The gallery of heroick women written in French by Peter Le Moyne of the Society of Jesus ; translated into English by the Marquesse of Winchester.

(Book Barbarian)

[illustration]

PANTHEE se deffa•••• de la vie pour sunire Abradate: et 〈◊〉〈◊〉 aussi glorieusement son amour et de sa fidelité, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 mort de son courage et de sa victoire. 〈…〉〈…〉

(Book Barbarian)

The Gallant Barbarian VVomen. (Book Barbarian)

Panthea.

YOU see that it was a remarkable Day, which proved Fatal to vanquished Lydia: And which was like to prove no lesse to Victorious Persia. The Blood runs still from the Wounds of these two great Rivals: And the Earth is covered all over with the pieces of their broken Armies. But Lydia was not acquit for a little Blood and some sleight wounds. She lost there her best Men; and such as remained were put in Chains It is not yet known how For∣tune and the Conquerers will despose of Craesus. He was newly driven by Force into his Capital Citie: And his Riches in∣stead of fighting in his defence and preservation were taken and led Captives with him.

Persia also did not purchase this Important Victory at a cheap Rate: she lost there much of her pure Blood, and a great number of useful and precious lives. Abradates was the most generally Lamented: His Death, though Illustrious, ob∣scured this fair Field, and mingled Mourning with Triumph. And even in the fruition of Victory, it made victorious Cyrus to sigh, and drew tears from his ••••yes. If we had come one mo∣ment sooner, we should have seen these Noble and Generous Tears trickle down: they would have taught us that the Eyes

of Heroes are not Adamantine Eyes; And that the Vulgar are deceived, who take great Hearts, for Hearts of Brass. Cyrus then bewailed Abradates; but he did it magnificently, and after an Heroick manner. His tears were followed by a pro∣fusion of Riches, which will be presently burned with the Dead: And he is newly returned to the Camp, to give out Orders for the Funeral Pomp, and to make choice of the Victimes which were to be Immolated to the Ghost of his Friend. He believes him still in the Field of Battel, where he enjoyes his Reputation, and numbers the Dead and his own Victories.

As for these sad Preparatives and Funeral expences, they are made for the Consolation of Panthea, no less then for the Honour of Abradates. But Panthea is no longer in a Condi∣tion to Comfort her self with burn'd Purple, or Gold consumed to Ashes; with the Smoak of a Flaming Pile, and the Blood of a Butchered Flock; with the large shadow, and great Ima∣ges of a vast Sepulchre. Her Grief was too violent to expect such Superficial and VVeak Remedies; and to be cured by Ceremonies and Superstitions. She had Recourse to a Con∣solation of less Cost, and far more Efficacious: She believed that a small Piece of Steel plung'd into her Bosom, would be to her Sorrow a more Infallible and Speedy Remedie, then Mines of Gold, and Quarries of Jasper, erected into Pillars and Pyramids over her Husbands Bodie. And this Remedie, which she conceived the most speedy and Infallible, she newly took couragiously, and with a boldnesse which merited to be reserved for a lesse Tragical Occasion.

Behold on her Face the Confidence of her Spirit, and the graceful Composure of her Grief. Every thing is very Be∣coming to Beautiful Persons: Their Sorrows and Angers look handsomly; Their Tears adorn them, and their very despites Beautifie them; And there is nothing even in their Maladies and VVounds which appears not Decent; There is not any thing even in their Deaths which seems not pleasing from their Attractives, and shines not from the same Lustre which it ex∣tinguisheth. That of Panthea hath nothing hideous or gastly;

you would rather take it for a sweet Sleep, then for a violent Death. The Graces themselves, if there be any such as Paint∣ers and Poets describe, could not sleep more modestly: And a Flower which the North Winde hath withered, could not more gently bow down its Head, nor die more gracefully. It is not likewise a Palenesse which you see upon her Brow and Cheeks; It is a tincture resembling that dying Brightnesse which appears in a Clear Cloud when the Sun withdraws his Beams from it Trust not her Eyes though they begin to close: The Fire Burns still, even when it is extinguished: And the Sun being in the Ecli••se ceaseth not to be dangerous, and to offend the sight. The like may happen to these dying Eyes: The Sparkles which fall from them retain still a kinde of Light∣ning and He it: and I do not doubt but if 〈◊〉〈◊〉 were here, and that one of them should enter into his Heart it would in kindle there a second Feaver, and send back the Fire into his former VVound.

VVhilst her Eyes half shut cast forth their last Light, and that her Mouth is open to her last ••ords, you observe per∣adventure the passage of her Soul, and desire to know whe∣ther it will issue out by her Eyes or Mouth. A••••ure your self that through what art soever it passeth, it will passe gene∣rously, and depart victorious and through a fair gate. It is cre∣dible neverthelesse, that it will sally forth by the nearest Gate to the Heart, and which she her self newly made with her own Hand. A stream of Blood which goes before this great Soul, prepares the way: And spurting up even upon the Bodie of A∣bradates, enters there through all his VVounds, as if it would fill his empty Veins; as if it would even penetrate his Heart, to reinkindle the extinguished Fire; and dispose it, by the Spirits which it brings to receive the Soul which was to follow them. Her Countenanc•• though languishing expresses joy at this en∣counter. Her life seems to passe in good earnest with her Blood into her Husbands Bodie: and her Soul is assured to finde there a second Abode, which will prove more happy then the former had been.

Comforted by this Vain and sweet Imagination, she let

fall her Head upon the Head of Abradates. You would say that she prepares her self to expire upon his Lips: And that after the transmitting into him her Blood and Spirits, she re∣solves to place her Sighs and last Breath upon his Mouth. Love supports her in this Action: But it is an Heroick and Magna∣nimous Love, a Love which instructed her in Vertue and fortified her Courage. For Loves, if you are yet to learn it, are not all Wanton and Voluptuous There are Austere and Chaste Loves, there are Valiant and Philosophical ones: And amongst them, Glory and Vertue have their Confederates and Disciples, as well as Vice and Pleasure. He that assists Pan∣thea with so much Care, is one of these Confederates of Ver∣tue, and Disciples of Glory: It is he that strengthened her a∣gainst Temptations, and the Courtships of Ariaspes; he that inspired her with Chastity, and Conjugal Faith; he that taught her to apparel her self with the Reputation of her Husband, and to Adorn her self with his Victories: he that perswaded her rather to love Abradates glorious and dying with a good Name, then living and Infamie.

This manner of loving Gallantly, and like a Heroess was indeed according to Abradates own Heart: And you see in what Posture he set himself to correspond therewith We have not seen him in the Conflict breaking a Squadron of E∣gyptians, and pursuing the Victory in a Warlike Chariot; But we behold the Glorious Colours which he brought thence, and received even between the Arms of Victory. It seems that his Valour could not die with him: At least it appears still heated in his Wounds, and stately on his Face. The Rich Armour which his Generous Wife had bought him with her Pearl, was pierced thorow in divers Places; as if a great Soul could not fally forth by one single passage. The blood which trickles down from thence is mixed with the blood of his Enemies, wherewith he is covered, and seems willing still to overcome. All things have in him, some Mark of Honour and Generosity: And even Death it self is bold upon his Brow, and resembles Victory. In this so glorious and Mournfull Condition, his Vertue begot Pittie even in

those to whom in the Conflict it had bred Emulation. It was Honoured by the Blood of Enemies, and by the Tears of his Rivals: by the terrour of the one, and the affliction of the o∣ther. And immediately a sumptuous Monument erected over his Bodie and that of Panthea, buried in the same Garment, will be to each of them as a second Life and an Immortalitie of Jasper and Porphire.

SONNET.

WHile this Heroick Mede attempts to gain O're weighty Palms, be by their poyse is slain; His Brow still sweats with Gallans Actions done, Still do's the Blood about his Armour run.

His Hearts late active Flames have lost their Fire, And, through its reaking Blood, in Smoak expire, While, couch'd among the Dead, his Soul pursues The wand'ring Shades of those the sword subdues.

O hold, Panthea hold: thy best Relief Rests in the moderation of thy Grief: Save thou at least thy Husbands second Heart, And let one Death suffice your common Smart.

In thee he still survives, and may again In thee, fair Cruel, by thy Hand be slain: Th•• inhumane Steel that shall dismiss thy Breath, To him must needs procure a second Death.

ELOGIE OF PANTHEA.

PANTHEA had a Philosophers Spirit in a Womans Bodie, and a knowing and disciplined Soul under a Bar∣barous Climat. There was nothing weak or rustical in her Life: All her Actions were full of Courage and Dexteritie. Chastity, Grace, and Modesty excepted, nothing appeared in her agreeable to her Sex. Having remained a Captive after the Defeat of the Assyrians vanquished by Cyrus, she was set apart, as the most precious piece of the Spoil, and as the choicest fruit of the Victory. And in this occasion her Vertue appeared more rare and prizable then her Beauty. A noble man of Persia having had the Impudence to attempt upon her Honour, Discre∣tion, Chastity, and Fidelity defended it: And the Victory which re∣mained to her, evidently shewed that Fortune had not yet overcome her. And that though she were an absolute Captive, yet she had al∣wayes a free Heart and a soveraign Soul.

The Affection she bore to her Husband Abradates, was serious and manly, she did not consume it in affected Discourses, and superfluous Apprehensions. She truly loved his Life and Repose; but she was jea∣lous of his Reputation and Renown: And she would rather have wished him an untimely and glorious Death, then a dishonoured and compleat old Age. So far was she from making him lose in her Closet the hours of the Field, and from withdrawing him from Gallant Encoun∣ters, and Honourable Dangers; that she sent him thither in a costly Equipage like a Conquerer; that she delighted to see in him an adorn∣ed and sumptuous Valour, which might both dazle and affright; which might beget at once both Admiration and Fame.

He died likewise Victorious in the Gold Armour which she had bought for him with her Pearl and pretious Stones: as if she intended thereby either to adorn his Death, or to set a Value and Lustre on his Victory. Being brought to her covered over with his own Blood, and that of his Enemies, she received him Couragiously and with a manly Constancy, mixt with sorrow and Majesty. She forbore not to bewail him, but it was done with those modest and decent Tears which do not soften the Heart, but beautifie the Face. Not being able to make his Soul return into his Body, she essayed to substitute her own in the place of it: For that end she opened her Bosom by a wide wound: and leaning on him, as if she were willing to fill his Heart with her Blood and Life; she dyed in two Bodies, and yeelded up her Soul through her Husbands Wound and and her own.

MORAL REFLECTION.

I Put not here a Sword into Womens Hands, nor invite them unto Poison, a Halter, or Precipice. Voluntary Death might appear handsom and becoming in this Barbarian; it would seem black and hideous in a Christian Woman. But Chastity, Fidelity and Constancie are in use with all Nations, and requisite for All Sects. And our Chri∣stian Women without darkning or disfiguring themselves may imitate Barbarian. Let them learn of her, that Conjugal Love is not an effe∣minate and mincing Passion; That it is vigorous and serious; That it is capable of great Designes, and of Noble and Couragious Thoughts. Let them understand, that though their Sex be exempted from the Dangers and Functions of War, yet their Fortunes and Mindes are not so: that they ought to serve with their Goods and Possessions, if not with their Persons: And that it were a Disgrace for them to spare two or three Pearls, and Parcels of rich Cutwork in Occasions, wherein Princes are Liberal of their Blood, and Kings expose their Crowns and Heads. In fine let them know that their chief Ornament consists in their Hus∣bands Glory: that they ought to adorn themselves with all that con∣tributes to their Credit and Reputation: And that a man without Honour is as great a Deformity to a brave Woman, as a Head of Clay to a Statue of Ivorie.

MORAL QUESTION.

Concerning the Order which a Gallant Woman ought to observe in Conjugal Love.

IF good Eyes and a great Light be requisite to love regularly, more Courage and Vertue is yet required to it: And well ordained Cha∣rity what sweetness soever it promiseth, is the most powerful, and the most rare perfection of a Gallant Woman. There are many who ten∣derly love their Husbands: The Heart of a Turtle or the Soul of a Dove, without other Philosophie would suffice for this Tendernesse. But surely, few there are that love them according to measure and in or∣der to their duties; few that know how to afford just proportions to their kindnesses, and to set every office in its place, and in the degree which is proper to it: Finally few that can boast with the Spouse in the Canticles of having a regular Love, and a well ordered Charity. And neverthelesse it is this regular Love, and well ordered Charitie which must accomplish the Fortitude of a Woman; For according to the saying of S. Augustine, these give the Character and Tincture to all

other Vertues of what Sex soever they be, and by what Names soever they are called.

Morever this Order, to draw the Designe of it in little, and to teach it by Epitomie, must be taken from the very order of those Objects that are beloved. Wherein this proportion is to be exactly observed, that every Object be ranked in the esteem, and according to the degree of its Merit: That the most pretious and important should have the first Cares and be furthest advanced in the Heart; that the rest of lesse consequence should remain in the superficies, and rest satisfied with the second thoughts and remaining Affections: And generally that love should grow intense or remisse, rise or fall, act or acquiesce according to the different weight, according to the several degrees, according to the Value of the good which is to be affected and pursued.

This Rule ought to be in a Gallant Woman, what the Rod was to the Angel whom Ezekiel saw measuring the Temple. She ought not to Love, but with proportion according to the quantity of merit: And how vast soever her Heart is, she must yet be wary of pouring it out rashly and at random, she ought to give nothing of it but by weight and measure. Not that I permit her to divide, and distribute it to whom she pleaseth, she owes it all entire to her Husband: But she owes it not equally to her whole Husband. And as she owes more of it to his Person, then to his Apparel and Livery; more to his Head, then to his Hair, and more of it to his Hands, then to his Nails: so she owes more to his Honour then to his Life; more to his Conscience then to his Honour, more to his Soul and Salvation, then to his Bodie and Fortune.

These measures and proportions are taken from Moral Philosophie, which teacheth us, that such Loves as are loosned from us, and slide out of us, are but small threads of that Love which remains in us. They are taken from Christian Philosophie, which directs that Charity, whe∣ther it be terminated in our selves, or shed upon our Neighbour, should be of the same Nature, both in its source, and where it makes its dis∣charge; and that it should passe from one to another to the same end, by the same tracks. Now there is no Woman so ill instructed, who knows not, that by the Law of well ordered Charity, she owes her essential and principal parts, and as I may say, the Heart of her Heart, to his Honour and eternal Happiness: And owes only the ac∣cessory and superficial parts to his Life and Fortune. By this Law then, as such Wives love themselves immoderately and inordinately, who give to their Honour and Salvation but their second affections, and the remaining cares after their lives secured, and their Fortunes setled. So such do love their Husbands very confusedly, and without discretion, who torment themselves both day and night about their Health, who demand of Fortune Riches and noble Offices for them; and put them∣selves to as little trouble concerning their Souls and Salvation, as if the Bodie were the whole Person; and as if beyond the Tomb there

were nothing but Fables to be expected and nothing but Fantomes to be feared.

Certainly so inconsiderate a Love must needs have very bad Eyes: And it cannot be, whatever men say, but a very childish and besotted Love, to value things by the sound and colour, to forsake the solid which is obscure, and noiseless; and to run after the superficial which is bright and resounding. What would they say of a Woman who should take the pains every morning to present flowers unto her Husband, and who should at a great expence cause Essences and pretious Powders to be brought from forreign parts to perfume his Clothes and Linen; who should take upon her to feed his Servants and Horses; who should dis∣consolately lament the fall of one Hair from his Head, and the prick of a pin on his Hand. And after all these Tendernesses and Cares, could without Emotion and with a quiet Spirit see him choak'd with an Apo∣plexie, torn in pieces by his Dogs, and tyed upon a Wheel? What might be spoken of this Woman, ought to be said of the most discreet and prudent Women, I mean the discreet and prudent according to the sence of the World. There are some of these wise and discreet Wo∣men who employ all sorts of Cares and Inventions about the Body and Passions of a Husband. The touch of a Lancet which should but scratch the skin would even pierce their Hearts, and cause their very Souls to issue forth by their Eyes. A sleight Feaver which shall draw but a few drops of sweat from him, will congeal the blood in their veins. And as for his soul, which is the essential and important piece in order to Eternity, they lesse deplore its falls and wounds, then they would lament a torn Gorget, or a broken Dish of Purcelane. They will suffer it without trouble to be tormented by as many Hangmen as there are sins to be confiscated to the Divine Justice, and to its eternal Executio∣ners, to become a prey to Hell and the second Death.

