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 SOULDIERS.

JOSHUA. JUDAS MACCABEUS.

[illustration]

[illustration] portrait of Joshua (the patriarch)

IOSVE.

[illustration] portrait of Judas Maccabeus

IVDAS MACHABEE.

HE must be ignorant of the chief and most visible of beauties that knowes not Joshua. One cannot see the Sun without remembring the great com∣merce that this Valourous Captain had with the King of Stars. All the World lift their eyes up to it, but none hath ever lifted his voyce as far as it, to make himself be heard, and to make himself to be obeyed. The Stars knew Joshua because he bore the Name of him that formed them; It is he that first gave us the fore-tasts of the name of Jesus, at which the Heaven, the Earth, and Hell do bend the knee.

What lovely thing had not this generous Joshua, seeing one cannot name him without mentioning Salva∣tion, which is the wish and content of all men? Who would think that such a spirit had been born and bred in servitude? And yet he was Pharaohs slave, he was as the rest in the chain, that was at that time common to all his people. Those were very patient that could endure it, but he was far more valiant that found a means to break it.

When in his little infancy he played upon the banks of the River of Nile with the other prisoners, he then strook terrour into all its flotes, and the Angels of E∣gypt, knew that he should tread under his feet the pride Pharaoh, and carry away the spoils of that proud kingdome so many times cemented with the blood of his brethren. He did every thing by Moses's orders, and Moses did nothing without him. If one was the eye of his people, the other was the arm; if one was the Con∣ductour of them, the other was the Protectour. If one had the Providence, the other reserved to himself the execution which is ordinarily the most difficult piece of Prudence.

Moses lifted up his hands to Heaven, and Joshua his Arms upon the head of the enemies of God; the one combated with the lipps, and the other with the sword; the one poured out oyl and wine upon the Al∣tars, the other shed the bloud of the wicked to make a sacrifice to the justice of the Sovereign Monarch.

He was inclined to war by the disposition of God himself, he received the sword as from his hands, and wore it fifty seven years alwayes in assaults, alwayes in defenses, alwayes in various encountres, and in bloody battels, for the safety and the glory of his Nation.

He hath reaped more Palms, then heaven hath stars, he made as many combats as journeyes, and gained as many victories as he gave battels. Happinesse never deliberated whether she should follow his undertakings. She was under him as a souldier in pay, and whither one carried his Standarts, the other incontinently dis∣plaied her wings to cover them. They never brake a∣sunder, and hazard that hath often a foot so slippery, found firm ground when it was covered with the arms of Joshua.

He affronted Gyants that seemed to have been born onely for the terrour of Mankind. He tumbled down towers of flesh, and trod under feet Monsters that the most valiant durst not so much as look on. He took Cities whose walls and Citadels were so high that they seemed to be lost in heaven.

The Plains of Makkedah of Libnah, of Lachish, of Debir, of Hebron, of Gilgal, of Gezer, and of Jeri∣cho bear yet the seeds of his Lawrels. Eglon and Ai preserve his Trophes which are yet standing after they have seen the ruines of the Pyramids of Egypt. But Gibeon carries away the price of his victories, see∣ing that it was it that saw the Sun stand still upon his Conquest.

Plato and Aristotle that hold the heavens and the Stars, animated Julius Firmicus that believes them fil∣led with sence and with prudence, would not have fail∣ed to tell us here, that it was the love and the admira∣tion of the valour of that great Captain, that tyed the Sun by insensible chains in the middst of his firmament,

and that he could not endure to set before he had seen the end of that famous battell; he could see nothing a∣mongst our Antipodes that came near this specta∣cle; he esteemed his Light more noble and more precious for that it had shone that very Day even upon the Valour of the most rare Man of the whole Earth.

But the Scripture teaches us, that the chief of the Lu∣minaries of heaven stood for that time immovable, not by any understanding that it had, but by obedience that it rendred to its Creatour, seeing the Creatour himself would obey the voyce of a man. All the Militia of hea∣ven desired to be of the Party, the Moon and the Starres waited upon their King, and would not move one step that was not troden according to his measures.

After this do we think it strange that the Rivers turned about their Passages to favour Joshua's, and that the sacred Jordan was sensible of the foot-steps of a mortall man, to whom the Heavens themselves gave some veneration?

Millions of men grew pale with fear when they saw one single man with his sword in hand; The walls of Cities fell to the ground, though he did not touch them but with his eyes.

The onely presence of one Joshua was worth an hundred Regiments; The souldiers thought nothing impossible under him, and by him the enemies esteem'd themselves vanquished as soon as seen.

What may one say of a Generall that subdued thir∣ty and one Kings, that brake so many Sceptres, that saw so many Crowns and Diadems at his feet? One sole Victory carried away upon a Monarch cau∣sed the Roman Captains to be seen in a Chariot of I∣vory drawn by white Horses, and sometimes by Ele∣phants and Lyons: Sesostres King of the Egyptians four Kings to be tyed to his Coach, for that he had conquered them in battell. But our Joshua, a sub∣duer of Pride as well as men, desires no exteriour pomp to honour his deeds of valour. It sufficed him that God Triumphed in him, and would not have any other glory, but to be under the feet of him that mar∣ches upon the wings of the winds, and upon the head of Cherubins.

