The history of S. Elizabeth daughter of the King of Hungary According to sundry authours who haue authentically written her life, distributed into three bookes. By H.A. Permissu superiorum.

The Parents, Birth, Infancy, & Espousalls of Elizabeth. CHAP. I.

HVNGARY, the vtmost Thuly of the Turkish Empire, or impetuous in∣undation of the Ottom•…•… race, which now long •…•…ince tirannized vpon Asia the greater •…•…nd the lesse, and of this side found its

barr at least in the Danuby; hath had Geyza, the first Christian King of that Monarchy; who being once baptized, gaue seriously himself to propagate the Christian faith through his king∣dome, therein assisted by the Almans. Stephen his sonne, who is enrooled in the number and Catalogue of the Saints, was King after him, in the yeare of Grace 997. He espoused the Sister of the Emperour S. Henry, called Gi∣zele, & by her amongst other Childrē, had S. Emerick, who dyed yong before his Father. Peter his Nephew of his Sisters side, succeeded him, who liuing luxuriously and viciously, was by the Hungars thrust out of the kingdome, and Aba S. Stephens brother in law put into his place. Who liuing worse then Peter▪ was hated for his pride, & slaine in the Warrs, in the third yeare of his raigne; and Peter recalled againe; who gouerning more like a Tirant then a King, exercising great cruelty vpon Preists, and prophaning, and pilla∣ging the Church, had his eyes at last ph•…•…kt out of his head, on the second

yeare, after his recall: And Andrew Cozin of S. Stephen aduanced to the Throne after him, who reesta∣blished the Christian Religion in Hungary, and reedifyed the Tem∣ples which had been demolished. After which, Andrew, by the in∣terposition of thirteene kings suc∣ceeding one an other in the same Mo∣narchy, a second Andrew entred into the Throne, not a whit infe∣riour to the former; but in valour and fortitude exceeding him farre, accor∣ding to the Etymology of his name in Greeke, which signifyes Man-hood, Fortitude, and Valour.

This happy King, and Monarch of that ample state, as he was re∣nowned for his prouesse, and ab∣solute authority, thereby gayned and purchased vpon that Realme; so was he most conspicuous in the eyes of men; for gouerning that kingdome with such equity, iustice, and religion; as though his life, otherwise, were full of many noble archieuments in warrs, yet his

wisdome and prudence, in gouerne∣ment, being the essentiall part of his royall dignity, immortalized him more, then his martiall exploits, which for personall performance he recommēded to his Captaynes, Com∣manders, and Generalls in the field, willing rather to put his victorious sword, into their hands; who knew how to brandish it abroad, then to bee wanting to his scepter at home, which none could wield or manadge like himself.

But that which made him more happy then the rest, was the worthy Choyce he made of a deare Consort and indiuiduall companion, of either fortunes, such as that noble Princesse was, the Lady Gertrude daughter of the Duke of Carinthia, who being admi∣red for her rare beauty, and Princely parentage, was yet more amiable to the world for her sage prudence and fayre demeanures, for which she was more esteemed: then for the Lyllyes and Roses of her Cheeks, and greater iustre of her family.

As wel appeared, as often as occasion serued, when her deare Lord, was for∣ced to absent himself from his royall seate, & she fayne to supply his roome, which she did full loath, and most vn∣willingly, and yet so wisely that one could hardly tell, which most excelled, a princely Modesty, or Prudēce in her. So discreete and practicall she was in gouernement, as if made for Scepters, while she sate vpon the Throne; and yet so ignorāt againe of such matters, sitting in her Chamber with her La∣dyes, while her Husband swayd the scepter in his person; as she seemed to know no more, then her needle, and how to sett forth her works in silkes, which she did most curiously indeede.

In fine, they were both most happy, hee in her, and she in him, and it were hard to say, which the more, since the world afforded not a better pay—. Yea happy Hungary the while, where rai∣gned such a Sunne and Moone by tur∣nes, in the Hemispheare of that flori∣shing region. But yet more happy farr, and more illustrious they shine in the

Ecclesiastical Hierarchy; for bringing forth into the world such a Starr, as S. Elizabeth was. Thus far hath shee been borrowing Light, & lustre from them; but now like a Hesperus, shee begins to arise, and appeare her self in this fir∣mament of ours, to glad both the hea∣uens & earth with her presence, with such faire preparatiōs as these, making her royall entry into the world. And that with reason, since in triūphes, the wayes where Princes are to passe in their first entrances are strewen with flowers, & adorned with tapestryes: & what better flowers, can we strew be∣fore our S. then the vertues of her Stem, whence shee is deriued: what fayrer Tapestries then the noble portraits of her most renowned Parēts, to precede, as it were, the procession of her life.

When Gertrude Queene of Hungary, was found to be with child, you may imagine, what ioy and iubily there was; Who ioyes not, at the chaunting of the Cock, as being the signe, albeit remote, of the gladsome day at hand; but when as day begins to breake; and

the Aurora appeares; Men do begin to open their eyes, to entertayne the wi∣shed starre of the day, & by the Aurora, wil the wiser of them ghesse, at the fu∣ture day. The Aurora now was come, while Gertrude, in the howers of ex∣pectation, approached to her child∣birth. When Elinsor, a famous Astro∣loger of those dayes, deuoted to the princely Couple desirous eyther to sa∣tisfy his owne curiosity, or to comply with that of others; gazing on the starres, and obseruing their constel∣lations, did calculate the Natiuity of the new borne childe. And found after he had turned ouer the whole Ephe∣merides;

that a Damsell was then to be borne, of that royall lynage, whose name should be Elizabeth, foretelling her good inclinations, vertues, and miracles, how shee was to be maried, and what the name of her Spouse should bee; that al should hold her, for the ioy and delight of the Church, and shee proue very singular in graces and spiritual endowments through the course of her whole life.

These were the sage, prognosticates of that Astrologer, by the helpe of his Art: If art may be sayd to go so farr as to deriue, vpon the operations of the mind; which I list not here to exami∣ne. It sufficeth his coniecture at least, was not amisse, and his creditt with men & authority so great, as to breede an extraordinary expectation in them of some rare creature to be shorly bor∣ne and come into the world.

And now behold the tyme was come, and Gertrude happily deliuered, of a daughter, and such a one, as bredd an vniuersall ioy in Court, and Citty, no place that was not filled with signes of triumph, especially at her entrāce into the Church, by the lauer of Baptisme, when she put on, the cādid robe of in∣nocēcy, washed with the blood of the immaculate Lamb whereof she was neuer dispoyled, to her dying day. A great confusion doubtlesse to vs Mor∣talls, who not contented to breake our first faith, in stayning this robe, but after so many wholsome baths of Pe∣nance returne to contaminate, the

same againe and againe, and I would to God, no more againe.

Elizabeth, for soe now she is enrol∣led in the booke of life, to be cancelled neuer, as yet hanging on her Mothers breast; (for she committs not that treasure, to the trust of any) that she might truly bee a Mother wholely, and not to halues. Herman Lantgraue of Thuringia, hauing at that time like∣wise a Sonne newly borne, called Lewes, and hearing of the vniuersall acclamation made, at the double Birth of this rare a Phoenix, partly through the good Omen, he conceiued thereof, and partly to match in soe royall a Fa∣mily; dispatches Embassadours, with good expedition to Andrew King of Hungary, to demaund Elizabeth, for Spouse for his said Lewes. Such it see∣mes was the tenour of those dayes, and is yet in practize now and then, among greatest Princes, for reason of State, to vnite their kingdomes stron∣ger to each other, still leauing the par∣ties, to their full choyce, when they come to the yeares of Election.

No maruell then, if Andrew, with his dearest Gertrude, after the matter had been throughly debated by his prudēt Coūcel, gaue so free & easy cōsent the∣reto: for he sent away the Embassadors wel satisfyed with his royall promise.

But the Lantgraue, now at last, the Infants being growen to be three or foure yeares of age, desirous to haue such a iewel in his house, sent his Embassadors a new to fetch that pre∣cious treasure into his State, seeing no reason that since shee was to be inserted into the house of Thuringia, and was to flourish in that garden; but shee should take her greener sap from that soyle, and beginne so yong to frame herself, to the customes of that Lād, hauing other reasons for the same besides: & so likewise had Andrew & Gertrude on their parts important mo∣tiues, to hold her stil with them, & not so soone to enrich Thuringia, with the impouerishing of Hungary, but least Nature, being but the one, might be thought to bee the whole impedimēt, being prudent as they were, and not willing to take so weake an imputa∣tion

on themselues, they gaue order, for her sending to Thuringia.

The Queene, sēt with her a rich furni∣ture for her Chāber, with a Cupbord of plate, of gold & siluer, & many pre∣cious iewels of inestimable valew, also diuers cabinets of pretti toyes to enter∣teyne her infancy withall; and sundry cheynes bracelets, earings, carkanets, Chests of the finest lynnēs, with other things besids wel befitting such a Prin∣cesse. The King for his part, sent his royall word, to allow her so much by the yeare, as should mainteyne her a conuenient Court, fit for such a Prin∣cesse, vntil such tyme, as the Espousalls were solemnized, when, he would send her portion agreed vpon, at one entire paymēt; and for the present sent her so attended, as became his Daughter.

In this equipage, after a million of kisses of the Child, by the tender Pa∣rents, at its departure from the Court of Hungary, went the Embassadors, of each part, with the treasure of heauen, very charily and tenderly car∣rying the same with easy iourneys, till they came to the Metropolis, where

the Lantgraue held his Court: Where being arriued (performing their Em∣bassage to the Princely Father and the Dutchesse), they presented the Spouse to the yong Prince, who with a gra∣cious & smiling countenance receiued her, to the great satisfaction and ioy of all. I will not stand here, to number the shewes & triumphes made in that Citty, to welcome this great little Ghost, what fireworks were made, what triumphall Arks set vpp, in fine, what not, that might any wayes seeme to giue forth pomp & magnificēce in a high measure. But that which passed all, was, the chearefulnes, read in the countenāces of al, but especially in the Lantgraue, & his Dutchesse thēselues, who as then presages in this happy arriual, an vnspeakable blessing to thēselues, their family, & whole estate.

But ô disastre, after a three yeares space, the newes is brought to Court, how that faire Gertrude mirrour of Queenes, the goodly Cinthia of the Hungarian skyes in the plenitude and fullnes of her temporall feli∣city,

not without some probable signes of her predestination, through a constant course at least, and perseue∣rance in a vertuous life, by some coniectures was cruelly thought to be murthered by the treachery of the No∣bles of that Land; to the great lamen∣tation of all the vertuous and good, as for the losse of a great stay and Pillar of that State, the little Elizabeth now being seauen yeares of age.

THE PRETY SPORTS AND Entertaynements of Elizabeth in her Childhood: the Death of the Prince her Father in Law, and the deuotion she vsed. CHAP. II.

HEre now imagin Death to haue been a sleepe, the while this glo∣rious Queene Gertrude enioyed the Sunshine of her Life; and that he now began to awake and rouze himself to gather Roses, in their cheifest prime and fullest growth. Nor doth hee allwayes attend so long, but often

takes them in the bud: Howbeit this Rose was taken off by cruell Death, in her cheifest flourishing of all. God blesse the bud the while, the yssue of this Rose, that now begins to peere indeede in the garden of the world, & giue forth shewes ere she be aware of her future sanctity. For loe by this tyme, knowing rather by instinct, and the vnction of the Holy Ghost▪ then any reading, or help of any other exte∣riour Maister, besides her Paranimph, or Angel Guardian; of what importāce was, the singular and special deuotion to the Saints of God, being of his pro∣per family, and dearest to him, & such as continually assist in his presence, & neuer take off their eyes frō beholding him face to face: And knowing yet be∣sides, that howbeyt, they are euer prest & ready to attend to their deuotes at al tymes, & places, where & whensoeuer with true Deuotiō they are called vpō; Yet more particularly in places, where Temples, Chapells, Aultars, & Orato∣ryes are peculiarly dedicated to their honour, being properly the House of God, where he is pleased best to giue

audience, & receiue the Memorials, suits, & petitions of men. She therefore often re∣sortes thither, & there, before euery Aultar would sometymes kneele, & sometymes bow downe her body reuerētly, in others presence doing what suited best with her dignity: but alone she would prostrate her self on the floore, & steale some amourous kisses from the ground, & most comōnly lift vp her hands to her breast; and likely alwayes, cast vp her eyes to heauen except sometymes when shee closed thē to look into her self. O rare Bud of Sanctity and most angelical Infāt, not more of Hungary or of Thuringia, then of Paradice it self!

If in the Pallace shee had found the Chappel doores to be shut; shee would not wholy loose her labour, but reue∣rently kneele at the threshold, and kisse them deuoutly; nor came shee euer without some suit or petitiō in her mouth, or in her hart at least. How many tymes, being in the heat of her sports, with the rest of her companions, and equalls in yeares, though in vertue and dignity, not like to her, shee would lay wagers, who in running should first arriue at the

Chappell doore, to haue occasion the∣reby to make frequent Visitts of the venerable and most blessed Sacrament: Soe burning was the ardour of her Loue to her heauenly Spouse, whom she knew to sit within the Veyle or curtaine of those Species there. In the midst of her childish sports, she often tooke occasion to performe some act of humiliation or other; and that so pretily, as seemed not to be indu∣striously donne but meerely vnawares, when as in truth, she would doe it of set purpose. Sometymes moreouer when she playd at cards with her Ladyes, and happily had won any money of them she distributed the same among her Mayds of the poorer sort, obliging them of duty, at least to say a Pater and Aue for her.

She was now passing into the Ninth yeare of her age, when suddenly beyond all expectation, the Lantgraue, Father to her Spouse Lewes, departed this life, to the great astonishment & dismay noe doubt of the whole state, finding it self soe vntymely depriued,

of its head, and the weight of so flourishing a Dukedome, as Thurin∣gia, now like to presse, if not oppres∣se the infant shoulders of the new Prince. But necessity hath no Law, and Death as lawlesse as necessity ma∣kes but a sport of Chests, of the life of Man, and as soone giues a check to a King or Queene, as to a Pawne, and the State the while must be con∣tent, to take their chaunce or fortune as it is; and make their best of their fickle and transitory game. by speedy substitutiō of some Protectour of that Gouernement and Prince, which heere wee intermedle not with, as hasting rather to the tender Princesse her self, the Argument in hand. Who, as the dawning of the Day hitherto, now begins to appeare more cleare, then euer in the Litle World or Hemisphea∣re of the Dutchy of Thuringia to a per∣fect Day. For looke as her yeares en∣creased, so the sparks of her childish and innocent deuotions, and vertues began more seriously to enkindle, and take fire in her hart, which the more intensly burned and flamed within her

as shee wisely went about to conceale them in her breast.

One of the things, which Saints & spiritual men do much recommend, is the frequent memory of God. For be∣sides the worke in it self, most grateful and pleasing to him, it includes an act of Religion and of Prayer, fulfilling* 1.1 the same of our Sauiour. Wee must al∣wayes pray and neuer giue ouer; and also other acts besides, as Faith, Hope, and Charity, and the rest, and is most profitable for al, to keepe them from falling into Sinne or defects. So liue thou with men as if God had his Eyes stil cast vpon thee: Sayd Seneca the Heathen. This ground now of spiritual buil∣ding, wheresoeuer the Infant had it; shee infallibly layd; while shee tooke the resolution shee made, to haue al∣wayes God before her eyes, euen in these tender yeares in al her actions whatsoeuer.

Vpon which foundation shee built this Heroicall purpose, for his sake to abandon all the delights and pleasu∣res of the world, al brauery in apparrel with their variety of fashions, in affe∣ction

at least. And moreouer to leaue the pāpering & delicacyes of the flesh, yea more, al the vanityes of the world, not contented to refuse them only, but euen with a holy Tirāny frō that tyme forwards to trample thē vnder foote.