A Gallant Woman will not have such confused cares, nor such dis∣proportionable kindnesses: All her Offices will be Just and Regular. And if Panthea, who was but a Heathen, nay a Barbarous Heathen, had a Heart Noble and Philosophical enough to with her Husband rather a precipitated and Honourable Death, then an effeminate and disho∣nourable old Age; our Christian Woman, who hath more light and a better Guide will advance one step farther; and will rather wish for the last perfection of her Love, that her Husband might ascend to Heaven before his time; though he went thither without Feet or Hands, as the Gospel saith, nay without either skin or Head, then to descend into Hell all entire, and loaden with Scepters and Crowns. This Vertue is not without example: some of them are seen in the Palaces of Kings, where present interest crouds in, and findes so much relief; and where the pretensions for the future are so little considerable and abandoned. Those which I am going to present to your View are of this Nature: they give not only instruction to Women, but will render Honour to France, which hath educated Holy Queens and Martyred Princesses.

EXAMPLE.

Indegundis, and Clotilda of France.

SPAIN was never so well cultivated, nor so Catholick as now it is. It hath had Monsters, and Heresies, Gertons and Arians in a time when 〈◊〉〈◊〉 was ••et a Virgin and when Rebellions and Errors were not 〈◊〉〈◊〉 come to disturb her Repose and adulterate her Innocence. We were necessitated to make Alliances and Wars for the instruction of this good Neighbour: And the Faith, whereof she now so much ••aunteth, hath cost us exposed Princesses and ruined Armies. Inde∣gund•••• the Daughter of Sig••••••rt was one of these Princesses exposed for the propagation of Faith, and the reduction of Spain from Arianisme. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 caused her to be demanded in Marriage for Hermenigildus his eldest Son. The Counsel sat long without being able to resolve on this Alliance with an excommunicated House. But God who intended to make a Saint of Indegundis carried it at last against Sigebert, who feared least in seeking to make her a Queen, she were made a Heretick.

The first 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of her Marriage had a most pure serenity, and flowers without thorns or bitternesse. Hermenigildus for all the Crowns of the World would not have changed the pleasing tye, which fastned him to so rare and perfect a Princesse: and possessing in her both Vertue and Graces, he thought that there was nothing more to be asked of Glory or Fortune. But so sweet a season was not to last long, Dark Clouds quickly gathered together which overshaded this fair serenity: There grew Thorns and Wormwood amongst these Flowers: And the sweet Chain which was the Dradem of Hermenigildus Heart, chanced to be broken by the malice of his Step-Mother Gosuinda.

This unhappy Woman, possessed by the Devil of Arianism, undertook to pervert Indegundis and proposed unto her to receive the profane Ba∣ptism of her 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Her s••••atagems and wiles having ill success, she imploi∣ed therein, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and Tyranny even to that height, as she made her to be cast naked into a Pond, threatning to drown her unless she would change her Religion. The couragious Princess was not daunted at the Death she saw before her Eyes, and as it were upon the Brink of her Lips. She was drawn out from thence with an initiated Martyrdom, and a compleat Victory. And to overcome her self, as she had vanquish∣ed Gosuinda and Heresie, she suppressed the resentment of this injurie, and concealed it even from Hermenigildus himself. But the Eyes of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 are more spiritual, and see farther then others: they have some∣thing of prophetical in them: and the most artificial dissimulation with all its Countenances, and Masks, could not make them believe it. The Prince no sooner beheld her as yet pale with the Combat she had lately sought, but he conceived an ill opinion of this Paleness: And

not knowing whether he should take it for a signe of the past evil, or for a presage of evil to come; he suffered in a Moment all that Indegun∣dis either had or could yet suffer. His Intreaties at last having wrested the Truth out of her Mouth, he left the Court with her, and retired to Sivil.

It was there where the Princesse freed from the Importunites and wicked Devices of Gosuinda set upon Herisie in her turn: And gained a second victory over her, which was evidently the Recompence of the first. She was a Soveraign in her Husbands Heart: and though this Soveraignty of Love placed her above all the Empires of the Earth; yet she had a scruple to reign in that Heart, where the Son of God was degraded. Having an Heretical Husband, she could not believe her self to be entirely Catholick: And becoming one self same Flesh and Bo∣die with an excommnnicated Person, she apprehended to be burned or stained with his Anathema: she feared left the sound part might draw putrifaction and infection from the corrupted. But though she were assured of her own salvation by an expresse Revelation from Heaven; yet the eternal Reprobation of her Husband was a frightful Specter, which awaked her every Night, and caused her to have strange Dreams. At every moment she seemed to behold the Sword of the Di∣vine Justice severing two so well united halfs; And the exterminating Angels seized upon the one and cast it into Flames.

On the other side she apprehended that the Conversion of Herme∣nigildus might prove fatal to both their Lives, or at least that it might infire the State. She had reason to fear the Furie of an irritated Step-mother, and the Hands of an Heretical Father, become a Tyrant. It seemed to her, that it would be more proper to suffer God to work; To expect the effect of his Mercie with patience, and to enjoy, mean∣while, the Flower of her Youth, the Fruits of her marriage, and the Offers of Fortune; then to lose all this by an indiscreet Pietie and of Supererogation; and by an Enterprise exceeding her Forces. Faith nevertheless weighed more with her Spirit, then human Considerati∣ons: and the Interest of Eternity prevailed against the Interest of Time. She resolved, whatever might happen, no longer to endure this Divorce of Religion, which profaned her Marriage: No longer to suffer the Excommunication and Anathema of her Head, the Here∣sie and Reprobation of her Husband.

Love was the first Doctor that began the Conference with Hermeni∣gildus: The Graces, who are perswasive without speaking, joyned themselves with Love, and were of the Party. There were neither Texts cited, nor Reasons alleadged in this Dispute: All the Argu∣ments were Tears and Prayers: And Tears and Prayers effected more then all the Divinity converted into Dilemmas and Syllogysms could have done. Hermenigildus, shaken by this first Conference, shewed less opposition at the second, which he had with the Bishop of S. Leander. And the Light of Truth working more efficaciously, and with more

Force upon a Subject, which the fire of Love had prepared, he submit∣ted at last to both. This change made a great noise: and he himself, to give notice of it to all Spain, caused Mony to be coyned which was as it were a publike Act of his Faith, and an abjuration of Heresie, which his Image and Name published thorowout all the Cities.

After this, the Father irritated at the Conversion of his Son, and the Son inflamed with his new received Faith, came to an open Breach. ••n••aged Gosuinda, and the Furious Hereticks enkindled the Wrath of the Father. The Church of Spain being under persecution, and the Catholicks ill treated, increased the Zeal of the Son. Indegundis tryed all sorts of Expedients to bring things to moderation, and to reconcile 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to his Father, as she had reconciled him to God.

She seriously and with Tears represented to him the ill example and dan∣gers of this War, and made him discern, that after a long contention it could lead him but to a decryed and scandalous Victory, or to a dismal Defeat followed by a Tragick Death. She made him call to Minde the Heroick Maximes of that Faith he had embraced: And often repeated to him, that according to this Faith Acts of Injustice might less handsomly be committed, then suffered: and that there was no Sufferes in so bad a Condition, who was not of more value then the most happy Criminal of the World.

But the Fire was al∣ready too much ••nkindled: And there were too many Hands and Mouths, which stirred the Coals on all sides. Hermenigildus who foresaw that it would be great and lasting, resolved not to cast himself all entire into it, and without reserve. He believed that if the dearest part of himself were removed, the other part which he should expose thereunto, would thereby become more Couragious, and be better pre∣pared against all the stroaks of Fortune.

He resolved then to send Indegundis into Africa: And Indegundis was not a little troubled to resolve for this passage: She was in very great apprehension concerning the Life and Liberty of her Husband: but her fear was much greater for his as yet tender Faith, and for his initia∣ted Salvation: And having conjured him at her departure to make an Accomodation with his Father; and to endeavour rather to gain then vanquish him: She added with a serious Tone, and with a more affir∣mative Countenance,

But Hermenin••ldus to what side soever the For∣tune of War shall encline, and what proposition soever shall be ten∣dred you, take heed of entring into any Treaty wherein Religion en∣ters not with you If Peace can be purchased with some losse, remain a looser in Gods Name to obtain it: but let the losse be of your For∣tune, and not of your Piety. Abandon freely to the bad time, your Pretentions and Rights, your Crown and Succession, nay your Head with your Crown, and your Life with your Succession: but proceed in such sort, that you preserve at least your Faith, and rest assured that conserved Faith will render you all things with use.

Hermenigildus promised to remember her good Instructions: He himself took the

Spirit and Zeal thereof from her Mouth. And all that he promised, he kept exactly and with Constancy.

War having bin unfortunate to him, and the Imperial Forces which he had called to his aid having betrayed him after a long Siege, he lost Sivil and Cordona. And in this extremity he remembred the tears of Indegun∣dis; and acquainted Leovigildus with the inclination he had to Peace and Obedience. The old Man, who was not ignorant that despair is a dangerous weapon, and that the last Efforts of the vanquished, and the bitings of dying Beasts are equally to be feared, sent his Brother Richardus to him, who ended the matter by perswasion, and brought him in, without giving other Assurance then his Word. This confi∣dence was Hazardous and full of Danger: And it is credible, that the remembrance of Indegundis wrought more effectually therein, then the perswasions of Ricaredus. The old man also having him in his power, forgot his own Blood and Nature; and having in vain tryed him, like a Tempter and a Tyrant, with Offers and Threats, Chains and Prisons, not being able to deprive him of his Faith, he took off his Head

Indegundis received this Newes with a sad Satisfaction, And a Resent∣ment wherein even in Despite of her, Nature was present with Grace. She bewailed her dead Husband, and crowned him a Martyr; And she could not crown him more richly then with her Tears. A few dayes after God called Indegundis to give her a Crown. Affliction, Love, and Zeal loosned her Soul: she died Victorious over Nature and Heresie: And at her expiring cast forth a light which illuminated all Spain, and finished the Conversion of that Countrey under the Reign of Ricare∣dus who succeeded 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

The Combats of Clo••••ld•• were no lesse celebrious, nor lesse glorious to France then these of Indegundis. But Spain drew not thence the same advantage: And the ill treatment it gave her had not so happy a sequel. She was Daughter of the great Clodovens, and of this holy and wise Clo••ld••, whom Christian France acknowledged for her Mother and In∣structresse. The King her Father caused her to espouse Amanlry, who was a Go•••• by Birth, and an Arian by profession. He was ignorant what a Monster is formed of Barbarism and Heresie assembled in one and the same Bodie: but he believed that a far stranger and dreadful Monster might be charmed by the Vertue of his Daughter: He believed that the Name of Clo••••lda was an Apostolical and miraculous Name: and that the second might well effect in Spain, a Conversion like that which the first had wrought in France. But the time for this Conversion was not yet come: Ama••lry imitated those obstinate Asps, which are men∣tioned in Scripture: He shut his Eyes and Stopped his Eares, for fear of being charmed by Clo••lda. So far was he from respecting the Graces, which instructed him; and from submitting to so sweet and pleasing a Vertue, that he became a Tyrant and Executioner to them: He used all possible Inventions to pervert these Graces: He practised all sorts of Violence to betray this Vertue to Heresie. It lay not in his power to

overcome the Courage of Clod••ve••s, and the Sanctity of their Daugh∣ter. The good Princesse armed with their Spirit, and fortified by the remembrance of their Triumphs and Miracles, resisted his Wiles and Violence. How little soever she had complyed and given way to the Tempter, she might have reclaimed the Tyrant, and made him a good Husband: But the preferred Honourable Wounds before deceitful and dangerous Carresses; and rather affected a Tyrant who might crown her, then a Husband who might corrupt her.

It cannot be expressed how costly this crown was to her: and how much she suffered from a Prince and People equally Barbarous and pos∣sessed with the same Devil and Heresie. Her Husband tormented her at Home with the Countenance of a Hangman, and with words of Blood and Death, and abroad she suffered the outrages of an insolent and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Multitude, which followed her with Reproaches and throwing of stones, when she went to Church. The Heretical Ministers added 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to this publick Violence: And Amaulry himself, who authorized it by his Example, did once so outragiously beat the poor Queen, that he covered her all over with Blood, leaving her half dead. Having re∣covered her senses, she sent her bloody Hankerchief to her Brethren Kings The Blood of the Innocent had both Spirit and Voice upon this Linen, and carried Indignation and Wrath thorowout all France. 〈…〉〈…〉 took horse, and marched at the Head of thirty thousand men to require his Sister. This journey cost Amaulry his Life, and Spain cha∣stised, de••••ayed the Charges of it. As for Clo••ilda, she was called to Heaven before her Arrival in France. Peradventure God foresaw that her Merit would suffer some diminution by repose; and that her Crown might be lessened thereby. And intending to give it her compleat and fulls round, he bestowed it on her immediately after her Victory. However it were, Clo••ilda added to Indegundis, to Blanch of Bourbon, and others who followed them, made us believe that Spain was fatal to our Princesses, as it hath been thought to be fatal to those Planets who go thither to expire. In effect all those that have been sent thither dyed very young, and replenished with Life and Light. But this death was only in appearance like that of the Planets. God made them passe from thence to a better Life, and to a Kingdom of longer durance. And it is credible that they have there a particular Lustre, and hold the rank of Princesses amongst highly descended Martyrs, and noble Sufferers.

[illustration]

[illustration]

CAMME Princesse de Galatie, victorieuse de l'Amour et de la Mort, fait un sacrifice fidelité et de vengeance à l'Ombre de Sinnate son Mary. 〈…〉〈…〉

Camma.

HOW vain are the Hopes of Man! And how dangerous Imposters, and treacherous Guides are Desires! Sinnorix came hither to give a beginning to his Marriage: Death, which is found every where, would be at the Feast in Despite of the publick Joy. That which is very strange, Love himself brought him thither: and by a new and Fatall Revolution of all things, Vertue is there a Cheat and a Homicide: And the betrothed serve as Victimes to the Sacrifice prepared for the Ceremonie of their Nuptials.

Fidelity and Treacherie are the Subject of this Action; Camma and Sinnorix are the Actors; and the Temple is the Scene. Sinnorix not being able to overcome the Chastity of Camma, at last caused her Husband Sinnarus to be slain, that he might succeed to his Bed and Throne. And Camma knowing no other way to be quit with Sinnorix, compassed it by the feigned Consent she gave to his Addresses. She deserted not her Revenge to time and occasions which might happen: she would not expect obscure and Domestick ones: she believed that she ought to satisfie her self in a high, and remarkable way: And without giving one moment of Truce to her Enemie, she comes to poison her self publickly with him, by the drink which was prepared to confirm with Cere∣monie,

and by a solemn sacrifice the Contract of their Mar∣riage.

The Declaration she made of so Couragious, and so little expected an Action, raised a Tumult in the Temple, and con∣fusion amongst the people. No person is seen there who re∣flects on the Goddesse, or remembers the Sacrifice. The Victimes which were already at the Foot of the Altar crowned with Garlands of Flowers, and powdred over with fine Meal, were affrighted at the Noise made about them: And saving themselves with their Garlands and Ribbons threw down the Perfumes and Censors; and scattered the Assistants surprized with Astonishment, Superstition, and Fear. Instead of bring∣ing them back, the most confident accompany them in their Flight. The Virgins of Diana only stayed behinde, and they themselves were detained by a Terrour which tyed their feet and congealed the Blood in their Veins. Their astonishment and fear appeared on their faces, which bore the Color of their Garments. The very flowers of their Crowns seemed to wax pale by their Example, and Affrightment. The Torches fallen from their Hands are extinguished by the Milk and and Wine of the Goblets which were tumbled down: And of these two confounded Liquors a third is composed, which retains the Colour of them both.