He was not onely a valiant Souldier, and wise Ge∣nerall, but at last the Judge and Prince of his people, Great in Arms and in Laws, and accomplished in all sort of virtues. The Israelites thinking one day that Moses their Conductour had been lost in the Wilder∣nesse, desired the High-Priest Aaron to make them a God to supply his default; But after that Moses was dead, and that they beheld Joshua seated in his place, they desired no more any other Deity because they per∣ceived in him the liveliest impression that man can have of God upon the earth.

Virtues that seemed most contrary were reconciled in him, and made but one sole visage of perfection. Piety made nothing soft in his Courage, nor Courage any thing fierce in his Piety. Heigth of Spirit found that she was compatible with Meeknesse. Activenesse went the same pase with providence, and the most Il∣lustrious of glories reposed in him under the shadow of humility. Justice in him did not offend Clemency; He imitated the living God that is mercifull even as farre as Hell. He punished Crimes with a zeal mixt with ardour and compassion; and when he caused A∣chan that sacrilegeous man to dye, at the time that his hand was stiffe to hold the ballance of Justice in an e∣quality, he felt in his heart a tendernesse that made him give death to the culpable as a benefit, though o∣thers took it for a punishment.

But let us remember while we speak of Joshua that God hath covered him with the rayes of glory; to teach us, that we are constrained to cover his brave acts in silence.

To conclude, He to whom nothing was wanting but immortality, dyed as a setting Sun, animating his peo∣ple with the spirit that went out of his body: and some hold that the Hebrews put upon his Tomb the figure of a Sun, as if they would say that he was amongst men that which the Sun is amongst the stars, and that there is nothing even as far as the shadow of death, that hath not kindled for him lights of Im∣mortality.

JUDAS MACCABEVS.

WHatsoever Virtue hath of Great, what∣soever Valour hath of Generous met in the person of Judas Maccabeus to make a mervell of his life, and an Im∣mortall memory of his Name.

God caused him to be born in a de∣plorable age, in the time that King Antiochus surna∣med the Illustrious raised that horrible persecution a∣gainst the Jews, that made the heavens to weep, and the earth to blush with bloud. It was a sport to that Barbarous man to profane holy things, and a continu∣all exercise to flea and roast Men, or to throw them in∣to boyling Caldrons, without having any other crime but dying for the true Religion. The cruelty of the tor∣ments overcomes the weak, and shakes even the strong∣est; The Altars overturn'd upon the bleeding Priests, the children strangled in the bosome of their sighing Mothers, the flames that without distinction devoured the sacred and profane, the Houses that seemed now but dens of Beasts, presented to the world an hideous spectacle that gave more desire to dye, then courage to live.

Amidst these desolations was found a gallant old man named Matathias, the father of many sonnes all men of valour, who went our of Jerusalem to re∣tire himself in the City of Modin. There he assem∣bled all those of his family, who were followed of what∣soever remained yet of most courageous to oppose them∣selves against the fury of the Tyrant, and to retein the remnants of the true Piety. As soon as the infidels had heard that a little handfull of men assaid to subtract themselves from their puissance, and refused to make open profession of the Religion of the Pagans, they failed not hastily to send unto them a Lieutenant of the Kings, that summoned Matathias to render up him∣self with all his men, and to offer Incense to the Idols. But this virtuous man assembling his sons and his allies said thus unto them,

It would be to be too much in love with Life, to be willing to spare and keep it in the losse of the true Re∣ligion. I am sorry that I ever entred into the world, when I consider the time to which God hath reserv'd my age to see the disasters of my people, and the desola∣tion of holy Jerusalem abandoned to the pillage of ra∣pinous

hands, and to the prophanation of the impious. Her Temple hath been handled as the object of all re∣proches, and those Vessels of Glory that served for the Ministery of the Living God, hath been taken away by violence. We have seen her streets covered with dead bodies, and the little children having their throats cut upon the Carcases of their Fathers. And what Nati∣on hath not possessed our heritages, and is not inriched with our spoils? The holinesse of the Temple hath not stayed sacrilegious hands, and so many slaves of that proud City, have not been able to preserve themselves from flames. After this, what interest can we have in life, unlesse it be to revenge the quarrell of God? I am pro∣mised all the honours and all the goods that I can rea∣sonably hope for, If I will obey the King Antiochus, and range my self on the party of those that have so basely betraied their faith. But God forbid, that I should ever fall into such a prostitution of Judgment or of courage. When all those of my nation shall have conspired to forsake their Law, to obey the time, and to accommodate themselves to the Prince's will, I can answer for my self and for my children, and for my brothers, assuring my self of their Generosity that they will never do any thing that is base. Let all those that shall have a zeal to the true Religion joyn them∣selves to us, and know that amongst so many miseries there is nothing better, then to mark with their blood the way of Safety and of Glory, to give example to Posterity.

In the mean time the Kings Commissioners pressed every one to declare himself, and to sacrifice, whereupon a man of the people of the Jewes, whether he was frighted by the terrour of the punishments, or allured by the promise of rewards, stepped forth to sacrifice upon an Altar set up in publick, and dedicated to the false De∣ities, But Matathias having looked steddily upon him felt his heart enflamed with a violent heat of the zeal that possessed him, and running to that Apostate, killed him with his own hand, and laid him dead upon the Altar, making him serve for an offering in the place to which he came to be a Priest. He added to him also that Lieutenant of the King that commanded them to offer those sacrifices of abominations, and declared o∣pen warre to all the Infidels that would constrain them to forsake their Law.