And forasmuch as in her constant resolution, it was needful to begge di∣uine assistāce, more then ordinary, shee tooke vp certaine deuotions, which shee likely omitted not vpon any oc∣casiō; so as if she chaunced at any tyme to forget them by day, shee faithfully supplied thē in the night: applying her self most deuoutly to the Mother of God, the incōparable Virgin, to vouch∣safe to patronize & secōd her pious in∣tentions, & to mediate her cause with her Sonne, whō shee presumed could deny her nothing: then to her Angell Guardian, whō shee coniured to looke vnto his charge, & not to suffer her to breake her new made purposes. Shee euē passed through the whole Hierar∣chy of Angels & SS. of heauen frō the highest Seraphin, to the Theefe on the crosse, to make intercession for her.

But aboue al, shee addicted her self

to the glorious Apostle and Euangelist S. Iohn, calling him by all the amou∣rous words she could deuise, as to whō she had perticular deuotion, & whom freely and affectuously she had chosen aboue the rest. According it should seeme to the laudable practize now a dayes to make choyce of some singu∣lar Patron, to recurr to in all necessi∣tyes, and to serue with infatigable constancy to the end. Him she coniu∣red with a thousand titles, as well ge∣nerall as proper to him: as Trumpe•…•…t of Israell, Organ of the Liuing God, Notary of Heauen, Secretary of the Estate of the Church, high flying Eagle, especiall Fauouri∣te of the Spouse, the dearely beloued of IESVS: that he would help to esta∣blish and ratify her pious purpose of seruing God his Master and hers, in a more eminent manner, then hitherto she had don. To which intent to en∣gage him the more; though she had already so especially and singularly chosen him before; she obteyned of God, in the comon suffrages or Ele∣ction of Saints, which according to

custome was vsed there, that she might •…•…raw him and no other, which to her vnspeakable ioy and comfort she did, for thrice togeather. And therfore in∣•…•…eed so highly shee honoured this se∣lect Patron of hers, the glorious Apo∣stle and most illumined Euangelist S. Iohn, so leaning, as it were, on his Lords breast, as well now in heauen, as once he did, at the last Supper, the fi∣gure of that diuine Paschall. And fur∣ther euer after frō that tyme forwards, she so highly reuerenced & honoured this Saint & Patron of hers, as shee ve∣rily thought she was not to deny anie thing to any who begged or craued in his name.

The Holy dayes she obserued most punctually and religiously indeed, ac∣cording to her yeares & capacity: Whē she would lay aside some part of her dressings & attires; esteeming on tho∣se dayes, quite cōtrary to the vse of her Peeres, & the practize of those tymes; the best decking & ornament of all, to •…•…e the Beauty of the Soule within, hol∣ding it to be a gratefull to be deuout &

reuerent in his presence, without the glittering of these pearles and pretious Stones, then to prancke her self with al those toyes, whereby the hart beco∣mes ful of vanity and distraction; and therefore ordinarily shee left off her gloues, at least so long as the Seruice or Masse lasted, being desirous by degrees to breake her wil, though in smaller things, that shee might hereafter arise to more noble reflections, and gayne more noble conquests on her self. Ima∣gining, though the thing was but little in yt self, yet being donne in respect & memory of the Passion, represen∣ted there in the dreadfull Mysterie of the present Sacrifice, it would doubtles be gratefull and acceptable to God.

Many times shee would say to her Ladyes about her. Sisters, for the Loue of our Lord Iesus Christ, let vs weare no gloues, nor put on any silk, gold, or Iewels to day, nor eate but of one dish only, or abstayne from such a dish, and forbeare at least to daunce this day, or to play at cards,

or the like. And with these begin∣nings, abstayning meerely for the Loue of God, by little and little shee gathered, and they by her example, the celestiall fruits of Vertue. When shee playd at any tyme and wonne, so as fortune seemed to smile vpon her; shee would say it was now tyme to giue ouer; because shee was flat∣tered with prosperity: reflecting the while, if men so reioyced with a little breath of prosperity or encourage∣ment of so light a gayne, what would they do when occasion ser∣ued, that the Holy Ghost were plea∣sed to breath vpon them, and they to obtayne the Margarits and Pear∣les of the ioyes of Heauen? In dan∣ceing likewise which shee could not eschew to satisfy the Nobles, shee was content with one graue and solemne measure only, saying; it was sufficient with one stryene, to giue satisfaction to the world and to please the Louers thereof, and the rest shee would omit, and fairely interrupt for Christ's sake. And thus with th•…•…se

exercizes of denying & barring her self voluntarily from the pleasures of the flesh or vanityes of the world; she mar∣ched forwards to a higher degree of more eminent vertue and perfection.

HOVV ELIZABETH VVAS contemned by Sophia, and Agnes her Mother, and Sister in Law; with the rest of the Court. CHAP. III.

BEhold our noble Princesse now begins to mount the mysticall Ladder of Iacob: that is, to enter into the true Exercize of Piety, consisting of ten seuerall Stepps, still ascending higher. The first; a recesse from the Earth or affect of Secular or terrene things, with a firme decree of the mind to follow Christ. This stepp shee hath climed already, so as with the Apostles in affect at least shee might well vsurp that saying of theirs. Behold wee haue left all things. The second; an Obliuion of worldly things: Whereto the amou∣rous

celestial Louer exhorts his Spou∣se. O harken Daughter, forget thy people. The third, an hatred and contempt thereof, as appeares in her, who estee∣mes the same as dung to purchasse Christ. The fourth, a dispoyling and Euangelical hatred of al super∣fluous and profane Loue of Friends, citizens, and Parents. The fift, a hatred of her self for Christ, which she truly did, as shal appeare. The sixt, an abnegation of her self, and pro∣per Loue. The seauenth, a daylie car∣rying of the Crosse, or mortification of inordinat concupiscences. The eight the Imitation or Following of Christ, inconstantly pursuing his vertues, and especially these, Meeknes, and Hu∣mility. The Ninth, a loue of the Neig∣bour, yea of the Enemies themselues, through his example on the Crosse, when he prayed for his Persecutours. The tenth & last. An intimous vnion with God, that the mind do wholely adhere to God, and as it were bee made one spirit with him, and may truely say, as she might wel, that same of S.

Paul: I liue, not I now, but rather Christ in mee.

For loe, a faire occasion now begins to present it self to her, of arising vnto higher degrees of this exercise of Pie∣ty, or Patience I may say. Since hauing such a Mother in law as Sophia, & such a Sister as her daughter Agnes, by the death of her tender and deare father in law, now growne in great authority in Court, her Spouse as yet but yong. What can wee looke for, but stormes and tragedyes at their hands? Sophia indeed was a Woman, faire enough, and gracious to behold, but of a vio∣lent and impetuous nature; and as she was her self, so bred she vp her child, as likly they are Birds of a fea∣ther. The Mother though she were not yong, yet was not ancient, and if those yeares she had could haue borne her out, her mind would haue ranked her with the youthfullest of her Da∣mes; & what became not her self to do, she would be doing in others by setting thē on, in fashions, attires, in dancing, gaming, and the like. She would be

known to be Dutchesse of Thuringia, & haue her dues in points of honour, punctually obserued; obsequiously at∣tended at Table, and abroad, by her Pages, and neuer without a Beuy of Courtly Ladyes about her. Her appa∣rel not so rich as fashionable, relying more on the splendour of her iewells to make her appeare who she was, then the Gorgeousnes of attyres other∣wayes: therein giuing scope to her Ladyes and Maids of honour, to vye with one an other, wherein taking a complacence, she seemed to exceede in them, so being guilty her self of their excesse. And yet whatsoeuer her de∣uotion was inwardly, she would hold stil a faire Decorum in her Chappel in the Pomp thereof; retayning stil a stately Maiesty in the exteriour cere∣monyes; With this satisfying her self, that she complyed sufficiently with her obligations and her secular state, being the absolute Princesse and Dowager of that land.

Her daughter Agnes seemed to be ac∣cording to her hart, faire and bewtyful

indeed and as made for Courts; of a nature good enough and free of dis∣position; and might no doubt haue beene more Religious and retyred, had the Mother with studious education trayned her in it, as she left her too much to her owne inclinations; a fault too frequent euery where, in the breeding vp of Damselles; though here no further hurt ensued, then certeine antipathyes in her, with our Princely Virgin, to exercise her vertues with. These two then, being equalls euery way in that Court for yeares and respects, by the ordinance of the Mother were suted both alike, adorned alike with glitte∣ring coronets of gold and pretious ie∣wels on their heads, with bracelets, eare-rings, and carkanets the same: in a word, exteriourly in the habit, no difference to be seene, saue only in the inward habit of the mind, in the sight of God, and Angels. For they going once into the Temple on a solemne festiual day, (as their custome was,) so crowned and richly attired, and pas∣sing

immediatly before Sophia the la∣dy Mother: Elizabeth presently at her entering into the church, layd off her Coronet of gold, nor would she put it on againe til the Sacrifice was ended; and al that tyme most humbly and de∣uoutly demeaned her self, as she truly tooke it in the presence of her Sauiour, vntil at last she was admonished to go home.

This fact of hers, now much dis∣pleased Sophia, as an act at least of in∣discretion, or at the best vnaduisedly donne. Whereupon in tyme and place conuenient she tooke her aside, and peaceably and fairly demaunded of her, why she did so, saying. Daughter, what meant you the other day ente∣ring into the church to lay aside the Coronet you ware, was it a handsome sight trow you, in such a presence of the Estates, Counts, and Barons of our land to vndresse you in that manner in the view of al the people? To whom Elizabeth humbly made answeare. Madam, God forbid, I should be so irrreligious, if not impious, being such

a wretch as I am, to haue my head adorned with the splendour of a Cro∣wne, and to appeare in so proud and haughty an equipage, euen in the tyme and place, where my Sauiours head is so cruelly tormented and crowned with thornes. At which words was Sophias mouth immediatly stopt, what with the goodly reason she saw she had to checke her so; but happily car∣ryed it in mind, til an other tyme.

By which appeared what impression, euen in her tender yeares, the Thor∣nes of her Sauiours crowne did make in her hart, deepely wounding her mayden breast, through meditation of his Passion represented in the Sacrifi∣ce of the Masse. This compassion is an affect of the Soule which she had, wherwith shee ioyntly suffered with him, who suffered so, and transferred his dolours to her self; and to this end shee helped her self with these two things: first considering the quality of the person who endured: and second∣ly the greeuousnes of the paynes endu∣red: which shee did, pondering how

Christ our Lord suffered them, with∣out any succour of the Eternal Father, or his Disciples, considering also the delicacy of the cōplexion of his body; and how the interiour paynes of his soule were yet more greeuous then those of his sacred body▪ and these we∣re the thoughts that tooke vp her mind, during the Sacrifice of the Mas∣se: while Sophia perhapps through dis∣dayne was biting the lipp, and other Courteours whispering with them∣selues, as censuring hardly thereof, and murmuring against her.

For that indeed, as Enuy is the hand∣mayd of vertue, and wayting at her heeles, with meagre lookes: So was the innocent and douelike demeanu∣re of this Virgin, and her holy simplici∣ty in contempt with the Courteours attending on her; who began with bitter words, and secret taunts, yea most iniurious and contumelious speaches now and then, and that to her face also, to play vpon her with cauills, nods, fond laughters, scoffs, and gibes, at her hyppocritical

sanctity, as they would terme it. And that the rather in beholding Sophia her self with her il trayned daughter, to concurr with them, and openly as it were, to applaud them for it, being so opposit as they were to her in their conditions. For Elizabeth being now in contempt with her self, esteemed the vanity of the world as filth and dung; togeather with these excellen∣cies and preeminences of honour, and the pompes and gorgeousnes of attires: but they on the contrary, loued, reue∣renced▪ & esteemed nothing lesse, then what Elizabeth did loue, reuerence, & esteeme. She desired to please God only; but they, so they pleased the world, esteemed little to offend God. Thus the diuersity in their harts, cau∣sed a great dissimilitude, & Antipathy in their manners: so as hardly now, could they looke vpon her, with an equal eye, as cōmonly is wont in such occasions; laying open a large and spa∣cious field to the Virgin to exercise al vertues in, & no smal rock of scan∣dal to the other of their spiritual ruine;

if the Sacramēts repaired not the secret wracks of their soule which the Stilli∣cids of enuy had wrought, while her humility in her ordinary conuersa∣tion encreased the same.

For loe Elizabeth, leauing the cōpany of the Nobles, & such as rufled in their silks, and sauoured of their ciuets, and amber-gris, who were clad in purple, kissing the hand at euerie word, & ful of their courtly cōplemēts withal; affe∣cted rather the familiarity of the sim∣ple, and delighted more with the con∣uersatiō of poore women, & the more sober Damoselles of her age, discour∣sing with them of spiritual and pious things; then to tattle of this or that fas∣hion, or to vse those courtly exercises which her Sister Agnes & her like ap∣plied thēselues vnto. And hence it was that Sophia would often say to her la∣dyes, that Elizabeth should be placed among the Nunnes, since her manner of life, euen wholely resembled theirs, doing nothing worthy the greatnes of her House. Nay there were some of the Nobles, whose impudent boldnes

wee mentioned aboue, who stuck not to auouch, that Elizabeth, in respect the portion shee brought, was not answe∣rable to the Estate and dignity of their Prince; should eyther be sent back to Hangary againe, or be giuen in Maria∣ge to some other of the Nobility the∣re. Which words were so confidently and freely deliuered here and there, & vttered euery where, as they could not choose but come to the eares of the innocent Lady.

Now what should the Virgin do admidst those venemous & serpentine tongues, but as a Rose prickt with the thornes, wherewith it is beset, vent forth a sweeter odour of meekenes, by the wounds shee receiued from them, which without such occasions had layne as hid before; yet could shee not choose but weep of tēdernes, seeing her self so iniuriously contēned, especially by such, of whom in duety shee ought to bee honoured. And so much the ra∣ther as shee feared her constāt purpose of Humility, through their enuious •…•…raynes & wicked practises might co∣me

to suffer detriment. Til cōsidering with her self, how by these cōtempts, affronts, and humiliations, shee should the better resemble her Lord IESVS Christ, and his Apostles & Saints, & how they had passed thē al, and greater to; in respect whereof, these here were to bee esteemed as nothing. And weigh∣ing also how great a fauour & mercy it was to her from God, to be so cloa∣thed with his liuery: and that the indignityes offered her, were but as money or marchandise, wherewith heauen was to be purchased by her; that after the measure of thē, her glo∣ry should be rated, and that shee ought to hold any payne or mortification soeuer, as a pearle or pretious ruby of no lesse value and estimation, then heauen it self. And finally, that the traueils of this world, haue no comparison* 1.2 with the weight of glory, which is giuen for them, as S. Paul saith. She resolued at last, and purposed with the diuine grace, to suffer not only with patien∣ce, al manner of disgraces and affronts soeuer, but euen with cheerefulnes

and alacrity; it being the holy wil of God, yea more to desire & seeke them by al meanes possible without offence of hers; thereby to conforme her self the more to his diuine Maiesty: and so dryed vp her eyes, commending her case entirely to the diuine prouidence, resigning her self wholely to his wil, in these words.

O soueraigne Spouse of my hart. O suffer mee not to affect any thing inordinatly without thee; that is not wholy in order vnto thee; yea, that al things els whatsoeuer without thee, may bee vngrateful and bitter to mee, and thou only sweet. That thy wil bee mine, and this my desire withall; that as in heauen thy wil is punctually performed; so may it bee don likewise here on earth, and most particularly in mee. And since Loue requires an vnion, and a most entire resignation of al things into the hands of the beloued; I giue thee my whole self without reseruing ought to my self. And as before, so now do I offer thee a new; a ful affect

of pouerty; renouncing in hart al riches and pomps of the world; and if I had many worlds, I would leaue them al for thee and become poore, as thou wast poore for mee. O Spouse of my hart, so great is the loue I beare thee, and pouertie, for thy sake; that if it were possible, I would leaue to be what I am, to be transformed into thee. My enemyes seeke my ouer∣throw, and to entrap mee, and with their guiles to draw mee from thy ser∣uice. O let them not preuaile vpon my weaknes? but be thou a Rampart to mee against the assaults and batteries they lay against mee, to pul mee off from my setled purpose to follow thee as neerely as my state and condition wil permit. I trust thou wilt perfect what thou hast begun, and I shal re∣mayne victorious ouer al my Aduer∣saryes: This I beseech thee for thy Beloued Seruants sake, S. Iohn my venerable Patron; for the loue of thy dearest Mother; and aboue al, for thy most pretious Bloud, wherein I put my cheifest trust. Nor was she any whit

receiued, as shal appeare hereafter.