In this general tumult Camma alone remains quiet and undaunted. She was never more fair and Graceful then you now behold her: She never drank any thing more delici∣ous or pleasing to the taste, then that Remnant of Death she newly gave her Enemie. The sweetnesse of the Revenge she took, wrought upon her Heart before the poison, and penetrated even to the bottom of her Soul. There was spread from thence upon her face an effusion of Joy, accompanied with a majestical and pleasing fiercenesse, even Anger it self was there graceful: and the last drops of its Gall had there a kinde of Sweetnesse. Nothing is seen in her of that Death she had taken in: her Couutenance resembles a Conqueresse, and in her Attire something appears festival and Triumphant.

The very Flowers where with she is Crowned seem to rejoyce that they shall not be carried to a profane and polluted Bed: And that they shall dye Ghast and without Blemish in her Company. It was believed that she had taken them to sacri∣fice with more decencie; and to render Honour to her Mini∣stery, and new Marriage: And this was done to go more ad∣orned to Sinnatus, and to Triumph over Sinorix with more Pomp.

The wretched Man dejected by the Guilt of his Consci∣ence, and pierced by the Reproaches of Camma, falls on the Ground with the Fatal Cup which deceived him. The Pale∣nesse of Death, which he drank, begins to spread it self on his Face: And disquieted by his Despair, no lesse then by his An∣ger, he looks upon Camma, with Eyes which speak neither a Lover nor a Husband. I think also that he vents forth against her all the Gall of his Spirit, which is more bitter, and comes from a far worse spring then the poison he drank. And being able to do her no more mischief, he dismembers her at least by his desires and Gesture: And makes of her Bodie as many pieces, as he sends forth Imprecations and Reproaches against her. She hears him coldly and without Trouble. It may be said that she loves him in this Condition: And having never beheld him without Horrour, she now sees him with Joy. Meanwhile the Poison gaining on her Noble Parts, and find∣ing the Heart half open, by the Effort which her Soul makes there to sally forth, and reunite it self to Sinnatus; behold her sinking between the Hands of her Maids.

They are well recovered of their first disorder; but in no Condition to help her, if their tears serve not for an Antidote. The best they can do is to lift up their Eyes and hands to the Goddesse, and to demand of her by their Gestures and Sighes the preservation of so sublime a Vertue, for the Honor and Ex∣ample of their Sex. Do not believe that they are heard. Camma opposeth their Petitions, and offers up Prayers to the contrary. In the Smoak of the extinguished Torches, and the overturned Censors she beholds the Ghost of Sinnatus still bleeding from his VVound, who gives her a signe, that it is time to depart; And

that she is expected in the Region of Chast and Faithful Souls. Her impatience redoubles at this Object: And her Heart clo∣sing up she takes leave of the Goddesse; Craves Pardon for ha∣ving in her Temple, and at the Foot of her Altar and Image, sa∣crificed to Love and Revenge: And with these last words, ren∣dred up her Spirit with a serene Countenance; and such as a Conquerour would have, who after the gaining of a Victory, should expire in the f••uition of his Glory.

SONNET.

THis Queen, whose noble wrath admits no rest, (With poison at her Lips, Death neer her Breast) Do's the now trembling Synnorix upbraid With that sad stroke his murd'rous Hand convey'd.

Her Husbands Ghost, which often call'd in vain, (With Langnor pale, yet bloody as when slain) Waits to receive her in that Cloud the late Extinguish'd Torches with their smoak create.

Brave Soul forsake not thy fair Prison; stay, Do not, Renowned Camma, post away To thy Sinnatus, ere the poisnous Draught Have on his Murd'rers Head due Vengeance wrought

To which the Heav'ns and all things else conspire With his sad Fate, and thy inflamed Ire: And Love himself i•• accelerate his pain, Megrra's Torch, and Deaths cold Shafts hath ta'ne.

ELOGIE OF CAMMA.

CAMMA Princess of Galatia, and the Wife of Sinnatus, was doubly Soveraign, and reigned by the right of her blood, and by that of her Face Her Beauty which was her first Crown, drew Suters to her, and furnished her with Combats: and these Combats rendred her Spint sit for War, and manifested her Courage and ••idelity. Her Vertue made Fortune Jealous, and her Beauty begot Love in Si∣norix. But not complying with Sinorix, and abandoning all to Fortune, she remained victorious over both Sollicitations and Services proving unsuccesseful to Sinorix, he employed Despair and Crimes: And per∣swaded that a vacant place would be weakly defended, and with lesse obstinacie, he murdered Sinnatus; and of his Bodie makes a step to his Bed and Throne. This Blow strengthened the Couragious Princesse instead of dejecting her. She gave no Ear to the bloody Ghost of Sin∣natus which summoned her; And before she would follow him resolved to revenge his Death.

After so soul and base a Treachery Sinorix renewed his addresses, and sweetned them with the Name of Marriage. He presented himself to Camma with all the Artifices and Disguisement, by which he thought to hide from her his Crime. She failed not to discern it through all his Arts and Disguises, and to scent the Murther and blood which remained still fresh upon him. Nevertheless the restrained her self: And for fear of losing her stroke if she lifted up her hand too high, she enclosed her Designe in her Heart with her Anger.

In sine, after many premeditated difficulties, and counterfeit irreso∣lutions she seigned to submit to the perswasions of her Kindred who sol∣licited her in Sinorix behalf; and gave them her Consent and Promise. At the assigned day for the Ceremonie of her Marriage, all things be∣ing ready for the Sacrifice, she took the cup in which poison was steep∣ed: And having out of respect poured forth two or three drops there∣of upon the Altar of the Goddess, she drank part of it, and gave the rest to Sinorix. The unhappy Creature expecting to taste the first sweets of his Marriage, drank there his Death, and the punishment of his Crime. Camma had the satisfaction to see him die with her: And having enjoyed two or three hours of her Revenge, and the Glory of her Fidelity, she went to carry the News of both to Sinnatus.

MORAL REFLECTION.

ALL the Lines of this Picture are instructive, and the very shadows of it are luminous, and enlighten the understanding. We learn from the unfortunate Beauty of Camma, that as there be flowers which impoison, so there are Riches which render those unhappy who possess them: And that very often we are only slung with what glit∣ters about us, as well as with what pleaseth and adorns us. We are taught likewise by her Courage, that in the Combats of Vertue, Victory consists in the strength of the Minde, and not of the Bodie: That the weakest Sex may herein Dispute in point of advantage with the stron∣gest: and that a Crown is more for the Heart, then for the Arms or for the Head. On the other side we learn from the Crime of Sinorix, that unchast Love is a dangerous Guest: It enters with Nosegayes in its Hand, and Garlands on his Head; And assoon as it comes into a House, and hath there setled it self, it exhibits poisons and swords. We gather also from his punnishment, that Divine Justice, though it sets forth late, yet it fails not to arrive in due time: And that without causing Exe∣cutioners to come afar off, it often makes our Idols become our Tor∣mentors, and our sins our punishments.

MORAL QUESTION.

Why Conjugal Love is more Faithfull in Women, then in Men.

I Suppose the Truth of the Thesis, and suppose it upon the Report of History, which is the Conserver of Truth, and the Depository of fair Originals and eminent Examples. I have been consulting on it in all Countreyes and Ages: and I confess that in every Countrey and Age where I have examined it, History hath shewn me Heroick Women by Troops, who dyed out of Fidelity and Love to their Hus∣bands. But when I required from it Husbands of the like Vertue and Courage, scarce could it furnish me with enough to make a number. This certainly is wonderful, yet most true: And such as shall not have Faith enough to believe it upon my word, may inform themselves upon the places.

They will be shewed in Greece the Ashes of E••ad••e, who cast her self into the flaming Pile of her Husband; and who by an honest and law∣ful Love performed that which a furious Heroe, and vaunting Philoso∣phers have done either out of brutish despair, or ridiculous vanity. They will be shewed the Web wherewith Penelope preserved her self for Vlysses: the Cup in which Camma drank death and revenge: Another Cup wherin

Artemisia drank the Ashes of Mansolus. They would cause them to see at Rome the Coals which Porcea swallowed: the Dagger of Aria and those efficacious words by which she gave Reputation to her Death, and Courage to that of Petus: The Lancet wherewith Paulina opened her Veins, that she might die with Seneca: And divers other famous pieces which are in Veneration with the Ancients; and which are seen still coloured with Blood, and marked with the Fidelity of Wo∣men. The sight of these pieces is sufficient alone, and without other proof to perswade, that Women love more constantly, and with more Fidelity then Men. But I suppose this Advantage of Womens Fidelity above that of Men, who have hitherto lest no Reliques of it: And seeking Reasons for it in Natural and Moral Philosophy, I finde eight, which added to the Memorials of Antiquity, will strengthen this Pro∣position against the malitious Allegations wherewith some use to as∣sault it: And which may make it at least an Article of Human Belief.

First, if Philosophy and Experience have Authority enough to be credited therein, Affections follow Humours; and take their quali∣ties and tincture from the temper which serves them for matter. Now it is not doubted, but Melancholy is the predominant Humour in a Woman: it is not doubted, but that her Temper is more moist and her Complexion more tender then ours: we ought not then to doubt, but that her Affections are more adhering and setled: and that she is more strongly united to whatsoever she fastens her self. Why should we doubt it, since Melancholy hath been hitherto believed to be the matter of Constancie, and the most proper Oyle to nourish the fire of Love? Since we see that loft things are better linked together then hard ones: and that without Humidity no lasting union can be made. From thence comes the ancient saying, which declares that the affecti∣ons of Women can endure no Mediocrity: and that whatever they de∣sire, they desire it obstinately, and without intermission.

Let us adde Instinct to Humour, and Necessity to Complexion: and what Faith teacheth us, concerning the Creation of Woman taken out of the side of Man, being supposed; Let us alledge for the second Reason, that the Instinct of the part to the whole being of necessity, and consequently stronger then the Instinct of the whole to the part, which is but of congruity: It was according to the order of Nature that a Woman should do by an Intelligent and Judicious inclination, what all other separated parts perform out of a blinde and insensible Propension. And since Man, from whom she was taken, is necessary for her conservation; it appears nothing strange, that she adheres more constantly to him, and renders him more affection then she receives: And besides, this surplusage which she gives him, is lesse an advance and a work of supererogation, then a duty and acknowledgment.

After this second Reason there follows a third, which is grounded upon the Assistance and good Offices which Women receive from Men. This assistance is frequent and more then ordinary, and these offices

continual and at all hours. Those which the Bodie receives from the Head can hardly suffer lesse interruption; those which the Moon ex∣pects from the Sun can scarce be more necessary to her. And therefore if good offices be the tyes of Hearts, and the chains of Souls; is it not reasonable that Women should love more then they are beloved; and be more strongly ••astned then they fasten; since in the Domestick So∣ciety they servelesse then they are served; and are more obliged then they oblige? Should they have lesse of good Nature then 〈◊〉〈◊〉, which fastens it self inseparably to the Tree that supports it, and ne∣ver leaves it either in Life or Death? Should they love lesse constantly then the Female Palm, which never findes comfort, never receives verdure, nor is ever capable of Renovation after the Death of her Male to which she was allyed.

This Fidelity doth not only appertain to the dutie and gratitude of Women: but it concerns their Honour and Glory: And whether in their opinion there be something of Nature and Instinct therein; whether there be not something of Tradition or Hear-say; they are all perswaded that Constancy, next to Chastity, is the predominant Ver∣tue and the essential quality of Vertuous Women. Men place not therein their puncti••••o of Honour: there is no Title less alledged among them, there is no quality more cheap, then that of a good Husband: They scarce rank or hold it considerable in the Description of a Gallant Man. And from hence it comes, that Constancie and Fi∣delity, whereof I speak, being not controverted with Women, they have ingrossed them both to themselves, and left to men in their room Valour, Knowledge, Justice, and other Vertues, which as they concei∣ved, suted better with the Dignity of their Sex.

Moreover, it is the chief Ambition of good Women to be beloved by their Husbands entirely and with perseverance. This begets their Peace and Content at home: this procures them a good Name, and a good odour of Reputation abroad On the other side they know, and Nature hath taught it them, that the Heart is the only Bait with which another Heart may be taken: and that Love, to which wings are given, is a Bird not to be caught, but by another Love. From whence it ariseth, that to possess this so important Love, they make advances of it which exhaust them, and whereof very often there remains only in them a habit of loving solitarily, and an obstinate and customary Fidelity.

Besides, it is with the Heart of a Woman, as with Rivers which are kept in, and shut up; and have but a little Descent by which they have liberty to disburthen themselves. Conscience and Honour, Chastitie and Fear, the Laws of God, and the Laws of the World are the ob∣stacles which encompass it on every side: and it cannot dilate it self without breaking them, not break them without extraordinary vio∣lence. Likewise, when amidst so many obstacles, the discharge lies open to it on the Husbands part, it pours it self forth on that side with more impetiosity and restriction, then doth the Heart of a Man,

which resembles those shallow Rivers, which have neither Ridges not Ba••••••••, but many little open streams through which they disburthen themselves.

Let us also say, that Women being freed from many affairs where∣with Men are charged; And Love being, as a certain Person said, the businesse of persons wanting employment, and the occupation of those that are at leasure: they must necessarily love with more Force, and with more application of minde then they are beloved.

In sine, I adde for the eighth Reason, that Love hath Jealousies like a King: It is also the Princely and Soveraign Passion: And in a Heart where it reigns, it cannot endure that any should go equal with it, nor play the Mistresse. Now the Hearts of Men are more divided, and sub∣ject to more Passions then those of Women. Every day occasions and affairs introduce there some New Passion: and every one will com∣mand in its turn, and reign at least on the day of its Arrival. Perfect Love, which is Jealous of its Authority, and an enemie to disorder and confusion: not knowing how to be at quiet and in a state of Honour amidst these turbulent Passions, gives way to them, and retires into a Womans Heart: And it is there lesse disquieted and more abso∣solute: No Rival is found there to rise up against it: There is no Pas∣sion which doth not obey it. For this Reason, Fortune, Affairs, and the Passions which are of their Train standing almost all for the Husband, nothing remains for the Wise, but Conjugal Love accompanied with Fidelity and Constancy. I might produce great number of Reasons for it: but it is the weight and not the multitude which ought to perswade. Let us conclude this Question with an Example, which will manifest in despite of Monteigne, that there are modern as well as ancient Fidelities: and that good Wives have appeared long after the Age of either Ar•••• or Pa••l••a.

EXAMPLE.

Sanchia of Navarre.

I Am to draw in this History the Picture of two Sisters, who have not not one drop of Blood in their Veins, not one Hair on their Heads by which they resemble each other. This nevertheless is neither strange nor new: the Rose and Thorn grow upon one stalk: and one fire produceth both Light and Smoak. The representation thereof in that respect will not be lesse delightful: And by an opposition like that which is made by the Impostures of the Perspective, a Grace and a Fury, an extream Fidelity, and an extream Treachery will be seen there upon the same Ground, and almost under the same Line.

Sanchias the second, King of Navarre was slain by Ferrandus Gon∣zales

Earl of Castile in a publick and regular Duel, undertaken solemn∣ly, and in the fight of two Armies, to end their quarrel, and to spare the Blood of their People. This Disaster left so lively a resentment, and so obstinate a grief in Theracia, Daughter to the deceased King, and Wife to the King of 〈◊〉〈◊〉, that she took an oath never to admit of any Lenitive but Revenge, and the Blood of Gonzales. She sought every where this Lenitive of Blood, and this Revenge which might 〈◊〉〈◊〉 seeing no Honourable or lawful occasion which might lead her to effect it with a good Conscience, she resolved to compasse it by Treason and Surprise. The wrath indeed of a Woman is a dangerous Wrath: All that she hath of sweet is imbittered and turns into Gall when she is netled and in despite of her Natural Constitution poison 〈◊〉〈◊〉 forth of her Eyes, and the teeth of Serpents enter into her mouth. But though she be every way to be feared; yet she ought 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to be mistrusted when her fire is rakedup: when her teeth are hidden: and when her Gall and Poison are covered with a seeming sweetnesse. And we may take also in this sence the saying of holy Scripture, which advices us to avoid the fury of an irritated Dove.

