THe first thing requested of thee (O Passenger) is, that thou wouldest blesse Almighty God, that in France thou maist now read these lines securely.

Next, wonder, that He whom the Earth was too an­gust, for when he was alive, should be imprisoned in so small a space of ground, now he is dead.

When he had commoved Earth, he aspired to rule even Heaven it selfe; as appeares by his arrogating to him­selfe this Symbolum, or Motto. MENS SIDERA VOLVIT.

And that thou maist understand what kind of Intelli­gence this was; know that he was of a sagatious industry, but unquiet; an Enemy both of the Publike, and of his Privare tranquillity.

In a great Wit, by many revered, not a few that knew him, found a great mixture of madnesse.

Hee had a minde that was made worse by every thing; bettered by nothing.

He stood thus long; not so much through favour, as his power with a mightie King: and was happy in the event of things, rather then in a prudent mannage of them.

Onely, he was unhappy in the dis-favour of Almigh­ty God: For having continually conflicted with noy­some diseases, he was ignorant of the seat of happines, which yet, to the rendring both himselfe and others unhappy he sought after.

[Page 2] Nor did he ever seeme happy even in his owne eyes, as not honest in the eyes of those who called him happy.

He was vexed with two great tormentors of life, Cho­ler, and Melancholly. In the flames of the former, and the fumes of the latter he continually suffered.

So that venome which he spit out to the perdition of others, he could not keepe in without hurt to himself.

He outwent most men in Covetousnes, all men in am­bition. A Waster of the Royall Exchequer, but a nig­gard of his owne Purse. Cruell if offended; but more cruell where he offended others.

By the conferrings of the Queene Mother he was made rich, by her plottings preferred, and by her pow­er made more potent. Yet her did hee deprive of the Kings favour, of her liberty, of her estate, of France, and at last of her life, she being an exile at Colleine. And lest he should spare her when she was dead, he null'd her last will, and caused her corps to lie five months (at the end of which, himselfe followed her) in her cham­ber unburied.

The honour of Monsieur the Kings Brother he viola­ted, and endeavoured to supplant even his Person.

King of France.He not onely withdrew the affections of * Sonne from Mother, and of * Brother from Brother; but of * Husband from Wife.

Mariliack he caused to be beheaded by the greatest wrong. Montmorancy by the greatest right, Cinkmart partly by right, partly by wrong; M. de Thow, whe­ther by right or wrong no man knowes.

Some Noble men he condemned to perpetuall im­prisonment, more to banishment: but those he drave from Court were innumerable.

He proscribed many, least they should hinder his [Page 3]designes. Nor did milder France ever behold so fre­quent Punishments.

Building upon the power of a great King (whom with a great deale of art and study he deceived) and suppeditated with the wealth of a most fruitfull King­dome, he spent an infinite number of Arrowes in ai­ming to hit the maine Marke which he had missed.

A continuall working and agitation of mind, backt with many mad attempts, together with a rigid seve­rity, and an all-trying boldnes, produced a few fortunate issues. But hee had soone beene supplanted, if among forreigne Enemies he had found some more wary, or among French men (scarse any of whom but were averse to him) had met but with one Adversary.

It well besteaded him that hardly any body knew him, or beleeved those that did.

He was so fortunate, that those of the Nobility, as well as of the Army, whom he had irritated, did yet for his honour, shed their owne and others blood, whi­lest himselfe mingled his with the Kings.

He had perished in the same designe in which Se­janus once perished, had he not taken out of the way (O griefe to thinke on) the Royall Count of Soisson.

Germany, Spaine, Italie, and the Low Countries, but especially France, will hardly be able in a whole Age to efface the bad impressions of so hurtfull an Auto­ritie.

Taking pleasure in the miseries both of the Citizens and Suburbers, that he might fleece these, he lanc'd the very entralls of those.

Nor did he any whit indulge to the sacred health of of the King, but disturbed that, whilst with anxieties and various Passions of mind he wore out his owne.

[Page 4] The Divine justice first ulcerated his arme which he [...] [...]ad stretched out against heaven. Next it tooke from him the use of his right Hand, which had subscribed to unnecessary warres. His arme eight moneths before his death rotted, by reason of which his hand withered.