It is a wonderfull thing to consider the power of a man in zeal that contemns his life, and is ambitious of death. This holy old man began an army with five sons that he had and a few kinsmen. He quitted the City of Modin, where he could not be the stronger, to entrench himself upon a mountain, whither those that were zea∣lous for the defence of the antient piety arrived from all sides with their wives, their children, and their flocks; all resolved to live, or to dye with the Illustrious Macca∣beans. Matathias seeing his army every day increase, did brave exploits of warre so that he was not contented to beat back the Infidels, but assaulted them even in their trenches, and chased them away, which gave him all liberty to demolish the prophane Altars that they had erected in many places, to cause Circumcision to be administred to little Infants, and to recover the sacred books out of the hand of the enemyes.

In fine, this valorous Captain, after many Combats, seeing his last day approch made a long oration to his children, enflaming them to the zeal of their Religion against the Tyranny of King Antiochus, and, after he had given them Judas Maccabeus for their Chief, and Simeon for their Counsell, blessed them, and shut up his life by a most glorious end.

Judas, that had been a good Souldier under his Fa∣ther, became a great Commander amongst his brethren, and continued the design that had been traced out un∣to him by the virtue of their Ancestours, employing all his power to raise again the Trophies of the God of Hosts that had been thrown down by the fury of the Infidels.

I find that this great Cavalier founded his whole life upon Conscience, and Honour, which he alwayes esteemed above all that is precious in Nature and re∣commendable to Grace. He believed even in perfecti∣on a God Sovereignly Almighty, that hath an eye al∣ways open upon the actions of men, that is the distribu∣tour of Glory, and the Revenger of Iniquities, and held firmly that he was to be acknowledged and adored by the worship and the Ceremonies ordained in the law of his Fathers; and therefore embraced with an Incompara∣ble ardour the true Religion, using his uttermost endea∣vour to practice, defend, and maintain it, to the preju∣dice of goods, life, honour, and of all that is esteemed dearest in the world. He yielded himself to be totally conducted by Providence, which he held to preside in all Battels, so that he measured not victories by the multitude of souldiers, by arms, by fortresses, by am∣munitions of warre, but assured himself that there was a secret Providence from above, that made all the hap∣pinesse and misery of men.

From thence it came that he had a wonderfull con∣fidence in the Divine Protection, believing himself to be beloved of God, whom he loved reciprocally more by sincerity of affection, then by exteriour Pomp; He never went to fight but he fore-armed himself with strong and ardent prayers, he never undertook to give battell, but he exhorted his men to implore the assistance of God upon their Arms.

He also shewed himself very sensible of the favours of Heaven, and desired that God should first of all triumph in all the good successes that accompanied his Standards; which he expressed visibly, when, having defeated the Generals of King Antiochus in manifold assaults, and gotten a little rest to his dear countrey; he took a pressing care to cause the Temple to be repaired and cleansed, that had been horribly profaned by the Infidels.

It was an incomparable joy to all the people, when after so many desolations that had preceded, he cele∣brated a Triumphant Dedication, by which he caused the hopes of his Nation to reflourish. His cares exten∣ded even beyond the World wherein we live, and one may well affirm, that he was the first of the Antient Fathers of the Old Testament, that expressed more openly the charitable offices that ought to be rendred to the souls of the Deceased. This manifestly appears in an encounter which he had with Gorgias Generall of the Army of the Enemy, in which he lost some Soul∣diers, and when he came to visit the field of battell to view the Dead, and to cause them to be carried to the Sepulchre of their Fathers, he found that some amongst them had in their clothes certain pieces of the offerings presented to the Idols, thinking perhaps that it was law∣full for them to accommodate themselves with it for their use, though in effect the Law forbad it. This gave a shock at first unto his conscience that was very deli∣cate, and he deplored the unhappinesse of those forsa∣ken people, that had loaded themselves with profane Booties, yet when he thought that that befell them more for want of consideration, and by the hope of some little gain, then by any consent that they had gi∣ven to Idolatry, he sent twelve thousand Drachmes in∣to Jerusalem, to cause Sacrifices to be offered for the rest of their Souls.

This made him to be honoured with very particular favours of heaven; for he hath been sometimes seen in a combat environed with celestiall virtues that watched for his protection, and filled his enemies with terror. His

very dreams were not without a mystery, witnesse that which shewed him the Prophet Jeremy, and the high Priest Onias, who prayed before the face of God for the safety of the People; the former of which two put into his hand a guilded sword, telling him that it was that wherewith he should bring down to the earth the enemies of his Religion.

The great love that he had for God reflected it self continually towards his neighbour, on whom he contemplated the image of the first beauty. He bore in his heart all that were afflicted, and burned with a most ardent love for the good of his dear countrey. The zeal of Justice possessed his soul, and he had no greater delights in the world, then to succour widows, orphans, and all necessitous persons. They ran to him as to their true Father; they ranged themselves under the shadow of his virtue, and found there a refresh∣ment in their most parching heats. His conversation was sweet, his speech affable, his manners without avarice. He never sold his Protection, nor made any Traffick of his Valour. He knew not what it was to buy his neighbours lands, to build palaces, to plant orchards, to make gardens, and to heap up treasures. He was rich for the poor, and poor for himself, living as a man untyed from all things else, and fastned to virtue alone by an indissoluble knot of duty.

