The holy court in five tomes, the first treating of motives which should excite men of qualitie to Christian perfection, the second of the prelate, souldier, states-man, and ladie, the third of maxims of Christianitie against prophanesse ..., the fourth containing the command of reason over the passions, the fifth now first published in English and much augemented according to the last edition of the authour containing the lives of the most famous and illustrious courtiers taken out of the Old and New Testament and other modern authours / written in French by Nicholas Caussin ; translated into English by Sr. T.H. and others.

THE DISASTERS OF SUCH As have yielded to the Passion OF LOVE AND The Glory of Souls, which have overcome it.

1. LEt us begin with that Passion which is the Source of the rest, and which in all times hath caused trouble among men, to give a ground to our discourse. The children of great Clodoveus, became not so soon tractable to the severity of Christian manners, but suffered themselves very often to be trans∣ported with very violent exorbitancies, and particular∣ly with unlawful loves; which caused ill example in their house, and great disorder throughout their Kingdome. * 1.1

Gregory of Tours observeth fordid and shamefull affections in the person of King Caribert grand-child of Clodoveus, which cast an Eclipse upon the lights of the Diademe of this great King, and could never be rooted out but by patience, by prayers, and by the ef∣fects of the puissant hand of God.

Queen Ingobergua, who knew the humours of her * 1.2 husband to be addicted to inconsiderate love, and who was jealous enough of her bed, took not among her at∣tendant Ladies those nymphs of the Court which are full of attractives, and deserve admiration: but pur∣posely chose out base and despicable wayters, thinking it was a singular remedy against the Kings malady. She had at that time in her Court and service two daughters of a Clothworker, the eldest of which was called Mar∣covessa, and the youngest Mirefleur. Caribert (whose love was more lustfull then ambitious) became despe∣rately in love, and courted them to the prejudice of his honour and wedlock, which wounded the soul of the Queen with a very sensible arrow, seeing the havock this passion made in the mind of this Monarch. Jea∣lousie suggesteth her a trick which seemed sufficient to divert him from his infamous servitude; if this passion might be cured by another, and that a jealous woman did not irritate the wounds of love by its proper reme∣dies. She calleth the Father of her two servants, & com∣manded him secretly to practise his trade in some cor∣ner of the Court, whither she very cunningly brought his Majesty, to make him see the base extraction of his Mistresses, and to throw shame & confusion upon him. But he (who at distance saw this wile coming towards him, and the solemn preparation of it) was displeased, saying, that if nothing were wanting but nobility to ren∣der these maids worthy of his love, he would sufficient∣ly ennoble them by his person, and that it onely belong∣ed to him to raise inferiour things, by loving them: and as great ones will rather be flattered in their passi∣ons, then censured; instantly he made a shamefull di∣vorce with the Queen contrary to laws both divine and humane, to take to wife the younger of these sisters which was Mirefleur. But, love (which being of its nature a slave fai••eth not to be disdainfull) quickly put a distaste of her unto him, to make him look after the elder who seemed the more modest, and wear a religi∣ous habit; whether desirous to enflame love by this pretext, (which ordinarily is eagre to pursue all it can least obtein) or whether she did it to give lesse advan∣tage and suspicion to the jealous spirit of Queen Ingo∣bergua: The fire of Concupiscence (which spareth not to enflame Linsey-wolsey, as well as Satin) continually blowed by the wind of ambition (which promised this creature a giddy Fancy of a Crown) burnt so strongly; that this spirit (which had more cunning then beauty) caused so much madnesse to creep into the heart of this miserable king, that he resolved to marry her; which he did, qualifying a prodigious whoredome with the title of wedlock. The Queen was ready to dy, and addres∣seth her complaints to God, and men.

The Bishops, who were assembled in the Councell of Tours in favour of her, made Canons against ince∣stuous marriages; but the Canons at that time were not strong enough against the arrows of love. S. German Bishop of Paris sent forth thunders of excommunicati∣on; but passion armed with authority made no more account of them then of flying fires, which are quench∣ed in their birth. God thereto put his hand by the pray∣ers of the Church, and took away this religious woman by a horrible and sudden death which affrighted the King, and he in the end conceived shame and sorrow for his fault, deriving his salvation out of necessity, since he could not gain it from the glory of his refistance. That which remained him of life was short and mise∣rable, and his passion having rendred him contemp∣tible to his own subjects, he quickly left Crown and Scepter to pay a tribute to his Tombe.

2. Another kind of sottish love appeared in the go∣vernment * 1.3 of young Meraveus, which I will here relate, as being able to minister matter of terrour to youth which takes liberty in clandestine marriages. King Chil∣peric his father happened to bear away the bloody spoil of his brother Sigebert who had been traiterously murthered by the subtile practises of Fredegond, when he was come to the Eve of his triumph. The famous Brunhault widow of the deceased King (as yet) very young was become a party of this miserable booty, and saw her pretious liberty enthralled in the hands of her brother in law, and sister, who was born for ven∣geance, and exercised in massacres. Her fortune repre∣sented nothing unto her but a thousand images of ter∣rour; and the cruelty of her adversaries made her

apprehend all that which notable mischievous wicked∣nesse can do, when it hath the sword of power in hand. Yet her bloud was spared to consume her with lan∣guors, sentence of her Captivity was pronounced, by giving her the City of Roan for prison. A trusty man * 1.4 was sought for to execute this Commission, and the King cast his eye on his son Meroveus a young Prince of a nature sweet and facile, & endowed wiht excellent parts which made him to be beloved, and beheld (as a rising star) by all the eyes of France. This was to put fire too near to stubble, not considering that the calme of such natures is ordinarily the most turmoiled with storms of love. So soon as Brunhault (who according to the relation of S. Gregory of Torus was a very beau∣tyfull and well spoken Princesse) began to unciel her eyes which had hitherto been drenched in a deluge of tears; she appeared to Meroveus as a blushing Morn which raiseth the more fair after a shower; and the ar∣row of love sharpned by compassion made such flames to sparkle in his heart, that he was enforced to quench them with his bloud. He saw himself the captive of his fair prisoner, and already well felt he was not born to be predominant over a beauty so triumphant. The easinesse of his nature suffered him not to be long in re∣solving to give way to his passion. He instantly declares himself, and coloureth his request with the title of mar∣riage. Brunhault gives ear, (whether for the love of Meroveus, or whether out of the hatred of Fredegond his mother) supposing it was an opportunity to carry fire very far into the Royall race.

They secretly marry, the Nephue espouseth the Aunt, by a crime unheard; Love is their Pope and King, from whom they take dispensation and leave. Fury con∣ceiveth this marriage: Timerity signeth it; but misery sealeth the contract. Meroveus returneth from Roan stil hiding his fire under the ashes. He gives account of his commission. The King his father resolveth to send him to take possession of Guyenne, which he judged to be fallen unto him by the death of Sigebert. He fergneth to depart from the Court with intention to go to Bourde∣aux, but the countrepoise of love insensibly carryed him to Roan, and he hastneth to court his pretended spouse, and forgets all cares and affairs, to please his passion: which being not kept with in the limits of moderati∣on, made a great noyse, and was carried to the ears of the Court. King Chilperic went to Roan with an ar∣my to quench the fire in its beginning, thinking there was some notable plot contrived against his state; but he finds these lovers had no other arms, but those of Cupid; and that the excesse of their passion had given them so little leisure to think on their own safety, that seeing themselves beset by souldiers, they had recourse to altars which were then secure refuges: for the mise∣rable Chilperic durst not violate Sanctuaries in the pre∣sence of Pretextatus Bishop of Roan, a man courage∣ous and zealous for things divine. He promised himself to take this new married Couple by the want of victu∣all, and other naturall neecessities But he seeing the bu∣sinesse to be drawn, at length patience slips from him, and he made them to come out of the Church, with promise of impunity. His soul was softned, seeing a young Queen, a widdow; and miserable by the cruelty of his wife. Nature pleadeth in his heart for his own bloud, he embraceth them both with tears in his eyes: and (not to affright them) enterteins them with fair hopes; & whilest they little think of it, he sends Brun∣hault into Austrasia her own Countrey, and keeps Me∣roveus under good and sure guard, judging one could not well trust him if he were at his own dispose. In the mean time Fredegonda, immeasurably displeased with the proceedings of this affair, and supposing the King her husband went on too remissly; made it a great crime of state, and of manifest conspiracy: where∣in she involved the Archbishop Pretextatus. He was Meroveus his God-father, & could not but have some tendernesse towards this Prince his God-child, which being sinisterly interpreted, drew much misery upon him. He with his moveables and papers were seized on, where they found certain packets of Queen Brunhaults, which strengthened the suspition they conceived to his prejudice. He is sent for to an assembly of Bishops, where the King coming in chargeth him with the crime of rebellion, accusing him to have withdrawn the people from their obedience, to crown his son; and thereupon roundly required the Prelates that justice might be done according to holy Canons. The witnesses are heard, and confronted, who do not throughly enough prove the crime whereof he was accused. Pretextatus justifieth himself by a solemne protestation of his inno∣cency, which caused compassion in many. But these Pre∣lates assembled were partly weak, and partly sold to serve the Kings passions; there was almost none but Gregory of Torus who having an invincible spirit in a little body encouraged the whole Assembly to the de∣fence of the truth; the menacies of the King, and mur∣thering flatteries of Queen Fredegonde being unable to shake his constancy; Other batteries were likewise made to ruine a man half dead, by stirring up against him divers calumnies from which he very happily vin∣dicated himself; untill at length some treacherous Bi∣shops counselled him to accuse himself (by way of hu∣miliation) of the offence of state which was objected against him. They told him he must not appear too just before his Master; that it was not reasonable the King should receive an affront in this affair; that he was a mild Prince who would Pretextatus should owe his safety to his clemency, and that he no sooner could speak one word of confession but he should be freed from this vexation, and restored to his Dignity. The unfortuante Prelate (giving ear to the hissing of ser∣pents) made his tongue the snare of his soul, and owned an imaginary crime, to undergo a reall unhappinesse. He had no sooner pronounced the word, but the King transported with excessive joy prostrated himself on his knees before the assembly of Bishops, demanding that his robe (for ignominy) should be cut off, and the ex∣ecrations (thundring against Judas) to be pronounced over him. The compassion of some procured modera∣tion therein. Neverthelesse he was instantly degraded, condemned to banishment, and delivered to the Kings Guard, who lead him to a little desert Island near the city of Constance in Normandy, whence he esaped to be in the end massacred by the practises of Q. Fredegonde.

This step-mother was not content to see Meroveus confined to a prison, but she violently urged he might be shaven, and shut in a Monastery, which was execu∣ted. But it is a great errour to think to make a religious man by holding a poignard to his throan, and by taking hair from his head when the consent of his heart cannot be had. The thoughts (which according to the Inter∣preters of Scripture, are as the hairs of the soul) were not taken away by the roots from this miserble Sam∣son. They much persecuted him about his passed Loves, that h•• quickly forsook Cowl and Monastery, to begin new stirs. He went directly to Torus, (which gave much trouble to good Saint Grogory) and spent nights upon the tomb of Saint Martin, fasting and praying to have a revelation which might promise him a crown. But seeing Chilperic pursued him with armed hand, he fled from town to town, and from Sanctuary to San∣ctuary, finding not any one who would support his re∣bellion. In the end he gets into Austrasia, and return∣eth to the embracements of his Spouse, as it were to end himself in those eyes which had enkind∣led

his first flames. But the cunning Queen (consider∣ing that her subjects were raised in alarms upon his comming, and fearing she might draw upon them the totall storm of Chilperics arms, preferred reasons of state before those of love,) besought him to retire. They of Tours (who were suspected by the King for having first of all favoured his flight) thinking not to find their own safety but in his ruine, called him back again under colour to support his arms, and to become of his side. The Prince (in whom passion caused a continuall dr••••kennesse of Reason) being more easie to believe, then prudent to examine reasons, turned to∣wards them; and presently found himself caught in their snare. When seeing himself betraied and ready to be delivered into the hands of his Father, and step-mother (whom he more feared then a Panther) he ad∣dressed himself to Geilan his confident friend, and pray∣ed him to give an end to his miserable life, sith having found so much infidelity in his beloved, treachery in his friends, and crueltie in his father, there nothing re∣mained for him but a Tomb to bury all his miseries. The other thinking to do him great service, thrust his sword into his body, and separated his soul. Which may be a fearfull example for youth, to make them for ever to abhor the charms of love.

That of Carloman was as light, (although it had * 1.5 not, so long a sequele of accidents.) Paulus Aemilius recounteth that this young Prince, accustomed to sottish and sordid love, having in a street perceived a creature which to him seemed handsome; he began to follow her being mounted on his horse; but the maid very chaste (to avoid his courtships) cast her self speedily into a house, whither Carloman (spurring his horse) despe∣rately followed her, not observing that the door of the house was too low; which smote him, and stroke him down so unfortunately, that he left both love and life. It was a direfull thing to see so great a Prince to die in jeast: but the sports of this passion are ordinarily blou∣dy, and Venus came from a sea of water, to swim in a sea of bloud.