And yet (which is a sad thing) he that so plainely felt God an avenger, would not plainely enough ac­knowledge him.

This appeares in that he more hotly exercised his fu­ry upon his private Enemies.

In that, Death approaching, rather out of a politick Prudence, then a Christian Piety, he commended his Fa­vorites to the King, more then his Soule to God.

In that, a few daies before the Catastrophe of his Tragicke life, he caused a Play of his owne devising (which he called Europa Triumphata) to be Acted in the most Royall Pompe that could bee (though himselfe could not behold it.)

In that, being a Cardinall, he afflicted the Church, be­ing a Priest, he Shed Bloud, being a Christian, he forgave no injuries, and being a Man, he yet would not remem­ber himselfe to be mortall, even when the wormes craw­ling out of his many Ulcers did admonish him to how fraile and noisome a mortality he was obnoxious.

When by all waies (the most impious not unassai­ed) he had for the space of eighteene yeares prose­cuted his private ends to the undoing of the Publicke, hee at length arrived to the ordinary end of Men, by a death to appearance peaceable, but more lingring then that of many, whom he had sent before him.

He died at Paris, where he had beene borne fifty se­ven yeares and three moneths before.

Forsaking France and his owne house, he seemed to [Page 5]endeavour the combustion of them both; of that, by an extorted Declaration against the Kings Brother of this, by a will framed to a womans fancie. The Dut­chesse of Eguillon.

For the rest, nor did the Kingdome of France (be­ing opulent) ever deale with any so bountifully; not (being of a Genius impatient) did it ever beare with any so continuedly; nor (affecting quietment) did it ever part with any so gladly.

I assert these things openly which thou (ô Passinger) didst priviely suspect, and in wisdome keptst to thy selfe.

If thou encounterest any one who still doubts, en­treat him not to give credit to abused men, nor to cor­rupted flatterers; but rather to Me who speake no­thing but truth, and that out of a conscientious sin­cerity.

And I would have all men perswaded, that the least justice is more acceptable to God, than the greatest power: that a name is to be esteemed, not for being far and wide diffused, but for being good, that to trouble and unsetle many things, is not to doe much, but be­ing unsetled, to compose them; more, to keepe them from being unsetled, most of all.

Prosperous wickednesses are by the multitude ac­counted for vertues: but doe thou (on the contrary) thinke nothing more wretched, then such thriving im­pieties.

This egregious Artisan of cheats (Richlieu) deceived many for a while, and himselfe haply to eternity.

Who (alas) shall reduce to order that infinity of things which he hath confused? who deemed of Peace, because it suited not with his turbulent braine, that it was disagreeable even to his fortune. From whence [Page 6]sprang those many evills which for these last fifteen yeeres have so oppressed the Christian World.

Pray, that God would not eternally avenge it upon the Author; who needed much mercy and many of Gods compassions, amid his many and great crimes.

Doe thou (O Christan seriously perpend, what a Nothing that is, which is subject to a momentary va­nish, * None of those whom thou seest clad in Purple, Seneca. is therefore happie, no more than they whose part in a Comedy allowes them a Robe and Scepter; who having buskind and on tip-toes strutted it before the staring spectators, as soone as they come to their Exit, are un-pantoffled, and returne to their owne stature.

Furthermore, see how small an ash heape he now is, who once was so great a Fire: how fetid a streame he now sends forth, who lately darted a splendor so corus­cant, that every ones eyes were thereby dazzled.

I wish he prove not a Fire-brand to himselfe in ano­ther world, who was so to Europe in this.

Poore Europe now hopes for Peace, the fuell of her warres being extinct.

I should entreat thee (ô Passinger) to pray for Pe [...]ce to this so mortal an enemie even of his own peace: but that I feare thou wouldst but trouble him, in wishing a thing to him which he so greatly hared. Yet Pray notwithstanding; in that thou are commanded to live thy enemies. If the Peace thou prayest for, reach not Him, it will returne unto thy selfe. Such was the Com­mandment of our Saviour; Luke 10. in whom I wish thee Peace whilst thou livest, that thou mayst sweetely rest in him when thou dyest. In the meane time, Farewell.