His Temperance passed even to admiration, so greatly did he contemne those pleasures and delights that others regard as their chief felicity. He never dreamed of causing the beautifull women-prisoners to be preserved for himself, because he was skilfull in the trade of defending Ladies honours rather then assaulting them. He never had any Mistresse, being perpetually Master of himself, and one shall have work enough to find out his wives name; it is not read that he had any other children but Virtues and Victories. He lived as an Essean estranged from all the pleasures of the flesh, and tasted no other content∣ment in the world, then to do great actions. He never enterprised the warre against King Antiochus to make himself great, and to reign, but for the pure love of his Religion and dear countrey.

Traytours and corrupted spirits blame him for ha∣ving taken up arms, saying, That it behoved them ra∣ther to suffer the Destinies then to make them. That it behoved them to obey the Powers that God had set over their heads. That it was a great rashnesse to think to resist the forces of all Asia with a little handfull of souldiers; that it could not chuse but pro∣voke the conquerours, and draw upon the vanquished a deluge of calamities.

The world hath been full in all times of certain condescending Philosophers, who accommodate them∣selves to every thing that they may not disaccommo∣date themselves for virtue. They care not what vi∣sage is given to Piety, so that they find therein their own advantages. By how much the more mens spirits are refined to search out reasons to colour the to∣leration of vices, by so much the more their cou∣rages are weakned, and neglect to maintain them∣selves in duty. There are some that had rather lie still in the dirt then take the pains to arise out of it.

Judas considered that King Antiochus was not contented with having brought the Jews to a common servitude, but would overthrow all their Laws, and abolish entirely their Religion. He did not believe that it was lawfull for him to abandon cowardly the interests of God. He thought that there are times wherein one ought rather destroy ones self with cou∣rage, then preserve ones self with sluggishnesse. He looked not so much upon his strength as upon his duty. He perswaded himself that a good Cause cannot be forsaken of God, and that we ought to essay to serve him, applying our wills to his orders, and leaving all the successe of our works to his disposall.

This great zeal that he had of Justice was accom∣panied with a well tempered prudence. As he never let loose himself in that which was absolutely of the Law, so did he never use to rack himself by unprofi∣table scruples that are ordinary enough to those that are zealous through indiscretion. Some of his Na∣tion shewed themselves so superstitious, that being assaulted by their enemies on the Satturday, they let their throats be cut, as sheep, without the least re∣sistance, for fear of violating the Sabbath if they should put themselves upon a defence. Judas fol∣lowing the example of his father Matathias took away that errour, which tended to the generall deso∣lation of his countrey, and shewed by lively reasons, that God who hath obliged us to the preservation of our selves by the Law of Nature, had never such an intention as to give us for a prey to our enemies by an indiscreet superstition. That it was a good work to defend the Altars and ones countrey against the Infi∣dels, and that it was not to break the Sabboth, but rather to sanctifie it.

Following these pathes, he was the first of all the Jews that made a League with the Romans, which hath seemed a little harsh to Rupertus and some other Divines. But we must consider what Saint Paul saith, That if all commerce with the Gentiles had been for∣bidden to the Jews, and to the first Christians, they should have been constrained rather to go out of the world then converse in it. Never did this great Cap∣tain in his most pressing necessities cause the Roman souldiers to come into Palestine, fearing lest their ap∣proach might bring some damage and profanation to an Holy Land. But forasmuch as he saw himself en∣vironed all round with Kings that bowed under the puissance of the Roman Empire, he thought that it would be convenient to endeavour to gain their friend∣ship to obtain more easily Justice against the op∣pressions of his neighbours. He employed the power of the Infidels not to torment the faithfull but to ruine infidelity. He sought to those into whose hands God had put the Power to have the exercise of it to the glory of him that had communicated it to them; this was not a crime, but a most exquisite piece of prudence.

The false high Priest Alcimus, Judas's adver∣sary, did not use the matter so, who caused the Ar∣mies of Antiochus to come to the destruction of the Altars and to the massacre of his brethren, which caused him to be smitten with a stroak from heaven, and rendred him execrable to the memory of men.

But we must acknowledge that of all the great qua∣lities that hath shined in this so famous man, Valour hath alwayes held one of the upper ranks. He was made for Military virtue, and furnished with all the necessary conditions that make Generalls of Armies and Conquerours. An elevated birth, an happy be∣ginning that he had made under his father, science of Warre, Authority, Happinesse, Vigilancy, Active∣nesse, Boldnesse, Government, and whatsoever is best in the profession of Arms, had contributed to make of him the wonder of his age. He was a Lion's heart, that found security in dangers, and would not have even Crowns themselves, if he did not pluck them out of the midst of thorns. One cannot read without admiration the two books of the Maccabees, in considering the great progresses that he made in so little time, and so many various encounters. In the space of six years he sustained the great and prodigious

forces of three Kings of Asia, opposing himself with a little flying Camp against Armies of fourty, sixty, an hundred thousand men, which he put into disorder and confusion. He defeated in ranged battels and in divers combats, nine Generalls of the Infidels, kil∣ling some with his own hand, and carrying away their spoils.