3. I will here also let you see the effect of a passion * 1.6 (to all extremity) dissolute and scandalous, which made a great noise throughout all Christendome, and will serve to make men detest the wickednesse of such as break conjugall bands, to satisfie their lust. The young Emperour Lotharius, grand-child of Lewis the Cour∣teous, loved in his younger years a Lady, much menti∣oned in the Epistles of Popes, under the name of Val∣drada. She had a commanding beauty, was of a hu∣mour full of attractives and wiles, which surprized the young Prince with an affection so strong and catching, that after a thousand crosses he could not be unloosed from it, but by death. Neverthelesse, Time and Rea∣son inviting him to think upon a lawfull marriage; he espoused Theutbergue a beautifull and virtuous Prin∣cesse, * 1.7 who was thought fit to quench the fire of his unchaste love, and hereafter to enkindle his heart with flames more chaste and happy. But fascinated by his evil Genius, he presently took an aversion against his wife, being seldome personally with her; and perpetually in mind, and affection with her, who had laid hold of his first love. Whether it were that this audacious woman imperiously ruled over him, (as a man timorous in his passions, who durst not yet confidently do a mischief) or whether he were sufficiently disposed thereunto by the violence of his love; he undertakes a very scandalous bu∣sinesse, which was to unmarry himself, falsly imputing adultery and barrennesse to his wife. The criminall pro∣cesse is handled in the Ecclesiasticall Court; Gontier Archbishop of Collen, who had great power and great faults, supporteth the Princes part what he might, & ha∣ving won Theutgard Archbishop of Trew on his side, he drags along souls set to sale by a torrent of authority to which none make resistance. The innocent Theut∣bergue is condemned in two pestilent Synods, and handled as a prostitute, the Crown is taken from her and put on Valdrada's head, who appeared with a marvellous pomp, whilest the other groaned under the ashes of a publick penance. The chaste Princesse, who not so much regarded eminent wedlocks as the honour of her purity (which she meant to preserve to her tomb) appealed to the Pope, which at that time was Nicholas the first, and wrote mournfull letters to him, able to rent rocks asunder. The common Father of Christendome heareth her complaints animated by truth, and deputeth two Legates to do her right. These Prelates had not courage enough to decide the matter; and seeing them∣selves upon one side assailed by their conscience, and on the other, besieged by the powerfull contentions of Lo∣tharius and two Archbishops, they found out a way how to wash their hands from this judgement, They shew, that since two Provinciall Councels had passed upon it, and that the Archbishops Gontier, and Theut∣gard had born sway therein; it were good that the same men took pains to go to Rome to let the Pope see the acts of those two assemblies, and to justifie all their pro∣ceedings. These two Prelates (who thought nothing was impossible to their credit) refused not the commis∣sion. They go armed with impostures and tattle, to op∣presse truth, and overwhelm innocency. The Pope, a clear-seeing and charitable man, interessed himself in the cause, and in full assembly discovereth their jugling, with such vigour and perspicuity, that all the Fathers cast their stone at them. The mischief they meant against the innocent Theutbergue falls back upon their own heads; they are excommunicated, degraded, deprived of their offices and benefices, to be reduced to the commu∣nion of Lackies. Never did men practise a mischief with more unluckinesse, and lesse successe. A Legate is di∣spatched to annull all they had done, which was the cou∣rageous Arsemius, who caused all the processe to be re∣viewed, drave away the impudent Valdrada, restored her honour to Queen Theutbergue, and tied her marriage with an indissoluble knot. Neverthelesse this judicious Lady, well foreseeing that those loves (which are re-en∣kindled with the fires of S. Peters thunders, would nei∣ther be happy nor faithfull for her) saith, she was satisfied to have put her honour into safegard, and that having observed so much evil disposition in her husband, and treachery in the world, she desired to spend the rest of her dayes with God. Lotharius was transported with joy upon this news, and addressed an humble supplicati∣on to the Pope shewing he had obeyed his command∣ments; being dutifully bent to take his wife again: but since the piety of this Princesse, who is not born for worldly matters, is suggested with the thought of enter∣ing into religion; it would please him to favour her ge∣nerous purpose; & to give him leave to marry Valdrada, w^ch would be a means, to take away all the sin & scan∣dall of his miserable life. The holy Father answers, that he much commended the charity he had towards queen Theutbergue his spouse; but that it was fit this good af∣fection might begin in himself, and should he throughly resolve to enter into a Monastery, the permission he re∣quired for his wife should hinder nothing. This answer confounded him, and seeing that of two wives, he was despised by the one, and interdicted from the o∣ther; he lived in the world as a man without soul or contentment. Mean while, he hoped that God calling Theutbergue; he at least should then have all facility in his marriage with Valdrada: but the Pope, considering the evil practises of this lustfull love which had scanda∣lized all Christendome, and the former usage of his wife; he let him understand that this match was for ever

forbidden. Provoked desire burns to fury: and he a∣gain beginneth a most notorious whoredome, since he could not colour it with the title of marriage. There∣upon menaces and thunders from Rome follow, and the name of Valdrada is mentioned in all excommuni∣cations reiterated one after another. The miserable Lo∣tharius seeing himself crossed by God and men, perpe∣tually pricked with remorse of conscience, resolved to take a journey to Rome; and to present himself to Ha∣drian the second, successour of Nicholas, and to get his absolution, and to mediate the affair of his marriage; his heart still propending towards her, whom he so un∣fortunately had loved. The Pope harkened to him, and received him to penance, and disposed himself to say Masse, wherein he was fully to finish the affair of his reconciliation. When he came to the instant of Commu∣nion, he takes the venerable Hoast in his hand, and ad∣dresseth himself to king Lotharius and all his complices ready to communicate, and sayes to them, Sir, if it be true, that, having renounced your unchaste loves, you this day do present your submissions to God and to the Church in all sincerity; come near, you and yours, to this blessed Sacrament with all confidence in the mercy of God: But, if you still retein the old Leaven of your in∣ordinate affections; get you from the Altar both you and all those who have served you in this businesse, if you will not be involved in the vengeance of God. This speech was a stroke of thunder that affrighted the king and his followers, and which made many of them in∣stantly to retir••. Lotharius was ashamed to go back; and albeit he yet felt the flames of his love to burn in his heart; yet failed he not to passe further with his grea∣test intimates and friends. From that time not any one of those who had unworthily communicated had any health; all miserably died, and the poor Lotharius, re∣turning from his voyage, found the end of his life and direfull passion in the city of Placentia: Valdrada sub∣mitting her self to a just penance obteined absolution from Pope Adrian. Gontier and Theutgard seeing themselves deposed without hope of recovery, armed their pens against the Pope to no purpose. But after∣ward, Gontier made great submission that he might be reestablished; yet obteined not what he desired: for it was answered him that it was from respect of honour and temporall gain that all these humiliations proceed∣ed; and therefore it were much better for him to persever in the exercise of his penance, which was so much the more bitter unto him for that he had in the beginning of this businesse prostituted his Niece to King Lothari∣us under the hope of marriage, which his ambition figured to him. So true it is that God chasticeth vice with a rod of Iron, in such as too near approch the Sanctuary.

Valdrada is not alone (among the Ladies of the old Court) who hath made her self to be talked of in so ill a sense. Love appeared as weak and shamefull in O∣gine Queen of France, Mother of Lewis Outremer, who transported with foolish affection married her self to a young galla••t n••med Heribert, sonne of him who had betrayed and imprisoned Charls the simple, her husband.

5. The like passion was scandalous in the time of * 1.8 Philip le Bel in three noble Princesses married to three sons of France; who were all accused of unchastity by their own husbands, and fell into horrible disasters, to teach women of quality, in what account they ought to hold the honour of chastity.

6. But verily never any thing in this kind did equal the exorbitancy of Queen Eleanor, who renounced F••ance which had eyes too chaste to tolerate her disor∣ders. She going along to the conquest of the holy land, with King Lewis the young her husband, lost piety and reputation, resigning her self to the love of a Sultan Sarazin, the turbant, nor dusky colour of a hideous man being able to stay the fury of her passion. She was the daughter of William the last Duke of Aquitane, who in his time was a scourge of mankind; he alone at one meal did eat as much as eight men; and this vast body filled with wine and viands burnt like a Fornace, throwing out flames of choler and lust on all sides. S. Bernard knocked him down like a Boar; foaming at his feet, presenting the holy Hoast before him, and by that miracle made a Hermit of him. His daughter imi∣tating his evil habits, had no part in his conversion, li∣ving in all liberty. Which was the cause that the King, under colour of affinity, made his match with her to be broken, and restored Guyenne to her which she brought. This bold woman, not amazed at this divorce; espous∣eth Henry of England, a man as passionate as she, where she found a terrible businesse, when (her unqui∣et spirit, powerfully bustling in affairs of state, and the interests of her husbands children) she saw her self shut up in a prison, where she lay for the space of four∣teen years in rage and languours, which put a penance upon her more irksome to her humour, then it proved profitable to her soul.

Good God! what heavie horrours, what Tragedies, and what scourges of God do alwayes fall on sin! What a pleasing spectacle it is to see, amidst such confusions, victories gained over evil love!

7. It is very true, that he who would recount the re∣markable * 1.9 acts of chastity, resplendent in the Court of France, and especially among Ladies, for one (who ought to be forgotten) a thousand might be found, who had lived with very singular testimonies of Integrity: but it is certain that Historians have an itch to set down mischiefs and crimes rather then virtues; which is the cause, that when so many honourable women walk in the beaten track of a well ordered life, we no more admire it then the ordinary course of the Sun: But if one step awry, all curious eyes look on her as on a star in Eclipse.

Yet in so great a negligence of Historians to write the rare effects of modesty, we do not want good ar∣guments which testifie the love our nation hath in all ages born to purity.

8. Nicetas a Greek Authour (in the lamentations of the city of Constantinople taken by the French) can∣not hold from admiring Baldwin the conquerour there∣of, who, entring into a vanquished City wherein there were many beauties, never did he cast so much as one wanton glance; beginning his triumph from the victo∣ry he got over himself: and that which he practised in his own person, he caused to be exactly observed among his attendants, commanding his Heralds twice in a week to proclaim throughout the Imperiall Palace, that all such as should have any ill purpose towards the chastity of Ladies, and meant to debauch the wife of another, were to take heed under grievous penalties ne∣ver to lodge within the circuit of the house. Verily this is a rare example of integrity, able to shame the nobili∣ty so much defamed by giddy and base luxury, which hath blasted the lustre of its conquests, and not spared to raise up bloudy tragedies which still make Histori∣ans to lament.

9. Clodoveus who brought not virginity from Pa∣ganisme * 1.10 so much honoured virgins, that, in the liberty of arms, he permitted not any to touch either their bo∣dies or lands. He bare a singular reverence to S. Gene∣viefue who made profession of this angelicall virtue; he willingly gave ear to her request, and often granted her what he had denied the greatest in his kingdome, even to the drawing of offendours from the gates of hel who had already the executioners ax over their heads.

10. Gontranus his grand-child made himself much * 1.11 worthy of praise by a notable act he did in the behalf of Chastity. It happened that in his time, one Amalon Count of Champaine (who no more spared the honour of Virgins then his own, of which he was infinitely prodigall) caused a Virgin as fair as chaste to be taken, that he might dishonour her. Whilst he expected the successe of this theft, he feasted and drank (accord∣ing to his custome) immoderately. Wine, which en∣kindleth concupiscence, quenched it in him by reason of his excesse: and whilst he more thought upon sleep then love; this poor unfortunate victime was stoln into his bed with all menaces and violences that fury could in∣vent. The poor Virgin seeing this Holophernes was fast asleep thought it were not amisse to renew the Hi∣story of Judith, to vindicate her honour from this gulf whereinto the craft of this treacherous man had preci∣pitated her: she takes a sword which hung at the beds-head, draweth it out of the scabbard, and gave him a wound on the head, which awakened him from this dead-sleep, and made him cry out Murder. His servants speedily ran thither and were ready to knock down this Amazon, when the other, touched with remorse of con∣science, hindered it, and gave her leasure to escape through the throng of the people. The wound (being mortal) quickly carried him out of the world after he had had some time to detest his sin. But his kindred and allies sought for nothing but to cut this young Ju∣dith in pieces, who had dared to lift up a sword against a man of so eminent quality. Wherefore she had re∣course to King Gontranus, and prostrated her self at his feet, telling him all the story which had passed between the Count and her. The King hearkned to her, and freed her, taking her into his protection, against all such as would enterprise upon her life, or honour.

11. Lewis the Courteous consecrated his Kingdome by the honour he gave to chastity, resolving not to enter into his father Charlemaignes palace, until it was san∣ctified. He instantly banished thence all those plagues (which laid snares for the honour of the Princesses his sisters; replenishing his whole Royal palace with a holy odour of virtue and reputation.

12. S. Lewis may serve for an Example to all Prin∣ces, * 1.12 inasmuch as may concern the continency of the married. To banish all Love-toyes from his heart; he resolved perfectly to love the Queen his wife, whom he * 1.13 espoused in his most tender years, and both of them lived and conversed with so much integrity, sweetnesse, and admiration, that one would have thought them a pair of Angels on earth. The husband secretly stole into the chamber of his dear spouse; and much he feared to be met by the Queen his mother who seemed (to such as did not well understand her intentions) to be somewhat jealous to see them together. But to say truly, she managed these interviews in their tender youth, that their health might not be prejudiced, and their marriage might become the more fruitfull. And the good King, to give her no cause of suspicion, had little dogs in the lobby of purpose that they might bark and afford him leasure to save himself, and not be sur∣prized by the diligence of Blaunch, in the Queens chamber. His love was accompanied with so much re∣spect and confidence, that he dispatched not any busi∣nesse without communicating it with her; in such sort, that when he was to conclude the conditions of his deli∣verance with the Sarazens; he freely told them, he could not sign them without the advice of the Queen his wife, who was not farre off. At which these Barbarians were much amazed; but he answered them, it onely be∣longed to them to account their vvives for slaves, and that his, vvas his Lady and Mistresse.