HOW THE YOVNG PRINCE, Lewes declared his affiction to Eliza∣beth, not withstanding the malignity of her Aduersaryes. CHAP. IIII.

BY this tyme, Lewes the Prince like a rising sunne began to draw the eyes of al vpon him, euery one admiring some excellence or other in him, as each apprehended excellence to bee. Some would note his goodly personage, some obserue the whole sy∣metry or due proportion of his body in the parts thereof; others his com∣plexion strong and robustious, his actiuity others, and dexterity in the manage of his horse. When hee was practising (though young) with the rest of his Nobles and pages of his Court, a man would haue thought him, as only made for martial exploits, and feats of Chiualry. But then in court to haue seen his faire behauiour,

his sweete disposition and affability to al, you would say that Mars had no part in him; but that hee had beene made for carpetts only, to comply with Ladyes; so ingenious and gratious he was in his discourse. But after that againe to haue seen him in the C appel, had been able to moue de∣uotion in the beholders, so deuout he would be at the solemne offices; so as then they would iudge him truly in his Element. And as hee was so pious and vertuous in himself, hee was highly beloued of al good and vertuous men, and a bridle to the vicious, to restrayne their exorbitances, through his rare exāple of modesty, Tēperāce, Meeknes Courtesy, Sobriety; & hence it was, he was so taken & enamoured with his chast Spouse his incōparable Eliza∣beth. Whō hee noted to be so eminent∣ly vertuous, as hee could not choose but effect & highly regard her; though he were otherwise so tēperat & discre∣te in his cariage towards her, as not a person in the world, nor yet the Spouse her self, could ghesse so much.

Which was the cause such diuers censures ran vpon the nullity of the Espousalls made betweene them in their Infancyes. For seeing such tem∣perance in the youthful Prince, so actiue otherwise, and ful of life, they iudged he had no liking to her, and that therefore hee would sure refuse her, when he came to mature age. Especially since Elizabeth his Espouse, was so aliened her self from that estate, as the company and society of men, seemed to be irkesome to her; much lesse that she would euer admit the maryed state; so as now in a manner she was held a Religious woman. And these discourses euery where, made the pious & discret Prince, the sooner to declare and expresse himself to the vertuous Elizabeth, as wel to giue satis∣faction to the world in that point; and stopp the diuers rumours and iudgments of men, as to satify his owne affection towards her, and to be secured of hers to him, which could not be without some manner of ex∣pression; and which now at last he

did discreetly, chastly, opportunely to the great contentment and ful satis∣faction of each other.

For lo this match of theirs, so made no doubt in heauen, receiued no lesse the fulnes of benediction from thence. So, as though she seemed otherwise in her life and example to haue beene vowed already to an other Spouse in heauen; yet was it so, as not in compati∣ble with an earthly Spouse, whose wil some way or other, was knowne to her, to be, it should be so; and that he was content with conditions hap∣pyly agreed betweene them, to haue a Riual for a tyme. How oft, alas, had the chast Elizabeth, in the closet of her hart put forth that Theame to be dis∣puted of, how oft had she concluded, now for the one side, and then agayne for the other; now it must be thus, now thus, now this, now that. Til at last knowing euidently as it were, the wil of God, which was the mayne ar∣gument of her assent to that estate; after she had resolued with her self, to harken to the Prince, she would

further satisfy her self with these morral reasons of inducements.

First, that Mariage was honorable as auncient as the world itself, raigned in the Law of Nature, the written Law, and now a holie Sacrament in the Law of grace, and a great mysterie betweene Christ and his Church. Se∣condly, that this Sacrament, is the roote of the faithful people, the Nur∣sery of Christianity, the soyle that brings forth Creatures, able to repayre the empty seate of the preuaricating Angels: The series of the lyuing stones wherewith the walls of Ierusalem are 〈◊〉〈◊〉. The very trunck whence yssued forth al the braunches, flowers, and fruits of the heauenly Paradice. The Spring whence al the brooks do flow, that water the Hierarchy of the Church. Then what an honour it was for Parents to bee cooperatours with God, in the most excellent work∣manshipp of the world, and cheife Maister-peece of the Vniuerse; which is mans body, the perfect and best organized of al bodyes; whereinto

being once formed, God infuseth the soule as a Margarit into the Mother pearle, which hee creates, and sends thereinto, a soule immortal, spiritual, and capable to know him, loue, and adore him. Then for the place of the Institution of Marriage, she found it to haue a singular prerogatiue, when she considered the same to haue beene established in the terrestrial Paradi∣se, the most delicious place of the world, a place most happy and re∣garded with the most fauourable in∣fluences of heauen, which, in the estate of Innocency was a happy and angeli∣cal state, if our first Parents had con∣stantly perseuered therein, and not lent their eares to the suggestions of Sathan. And though commonly it bee sayd, that Chastity replenisheth hea∣uen, and Marriage the earth. Which she easily graunted, since she held for certaine that without a chast and pure soule none can see the face of God, yet she knew wel, euen in those tender yeares of hers, to distinguish rightly of the triple chastity: Virginal, Coniugal

and vidual. She knew it to be most true, that chast continence reple∣nisheth not the earth, but heauen; but yet withal considered, how the Coniugal, by the earth, replenisheth heauen; and with yts fruits, reple∣nisheth and furnisheth both heauen and earth. For it furnisheth the ter∣restrial Ierusalem with soldiours, and the celestial with most noble and victorious Triumphers.

Now in regard these passages between the yong Prince and Prin∣cesse Elizabeth, as yet appeared not to the world by any outward signe, the Nobles and Courteours taking encou∣ragment from the cariages and depor∣tmens of Sophia and Agnes, who neuer left flerting and prouoking the inno∣cent Damosel, with taunts and quips to her face, but especially with bitter nips behind her back among them∣selues, the matter grew now to be common in mēs mouths, that the Lady Elizabeth should be sent into her Coun∣trey againe & the yong Prince was now to thinke of an other Spouse, more

competent for him, and deseruing his Princely Highnes. In regard her Portion (as they said) was too smal, •…•…nd the Virgin her self affected him not. That doubtles she was not for the world, & that the Prince would sure∣•…•…y neuer match with such an one, as •…•…ad no application to the world, much •…•…sse to the person of the Prince. Thus •…•…uerie one passed his censure on the •…•…atter, as it seemel most likley to him, •…•…nd indeed according to his perticular •…•…ffection. Whereas besides there was •…•…o want of those, who framed farr •…•…igher conceipts of the ancient Espou∣•…•…lls, solemly made in the face of •…•…e world in their tender infancyes, •…•…ith so general applause of either •…•…eople, at the intreaty of the old Lant∣•…•…raue Herman deceased, and not •…•…ithout the great contentment and •…•…atisfaction of Sophia her self, how∣•…•…euer now through dissimilitude of •…•…anners she fauoured not the allyāce, •…•…s before. But that which made the •…•…reatest impression with the grauest of •…•…hem, was the sage prediction and

prognosticat which Elinsor (whose credit & authority in those Northern parts was much respected) had made of her, and that contract I may say, euen before her Natiuity it self, as we haue mentioned aboue, which was no doubt a great motiue to the old Lantgra•…•…e of that so early a Match, made in their tender infancy and no∣nage.

Among these, there was one Gualter a great Peere of the State, who much misliked such rumours should bee bruited euery where to the preiu∣dice as he tooke it of the innocent Virgin, and no smal disparagement to the young Prince; that so excellent a peece of grace and Nature as the Lady Elizabeth was, should so lightly bee prized now, which heeretofore was hopefully admitted into their land as a faire benediction and future happynes vnto it. Wherefore being directed (as it should seeme) by the fingar of God, in behalf of the innocent, and for the singular loue he bare vnto his Prince; taking a faire occasion and fit oppor∣tunity,

said thus vnto him. My Liege, I trust the auncient seruices I haue done to your deceased Father the re∣nowned Lantgraue of happy memory; and the Princely fauours I haue re∣•…•…eiued from his hands in liew thereof; wil preoccupat for' mee and preuent •…•…ny sinister suspition of my Loyalty •…•…owards the person of your self, in whom I behold the true and liuely •…•…igure, & pourtraict of the great Her∣•…•…an himself; and that as I loued & honoured him aliue, I must •…•…eeds likwise honour him in your per∣•…•…onage, in whom so perfectly he liues. Which layd as a good foundation, I •…•…ust my boldnes with your Highnes wil come off the better, when I shal •…•…resse the same, with a matter of im∣•…•…ortance, not knowing yet how gra∣•…•…eful my officiousnes may proue vnto our Highnes. Laying then ambages side, I come to the point, which in cō∣•…•…dence is to vnderstand your pleasure & princely disposition, touching your •…•…pouse in Court. I say, to know what •…•…our inclination is towards her; to wit,

whether in your election, you wil ra∣tify yonr Fathers choyce of her for a Spouse, and second the general ap∣plause thereof through the world, or proceed to a new election of an other, more worthy in your eyes. And this the rather I vrge your Highnes with, for that it is generally voyced abroad, (vpon what ground I know not) your Highnes meanes to retract from the auncient Espousalls, and to seeke a new.

To which the Prince with colour in his cheekes of a mayden blush, sweetely made answere, but breifely, as became him. My Lord, I thanke you for your loving care of our ho∣nour and cheifest good in this life, and for a ful satisfaction to your de∣maund, take this frō mee: You see yon Mountayne there: I tel you truly, were it al of gold, and al the stones most pretious Rubyes and carbuncles; yet I prize and set by more, those auncient Spousalls made betweene vs, then such an one; and that he would shortly giue to vnderstand what litle recko∣ning

he made of such fond bablings of the enuious and maleuolent; and would make his affection to the Virgin yet more manifest to the world. May it please your Highnes answered Gual∣ter, that I signify so much to the Lady Elizabeth her self. To which the Prince condiscended, and to giue his words more credit with her, went to his Clo∣set and fetched out a iewel of no smal worth; and sent it by him to his deare Elizabeth, as a token and pledge of his affection to her. It was a mirrour or glasse, garnished with stones of ine∣stimable value as in a tablet, with two Christals opening of each side; One simple to looke into and behold one self in; and a Christ crucified most cu∣riously & artificiously wrought on the other. This token the Baron tooke ioy∣fully in his hāds, & making his Obeis∣sance to him, thought it long til he had deliuered his Embassage, for he was one that truly honoured the happy couple.

At last, he comes vnto her presen∣ce, and in a gratious sort deliuered the whole discourse vnto her, in manner

as it passed betweene the Prince and him; and withall, presented her the foresaid Iewell; which shee tooke into her Virgin hands, as sent from heauen; not without a crimson blush; so to haue discouered her conceiued ioy in a matter of that nature; giuing the Noble man many thanks for his louing care of her honour, and his traueills taken on her behalf, prote∣sting shee would remember him if shee were able, at least with her poore vnworthy prayers for him to her hea∣uenly Spouse. Madam, sayd he, I take you at your last, & so departed from her presence. When it cannot bee ima∣gined, what ioy the Virgin tooke here at, seeing her self now almost put into possession of her harts content; since now at last besides the enioying of such a freind, shee hoped her enemyes would come to haue their mouths stopt, who had so maliciously presaged of her; & that which pleased her most; was, shee hoped therby to haue a lar∣ger scope to serue her beauēly Spouse, noting the Prince to be so vertuously disposed of his owne inclination.

After which, she being now of yeares compleate, to be ioyned in mariage, the Prince hasted the Nuptialls as soone as might bee, & if there were so much pomp, at her enterance into that State, as wee haue sayd aboue, shee being then a Child, & her Spouse but an In∣fant likewise, as Roses in their bud; You may iudge the solemnityes of the Nuptiall pomps; they being now as ful blowne Roses exposed to the view of the whole world. When to the confu∣siō of the ill affected, to that most hap∣py co niunction of the Alman & Hun∣garian Starrs; the Prince declared by that publique Act of his, how farr they were mistaken & deceiued, in their so maleuolous Omens of the match; who so temerariously had passed their cen∣sures on the Princely Payre; shewing moreouer & manifestly declaring, that hee neither respected wealth, beauty, nor Nobility of stock, so much in the choyce of his Spouse, though all were competently at least, if not eminently found in her: as her religious sim∣plicity and integrity of mynd, matched

with a Princely Maiesty triumphing ouer the world, and the Vanityes thereof.

HOw ELIZABETH BEING maryed, remitted not her deuotions a whit; and how shee caryed her self in her Mortifications. CHAP. V.

WHEN the Angell Raphael, discouered himself to T•…•…by; he said, that Prayer was good with* 1.3 fasting: Which Fasting is commonly vnderstood by the Fathers, to bee all manner of pēnance, and mortification of the flesh. Which Eliz. considering, and weighing the great importance, Prayer and Mortification were of, to the atteyning of perfection, which in that very state, shee aymed at: She now applied her self more seriously thē euer to the exercize of these two meanes, so efficacious to obteine her end. For tru∣ly, shee was so farr frō slacking a whit her former desires, as now they began

to breake forth into open flames of feruourous acts, being neuer wel but when some wayes or other, shee practi∣zed the works of either Vertues.

For first shee fed her mind with thae heauenly and delicious viandes, of sweete contēplation, deuoutly medita∣ting the points of the foure last things, to make her self vigilant and cautious. Or the mysteries of the Life & Passion of our Lord, to breed Cōpassion in her gentle breast: Or the Life of our Lady & the Saints, to patterne or frame her Life by. For as for higher speculations of the diuine attributes, as yet her yea∣res would not beare them; Or if they would, her singular humility permited her not to looke so high; contenting her self with the Doue, to abide in the holes of the rock Christ IESVS; and to dwell in his Wounds. For which end, shee exercized her body with watchings, macerations, and fasts. For euen then she began, to aban∣don the softnes and deliciousnes of her downy bed, fearing least by pam∣pering the flesh so much, shee might

vnworthy of the Loue of Christ. And therefore shee would often steale from the Princes bed, and did it so cunnin∣gly indeed, that likely he was not aware thereof, when shee thought shee had gotten a great purchase, to winne so much tyme vnknown to her Spouse, to attend more freely to the traffique of her soule, without any danger of vaine glory therein; sometymes shee was taken in the act of stealing forth, & then shee would be sad, to be so discouered in her pious endeauours, but yet would •…•…raue his licence to proceede notwith∣standing, which shee did most se∣riously, and often obteyned her desire of the good Prince: somtymes againe shee would steale forth to prayer, when shee thought him a sleepe, or he but dissembled the matter, and then reioyce in her hart, as much as before. And againe sometymes wel knowing the good disposition in the Prince, shee would plainely begg, and hee as freely permitt, shee might rise in the night, or early in the morning, to giue her

self to Prayer, and to commend her estate, and actions to God.

The Prince howsoeuer he approued these deuotions, yet affecting her so dearly as he did; could not choose but admonish her sometymes, to temper and moderate the excesse shee vsed, eyther in the tyme or intensnes of her prayer; discreetely aduising her to beware shee empayred not the health of that her weake & feeble body. But what gayned he by it, but a fuller sa∣tisfaction in his conscience, to haue sweetely admonished her of the perils, which are ordinarily incident to the Seruants of God, in the way of perfe∣ction; referring the rest to his diuine pleasure, so pious hee was. While she, guided by the Holy Ghost noe doubt, pursued her course, or increased it rather with the more caution, & grea∣ter circumspection not to offend her husband in the least, whom shee ho∣noured so much. And to auoyd sloath and sleepynes, to the end shee might rise in the night, and not neglect her religious custume of nigthly prayer;

shee gaue order to her Mayds to awake her, at a certaine tyme, when shee ap∣pointed to arise, Which to bee done more priuily; and that her watching and nightly rising might the better be kept from her Lord the Prince. Shee tooke one of her Mayds aside, in whom shee had greater cōfidence, then in the rest; coniuring her thus.