The first amongst them was Apollonius, who was of an high repute in Antiochus his Reign, because that he had been employed in the principall businesses of the Realm, treating with the Romans and the Egy∣ptians for his Master. It is the very same that entred into Jerusalem with an army of two and twenty thou∣sand men, and under pretence of Peace made there an horrible spoil. Assoon as he had heard that Judas Maccabeus had put himself into the field with a strength very little considerable, he thought that being Governour of Syria, and of Phenicia, and at that time upon the place, the businesse concerned him above all others: and therefore he collects together great troops to stop the progresse of the Jews, and to suc∣ceed with all security. But the valorous Maccabeus prevented him so vigorously, that he had not the lea∣sure well to bethink himself: he gave him battle, wherein his men, seeing the assaults of the faithfull people that seemed the assaults of giants, began to stag∣ger. Whatsoever pains he took to rally them, fear had so farre gained upon them, that they destroyed themselves for fear of being destroyed. Judas, by Joseph Gorians report, made that day the heads of his enemies to fall under his cuttle-ax as fast as the ears of corn-fall under the hook of the reaper. He chose Apollonius out of the middle of his best soul∣diers and ran to him, challenging him to a duel, in which the other was overcom in the sight of a trembling army, and Judas took away his sword which he used the rest of his dayes in so many glorious combats.

Seron that was Lieutenant under Apollonius, push∣ed on with vengeance and with glory that made him long since seek out an occasion to make himself re∣nowned, thinking that Apollonius his defeat was but a stroke of Fortune, and that he should quickly bring Judas into good order, rallyed all his forces, in∣creasing his army as much as possibly he could; which gave at first a great terrour to the Hebrews, seeing that the heads of that Hydra which they thought had been cut off pushed forth so suddenly. They had jour∣nied and fasted the very day of the combat, and seem∣ed all discouraged, but Judas exhorted them with an ardent speech that put fire and spirit into all his Ar∣my. It fell so opportunely upon the enemy, that Seron thought he had to do rather with hungry wolves then men; and although he came with a great deal of bravery to the encountre, he quickly perceived that he had sung the Triumph before the Victory, and had very much ado to retire with a whole skin, contenting himself to run away after he had had the hope of conquering.

Lysias, that was the Almighty under King Antio∣chus, grew mad to see himself out-braved by so small an army of men, contemptible, and knew not what ac∣count to give the King his Master, to whom he had promised to root out the remainders of the Jewish people, so that there should not be any memory of them left behind. He chose on divers occasions three of the best Generalls of all the Armies, which were Ptolomy, Gorgias, and Nicanor▪ Ptolomy made not any great brags; Gorgias was vain enough to pro∣mise himself the victory, and perswaded himself that he was very dreadfull. But Judas, though he had then but three thousand men badly armed, defeated him, and took his camp which was filled with great riches; which gave a great temptation to the Jewish Army that desired nothing but readily to throw themselves upon the booty. Yet their Conductour that knew the art of Warre, and that many busying themselves about the spoils had lost their honour and their life, gave a strict command that they should not touch that prey of the Infidels before the defeat was perfected, and thereupon set himself to pursue his enemies that were in a disorder, and after he had killed a good num∣ber of them, put the rest to flight.

Nicanor that was the third of those Generalls, after he had experimented the valour of Judas with the losse of his men, resolved not to commit his reputation to the incertainty of combats, but put off the Lions skin to take the Foxes, endeavouring to surprise Judas by treachery, seeing that he was impregnable by force. He made as though he sued to him for Peace, and un∣der colour of friendship to draw him to a parley, where∣in he had a design to seize upon him, thinking that it was the shortest way to end the Warre. But Judas took good order for the security of his person, and diverted that wicked design that the other had upon him. The Agreement that was esteemed a meer dissembling failed not to succeed: the two Generalls saw each other, and having promised faithfulnesse to one another, Nicanor entred into Jerusalem, and ex∣pressed much cordialnesse to the Maccabean, whether he was taken with the admiration of his vircues, and the charms of his conversation, or that he employed all those caresses to deceive him; Yet they were so vi∣sible, that they gave a jealousie to the King by the re∣ports of some ill tongues, that rendred the familiarity of Judas and Nicanor suspected to the State. He was constrained to take a journey to the Court to justifie himself thereon, and was dismissed with an expresse command to send the Maccabean bound in chains unto the city of Antioch, if he would that his justifica∣tions should be believed. He returned then into Judea continuing alwayes his impostures, but Judas having been advertised of it, distrusted him, and left Jerusa∣lem to retire himself unto Samaria. Nicanor caused the Priests to be summoned, to deliver him up alive or dead, and in case they did refuse, he threatned to pro∣fane the Temple, and to make a dedication of it to the false Deities. The Priests having protested to him that it was not in their power, since Judas had forsooke their city, he retired with an intention to make an ex∣act inquest after him, and to carry him prisoner to the King.

But he seeing that the danger was very great, stif∣ned his courage, and resolved himself rather to die like a gallant man, then to let himself be taken like a sit∣still. He disposed his whole army by extraordinary devotions and exhortations that were all of fire, as be∣ing to enterprize one of the most important combats. Nicanor caused his troops to march who were of a great number, and concluded to give battle on a Satur∣day, believing that the day of Rest would make him a better market of the enemies bloud. He had in his Army some Jews that followed him, either by a volun∣tary Apostacy, or by necessity, that at that time adver∣tised him that he would do well to deferre the day of so dangerous a battle, by reason that it was dedicated to Rest. But he demanded thereupon who he was that had ordained that day of Sabbath to countenance their sloth? They answered him, that it was the God of heaven that had destined it for his glory; whereto he replyed, That that God of heaven should content himself to make Laws in his own Dominion, but that he, that was the Almighty here on earth, commanded them to march for the businesse of the King. He was carried away with choler and precipitation, which are