13. Our most Christian King (an imitatour of S. Lewis in the virtue of purity) possesseth it in such a degree, that in him it more dependeth on a gift from God then the temper of man. Praises are often given to Princes, which are as colours in the air, and have no foundation in their merit; but this hath taken such an incorruptible root in the integrity of his manners, that it will never die; which might minister matter for me here to en∣large, had I resolved to write a Panigyrick, and not a History which treateth of things past, as Prophecy, those which are to come.

14. I think I have sufficiently touched in the first and second Tome the notable acts of Charles the Eighth, and Chevallier Bayard; and I am confident, Hi∣story * 1.14 will never suffer the austerities of holy K. Robert to die; who to mortifie concupiscence sometimes lay on the boards the seven whole weeks before Easter.

15. I do not account them contemptible, who ha∣ving not had the happinesse to live in this great purity of S. Lewis, have not spared to resist love which had formerly mastred them. Dagobert, a young King bred * 1.15 in all virtue, by the care and zeal of S. Arnold his Tu∣tour, took liberty in vice very irregularly, so soon as this grave directour had obtained leave to retire from the Court. There are spirits which resemble the wooden Dove of Archytas the Philosopher, which flew by en∣gines whilst they had their operation, and soared in the air; but so soon as they ceased, it trailed the wing on the earth. Such was our Dagobert, who perpetually having this worthy man Arnold by his sides; he spake as an Oracle, and lived like an Angel. There was not any thing more chaste, more devout, and more affable: which was the cause that his Tutour, thinking there was no more need of him about his person, urgently entreat∣ed he might be permitted to withdraw into the Coun∣trey, which the King gain-said, even to the expression of anger, if he spake any more of this retreat. Never∣thelesse, redoubling his importunities, he prevailed; and so soon as he was separated from his scholar; he, who before, was a dove with wings of silver, and who in acts of virtue took a strong and confident flight, suffer∣ed himself to fall into the mire with a scandal as shame∣full, as the excesse was violent. Lust assaulteth, and on all sides besieges him. Licencious youth takes possessi∣on of his soul, and continually blows love and beauty into his ears. It many times hapneth that the passions of young men which have been too severely restrained, so soon as they have found passage, do the more violent∣ly overflow, as if nature went about to take revenge upon art and precepts. They must sometime be shewed the world with contempt, they must be enured against its assaults, they must be prepared against its deceits, that they be not like foolish pigeons which have never seen any thing but suffer themselves to be taken with the first baits. S. Arnold, who was a man that breath∣ed nothing but wildernesses, in my opinion held the spi∣rit of Dagobert in a life too much restrained, which, in the first approach of liberty, flew out into most violent extravagancies. He presently took an aversion against Queen Gomatrade his wife, and in a liberty of doing all which flatterers told him fell to him as an inheri∣tance; he durst to repudiate her, and take a young La∣dy named Ragintrude, whom he most affectionately loved. Lust is the throat of Hell, which never sayes It is enough; and when shame hath no bridle to with-hold it, it makes no difference between things sacred and pro∣fane, and the greatest crimes passe with it, as matters indifferent. This love is not content with common pas∣sion; he entreth into Cloysters, and takes a virgin out of a Monastery who had begun to dedicate her self to God. To her he addeth many others, and makes a little Seraglio of his palace. All France groaned to see so sudden and deplorable a change of life in

their King. S. Arnold is invited by some good men again to visit his young plant, and to take in hand the raines of the Kings direction, which he had forsaken; but whether he were charmed by the sweetnesse of his soli∣tude, or whether he feared he should have no favour∣able admission after so solemn a leave; (which he with so much importunity had begged) he would not heark∣en to it, rather choosing to send his sighs to the ears of God then the Kings. S. Amand determines to under∣take the matter, which he did with Ecclesiastick vigour, and a most undoubted confidence; but the sick man was too tender to endure a tongue armed with sword and fire; so farre was he from disposing himself to reme∣dies, that he could not suffer so much as the presence of his Physician, causing him to be sent into another coun∣trey. Pepin of Landen, who was the prime man in the Court, thought fit to instill some good counsel and sage words as occasion offered; but the King, transported with the exorbitancy of his youth, told him he was a troublesome man, of whom it were fit to rid the world, since he was so hardy as to censure the innocent delights of his Master. For which cause, this great pillar of state, shaken by the storm of a violent passion, much tottered, and was very near to have been thrown down. The Reverence wherewith his virtue was honoured, (which proceeded almost to veneration) saved him to reserve his reasons for a better disposition. During this time the Queen dieth, and the affections of Dagobert began to slacken either out of satiety or shame. This good Councellour layes hold of his opportunity, and takes him on the Biasse; shewing him, his honour and repose joyned with the good of the state required of him a happy posterity; and that it was a very easie mat∣ter for him, since he had honoured Ragintrude with his affections for her exquisite beauty and the excellent gifts wherein she surpassed, that he might take her to wife, and limit his love within lawfull wedlock, which would draw upon him the blessings of heaven, and the love of all his people. This speech happily entred into the Kings heart, and he resolved to follow the Counsel which was presented him by so good a hand. He dis∣misseth all the women which had tyrannized over his affection; he marrieth Ragintrude: and, as if in an in∣stant some charm had been taken away; he in himself (by the hand of God) made such a change, that his life was a Rule of virtue, and his conversion, a miracle. The Court which commonly followeth the inclinations of the Prince, took with him a quite other face; vice and vicious are thence banished, and all virtues thither brought chastity as in triumph.

16, I verily think, it is many times an act as hard * 1.16 and heroick, to free ones self from a miery bog wherein∣to one by mischance is fallen, as to live perpetually in∣nocent. For which cause, I much esteem the resolution * 1.17 of Philip Gods-gift, who being in the beginning di∣stasted with Engelbergue his wife, after he had repudi∣ated her, and taken Mary the daughter of the Duke of Moravia, out of a violent affection which long had embroiled him; he was suddenly converted, and laid hold of the occasion of his salvation. The Complaints of the scandall he gave flew to Rome, and returned with Censures and Thunders. Census, and Meilleur (two Legates sent by the Holy Sea) durst not touch this wound which they judged to be incurable. Peter, Cardinall of S. Mary absolutely incensed him, putting the King∣dome into interdict, and the King into despair, who vo∣mited nought but choller and flames. Two other Le∣gates deputed for a third triall proceeded therein with much sweetnesse, which so gained the soul of Philip that he began to submit to reason. Yet the charms were so violent, that his reason thereby became infirm, and his constancy wavering. His businesse was lastly deci∣ded by a Synod, and it was dangerous lest it might stirre up a storm, when this Royall heart (which was come to plead before the Councel, and to dispose of his affections to the heighth of his contentment (there wanting not to men of authority who flattered his pas∣sion) was suddenly touched, takes the Queen his wife, reconcileth himself to her, sets her behind him on his horse, carries her to his Palace, and caused to be said to the Legates and the other Prelates assembled, that they had no more to do to trouble their heads any longer a∣bout his businesse, for he had happily determined it. If Henry the eighth, King of England, had taken the same course; love would have been disarmed, innovations hindered, concord established, and all the disasters ba∣nished out of England.

Lastly; to conclude this discourse, I verily think, ne∣ver woman better mannaged love then Queen Blanch mother of S. Lewis. She was very lovely: and among those great lights of perfection which encompassed her on all sides; she wanted not beauty, which was the cause that, continuing a widow in a flourishing age, there were Princes in her kingdome who durst promise themselves, that she would reflect on them for a second marriage. Among others, the Count of Champaign proposed this good hap to himself, more then was to be believed, and ceased not to play the Courtier, even to the fitting his gallery with verses and Emblems of the Queen. This prudent widow, who had to do with Great ones in the beginning of her authority of Re∣gent, engaged not her self to any, nor did she likevvise reject their suits: but so soon as some of them percei∣ved she had no purpose for them, they presently took arms to disturb the Kingdome, and lessen the authority of the young King. The Count of Champaign saw himself by necessity embarked in the faction; but he had much ado to defend himself from the affection vvhich possessed him for this exquisite beauty. For vvhich cause he pleaded like a lover, and betrayed his faction, discovering the things most important; vvhich gave Queen Blanch a great light to guard her self from the vvicked enterprises of her enemies, and dissipate all factions.

Observations upon the Passion of DESIRE. Wherein we may behold the misery of ambitious and turbulent Spirits.

THe wind, which is an invisible power, and * 1.18 which appears before our eyes no more then nothing, maketh tall ships to move, pulleth up trees by the roots, overthroweth houses, ex∣ercising on land and sea powers too-too visible. De∣sires, and hopes likewise (which, to say truely, are but imaginations almost unperceivable) vex empires, embroil states, desolate Cities and Provinces, and make havock, such, as we cannot in thought conceive, nor can our eyes ever sufficiently deplore.

It is a strange thing, that from a little fountain-head which onely distilleth drops of vvater, great rivers grovv; and from a desire vvhich invisibly hatcheth in the heart of man, lofty ambitions, burning avarices, and en∣raged

covetousnesse proceed, which destroy mankind.

Our first desires respect body and life, which is the foundation of all the blessings we can hope in this world, and here it is wherein those who flourish in Em∣pires and eminent fortunes shew passions and cares, able to make them immortall, if humane nature might reach to such a state.

We all know that Lewis the eleventh was a Mo∣narch, * 1.19 who, by the greatnesse of his wit and power, darkned all the Kings of his Time; but we likewise can∣not be ignorant, that he had most ardent Passions which gave him infinite disturbances, the consideration where∣of may serve Great ones for the establishment of their repose. Never any man more loved life, nor more fear∣ed death, then this mighty Prince; who seeing himself laden with infirmities, and assailed by old age, (a dis∣ease incurable) employed the whole power of an am∣ple Kingdome to hold together a poor thread of life. There was not any remedy in the world which he tried not; there was no secret in physick which he opened not: his profusion caused him to give a Physician ten thousand crowns a moneth: and although this Monarch were one of the most eminent of his time, and that he sought nothing but to climb over the heads of Princes; yet he made himself a slave to Hippocrates his disci∣ples, to idolatrize health. It is to be thought, if Medea had in his dayes returned into the world, he would have put himself into her hands, of purpose to wax young again, like another Peleus. So soon as he heard speech of a man who cured maladies by certain extraordinary wayes; needs must he come from the utmost limits of the earth: and for this cause he called S. Francis de Paula who drave away feavers and plagues from hu∣mane bodies with so much ease; yet could he not pro∣long the Kings dayes, whom God would punish by the privation of that he most loved. He also took the holy viol of Rhemes to keep it in his chamber, and therein to find treasures of life, which was bootlesse; to teach us there is no greater a Hang-man of our hearts, then inordinate ill rectified desire. The desire of life transported him to extraordinary actions. For having been all his life time very plain in apparell; towards his latter dayes when he went out of his chamber, he sum∣ptuously clothed himself, he shuffled his officers, and changed them out of a certain desire of novelty, that it might be known, he was yet alive: he cared not to be cursed so that men believ'd him to be living. Yet, if he had done all this to lead the life of a man, and of a King with some reasonable contentment; his cares might have been the more excusable. But all this great endeavour was but to drag along a miserable life a∣mong the distrusts of his nearest allies, among jealou∣sies of his own sonne, among woodden and Iron cages wherein he kept a Bishop of Verdun for the space of fourteen years, among chains and clogges of Iron, (which he called his threads) among disconso∣late sadnesses which they sought by all means to sweeten, one while making clowns to sport before him, another while furnishing out a musick of Hogs ranged under a pavillon of velvet, which they prick∣ed through the ears with bodkins to make them chant forth their goodly warblings. What inventions doth a passionate man find out to prolong his punish∣ments!

Next unto life, the most ardent desires are for wealth and honour, which make turbulent and busie spirits to disturb the whole world, vvithout enjoying one hour of repose. One might as soon number the starres and the sands of the sea, as reckon up the souls of this kind, vvith vvhich the Histories of all nations are stuffed. For, in matters that concern particular ends, you on every occasion see children bandied against their pa∣rents, and kinred in mutiny one against another, vvho bely their bloud, betray nature, and devour lands, bloudy and smoking for imaginary pretensions in the matter of their inheritance.

2. But it vvould be very hard to find a spirit more covetous, more factious, (and more tempestuous to en∣crease his estate) then vvas that of Lotharius the sonne of Lewis the Courteous: Hence it was that he shame∣fully degraded, shaved, and shut the King his Father in * 1.20 a Cloister: Hence, that he contrived so many matches, and ploted so many conspiracies: Hence, that he levied so many armies, and gave so many battells: Hence, that he ransack'd so many Churches, put the Clergy to ran∣some, threw down Justice, and exhausted the nobility: Hence it was, that he had alwayes an eye towards the field, and an armed hand to ruine the inheritance of his brothers: Lastly, hence proceeded that bloudy battel of Fontenay, where a hundred thousand men of account died in the place; so many rivers and seas of bloud must an outrageous ambition swim in, which is wedded to particular ends, and covetousnesse.

But howsoever it were, he by an unexpected miracle became victour over these two passions, when (after he had embroiled his whole life) he was sensibly touched with a divine inspiration, and forsook the crown of an Empire, to take that of a Cloister, changing his pride into humility, his impiety into devotion, and his ambi∣tion into penance. It is an Act which onely appertain∣eth to a Hand wholly divine, to draw light out of a Chaos, and pull this serpent out of his cavern; but it was likewise a most incomparable happinesse, to see him to die a good Religious man at the years-end, and to receive the Crown in the beginning of the Carreer, al∣though it be not likely, that those grievous sinnes were so soon expiated, but that a good part of them were re∣served for purifying flames.