Thou knowest Isentrude (for so was her name) what trust I haue alwayes re∣posed in thee, and here I acknow∣ledge how faithfull I haue found thee hitherto; I must now therefore com∣mend a new Office to thee, to bee my Alarum in the night, yf I bee not vp, by such an hower: and to haue it donne more secretly; my wil, is, that thou shoudst awake mee, in giuing mee a remembrance at least, by pulling mee by the Toes, at the Bedds feete; for feare I disturbe and awake my Lord. The faithfull Ser∣uant apprehended her streight, and assumed the charge,

and diligently performed it a good while togea∣ther, til at last, being once mis∣taken

I know not how), shee tooke the Prince by the toe insteed of her; Who awaking therat, and perceiuing the matter, was not a whit displeased therewith, as being acquainted with her custome of arising in the Night to Prayer.

Which custome continually so preuailed vpon her, and her feruours therein now grew so great, as shee was not contented, that by stints and turnes to enioy these vicissitudes of rest, and rising in the night; but in the absence of the Prince shee was often found by her Mayds sleeping on a Car∣pet spread and extēded on the ground, when finding her self through a fre∣indly and louing liberty of theirs, to be handsomely checked and rebuked by them, as fearing least such manner of austerities might breede her harme and some great inconuenience to her. Her answere was, shee reaped a dou∣ble fruite and commodity by it. First that shee lesse regarded her bed▪ And secondly, abstained from the soft∣nes of those downes, or the approach

of her husband; that her mynd more easily and freely might apply it self to heauenly thoughts and spirituall exer∣cizes, so opposit to sense, softnes, and carnall delights.

She would often complayne, shee was vnworthy to dedicate her virgi∣nity when tyme was, to her heauenly Spouse; and yet loued her Lord no whit the lesse; from whom she would willingly neuer be absent; euen when hee tooke any iourney in hand, were it in frost or snow, heate, or cold, or any stormy weather soeuer. For shee well vnderstood his company de∣barred nor hindered her at all from her exercize of watching and Prayer, and the sweete Embraces of her hea∣uenly Spouse; wherein shee daylie encreased so much, as now shee tooke vp streighter austerityes and afflictions to macerate more that in∣nocent body of hers, to whipp her self euery Friday in the yeare, in me∣mory of the Passion of her deare Sa∣uiour: which in the Lents and often∣tymes in the nights when shee arose,

was don by her Mayds to humble and confound her the more, and yet with a meruailous chearefulnes and sweetnes shee suffered all; obliging them to a perpetuall si∣lence.

HOVV ELIZABETH SVBMITS her self to the Obedience of one Conrad, a religious Priest: and what followed thereof. CHAP. VI.

ALmightie God, hath so orde∣red, and disposed of things, in the faire Oeconomy of his diuine prouidence; touching the way and Life to be led and traced by mor∣talls in this world; that none may be his owne Guide, nor yet rely on his proper knowledge; or trust to his prudence. And if this be so in generall, how much more

in the way of spirituall perfection, can one walke without a true, since∣re, discreet, and prudent Guide in a spiritual life. For alas how hard a thing it were for a man, as wel out of passion, as self-loue, to know the defects of the mind, and to perswade himself hee hath any; and therefore the amendement of them, in a man∣ner becomes impossible. What ne∣cessity each one hath to bee assisted in this point we may imagine: For if the sicke and infirme for the great desire they haue to be cured, bee con∣tent to submitt themselues to the bitter Pills and Receipts of the Phisi∣tian, and oftentymes to the launcings and incisions of the sharpe knife for a present ease, or at most for a momen∣tary life, what should we do in the matter of Saluation, and eternal life. But seeke a Reuerend, learned, and a pious Phisitian of our soule to deale with, when especially eternall happynes, or euerlasting misery de∣pends thereon. Not only to lay open the soares of our conscience to him,

in matter of sinnes, and temptations; but euen also of penances, mortifica∣tions, deuotions, & in all other things wherein a man may easely digresse, & step asi le from the right path, not only of sanctity and perfection, but euen of necessary saluation it self. Wereby we walking more securely in the way of God, may be apter to receiue the diuine graces, since with this resigna∣tion and act of Humility, and this holy hatred of our selues, (besides the keeping and preseruing the soule for eternal life) God is exceedingly pleased therewith, and by meanes of such spi∣ritual Phisitians; and faithful Inter∣preters of his wil, the more cleerely he manifests to vs, what we ought to do.

Such a Guide now had Elizabeth great neede of, to gouerne her amid such new deuotions and feruours, eue∣ry day so taken vp by her, least that which was intended for her greater good and aduancement in spirit, for want of such a Guide or Directour, might redound to the greater dam∣mage, or at least degenerate in spiritual

gluttony. And this is that, which the Prince seemed to intimate to her, while he admonished her to moderate her feruours. When loe much about that tyme, came thither a Priest as dropt from heauen, called Conrad of Marpurge; a most worthy and famous personage, both in his exemplar man∣ner of life, and eminent Learning; being sent by his Holynes at that tyme, to preach the word of God, throughout the Prouinces of Germany. Who preuayled so much through the singular gift hee had in preaching, and the Authority he purchased by it; that he no lesse repressed rebellious minds with a strickter hand held vpon them, a grauity of aspect, and powerful presence, then he attracted and comforted the obedient with his lenity and sweete proceedings with euery one. His life was fully answe∣rable to the doctrine hee preached, and his works to the words he vtte∣red. His eloquence or grace in spea∣king was such, as was not easy to bee iudged which the greater: his learning

or feruour in the pulpit, which the more; or whether he were more happy in priuate discourses to winne & allure the hard vnto him; or more successe∣full in preuayling with them, through force of the eminent tallents he had, especially in guiding and gouerning soules. Hee wholely contemned wealth and honours, riches, and di∣gnityes, and had an extraordinary zeale of christian Religion. Hee was besides a fatall Enemy and a mayne impugner of Heretiques; nor was he euer noted, ambitiously to seeke for Ecclesiasticall lyuings ▪ or the spiri∣tuall goods of the Church for his owne vse, or vse of his Nephewes or Kindred, or so much as to accept of what was freely offered him in that or any of the like kind. His apparrel was sutable & agreeable with the decenter sort of the Clergy in those tymes, nor exceeded the cōmoner sort of the gra∣uer of them. His table frugal, the dif∣cipline of his house hold very Regular & good; in a word a very absolute & compleat Ecclesiastique; & worthy to

haue▪ sit in the highest chayrs of Pon∣tifical dignity; which surely he had, if his disposition of shuning Prelacyes, had not been too wel known to the world.

To this worthy man, and eminent Starre of the Church, the noble and vertuous Lewes, vpon knowledge of his so rare worths, being now grow∣ne into some familiarity with him, and hee againe very grateful to both the yong Princes, and the whole Court of Thuringia, gaue leaue to bestow at his pleasure, and his owne discretion the whole gouernement and superin∣tendency of all the Churches and Ad∣uowsons of Benefices, which in his State were remayning in his hands. And whereas the Lady Elizabeth her self with consent of the Prince, re∣quested the venerable Father, with much instance, to receiue her into his charge; he graunted it, so shee pro∣mised such obedience to him, as might stand with her Mariage estate which shee vowed deuoutly, and performed exactly indeed, not only for the few

yeares the Prince liued with her, but euen after his decease likewise; and then much more readily, punctually, and absolutely, then euer.

Now then, after this reuerend Priest had taken her to his charge, to guide and gouerne her in the way of spirit, and that shee had deliuered vp herself wholy into his hands, to be di∣rected by him, the good Father per∣ceiuing her good, desires, and noting how prosperously shee had succeeded hitherto, through the especial assistan∣ce of the Holy 〈◊〉〈◊〉; began to conceiue very highly of his new charge; ima∣gining with himself, much fruite might be wrought with such, a sub∣iect, & therefore determined to vse al diligence hee was able, to aduance to some degree of perfection, noting such singular and most eminent seeds of grace to be sowne already in the fertil soyle of her prompt and ready soule. And shee of the other side, hauing thus made a surrender of herself, who∣ly and entirely vnto him, to be ruled and gouerned by him: disposed her

self to be most punctuall in obseruing his behests, and to regard him as an Angell sent from heauen, to guide her in the path way of perfection.

How after many other practises of lesse moment vsed by the good Father, in dealing with this soule, wherein hee found her stil to come with great facility in the exercise of all ordinary vertues; he began to proceed more stricktly & imperiously with her, to put her to the touch and triall of her true vertue and sanctity in deede. When behold a conuenient occasion thereof represented it self to him, and this it was.

The good Father on a tyme was to preach (as he was ordinarily wont) of heauenly things, when especially hee cōmanded this Seruant of Christ, not to fayle to be present thereat; & whe∣ther it were that he knew before the necessary occasiō she had, to be absent or no, can no mantel▪ this only appea∣res, that shee by accident fayling to be present at that tyme, through the vnexpected arriuall of her husbands Sister; in great displeasure, as it were

he sent her a sharpe rebuke, and as to one disobedient sent her word, he would neuer command her any thing more, who for so slight an occasion had broken her promise of obedience to him; and now shee might vse •…•…er owne liberty againe, as shee would her self, signifying withal, he could by no meanes take it wel at her hands, to bee so slightly regarded by her.

At which message, you may imagine how Elizabeth was stung to the quick, and grieued in her Soule, & thereupon went immediately in all hast to her Maister, (for so shee vsed to cal him,) with her eyes cast downe to the groūd for shame, as not daring to looke him in the face, she humbly craued pardon of him; from whom when the angry Father, as in disdayne turned his face away; the humble creature not res∣pecting her birth and dignity, fel downe at his feete, and would not rise till at last, through her humilia∣tion shee obtayned; pardon acknow∣ledging her errour therein, with all submissiō, but priuatly chid her mayds in a sweete complayning manner,

through whose occasion (as shee made it appeare vnto them,) shee had com∣mitted the offence.

It is the property of the tenderest consciences, especially in their first conuersions, to bee apt to scruples, which is a meere trick of the enemy of their good resolutions, to make them either wholy to break with them, or if they wil needs proceed therein, to take away the sweetnes they should otherwise find in the seruice of God, & the way of perfection. This then was it, which troubled so our new Nouice, & Disciple here in the schoole of Con∣rad, who being warned by him, not to eate of meates purchased either by vio∣lence or any kind of oppression; and sitting at table (contrary to the custo∣me of such Royal personages) the very next to the Prince himself, through the extraordinary loue that was betweene thē, shee incurred many greeuous scru∣ples, fearing to touch now this, now that kind of meate, where to abstayne from al, as shee was not bound, so in that same place shee could not do it.

Two of her Mayds were ioyned with her in this kind of abstinence, for whose quiet, besides her owne, shee fully prouided for, and therefore pro∣cured their dyet to bee prepared a part togeather with hers; & to be allowed them out of her kitchin. Wherein shee had likewise good experience of the Princely disposition of her husband in such things, & of his singular fauours towards her, in these and the like oc∣casions. For if any thing had been ser∣ued into the table that might breed any scruple in her; he would certify her of it, either with a winke or nod or some other signe. And of his owne accord would haue obliged himself to the same abstinence, had he not been hindred & crossed therin; by the misinterpretatiō of some of his Nobility, who ascribed the same no whit to Religion, or any deuotion in her, but to meere supersti∣tion & folly; protesting he would ere •…•…ong, embrace it himself, exhorting her maydes to go on with their purpose; since himselfe likewise would shortly •…•…e one of their number. And as for

Elizabeth her self, shee would often en∣quire, in the Visitts of the Offices of the houshold, what prouisions were made of meate & drinke; & whether instly or vniustly they were purueyd or no; & when shee was satisfyed, al was wel, with great ioy she certified & secu∣red her Mayds thereof, saying. To day, God be thāked, we shal fare very wel.

In the principal Feasts, indeed, shee was likely put to her shiftes, in the as∣sembly of many of the States & Peeres of the Realme, how to dissemble her abstinence, not only from meates for∣bidden by obediēce, but euen likewise from such as were lawful, and fit to be eaten, when they were either costly or deinty, or any wayes curious & not or∣dinary. For then, to dissemble her ab∣stinence from al such dishes, according to her pious & deuout resolutiōs made for the Loue of God; she would either discourse with the guesse, or els talke with the Prince at table, or bee car∣uing the daintyest morsels to others, or drinke to friends, according to the manner of that countrey, or els send forth her Mayds vpon sleeueles errands

here and there, or change her trencher very often, and would vse a thousand other inuentions to deceiue her appe∣tite, & the eyes of the Guesse & weigh∣ters, so ingenious is a mortified creatu∣re, disposed to deny, & barre it self of al that is dainty or delicate: so as while others had been glutted with the choy∣cest meates, she very often would arise a hungry, & go to her chamber, where she fed very sauourly on bread & hony & sometymes be contented with a bare crust, & that very often of Rye bread, and a cup of the smalest wine. When∣soeuer shee dined or supped by her self and not with the Prince her husband, shee would fare very coursely & poo∣rely, togeather with her said Mayds, whō she had as cōpanions of her disci∣pline, & order of abstinēce so taken vp amōgst thē. And not to charge the Lāt∣graue her husband with extraordinary expences in this kind of special dyet, betweene themselues, shee caused the same to be alowed her out of her owne rents, though her husband allwayes offered them some daintyes or others

to mend their commons, which they would neuer accept. If shee knew of any, who had wrongfully lost any part of his goods, shee presently caused (if it lay in her power) the whole losse to be restored him againe, so as the party seemed to haue only but exchanged his goods, and not lost them at all.

HOVV ELIZABETH CONTEM∣nes all brauery and vanitie of Apparell, perswading other Ladyes to do the same. CHAP. VII.

THough the glorious and bewtiful Hester, for God and her countryes seruice, put herself into sumptuous & gorgeous attires, yet shee did it with griefe & repugnancy in her self, prote∣sting in the presence of Almightie God that from her hart shee detested the diadem shee ware. The like Elizabeth vsed to do, when shee dressed her self more richly and curiously then ordi∣nary as shee was forced somtymes, to giue satisfaction to the world, and

to couer the humility of her hart, for now began the eyes of men to bee cast vpon her as a yong Saint. Til at last, on a certaine solemne, feast being richly attred with princely Robes, and wearing a crowne of gold on her head, attended with a stately traine of her houshold, and some other of the Nobility, entering into the Church, to heare the diuine Office, & espying the crosse with the •…•…mage of our Sauiour hanging thereon, on the Rood-lost, being suddēly moued to compunction thereat, fel a weeping, and weeping entred into th•…•…se cogitatious.

Alas, behold how my Creator & Redee∣mer, hangs naked on the crosse, dying thereon a most shameful and oppro∣brious death for my sake, while I a vile and wretched synner, attired with silk and purple, and adorned with •…•…ewells, liue vainely, rather then lead a life worthy a Christian, much lesse of a Seruant of God, especially deuoted and consecrated in desire at least to a state of greater perfection. Acrowne of thornes, pricked his head in Pilates

howse, and looke how he weares it while I am dressed with a Coronet of gold, he my God, for mee is as forsaken abandoned of his friends & disciples, and ignominiously entreaded by the Iewes with whips and scourges, looke how the blood runnes trickling from him, while I heere am guarded and attended on, with a goodly family of seruants about mee, wayting my plea∣sure, euery one striuing to magnify and honour mee in what they may: Is this the feruour of the Loue I beare him? Is this the gratitude I repay him with? Is this the requital of the loue he hath borne mee? Alas poore wretch as I am! O wo to mee vnfortunate wretch! And do I thus obey his pre∣cepts: thus cal to mind his benefitts receiued: thus follow his steps; who created mee, when I was not, and of nothing, made mee such as I am, and when I was lost redeemed mee with his precious bloud? O wretch!