These Ashes of a plaistred Reconciliation, and this feigned meek∣nesse of a Dove, had like to have ruined Gonzales. He would have pre∣served himself from an open Fire: and would have defended himself against an Eagle which should have assaulted him by Force. Theracis counterfeits her self tractable and inclined to Peace; makes an offer of Reconciliation: And to establish a solid and lasting Peace between Na∣varre and Castile, she proposes a Marriage between her Sister Sanchis and Gonzales. Surely the Bait was too tempting, and too subtilly pre∣pared, and with too much dexterity to catch nothing. Gonzales who was generous and no Enemie to Peace, gave ear to this Proposition; receives from the Queen of Leen (deputed for the solemnization of the Contract) the Promise of absent Sanchia, and returned her his. When all things were agreed, he undertakes a journey to Navarre, with no other Attendance then his own Family: Neither did he think to go to a Siege or Battel: he beheved that his Voyage was to a Treaty of Mar∣riage: and a Marriage is not treated of with Armies and Engins of War: No man espouseth a beating Drum or flying Colours.

As soon as he arrived in Navarre, King Garcius a Complice in the Treason of his Sister Theracia, received him with outrages and re∣proaches: and without giving him time to recollect himself commits him to Prison, and causeth him to be loaden with Chains more harsh and ponderous, then those which he came to seek. Sanchia advertised of so soul a Treason, to which she had contributed innocently, and with no ill intent, thought her self obliged, for the Justification of her pro∣mise, and for the Honour of her House, to assist a Prince who was taken in her Name, and by her promise. She found out a means to see him in Prison, and this sight mollified her Heart, and laid it open to Passion, which never before found any accesse unto it. Pitty which is

not bashfull and suspected by no man, entred first boldly, and without resistance: Love stole in fearfully after her, and was there received up∣on the ingagements made by Gonzales, and upon the faith which had been given him. Sanchia was already sufficiently tied by the promise delegated to the King of Navarre her brother, and to her sister the Queen of Leen: But she found her self there much faster tied by the chains of Gonzales: She renewed to him the promise she had sent him by the ministers of her brothers treachery: And having given necessary orders for his liberty, she took him out of prison, and fled away with him to Castile, where she was married to him in great pomp, and with the general applause of the people.

I confesse that there was much of boldnesse in this action; and I would not pardon it in a Maid, who had followed a wandring fire, and played the part of a 〈◊〉〈◊〉, or a Lucipps. But if we consider that Sanchia was no longer at her own dispose, nor at her brothers: that she was promi∣sed and betrothed to Gonzales: that she had given her faith out of obedience: And that she owed more to her betrothed faith, then to the treachery of her House; her boldnesse will be no reproach to her memory: And men will rather give her an honourable ranke amongst the Her••••sses, then joyn her with the wandring women of Romances. Ne∣verthelesse the King her brother did not take it in that sense. As soon as he was advertised of his prisoners and sisters flight; he presently rai∣sed a powerfull Army and fell into Castile: But he fell in under so ill a Planet, that he was defeated in the first Battell; and by the sport of Fortune, which mingles at her pleasure, chains and Crowns, and pla∣ceth them sometimes upon one Head, and sometimes upon an other; or to speak more Christianly, by a just disposure of Divine Providence, which would punish Injustice and Treachery, the King of Navarre in his turne remained prisoner to his Fugitive, and was loaden with the same Chains he had brought for him.

After some moneths of imprisonment, Gonzales moved by the per∣swasions of his Wife, set him at liberty, and sent him back with ho∣nour to his Kingdom: These benefits ought to be ranked amongst those Coals, which according to the saying of the Wiseman, give new heat to congealed Charity, and reenkindle extinguished affection: But they stirred up hatred, and inkindled a new warre which would have caused great flames and ruines, if the wise and couragious San∣chia, before one drop of blood was spilt, had not mediated between her Husband and Brother, and quenched with her tears the fire which had taken on all sides. These tears which had vertue enough to extin∣guish a warre already flaming, and to pacifie two Kingdoms in Arms, had not enough to sweeten the Animosity of a Woman. The Queen of Leen reserved her passion in all the Treaties which were held: And in all the Articles which were proposed to her, whatsoever her lips and tongue did swear, and whatsoever her hand did signe, she full sware in her mind, and signed in her heart the death of Gonzales.

The obstinate Princess not content with having laboured unprofi∣tably and at a great expence to dishonour the Name of the King her Brother, with having perverted her Faith and falsified her pro∣mise, took away also the Honour and Reputation of the King her Husband: And perswaded him to make of his Word and Faith a se∣cond snare for Gonzales. The Faith of Kings is sacred; Their Promise is holy, And it is a prophanation, and a kinde of Sacriledge to convert them into Deceits and Treasons; and to make them serve for Baits to Circumventions. This Prince nevertheless seduced by his Wife, con∣sented to the Prophanation of his Word and Faith. He convened the States of his Kingdom, and sent thither the Earl of Castile. The Earl had sight good enough to discern afar off the snare which was laid for him: but he had too good a Heart, and too confident a Soul to avoid a snare from which he knew not well how to flie, but by flying from his Duty, and turning his back to his Reputation. He stuck fast then to his Reputation and Duty; and committed his Life and Liberty to Fortune. Fortune nevertheless which is said to be favourable to bold Actions, gave him no better entertainment at Leon, then he had re∣ceived at Navarre. He found there a second Prison, and as strong and heavy chains as the former: And found no Sanchia in that place, who might break these chains and open the Prison for him. But Love which was more just then Fortune, and works far other Miracles, did not long retard the bringing thither his Deliveress: And if she had been Couragious and Faithful during the time of Contract, she shewed her self yet more Couragious and Faithful in the state of Marriage.

Assoon as she had notice of her Husbands Captivity, her first thought was to march in the head of twenty thousand men, to destroy his Pri∣son with Fire and Sword, and to bring him back to Castile through the Ruines, and Light of a flaming Province. To this first thought which arose from her Courage, another succeeded, wherein there was more of Prudence, and more of Safety for her Husband. She fixed upon that, though the danger thereof was more evident for her self: And she resolved to oppose to a foul and treacherous fraud, an innocent and purely charitable deceit. She chose amongst the most Faithful ser∣vants of the Earl her Husband, all those who had most courage and strength, and commanded them to follow her without noise, and with Arms of more effect then shew. This done, she began her journey in the habit and Marks of a Pilgrime: passeth every where for a Woman of quality, who went to perform her Vow made to S. James. And be∣ing arrived in Leon with two Knights, she so craftily and dexterously assaulted the Gates of the Prison, as at length they were opened to her, and obtained leave to see her Husband.

The apparition of an Angel invironed with fire and covered over with light, could scarce have more dazled Gonzales, then the arrival of disguised Sanchia had done. After the first Embraces, and the Tears that were mixt with them, which supplyed the place of Words, she

acquainted him in few words with the occasion of her coming: And conjured him to take the garment and liberty she had brought him, and to leave her in exchange his Chains and Apparel; nay his punishment and Death, if it were decreed he should die. This exchange being made, he went out of Prison with the Garment and Heart of Sanchia; And found the two Knights at the Gate, who brought him to the place where his servants waited for him. The next day the light disco∣vered that charitable Fraud which the night had concealed. The King of Leon on the sudden expressed an Anger, which seemed never to be allayed without effusion of Blood. But reason returning by degrees, admiration succeeded his wrath: He highly praised a deceipt so well meant, and of so great example. And having magnificently treated his Sister, he sent her back to her husband with ceremonie and pomp: and this Pomp served as a Triumph to Conjugal Love and the Fidelity of Women.

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ARTEMISE 〈…〉〈…〉

Artemisia.

THERE is nothing here but exceeds the measure of mean Spirits: Nothing but transcends the Capacity of shallow Heads. The Mausolaeum which you be∣hold, is one of the Worlds great Mira∣cles. Artemisia who caused it to be built, is another far greater Miracle, though not so vast, nor wearieth so much the sight. But both have wherewith to fill with her Renown, as well the present as future Times: Wherewith to furnish matter for new Fables; And to serve in History for a spectacle of magni∣ficence, and prodigie to all Nations and Ages.

They are no common Architects which direct this sumptu∣ous and stately structure. Love is the undertaker and hath traced out the designe: Magnificence presides in the Execu∣tion; and all the Arts gathered together work there under her Command, and by her Orders. Surely it were needful to have a very vast apprehension, and Eyes capable of great objects to contemplate at once these pendant Quarries wrought into Pillars: And to behold at one View a whole Mountain of Jasper erected into an Obelisk. Asia and Africa must be there∣by exhausted and impoverished: I do beleeve that at present there are left neither Marble in their Bosoms, nor pretious Metals in their Veins. And you there behold in Frizes, Chapters, and Ballisters, all that the sun was able to produce rich and resplendent in many Ages. Not only all the Trea∣sures of the Earth have been exhausted to serve for this Enter∣prize,

but whole Colonies of workmen have been consumed therein; And all those rich carved Pieces, whereof your eyes partake in an instant and without trouble, are the Invention and labour of the ablest heads and the most skilfull hands of Greece.

Leocarez who was the Authour and Father of the most ex∣quisite Gods, and of the most eminent Artists of these dayes, imployed all his skill in that Statue which he made of one sin∣gle Agate. It hath no other colours then what the Stone brought with it from the Quarry. And neverthelesse by a con∣currence, which exceeded the expectation of the VVorkman, Nature so well mingled them, and with so much equality and proportion, that a Picture, were it drawn by the hand of Apelles himself, could not better resemble Mausolus. Three Lamps framed of three large Rubies make a precious Fire, fed with Balm under this Figure. There is a fourth, which is compo∣sed of a more noble matter, which sends forth a cleerer and more resplendent flame, though it be invisible. It is the heart it self of Artemisia, which burns alwayes equally and with the same fire, and consumes before her Husbands Ghost still pre∣sent to her eyes.

I observe that you have a long time fixed your sight parti∣cularly upon the face of this Colossus, and upon the strange Characters it bears. The Characters are Egyptian and Sacred. The Subject is the Elogy of Mausolus, expressed in figured and mysticall termes. The mourning of his Widow, and sor∣rows of his People are not there forgotten: But all this, as you may see, is there onely in Epitome, and in a cold and livelesse stile. The most Magnificent, even the most eloquent and faithfull Epitaph of Mausolus is in the heart of Artemisia. Love and Death have grav'd it with their Pencils. There is not a word in it which hath not both life and heat, which doth not love and sigh, which doth not resent and is not resented. Is it not that which the Architect meant to expresse by this Love and Death, which he hath couched at the Foot of the Obelisk? Would you not say that these Characters were but newly in∣graven, and that they made all Passengers who shall read them

to accompany with their sighs and Tears, the Sighs of the Arts, and the Tears of the Muses; the sadnesse of the Metals, and the mourning of the Marbles?

As for those two other Loves which close up the Ballisters, they are numbred among those which have contributed their Cares and Labours to this vast Work. They hold also the Square and Compass in their Hands: And seem thereby wil∣ling to give Testimonie against the Errours of the ignorant, who perswade themselves that Love can act nothing which is not tumultuous and irregular; And that there is nothing but confusion and disorder in all its productions. Love neverthe∣less (whatsoever these ignorant persons may say of it) is the superintent of Harmonies and Accords; and the first inventer of Squares and Measures: And I do not doubt, but if some one of those people came hither, he would presently avow that Love is more regular and better proportioned in this vast building, then Philosophie ever was in the Tub of the Cynick. Surely also it is wonderful to behold, such regular Enormities, and such adjusted proportions amidst so great excesse. But nothing yet there appears save the first draughts of this pro∣portion and evennesse: And one must expect the last form of the whole Bodie to judge of the correspondencie between these enormous and monstruous parts, which are the Temerities of Art, the Exaggerations of Marble and Jasper; And if I may say so, the Hyperboles and Amplifications of Architecture.

We are not the only persons in whom so sumptuous and magnificent a mourning begets astonishment. Those that you see at the Foot of the steps, though they belong to the Court of Artemisia, and are accustomed to the Majestie of her De∣signe, and have their Mindes and Eyes as full of it as ours. Some expresse their astonishment by their Gesture, and seem to say that this Monument will one day draw all Europe to Asia, and be an Heroick Temple, where Magnificence and mourn∣ing, Love and Death, Artemisia and Mausolus will be ho∣noured together, and receive from Posterity an equal worship, and like Oblations. The rest further advanced observe her action, and accompany it with their respect and silence.

The affliction of her Minde seems to have passed even into her Garment, which is black and without ornament. Her sad∣nesse nevertheless is Majestical and becoming: And upon her face, still pale by the Death of her Husband, there appears a kinde of pleasing languishment, which demands compassi∣on and would beget Love, if it were in a subject either lesse elevated, or lesse austere. Two Turtle Doves which she her self newly sacrificed to the Spirit of Mausolus burn before her, with her Hair upon an Altar of Porphirie: And mean while the fire which seized on her Heart by degrees consumes the tyes of her Soul, and prepares it to go joyn it self with the other Heart which expects it. The ashes of Mausolus, which she hitherto so charily preserved, are moistned with her Tears in the Cup you see in her hand. She takes it up to drink them: And her moist and sparkling Eyes which partake something of the Sun and Rain seem to say to those that understand them, that she nevertook any thing more sweet and pleasing to her tast: That the richest works of Art and Nature could not worthily enough conserve so pretious a Pledge: That these dear Ashes are due unto the fire of her Heart, and that nothing but Arte∣misia alone could make a fit sepulchre for Mausolus.

SONNET.

ARTEMISIA speaks.

BEhold this Sepulchers proud structure, where Glory and Grief do equally appear: Where Asia (rais'd into one Monument) Tyr'd all the Arts, and Natures skill outwent.

Love with his shafts hath wrought the Sculpture fair, Love did the Cyment with his Fires prepare, And makes, in spite of Death, my Lover have An endless life in this stupendious Grave.

But tell me Love, what Glory do I gain By these my sumptuous Labours, if I daign Marbles to be the Rivals of my Fame, And share with them my Souls resplendent Flame?

Now if the gentle Shade, with wandring Feet, Among the Dead do stray, it will be meet That of its Flame my Soul the Fuel be, And that his Ashes live intomb'd in Me.

ELOGIE OF ARTEMISIA.

IT is nothing strange that Artemisia speaks in this Picture: She hath lived above three thousand yeers in the Memo∣rie of Man. Her Fortune and Dignity nevertheless hath not preserved it for her. Whatsoever hath been said of Gold, it doth not exempt those from corruption who wear it in their Crowns: and the Names of Kings and Queens ought not to be more priviledged then their Persons, which die upon Thrones. Vertue hath made Artemisia live to this day, and would have her remain to her Sex, an everlasting Example of a peaceable Magnanimity; and of a Widowhood Couragious without Despair, and afflicted without Dejection. The one Moity of her dyed with Mausolus, and she burned with him that part of her Heart in which Joy resided: But she reserved the other in which was Fortitude and Courage. And if since the fatal Moment which had thus divided her, she was never seen to delight in any thing, yet no man ever observed the the least weaknesse in her. Her modest and strict mourning, and her well becoming and Majestical reservednesse suted with a perfect Wi∣dow: But her bold and Couragious activity in War her dexterous and free Conduct in managing affairs; and her constancie in re∣jecting all sorts of second affections, was like a Woman, who acted still with the Heart and Spirit of her Husband, and who had even espoused his shadow. But not being content to have preserved his Courage in her action, and his image in her Memory, she must needs have also his Ashes upon her Heart; And erected his Name and Tomb into a Mira∣cle, by a structure in which all the Arts wearied themselves, and Na∣ture her self was almost exhausted.

MORAL REFLECTION.

ARTEMISIA though a Heathen and a Barbarian is to young Widows a Governesse full of Authority and of great Example. She teacheth them that the most invincible and strongest Widow∣hood is not that which sends forth the loudest cryes, and which seeks to express it self by Poisons and Precipices: That it is Modesty and Fidelity which make chast Matrons, and not Hairs pulld up by the root, and torn Cheeks, That a sober and lasting Mourning is more decent and exemplar, then an unequal affliction which tears it self to day and paints it self to morrow, which is furious on the day of a Husbands Buriall; and will endure no Discourse but of Poison and Ropes, and two Dayes after will have their Haire curled, their faces painted and spotted. And that a Heathen woman having in one Monument placed all the wealth of a whole Kingdom, to raise unto the Name of her Husband an imaginary and fantasticall Eternity. It is a very great shame that Christian women should not distribute even for the salvation of their Husbands, and the Comfort of their own Souls the Remainder of what they spend upon Play, Vanity, and Excess. And because this Truth is important and of great use, I conceived, that it would be very beneficial to give it a more solid foun∣dation, and to make a Discourse of it apart, where it shall have all the proofs and all the light whereof it is capable.

