis hearing of his death, seized on the fortres­ses and banished the Princesse, who [Page 56] found no retreate: so much the feare to displease the strongest, and awe of the most powerfull doeth over­sway affections.

She went to a Church and there caused the Canticle of triumph, & ioy to be sung, for the fauour which God had done, by setting her into a Course of life, that she by the lawe of her condition expected not, hauing euer desired pouerty without hope to attayne it.

Yet for all that, she lost not the generosity of her birth; Riches could not make a Coward of the valiant, nor pouerty a magnanimous heart, to become sordid; for shee was not ashamed at all, but of those who liued ill, and of such as were onely poore against their wills.

Fortune coulde not take that away which she gaue her not. The greatnesse of her courage is exal­ted, [Page 57] & continueth greene among iniuryes, as Iuy in ruines.

She persisted in this patience till the arriuall of the Landtsgraues body at the meeting of which, rea­son that excuseth teares in euills remedilesse, dispensed not with her without aboundance. Many great Lords of Germany & Sicely, who had perfourmed this last office to this great Prince, seeing his widowe was reduced to straights vnworthy the House from whence shee sprang, gaue Henry to vnderstand they would not depart the Coun­try, vntill she were restored to an estate suteable to her worth, & that they resolued to enforce him there­unto. Hee allowed her one of the good liest houses of the Coun­try for her habitation, whereof she made vse not to liue, but that shee might learne to dye therein. Piety [Page 58] which with her was of more valew then life, chaunged this Castle into a monastery, where she liued with vnspeakable austerity.

Good bloud makes not more hast to the wounded part, then the king of Hungary aduertised of the Landtsgraues death, did to the sor­rowes of his daughter to comfort her. He dearely loued her, and al­though hee had other children, hee kept most loue in store for her, as the Eagle euer affecteth one of her young more then the rest. But being informed she despised the world, he dispatched a principall lord of his Court to intreat her (and, if commaunds were not powerfull enough, to adde thereunto the au­thority of a king to cause her,) to retourne into Hungary, as also in the meane tyme to assure her, that as the glory and meritt of the serui­ces, [Page 59] which the Prince her Husband had done to Christendome remay­ned for a Comfort, & increase of state & patrimony to his children, so it inclyned his disposition to let her see this accident should not in any sort impayre her condition.

But he found her nothing flexi­ble to his perswasions, nor well pleased with his propositions. Her eyes were too cleare, not to knowe that the gould of worldly promises is sophisticate, and that as the Sunne canot be better seene, then in cleare & pure water, soe true content of minde, may not rightly be estima­ted, but in Soules purged & pu­rifyed from the cares and embroyl­ments of the world.

Behold her Fathers letter.

Daughter, Fortune assayleth, not for slight causes the courages of those who are of your quality: she hath [Page 60] inuaded you on that side where she thought to ouercome your constan­cy, and triumph ouer your vertue. It is the death of the Landtsgraue which extreamely grieues me, be­cause you haue lost a good Hus­band, and the Christian world a great Captayne. My affliction is so much the more harsh and in­supportable to me, in that I heard of his death before his malady, and that one and the same instant sawe me to applaude the successe of his voyage, the miracles of his life, and to bewayle the accident of his death. I should wrong your iudge­ment to comfort you, in matters, which you vnderstand to be reme­dilesse. I had rather assure you, that he who called your Husband to heauen, reserueth a Father for you on earth, more desirous then euer, to make you so happy by a second [Page 61] mariage as you had occasion to be pleased with your first. Abillity in me shall not be more difficult, then will. But I shall euer leaue your disposition at liberty, most confi­dent you will not inclyne it to re­solutions contrary to the age whe­rein you are, nor to the counsells of those who loued you before you were capable of loue. Come hether then to reape the fruits, & afford this contentment to the desires, and prayers of your father.

Andrew.

SHe was not much troubled what aunswere she should make to this letter; with the same hand wherewith she receiued it, she wrote these lynes, saying as Olympius, that if God had been pleased she should haue continued in the company of a man, he neuer had bereaued her of a husband.

S. r (sayd she) I cannot thinke God hath called one moity of my selfe to heauen, to suffer the other any long tyme to languish heere, and though for his iustice sake, & the punishment of my sinnes, it should please him to prolong my dayes, it will not be to reduce me backe againe into the seruitude from which I am freed. As to sa­tisfye you, I loued no man but my Lord the Landtsgraue, so for his loue none liuing shall be affe­cted by me, to possesse either my heart, or body. I gaue vnto the world the flowers & fruits of mine age, you ought not to thinke it amisse, if I reserue for heauen the last honour of the tree, and that poore verdure which in the spring­tide thereof already beginneth to waxe pale, & withered; an euident signe that the immutable renoua­tion, [Page 63] which I hartily wish, is not farre of. If you hinder the vowes I haue made of perpetuall continency, you shall be the sole authour of my death, as you were one of the causes of my life. Your Court whereūto you inuite me shall be to me a death, life a pri­son, the world a hell; you shall chaunge the name of a Father into that, which can noe way belong to you, but by forcing a will which God him selfe permitts to be free, in her who remayning his faithfull seruant, desires also to rest your most humble Daughter.