two very dangerous rocks in the beginning of a battle, besides the vengeance of God pursued him as the chief of all blasphemers. He fought so ill, that having been defeated by Judas, he left thirty and five thousand dead upon the place, whose number he augmented, finding himself involved in the common misery. The Conquerour caused his body to be sought out, and commanded that his head should be cut off, and the hand that he had stretched out against the Altars, or∣dering them to be hanged up in very remarkable places to be beheld by all the world: the Tongue that had blasphemed against God was plucked out of his palate, and given for a prey to the birds of rapine. Such was the end of that blasphemer, who hath made us see, that a man never despises God in his life, but he expe∣riments the arrows of his vengeance at his death. He should make a long discourse that would follow in the trace all the valorous acts of Judas. I content my self, my Reader, to set before your eyes all that is most illu∣strious, and to make you see how God fought for Ju∣das and his brethren under the Reign of six Kings, with whom they had great businesse to scuffle for.

The first and the most capitall of their enemies was that Antiochus surnamed the Illustrious, who was a factious spirit, turbulent, and enraged, that had undertaken to destroy the whole Nation of the Jews, because they had rejoyced at the presages of his death. One onely expedition that he made unto Jerusalem to revenge himself, cost the liberty or the life of fourscore thousand souls, the entire desolation of the Temple, pillaged, ransacked, and profaned even so farre, as that there was seen in it a Statue of Jupiter Olympian up∣on the Altar. After all these disastres he left Lysias his Lieutenant to extirpate the remainders of the Jew∣ish people, and drew away to the coasts of Persia to make some new pillages. It was a King that Daniel calls the Impudent, because he had neither God, nor Conscience, nor Faith, nor Government, al∣wayes carried away by an impetuous flux of his own passions that transfigured him into the savagest of all beasts.

After a Reign of twelve years he finished his life by a most horrible end, which made it visible enough that God combated for his Macchabe, and for all the faithfull people. The Scripture saith, That that wick∣ed man that often passed from profusion to necessity without ever separating himself from an insatiable ava∣rice, having heard that there was a Temple very rich in the city of Persepolis, and that was filled with gold and silver, and all the most exquisite rarities that Ale∣xander the Great had left there, resolved to take the City, and pillage the Temple, as he had done that of Jerusalem: But the inhabitants having had intelli∣gence of his design beat him back with much confusion and great losse of his men, in the ruine of which he saw himself almost overwhelmed.

As he returned from that voyage in a very shame∣full disorder, he heard of the great successes of our Macchabee, and of the routing of the Lieutenants, and of the forces that he had left behind him in Judea. This news arriving at a crosse time struck him upon his wounds, and pierced him to the heart with a lively and pricking grief. He fumed against heaven, he detested his fortune and his life, and swore that he would make no more of Jerusalem but a common tomb of all the inhabitants of the City.

He hastned with great marches for that effect, and was smitten with a stroke from heaven as invisible as it was afterward uncureable. He that had plucked out the bowels of so many innocents felt himself torment∣ed with a furious collick, and with a multitude of in∣fernall pains, that in a moment deprived him of his appetite, of his rest, and of all the joyes of life; and as evils ordinarily enough come upon the neck of one another, it happened that whiles he caused himself to be drawn in his caroch with too much precipitation, he fell, and got a wound by that fall, wherein cor∣ruption and worms suddenly arose that infested that miserable body after a strange manner. The stink of it was so great that all the army sented the infection of it, and he himself had very much ado to endure himself.

Sometimes he entred into great choler that made him vomit out execrable blasphemies, sometimes he suffered himself to be carried away by lamentations unseemly to his dignity, deploring the losse of that estate which was so beautifull, so stately, so triumphant, filled with honours, with health, with contentments and delights. Sometimes he passed into black af∣frights, and felt stinging remorses for his life past, saying, that all his misery came from having profaned the Temple of Jerusalem, and made so bloudy a but∣chery of that poor people; that he perceived at pre∣sent, that there was a sovereign power in heaven to whom all Kings do owe obedience, and that it is an unmeasureable folly for men to equall themselves with God. Furthermore, he protested, that if he recovered his health, he would make reparation for all his faults by an extraordinary piety, filling with riches the Tem∣ple that he had pillaged▪ and using the Jews with all courtesies, and all liberalities possible for a great King; adding to all this, that he would make profession of the Jews Religion, and would become a servant of the true God. This wicked man had his mouth open to sorrows, and to vows, but God had no ears for him, and it was in vain to seek for mercy after he had so many times despised it. At last he rendred up his cri∣minall soul after a Reign of twelve years, to suffer an eternity of punishments.

One may observe in many Histories, that some very bloudy Tyrants have not ended by the sword, but that God hath laid his hand upon them by some strange malady and visible strokes, that have made them die slowly, and rendred them spectatours of their own dis∣honour, and of their own funeralls. So died Herod, and Tyberius, Alcimus, Copronymus, and Leo.

This miserable King left a sonne behind him of a very small age, named Antiochus Eupator, who was assoon successour of his fathers miserie as of his Em∣pire. It is a pitifull thing that the children of Sove∣reign Princes that are born so great should not alwaies be born free. Many are like those creatures that bear purple, pearls, and musk; all that they have of Rich is the cause of their destruction; men cease not to tor∣ment them, and to hunt after them, and if they love them it is onely to have their spoils. Eupator for that he was born a King became a slave to two of his fa∣thers servants that contended for the Regency, and fell together by the ears to possesse that unfortunate pupill. It is true that Antiochus when he was dying in a strange countrey, called Philip one of his great favourites, and gave him the diadem, the purple royall, and the ring to carry to his sonne, and recommended him to him as in quality of a Tutour. But Lysias that had bred up this young Prince from his tender infancy, and held him yet under his government, thought himself to be in a good possession, and would by no means give it up.