MORAL QUESTION.

In what manner a Gallant Woman should mourn, and what ought to be the duties of her Widowhood.

THose Women are very ill instructed in the Morality of their Sex, who reduce into Shagrin and sadnesse all the Duties and Vertues of a prudent Widow. A serious and constant Love doth not wholly pour it self forth into tears; And all the decency of exemplar Fidelity consists not in a black cypress Veil or Gown: It is not expres∣sed by shadowed lights, and weeping Tapers; And it is not discovered by studied looks, and by fourty hours of artificiall darkness. Philoso∣phy, I say even Christian philosophy, forbids not tears in like occasi∣ons, It is impossible that blood should not flow from hearts which are divided, and from souls which are severed by force. And since man, as the Scripture tells us, is the head of the woman, the wonder would be no lesse, if a Wise should lose her Husband without weeping, then if a body should not bleed when the head is cut off: But she ought not also to perswade her self that her wound must run everlastingly; And

that it concerns her honour to have alwayes tears in her eyes, and com∣plaints in her mouth. Sadness, Mourning, Solitude, relate indeed to her duty, but make not the most important, and indispensable part thereof: And yet by a publique Errour, which time and custome have authorized, this lesse important part is superstitiously observed. Wo∣men are not content with a regular and discreet sadness, they put on an extravagant and fantasticall kind of sorrow; And Opinion begin∣ning where Nature ends, they sigh for fashions sake, and weep artifi∣cially, after the true mourning hath consumed the reall sighes, and when tears in good earnest are exhausted.

A Prudent and Couragious Widow will give no way to fancy, or opinion, and will submit all that she can reasonably and with decency, to lawfull Customes, and to instructed and cultivated Nature. But ha∣ving once satisfied these duties of tendernesse which proceed more from the superficies then the bottome of the heart, she will reserve her self for more solid and serious duties of greater force and use, wherein her affection and fidelity may act more profitably, and be produced with more honour and reputation. The weak widows who raise up a hea∣vie and slothfull sadness to a degree of Vertue; and the wilfull who glo∣ry in an incurable grief, will oppose to these duties the example of the widow Palme, I mean of that Palme from which the Male is taken away: She is never cured, as they say, of her driness, which is her affli∣ction; and what care soever is taken to reestablish her, she dies at length languishing, and of I know not what secret disease, which resembles our Melancholy.

However it fares with the widowhood of the Palme, which is but a Metaphoricall and figurative widowhood, as her love is but symboli∣call and allegoricall: If it be lawfull to make comparisons, and ren∣der figure for figure, I will say that a prudent widow ought to leave unto weak souls examples of weakness, which resides in the lowest story of souls; and to seek out in the Region of light and pure spirits, patterns of a generous mourning, and of an active and well governed affliction: She will performe during a widowhood of many yeers, what the Moon doth during a widowhood of few hours: An obscurity is seen upon the face of the Eclipsed Moon; And this obscurity is, to speak proper∣ly, but the sadness and mourning of her widowhood, occasioned by the interposition of the Earth between her and the Sunne. But this sad∣ness which deprives her of colour, takes not away her force. It makes her not descend from her Elevation, nor diverts her course: Though she appears black to us, yet she forbears not to keep her Station, and to move regularly and in order: And her mourning doth not hinder her from following the conduct of her Intelligence. The affliction of the sage Widow ought to be just and regular, like that of the Moon. Her mourning ought not to deject her heart, nor discompose her carriage. It ought not to obscure the light of her soul, nor retard the activity she owes either her House, or the Republique, to which she is after the death of her Husband, what the Moon is to the World in the absence of the

Sunne. Her affliction is not exempted from these duties, and her Sex gives her no dispensation for them. The Widow and afflicted Turtle doth not abandon the care of her neast, and the feeding of her little ones. And the Mother Eagle when the Male is taken from her doth not forbear to prey and make warre upon Serpents. There are exam∣ples enough of this Active and Couragious Widowhood, of this reaso∣nable and well ordered sorrow, of this discreet and magnanimous mour∣ning. This which I am going about to propose, is Illustrious and full of Reputation: and the sight of it ought to be so much the more de∣lightfull, in respect a Copy of it is now drawn, which posterity will esteem no lesse then its Originall.

EXAMPLE.

Blanch of Castile, Queen Regent of France.

SPain boasts to have produced Artemisias as well as antient Lidea; And she boasts not of them without reason. The chiefest point is, that she hath produced them as Quarries of stone produce fair Statues. Their matter was indeed of Spain, but the lineaments and beau∣ty of their Figure they owe to France. Blanch the Mother of St Lewis was one of these Artemisia's born in Spain, and formed in France. Her Race was one of the most Illustrious and Remarkable in that Countrey. The Mines of Gold, and the Veins which bear the most Precious stones, were not so rich nor famous. And we may say that her Heroick life, and great actions were to the greatness of her birth, what a rare Figure is to rare Matter.

She was the most respected and renowned of four Crowned Widows, who in their time were the honour of their Condition, Sex, and Age. The first was Margarite of France, sister to Philip the August, who had the Courage to undertake a Warre against Infidels, and to go seek out in the Holy-Land, honourable and renowned Dangers and Crowns, Blessed by God and Men. No lesse Courage was requisite for Queen Blanch, to consent to the Expedition of her Son Lewis against the Turk, and his enterprizes beyond the Seas, then was necessary for Margarite to begin a holy Warre, and to ingage her self by an expresse Vow, in dan∣gers of the Sea and Warre. And whatsoever the most Malignant inter∣preters of the best actions may say of it, who avouch in despite of Hi∣story, that Blanch perswaded St. Lewis to take a Journey into Syria, that she might Reigne a second time, by a second Regency. It is certain that this Crosiad, or holy Warre, was the heaviest cross of her life, the pu∣nishment of her heart, and the torment of her soul; the death of her pleasures and joys: And the Couragious Queen since the very moment her Son left her, did nothing but suffer in minde, and fight in imaginati∣on. Nothing but dangers, and objects of fear were presented before

her Eyes; And in the Lo••••er it self she was continually tossed by Tempests, and thought her self in danger of suffering shipwrack with her Son; every day she was a Prisoner, and sick with him, and every night she died by the Hand of some Arsacide or Saraz••n whom her ap∣prehensions and dreams represented to her: The second illustrious Widow of her time, was Hed••••ga Dutchess of Silecia. The Church, to which appertains the Crowning of Vertues, rendred Honour to her long and difficult Repose, to her painful and laborious Solitude: And judged her worthy to be Canonized, after a Widowhood of thirty years spent in a Monastery. The Vertue of Blanch had need of no lesse Cons••ancie at Court. Her Widowhood was no lesse laborious, her Devotion no lesse servent, nor less exercised or profitable in that place, and she required no lesse Courage against the pleasures of the Palace and the Pride of Authority, then was necessary for 〈◊〉〈◊〉 amidst the Aus••ctities and Humiliations of a Religious Life. Elizabeth of Hun∣gary was the third Widow, who honoured this Age, so fruitful in So∣veraign Examples, and Crowned Vertues. Her Charity and Works of Mercie retain still a good odour in the Church, and edifie the faith∣ful. It is reported that the Emperor Frederick the second, who was present at the opening of her Tomb, made an offering to her of three Crowns of Gold: And by this Ceremonie crowned in one single Per∣son, a holy Virgin, a holy Wife, and a holy Widow. The Charity of Queen Blanch was practised in a higher degree then that of Elizabeth. Her works of Mercie were more universal, more necessary, of greater use and better Example. The poor were not only entertained and the sick comforted by her good deeds; but Nations were conserved there∣by, and Provinces setled in Peace, Wars extinguished, Troubles paci∣fied, good Lawes established, publick abuses reformed, Heresies either humbled or abolished, and a whole kingdom preserved in peace, and quietly governed, and with Justice. These Royal Charities and Mer∣cies of State, are of a quite other Rank then the particular ones which are practised in Hospitals. And the Crown of a Holy Queen which Blanch hath merited thereby, may equal those of a holy Wife, of a holy Widow, and of a holy Nun, which the purchased by her other Vertues.

But I look upon her here as a Widow: and without doing injury to the memory of three others, who were not set forth with so much ad∣vantage, and who left lesse light behinde them; We may well place her upon the Stage, and propose her for the pattern of a modest and constant, active and victorious Widow. Her heart by the Death of the King her Husband suffered all that a Heart violently t••rn from another, and divided between Grief and Love, could endure. But Reason and Piety prevailed over Grief and Love; and so well ioyned the pieces of this Heart, that a scarre onely remained without weaknesse or under∣cencie.

After this secret and domestick Combat sought against two predo∣minant

passions, and authorized by Nature; she began by the Cares and Duties of a Mother, which was to her more intimate, and of a longer standing then a Regent: and applyed her first thoughts to the education of her Son. Having a designe to make him a Holy, Wise, and Victorious King, she placed about him able Religious men, and of good 〈◊〉〈◊〉, who seasoned in him the first principles of Piety; Men of busi∣nesse and experience who read him lessons of State-affairs, and taught him Policie sutable to the time and practise; Captains and Knights of Reputation, who instructed him in the Science of War, and rendred him one of the most Gallant men at Arms in the whole Kingdom. Passing from thence to the Functions of her Regencie, she began with setling Religion, which ought to be the principle Pillar of a State. And because she was not ignorant that the least Divisions in this Pillar might procure the general destruction of the whole building; and that Conspiracies and Revolts are the ordinary Attendants of Schisms and Heresies, she vigorously endeavoured the reduction of the Albi∣genses. Her pains therein found so happy success, as she dissipated the Remnants of this unhappy Sect: And Raymond Earl of Tholouse forced by her Arms, submitted to the Authority of the Church; expiated the Apostacie of his House, and the Rebellion of his Progenitors, made publick satisfaction, and in his shirt, to that Religion which he had so often violated.

These happy successes of a most happy Regency did not hinder the Commotions of some disgusted Princes from shaking the vessel, and indangering it in the midst of a Calm. They did not hate the Princess who governed, she was too amiable, and ruled with too much Pru∣dence and Grace: But it vexed them to see the Stern in her hands; and they were willing to take it from her, with a purpose to break it, and to divide it amongst themselves. Noise and Tumult did not astonish the Regent not put her in disorder: she dexterously managed the most tractable, and brought them back by little and little to their duty, she shewed her Sword lifted up to the most perverse and untractable per∣sons. And by her Prudence, no lesse then by her Courage, their raised Troops, and plotted Enterprises were reduced to Deputies, and a Con∣ference. Force having proved so unsuccessful to them, they resolved to practise Treason, and undertook to carry away the King as he was going to the appointed Assembly at Vandome. But it is a dangerous thing to undertake to steal away a young Eagle from under the Wings of his Mother, and to carry away by force a young Whelp from a Lionesse. Blanch being advertised of their Conspiracie saved the King in the Castle of Mount-le-Hery: and from thence brought him back to Paris with a strong Convoy, and even the sight of the Conspirators, to whom there remained only shame and despite, which are the first punishments of discovered Treasons.

After these appeased Troubles the Duke of Brittany on the one side, and the Earl of Champain on the other, raised with new Charges a new

party. Blanch went out the first in the most rigid season of the Year. The heat of her Courage was so great in this War, and her March so speedy and vigorous, that not being to be stayed either by 〈◊〉〈◊〉 which stopped the most rapid Rivers, nor by the Heavens which poured down Snow, she returned in few Moneths victorious over Winter, Na∣ture, and Rebellion. The Earl of Champain was defeated with less Noise, and with gentler Arms. The King being already set forth to chastise him, the Regent got before him, and went to try whether perswasi∣ons might prevail without Force. But he yielded neither to perswasi∣ons nor Force. They were the Graces which vanquished him; The face of Blanch left nothing to be acted by Reason or Arms, It gained the Victory without Combat; It concluded the Treaty without con∣testation or Articles. And the Earl who was come forth a Rebel to the Son, returned back a Slave to the Mother, and a sworn Servant to them both.

All the whole Regency of Blanch was thus powerful. And in the Field as well as in the Closet, in Military no lesse then Civil Enter∣prizes, she shewed that her Heart and Head were equally capable of the two parts of Regality: That her Hands were as fit for the Scepter as for the Sword; and that she knew how to govern as efficaciously, as handsomly to overcome. This so lively and beneficial light did not escape the being assaulted with very soul slanders, which fell upon that which ought to be most respected and inviolable in a Woman. But the vapours which arise from the Earth do not darken the Sun, nor hinder it from doing good to the World; and these Obloquies took not away one single Ray from the Vertue of Blanch, nor hindred her from shining and finishing her Course peaceably and with Honour. In fine, to equal also in austerity and submission, such as she had excelled by action and in the Government of affairs, she imbraced like them the profession of a regular life. Thereby the acquired out of the World the Regality of the poor and humble, the Soveraignty of Spirit and interiour Unction. She finished what was wanting to a Queen by adding to that Dignity the Title of Religious. And the Veil which she took was to her a second Crown, which gave a second Lustre and set a new value upon the first.

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MONIME. Femme de Mithridate, se deliure de la tyrannie de la Fortune▪ et 〈…〉〈…〉

Monima.

YOU have heard of the Rout of Mi∣thridates, and of the last part his treacherous Fortune plaid him. This extravagant, after many phantastical prancks, and dayly disorders at last entertained new Loves, leaving him, to bequeath her self to the Romans. She carryed away ather going off, all the favours she had given him: she resumed all her Crowns and Scepters: And of so many Marks of Love, of so many stately Pledges, and glorious Ensignes, she left him onely an impoisoned Ring, to the end his Despair might possesse at least something that was rich; and that a Dia∣mond might procure him a more honourable and glorious Death, then a halter could do.

This pernicious Example spread it self thorowout all Asia; and the Infidelity of Fortune was followed with the Revolt of the People. But that which will move Pittie even in Trea∣cherous Asia, and would do the like in Fortune if she had any sensible part; that which will be lamented by deserting and Rebellious People, is that Mithridates as jealous of his Wife, as despairing of his Affairs, resolved to depart out of the World, to remain no longer in the power of Fortune; and to take a Course that his Wife might first go out of it, not to leave her behinde in the Hands of his Enemies. This Barba∣rous Resolution accompanied with a far more Barbarous Command hapned to be brought to the Queen, by an Eunuch

of her Chamber. The Message was delivered solemly and with Ceremonie, with mournful looks, and a Pomp which re∣sembled some great Funeral. Monima on the contrary received it with her Festival Countenance, and a Face full of Joy. She likewise adorned her self, and put on all her Jewels to per∣form it with the greatest shew and Lustre. As if she had taken this Message for a Defiance of Fortune and Mithridates, she resolved to brave them both, and inform the World, that she had rather be with Death, then alive with Jealous Mithridates, or deceitful Fortune.

Being informed that her Husband carried in an easie and woundlesse Death an impoisoned Ring; she believed that her Diadem might well be as compassionate to her, and render her the like office. And that after the having deprived her of Liberty it might deprive her also of Life. But the Diadem as you see is broken in her hands: You will peradventure be∣lieve that Majestie opposeth it self thereunto, and that it con∣cerned his Honour not to suffer an Ensigne of Dignity, and a Sacred, and Regal Ornament to become an Instrument of Despair, and a Fatal Core. You will perchance believe that the Graces are come to the Aid of an Innocent and ill treated Grace▪ and have hindred the Pearls which are particularly de∣dicated to them from being prophaned by her Death, who is the Glory of their Sex, and the Pearl of Asia. Others will believe, and peradvanture with more probability, that the Di∣adem had much of the malice and Spirit of Fortune which wrought it; And that it being made to deprive Monima of Li∣berty, it ought rather to break then to bestow it on her. How∣ever it were, the Wise and Couragious Queen looks upon the pieces of it with a Countenance where there is lesse of Despair then Contempt, and more of a Philosopher then a Woman. This haughty and becoming Action, mixed with fiercenesse and modesty, hath something I know not what which explains it self more efficaciously then Clamours and Reproaches: And a furious Woman, who should exclaim with open mouth against Fortune, could not do her more Despite, nor so highly reproach her Impotencie.