3. Forasmuch as concerneth the diversity of ambi∣tions; * 1.21 there are some shallow and fantastick which re∣semble that of a silly Trades-man in Constantinople, who gave all the wealth he had gathered in his whole life, that he might (but so much as one hour) wear the crown on his head, and play a King of the Cards on a * 1.22 stage, where he was used with all manner of scorn: Even so, many Courtiers suffer themselves desperately to runne into certain barren vanities, busying themselves about Genealogies, marriages, extractions, right and left lines; to find, in the Ashes of Troy the great, an ally of their bloud, and to make themselves diadems in picture.

Others are a little Hypocondriack, and have hu∣mours * 1.23 not unlike those of Peregrinus, who presented a letter of challenge in a great assembly of Grecians, in∣viting all the world to come and see him burn alive, wherein he failed not, throwing himself into the fire to gain the glory of a generous man. All our Gladiatours are in this state, who desire to make themselves famous by infamous Duels, and have a greater appetite to live in the fantasie of men (such as themselves) then in their own bodies.

4. There are other covert desires of honour which * 1.24 sleep in the bosome of men consecrated to God, and en∣kindle their flames with the fire of the Incensory, which are much more subtile, and which devour, as fire from heaven.

5. This was verified under the reign of Clotharius * 1.25 in the person of Crodielde a religious woman of the Monastery of Saint Crosse of Poictiers. She was daugh∣ter of Caribert, and following the example of the Queen saint Radegonde, she had generously despised the world, to take a husband in the house of God: But, as these kind of persons are commonly treated with much honour and fair entertainment; their passions sleep like

the silk-worm solded up in its threads which in the end breaks its prison, becomes a butterfly, and flies aloft in the air.

She had a violent desire to hold the highest place, and to yield to none, as far as her power would extend. She patiently enough endured S. Radegunde, because she had been a Queen: but so soon as death had closed up her eyes, and that she saw, without any regard had of Royall bloud, Leuboece was chosen and confirmed for Abbesse of the Monastery; she brake her bands of silk which so tenderly tied her to the Crosse, awakened all her sleeping passions, took the wings of such an ex∣orbitant ambition, that having opened the locks, and broken open the doors, she went out accompanied with Basines her Cousin, and fourty others, Religious Li∣bertines, to provide for her self at Court, and to pro∣cure to be chosen Abbesse.

The good S. Gregory of Tours relateth, that she co∣ming unto his City throughly wet, and much tired with her journey, besought him to take her and her virgins in∣to his protection, against the violences of the Abbesse of Poictiers, who had treated her with all manner of in∣dignity. She added that for this purpose she was go∣ing to the Court, and prayed him, that expecting her return, he would be pleased according to usuall charity to provide for the entertainment of all her religious wo∣men. The good Bishop, who was very busie about his studies, and the function of his charge, would not under∣take the trouble of maintaining so many virgins, which he feared as much as a vast army; but entertained her very canonically, saying he could not approve her going forth, and that if she were offended with her Abbesse, she ought not therefore to forsake her Monastery with∣out leave; but peaceably to inform Moroveus the Bi∣shop, who, by the obligation of his place, was to order all their differences. She, who would not hear speech of this man, answered; He marred all, and that order cannot be expected from the authour of disorder, so that, seeing S. Gregory nothing disposed to feed so ma∣ny mouths; she provided elswhere, and went directly to her uncle King Gontran, leaving all her religious under the charge of Basines. Gontran received her ve∣ry courteously, as his niece, and gave her many gifts; but, having well considered her businesse, he would not meddle with it, saying, It was an Ecclesiasticall af∣fair; and that he would recommend it to the Bishops of the Province; which he most exactly did, without prescribing them any thing to the prejudice of right, or the dishonour of their dignity. Crodielde thereupon returning to Tours found her sisters much impaired, and knew by experience that religious women dis∣solve in secular life, as salt in water, although thence it took its originall. They were so chargeable to all, but especially to saint Gregory, that he prayed and made vows for their departure, which caused them to hasten their retreat to Poictiers, where instead of enter∣ing into the Abbey, they withdrew into the Church of saint Hilary.

In the end, Godegesillus Archbishop of Bourdeaux arrived with his Suffragans, to decide the matter: but these Mistresses (who had good noses, smelling that this assembly was not to favour their faction) levied a regi∣ment of souldiers to defend them, of which they make Childeric to be the Captain; a wicked and a most re∣solute fellow, who failed not to be well followed, such store there was of Frizlers and effeminate youngsters who put themselves into this army of women. The Bi∣shops failed not to march directly towards them, ac∣companied with the Clergy, and a great multitude of people, to summon them to reenter into the Monastery; but this Amazon instantly commanded her souldiers to strike, which they did vvith so much violence, that the Cros••ers and banners seeing themselves so unexpectedly charged, began to totter; the Bishops, the Priests and Deacons fled: There vvas a generall dissipation of the people, and many vvere vvounded in the place, the Church it self being stained vvith humane bloud. Cro∣dielde running on to the highest degree of insolency, as if she had been puffed up vvith her victory, entreth in∣to the Monastery with her Hacksters, and takes her Abbesse, who is dragged by the hair, used with all hi∣deous extremities, and confined to a prison. She cau∣sed all the religious women to come who had opposed her, she torments them with sundry tortures, layes hold of the charters, seizeth on all the papers, maketh her self Abbesse; and bearing a barbarous soul in the heart of a woman, exerciseth rigours and cruelties which struck horrour into all the world. The Bishops had no other defence, but the Thunders of Excommu∣nication, of which these creatures, abandoned by God, made very little account. Macon Governour of Poi∣ctiers was entreated to use a strong hand, but he excu∣sed himself, saying, he would not contend with the daughter of a King, without commission. But it was not fit, matters should so continue; and honest men unable any longer to see the Church groan under an unheard of Tyranny, implore by most humble suppli∣cations the aid of three Kings, Clotharius, Gontran, and Childebert, who being sensibly touched with these disorders gave large Commissions, power, and com∣mandment to Governours to assist the Bishops of Tours, Colen, and Poictiers, who were appointed to determine this difference. Order is at this time well observed, Justice is there supported by force: the gal∣lants, who had adhered to the faction of the nunnes, scatter under the terrour of arms and Royall authori∣ty. This Empresse of Rebels is taken, and carried to the Councell to give an account of her deportments. She comes thither in an audacious manner, retaining still something of her arrogancy and insupportable haughtinesse, even in her depression; and after she had employed arms, she skirmisheth, what she could, with her tongue; which was by falling on the life and manners of her Abbesse, whom she accused of ma∣ny trifling things, reproching her (among other points) to have made a garment for her niece of a Cope ta∣ken out of the Treasury of the Church, which was false; to have caused secular persons to eat at her Ta∣ble; to have a bath in the Monastery, and to play at Chesse. For this required to have her deposed, that she might be put into her place: wherein it plainly ap∣peareth, that ambition is not onely furious, but blind in its fury. She who swallowed Camells, maketh an anatomy of a fly: she who was defiled with the crimes of Tyrants, reprehendeth slight recreations which had been permitted under the government of S. Radegonde. The Abbesse replied very modestly to all her objecti∣ons, and made her innocency appear as bright as the rayes of the sunne, whereupon she was reestablished with honour and applause in her dignity; and the other condemned to ask her pardon, and to submit to her commands: To which she stoutly answered, she would never do it, and that they should rather advise upon the means of putting the Abbesse to death, then to use her in such sort. But she persisting in this obduratenesse is again deprived of the communion of the Church, se∣parated from all her complices who are placed in di∣verse Monasteries there to do penance: yet she still finding her self to be supported by some, by reason of her noble extraction; on a time stole her self from the just punishment of evil carriage, and fled with her Cousin to Childeberts Court, where being not able any longer to raise storms, she was constrained to be quiet, rather for want of force, then through

the defect of courage. One may by this proceeding see the Tempests which arise from ill rectified desires, when they are underpropped by some manner of power, and that there is nothing so sovereign, as in their root to mortifie them.

5. But they never are so insolent, as when they * 1.26 bud in the hearts of people of base extraction, who behold themselves unexpecteoly raised to some extra∣ordinary favour.

S. Lewis had taken into his friendship his Chirur∣gion named Peter La Brosse, because, besides the expe∣rience he had in his profession, he had made himself praise-worthy for the goodnesse of his wit and great loyalty. This favour mounted much higher under Philip the Third, successour of S. Lewis: for, he not content to honour this man with a particular affection; bestowed benefits upon him with such an inestimable profusion, that he raised him to the dignity of Chamberlain, and conferred honours and largesses upon all his kindred. This fellow seeing the young King had not the mo∣deration of the father, to proportion his affections to his reputation and the good of his state; usurped upon his spirit, entred into all his secrets, and needs would intermeddle in State-affairs, from which his birth and the much limited capacity of his wit ought to have deterred him.

The King had in a second wedlock married a most virtuous Princesse, Mary of Brabant, who held in his heart that place which the Law of God and the Sacrament of Marriage gave her. It is a wonder, how this child of the Earth entreth hereby into jealousies, and thought the tender affections of the King towards his dearest spouse might lessen the good favours of his Master, whom he was desirous to possesse in the title of a Sovereign.

He sought to cast the apple of discord into so happy a marriage: and, seeing this knot could not be broken but with much labour, having a soul sold to Iniquity; it is thought he found means to poyson Lewis eldest son of Philip, and of Isabel his first wife. This young Prince is by a sudden death taken away to the infinite grief of all the Court: Physicians being consulted with upon it, judge his life was shortned by poyson, not knowing the authour of so detestable a crime. The wicked man in the mean time gives close counter∣blows, and under-hand fixeth this suspicion upon the innocent Queen. And, albeit, her behaviour (which did print innocency on the mild aspect of her face) sufficiently freed her before all good men; yet the inte∣rest which commonly step-mothers have in the death of their husbands children, and the subtil slights of this devil (who coloured the matter with zeal of publick good) began to blemish a life which was as free from stains, as the brightest stars. The King is already half wavering, but loth to precipitate any thing in an affair of such importance, he resolved to consult with the Oracles of that time, and to have recourse to the lights of heaven, since they on earth were eclipsed. There was in those dayes a religious woman in Flanders, who was thought to be endowed with the spirit of Prophesie, and to tell the most hidden things; to whom he resolved to send the Abbot of S. Denis to satisfie him in the truth of the fact. La Brosse, who expected a more speedying dispatch upon his informations, began to be troubled, and fearing this Prophetesse might marre all; so wrought, that the Bishop of Bayeux his kinsman agreed with the Abbot to undertake the journey of Flanders with him. He being very subtil, sought to prevent the Virgin, and to accommodate her to his likings, wherein he could not prevail according to his wicked purpose; and it is likewise thought, she let him see presumptions pregnant enough against La Brosse his kinsman. But he, surprizing her by way of con∣science, enjoyned her silence, saying, It was not fit for her to speak, since her speech might peradventure be the cause of the death of a man whom she could not expose to this danger without mortall sin. The Abbot, being come to acquit himself of his Commission, found her wholly reserved, and could get nothing out of her, which made him to suspect some deceit. Both of them returned to the Court, where the Bishop, being que∣stioned by the King concerning his proceedings, saith, the religious woman had told him things under the se∣cret of Confession, which was not fit for him to re∣veal. To which Philip readily replied, that he sent him not to hear her Confession, but to know the revelations she had from God in the discharge of Innocents. The Abbot said aloud, he well perceived there was jugling in the Bishops proceeding, and that he went not sin∣cerely to work, which was the cause that a second Em∣bassage was appointed to this religious creature, where∣of Theobald Bishop of Dol, and Arnulph a Knight of the Templers, had the Commission; and they so well understood how to handle the matter, that she spake in these terms. Tell the King, If any one hath spoken to him in an ill sense of the Queen his wife; let him not believe it: for she is truly, and sincerely good, and cordially faithfull towards him and his, her virtue cannot be obscured by the darknesse of Calumny, This answer cured Philips mind in the mat∣ter of suspicion against Mary, and turned it upon his bad servants, although the want of proof permit∣ted him not, to hazard the punishment was due to them.

But God, who draweth brightnesse out of the bosome of darknesse, discovered the mischief of La Brosse by a notable accident. One of his trusty friends passing by the Abbey of S. Peter at Melun is surpri∣zed by a sharp sicknesse; which made him think upon his last passage by the assistance of good Religious men of that Monastery; and finding himself touched to the quick with remorse of conscience, he declared his crime, and gave a little Casket to a Religious man who heard his Confession, charging him to give it to the King with his own hands, and to no other; which he very faithfully did; and when they had opened this box of Pandora, there were discovered all the mis∣chiefs and practices of La Brosse, and his hopes to be dissolved. For he was presently put in prison and brought to his triall, which was followed by a Sen∣tence that condemned him to be hanged and strangled on a gallows of Felons. Here it was where the ambi∣tious desires of this disloyall soul were to deter∣mine, who found that worldly fortunes in which God is not, are grosse smokes that produce nought but tempests.

6. To conclude; we find (in the last order) bloudy * 1.27 and furious ambitions which cause revolutions of Em∣pire, and shake the pillars of the earth: Nicetas obser∣veth one very terrible, wherein the French were witnes∣ses, arbitratours, and revengers.