Elizabeth.

The king of Hungary hearing this resolution, did all he could to diuert her from it. Many Princes vpon the bruit of soe aboundant per­fections, wherewith she replenished all Europe sought her in a second wedlocke. Shee continually expres­sed [Page 64] she neither could, nor would marry. That if her excuses were not taken for denyalls, and her re­solutions for reasons, she would slitt her nose, thrust out her eyes, so disfigure her selfe, that not any should desire her. From that tyme forward she became the fable, and floute of the world, the scorne of great ones, the shame and rebuke of her nearest Allyes, her zeale was accounted folly, her deuotion hy­pocrisy, her simplicity sottishnesse her retirednesse melancholy. Some sayd vnto her she did well to liue more vertuouslie & piously then the rest of her sexe, but to liue lesse noblie was basenesse, and in this extraordinarie manner meere giddinesse.

Another life, another manner of liuing. We must in matter of reli­gion, as in nauigation beyond the [Page 65] Pole arctique, haue another heauen, other starres, another Pole. When one is arriued to this point of for­saking the world, another science must be learned, another spiritt, another intention, when we loose the North starre of will, wee must take vnto vs, that, of obedience. The life of those great soules, which liue in Heauen although they breath on earth, hath a course much contrary to that of the world as the starres.

All the actions of this Princesse directed to the honour of God, stood out the shott of the arrowes of enuy and Calumny. She no whitt regarded, what the people (bad censurers of good workes) sayed of her. She reioyced when those bladders of slaunder emptyed them selues on her of the poyson, wherewith they were filled.

[Page 66]Besides her heart was soe large and ample, that these petty iniu­ryes were quite lost vpon her, her Soule onely liuing on wormewood, had noe gall in it.

The innocency, and simplicity of her life had the same vertues against calumnyes, which the little stones of Nilus, that keepe dogges from barking. The wicked in the end were constrayned to chaunge their scorne into admiration of a life, more like to that of Angells then of mortalls.

She raysed her arme to the highest triumph whereunto vertue might reach, not onely tollerating iniuryes, but doing good to any that wronged her. Some maleuolent tongues thinking to fixe the sting of their slaunders vpon her memo­ry the more to afflict her, spake ill of her, and touched her to the [Page 67] quicke, although the innocency of her life, and the purity of her actions made her insensible of such woundes: but naturallie, falshoods vexe and penetrate the Soule more then truthes. All her reuenge was to pray to God for the calumnious, and in this her oraison, shee heard a voyce from heauen, assuring her that of soe many prayers as were made by her, that, which she offe­red in the behalfe of her enemyes had been the most acceptable.

Euery one sawe the euill she suf­fered, and not any the good she did, her night watchings and auste­rityes. Such holy actions are lighted torches, suddenlie put out with the first blast of vanity, and presumption, if humility couer them not.

In this long and tedious way she neuer looked backward, nor stayed at the golden apples, to slacken her [Page 68] speed. The more she drewe nigh ro her end, the more she desired to attayne it. The nearer she ap­proached to the center, the more stable she became. She was a wid­dowe at twenty yeares of age, she vowed her selfe to the third order of Saint Frauncis at twenty one, wherin she liued and died happi­ly. She went out of the world, as out of a Babilon, finding nothing therein to satisfye her soule, nor to ease the langours, or shorten the length of the miserable condi­tion of life, where the most pro­sperous waxe olde, rather with anxiety, then yeares.

A resolution truly worthy of a heart so resolute. It onely apper­tayneth to generous hearts to resolue vpon so violent chaunges, and to make such leapes from earth to heauen.

[Page 69]She liued and died so blessedly, & the sanctity of her life was testi­fyed by so many miracles, that Pope Gregory the nynth in full Coun­sell declared her a Saint, and or­dayned the 27. of Nouember for her festiuall. Her body fower yeares after her death wholly entire, and odoriferous, was taken out of the earth, and sett vpon the Aultar of a Church dedicated to her name by the Archbishops of Colen, Mentz, and Breme. The Emperour was pre­sent at the ceremony, and to this Princesse (who liuing despised re­gall crownes, for that of thornes) hee presented a triple crowne of gould, as a witnesse of the perfe­ctions which had crowned the three conditions of her life. Shee had three children, Herman who suc­ceeded his Father, and dyed at the age of Eighteene yeares, Sophia that [Page 70] was marryed to the Duke of Bra­bant, & another Sophia, who follow­ing the piety of her mother be­came religious at Kitzing in Fran­conia.

Behold how impossible it is to speake ill of those who haue liued well.

FINIS.

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