These meditations and internal colloquyes with the present Crucifix, were so vehement with her, that shee

was absorpt as it were, and without sense, when suddenly her strength fayling her, and her face now pale and wan, shee fel to the ground, as without life, whereat al the company of Lords and Ladyes about her being terribly affrighted and amazed, tooke her vp from the ground, and cast holy water on her: When their astonishmēt was passed ouer, shee returned to her self againe. And euer after, remayned with such a horrour and detestation against al vanity, that as if shee had been admonished by some diuine Ora∣cle, shee abstayned from al sumptuous apparel, as much as her state and dignitie would permit, so as many tymes shee ware vnder her silks ve∣ry sharpe and cruel cilices. And if at any tyme, through the length of any iourney, which her husband was to take, shee could not accompagny him, staying at home; shee layed aside al costly attires, being contented to haue the courser habits without tincture, but meerely of their owne natiue colours, not differing a whit from

the common weare, of the ordinary people of that countrey. When being so alone, through vse of Prayer and frequent meditation, through multi∣plying disciplines, through prolon∣ging her vigils, and nightly watches, shee so subdued the flesh to the spirit, and mortified the alluring & enticing delights of the flesh, that might haue tempted her, amidst occasions in the court, •…•…hee being so yong and delicate of complexion, as shee seemed to be rather a claustrial Widow, or recluse Auchorite, shut vp in walls, then a Lady of the court, or especially the Princesse thereof. This shee did in the absence of her Lord only: but at his returne; shee put on againe more fitting cloathes, to giue content to her husband, and the rest of the court; which shee for vertues sake, and affect of pouerty; for so long tyme had layd aside; declaring thereby, what became a vertuous and chast wife to do, as wel in the absence of her husband abroad, as in his presence at home.

Shee also, endeauoured both by

word and example, to draw some No∣ble Ladyes of the court, with whom shee was familiarly conuersant, from their excesses in rich apparel: telling them with effectual discourses, many excellent points and reasons against it; especially for Christians, professing to be the mēbers of Christ; declaring how vnfitting it was, he being our head, & crowned with thornes, that our bo∣dyes should be so softly entreaded, acknowledging our selues to bee his members. She would bring in the ex∣ample of Rachael, as a patterue of wo∣manly* 1.4 modesty & sobriety; how shee couered her face with her mantle in the sight of her Spouse: that they at least should not expose their beauty to the view of Strangers, by adorning and setting it forth, & making ostentation thereof, by borrowed and counterfeyt shadowes or lusters of rich array, when they are rather to hide euen that which nature warrants them to auow: vnlesse with Dina, desiring to see, and to be seene, they come to meete with occasions as she did, to loose the iewel

of their virginal integrity.

Shee remembred them withal, what S. Hierome said, as shee heard once in a Sermon which her Maister preached, discoursing of the penitent state and plight, wherein Magdelen was prostrate at the feete of Christ, washing them with her teares, and drying them againe with the hayre of her head. That she was so much the fayrer as lesse deckt. How Hester and Iudith, going to pray, cloathed them∣selues in sackcloth, and dolfully sprin∣ckled ashes on their heads, in witnes of the state of human condition, & their owne dust and ashes. How Sainct Paul willeth women to performe at least* 1.5 their deuotions in the church, in attires that testify shamefastnes and modesty, not with frizled hayre, or with gold or pearles, or pretious garments. She added withal, how this gold, was to be left in the bowels of the earth, yts pro∣per place, and pearles in their shells, in the bottome of the seas: and how this sumptuous apparel belongs to Pagans & Infidells, who make an Idol of their body, and dresse it vp to adore it after∣wards

because indeed they know not Christ, nor aspire to the seruice of the true God, who is to be honored with simplicity and integrity of the body & mynd, & not with plumes so borrowed of the birds of the ayre, drosse of the earth, or fishes of the Sea, concluding her speach at last with that terrible menace of the Prophet Esay against the* 1.6 Daughters of Syon: which her Maister had often thundered in her eares.

With these, and such like rea∣sons, the wife and discreet Dutchesse softned the harts of some of the La∣dyes, and made them to relent and remit somwhat of the excesse they vsed in braue attyres, now leauing off one thing, and then an other, that they might not sudenly seeme to make such a change al at once, and might the lesse be perceiued; so that ere long, an admirable change was made in that court, from gorgeous dressings, to a decenter manner of habit, partly through the example it self of their La∣dy, and of the sainctly life shee led, and partly also for those reasons

alleadged by her, against such excesses, It cannot be told, what comfort the Princesse her self tooke at this holsome change which shee presently aduerted: and therefore taking more courage, to ascend to higher points of perfection with such as were capable thereof, shee tooke a faire occasion and opportunity with the yonger and tenderest of them, to fal in commendation of the Single life, but especially aduancing beyond measure, the Virginal state. To which purpose shee brake forth in this māner. You may thinke maydens,

that what I shal say, perhapps, may not wel proceed from my mouth: who in fact haue em∣braced an other state, then what I com∣mēd vnto you. But this, good sisters, must I tel you, by the way, it is no precept at al▪ but meerely a counsaile. And al are not worthy and capable thereof, then let thē take the same, that can take it; among whō, good sisters, I haue allwayes reckoned my self the vnworthyest. And therefore, I would not haue you to wonder a whit, or hold my words in lesse regard, if I seeme to cōmend one

thing, and choose and embrace the cō∣trary my self. The thing then, I aduise you, is to a perpetual Virginity of mynd and body. For this is the noblest degree of al Chastity: consisting formally in a perpetual purpose, to abstayne from al carnal delectation, being a special ver∣tue, and the principal point thereof; whereto is promised the fruite of a hundred fold, & is reserued for such as keepe it entirely. It is the flowre of the Ecclesiastical Stemm, the Beauty and splēdour of the spiritual grace, the most illustrious portion of the Redemption of IESVS. This Virginity, is most amia∣ble in it self: sweet as the sauour of the odoriferous Balme, wherewith as the bodyes embalmed, are preserued from the teint of any corruption, so by it, are no lesse preserued both the spirit and body, & the vertues & humane actions conserued, most pure in the sight of God, who restraynes & contaynes the sences & appetites, in a singular cādour and beautyful lustre, representing the state of the immortal glory. Chastity, & specially entire Virginity, is it, which

takes yts origen from the kingdomes of the heauens which makes you May∣dens of earth, as wholy celestial & an∣gelical. For what is more beautyful, trow you, or more resplendant then Chastity and true Virginity, which trans∣formes a Virgin, to an Angel. A chast Virgin indeed being a terrestrial An∣gel, & an Angel being none other then a celestial virgin, different truly one frō the other, but in happines and felicity only, in nature and not in vertue. For, if the Chastity of the Angel be more happy in it self, yet that of the Virgin in earth is confessed to be stronger, in cōbating continually against the intestine and forreine assaults of the flesh. And is so faire and goodly a vertue indeed, that as material whitnes or the colour of white in yt self, is the chiefe among al colours, and the very foundation of al the rest: So is Chastity, the spring and foundatiō of al good works. And lastly Chastity, is a glorious vertue, the my∣racle of grace, the singular fruit of the Passiō of Iesus, of the nature of Angels, the sacred Sanctuary of the holy Trinity,

the Bed and Couch, of more then Sa∣lomon, strewed al with flowers. Loue then, ô Virgins, this so noble a vertue of Virginity, prise this pretious gemme and iewel of Chastity, cherish the same farre more then the apple of your eyes, yea more life yt self, the most inestimable of sublunary things.

Thus spake the Princesse Elizabeth, to the Mayds of honour about her, and they as seriously gaue attention to her. It can not be told, how their harts were now enflamed with the Loue of Chastity, & perpetual Virginity; insomuch as diuers of them were mo∣ued thereby, to embrace that counsaile, and through the helpe and assistance of their Lady were admitted into cloysters to become Religious. Which fauour and benefit next to God and the im∣maculate Queene of Virgins, they ackno∣wledged from her. Thus shee spent her tyme in Court, & thus happily suc∣ceeded her faire endeauours. With this ardent affect of Chastity, shee had the affect of fecundity also, and with the merit of a votiue and no vowed

Chastity, shee had the blessing of mate∣rial fruictfulnes. There neuer was a creature caryed her self more euen betweene her heauenly and earthly Spouse then Elizabeth did, shee rendred so her debts, as shee defrauded neither, & therefore was blessed from heauen, with three children by the Prince her husband Lewys, the Lantgraue of Thu∣ringia. First with a Sonne named Her∣man, who succeeded his father in the Dukedome; and then two Daughters, one whereof was giuen in Mariage, to the Duke of Brabant then lyuing; & the other admitted into a Monastery of Religious women, where in tyme shee was chosen to be the Lady Abbesse of the howse, and where shee gouerned the family most religiously, not vnlike to the Daughter of such a Mother.

Her manner was, after shee was brought to bed, and delinered, and the rights of churching ended, to take her little Babe, and carry it in her armes & going barefoote, & clad with an hum∣ble garment of home-made cloth, with a slender retinew about her, descend

downe a rocky & steepy hil, & there en∣ter into the church. Where Masse being ended, shee would offer the same vpon the Aultar, with a waxen taper burning in her hand, and then as shee returned home againe, giue her gowne & veyle to the next poore Woman shee met.

WHAT CHARITY ELIZA∣beth shewed to her Neighbour: & how shee gaue the Cloathes from her back to the poore. CHAP. VIII.

NO doubt, but the good father Conrad, had giuen to the Lady Elizabeth, many singular documents of the theoricke of al vertues, and that by the vse of Prayer and meditation shee had got many rare principles of spe∣culatiue knowledge, of the diuine at∣tributes, and the infinite perfections of God, and many practical Rules besi∣des of true and solid vertues. Yet as reasons and considerations suffice not to take away feare which is natural to man, but it is needful also to apply some outward remedyes: as to bid

them to approach neerer to the thing they apprehend to be a Phantasme, and to touch it with the finger, to try and see by experience, that there is no cause of feare, and al to be nothing els but meerely imagination and their owne apprehensions. So likewise to loose the opinion and estimation we haue of the world and of al worldly honour and vaine pompe, and to make vs to set litle by them, neither reasons nor yet considerations suffice; but the acts of humility, which are the most principal & efficacious meanes, we can vse of our part to obtayne the same; the thing which this good lady aymed at, in al the whole course of her life. For, as sciences and Arts are purchased with exercise, so like∣wise the morral vertues are not truly gayned, but by frequent external acts in the same vertues. As for one to be a good Musitian, good Artizan, or a good Rhetorician, or Philosopher, he had need to exercise himself wel to at∣tayne perfection therein.

Now Elizabeth, hauing in truth for

her principal scope to Loue God aboue al things, and the Neighbour as her self; conceiuing very wel how the same, consisted not so much in docu∣ments alone, or meere speculations, as in putting the same into outward practises, and to effect: and that ver∣tues are not kindly indeed, but with habits; and habits not purchased (as I sayd) without frequent acts of the same vertues. Though her mind were wel inclined to pious works, and works of mercy to the poore, and such as were impotent and diseased any wayes, yet shee satisfied not her self with that pious effect only towards them, as thinking it not sufficient not to oppresse any, and to passe by, and say, God help you, to such as shee knew to be in any distresse, or which is more, not contented to perswade others, or to inuite them to be pittiful and helpful to the poore and necessi∣tous, but releiued them her self with her owne hands: So as, that saying of Iob very aptly agreed* 1.7

with her. From myne infancy, pitty and compassion hath been bred in mee: and from the womb of my Mother, it grew vp with mee. And to the end, this vertue of Compassion, might not be fruitles and barren in her, a singular Libera∣lity was annexed to it, to which the Princes free disposition concurring, made her works to the Neighbour vrey admirable, as shal appeare in the ensuing narration throughout. Of which kind, for the present wee wil intimate two only examples of espe∣cial regard.

It chanced then, that this pittiful and merciful Woman, came to the knowledge of a poore and miserable wretch exceedingly affected with a certaine loathsome disease of lice in his head, which is called Phthiriasis, in such aboundance indeed, togeather with the head-ach, as it was no smal tor∣ment and confusion to him, and with al the meanes he made, he could ne∣uer be rid of them. when lo, the bles∣sed Elizabeth, desirous to dresse him her self, to cure the same, though

shee might haue commended the mat∣ter to some other: yet by no meanes would shee giue consent, to haue any Riuall or companion with her in that act, being so faire an occasion offered, as shee thought to ouercome her self for the loue of IESVS. And therefore for the more priuacy thereof, and not to be depriued of so great a merit; vnknowne to any, so much as to her most intimate seruant Isentrude, shee found the way to cōueigh the Wretch aside in al secrecy into her priuate Or∣chard, wherein many high trees were growing; for within doores it was not possible to be done without some notice taken: at least that shee might not be hindered in her pious endea∣uour. Where notwithstanding the auersion and loathing, shee might easely haue had thereat; shee kembed his head, and cut his hayre, al clotted with filth, and till then vnkembed for many dayes, and killed the lice, and willed him confidently to lay it in her lap, which he did for a pretty space, til shee had wel scoured and washed the

same. When her mayds, coming in by chance, and fynding their lady em∣ployed in so abiect a worke, and so vnseemely for her: admiring it, as not beleiuing at first it should be shee, roundly rebuked her for it, that shee being a lady of such degree and royal descent, would defile her fingars with so loathsome a disease, in pouling and washing the head of so miserable a creature; exaggerating withal the ar∣guments that might bee, how il it be∣came her to do, it, which they for their parts would not do, for any thing in the world: Inferring besides, that doubtles her Lord, the Lantgraue would be much offended, if he chan∣ced to come to the knowledge the∣reof.

When behold, the good Lady somw∣hat blanck thereat, to be taken so sud∣denly in the manner, beyond expecta∣tion, not so much for the shame shee had of the seruile work, as for that thé secrecy thereof was broken, which shee intended▪ and offered to the sight of God, and not to the eyes of Mor∣talls,

or human censures; but smiling, shee handsomely seemed to put off the discourse to some other matter, vpon a good occasion offered: as not willing to iustify the same too much for feare of vaine glory, or to heare them in∣veigh so bitterly, against a thing which shee held as pious, at least not worthy of so bitter reprehensions, though otherwise glad and wel satis∣fied to haue done that and a great deale more, for whose sake shee did it: ma∣king accompt, that what shee did, was meerely done for the loue of God, and not for human respects, and therefore shee ought not to regard it. And that to Loue God, it was necessa∣ry further, to put away al respects of any creature soeuer, and to purge it from all terrene and carnal ends, and to loue and regard none, but God, who is highly indeede, and aboue al to be regarded: and if shee chanced to loue or esteeme ought els, it should bee for God; in somuch indeede as shee loued not God for her self, nor her self, for her self; nor her neighbour for

himself, but rather God for God, and her self for God, and her Neighbours for the same God; since the loue of God can not brooke the company of any other loue or respect, then of God. This surely, was a worthy example of perfect Charity to her Neighbour, being so meerely done for the diuine Loue.

For shee wel considered with her self, what shee was of her self, in her first beginning. As for the Body. shee considered the same to be a vile and base thing, like other creatures: a lit∣tle blood; and a piece of flesh, skynned ouer with a parchment, as it were, somewhat finer then ordinary; yea lesse then it euen earth and clay. And for the Soule, how it was meerely as nothing: since God created it in her Mothers womb, of nothing. For the present, shee likewise considered how miserable shee was in the same body, how ful of defects, of miseryes, and infirmityes euery way: for the Soule, how poore shee was of vnderstanding and iudgment, how little shee knew,

or could reach into, how ful of igno∣rance and errours. But that, which touched her most was a true and liue∣ly consideration of what shee was like to come vnto, in respect of the Body. How shee was to be afflicted with some greeuous malady or other, that should vsher her to death, and death, deliuer her ouer to the tomb, where shee should make a feast or banquet for the wormes, and lasty be reduced into a litle earth, and brought into perpetual obliuion. And therefore, why should shee euer be proud a whit, or regard what her mayds sayd to her in that kind? For, thou earth & ashes* 1.8 (would shee say vnto her self) what shouls'd thou bee proud of?

To day a woman, tomorrow perhaps, a lump of earth? And if I should value my self, (as they say) for my gentry, linage, and nobility, whence I descend, from royal and honorable Parents: Alas, how poore a thing it is; while truly it affords mee nothing nor putts any thing into mee, being only a meere estimation of men, and nothing in

substance. Since, there is no differen∣ce a whit, that I can find among vs al, eyther in the entry into the world, or the going forth, be wee rich or poore, noble or ignoble.