During the expedition they made in the Land under Philip Gods-guift, there appeared a strange accident, and a horrible confusion in the state of the Eastern Empire. Isaac Comnenus, who held the reins of the Empire, is menaced much misery by his nearest allies, and those whom he had advanced to the greatest digni∣ties. He thereupon consulteth with a South-sayer, who, among popular spirits, was in great reputation, but who, according to the opinion of Nicetas, was a cheating Imposter that sought to passe for a Prophet, although his words consisted of a thousand falshoods. The Emperour with much courtesie having saluted him; he disposed himself to leap, and to expresse

postures which savoured more of a man possessed and frantick, then of a prophet: notwithstanding, without saying any thing else, he threw his staffe at the Em∣perours Image, and (for an ill presage) put out the eyes of it. Isaac Comnenus, making no account here of con∣temneth the Southsayer, and in few dayes is deprived of the Empire and of his eyes (by a horrible conspiracy of Alexius his nearest kinsman) and in this condition confined to a loathsome prison all the rest of his life. The tyrant (who had put out his eyes) takes his bloudy spoil, and finding no resistance, possesseth himself of the throne of Constantinople.

Alexis, son of the Emperour made blind, escaped * 1.28 out of the chains and hand of the parricide his uncle, and goes to the French Camp, where he made a la∣mentable narration of his disasters. He prayes, he beseecheth, he conjureth these brave Conquerours by all things the most sacred, to take pity upon a miserable Emperour, and to succour his father against the most execrable treachery that ever was practised in the world, saying, It onely belonged to them to trample dragons, and monsters, under-foot. Besides the glory of this action; he promiseth them wonders, arms, ships, munition, to advance the design they had for the con∣quest of the holy Land. The French were divided in opinion upon this businesse: some desiring to pursue their journey, others judging, this occasion well deser∣ved to stay them, there being not any actions in the world more glorious, then to do Justice to the afflicted, dispossesse bloudy usurpers of Empires, and to restore true Kings into that rank which nature and the consent of people had given them. This Faction carried it, and ours, using the advantage which their first fervours afforded them, put themselves presently in a readinesse to take Constantinople. One who should well weigh the exploits of arms they did in six dayes, would think their army had consisted of Giants, who bare Moun∣tains and piled them one upon another, to over-look the strongest Citadels in the world. What they did ex∣ceedeth ordinary prodigies, and will scarcely find credit with posterity. Two thousand foot, separated from the rest of the army, aided onely by five hundred horse, entred into a city, wherein there were threescore thou∣sand horse, and four hundred thousand souls able to bear arms. This so filled minds with terrour, that the ty∣rant, as timorous in warre as he had been violent in peace, leaves his place without resistance, and put∣ting his richest treasures into covert, he goes to sea, in an instant to change a great Empire into Banishment.

He went out at one gate, and young Alexis entred in by the other, causing his troups to march in good or∣der, and was with applause received by the chief Citi∣zens who had used much compassion in the afflictions of his Father. There was then seen a strange alteration, when they went to take this poor blind Emperour out of prison, to carry him in triumph to his throne; he thought himself a sleep, and in a dream, and imagined it so sweet, that he in his blindnesse feared the day∣light. He learned from his son all the successe of this negotiation, and the valor us atchievements of the French. He knew not what he should believe, what he might hope, nor what to admire. A world of wonders overwhelm his mind; and more then ever he bewaileth the losse of his eyes, to behold himself bereft of the sight of these incomparable men who seemed to be sent from heaven.

Finally, he saith, he is satiated with Empire and worldly greatnesse, and that he putteth all his state into the hands of his son. His son embraceth him with all unexpressible tendernesse, calling him his Lord and Fa∣ther, and protesting he will not intermeddle with any thing of the Empire, but the cares, whilst he liveth, leaving the dignity to his discretion who had given him birth.

The Father, on the other side, answered, that the piety of his son was more to him then all Empires, and that he hereafter should repute himself the happiest man in the world, being enlightned by the raies of such virtue in the deprivation of temporall light. This was an admirable strife, which made it appear that if there be impetuous desires in the Courts of great men, there are likewise sometimes to be found moderations, which surpasse all mens imagination. I am not ignorant Ni∣cetas saith, that this affection afterward turned into jea∣lousie; but we must note this Authour is passionate against Alexis and his father, by reason of the amity he contracted with strangers. The French judged it fit that the son should reign by the authority of the father, and in respect of his infirmities, take the whole govern∣ment of the State into his hand, which he did, and all seemed to prosper in his beginnings; when, after the re∣treat of ours, who had made havock enough in the city, out of the liberty of arms; rebels stirred, who put the whole city into combustion, exciting it against the young Emperour, and saying, that under pretext of Publick good, he had called in strangers to the saccage of his Countrey, which made him unworthy both of Empire and life. The conspiring was so violent, that Alexis, having no leasure to look about him, was be∣trayed by one of his intimate friends named Mursuflus, who, pretending to put him into a place of safety, threw him into an ugly dungeon, where, twice having tried to put him to death by poison, and seeing his plot suc∣ceeded not; he out of a horrid basenesse caused him to be strangled. Deceitfull Felicities of the world! True turrets of Fayeries, which are onely in imagi∣nation! Where shall your allurements prevail from henceforth?

The poor father, hearing the death of his son, and the sudden alteration of affairs, saith,

Good God! to what calamity do you reserve my wretched old age? I have consummated evils, and evils have not yet ended me. I am now but a rotten trunk deprived of vigour, and the functions of life; and if I have any feeling, it is onely of my miseries. Take this soul which is on my lips and which is over-toiled with worldly Empires, and put it in a place where it may no longer fear either hostilities or treasons. Ah! Poor son, thou art passed away like froth on the wa∣ter, and Fortune did not raise thee within the imaginary Circuit of her Empire, but to cast thee down head∣long. I bewail not my blindnesse, it is the happiest of my evils, since it bereaves me the aspect of the horrible accidents which by heap passe through my ears. Dear Sonne! thou hast out-stripped me; but, I follow thee with a confident pace into the shades of death, which shall for me hereafter be the best of lives.

He gave up the ghost in these anguishes, whilst the city of Constantinople was divided by a thousand Fa∣ctions, and turmoiled with fatall convulsions which mi∣nistred matter of presage of the change of Empire.

The people, weary of the government of the An∣gels (whose names were Isaac and Alexis) had alrea∣dy chosen one called Canabus, a man before unknown, who was quickly put down by the power and violence of Mursuflus. He was a Prince arrogant, inconti∣nent, and more cunning then prudent; who kept not long that Sceptre which he by such wickednesse had usurped. For, scarcely two moneths and a half were past, but that the French returned, and besieged Con∣stantinople which the new tyrant had already very well fortified. But the Grecians then were so cowardous

and affrighted that they made very little resistance, and flew before the French, and other Westrin and Nor∣them people, as before so many Giants. Mursuflus, as faint-harted in peril as he had been adventurous to commit a treason, puts himself upon the sea to flie into Morea; but is taken, and slain by the divine Venge∣ance which perpetually hath an armed hand over su∣rious and bloody ambitions. The City and Empire of Constantinople yield, in the end, to the Western power: and Baldwin Earl of Flanders is chosen Em∣perour by the consent of all the army. Nicetas a Greek Authour, who lived at that time, deploreth this change with the Lamentations of Jeremy. But it was Gods judgement, who would purifie the Eastern Throne defiled by so many wicked actions, making a Prince so chast to sit thereon, that Nicetas himself is enforced to praise and admire his singular continency, as I have observed in my first Treatise.

Throughout all these Discourse we now see how the desires of the ambitious are chastised, and how their hopes being vain, their joyes are likewise short and unhappy.

7. Historians give most of our Kings this praise, that they never had turbulent and troublesome spirits; but * 1.29 loved Peace, and mainteined Justice.

The History of the Fathers of the West assures us, that in the generall combustion of Wars between the French and the English, there was a good Hermite na∣med John of Gaunt, who ceased not to beseech heaven to quench the fire of these fatall Divisions, & that he was sent by God to meditate Peace between the two Kings.

He first went to our Charles the Seventh, whom he found infinitly disposed to all the conditions of a good Peace, and this gave him occasion to promise him infi∣nite many benedictions from heaven, that he should have a Son (successour of his Estates) to crown his Fe∣licities: which happened to him (as being a voyce from God, and an Oracle of Truth.) But when the Religious man came to the King of England, he would in no sort hearken to him, but caused him to be used in a manner unworthy his person; which drew the anger of God upon the Kingdome, and occasioned him great calamities.

This subject is so plentifull, that I am willing to ab∣breviate it: ambitious desires being so frequent that they have more need to be corrected, then sought into.

Observations upon ANGER and REVENGE.

BEhold here the Passion from whence sparkles, flames, and coals proceed, which make horrible havock, unlesse Grace and Reason cause some temper.

There is not any devil more familiar in Court, more injurious to civil conversation, more pernicious to States, then Choler and Revenge. Pride, which is born with the most eminent conditions, nourisheth it, flat∣terers enkindle it, insolent tongues sharpen it, fire and sword end it.

In some it is haughty and cruel; as it appeared in Dagobert, a young Prince, son of Clotharius the Se∣cond, who in his tendrest years, had (I know not what) of salvage in him, which savoured of the manners of Paganisme, or the humours of his Grandmother Fre∣degond; * 1.30 albeit, he afterward gained victories over him∣self. The King his Father had appointed him two Governours; Arnold, to rectifie his manners; Sadra∣gesillus, to breed him up to Armes and Court-like be∣haviour. The first governed him like the Sun; the se∣cond, as the Northern-wind.

The one insinuated himself with much sweetnesse; the other undertook him with too proud and arrogant an apgroach, which in him rather caused Aversion, then * 1.31 Instruction. From whence it came to passe, that he be∣ing one day invited to the Princes Table, where he did eat apart, as the Kings son: he placed himself right ouer against him, took Dagoberts glasse and drank to him: wherewith he was so desperately offended, that instantly he fell upon him, and taking a knife on the table, cut off his beard, and most contemptuonsly dis∣figured him.

Sadragesillus, in this plight, presented himselfe to King Clotharius, who was likewise enraged, and cau∣sed his son to be pursued, commanding his Guard to apprehend him: but he saved himself in the Sanctuary of Montmartre under the protection of S. Denis, untill his fathers anger was pacified, who spared not to give him a sharp reprehension and to raise Sadragesil∣lus to great dignities, to take away the acerbities of the affront he had received.

Another time, S. Arnold asking leave of the same Dagobert to retire from Court, out of the desire he had to passe the rest of his dayes in sweet solitude; the King many times denied him: and he growing a little earnest in a good cause; he furiously draws froth his sword, threatning to kill him if he persisted in this re∣quest. A Lord there present stayed the blow, and the Queen, shewing her husband the unworthinesse of his Choler, so gained him, that he came to himself, gave his Master full satisfaction, and permitted him to go whither he thought good, most affectionately recom∣mending his person and state to him.

Seneca hath well said, that Choler was not a sign of a courageous, but a swoln spirit: as it by experience appeared in Dagobert who was little war-like. For, being but in one piece of service against the Saxons, where he received a very slight hurt; he made so many ceremonies about it, that he sent a lock of his bloudy hair to his father to implore his aid. It is true that this Prince, being in his youth a little unruly, heark∣ned afterward to the good reasons of his Councel, and became very temperate.

2. There are Martiall angers which are generous * 1.32 and bold, when a heart upon a good occasion is en∣flamed to the avengement of some Injustice; as it hap∣pened to Clotharius the Second, who coming to succour his son Dagobert presently appeared marching along the Rhine, and made himself remarkable by a notable head of hair: whereupon, Bertrand, Captain of the Saxons, darting some insolent words at him; the King suddenly passed the river with great danger of his per∣son, observeth his enemy, pursues him, strikes him down from his horse, and cuts off his head, which he fixed on the top of a launce, to fill the Saxon Army with ter∣rour. Thus should the anger of a great Prince be bent against proud and unjust adversaries, not against his own Subjects. This spurre hath sometimes added va∣lour to the sweetest natures; witnesse Charles the Sim∣ple, * 1.33 who seeing that Robert had gathered together a huge army of Rebels against him, passed the river of Aisne to charge him; and the other putting himself in∣to a readinesse to resist him, animating his own side, and braving in the head of his army; Charles looked him in the face, as the Butt against which he should unburden all his gall, spurs forward directly towards

him, and so succesfully hits him with a thrust of his lance in the mouth, that he tore out his tongue and killed him.

3. Yet Choler is extremely dangerous in matter of Arms, especially in things where some resolution is to be taken with counsel and maturity. For it troubleth * 1.34 the art (said an Antient) and many times causeth er∣rours irreparable.

This is but too much verified in the fatall day of Crescy-field, where Philip of Valois, one of the most valiant Monarchs which ever handled Sceptre, gave battel to Edward King of England. The English Army bravely encamped, heard Masse, leasurely took its repast, and coolely expected the enemy, to fight with firm footing: at which time, our Philip animated with anger, and above all, fearing lest the English might escape him hastned his army what he could, causing it to march, and tyring it out on the day of battel. The Monk Basellus, a man wel experienced in feats of arms, * 1.35 shewed him, it were much better to expect till morn∣ing: on which he seemed to be resolved; but this Choler had already put fire into his souldiers: and al∣though some cryed out, Stay, Ensign-bearers; yet those who marched before were so afraid to be out-gone by them who followed, that they had not the patience. When they came to joyn battel, the Genoway Archers who were in the French army, protested aloud, they were not able to do their duty, and instantly disbanded; whereupon the King grew into a fresh anger, and com∣manded to cut them in pieces, which with all possible violence was executed; ours being cruelly bent to de∣vour their members, whilst the arrows of the enemy fell upon them like hail, and the horse gauled with shot, horribly neighing ran away with their riders, and all the place was covered with dead bodies. This trouble of mind cost the losse of a battel, wherein (Froissard saith) were eight French against one Eng∣lish-man, and thirty thousand men (where among others, the King of Bohemia, and Charles Count of Alencon the Kings brother) were slaine in the place. Behold the disasters of an il-governed Passion, which never is well knowne but by the experience of its misery.