He put off now that countenance of Governour which bare by necessity of duty some lineaments of severity, and took one of a principall Officer of State, full of attractions and complacency towards his King, who esteemed himself very happy that he was got out of his Wardship, and had his liberty. He

gained him to him by the taste he gave him of his greatnesse and delights, accompanied with a thousand fair promises to make him live the most contented and the most triumphant Monarch under heaven.

Eupator that found his words true in that manner of life which Lysias let him leade, and who durst not an∣ger him, imagining him yet to be his Master, shewed himself entirely for him, rejecting the pretensions of his adversary. And that which aided more yet this design, was, that the Army of Antiochus that seemed should have upheld Philips party was found weak, after it had been evill entreated in a long and tedious voyage. But Lysias had great forces on foot in Pale∣stine, Phenicia, and Syria, who yielded themselves to his disposall, seeing that the young King declared him∣self openly for him. His competitour then began to flatter, considering him guarded both with favour and with force; but he ceased not to foment his ambitions which made on that occasion a great havock.

The new Regent, whether through the hatred that he had against the Jews, or whether through the desire that came to him of giving lustre to the Arms of his young Prince, or whether he was moved to it by the complaints that ordinarily did beat upon his ears about the incursions and progresses of the Macchabe, made a great preparation of warre, and came to fall into Judea. His Army was composed of an hundred thousand foot, twenty thousand horse, two and thirty well train'd elephants that were distributed into divers legions, and carried wodden towers with great engines upon their backs. Thirty women combated upon them, and about them marched five hundred Cavaliers with a thousand foot-men.

Judas had the hardinesse to get him out of the for∣tresse wherein he was to go and view them, and to op∣pose himself against their designs. But assoon as he was perceived, the adverse Army ranged themselves into a Battalia in the presence of the young King, who was very early up that day, beginning to relish the trade of warre with some alacrity. The trumpets be∣gan to sound, and the legions instantly were spread over the mountains and over the vallies all round about Je∣rusalem with such a pomp, as that the earth trembled under the burden of the arms and of the engines of so great a train of men of warre. They provoked then their elephants to fight by shewing them the juice of grapes and mulberies squeezed out. Nothing was heard but shouts of souldiers, but neighing of horses, but clashings of lances and of swords, and just at the break of day as the Sunne appeared in the Horizon, the guilded bucklers cast out so great a light that all the neighbouring mountains seemed to be filled with burn∣ing torches.

It is a prodigious thing that the great heart of the Macchabee should march in the head of his army and begin to charge the enemy, which he dealt rough∣ly with, killing at first five hundred men of the Kings van-guard without any losse of his. But that which seemed most fearfull, was, that Eleazer a Jewish Cap∣tain, having perceived an elephant wel armed and pom∣pously adorned above the rest, imagined that the King Eupator combated upon it, and was pricked forward with a generous glory to assault and overthrow him. He passed through all the ranks of the army of the In∣fidels that were opposed against him, and arriv'd even to that terrible beast, under which he slipt himself, and pierced it with his sword, but finding himself cooped in by the multitude of men that were about and over him, he could not make a retreat soon enough, but was (as S. Ambrose said) buried in his triumph.

Yet Judas having perceived the puissant forces of the King, saw well that the party was not tenable, and made an honourable retreat into Jerusalem. Lysias failed not to follow and to besiege him in his trenches with abundance of engines of stone and fire. The other defended himself very courageously, resolving rather to bury himself in that place then to yield it up by any sort of basenesse. The besieged after some time were reduced to some extremity, being combated by arms, and hunger in a year of rest, wherein the Jews, accord∣ing to their custome, had sowed nothing, and were no more in hopes to gather any fruits. There was every where a very great desolation, but (as the favours of heaven happen often to good men in the bottome of their miseries) behold an unexpected accident, that pro∣vided farre other businesse for Lysias and his pupill! Philip took his time, and seeing his Rivall busied in that Jewish warre, was resolved to ruine him, and to make Eupator a companion of his misery, seeing he had rendred himself the instrument of his will. The decea∣sed King had a brother named Demetrius, who was at that time at Rome given in hostage, having not the liberty to return unto his Kingdome. Philip pricked with jealousie against Lysias, failed not to solicite that young Prince to seize upon the Empire, businesses be∣ing not yet well settled in the Nonage of King Eupa∣tor. It was an injustice and perfidiousnesse against the sovereign, but forasmuch as Antiochus the last dead father of Eupator had hereunto supplanted his Ne∣phew by the same artifices, Demetrius left not to heark∣en to it.