Surely also the Woman that you see is not a painted Idol, a dainty and voluptuous Barbarian, and Asian fit onely for the Bed and Table. She is a Couragious and knowing Beauty, a severe and Stoical Beauty; A Beauty which lead Philosophie into a Seraglio; which reformed the Riot and Delights of a debauched Court, which preserved amongst the Women and Eunuchs of Asia, the Constancie and Austeritie of the Sages of Greece: Notwithstanding all this, she is commanded to die: In vain do the Vertues and Graces intercede for her; In vain do they appeal from her Husbands barbarous Will; They will not procure it to be cancelled whatsoever they alledg to the contrary: And you see already the poor Queen laid on her Bed, and ready to re∣ceive the stroke which was to execute it.

But consider here on the one side the trouble of a brutish and discomposed Soul: And on the other side the calme and serenity of a wise and well instructed Spirit. The Eunuch is affrighted with the cruel Obedience which he is going to ren∣der unto his Master. Of his two hands the guilty one which was to give this unhappy Blow, proves weak and feeble, scarce able to bear up the Sword. The other, more innocent is lifted up as if it stood upon its Guard either against some Fantome which threatned it, or against the Lightning which issues forth of Monima's Eyes, and which fills the Chamber with a sudden and new Light. It would be hard to judge whether it be out of Fear or Respect, that he turns away his Head; whether he be affrighted with the Jealousie of his Master, or dazled with the Majestie of his Mistresse; whether he apprehends the being unfaithfull to the one, or impious and Sacrilegious to the other. Monima nevertheless con∣firms him, and presents to him her naked Throat. To be∣hold the Serenitie of her Countenance, and the sweetnesse of her Eyes, you would take her for a Captive, who flatters her Deliverer, and intreats him speedily to break her Chains. Hence it appears who would be most terrified with the Prick of a Thorn, and who would be lesse bold in gather∣ing a Rose.

You are astonished to see so much resolution joyned with so many Graces, and so much Constancie in a Countrey of Riot, and in an Asian Court. Surely also the Graces are sel∣dom accompanied with Resolution. Constancie is not the Companion of Riot: And the Vertue of Monima is not borne upon this Stately and Sumptuous Bed where you be∣hold her. The Jewels which load as much as they adorn her, neither setled her Minde, nor fortified her Courage. Philo∣sophie hath educated and trained her up with her own Hands; and good Books have formed her. They have been her In∣structors in her Fathers House: They are her Councellors and Confidents at Court: She hath given them all the Hours which others bestowe on their Looking Glasses and Flatterers: She hath drawn from them that Constancie and Vigour of Spirit, which you behold in her; And even at present she caused them to assemble upon this Table, to be supported by them in this Combat; and to overcome Fortune and Death by their Assistance and in their Sight.

But what Disposition soever she had to die Couragiously and like a Conqueresse; her Despairing VVomen cry out against her Courage, and oppose her Victory. The boldest amongst them put back the Eunuch with her Hand and Voice: She gives him injurious Language, and yet tenders supplications to him. Anger and Pittie speak both at one by her Mouth; and you would say, that either willingly or by force she will obtain from him the Death he prepares for her Mistresse. The rest melt into Tears, and tear their Hair; as if of their torne Hair Ropes were to be made to tye the Hands of Death: And as if by their Tears shed in streams they were able to Ransome their Mistresse; They would like∣wise Redeem her with their Blood, if Death would be paid with the Exchange: And if they could either deceive or satis∣fie the Jealousie of Mithridates.

They alone were not afflicted at the deplorable end of their Fair and Wise Mistresse. The Vertues and Graces which alwayes attended her, are yet more afflicted at it then they. VVe might behold from hence these Fair afflicted Women,

and become Spectators of the Modestie of their Sadnesse, and the Comlinesse of their Tears, if our Eyes were purer, and more accustomed to Spiritual Visions. Fortune her self, who hath composed all this Tragick Scene, cannot look upon her without some kinde of Regret; and I do not doubt but she would make another Catastrophe, and conclude it by a more happy issue, if she could make a Reconciliation with Vertue, and be cured of the Jealousie which he hath of her.

SONNET.

MOnima here dyes; her Jealous King requires Her presence with him in Hels dark Retires: Love tears his wings, enrag'd at that Decree, And Nature curses such Barbaritie.

By her stand sighing the Dischevel'd Graces, Affrightment pales her waiting Damsels Faces: Fortune her own revolt can hardly brook, She crosses and admires her with one look.

Behold the noble Pride that doth possess This Gallant Heart, a Conquerour no less Of charming Objects, then of ills that have The most of Terrour, and doth Fate out-brave.

The Diadem which Fortune had design'd Wherewith ••enslave this Heart, which nought can binde, Is, by it, turnd' into a Cord, to free It self from Fortunes loath'd Captivity.

ELOGIE OF MONIMA.

MONIMA in a private condition was born a Princesse; and before her bad Fortune had placed a Diademe on her Head, she was crowned by Nature. The title and power of her Regality were seated in her Mind, and on her Face. But it was a Regality without fears and jealousies▪ A Regality free from conspiracies and revolts. Though unarmed and tender by her Sex and Complexion; she was yet more immoveable then the walls of Mileta besieged by Mithridates, more Couragious then his Troups which beleaguered it: and after the Fortune of her Countrey was o∣vercome, she vanquished the Victorious. Mileta was taken by force; Monima could not be so, either by force or composition; And amidst the ruines of a pillaged City, she remained alone ungarded, and yet impregnable. Mithrid••tes, who could not think himself Victorious, if he did not possess her, caused her to be assaulted by fifteen thousand Crowns: The like Battery would have defeated four Legions, and made a breach into three of the strongest Cittadels in Asia: Monima was not so much as shaken by them; This generous obstinacie com∣pleated the conquest over the Assaulter, and perswaded him, that his Crown was not too large for so great a heart, nor too resplendant for so beautifull a Head. He gives over unlawfull pursuits, and sought Mo∣nima in the way of Marriage, she consented thereunto through the am∣bition of her Kindred; And rather to repair the ruines of her Coun∣trey, then to ascend to his Throne. She likewise found there nothing but guilded Nails, and persumed chains, which proved to her a glorious punishment, and a magnificent Bondage.

Some time after, Mithridates overcome by the Romans, and resolved for death, caused his last will to be carried to her, by which he ordai∣ned her to go and wait for him in the other World, with assurance that he would presently follow her. This generous Woman accepted this barbarous Testament, with lesse Emotion then she had consented to the contract of her Marriage. And without going farther to seek means to execute it, that she might brave Fortune, who had changed her Palace into a Prison, and her Throne into a Wheel, she resolved to make a cord for her self of her own Diadem. That Regall Ornament which was made to torment the minde, and not to kill the body, being broken between her hands, she tendred her throat to the Eunuchs sword who brought her this news: And her soul went forth Victorious over Fortune, Death, and Mithridates himself, who had done her more mis∣chief then either Death, or Fortune.

MORAL REFLECTION.

LEarn of this Woman to discern evils under the painting, and tho∣row the masks wherewith they are disguised. Take heed of wish∣ing to your self high and splendid Miseries: Beware of running af∣ter celebrious and remarkable punishments. We are not scorched but by that which glisters: We fall onely from high places: And Fortune raises onely those upon the Stage whom she hath a minde to torment: You esteem any life wearisome in a private condition, and all dayes seem rainy to you, and all hours clowdy in an obscure and ignoble Fa∣mily. Monima would have rather desired to wax old amongst the Lilies and Roses in her Fathers little Garden, then to expose her self to a thousand thorns, and perchance to as many blemishes in the Palace of Mithridates. This Palace was to her a gallant Prison, and her Sove∣raignty a specious Yoak. She was inchain'd with her own Diadem, and tormented upon her Throne: And the matter of her glory was the matter of her servitude, and the instrument of her punishment Her bloud retains still a voice and spirit in this Picture; And if you hearken to her Ghost, it will tell you, that your Liberty though obscure and in∣commodious, is of more value then the lustre and riches of her Chain; that it would be better for you to be your own Mistress in a Cottage, then to be a slave under a Cloth of State: And that a Turtle is more happy in the Desert, then an Eagle in a guilded Cage.

Learn then from the unfortunate Dignity of Monima, that the hap∣piness of Women consists not in those remarkable Pieces, and specious Colours, whereof Fortune composeth great Ladies. It is made up of the tranquillity of the Minde; Of the satisfaction of the Heart, and the repose of Conscience: And the priviledge of sitting in presence of a Queen, contributes nothing to the tranquillity of the Minde, Nor pla∣ceth the soul in a better seat. Crowned Coats of Arms, and the Title of a Palace written in golden Letters upon the gate of a House, are not Defences against Adversity, Discords, and the exterminating Angels Canopies of State, and Balisters are not respected by spight and jealou∣sie, nor by unquiet Nights, and perplexing Dreams. There is nothing that prohibits evil passions, and detractions, to follow Coaches which have right to enter the Louvre: And commonly the thornes of the Heart spring from the Jewels on the Head; The wounds and ulcers of the Conscience proceed from the trickings and ornaments of the face. In fine, if the Vertues and Graces be for you, do not envie others their good Fortune: And remember, that flowers are more fair and continue longer fresh in Valleys then on Mountains. There is another Conside¦ration to be had upon this History, and because it is curious and pra∣cticall▪ The ensuing Question will teach us the speculation and use thereof.

MORAL QUESTION.

Whether it appertains to the dutie of a gallant Woman to expose her Life to satisfie the minde of a Jealous Husband.

IT would be very Inhumane to go about to lay more weight upon the yoak of married Women. It lieth heavy enough already upon their necks and hearts: And if the most Couragious amongst them had not their comforts, they would scarce be able to bear it one hour. It is enough that they have been condemned to obedience and subie∣ction, without being still subject to Jealousie: And that an imaginary and barbarous duty, which nature avows not, and which is neither ac∣cording to the universall, nor written Law, should oblige them to sa∣crifice themselves, as often as it shall please this fantasticall fury. Truly not to speak of other burthens; The condition of Mothers would be harder and more deplorable then was heretofore the con∣dition of Children, who were immolated to fiery and sanguinary Idols. And if they owe their bloud and life to the cure of their jealous Hus∣bands, there is scarce any so happily married, or so discreet, that three or four times a week, ought not to prepare her self, either for a knife, rope, poison, or precipice.

Extream and expensive Remedies are not for daily Maladies; and there is no Malady so popular and common to weak Spirits as Jealousie: nor is there any infirmity which doth so easily, and at random seiz up∣on unsetled brains. There needs but a piece of Ribbon, or a Nosegay, but a word, which signifieth Nothing, but a sigh vented by chance to make a man jealous: And being once so made, he hath visions and ra∣ving sits, which exceed the whimsies of frantick people. His minde and thoughts will quarrell with all the Figures in a piece of Tapistry, and will take them for Rivals, that debauch the eyes of his Wife, and court her in silence. If she presents her self before her looking-glasse, he will accuse her very Image of bringing her some message of assigna∣tion: And in case she commend but an ancient marble Statue, or look but fixedly on a Picture, it will hinder his sleep. He will even mistrust the prayer Books he shall see in her hands; And when she shall say her Hours, he will beleeve that she reads Love-letters: There will be no Domestique upon whom he will not ground some suspition: And the most faithfull, will in his conceit, be taken either for disguised Gallants, or confidents maintained at his expence.

Would it be just to oblige Women to the Warranty of all these ex∣travagancies? And would it not be extreamly cruell, to demand their bloud, to make a Remedy for so fantasticall a Disease? There is then no written Law, nor any Tradition which ordains them to die for their jealous Husbands: But excepting life and conscience, they can have

nothing so intimate to their Souls, nothing so fixed to their Hearts, which they ought not to tear from both; be it to prevent Jealousie which might grow, or to cure that which may be already grown.

This they owe first to their Conscience; and to the Evangelical Precept, which ordains them to cut off their Hands and Feet, if they be feet of Offence, and hands of Scandal. I say not that they should cut them off with Saw or Rasor: but by an unbloody and moral in∣cision, whereby, without tearing one single Nail, without taking from them one Hair, they deprive them of all the functions, which may occasion a fall. It imports not that these functions be innocent of their own Nature; and that besides there be no evil intervening in∣tention to spoil them. Persumes are excellent things; yet Women to whom Persumes are offensive, would not excuse their Husbands indi∣scretion, should they take pleasure to torment them with Essences and Spanish Gloves. Let them use as much Justice in the Subject now in question, and let them not conceive themselves innocent before God, when they obstinately persist in torturing their Husbands with Conversations and Customs, which though indifferent and without bad designe, cease not to beget strange convulsions of Minde; and to cause sometimes their Brains even to turn in their Heads.

Secondly it concerns the purity of their Reputation, that they gene∣rously rid themselves of all the habits, which make way for suspitions, and may leave any shadow of Jealousie. It is a strange Domestick; It is impossible that it should remain long in a House without causing a great noise and fume. Now this noise bears a part in all Tatlings and detractions: And the same fume which makes the Husbands Head turn round, and fills his mouth with bitternesse, slains also the reputation of the Wife. If she be not esteemed unfaithful, she will at least be ac∣counted disobedient: And though of these two blemishes the second be lesse sordid, and savoureth not so ill as the first; yet it is still a ble∣mish which sullies; and when Reputation comes to be once sullied on the one side, no great scruple is made to stain it on the other.

But though Women had no Conscience nor Reputation to preserve; yet the very interest of their quiet should be alone prevalent enough to withdraw them from Gossipping. Certainly those small delights where∣with they amuse themselves, cost them strange anguishes of Minde; and are followed with very tart reproaches. They bring not a Flower from any suspected Walking-place which becomes not at home a Thorn in their Heart and Head, and very often tormenting Devils approach them in Angelical shapes; They finde a Domestick Hell under an im∣broidered Heaven. This implies not that Jealousie doth every where perpetrate murders, and that it alwayes imployes poison, Sword, and halter, yet is there no place where it doth not bite and scratch. It is never without Teeth and Nails; and its Teeth, which cause nothing but pain, are more to be scared then Ropes and Swords, which might give Re∣pose in taking away Life.

A Gallant Woman will not insist upon these three Reasons where Interest is more prevalent then Honour: She will passe to the fourth, where Glory is most pure and Vertue is disinterested. What others will do through terrour of Conscience, or to preserve their quiet and good repute: she will do the same upon the sole account of her Hus∣bands affection, and out of a Complacencie purely conjugal. There is yet more; and this is the last degree, to which without doubt Women will never ascend in Troops. Her Love being Heroick, and her Complacencie vigorous and Couragious: not only to cure her ap∣prehensive Husband, and to remove all the Thorns from his Heart, and all cares out of his Head; She will rid her self of objects, even of the shadow of objects which might nourish these Cares and Thorns. She will even destroy her own Beauty, if he do but suspect it: she will ex∣tinguish her Graces, if he mistrust them of holding any intelligence with a Forreign Love: she will dye couragiously, provided she may die innocent, and without staining his hands with her Blood.

Although I have said that Women will not ascend in Troops to this high degree: yet some there are, who have arrived to this Pitch, and gone thither more innocently and couragiously, then Monima, she whom I shall immediately produce will finde few equals. She cannot be placed in too great a light, nor upon too fair a Stage. She cannot have too noble Spectators: and History will never give her so many applauses and Crowns as she deserves.

EXAMPLE.

The Brave Hungarian.

THe Wound which Hungary received at the taking of Seget was great and dangerous: And if God had not reached out his hand, and upheld that Kingdom; it was ready to perish by this wound. The siege was famous by the presence of Solymon the second, who be∣gan this last Expedition with five hundred thousand men, and left the finishing of it to his Reputation and Fortune, dying a few dayes before the taking of the place, and almost in the sight of Victory. It was not the Earl of Serins fault, who defended the Town, that Soly∣mons Fortune and Reputation died not there with his Person; and that Victory did not abandon him in this Action, and remain to the Christi∣ans▪ The Ladies of Seget did what service they could with their Jewels and Pearls which were converted into Money for the pay of the Garri∣son: they served also there with their persons. And by a Zeal much bolder then that of the Carthaginians, who gave their hair to make Ropes for Engins of War, they employed their Arms to the repairing of the Walls, and exposed their Heads to the defence of the breaches and Gates.