4. There are other nice and haughty Cholers, which are brought forth in the Curiosities of an im∣perious life, as it happened to many Emperours who took a glory in being angry, and to make their brutish∣nesse famous by bloudy effects. Bajazet shewing one day the pleasure of hawking to the Count of Nevers, * 1.36 caused almost two thousand Falconers to be killed, for a hawk which had not flown well. He well deserved to be shut up in a cage (as he was afterward) for sporting with such prodigality with humane blood. It is much more intolerable, when Christian Princes flie out as did Lewis the young, who (being offended by Theobald Count of Champaigne) entred into his territory, and made strange spoil, even to the setting of the great Church of Vitry a fire, and therein burning fifteen hundred men, who fled into it as into a San∣ctuary. But this enraged passion knew no distinction between sacred and profane, and the confusion of this fancy confounded heaven and earth. Good French men abhorred an act so barbarous, and S. Bernard (who then flourished) made the thunders of Gods * 1.37 judgements to roar in the Kings ear, wherewith he was so terrified, that re-entring into himselfe, he fell into a deep melancholy, which caused his mind to make a divorce from all worldly joyes, wherewith he became so dejected, that he was like to die, had not S. Bernard sought to cure the wound he gave, shewing that the true penitent ought to be sad without; discomfort; humble, without sottishnesse; timorous, without de∣spair: and that the grief of his fall should not exclude the hope of his rising again.

But they are more tolerable who punish themselves with their own choler, as Henry King of England, that bit his lips gnashed his teeth, pulled off his hair, threw his bed and clothes on the ground, eat straw and hay to expresse his impetuous passion.

5. They who are arrogant, and given to contemne * 1.38 and flout others, draw fire and poison on their heads when they assail impatient natures, which have not learnt to feed themselves with affronts and injuries.

A word flying like a spark of fire raiseth flames * 1.39 which are not quenched but with great effusion of bloud. Philip the first, hearing that VVilliam the Con∣querour, who was very grosse, would not suffer any man to see him, by reason of a corporall infirmity; It is no wonder (saith he) if this big man be in the end brought a bed. This being told to the other, who was of a capricious spirit, he protested he would rise from his child-bed, but with so many torches and lights, that he would carry fire into the bosome of France. And verily he failed not therein, and in this fury so heated himselfe, that he died in proper flames. A man hath little to do to enkindle a War at the charge of so many lives, for a jest, a cold countenance, a letter not written obsequiously enough, for a word inconsiderate.

6. The Flemings were to blame when revolted a∣gainst * 1.40 Philip of Valois; they out of derision called him The found King, and advanced a great Cock on their principall standard, the device whereof was, that * 1.41 when he should crow, the found King should enter into their city. This so exasperated his great Courage, that he waged them a battel, and with such fury de∣feated them, that Froissard assureth, that of a huge army of Rebels, there was not one left who became not a victime of his vengeance. Lewis Outre-mer was detained prisoner at Roan, for having in his anger spo∣ken injuriously against Richard, the young Duke of Normandy. And Francis the First ruined all his af∣fairs, for having handled Charles Duke of Bourbon with some manner of indignity, therein complying with the humour of the Queen his Mother.

7. The Anger of potent women is (above all) dread∣full, when they are not with-held by considerations of * 1.42 conscience, because they have a certain appetite of re∣venge, which exceedeth all may be imagined. Queen Eleonor, wife of Lewis the Young, who had as violent * 1.43 a spirit as ever animated the body of a woman, seeing her self repudiated by her husband, albeit, upon most just reason, conceived such rage & fury against France, that being afterward remarried to Henry of England, she incestantly stirred up all the powers of that King∣dome to our ruine, and sowed the first seeds of Warre, * 1.44 which, the continuance of three hundred years; which, an infinite number of fights and battels; which, the reve∣rence due to Religion; the knot of mutuall Alliances, and Oath interposed in sixscore Treaties; could not wholly extinguish.

8. There are other angers free and simple, which * 1.45 proceed from an indiscreet goodnesse, but which fail not to occasion much evil to themselves when they assail eminent and vindicative people. It was the misery of poore Enguerrand of Marigny, who having gover∣ned * 1.46 the Finances under Philip the Pair (and afterward seeing himself persecuted by Charles of Valois unkle of Lewis Hutin Heir of a Crown) was transported with so much heat, that it cost him his life.

For this Prince sharply asking an account of him of the treasures of the deceased King; he freely answer∣ed, It is to you (Sir) I have given a good part of them, and the rest hath been employed in the Kings affaires, Whereupon Charles giving him the lie; the

other transported with passion, had the boldnesse to say unto him, By God, It is you your self, Sir. This reply being of it self very insolent, and spoken at a time when all conspired to his ruine, sent him to the Gallows of Montfaucon, which he had caused to be built in his greatest authority. Men cold, and well acquainted with affairs, who commonly think much, never speak ill of them that can hurt them.

9. All these extravagancies which we have produ∣ced, have proceeded from fervour; but there are others cold, and malign, as are Aversions and Hatred, which are no other then inveterate and hardened angers, so much the more dangerous as they proceed from a spi∣rit more deep, and are plotted with more time and pre∣paration.

So did Lewis the Eleventh who had many Laby∣rinths in his heart wherein he kep his revenges, and of∣tentimes took delight to send them abroad with cere∣mony and pomp, to take the more pleasure in them. So soon as he was King, he set himself to revenge his inju∣ries, as if power given from heaven ought to be an in∣strument of passion. He persecuted a good subject (which was the Count of Dammartin) for no other crime, but for having obeyed and executed the order of Charls the Seventh who had sent him into Daulphine, to stop Le∣wis who then turmoiled and perplexed the King his fa∣ther. He prevented this plot, and fled into Flanders; yet ceased he not afterward to hate this good servant: and albeit he prostrated himself at his feet, praying him to forget what was past; yet he caused his processe to be made in Parliament, upon accusations, which did more manifest the Passion of the King, then any crime in the life of the Count. Notwithstanding, the close practise was so great that he was condemned to death: and although Lewis, terrified by his own Conscience and the generall opinion, would not have it to proceed any further; yet he confined him to the Bastile, where he had spent the rest of his dayes if he had not found means to save himself. But whom would he spare who put away and deprived of Office his best ser∣vants, for having hindered him during his sicknesse to come near unto a Window, out of the care they had of his health? This passion was a Devil in the heart of this Prince, which made him odious to ma∣ny, and filled his whole life with disturbance and a∣cerbity.

10. A revengefull spirit spares nothing to please it * 1.47 self, and oft-times openeth precipices to fill them with death and ruine. It is a strange thing; that one sole * 1.48 Abbot of Saint German de Prez named Gaulin had almost ruined the whole Kingdome of France, for ha∣ving been bereaved of an Abbacy. He many years re∣volved his revenge, and after the death of Lewis le Be∣gue (under whom he had received the injury which he proposed to himself) he went to Lewis the German, whom he enflamed with so much cunning to the con∣quest of the Kingdome of France, that he set a huge army on foot to surprize the heir of the Crown in the Confusion of his Affairs: and the trouble was so great, that needs must Lorraigne be cut off from the Kingdome of France, to give it to this Con∣querour.

So did John Prochytas the Sicilian, who (having been deprived of his estate by Charles of Anjou) con∣ceived a mortall enmity against the French, which made him contrive that bloudy Tragedy of Sicilian Vespres. This unfortunate man, disguising himself in the habit of a Franciscan, went to Peter of Arragon, to shew him the means how to invade Sicily: and seeing that he, and his wife Queen Constance, bent all their endea∣vour thereto, he ceased not to stir up the Countrey, where he had much credit, and used so many engines, that in the end he caused one of the most horrible mas∣sactes which was ever projected. On an Easter-day, in the time of Vespres, the French had all their throats cut throughout the Island of Sicily. No age, sex, condition, nobility, nor religious were spared. The black spirit of the Abysle drew men from the Altar to runne to the sword, which they indifferently thrust into the bosome of their guests: nor were so many cryes and lamenta∣tions nor such images of death flying before their eyes able to wound their hearts with one sole touch of com∣passion which useth to move the most unnaturall. Rage (blown by the breath of the most cruell furies of Hell) made them to open the bellies of women, and to dig into their entrails to tear thence little Infants conceived of French bloud. It caused the most secret sanctuaries of nature to be violated, to put those to death, who had not (as yet) the first taste of life. Shall we not then say, that the passion of revenge, which hath taken root in a soul half damned, is the most fatall instru∣ment that Hell can invent to overthrow the Empire of Christianity?

11. All these accidents well considered are sufficient to moderate the passions which make so much noyse a∣mong mankind. But let us consider before we go off this stage, that Anger and Revenge are not creatures in∣vincible to Courtiers who yet retein som Character of Christianity.

Robert, one of the greatest Kings that ever ware the Crown of France, saw his two sonnes bandied against * 1.49 him, when (provoked by the practises of the Queen * 1.50 their mother, who ceased not to insult over them) they ran to the field with some tumultuary troops, and be∣gan to exercise acts of hostility which made them very guilty. The father (incensed by their rebellion, and forci∣bly urged by the sting of the mothers revenge) speedi∣ly prepares an army, and entreth into Burgundy to sur∣prise and chastise them. Thereupon William Abbot of S. Benigne of Dion goeth to him, and shews that these disorders were an effect of the divine Providence which we should rather appease by penance, then irritate by anger: that, if his Majesty would call to mind, he should find that his youth was not exempt from er∣rours committed by the inconsideration of age, and the practise of evil counsels: that he ought not to revenge with sword and fire that which he had suffered in his own person; and that as he would not any should en∣terprise upon his hereditary possession; so it was fit, not to meddle with that which was Gods, who had re∣served vengeance to himself. This speech had such po∣wer that the good King was instantly appeased; caused his children to come, embraced them with paternall af∣fection, and received them into favour, tying their re∣conciliation with an indissoluble knot. What can one answer to the mildnesse of a King accompanied with so much power and wisdome, but confesse that pardon is not a thing impossible? since this great Prince upon the words of a religious man layes down arms, and dissipateth all his anger, as waves break at the foot of rocks.

12. We must confesse, that Regality was never * 1.51 seen allyed to a spirit more mild and peaceable, and that his actions should rather be matter of admiration then example. He pardoned twelve murtherers (who had a purpose to attempt upon his life) after he had caused them to confesse and communicate; saying, it was not reasonable to condemn those whom the Church had ab∣solved, and to afflict death upon such as had received the bread of life. But, what would not he have done, who, surprising a rogue which had cut away half of his cloke furred with Ermins, said mildely to him, Save thy self, and leave the rest for another who may have need of it!

13. This mildnesse is very like to that of Henry the First, afterward King of England, who seeing his Fa∣thers body to be stayed in open street (upon the instant of his obsequies) and this by a mean Citizen who com∣plained the soil of the land where the dead (which was William the Conquerour) was to be interred was his Ancestours inheritance; he was nothing at all moved, but presently commanded his Treasurer to satisfie the Creditour, and to prosecute the pomp of his Fu∣nerals.

14. Lewis the Eleventh did a King-like act, to∣wards * 1.52 the ashes of the fair Agnes, who had possessed the heart of his father Charls the Seventh, and had per∣secuted him (the son) in her life-time. At her death she gave threescore thousand crowns for a foundation to the Cannons of Loches; to pray, and to build a Tomb for her in the midst of the Church. These men (prudent ac∣cording to the world) accommodating themselves to the time, and honouring this rising Sun (mounted to the throne of the Kingdome, after the death of his father) presented themselves before him, asking, they might be permitted to demolish the tomb of this woman who had so ill used him: but he with incredible generosity answered, he made not war against the dead, and that so far was he from ruining the monuments of Agnes, that he would command his Treasurer to give them six thousand florins to preserve them.

15. Sage and devout women, albeit the sex is too apt * 1.53 for revenge, fail not to re-enter into themselves, and blame their proceedings, when passion hath transported them out of the lists of reason. Anne of Brittain seeing King Lewis the Twelfth very sick and in dan∣ger of his life (upon the consideration that he left her no male-child) caused a Ship to be rigged out, la∣den with great riches which she sent into her dear coun∣trey, of purpose to retire thither so soon as the King were dead.

But, the Marshall de Gié, who commanded in a Ci∣ty of passage, judging that his charge obliged him to let nothing passe out of the Kingdome during the Kings sicknesse, did without any other order upon this resolu∣tion arrest all the goods of the poor Queen. She was a Bee which lived in the sweetnesse of devotion; but yet had her sting: so that being much provoked by this act, she pursued the Marshall, and made him come to a tri∣all at the Parliament of Tholose, where he was con∣demned to be banished out of France: But the good Queen calling back reason (after the stirring of her choler with-held the blow) granted liberty to the delin∣quent; protested he was a worthy Lord, and had pro∣ceeded in all he had done according to the rules of state. Whence it appeareth, that those cruell souls are most unreasonable which persist in hating, because they have once begun; and never lay down a wicked hatred, for which they have no other reason but their own wic∣kednesse.

16. Lewis the Twelfth her husband might have * 1.54 taught her this lesson, who having received ill measure under Charls the Eighth his Predecessour when he was Duke of Orleans, some flatterers counselling him to ennoble his entry to the Crown by the beating down his adversaries, answered in this memorable manner.