This iudgment now, and esteeme, which shee framed of her self, concer∣ning her owne nature, and person, being more her owne and intrinsecal to her, then the goods of fortune, which but only accompanied her without, and attend more extrinsecal∣ly on her; it cannot be imagined how great was the contempt shee had in her hart, against al these temporal ri∣ches, which the world prize's and valu'es so much. From vhence procee∣ded the second example I promised aboue, which was this.

On a certaine Festiual day, the yong Prince was disposed to inuite the Peeres and Nobles of his land, to a solemne dinner, which being now in order, and the Guesse come, and nothing wanting that could be desired in so honorable

an assembly, but the presence of the Princesse Elizabeth her self, who by chance was then missing, being al ready to sit downe at table, and shee not there, the louing Prince would not sit downe til shee came; and the∣refore he sent the vsher in al hast for her, who went and met her com∣ming thither, and told her, how the Prince her husband, and al the stran∣gers attended her coming, nor would sit downe til shee were present. Whe∣reupon shee hastned so much the more, and was now going vp the staires vnto the dyning roome, and as shee went, shee heard a lamen∣table voyce of a poore man, with great importunity begging an almes, shee being now on the midst of the stayres, and hee on the bottome thereof; being moued with the cryes he made, shee willed him to stay a while, and promised out of hand to send him something, since for the present shee had nothing about her. But this would by no meanes satisfy him, fearing be like, he might be for∣gotten:

and therefore cryed out more earnestly then before, saying: Good Madam may it please your Highnes, not to dismisse or dispatch me so. Your highnes was not wont to put off your clyents in this sort: and if your Excel∣lence slight vs thus, who wil regard vs? Something I beseech your Highnes to bestow vpon mee, ere you passe any further and shut not vp the bo∣wells of mercy against so miserable a wretch, and this I begg for rhe Loue of IESVS whom you serue. Elizabeth, hearing the sweete name of IESVS, in his mouth, made suddenly a stop: and pausing with her self a litle, conside∣red what shee should do. Money shee had none, and to dismisse any empty away, demaunding in the name of IESVS stood not with her gentle and amourous hart to the same IESVS her heauenly Spouse. The wretch was naked▪ and shee gorgiously and richly apparelled, as became her state and dignity, especially on a festiual day. Wherfore, shee tooke off her mantle, of exceeding great value,

and without more adoe, let it fal from the stayre, cast into his armes; which he tooke and went his wayes out of the Castle most happy and glad of the charitable spoyle. And herewith, she went vpp to the dyning roome in al hast, fearing she had stayd too long; when the Vsher, who had beheld al, before she arriued into the Princes presence, had declared the whole passage already, to that honorable assembly, not without some shew of disgust and complaint for it. Which the Prince vnderstan∣ding, smiled thereat; and she en∣tering in, he arose vp from his sea∣te, to meete her as she came, saying most sweetely to her, according to his manner. Good Sister, why staid you so long; to whom she answered. Truly good Brother, I made what hast I could. The Prince sayd then: Where hast thou left thy mantle then? when she pointing with her fingar, replyed: Looke where yt hangs on the tacke there. And so it was, he looked and viewed it wel, examining

and turning it vp and downe, percei∣ued it to be the very same. And was exceedingly astonished thereat, not knowing what to thinke of it: and al were put into a strange amazement; euery one iudging and coniecturing thereof, as they were affected, some one thing and some an other: only the Prince being priuy to the ver∣tues, and sanctity of his Spouse, ma∣de the best construction of it, making very noble reflections thereon, not knowing whether to magnify more, either the operatiue faith or religious simplicity of his deare Consort, but so as he ascribed the honour of the whole matter vnto the Good∣nes of God, as a most vndoubted miracle.

CERTAINE ADMIRABLE effects of Elizabeths affection to voluntary Ponerty: and the works she wrought in that kind. CHAP. IX.

IT is incredible almost to be be∣leeued, what a holy celestial Loue, and pouerty of Spirit, this vertuous Lady had, to an entire renunciation of al wordly riches and pomps what∣soeuer: I cal it holy; because without earthly or terrene mixture; & celestial, because it transported her heart disen∣tangled from the goods of this life, to the fruition of the eternal infinite so∣ueraigne, immoueable Goodnes, and therefore heauenly: I cal it pouerty of spirit, because she dispoyled her self of al things in affect at least; which notwithstanding I terme an, entire renunciation of al wordly riches, because whensoeuer her af∣fection

seemed to harken to any such thing, she interiourly renounced it by intense acts of the wil, disclay∣ming from it, being wholy enamou∣red of the cheife and only good. This loue of hers, to voluntary po∣uerty, may wel be resembled to the Turky stone, being al azure and of a celestial coulour; or rather the stone called Lasial from whence the Painters (hauing beaten it into powder) do fetch the goodly blew or azure they vse, being a stone entermixed and diuersified sometymes with some little specks of gold, which glister within it: because indeed this Loue admits no terrestrial thing, but admirably adornes and beautifies the Soule, is alwayes mixed with specks of gold, to wit, of wisedome and diuine con∣templations of the supreame goodnes and diuine prouidence, whereto she wholy remitted her self; and whe∣reon she only relyed, which made her so pretious in the eyes of God, as we may discouer in the whole nar∣ration. And this in her was a perfect

alienation and auersion of spirit from al these temporal goods, which God had put into her hands in that state and condition she was in, for the vse of her life, and to performe many acts of charity to the poore and necessi∣teous. For God, would needs haue her hart, wholy free and acquit from al affects to terrene things; the better to giue vp her self afterwards entirely to him in ful possession, for the fuller accomplishment of the spiritual, euen in this life, and the greater encrease of her glory in the next.

Hence it was that she gaue her self wholy to works of mercy and voluntary pouerty in al kinds. And first conceiuing Idlenes to be the Mother and nurse of al euils, and a marueylous hinderance to al Chri∣stian piety, whereto she wholy in∣tended to addict her self, for the loue of her heauenly Spouse, she had an especial care to bestow al the tyme she had spare from spiritual exercizes, and other necessary employments about her owne person; in workmanshipps

and labours of the hand or body. Nor yet did she as the Ladyes of her ranck are wont to do: who wil not set their fingers to any thing, coarser then the finest silkes: but delighted rather amongst her mayds to handle the coar∣sest wooles, somtymes in spinning, somtymes carding, somtymes in win∣ding on the reele what others had spun, and then sending or carrynig her bottomes of yarne to be wouen and made into the coarser cloth, which ordinarily she distributed to the poore, and especially to the Fryars of Sainct Frauncis his Order, to whom she was much deuoted; amd in whom she no∣ted a most strickt obseruance of the vow of Pouerty, whereto she was sin∣gularly enclined.

Out of the great affection she had to this voluntary Pouerty, she would mend the habits of the poore with her owne hands, setting patch vpon patch, with a religious enuy or emulation that she might not weare such clo∣thing her self. She trampled vnder foote, in the interiour of her hart, al

those worldly things, which Seculars esteeme so much; and whereof, these mad louers of the world make such accompt, there being nothing more idle, friuolous, and vayne. She would her self for the Loue of Christ experien∣ce now and then the effects of Pouer∣ty, and for the commodityes which she was forced to take by reason of her state and condition, she vsed them as she vsed them not, to serue and Loue God the better, and with more freedome; and through excessiue Loue to fly into the armes of her cru∣cifyed IESVS, her onely good, her ioy, her loue, her desire. And lastly her whole felicity was, to suffer incommo∣dityes, not only thus voluntarily, as it were in iest, by framing of occasiōs for the purpose, but euen really: wishing indeed, to want the necessityes of a comon life, for the same Crucifyeds sake, who in the article of death, was by his enemyes denyed a drop of cold water to quench his thirst.

She sought out Gentils, whereof there wanted not store, at that tyme

in those parts, who being already con∣uinced of their infidelity some one way & some another, made suite to receiue our holy Faith. These, she instructed, as occasion serued, in the Christian Doctrine, & while they remayned Ca∣thecumens, she releiued them with meate & drinke, & what other neces∣sityes they stood in neede of, vntil such tyme as they were baptized and many tymes be their Godmother her self at the font. She was not content to commaund such things to be done, which yet had beene a most pious worke, or to see it done, which had truly been more; but was no wayes satisfyed if she had not beene an Actor in the things themselues: so saithful a Steward she was, of the di∣uine dispensations in the seruice of Christ in his impotent members.

It is a wonderful thing, with what courtesy and humility, she visited, comforted and releiued the poore sort of women with child, especially when she heard of their trauayle in child∣birth, or that they were newly deli∣uered:

for then, she would come to them at al howers of the night or day, bringing such things along with her, as she thought most necessary for them; neyther yet could the length or tediousnes of the wayes, either craggy or durty, or of the weather, either rayne, wind, hayle, or snow, or the noysomnes or il sauours of such hou∣ses, so much as hinder her awhit, from going to them, to performe that cor∣poral worke of Mercy, which with∣out some labour of the body, she imagined to be of litle worth. And would rather want her owne com∣modityes, yea misse euen things about her that seemed necessary, then the poore should want any thing which she could remedy. She was doubtles a rare patterne of Charity, the iewel of that age, a Margarite for purity and simplicity; a Ruby or Carbuncle for enflamed Charity to God and diuine Loue, and especially for her singular affect to Pouerty and the poore, a Sa∣phire right; and therefore when she left al besides, to put her in mynd of

that vertue aboue the rest; she kept and ware that stone.

The Saphyre is a stone of a pleasing colour to behold, and the soule of this Lady, was most pleasing to God, as wee may wel coniecture; how beyt with her self she were euer displeased. And for as much as, the Saphyre, is a solid stone, and not transparant, this soule being inuested with the loue of humility, was allwayes solidiy foun∣ded vpon her nothing, being one in∣deed that could not bee prolated or pierced by the light, or rayes of any vanity soeuer. The Saphire is vnapt for sculpture, they cannot engraue any thing vpon yt; and this soule so humble, could receiue no strange im∣pression contrary to that, which shee once considerately thought or resol∣ued vpon, or to that which shee saw and verily beleiued of her self: no opi∣nion or vaine estimation of her self, no vaunting word, or the like could be euer heard to come from her, though men and Angels had endea∣uoured to perswade her to think wel

her self. That which makes the Sa∣phire more pleasing is, certaine litle marks or sprinckles of gold here and there, wherewith it shines, and spar∣cles as it were: so the shafts of loue & wisedome, which this soule would dart and send forth to God; and her amiable humiliations, or modest and sweet fashions of fraternal charity wherewith shee conuersed with al, made her most gracious and accepta∣ble to God and men. This iewel expells al venemous things, and mortifyes the Spider, as S. Bonauenture saith: So her humility easily expelled al sinnes, and especially vaine glory, whose works are as vnprofitable as the Spi∣ders web.

So great and ardent a desire Eli∣zabeth had of this vertue of humi∣lity, and especially so enflamed an affect to pouerty; as al her pra∣ctizes almost were nothing els but experiments and proofes of that vertue; so as laying aside her prin∣cely robes, shee would make her mayds to dresse her vp, in a gowne of

course cloth, and put on some playne kercheife or some such thing about her head, and being so apparelled skee would go soberly vp and downe in good earnest, with her eyes and countenance cast downe to the earth, and not disguizing her self out of le∣uity in that manner, as some wil do, but truly and seriously indeed, as desi∣rous in her heart to continue so stil; Sayng to her Mayds I shal one day my self walke in that manner, in the streetes in good earnest; when I shal be found worthy to suffer iniu∣ryes and reproaches for my Gods sake. Wherin, as it afterwards pro∣ued shee shewed shee had the spirit of Prophecy, to foresee what should happen to her in tyme to come, which so fel out indeed. Good God, how gallant shee mi•…•…ht haue been in appa∣rel, if shee would her self, what attendances and obsequiousnes, might shee haue had in such a court of Lords and Ladyes. Shee might ha∣ue glittered al in gold, haue spar∣ckled with Diamonds, been reueling

and masking al day and night, among the rest of the Ladyes. Nay what plea∣sures are there which courts can af∣ford, or delights, that liberty and li∣cence can yeild, which shee might not easely haue enioyed, had shee been so pleased; and yet abandoning al for the loue of Christ, shee embraced this af∣fect of Pouerty aboue al, and euen courted the same as a deare freind of hers, and would often proue effects thereof in no smal matters. So as no mortal man was euer so drowned in the pleasures of the world, or more doted thereon, then shee was enamou∣red and wholy inebriated therewith, which surely was most grateful and acceptable to God, as may appeare by that which followes.

Newes was brought, that certayne Noblemen of the kingdome of Hun∣gary, were coming to see the Court, being thither sent by the King, th•…•… father of Elizabeth, vpon some weighty affayres and negociations of great im∣portance for both the States, and that now they were neere at hand. Which

tydings, when the Prince had heard, he went immediately to his Eli∣zabeth, & said vnto her, not without some anxiety and perplexity of mynd. Haue you heard Sister the newes? And what newes, I pray deare Bro∣ther, replyed shee then, with a chear∣ful countenance? Behold Embassa∣dours, are neere at hand from our royal Father of Hungary. If that, be al, deare Brother, (said shee) they are hartily welcome. Why then, replyed he an•…•…n, and is that al thinke you, and know you not, how il you are fur∣nished with apparel and decent orna∣ments, befitting your state and calling to receiue and encertaine them with, and to yeild them satisfaction, as I de∣sire, for my honours sake? and which is worse, there is now no tyme to fur∣nish you better.

Alas▪ good Brother, replyed shee then, there is no cause why this my attire should so trouble you. Since you know wel enough, how litle I haue alwayes regarded such things. For my part, I haue but litle desire to please men, and to be

gracious in their sight, with the ha∣zard of loosing the grace and fauour of my heauenly Spouse. But what, trow you, wil they signify to your royal Fa∣ther at their returne: Good Brother, said shee, dispose you of the rest for their better entertaynement, and take you no care for mee, I trust our Lord wil prouide for both our ho∣nours.

And not long after the Em∣bassadours came to the Court, and were very Princely and honorably enterteyned by the Lantgraue, and the Nobles. When after they had de∣liuered the letters of credence, and the effect of their Embassage with a gratious audience on the part of the Lantgraue. The Princesse Elizabeth her self was sent for, to come into the presence at the earnest suite of the Embassadours themsel∣ues, who had an earnest desire to behold her now a woman growne, whom long since they had seene to be a hopeful Infant, and whom fame had spread to be a Paragon of the world, both for beauty, personage, and

much more for her singular vertues and eminent sanctity of life. When behold, shee came in, like a He•…•…ter be∣fore Assuerus? for loe, the Author of al beauty and exteriour grace no lesse then interiour; had so adorned her with comelynes, and especial outward graces withal, besides the inward of the soule and mynd, as shee seemed to be an Angel apparelled in flesh, and adorned with purple beset with the richest stones; to the great astonishmēt of al the beholders, and especially the Prince himself, who was priuy to her great defects of such ornamēts, iewels, & attires, hee hauing before distribu∣ted them to the poore, & had no tyme to be furnished anew, When secretly demaunding of her, how it came to passe, Elizabeth made answere smiling. My Lord and Master can when he list, prepare such ornaments for mee. Nor was the same obserued by the P•…•…ince himself only, but diuerse others; espe∣cially by her Mayds about her, who now regarded her as a great Saint, and fauorite of God.

THE DEVOVT AND pious exercises of Elizabeth, at the Sacrifice of the Masse. CHAP. X.

OVR Sauiour Christ, as wee read in the Ghospel, one day found a great noyse and tumult in the Gallery of the Temple, by such as bartered therein, and bought and sold; and therefore being enflamed with the* 1.9 zeale of Gods honour, with certaine cords and whipps which he tooke vp from the ground, as one in choller, draue them forth of the Temple: and as S. Mark saith, ouerthrew al their ware. But now, alas, were hee to co∣me into our Temples, what abuses doubtles might he there find to refor∣me amongst vs, what noyses, what gigling, what chatting, wha•…•… conuer∣sations, and perhaps lasciuious glaun∣ces?