At the last assault given by the Turks, the Earl of Serin perceiving that the hour of perishing was at hand, resolved to dye most magnifi∣cently and in Pomp; and to give Lustre and Reputation to his Death. He ••ought in an Imbroidered Sute, and with a string of Diamonds tyed about his Hat, having the keyes of the Town fastned to his Scarse, and a hundred Crowns in his Pocket for that Souldier, who should send him to Triumph in Heaven. The History renders this testimony of his Death; that it was a Triumphant and Victorious Death. But though it was victorious; yet it did not equal the Death of a Ladie of Siget, who surpasseth all that is left us of the Memory of Heroick time.

She was a Woman of quality, and one of the fairest: but she was none of those languishing Beauties and without Vigour; of those Beauties which resemble the stars of the North, which have no activity, and shine faintly, and without heat. She was vigorous and bold, yet vigorous with sweetnesse, and bold with a good Grace and Comlinesse. Her Husband who loved her passionately, and even to the degree of Jealousie, scared nothing but her taking in the taking of Siget. The Image of captivated and inchained Hungary, nay of flaming and bloody Hungary was to his apprehension a lesse dreadful apparition, then the Image of his Captive Wife. To rid himself of this Fantome, which followed him every where, and to secure the Honour and Freedom of his Wife, of whom he was more Jealous, then of the Honour of Christianity, and the Liberty of Europe; He resolved to take her out of the World, before the Victorious Turk should enter the City; which was no longer able to resist, and had too good hearts left to yield themselves.

This so Tragick and soul a resolution was no sooner fixed in his Minde, but the slains thereof appeared even in his Eyes and upon his Face: His Wife who was discreet and quick-sighted observed them, and was touched therewith, she pardoned his Jealousie in consideration of his Love: And though she was fully prepared for death, yet she did not desire a death which might make him a Criminal, whom she loved more then her own life. She took him aside and made him un∣derstand, that his bad intention could not be hidden from her: She was so dexterous as to draw the confession of it from his own mouth, and upon his Confession she strongly and efficatiously represented to him the infamie which would remain to him from so Barbarous an Act, and the Scandal which he would give to his Age, and leave unto posterity.

I confesse said she, that I owe you all my blood; And behold me ready to give it without reserving one drop▪ But have patience till some other come to shed it: Do not fullie your hands with it; stain neither your memory nor your soul there∣with: Do not inkindle an eternal fire by it. For my part, I ap∣prehend far more Life then Death: and all the Scimiters of the Turks cause in me far less fear, then their most gentle and pretious Chain, were it more sweet and pretious then the Diadem of the Sultanesse. But

permit me to die gloriously and with Reputation: Do not dishonour the Repose which you seek, Disparage not your good affection: My Honour is not so desperate, that it cannot be preserved but by a Crime. You think to justifie your self by laying the blame upon Love: You are much mistaken, if you take it for a murderer: Do not put the Dagger into its hands: Do not solicit it to commit a murder; and if you cannot restore it the goods you have received from it, leave it at least its Reputation, and do not envie its Innocencie. An honou∣rable Death is not so hard a thing to find in a Town taken by force: There enter enough of them by Gates and Breaches. Let us fallie forth together with Swords in our hands to chuse an illustrious and renowned end. Let it be by fire or sword; let it be short or lasting it imports not; It will be sweet to me, provided I dye a rival to your Va∣lour, and not a Victime to your Jealousie.

Having said this, she caused her self to be compleatly armed, and went out with a Sword in her hand, and a Buckler upon her arm; her Husband followed her, armed with the like weapons, and encouraged by her words and Example, which gave him a second Heart, and a new Spirit. They went on boldly where fire, noise, and danger were greatest. And as soon as they came to the place, where they were to fight between the flaming Fire, and the victorious Army, They shewed by the won∣ders which they did, that there is no valour like the valour of despair∣ing Love, and of Graces armed in defence of their Honour. After a long and rude fight, they were at last rather overpressed then over∣come by a barbarous multitude, irritated by their own losses, and their resistance: And feeling their strength stealing away with their Blood, they gave each other their last imbraces, and fell upon a heap of dead bodies, which had been slain by their Hands. They could not die more sweetly then in the fruition of their mutual Fidelity: They could not have a more magnificent Tomb, then their Arms and Victo∣ries. Their souls which imbraced each other as well as their Bodies, could not be severed by Death. And it was believed that God, who is the Author of chast Unions, received them into Heaven in this con∣dition, and crowned them with the same Glory.

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ZENOBIE. Reyne des Palmyreniens, victorieuse des Reys et des Lyons, 〈…〉〈…〉 la chasse et les dresse par sen exemple à la vaillance et à la victorie. 〈…〉〈…〉

Zenobia.

CONFESSE that this new Spectacle hath surprised you; And that you could not have believed the Graces so Couragious, nor Lovers so Adventu∣rous, as to go in chase of Tygers and Lyons. Besides, if it were to the chase of Swans, which are harmonious and amiable, and armed only with feathers: If it were to the chase of Bees, which have nothing but honey in their bodies, and respect Innocents and Virgins: the party would be lesse unequal, and the divertisment lesse hazardous and rash. Beauty which is the Mother of the Graces, and Loves goeth also sometimes a hunting; But it is onely to the chase of Eyes and Hearts, which have neither teeth nor nails, and can neither bite nor scratch: And now adayes the chil∣dren of this Mother have the boldness to hunt Tygers and Lyons.

But shew no fear for them; they are accompanied by Ze∣nobia, who yesterday gave chase to the Roman Eagles, which are more dreadfull and furious Beasts, then Lyons and Tygers. Yes, she whom you see hunting there so gallantly, and with so gracefull a boldnesse, is the famous Zenobia Queen of the Pal∣myrenians, who lately gave Chase to the Roman Eagles: And by the defeat of the Imperiall Army, secured to her self the Conquest of Egypt. So glorious and painfull a Chase well de∣served that peace and divertisments should succeed. But this generous Woman hath not learn'd to refresh her self like o∣thers

in her Closet and under a Canopy of State. Her very re∣pose is Active and Heroick: and her divertisments ars dange∣rous Combats, and essayes of Victories.

You may approach without danger, and contribute at least with your eyes to the noblest Chase which was ever given. It is not like those which are practised in the Amphiaters of Rome, where captive Beasts are chased by captive Men▪ There is no∣thing here which is not Glorious and Noble; They are Sove∣raignes that chase, and are chased: And that which is yet more wonderfull, Lovers are here bold, and the Graces adventerous and dreadfull. Beauty indeed was heretofore seen armed; but it was rather for shew then a Combat: And her weapons were as little dangerous, as the prickets which Roses bear. Zenobia was not content with furnishing her with Arms; she made her warlike, and taught her all serious and practick Combats.

Consider with what boldnesse she attaqu's this Lyon. It appears by her countenance that she takes this danger for a pa∣stime of her Courage. The fiercenesse you see in her is not a fiercenesse of any trouble or emotion: It is a demonstration of courage, and a tincture of boldnesse spread upon her face: It is a valour of countenance, and a Meene of Combat: It is a manly and military Grace: It is a tart sweetnesse, which plea∣singly affrights which begets at once both fear and love. But Zenobia imployes not here any thing of this tartness; she re∣serves it for other occasions, when she is to grapple with Consuls and Kings. This Chase is to her but a meer divertisment: And her heart could not be more calme▪ nor her face more se∣rene, had she been to deal only with Beasts in a painted Cloth.

Her Horse couragious by Nature, and proud of the fair burthen he bears, casts forth his feet as if he meant to give the first stroak, and anticipate the Javelin which is ready to part from the Princesses hand. The chased Lyon prepares to receive them both: And he was even ready to have cast himself upon Zenobia; but the lightnings which her heart and spirit dart in∣to his eyes, the flaming of those feathers which dance about her head, and the jewels wherewith she is adorned making her ap∣pear like a flaming fire, he looks upon her with an irresolute

Anger mixt with Fear: And you would say beholding his posture, that he deliberates between the dazling brightnesse, and the threatning Javelin.

Disquiet not your self, and abandon the fear you expresse to have of Zenobia; she is accustomed to overcome all sorts of Enemies; and if she should fail of her stroke, Araspes who is present with a sword in his Hand to second her, would have Courage enough to draw upon himself the danger and Fury of the Beast. He could not be worse treated by him, then he is by his own Love, which exposeth him to a thousand cares and vexations, tearing him in pieces without teeth or nails. Like∣wise the most frightful instruments, and the greatest wounds do not alwayes cause the greatest Torments. Such as delivered up their Slaves to Lions, were lesse cruel then he that com∣manded his own to be cast amongst Lampryes; and it were better to be crushed in pieces by an Elephant, then to be gnawn by Rats, or eaten up by Flies.

This poor Prince Zenobia's Prisoner, even a Prisoner with∣out Chains and Manacles, is come from a remote Countrey to offer her his Person with his Kingdom. But he assaults a place too well provided: and though a Scepter and a Throne be powerful Engines; yet in vain will he bend the forces of his Throne and Scepter against her. The Heart of Zenobia is too well fortified against all sorts of second affections: The Name and Image of Odenatus leaves no place empty there: And surely she will not violate the Vow of VVidowhood which she made to his Ghost and Memory. Eraspes is in Despair of her, as you see; yet his Despair is respectful, and accompanied with esteem: And he loves better Zenobia generous and inflexible, then he would do Zenobia base and yeelding. Observe his Respect in his very looks, his Despair by his Palenesse, and the fire of his Heart under the Ashes of his Face. See how he suspends his Address and Courage before his Conqueresse: He will leave her all the Glory of the Chase: And looking on her with imploring eyes, he demands of her for himself, the same fair Death she prepares for the Lion: and intreats her to do that favour at one stroke to them both. But she was satis∣fied

in having wounded him with her eyes, without under∣taking to wound him by her hand. And so far was she from taking away his life, that she was ready to have given him his Liberty, and reduced him to himself, if he would have em∣brac'd it.

As for this stately Beast, he will carry no further either his Liberty or Life: And in recompence of them both he will have the Glory to be overcome by the same Arm, which Ye∣sterday vanquished the Roman Eagles. Her two sons who stand by her, intend to share in her Victory, and finish with their Bowes what she is going to begin with her Javelin, It is not requisite that I shew them to you to make them known. Their Beautiful and Couragious Mother is so to the Life upon their Faces and in their Actions, as there are no Eyes so bad which do not suddenly discern, that these two lovely Coppies come from this fair Original. You will remain astonished to behold in them so great Courage in so tender an Age; if you consider that they are born of an Heroess, who possesseth all the Graces of her Sex, and all the Vertues of ours. Her active and contagious Courage is not only communicated to her chil∣dren, who grow warlike by hunting, and learn by practising on Lions to vanquish Kings: But it animates her whole Fa∣mily, and inspires all her domesticks: And her House repre∣sents no lesse the Court of a Queen, then the Camp of a Con∣queresse. The most usual and chief imployment of her Do∣mesticks is to fight and overcome. Her very Daughters be∣come valiant by her Example, and have the Generosity of Amazons, wearing their habits, and executing their Fun∣ctions.

They stay to hunt in the neighbouring Wood: And from hence you might have the pleasure of their Chace; you might be Spectators of their Boldnesse and Activity, if the Trees did not hinder your sight. Behold three of the boldest and most diligent about the Queen, who undertake to set upon a Tyger, which she had wounded in passing by. But he is no longer in a condition either of saving or defending himself. The Arrow hath pierced his shoulder, and whether he received with it

some Charms from the hand that sent it, or whether these Cu∣pids which binde him with strings of Myrrhe, have deprived him of his Natural fierceness; It seems that his Wound af∣fords him more Glory then it gives him pain. You would say that one single stroke doth not suffice him: and that he expects to dye from more then one hand; and to do Honour by his Death unto more then one Grace. And had there been some se∣cret attractive in these shafts, had the Cupids that binde him drawn them out of their Quivers, and lent them to these Hun∣tresses he could not expose himself to their strokes with more Cheerfulnesse and Delight.

SONNET.

WIth armed hand, with brow where lightning springs, After defeats of Consuls and of Kings; Zenobia, in this Wood, her self will grace With the wilde Triumph of a dangerous Chase.

The Flames of Courage which her Eyes do shoot, By Charm, or ••••we, render the Lion mute; Who vanquish'd without fight, doubts which to try, A noble Death, or noble Slavery.

Careless Spectators, from the like surprise Defend your selves, since from these conquering Eyes Are sent such fires and shafts as though no sound Is by them made, do make a mortal Wound.

They have been practis'd in the chase of hearts: And if yours be not wing'd, to flye their Darts, They easily may in this stout Lions steed Be either taken or be made to bleed.

ELOGIE OF ZENOBIA.

ZENOBIA, who hunts Lyons and Tygers in this 〈◊〉〈◊〉 makes warre also at present against all Asia in this Histo∣ry: And in all places where her memory is mentioned, we see Towns taken either by force, Armies defeated, of Crowns acquired. She was of the Race of the Ptolo••••••••, and descended from Cleopatra, whose Beauty, Spirit, and Magnificence she inherited. Besides these qualities of succession and hereditary Graces, she had acquired Vertues; and she was of her self Modest, Couragious, Eloquent, and Warlike. Her Beauty, to behold it in the Pictures which Historians have left thereof, was a 〈…〉〈…〉 and Military, an Active and Commanding Beauty: And her Heroick Statute, her confident Meene, her stately and bold Grace, her spark∣ling and flaming Eyes, and all her Exteriour, like that which Pain•••••• ascribe to Vertue and Victory, was to her as a specious Dignity, and a certain pleasing and becomming Authority, which perswaded without speaking, and subjected souls by the sight.

So perfect a Body was inhabited by a more perfect Soul, which ••••∣sembled a fair Intelligence in a beautifull Planet. She was very ex∣pert in the knowledge of Princes, and private Men, in Policy, and is the Military Art: She possessed both pleasing and profitable 〈◊〉〈◊〉 She was so well read in the History of the East, as she her self composed brief Annals of it: And thereby also she equalled the glory of these Conquerours who were no lesse renowned by the Pen then the Sword, and who at night wrote down in their Tents, what they had 〈…〉〈…〉 day in the Field. The Cabinets of Cleopatra, in which there were Jewels enough for four Crowns, could not have enough to honour 〈◊〉〈◊〉 History. She deserved respect from the most injurious time. And if there be, as they say, a Genius Guardian of Books, and a 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of Learning, Let us avow that he hath very ill discharged his 〈◊〉〈◊〉, in having saved either the true or forged Epistles of the Tyrant 〈◊〉〈◊〉, in having conserved the impure Visions of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Dreams of Apulci••s, and done nothing to preserve this glorious Monu∣ment of the Wit and Eloquence of Zenobia.

In all times malicious and jealous persons have given out, that there was no good correspondence between the Graces and Vertues; And that very rarely, the Fair and Learned were Chast and Modest: Zenobia hath given the lie to these spitefull and distrustfull people: And the Roman Historians, who for reason of State, have more sullied the repu∣tation of Cleopatra, then the Sunne of Egypt had blacked her face, did never intrench upon the honour of her Progeny. She was a chaster Wi••e then the most part of their Vestals were chast Virgins. As soon as she suspected her self to be with Childe, she declared her self a Widow until she was delivered: And though in this manner she every yeer took

upon her a Widowhood of nine moneths during her Husbands Life; yet after his death she could never perswade her self that she was a Widow. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 lived still in her thoughts; and his Bodie having been ravished from her by the Crime of one of her kindred, she remained 〈◊〉〈◊〉 married to his Name and Memorie.

〈◊〉〈◊〉 also and pleasure, which are the Incendiaries of dishonest Love, were not of her Court, nor had any accesse about her. War and hunting took up her whole time, and were all her divertisments. And when there were to Kings to overcome, nor Towns to besiege, she went unto the Woods to fight with wilde Beasts, and to enter by force into their 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and Caves. During the Life of 〈◊〉〈◊〉, she waged War against the Persians for the Romans: and after his Death she made War of her self against the Egyptians and the Romans themselves. She marched in the Head of her Troops, alwayes the first in fight, and the last in the 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Her eyes were the Common fire of her Camp: the most effe∣••••••••e there warmed themselves, and drew vigour and Courage from 〈◊〉〈◊〉. And when she made any speech in the day of Battel, she left nothing to be effected by Clarions and Trumpets.