That it was not fit for a King of France to revenge the quarrels of the Duke of Orleans; and for this pur∣pose he marked with a crosse all the names of his ene∣mies written down on paper: Whereat many wondred, thinking this note promised them nothing but a pair of gallows; which made them presently fly, so much they were urged by their own conscience. But he assembled them all together, and let them understand he had sign∣ed their names with a Crosse, that they therein might behold the lesson which the authour of life dictated un∣to us on the Crosse, which was to forgive those who persecute us. Francis the First, his successour following these steps, pardoned the rebellious Rochellers, moved by the pitifull clamours of a great number of little chil∣dren who cryed for mercy at his entrance into the City. Our most Christian King hath renewed the examples of the like clemency. I speak nothing of the Christian generosity of Henry the Third, who seeing himself ta∣ken away from Throne and Life by a most detestable Parracide, left the revenge thereof to God in the sharp∣nesse of his wound. Henry the Fourth had a soul infinitely mild, and if we find in his life some humane defects, yet therein there are a thousand divine virtues which shadow them by their great lights.

17. But, if we compare goodnesse with offence; * 1.55 scarcely shall we find (throughout all the histories of the Christian world) a Prince who in this point hath equal∣led the virtue of Lewis the milde, son of Charlemaigne. This name cost him an invincible patience, which made it well appear that a nature too easie is exposed to in∣finite difficulties. His own children (Lotharius, Pepin, and Lewis) rebelled against him, and (out of a horrible daring) took Queen Judith from his sides, whom he in a second wedlock had married, caused her by force to take the veil, and holding a dagger at her throat, made her promise to perswade her husband to forsake the world, out of their Ambition to usurp his Sceptre, and to pull the Diademe from his head with hands of Harpies.

The poor Prince saw himself in one night abandon∣ed by his army which slipt away before his eyes, and went to yield themselves to his unnaturall sons: but, some honest men staying about him; he besought and conjured them to save themselves and to leave him a∣lone in perill, since he was the victime of Expiation, and that his sins had reduced him to this Calamity: and verily he went like a victime to the Altar accompanied with the Queen his wife and his grand-child Charles, to render himself up a prisoner into their hands, to whom he had given both livelyhood, and life. This heart truely-mild said by the way to those who lead him, Let my sonnes do what they will with me, and all that God shall permit: I onely pray you (since I have never offended them) not to expose me to the fury of the multitude which commonly are very un∣just to those who are depressed, as you now behold me: and above all, I will ask this favour of them, that they abstain from maiming any member of the Queen my wifes body, whom I know to be most innocent; or pulling out the eyes of Charles my grand-child, for that would to me be more bitter then death. In this manner he came to his sonnes Camp, who hypocriti∣cally received him with all reverence, promising an u∣sage worthy his condition: and in the mean time assem∣bled a venemous Counsell of maligne spirits to degrade him. The sentence was given contrary to all form of Justice, by subjects against their Sovereign Prince; by * 1.56 children against their father; by guilty against the in∣nocent, without hearing him, without seeing him; and on a suddain it was publickly executed at the assembly of Compiegne.

This King, the best in the world, on his knees in the Church, in the presence of his vassals, among an infinite number of people, held a scroule in his hand, which conteined the imaginary causes of his condemnation; they enforced him to read it himself; to open his mouth against his own innocency; to ask forgivenesse of the Assembly which did him an irreparable wrong. Then, to conclude this cruell scene; he is constrained to take off his belt, and to lay it on the Altar; to de∣spoil himself of his Royall Robes, and to take from the hands of certain infamous Prelates a habit of

penance, with which he was put into the hands of the Guard, and a few dayes after, led along in Lotharius his train.

All Histories mourn in the horrour of this narration, and there is not any who in his thoughts condemns not the Authours of this attempt. But this good King (be∣ing re established by the endeavour of his best Sub∣jects) did never pursue his injuries; witnessing in all oc∣casions an extream facility to be reconciled to his chil∣dren: and when, afterward he was upon the point of death, he rallyed together all he had of life, spirits, and strength, to forgive them & asked of God that he would not take vengeance upon their crimes. This was to fulfil the whole law, and to do at the Court all that which the most perfectly religious can perform in a Cloister.

18. I will yet tell you for a conclusion, that there are certain industries, which they who are near great ones may use to appease their Anger, and to divert the perni∣cious effects, by some delay, which is the best Counsel∣lour * 1.57 this furious passion can have.

This is to be seen in the course that Bavalon took * 1.58 with the Duke of Brittaigne. The Prince being offend∣ed with the Count of Clisson Constable of France, re∣solved to take him in a snare, and undo him. To com∣passe this enterprise, he made a great feast, whereto he invited all the principall Lords of Brittaigne; courting Clisson with incomparable courtesie.

After all, he let him see his Castle of Lermine, where leading him from story to story, and from chamber to chamber; he brought him to the chief Turret, praying him to consider the fortifications, to reform the defects, whilst he spake a word to Seigneur Laval, brother in law to Clisson. He no sooner entred in, but he saw himself arrested by the Guard, and put into irons, with commandment given to Mounsieur Bavalon Captain of the Castle, to throw him (the next night) in a sack into the water. Bavalon, who perceived his Master was very quick, and thought that night might give him better counsel, resolved to do nothing. In the mean time solitude and darknesse having recollected the Dukes spirits together which had all day been scattered by the tempest of passion; he found his heart infinitely ballan∣ced between the satisfaction of revenge, and the appre∣hension of inevitable dangers which would wait on it, imagining the shadow of the Constable, already drow∣ned (as he thought) would draw fire, bloud, and ha∣vock upon his desolated Countrey. The hideous visi∣ons which already pitched battell in his distempered brain, the displayed Ensignes, and Armies heaped to∣gether from all parts, drew deep sighs from him which were observed by the gentlemen of his chamber. Bava∣lon about break of day comes into his chamber, and being asked concerning the secret execution of his com∣mand, he answered, It is done, loth to open any more, untill he could clearly look into his masters mind. The Duke upon this word beginneth his sobbs again, with beating his hands, which testified great despair in him. But he insisting, and many times demanding whether Clisson were drowned; The Captain replyed, He was, and that he about mid-night had buried the body, fear∣ing it might be discovered. Then began the Prince a∣fresh to curse, and to abhorre his own anger which had transported him to this out-rage; and said, Would to God, Bavalon, I had believed thee when thou didst counsel me to do nothing, or that thou hadst not be∣lieved me, when I so passionately commanded thee. His trusty servant seeing he spake in good earnest, and that it was time to declare himself, assured him Clisson was alive; and that he had deferred his commandment, out of this consideration, that, if he persisted in the same mind, he should alwayes have means enough to execute him. The Duke (rapt with this prudence) embraced him, and gave him a thousand florins, for finding out so ex∣cellent a remedy for his Passion.

Observations upon ENVY Which draweth along with it Iealousie, Hatred, and Sadnesse.

WE enter into black and Saturnian Passi∣ons, which are Envie, Jealousie, Fear, Sadnesse, and Despair, wherein we shall observe a venemous malignity which replenisheth the heart with plagues, the life with furies, and the world with Tragedies. I will begin this order with two Court-Monks who in their time made a great noyse: one of which being born for cruelty, and bred in mas∣sacres; his life was a continuall crime, and his me∣mory a perpetually execration.

But the other (profiting by the experience of his e∣vils) * 1.59 opened himself a way unto glory, and drew upon him the blessings of posterity. Under the reign of Clo∣tharius the third, Ebroin governed the State in the qua∣lity of the Major of the Palace, who was of a spirit ambitious, cruell, and subtle; valuing nothing above his own ends, and placing conscience under all things in the world. He entred into this charge like a Fox, and swayed therein like a Lion; doing nought else but roar against some, and devour others; there being no po∣wer able enough to bend his pride, as if there were not ri∣ches enough in all the world to satisfie his avarice. God (who often-times suffereth not things violent to be long-lasting) gave an end to his tyranny by the death of his Master, whose reign was short, and life most ob∣scure. He left two sons, the eldest of which bare the name of Childeric, and the youngest was called Thi∣erry. Ebroin seeing himself, like creeping Ivie, (which seeks a pillar for support) not to stand fair in Childerics mind, whether this Prince were too clear sighted, to dis∣cover his jugglings; or whether under the reign of his Father, he had otherwise used him then his condition deserved; it made him arrogantly to adhere to Thier∣ries faction, thinking he had power and credit enough to make an alteration both in nature, and State-affairs. He then raiseth a controversie in a matter which was sufficiently decided by birth, and assembleth the Estates to deliberate upon it; where there were so many crea∣tures, whom he accounted to be obliged to follow his liking, that the palm of so doubtfull a battell seemed to him already absolutely gained.

There was then in France one Leger, a man of great birth, of an excellent spirit, of an eminent virtue, ac∣companied with grace of body, and other parts which made him fit for the Court.

His Uncle, who was a great Prelate, had very nobly bred him, giving him admittance into the Palace and his affairs; but, the sweetnesse of his nature, not born for much trouble, made him addict himself to the Church, and become a religious man, but was after∣ward taken out of his Monastery to be Bishop of Autun.

His degree and merit then obliged him to be present at this Assembly, where it was treated of making a new King: and seeing Ebroin insolently supported the younger to the prejudice of Nature, and the laws of the Kingdome; he undertook to dissolve his busie pra∣ctise, and to reduce misled minds, unto reason. Not∣withstanding this violent Mayor of the palace ceased not openly to declare his design in full Assembly, in favour of Thierry; using many pretexts and co∣lours which put a quite other face upon a businesse so unreasonable. Good men, who more feared his bloudy countenance and his irreconcileable enmities, then approved his reasons; looked one upon another, expecting that some generous soul should stand for truth: and all of them imagined, that having declared themselves with much weaknesse, and small effect; they might not serve so much for a support to Chil∣deric's cause, as for an object of Ebroins revenge. Cruelties and Jealousies often ruine many good af∣fairs; and they took the way to overthrow this, if Leger had not risen up, who spake with so much reason, grace, authority and courage, that he alone gave a countrepoise to Ebroins malice, and drew all the sound∣est in the Assembly to his side: where Ebroins adherents (seeing Truth carried as in Triumph by hands so cou∣rageous) did disband, studying more their own pre∣servation, then to serve his ambition.

Childeric mounts up to the Throne which nature had prepared for him; Ebroin, who knew the main and manifest contradictions he had framed against his right, hath a soul full of affrightments, and al∣ready accounts himself for a dead mad; he searcheth for some sanctuary to hide himself, but findeth none more safe then Religion. Necessity makes a Monk, where piety could never make a Christian. He comes and throweth himself at Childeric's feet, offers him his head and life with most humble submission, by which he begged of the young King, that (if his goodnesse permitted him not to moisten the entrance into his Throne with the bloud of the guilty) his Majesty would please to confine him to a Mona∣stery, to bewail his sinnes, and daily to die as many times, as he should call to mind his own Ingratiude. Childeric (who was not born to bloud, and who at that time had his heart busied enough with the joy of his victory (which is a time when Mildnesse costs him least) permitted him to retire into the Mo∣nastery of Luxeuil in Burgundy. Mean time, Le∣ger (who had given such testimonies of his capacity, Courage, and fidelity) is put into Ebroins place, and undertaketh the absolute government of all the affairs of the Kingdome.

His virtue should have dispensed with him at this time, not to give others occasion to think that he had beaten down Ebroins tyranny, of purpose to raise him∣self upon his ruines. But there are certain chains of Adamantin charges, and Court-dignities, which often∣times captive the most austere. His Rivall bursts with anger to see him lifted up to this dignity, when his ca∣lamity enforced him to be tyed to a Coul, which is a piece he never had thought was for his purpose. He was a strange Hermit, like to Nicephorus (Gregoras his fox) who, being blacked over with ink, counter∣feited the Monk, and told the poultrey, he much re∣pented him to have used them so ill, but that hereafter they might confidently converse with him, since his habit and condition permitted him not to live other∣wise then innocently. This miserable man had no other repentance, but that he had not prospered in his ambition; no other poverty, then the impotency of taking away others mens goods; no other obedience, then the hypocrisie of his submission; no other singing, then the sorrows of his fortune; and no other Reli∣gion, but his habite. All his prayers tended to no∣thing else but to demand some change of State, that he might change his fortune; whereas Leger (taking wayes quite contrary in his government) made Religi∣on, Justice, and Peace to flourish.

His zeal opposed impiety; his equity, injustice; his sweetnesse, violence; and his authority carried all that was reasonable. But, there is a certain unhappinesse in the mannage of state-affairs which makes a man hate his own quiet; and virtue too regular, is often trouble∣some even to those it intends to oblige.