But this lady Elizabeth here of the

contrary, was exceeding deuout, as wel at her entrance into the howse of God; as during the whole tyme shee was there present: Knowing wel, that one of the greatest deuotions a Chri∣stian could vse, was to heare Masse euery day, or as often as he could. First, because the excellence and di∣gnity of the Masse is infinite, as being a Sacrifice wherein Christ is offered to God; who offered vp himself once on the Crosse, with all his tra∣uells and merits; and is the most perfect act of Religion, wherein wee giue God the greatest honor wee can giue him: and secondly, is the most excellent act of prayer wee can possibly make. Wherfore from her infancy and tender age, til her dying day, shee was wont alwayes to be present at this venerable and dread∣ful Sacrifice; and very often was the∣re her self before any other; when shee would keep her mind as free from distractions, as shee could; and if shee ware any ornament, which with conuenient decency might wel

bee spared, shee would either put it off quite, or handsomely conceale it, some way or other, vntil the Offices and Ceremonyes of so admirable a Sacrifice were ended. But especially, shee vsed a singuler reuerence, as wel while the Ghospel was reading, as the body of our Lord IESVS Christ was handling; applying no doubt her whole attention thereto, and preparing the mouth of her Soule for the worthy receiuing thereof.

Her manner of hearing Masse was comonly in this sort. Most deuoutly on her knees, with great silence, and deepe and profound reuerence, and attention, without speaking with any or turning her head on the one side or other, but fixing her eyes on the Altar, and Preist (who repre∣sents Christ) & obseruing the actiōs he vsed: for al is a liuely representation of that, which the Redeemer of life, did, & suffered in his most holy life & pas∣sion. When the Preist at the beginning, said the General Confession; shee silently said it with the Minister also, being

contrite for her sinnes, and crauing pardon for the same. After which, shee attended to the wordes of the Priest, because they are sacred, it is fi•…•… to hea∣re them, though they be not vnder∣stood.

The Ghospel and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 being ended, shee sayed inwardly in herself, making liuely acts of faith.

I confesse to thee Lord, al these verityes, & whatsoeuer are contayned in the Creed, and the whole diuine Scripture. And through thy diuine fauour am ready to yeild my life for them. Do thou my God giue mee grace, that with my life, and holy works, I may confesse, teach, & preach them to al, vnto thy glory.

At the Offertory, shee made an o∣blation of her self, and deuoutly pre∣sented her self and her occasions and affayres to God, that with the purest and most holy offering of his most blessed Sonne, they might fairely as∣cend into his diuine presence in an odour of sweetenes.

At the Sāctus, she would conuert her self to the most holy Trinity, the Father,

the Sonne, and the Holy Ghost, true God, in the company of al the Angells, and of al the Blessed Spirits, wishing that al creatures, and al men whosoeuer, would know, prayse, & serue the same; and shee especially aboue the rest, might loue and honour it, with al her forces, and al the powers of her soule.

While the Preist was reciting the Secrets, and Cannon of the Masse, she meditated vpon some point of the Passion of our Sauiour Christ, with an admirable feruour as her deuotion serued, and if not, shee recited some vocal prayers.

At the Memento, shee would call her proper necessityes to mynd, and those of others, and propose them sweetly to her Lord with enflamed affects.

At the Eleuation of the sacred Hoast, shee would most deuoutly and reue∣rently adore the most sacred body of our Lord IESVS Christ, which for her and al the world, was exalted and extended on the tree of the Crosse.

At the Eleuation of the Chalice, shee would likewise adore with vn∣speakable inward affects and aspira∣tions, the most precious Blood of her Redeemer, which was shed for her and all the world; beseeching her Sauiour through the same to make her per∣taker of the fruits of the Tree of Life which hee was himself: And since he dyed for her sinnes; she might dye to them; and liue to him; and that her hart might bee the rock, whe∣reon his Crosse might fix it self, and be the Vessel whereinto his most pre∣tious blood, might be receiued, a li∣quor of infinite valew and price, and therewith bee washed and cleansed from al her sinneful spotts.

At the Second Memento, she called to mynd very seriously the Soules of the faithful deceased, and prayed for those, whom shee thought best of, and were dearest to her, most hartily crauing, to make them pertakers of that dreadful Sacrifice, and speedily to enter into the ioyes of Paradice, where they might liue, and raigne

with him for euer.

At the Agnus Dei, shee demaun∣ded an ample pardon and remission of her sinnes, imploring his fauour and graces that shee might receiue him, if not sacramentally, at least spi∣ritually, and that by meanes of the di∣uine Sacrament, so receiued, shee might be vnited with his infinite goodnes.

And thus shee vsed to communi∣cate at least spiritually euery day, which surely was a singular benefit for her spiritual profit, and which aduanced her to so eminent a degree of sanctity.

She was wont to burne with a vehement affection to the blessed Sa∣crament, admiring much, how so admirable a Sacrament, should bee af∣forded & bestowed vpon mortal crea∣tures, and deepely considering & pon∣dering the omnipotence and infinite wisedome of God, in preparing such remedy against the rancour and poy∣son of sinne, and his infinite bounty in the free and liberal distribution

thereof. And when shee communica∣ted sacramentally shee was often heard to break forth into these aspi∣rations.

Burne then ô fire, and consu∣me whatsoeuer thou seest vnworthy in mee o•…•… thy presence & which may, put any obstacle to thy grace. O Bread of Angells, nourish my soule, and may it loose al tast of whatsoeuer is displeasing to thee Most sweete IESVS. O say that same to mee, which thou saidst to Zacheus hereto∣fore, to wit▪ Saluation is fullfilled in thy hewse▪ God of my hart, let mee bee wholy thine▪ and let none but thou, haue possession of my soule. After which, for a quarter of an hower shee seemed to enioy the presence of the Sacred Hoast within her; and then to breake forth againe into these acts of admiration. Who am I and who art thou my God, that I should be so visited by thee! O eternal God, what is man, whom so vnworthy thou settest thy hart vpon! Nay what is the Sonne of man, since thou lodgest

they flesh, thy blood, thy soule, thy Diuinity, within him, as in a most de∣licious bower.

She further admired, how the Lord of Maiesty, and King of glory, not contenting himself, to become man, for the health and sal∣uation of men, but that hee would needes abase and humble himself so low, as to remayne with vs, in this Sacrament, and to leaue vs on earth such a visible throne as it were of his mercy: more excellent without com∣parison, then the Arke of Alliance, to haue our recourse thereto, in all our necessityes.

In these cogitations, the dignity of mans nature, especially of the soule, would glide into her mynd, for that God so created it meerely and wholy for himself. The heauens, he afforded to the Angels, the ayre to the birds, the Sea to the fishes, and the earth to plants; and Man to whom but to him∣self? Man therefore was created for God only: O then, may he be (shee would say) entirely possest by God alone. Shee would further imagine,

how the Angels were of a nature more noble, and sublime then Man, yet God hath so much valued this his creature, as hee hath in a sort subiected these noble spirits to his seruice; according to the Prophett: Hee hath commaun∣ded* 1.10 the Angels to gard man in all his wayes: and to foresee and preuent the occasions of his fales. And how not contented herewith, hee made such reckoning of him, as that notwith∣standing his vtter ruine, he redeemed him, with the precious redemption of his owne blood, and after nourished him being redeemed, with the hol∣some foode of his owne flesh, affor∣ding his reall presence and assistance thereto. Then shee would inwardly grieue at the ingratitude of men, for all these graces and fauours, so vainely bestowed on millions of them, most highly extolling the goodnes of God for all.

Now this, so vehement feruour of hers being such, through these and a thousand such ardent meditations, pious exercises, and occupations of

the mynd, amidst her holy Commu∣nions, which shee often frequented▪ it could not easily be concealed, but that some enflamed affects of so great a fyre and ardour within; must needes breake forth at last. For so it happe∣ned on a tyme, while shee was in these serious and deepe contempla∣tions, immediatly after the Conse∣cration of the blessed Host; that shee was enuironed with a great light, which gaue forth such a flash and splendour, as a certaine Priest thereby, who for his vertuous life deserued the sight, could not (as after he confessed) behold her face, such a beame of glory, proceeded from thence. When returning into her self againe, and casting the eyes of her body and soule vpon the Crucifix on the Altar hanging most piteously wounded on the Crosse, and all empurpled with his most sacred and precious blood, shee said vnto him by way of Apostrophe

Tell mee I prethee, how much is this blood

of thine worth. Tenne thousand wor∣lds here beneath (shee replyed her self) and as many of those aboue, by a thousand degrees, cannot once ap∣proach to the worth & value thereof. And yet hath the same been giuen, & afforded mee. O wretch as I am to ser∣ue for my redemption. Then doe thou value thy worth, ô soule of mine, and make an entire resolutiō from hence∣forth to serue him better, then hither∣to thou hast done, who hath so much honoured and cherished thee. O my Lord Iesus thy loue hath caused thee to suffer as much for mee alone, as for all the men and women created. Then giue mee grace frō this tyme forwards in consideration of this my true nobi∣lity to acknowledge in some manner this infinite loue of thine. And since I beare the image of thy Diuinity so stampt as it were and printed in mee, since I am so created for thee only, let mee wholely and entirely be thine only.

Thus would this Saintly Woman apostrophize, and Dialogue some∣tymes

vpon euerie occasion, either se∣cretly within her self when shee was in the presence with others, in Church or Chappell, or els with the voyce, as shee found opportunity.

OF THE GREAT CHARITY of Elizabeth, to her neighbour, and her exceeding liberality to the poore. CHAP. XI.

AS to arriue at the Port with a Galley, it is not enough to haue eyes to consider the card and compasse, and to gaze on the North Pole, to haue a Tongue, to discourse of the winds, a Sea Mapp, to contemplate the regions and degrees therein, if they haue not besides a paire of hands and armes to rowe with the oares. So to arriue at the hauen of Glory, it is not enough to speculate with the eyes of faith on the diuine mysteries, to reason and discourse well and suttly of them; nor to pray much, an argument of

their hope, and confidence in God, vnited with a good faith in him, if they put not their hands besides to Workes, in testimony of this faith and hope. Belieue it, wings are not more necessary for a fowle to fly with, and to soare vp into the ayre, then good workes, especially Almes to the poore, are simply necessary to such as would attayne vnto heauen. Hence it was, that Elizabeth so ad∣dicted her self to workes of piety, de∣uotion, and all Christian exercises, as shee did. For shee alwayes, and espe∣cially in the Lent, obserued most re∣ligiously the precepts of the holy Church, and Christian traditions, & obseruances, by giuing her self not only to fasting and prayer, as wee said before, but euen also to shew much charity to her Neighbour, in assi∣sting the distressed, and relieuing the poore with plentyfull almes, and in chastizing her weake body, with frequent Cilices, Disciplines, and watching. Shee obserued with great deuotion the Solemnityes of the

Holy Weeke, wherein the mysteries of our Redemption are represented to vs: and celebrated the same with such feruour of mynd, as cleerely shewed her intense loue to her Sa∣uiour, who so highly praysed to the Pharisey, the good and pious works of his seruant Magdalen, as hee forgot not to recount the least of them, and recite them with all the speciall circumstances they had: shewing how gratefull and pleasing to him were all those litle offices of piety, which shee did about his per∣treame loue towards him▪ For that kissing of his feete, that bathing with her teares, that warming them with her ardent sighs, those an∣noyntings with pretious vnguents, yea the drying and wiping them with the tresses of her hayre, though so slender an office it was, yet of sin∣gular weight with the pious and con∣siderate IESVS.

In the Holy Weeke againe, especially on Maunday Thursday, which day

is solemnized, in remembrance of Christs last Supper, laying aside all costly apparrell, attired as one of the vulgar sort, shee was wont to walke the Stations in the afternoone, and to visit the Churches in that humble manner, so as one that knew her not wel, might haue easely mistaken her for one of the meaner sort; when sen∣ding for twelue of the Poore, shee disdayned not to kneele downe before them, and to wash, wipe, and kisse their feete, and finally to giue them twelue pence a peece in money toge∣ther 〈…〉〈…〉 loafe. Vpon which day, on a tyme▪ shee entertayned in that sort, no small number of leaprous persons, for of such onely shee made choyce, whose hands & feete, when she had washed, she disdained not to kisse the swellings of their loathsome soares, & after that tyme, she neuer shunned such manner of people, but walked & freely talked with them, and familiarly sat downe by them, as if they had beene whole and sound, and exhorting them to

Patience, shee would giue them a liberall almes. The night before Good Friday, shee spent in prayer, and in deepe meditation of our Lords passion, and charged her Mayds in any case, to haue an especiall care, not to shew any reuerence to her on that day, but would needes goe the Stations bare∣foote. And at euery Sepulchre and Altar, lay downe a bundle of flax, and sett vp a burning taper, and put a quantity of Incense, or other such like perfumes into a Thurible; that the Churches might be full of odori∣ferous and fragrant sauours where∣soeuer shee came; and so taking the smallest moneys shee could get toge∣ther, and passing in company with the meanest sort, shee went vp and downe the streetes barefoote, dealing them very bounty fully to al the poore.

Some there were, who esteemed this manner of distribution of small moneys, to be nothing sutable to her state and calling, and to proceede of Coueteousnes, and of not of Princely and heroicall disposition, saying, that

shee being a Kings daughter, should vse the bounty and liberallity of a Princesse; and for her to abase her self so, as one of the multitude and vulgar sort was most vnworthy, and no ar∣gument at all, of her sanctity or deuo∣tion, but rather of a base and degene∣rate mynd. But the glorious Princesse, made litle accompt of all those whispe∣rings, and regarded not what the maleuolous sayed, and thought it bet∣ter to relieue many, with many litles, then to giue much to a few. And there∣fore ceased not, to perseuer dayly in that which shee had so seriously deter∣mined to do, assuredly presuming that God who is aboue, and sees all things, knew her hart, to be as farre from any couetous humour, in so doing, as tho∣se rash and sharp censurers, were alie∣nate from truth and equity.

On the dayes of publique Litanyes in the streetes, the Lady Elizabeth, cloathed her self in course cloth, and so went along in Processions, & to heare the Sermons in the Church, would thrust her self among the meaner sort,

and take vp her place amidst them, as holding the Seed of heauē for the most part, to spring and grow vp more wil∣lingly and aboundantly, in the soyle of an humble hart.

It happened now, in the yeare of our Lord 1225. the Prince taking his iour∣ney vnto Apulia, to waite on the Em∣perour, that through all the Prouin∣ces of Germany, was a generall fami∣ne, and many perished for want of foode. Wherevpon Elizabeth, taking occasion by the Princes absence to exercize the works of piety, with more liberty then euer, began with a bountyfull hand to distribute to the poore, the corne which had byn gathe∣red and stored vp in al her Dominions, allowing to a great number of them a daylie portion of corne, for their maintenance, according to the age and condition they were of, and the extreame necessity they were in. Nor did any of them want (through the especiall grace and prouidence of God) though happily they recei∣ued lesse then a measure conuenient

to susteyne them with▪ And forasmuch as shee vnderstood there were many sick and infirme persons, who by rea∣son of their maladies or other impedi∣ments, were not able to ascend vnto the Castle and Pallace which was si∣tuated on the top of a steepy hill; shee caused presently an Hospitall of an ex∣ceeding beauty and capacity to bee erected in the bottome of the said Hill, vnder the castle, and therein placed especially such of the poore, as were most maymed in their lymmes, & the weakest and feeblest of them, whom shee in person her self once a day, and somtimes more, would goe to visit, though hindred not a litle by the diffi∣cult descent of that craggy mountai∣ne: and then shee would demaund of each one, how they did, and what they ayled most, or what kind of mea∣te liked them best, which when shee vnderstood, shee gaue to euery one ac∣cordingly of the prouision shee had brought along with her for that in∣tent, with so much loue and tendernes towards them as you would rather

haue thought her a Mother among so many Childrē, then so great a Lady to waite on the poore, & with her owne hands to feed the feeble and weake, & to lift them vp in their Beds, who were otherwise not able to stir themselues, yea to carry them in her armes, and make their beds, and performe other seruile offices about them, which her Mayds could by no meanes endure.