Her designes were no lesse vast, nor lesse elevated then those of her Grandmother Cleopatra, who prepared a Yoke and Chains for the Gods of the Capitol; and had the Ambition to have Consuls for her 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and to be attended by Captive Dictators. She thought like Cleo∣patra to make her self the Commandresse of all the Grandees of the 〈◊〉〈◊〉: and undoubtedly she would have carried her Arms even to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 self, and shared the Empire with Victoria, who was another 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Princesse of the West; if Fortune, jealous of her Honour, had not with 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and all the Forces of the Empire come against her. 〈◊〉〈◊〉, she could not be but half defeated, and by Composition: And 〈◊〉〈◊〉 rather triumphed over by her a Treaty, then by a just Victory. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Triumph was also followed by the Triumph of his Captive, who 〈…〉〈…〉 in her turn. He had but half overcome, and with much 〈◊〉〈◊〉, the Valour of the Mother: the Beauty of the Daughter van∣quished him totally and without Trouble; and having at length 〈◊〉〈◊〉, as some Authors affirm, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 had the satisfaction to see her 〈◊〉〈◊〉 upon the Throne of Caesars, and her Image adored at Rome.

MORAL REFLECTION.

IT is great Pittie that so eminent a Generosity, so Heroick a Con∣stancie, so invincible a Chastity, so modest Graces, so many Vertues of Peace and War should be damned: And that Zenobia the Cou∣ragious, the Temperate and Chast, should finde as bad an Eternity as Messaline the dissolute and incontinent. But how should we help it? Heathen Vertues, what Beauty soever they have, how well adorned so∣ever they be, are in fine but foolish Virgins. The Heavenly Bridegroom knows them not: and what supplications soever they present at the gate of his Palace, it will never be opened to them. If Chastity, Temperance, Modesty, and Fidelity, which shall not come to him with full and light∣ed Lamps, and shall not be presented to him by Faith and Charity, will not be admitted to these Nuptials. If there be no place there for temperate, and modest Heathen Women, who had no warning to pre∣pare their Lamps, and to follow these lovely Guides to the Bride∣groom; what will become of the licentious and debauched Christian Women, who have broken their Lamps, contemned, and rejected their Guides? Certainly if it be written that penitent Nineve shall condemn incorrigible Jerusalem; it is much to be feared that the gallant Zenobia, and other Vertuous Heathens shall rise up in the day of Judgement to give Testimony against our Ladies, who refute their belief by their course of life: who condemn by their Wantonnesse and excesse, the force of Christianity, and the Austerity of the Gospel; who had ra∣ther lose eternal Crowns, then part with little flowers half perished, serving only to infect them with their ill odour, and to prick them with their thorns.

MORAL QUESTION.

Whether Women be capable of Military Vertues?

I Dispute not here against the general practise; nor pretend by pri∣vate authority to discard an Immemorial Discipline, and a policie as antient as Nature. Lesse also is it my designe to publish an edict by which all Women should be summoned to War. They ought to keep themselves to the distribution which Nature and the Laws have made, and Custome received; and to content themselves with that part which hath been assigned them in oeconomie and houshold affairs. I say only, that this common Right which deprived them of Arms, hath not rob'd them of Courage, nor cut off their Hands; that military Ver∣tues are neither too unwieldy nor too harsh for them: And if it were the

good pleasure of Custome, valiant and victorious Women would not be ranked amongst the prodigies of their Sex. The Number of them would be as great, and the Examples as common as of Wi••e and Chast Women.

First, the Heart is the essential part of Gallant and Valiant Men: It is the Heart which begins all assaults and Combats; which gives the first Charge, and comes off the last: and it cannot be denyed that a Womans Heart is as vigorous, and of as good a temper as that of a Man; if we consider that it was made by the same Hand, and formed of the same matter. And there is some ground to believe, that it may be more vigorous and of a better Temper: if we remember that the first Wo∣man was made of a matter already solid, and which had need of soft∣ning. Moreover as Steel what hardness soever it received from Nature, cannot be formed into the iron of a Lance nor into a Sword unlesse it be softned: so Courage is gross and material, immoveable and unactive, before it be sharpned: And Choler according to the saying of the Philosopher, must be whetted that it may become Valour and service∣able for War. Now it is certain and experience shews it, that this Choler which excites Courage, and gives it the title of Valour, is more quick and sudden in Women then Men: And consequently if Custom hath deprived them of acquired and habitual Valour, it hath not taken from them Natural Valour, and that Spirit of Choler which is a com∣bating Spirit, and the last tincture of that Humour which produces Gallant Men.

Some will oppose to me here the delicacie of their complexion, and the tenderness of their Temper. It will be demanded of me what reckoning will be made of such a Hand as may be hurt by an ill sowen Glove, or an ill polished Ring? Of such a Head as sweats under silk, and bows under a soft Pillow? Of such a Bodie as may be pierced through by a Beam of the Sun, and be beaten down by a single Hail∣stone: To this one may answer; first, that this Weakness proceeds from the ill Education of Women and not from their temper: And Plato observes very judiciously to this purpose, that if the excesse of Hu∣midity, which allayes their Vigour, and renders them more tender then Men, were dried up by moderate exercise; their Complexion being reduced thereby to a more just and exact quality then ours; their Bo∣dies would become by that means stronger and more active, and have a more free and lasting motion. Whereupon, that I may not seem to vent a Proposition at random and without proof, he makes us observe, that among all the Species of Animals of prey, the Females have the swiftest pace and the strongest flight, and sight more couragiously, and with more vigour then the Males.

In the second place we must answer, that valour doth not require Arms of Steel, nor Hands of Iron: That the antient Hero's were not brazen Statues: that they were not all of the Complexion of that fa∣mous Grecian, who wrastsed against the greatest Chains: And that

even in these dayes men dryed up by the Sun, and hardned by Frost, are not the Persons who gain victories. Let us adde for a third answer, that tendernesse is not so timerous as they make it, nor so incompatible with Valour. Roses which are so Beautiful grow compleatly armed, and though tender forbear not to prick. Bees which live within the Honey Comb, and are sed by the Spirit of Flowers, have stings and wage war. The Holy Scripture makes mention of a Dove which was no lesse formidable then Eagles: And not to go so far, the Heart it self, which is the scat of Valour, is the most tender part of the Body: It is composed of flesh without Nerves, and Bones; hath neither Teeth nor Nails to fortifie it. There may well then be generous Spirits and vigo∣rous Souls in tender Bodies, as there are good swords in Velvet Scab∣bards, as victorious Hands are seen in persumed Gloves; as Conque∣rors are lodged in painted and guilded Tents.

That if it be necessary to support reason by experience, and to make History speak for Philosophie; it will produce from all Ages whole Armies of couragious and warlike Women; Women Conqueresses and victorious over men; even the most gallant and valiant amongst men. That famous Cyrus, who deserved the Name of great by the great∣ness of his exploits, was defeated by Thamaris Queen of Scythia: And the Scythiaus themselves who were all born Souldiers, and had no other Countrey nor Houses then a Camp and Tents, were overcome by the Amazons. That famous Semiramis to whom a Prophet gave the Name of Dove, was indeed a Dove in her Closet, even a voluptuous and per∣fumed Dove, but a victorious Eagle in the Field: And in her time Asia had no King out of whose hands she wrested not the Scepter, and from whose head she snatched not the Crown. Bund••va was another Eagle, to usefull the same Phrase, but a Northern Eagle, who in several Battels vanquished the Roman Eagles; and intended to chase them out of England▪ Zenobia, whose Picture I have newly given you, did not treat them more gently in Egypt and Persia: and the Commanders of Nati∣tions and the Conquerors of the World were necessitated to come to composition in point of Victory with a Woman.

France hath had Amazons as well as Scythia and other Countreyes be∣yond the seas; And to defer to another time the Maid of Orleans, whose Valour came to her by Inspiration and Miracle; not to produce here a 〈◊〉〈◊〉 L••sse who drove the Flemmgs out of Amreus; and forced out of their Hands a Town taken, and a victory gained: not to speak of the boldness wherewith the Ladies of Be••••••ais repulsed the Hugonots during the Civil Wars of France: The memory remains still fresh of the late Siege of C••••••brey, and of the Heroick Courage, which the Wife of the Marshal of Balagus shewed there to the general astonishment of all those that beheld her upon this Stage. She assisted in all Military du∣ties, she visited the Sentinels and the Courts of Guard; she made Speeches upon the Bulwarks, she gave Life to their Labours by her Presence and Example. And if betimes she had known how to gain the

Hearts of the Inhabitants; the Head of Count Fue••tes, and all the Arms of his Camp would have unprofitably wearied themselves at this Siege. She was likewise of the House of Amboise; and the Name of Amboise, is a Name of valiant Men and Women. The Race is couragi∣ous and full of Heroick Spirits in all the Branches thereof. It resembles that of Palms, whose Females are as vigorous as the Males, and as fit for Victories and Triumphs. And besides now that we have War with Spain, if some Count Fuenutes should present himself before ••resie, he would not indeed finde there the Courage and Magnanimity of the Marshal of Baligni's Wife to be cruel and haughty, but a Valour accompanied with sweetnesse, and a civilized and gentle Magnanimity, mixed with armed and liberal Graces. And assuredly this mixture of sweetness and courage, and this conjunction of Arms and Liberalities in the Gover∣ness could not be the least strong piece of the Cittadel.

But it is not necessary to inroll here all the gallant Women, who have made Beauty warlike, and armed the Graces. The Princess whom I am going to produce will finish the convincing of those who place va∣liant Women amongst Monsters: And who believe that a Cask and Plumes of Feathers upon a Womans Head, make no less a Prodigie then heretofore the Snakes did upon the Head of Medusa.

EXAMPLE.

Joan of Flanders, Countess of Montfort.

EAgles whatsoever they do are still Eagles: And whether they sport in the Air, or have any thing in Chase, they sport with Vi∣gour, and chase couragiously and with vehemency. Joan Countess of Mountfort, and Daughter to Lewis Earl of Flanders, was one of these ever generous and bold Eagles. Her whole Life was a perpetual War∣fare, or a continual preparation to it. Her first divertisments were la∣borious and manly: And at the Age when Maids begin to see the World to go to Bals, and shew themselves at publick Meetings; she began to learn the riding of great Horses, running at Tilt and fighting at Banners.

She learnt all these Exercises without forgetting the Bashfulness of her Sex, without taking off from sweetness or discomposing Graces: And there was alwayes upon her Face, and in all her Actions, a mixture of Beauty and Valour; a tincture mingled with Boldness and Modesty, and a certain Air like that of Minerva, drawn by the antient Painter, who was armed and yet appeared a Virgin. Her Valour likewise was not a Valour for Carrousels and Turnaments: and her Gallantry was not painted and specious. From counterfeit VVars and Chamber Com∣bats, she passed to real VVars, and Field Encounters: she was present at Sieges and Naval Battels: she gained all kindes of Victories, and merited all sorts of Crowns.

Joan Duke of Brittany dying without Children, left to the Earl of Mountfort, and Charls of Blois the strife about Succession. The Earl be∣gan the pursuit of his right by a seizure: and assisted by the VVit and courage of the Countess his Wife, partly by Force, and partly by dex∣tetity, he gained the most considerable places of the Province. Charls prevented by what was done, had recourse to the Court of Peers and to the protection of the King, whose Neece he had married. The Court adjudged the difference about succession in his Favour: And the King committed the Execution of the Decree to his Son the Duke of Nor∣mandy, sending him with an Army into Brittany. After the reduction of some Places, the Earl of Montfort was taken at Nants, and sent Prisoner to Paris, where he dyed in the Tower of the Lo••••er.

This fall of the Count must evidently occasion the Ruine of his Countesse, As they say, the Death of the Male Palm is followed by that of the Female; But all Loves are not of the same complexion, nor subject to the same Symptomes. The generous Widow remained unshaken between her Husbands Death, which lay extreamly heavy on her heart, and the war he left upon her shoulders: And it was a hard task for a Widow to stand out against all France, her Enemie and in Arms. She visited in Person all the Towns of her Party: she setled the affrigh∣ted people, and confirmed the wavering Garrisons: she gained noble souls by her Caresses, and the mercenary by presents, And by her Ex∣ample infused courage into the one, and fidelity into the other.

Afterwards the War being reinkindled by the first ray of the spring: And the City of Rennes, after some assaults, being rendred to Charles of Bloi••, notwithstanding the resistance of William of Cad••vilal who com∣manded there; the French Armies marched to besiege Henebond, to which place the Countesse betook her self with her choisest friends: She manfully sustained the siege, and served there with her whole Person: She acted no lesse with her armes then with her heart and head; And she alone was of more use then many Souldiers and Captains. She gave out Orders, and was the first in executing the Orders given: She made one in all the Sallies, and assisted at all the Assaults. And when she ascended upon the walls, and went through the streets mounted on a warlike horse and compleatly armed, the lightning of her eyes and the fire of her heart spread upon her face, and this Valour of carriage and coun∣tenance which reinforc'd her Beauty, and gave it a quicknesse, did encourage the most scarful, and awaked the most drowsie and faint-hearted.

One day, when the Besiegers equally irritated by her resistance, and their own losses come to a general Assault, the Couragious Princesse having for defence set in order all her people, even her Women and Maids, whom her example had made warlike, ascended unto the top of a Tower to discover the state of the sight: And as soon as shee dis∣cerned that none but servants were left for the Guard of the Camp; she came down from the Tower, took Horse and Sallying forth by a Po∣sterne

Gate in the head of three hundred Cuirassiers she fired the Ene∣mies Quarters. The smoak and flame called them quickly back to the defence of their Tents and Baggage. The Countesse having done her work, made a Gallant Retreat in the sight of her Pursuers: And the wayes of Herel••and being shut up, she got with her Party into Aulroy. The besieged were five dayes without hearing any tidings of her: Meanwhile she made up five hundred Horse: And the sixth day very early in the morning she presented her self before the face of the Camp: She forced all that she found in her way, and entred the City with a great sound of Trumpets: Victory her self could not enter more Gloriously, not be received with more joy.

It was not onely her work to resist Force and Engins rais'd against the Walls, but the was to defend her self against Stratageins, and to contest with those artifices which slack the courage of her people, and debauch them from her service. But in fine, her Prudence, her Dexterity, and the Eloquence of her intreaties accompanied with her presents, stayed them till the arrival of the English succours which raised this first Siege. She procured afterwards a Cessation of Arms, which gave her time to passe over into England, and in Person to sollicite new aids. Magnifi∣cence, Civility, and all the Graces asked them in her behalf, and caused them to be Imbarked: Her Valour and Fortune preserued them at Sea, and rendred them Victorious in Britany.

The Naval Army of Charles of Blois having set upon her before the Islands of Garnsey, the manifested that her Valour was for both Ele∣ments: and that she had as good a Heart, and as solid a Head in a ship, as upon a Bulwark and in ••renches. She fought all the day with a Sword in her Hand, under a storm of Iron and Fire, and amongst many dead Bodies of different forms and all of them frightful enough. Neverthe∣lesse she did neither sink under Iron nor Fire: she beheld with a sted∣saft Eye all the shapes of these bloody and gastly dead Corps: And though they had been more terrible and in greater numbers, she would not have sailed to carry away the Victory in the midst of them, if the Night and Tempest which intervened had not taken it out of her hands. As soon as she landed with her Troops, she marched directly to Vanues, and began the War afresh by besieging this Place. Her presence and Example proved the two strongest Instruments wherewith the Walls were beaten down. And the Town at last being taken by Force after several assaults, in which she sought both with Voice and Hand, she made her entry on horseback, and like a Conqueress.

If I were to follow this Victorious Woman in all occasions, and in all the fights at which she was present; I should write here a History of ma∣ny yeers: It sufficeth to say for conclusion, that after divers Sieges and Battels, she placed the Crown upon her Sons' head. And if she had lived in an Age of Statues and triumphant Arches, she would still triumph in Marble and Brass, upon all the Gates and publick Places of all the Cities in Brittany, as she still sights and will fight eternally in our History.