Leger is offensive to some, because he makes them more honest then they would be: to others, because his lights manifest their darknesse; whilst others think that, in the newnesse and change of a Minister of State, they shall better make up their own reckoning. Childeric himself takes a distaste against the faithfullest of his ser∣vant; and whether that Ebroins faction breathed this passion into him, or whether it proceeded from his li∣centious youth, or whether his humour felt too much constraint in the innocent severity of the manners of his Mayor of the Palace; he shewed him not so pleasing a look as he had accustomed. He, desirous more effi∣catiously to sound the Kings opinion, most humbly be∣sought him to give him leave to passe the Feast of Easter in the city whereof he was Bishop, which Childeric easily assented to. But perverse souls (who enkindled the fire of division, under colour of friend∣ship) told the good Prelate, that the easinesse his Prince had witnessed in this late occasion, was but a bait to undo him, and that he had resolved to cause his person be seized on, of purpose to murder him. One fears all from a power that taketh the liberty to do all; which was the cause that Leger entred into great affrightments noon this news, and resolved to leave the Court, to free himself from Envy and the dan∣gers which threatned him. He communicateth his intention with his greatest confidents, who are no∣thing of his opinion, and they shewed him he must not yield to a little stormy gust, but rather die in the midst of the waves (holding the helm in his hand) then to forsake the vessel: that his flight would give matter of suspicion to the King; of advantage to his enemies; and of confusion to his own friends: and that (hitherto) there was not any sign of disgrace which might make him to begin, where the onely ex∣tremity of evils might constrain him to end. Not∣withstanding, whether fear had taken too much hold upon this good Prelates mind, or whether his con∣science reduced into his imagination the repose of those innocent dayes he had spent in the Monastery; he takes a sudden resolution, not to forsake the world by halves; but by laying down the government of the affairs of the Kingdome, to rid himself also of his Bishoprick. The conclusion of this businesse is fol∣lowed by a speedy dispatch; which made the King wonder, who sent trusty persons to invite him to re∣turn, and to give him assurance of his good affecti∣on towards him; but his zeal had its ear in heaven, not to hearken to the perswasions of the earth. He goes to the Monastery of Luxeuil, where he sees Ebroin, who was there held as a fettered beast, and not in a condition to bite. The Abbot, who knew the differences that were in Court, fearing, lest hatred might hatch its egg by the help of a religious habit, caused them to be reconciled, and to talk together, although he had separated their abode, fearing that too fiequent conversation might in them awaken their former aversions. Time slideth away very qui∣etly with them, untill the arrivall of a very unexpected accident. Childeric (after the departure of S. Leger)

useth the greatnesse of his power licentiously, and soil∣eth both his Name and Dignity with inconsiderate actions; which quickly made this great Minister of State to be deplored, and all the Envy to be cast upon the King, for having so easily dismissed him. The contempt of his person began so to creep into the minds of his subjects, that defamatory Libels went abroad upon his Passions and Government, which seemed to have no other aim, but the weakning of his Authority. He thought to quench a coal with flames, and entreth into outrageous anger against those whom he suspected to raise any question upon his actions.

He causeth a gentleman named Bodil to be taken, and having caused him to be tyed to a post, he com∣mandeth him to be ignominiously whipped, contrary to the manner of ordinary punishments; which oc∣casioned so much acerbity in the Nobility, that all in an instant rebelled against him. Bodil, transported by the fury of his Passion, and encouraged by the number of his Complices, out of a horrible attempt, kills Childeric whilst he was a hunting: and passing on to the Palace, extendeth his revenge (like a devil fleshed in massacres) to the person of the Queen (great with child) whom he murdered. The Court is drench∣ed in deep desolation; the pillars of the State totter; there is need of able men to free them from this dan∣ger. The friends of Ebroin and S. Leger (who sought their own ends in the employment of these two) invi∣ted them with urgent reasons (covered with the good of the State) to return to the world; assuring them that all France went to ruine, if they supported it not. Ebroin (to whom South-sayers promised wonders, and who, under hope he had to forsake the Monks Coul, had already suffered his hair to grow, to be the better disposed for all occasions) shewed himself nothing hard to be perswaded.

S. Leger therein used more resistance; but in the end suffered himself to be overcome, leaving the sweetnesse of Solitude to enter again into the troubles of the world; which never passeth unpunished, but in such as do it by the Laws of pure Obedience. He is received into his Bishoprick as an Angel, and his friends do all they can to bring him to the Court, and to gain him a good esteem in the Kings mind, who seemed to stand in need of such a servant, to purchase the more authority among the people who with much satisfaction had tasted the sweetnesse of his Government. Ebroin (on the other side) seeing Thierry (Childeric's brother) had taken possession of the Kingdome, was very confident of his return; having formerly been of the faction of the young King: But he being neglected; Leudegesillus, an an∣tient favourite of Thierry's, had undertaken the govern∣ment of affairs. The furious Monk storms like a mad∣man for the dignity of Master of the Palace which he had possessed; and being unable to creep into it by mildnesse, he entreth thereinto by open violence. He rallieth together all his antient friends; in this new change of State, he gathereth a tumultuary ar∣my, and flyeth into the field with so much speed, that he almost surprized the King with his Favourite, to use them at his discretion. Necessity enforceth to offer candles and incense to this devil; he is sought unto for peace; great recompences are proposed to his crimes: his ambition takes no satisfaction but in the object of his design. He draweth Leudegesillus to a Conference under shew of accommodation; and (being a man without Faith or Soul) he killeth him, emptying his place by a murder, to replenish it by a Treachery. Notwithstanding, he lets Thierry know, his arms were not taken but for his service, and that he had no other purpose, but to reduce all powers under his Sceptre. The other was in a condition of inability to defend himself; which made him resolve rather to take him for a servant, then to have him for a master. In the end; this horrible fury (hidden un∣der the habit of a Monk) never ceased until it carried him to the nearest place of a Royall Throne. So soon as he was possessed of his former dignity, he bent all his powers to vengeance, and thought upon no∣thing but of ridding his hands of such as had cros∣sed his fortune. S. Leger was the very first he aim∣ed at in his wicked plots; he dispatcheth troops to make havock about the city of Autun, and gives com∣mands to murderers, (executioners of his revenge) to lay hold of his person.

The good Prelate (who heard the lamentable cryes of the people) afflicted by the detestation of these ho∣stilities, went forth, and presents himself before these barbarians, as a victime of expiation, to deliver him∣self over to death, and to stay the stream of the mi∣series which overflowed his diocesse. He was prepa∣red to make an Oration, but (they as Tygres, which had no commerce with musick) presently fell upon him; and having taken him, they pulled out his eyes, to lead him in triumph to Ebroin. He had already poisoned the ear of the young King, having set forth this sage Bishop, as the most execrable man on earth, and the most capitall enemy he had in the world. There remained nothing (but to produce him in this state) fully to accomplish the contentment his bruitish∣nesse did aim at.

He at the same time caused Guerin (S. Legers bro∣ther) to be taken; doubly to torment him in that he most loved: and having presented them both before the King; he beginneth to charge them with injuries and scorns; the Saints eclipsed eyes, and faces cover∣ed all over with bloud nothing mollifyed the heart of this Polyphemus. Captivity tyed not the tongues of the two brothers, nor excesse of miseries dejected their courages. They spake with all liberty what might be expected from their constancy; rendering thanks to God, that he in this world had chastised them with temporall punishments, as true children; and menacing Ebroin with an eternity of torments, which, the anger of God reserved for the exorbitancy of his wickednesse. This cruel creature, who expe∣cted some more pliantnesse in so great a misery, was immeasurably offended, and instantly comman∣ded them to be separated, and Guerin to be speedily put to death.

He received the sentence of death with great forti∣tude, embracing his blind brother with all unexpressi∣ble tendernesse, and encouraging him to the last con∣flict, with words full of the spirit of God. After this, he is bound to a pillar, and knocked down with stones. Ebroin, who would relish his revenge by long draughts, found out in his heart inventions of a hangman, to torment Saint Leger, causing him to walk on stones as sharp as razours, and appointing his face to be disfigured, by cutting out his tongue, his nose, and lips, to send him from thence a prisoner to the Monastery of Fecan. All this was executed, yet the patience of this incomparable man (by so hideous torments) no whit shaken, blessing God for all these things, and incessantly praying, and forming some stut∣tering inarticulate sounds, to instruct and exhort those who visited him.

A while after, he is called again before this Ty∣rant, who made a sport of his pains, and sought to make him end his life by despair, to kill the soul with the body. But when he perceived his heart was of so strong a temper, and that the dreadfull horrour of a

poor body (carried up and down among so many tor∣tures) made nothing for his reputation, he gave order to Chrodobert to put him to death; and instantly he was delivered to four executioners who led him forth into a forrest, which retaineth the name of S. Leger. The blessed blind man perceiving his hour approached, said to them, I see what you go about to do; Trouble not your selves, I am more ready to die, then you to execute me. Thereupon, three of the murderers relent∣ing, prostrated themselves at his feet, and craved par∣don, which he very freely granted, and putting him∣self upon his knees prayed for his persecutours, recom∣mending his soul to the Father of souls; at which time one of these four executioners persisting in his obdurate∣nesse cut off his head. The wife of Chrodobert took the body, and interred it in a little Chappel, where it did great miracles which have deserved the veneration of people. Some time after, the detestable Ebroin (con∣tinuing the wickednesse of his bloudy life) was slain in his bed like another Holophernes, and suddenly taken out of the world, not shewing any sign of repentance; to be reserved for an eternall torment.

Behold all which Envy, Jealousie, and the Rage of a man abandoned by God can do; which letteth us mani∣festly see, that there are not any men in the world worse then those, who, degenerating from a religious profes∣sion, return to the vices of the world. And on the other side, we may behold in the person of S. Leger, that there is not any Passion which may not be over∣come; nor honour which may not be trodden under∣foot; nor torments which a man is not able to set at naught, when he with strong confidence throws himself between the arms of the Crosse, there to find those of Jesus Christ.

LAUS DEO.

FINIS.

Notes

• * 1.1

  Gregory of Tours l. 4.
• * 1.2

  The plot of Queen In∣gobergna to cure her husbands passion, succeed∣eth ill out of too much affectation.
• * 1.3

  Gregory of Tours l. 5.
• * 1.4

  A notable example of Merouevs to dievrt youth from licentious mariages.
• * 1.5

  Paulus Ae∣milius.
• * 1.6

  Concilia Gallieana tom. 3.
• * 1.7

  Scandalous love of the Emperour Lotharius, and Valdra∣da.
• * 1.8

  Annals of France.
• * 1.9

  The honour the French have born to the vir∣tue of Cha∣stity.
• * 1.10

  Baronius ad annum. 499.
• * 1.11

  Greg. Tu∣ron. l. 9. c. 27
• * 1.12

  Vita S. Lu∣dovici.
• * 1.13

  Conjugall Chastity S. Lewis.
• * 1.14

  Helgaldus Monachus Floriacensis
• * 1.15

  Notable vi∣ctory of Da∣gobert a∣gainst love. Paulus Aemil. Hay∣monius.
• * 1.16

  Rigordus.
• * 1.17

  Great Tri∣umph of Philip Gods-gift over him∣self.
• * 1.18

  Marvellous effects of the passion of Desire.
• * 1.19

  Strange de∣sire of life in Lewis the ele∣venth.
• * 1.20

  Prodigious victory which in the end Lo∣tharius gained over himself af∣ter a great storm of passions; in becoming Religious.
• * 1.21

  Shallow and Fanta∣stick ambi∣tions.
• * 1.22

  Codinus in Eclog.
• * 1.23

  Lucianus in Peregrino.
• * 1.24

  The ambiti∣ons of Ec∣clesiasticks and Religi∣ous much more sub∣til.
• * 1.25

  Crodielde daughter of King Cari∣bert a Reli∣gious wo∣man raiseth great trou∣bles by her ambition.
• * 1.26

  Ambitions which bud in hearts of base ex∣traction are most infe∣lent. The exam∣ple of a Chirurgion of S. Lewis, wisely re∣pressed and chastised by the pru¦dence and justice of Philip the 3. King of France.
• * 1.27

  The French revengers of ambition.
• * 1.28

  The furious ambition, of Alexius (the Tyrant of Greece) pu∣nished by the valour and Justice of the French.
• * 1.29

  Moderation of the Kings of France.
• * 1.30

  Aymonius l. 4. p. Aemilius. Annals of France.
• * 1.31

  Choler of Dagobert somewhat rough.
• * 1.32

  Generous anger of K. Clotharius.
• * 1.33

  Valour of Charles the Simple.
• * 1.34

  The passion of anger is very preju∣diciall to Military art in a General
• * 1.35

  Philip of Valois, a great and a generous King loseth a battel, out of a peevish humour of anger.
• * 1.36

  Barbarous Anger of Bajazet.
• * 1.37

  Lewis the Young ad∣monished by S. Ber∣nard, cha∣stiseth him∣self (for hi•• a••ger) by sadnesse and penance.
• * 1.38

  Danger of scoffing. Polydor. Virg. l. 9.
• * 1.39

  William the Conquerour of England, very suspici∣ous.
• * 1.40

  History of Froissard.
• * 1.41

  The scoffs of certain rebellious Flemings severely pu∣nished by the genero¦sity of Phi∣lip of Valois
• * 1.42

  Anger of women.
• * 1.43

  Queen Ele∣onor an e∣nemy of France.
• * 1.44

  Dupleix.
• * 1.45

  Annals of France.
• * 1.46

  Anger our of simplicity many tim••s cause hurt for a word too free, witnesse that of En∣guerrand.
• * 1.47

  Aymonius l. 5. c. 39.
• * 1.48

  Wicked re∣venge of an Abbot, and of John Prochytas a∣gainst the French.
• * 1.49

  Glaber.
• * 1.50

  Great mo∣deration in Saint (King) Robert.
• * 1.51

  Helgandus in vita Ro∣berti Regis.
• * 1.52

  Generous act of Lewis the Ele∣venth.
• * 1.53

  Humility and wise∣dome of Queen Anne to overcome the passion of anger.
• * 1.54

  Great and magnani∣mous good∣nesse of Le∣wis the Twelfth.
• * 1.55

  Incompara∣ble mild∣nesse of Le∣wis the son of Charle∣maigne.
• * 1.56

  Dupleix.
• * 1.57

  Argentre.
• * 1.58

  Addresse of Bavalon to appease that anger of the Duke of Brittaign
• * 1.59

  Lamentable envy and enmity of Ebroin a∣gainst S. Le∣ger.