Among which, so dispicable creatu∣res, shee principally applyed her self, to poore Orphans and little Children left destitute & voyd of freind, whom with a motherly care, shee would •…•…end her self, or cause to be brought vp, so as al of them flockt about her, calling her Mother, as wel as they might, shee being no lesse indeed, them a common Parent to them: shewing her self besi∣des, most tender & indulgent to choo∣se Children particularly as were either naturally illfauoured by reasō of some deformity or other, or weake through sicknes or infirmity, or loathsome and fastidious, by reason of soares and V•…•…cers, not disdayning to touch

them with her holy hands as occasion serued, and euen to dandle them in her lapp, whom her Mayds for hor∣rour onely, could not patiently abi∣de to looke on; such was her Cha∣rity and fortitude of mynd, as with the one, shee would attempt any thing, and goe through stitch with the other, in whatsoeuer shee once tooke in hand.

She made choyce of certaine of the poore from the rest of the multitude, that resorted to her, whom shee espe∣cially commanded, at a tyme appoin∣ted to attend at the Castle Gate, to whom with her owne hands shee di∣stributed the scrapps and fragments which were left at her table, vsing now & then some prety slights to spare thē not only from her owne trencher, but euen likewise, when handsomely shee could, from those of others, whō shee knew wel could help thēselues other∣wise, to the end the poore who wayted vpon her, might not depart empty away, but find sufficient refection, whensoeuer they came: and this (as I

sayd) shee distributed with her owne hands. Which though to some might seeme vndecent and extrauagant, that so great a personnage should descend so low, saying the office might better haue beene recommended to others: yet I presume if they consider the Gifts of the holy Ghost, & the fire of Cha∣rity, that burned within her, they would leaue to wonder or spare to censure her; but rather reuerence and admire her for it, and finally en∣deauour to imitate her rare example.

This her singular Charity by some outward signes of Gods especiall fa∣uours towards her, seemed to be not a litle approued by him, which how litle soeuer they appeared to be, yet proceeding from him, are not to be accompted litle.

Vpon a tyme, Elizabeth bringing downe from the Castle certaine pre∣sents of toyes made of earth and glasse, for the vse of Children, and being set on horsbacke, with her lapfull of such things, to deale amongst the litle Innocents as occasion serued; her

apron by chance being loosse, althose litle toyes fell to ground, which neuer left tumbling downe, til they came to the bottome on a rocky, and stony way, which being taken vpp and brought to her, were found to bee as whole and entire as euer.

Shee tooke great pleasure som∣tymes, to haue the poore fed within the Gates of her Pallace, and which is more, somwhat neere to her owne table, to whom now and then, shee reached meate with her owne hands, of the dishes which shee her self was serued with, and manie tymes caused them to be left alone by themselues, that they might eate, drinke, and chat togeather the more freely, as wishing them, together with the sa∣tiety of the belly, to haue some good relaxation of the mynd, that so God might be honoured either wayes. Whereby it happened once, that they hauing drunke a good quantity of drinke amongst them, the Vessell was yet found to remayne litle lesse repleate then at first, in testimony

no doubt, how gratefull this kind of Hospitallity was to the diuine Maiesty.

Shee tooke order in the Hospitall, for 28. poore people, to be careful∣ly prouided of all things necessary, and that when any of them dyed, an other should be put into the place. Such as daylie in her sight receiued almes otherwise, according to the quality or necessity of each one, were nine hundred persons at least. And for the rest, whom shee other∣wise liberally susteyned by the mea∣nes 〈…〉〈…〉, and Officers, they could not be told. Wherein shee wasted, spent, and consumed the reuenues of a most opu∣lent Signory, and oftentymes sold the clothes and ornaments from her back, and her iewells, and the hangings and furniture of her howse; that the members of Christ might not perish for hunger. In which holy exercise shee serued God with so good a will, as that a certaine sick body, one day begging a litle

milke at her hands, shee tooke vp a payle her selfe, (being so great a Lady and Princesse) and went to milke with her delicate fingars, vnacquain∣ted therewith, so much milke as sa∣tisfyed the party.

In this manner, Elizabeth sustey∣ned the poore, vntill Haruest tyme, when shee dismissed them who were able to worke, prouiding them with sickles and instruments for the pur∣pose, and with hose and shooes to their feete, and to the rest being wea∣ker, shee gaue apparell and moneys 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 most. To 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Women, shee affoarded Kercheifs and Veyles for the head, whereof some were of silke, which she willed them to sell to supply their greater necessityes, and not to weare them themselues, willing such as were able to labour, to earne their lyuing, wishing the rest to doe somewhat at least towards it. One of which ha∣uing, vnlook't for, receiued a Gift of that kind, cryed out for ioy, shee was the happyest Woman aliue, and

being opprest with the suddennes thereof, fell downe in a sowne, which Elizabeth seeing, supposing her dead, was troubled thereat; fea∣ring in deed, least shee might be culpable of her death, in bestowing a bigger Almes vpon her then was meete.

When any of the poore dyed, shee was not content to afford them winding sheetes of her owne spin∣ning, but shee her self would sock them and lay them forth, without any manner of horrour at all, and graced and honoured them further with her presence to their graues, euen to the end of their Exequyes, and funerall Rites, and pay the dutyes of all. And was euen so forward in this act of Charity, as shee spent a large webb of new lynnen meerely in such vses: and much it was against her owne inclination (if shee could haue helped it) that the wealthy people, who had alwayes their ease and pleasures in the world, should goe forth of the same with new Syndons; & not the poore▪

who in the world had been serued with raggs: Soe highly shee esteemed the poore.

OF A COMPLAINT MADE against Elizabeth, to her husband: With some examples of his Noble disposition therein. CHAP. XII.

IT cannot be denyed, but the state of Matrimony is a yoke, how∣soeuer in some a most sweete yoke, though it please the Apostle to terme it a weighty one, while hee saith, that. Such as marry do take vpon them a trou∣blesome* 1.11 burden of the flesh. And to say truth, if the Marryed vnite them∣selues to carry the said burden equally betweene them, it is a light and pleasant yoke, otherwise the same is a most intollerable clogg. To this pur∣pose,* 1.12 the Wiseman saith very well:

That three things are very pleasing to God and men: Concord among Brothers, Loue of the Neighbours, and a Vnion and Conformity betweene Man and Wife. This same are the Marryed to en∣deauour to haue by all meanes possi∣ble, without which, the marryed life were no better then that of Slaues in a Galley, whereas with vnion and Peace, it is no lesse then a Life of Angels.

This vnion and Concord in this state, the happy couple of Princes kept inuiolable betweene them, and this was that, which the Enemy of all peace enuyed in them, and labou∣red what possibly he could, by his Ministers and malignant persons, to enfringe through malicious suggestiōs framed against the innocent Spouse, traducing her vnto her husband at his returne from Apulia, as a pro∣dig all in his absence; and a most immeasurable waster of his estate, so much exaggerating the Complaint against her, as they blushed not to auerr, shee had left them nothing

to feed on, hauing vnnecessarily con∣sumed all the rents in Almes and libe∣ralityes they knew not what, which they impiously blasphemed with the title of prodigalityes. But what ans∣weare made the Lantgraue thinke you, to those bitter complaints against her? Like a noble and worthy Prince, set∣ting light by all those shrewd accusa∣tions:

Let my Sister alone (saied hee) and spend a Gods name, as shee hath hitherto done, so shee leaue mee my Castles and Mannors free. For I assu∣re my self wee shall not want, so long as wee suffer her to relieue and fauour the necessiteous people as she doth.

A worthy answeare surely of such a One, in whose hart the loue and honour of his Wife was more engrauen, then of all the ample demeanes he had, though neuer so great; being more willing to haue them so dispenced and disperced with her liberall hand: then that so soueraigne a vertue as Charity, should not be exercized; which to the lyuing augments and heaps vp riches, euen in the present

world, and forsakes not the dead vnto the next. So as well may that same of Ecclesiastes be said of him. Blessed is the Man, that hath a good Wife. And againe: A good Wife, is a good portion for such as feare God: shee shall bee giuen to a Man for his good works.

And surely, this Prince was a very good man, as shall appeare by some things I shall here but touch briefly, and shew how worthy hee was of such a Wife, and of the for∣mer Elogies I affoarded him, decla∣ring especially among other things, how eminent and singular the Vertue of Chastity was in him, and how remarkable was his loyaltie to his Wife, and fidelity to the Mariage bed.

Where by the way, is to be no∣ted, the vnhappy condition of the Princely and royall state, in that of all others, they haue not only inuisible and spiritual enemyes, continually as∣sayling the Citadel of their harts, in∣fernall spirits I meane, which labour

nothing more, then to surprize them, and lead them into sinne, as also Do∣mesticall at home, to witt, the flat∣teryes and allurements of the flesh, but euen the enchauntments of the world, to charme their eares, and the others senses, thereby to cast them on the rocks and shelues of perdition, and wracke of honour.

For, on a tyme, there happe∣ned in Court certaine Reuels and Masks of Ladyes, where the Prin∣ce alone, without Elizabeth, was spectatour from a Gallery window; and was noted seriously to obserue a beautyfull Lady amongst them, more attentiuely then ordinary: A cer∣taine Courteour who sate the neerest to him perceiuing his attention, and measuring the Princes inward thoughts by the Ell of his owne in∣clination and corrupt iudgment, said to him whispering in his eare.

Noble Prince, if it please your Ex∣cellence, to enioy the happy embra∣ces of that Lady there, I make no doubt but to put your Highnes into

ful possession of her.

He saied no more; but therein had saied enough, to stirr the coales of the Princely indignation against him: For, casting a sterne looke vpon this Minister of Sathan, with sparkling eyes, immediately he bad him hold his peace, and speake no more in that kind, nor once suggest such lewdnes and dishonesties to his chast hart. Thou deceiued'st thy self (said he) if thou thoughtest I heeded or regarded that Lady thou meanest; for I tel thee I had nobler obi•…•…cts in mynd, when mine eyes seemed to wander as they did. From the creature, I could tel how to mount to my Crea∣tor, while thou endeauourest by the same, to cast mee downe into the cen∣ter of impietyes, & to auert me wholy from the Creator: Noe more then of that tenour, I say, vnles you haue a mynd to proue and incurr my iust dis∣pleasure. Whereat the carnal spirit va∣nished thence & sluncke away: Might al such Pandars bee so wel checked, then should wee not haue such debau∣chments and dissolutions in Court.

An other tyme, the Prince being come into the howse of a certaine Count, a special freind & kinsman of his, vpon a visit for his owne recrea∣tion; & after a magnificent & Courtly enterteynement: the Supper ended, & the tyme of rest being come, when he was now left to himself, retired from the cōpany, & euerie one was brought ceremoniously to their Lodgings, the vertuous Prince was no soouer lying in his bed, & recōmended his soule to the custody and tuiton of his Angel & peculiar Patrons, and falne asleepe; but a lewd & impudent woman, incensed and raging with the fire of Lust, or els perhaps for golden ends; found the meanes to steale into his Chamber, vn∣perceiued of any, where priuily dis∣poyling her self of her Clothes, got in∣to his bed and layd her self by him. Which the good Prince perceiuing at last, through the rusling of her silkes, or awaked by his good Angel, started out of bed, & calling for his faithful Coun∣cellour and Secretary Gualter, and the Gentlemen of his priuy Chamber,

lay neere vnto him, caused them to ari∣se, and remoue her thence, and to dis∣patch her away with some money; sup∣posing belike the coueteousnes thereof had brought her into so strange and exorbitant a practize: afterwards spea∣king of the matter, he protested before God, that howbeit he had no auersiō or detestation from the sinne of Adultery at al, as offensiue to God, yet for the respect he bare to Elizabeth his wife, he would by no meanes haue giuen way to so notable an iniury to his deerest Spouse, whom he honoured so much.

Behold an other of the like kind. A certaine principal Captayne and Com∣mander of his, on a tyme, hauing oc∣casion vpon publique affayres to treate with the Lantgraue, the busynes dis∣patched, fel by chaunce into discourse of his owne particulars, complayning how vnfortunate hee was, that whereas God, had blessed him with a competent estate, & a beautyful wife, he should bee so vnhappy through ste∣rility, to leaue no heyres behind him, to enherit his substance and the

honours he had purchased in the feild: and therefore if it pleased his Highnes hee might vse his wife, to raise him seede to his howse, and hee would willingly embrace them as his owne. Whereat the Prince was abashed, and pausing with himself, shaped him so wise and discreete an answere, as hee let him see the folly of his desire in his owne respect; in seeking to purchase him an heyre in that sort, and for him∣self discouered in his countenance a high disdayne and deepe indignation against him for making the motion; and framing so fowle a suggestion against the honour of both their Bedds, and cheifely in contempt of a principal commandment of God, and so, an open practize of Rebellion against his diuine Maiesty. The Cap∣tayne admired the wisedome and Loy∣altie of the Prince, and crauing pardon of him, protested he was extreamely edifyed with his speaches, & instructed with his vertuous example, aduowing hee had made him a Penitent and Con∣uertite, being so conuinced through

the potency of his reasons: & so hum∣bly tooke his leaue, with the fauour after al, to kisse his hand, in token of his infallible reconciliation, after so in∣solent and rash attempt.

So great was the modesty of this Prince, & so singular the gift of Sobrie∣ty & Continence in him, as there was none of his family or any of his most familiar freinds, how confident soeuer, •…•…hat at any tyme durst opē their mouths in his presence, to let fal the least word of impudicity, were it neuer so seaso∣ned with witt, or innocently inten∣ded for mirth or relaxation: much lesse any rudenes in that kind or grosse ob∣sceanes; so delicate and chast were his eares. And whensoeuer any one was so bold, to vse any least dishonest gesture, or vtter any wanton word in his pre∣sence, they were sure to haue a sharpe rebuke, at least, if not a more seuere punishment.

Such was his deuotion to the holy Sacrifice of the Masse, as hee would dayly heare it, & reuerently assist ther∣rat, and cause it often to bee solem∣nized

& celebrated with great pompe of Musiques, and his Chappel to bee adorned with tapestryes, the best and richest the Countrey afforded. In al his words and deeds he was true and constant, keeping alwayes a stedfast & euen tenour, not to day one thing, to morrow an other, as you left him so should your find him stil the same. His wit, and memory was so pregnant, as hee needed no Memorialls, vnlesse very breife, to put him in mynd in the least or weightiest affayres, a word was enough. His behauiour was gracious and debonaire, and yet not ef•…•…eminate or dissolute, but demure and modest, especially amongst women; so as his presence was enough to compose the freer dispositions, and to giue a checke to the liberty of those tymes.

His pitty and compassion to the poore was such, as noe bountyes and liberalityes towards them, besides the particular and extraordinary almes he gaue himselfe, or caused to be distribu∣ted amongst them through his assent; hee became a Riual with his Wife al∣so,

in those heauenly bootyes which she sent before into heauen. In a word, hee was a good Man, and an notable Regent which do not allwayes meete, while his deuotions and priuate spiri∣tual gusts, hindered not the progresse of publique affayres, his euen and iust distributions of tymes, so tempered & ordered al things, as hee seemed per∣petual in those occasions, and yet equally found in Closet and priuate retirements. Hee gaue audience and executed Iustice himself, with such equallity, patience, and longanimity, as hee not only by his example led the way to other Princes, but seemed to bee a lampe before them. He knew how to shew Mercy in its tyme, and to bend the brow when occasion serued, as also to contract or dilate the palme. Finally to maintayne Peace in such sort, as hee neuer was seen to breake it with his neighbour Princes.

Notes

• * 1.1

  Luc ca. 18. 1.
• * 1.2

  Rom. 8. 17.
• * 1.3

  •…•…ob. 12. 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• * 1.4

  Gen 24.
• * 1.5

  Tim. 2
• * 1.6

  Isaye 3.
• * 1.7

  Iob 31▪
• * 1.8

  Eccl. 10. 9.
• * 1.9

  Io. 2. 5.
• * 1.10

  〈◊〉〈◊〉. •…•…. 11
• * 1.11

  2. Cor. 6. 14. 1. Cor. 7. 28.
• * 1.12

  Eccl. 25. 2.