In those fair hopes of the Crown, and in his captivi∣ty, he was as a bird that torments himself in his cage upon the arrivall of a spring, and burned with a strong passion to have his dismission from the Roman Senate, to put in order, as he said, the affairs of the Kingdome, and to assist the King his nephew after his fathers death. But the Romans that took pity on the pupil by reason of Justice, and that feared lest this man would embroil the State, denyed him the liberty that he desired. Phi∣lip failed not to possesse himself of the city of Anti∣och the Metropolis of the Kingdome, and to tread out the way for Demetrius to his Nephew's throne. There were men suborned that ceased not to sow amongst the souldiers and people, That it was not a fundamentall Law in the Kingdome of the Seleucides that the Nephew should precede the uncle, and al∣though men had a mind to introduce it, that the father of the pretended King had abrogated it, usurping the Sceptre upon his Nephew; that one should do his race no injury to render it the same usage; that there was no reason to refuse a Prince of four and twenty years of age, well made, full of spirit, of courage, and au∣thority, to take a child that had neither strength nor counsel, nor industry, and which was born for nothing but to ruine all. To this was added, that it was not the bloud of the Seleucides that was upon the Throne, but that Lysias Reigned, and went about to render himself usurper of the Crown of Asia, which was the uttermost of reproaches that so generous a Nation could endure to see a man of nothing, insolent, savage, to make himself master of the most considerable part of the world, and to exercise a tyranny upon men of honour and merit that oppose his pernicious designs.

These complaints often redoubled ceased not to stirre up spirits, and to procure the change of State that followed. Lysias saw well that it was not now a time to be obstinate on the ruine of the Jews, nor to bu∣sie himself about the siege of one place, when the whole Realm was a tottering. He thought on nothing but on getting speedily out of that warre with some little honour, thinking it not convenient to provoke a people, mutinous enough, in that commotion. He caused the young King to look upon them with a

quite other countenance, and told him that it was best to let them live in peace, without disturbing them in the matter of Religion, assuring him that in all other cases they would contain themselves within their duty, and that good services enough might be drawn from them. Yet that he might not discover any lightnesse in this change, he laid all the fault upon Menelaus that was an Apostate Jew, and an enemy of his Na∣tion, who, he said, had been the cause of all the con∣fusion by his railing speeches; and therefore he made him serve for a sacrifice to that treaty of Peace; in which he singularly obliged the Jews, and washed away the blot that the favour expressed by him to this wicked villain had printed upon his face. He shewed by this action the counsel that Politicians give their Sovereigns, to abandon those to the publick hatred that have carried them to reproachable excesses, to disburden themselves of the envy; and if he had practised this example towards him that then made himself the teacher of it, his Sceptre had been more secured, and his life most lasting.

Lysias, before he raised the siege of Jerusalem, made an Oration publickly before the Principals of the Army and all the souldiery, alledging fair pre∣tenses for that resolution, but taking great heed not to discover the chief cause, for fear lest that news should wave the minds of those that inclined enough already to the side of novelty and sedition. He used a wonderfull diligence to render himself before the city of Antioch, into which he entred, and Philip, who found not himself yet strong enough to hold out a long siege, quitted to him the place, and fled away to Egypt. This first successe puffed up the heart of Lysias, who became exceeding haughty, and considered so little the Romans in that high puissance that made the earth to tremble, that he permitted an Embassadour, sent to him by the Senate, to be assassi∣nated, without shewing any reason.

In the mean time, one Diodorus that had bred up Demetrius in his infancy, transported himself from Syria to Rome, and animated him by a great vigour of words and reasons, to render himself an usurper of the Crown. He certified him that his Nephew Eu∣pator, which was a child but nine years old, was not any whit considered; that Lysias was the object of the publick execration, that he had confidence in no body, nor any one in him; that all the souldiery and people sought a new Master, and that he was assured, that if he did onely shew himself, though he should be followed but with one servant onely, all the world would run to him to carry him to the throne. He kindled so strongly the ambition of that young Prince, that he secretly stole away from Rome, and made ac∣count to go to the conquest of an Empire, accompanied onely with eight persons. He failed not upon the way to write to the Senate of Rome, making great excuses for his so sudden a departure, renewing the offers of his services, and the oaths of his fidelity, with a pro∣testation that he went not to trouble his Nephew, but to oppose Lysias that was an insolent fellow, and would bring under the subjection of his tyranny both the King and Kingdome; he forgat not to charge him with the murder of Octavius a Roman Embas∣sadour, that had been newly slain, adding that he would become the revenger of so cowardly a treachery.

The Romans seemed neither to be astonished nor angry at his going but attended the succsse of his affairs to make him answer. He quickly got as farre as the city of Tyre, and sent secretly Diodorus into Antioch to hear the reports, and sound the spirits of men, which he found very much disposed to a change.

Whereupon Demetrius declar'd himself, and took the Diadem with a generall applause of the Tyrians that made a great faction for him. Lysias with his Eupator found himself much surprised at the news, and deliberated a long time whether he should go out of that narrow passage to meet and fight with him, or intrench himself in the city of Antioch, or ex∣pect him with sure footing. This last advice seemed the more secure, but it was lesse glorious, suddenly to shut himself up upon the first brute of a sedition, and as a fearfull creature to run into his hole to hide himself. It was represented to him, That the sovereign remedy against those tumults, was to flie speedily to them, whereas delay would serve for nothing but to augment the boldnesse of the insolent; that ordinarily they were very much amated when they were set upon with vigour, before their conspiracy was settled; that many that were yet but half engaged would retire from them at the least rumour; that the Majesty of Kings bore something of great and sacred that asto∣nished the Rebels. In fine, that it appertained to the dignity of so high a Prince, and to the prudence of a Minister of State, to endure nothing base, but to put themselves suddenly into the field to defend their ho∣nour and their Kingdome, which are two things whose losse is irrecoverable.

Those that desired most the ruine of Lysias were the first to flatter him concerning Courage and Gene∣rosity, wishing nothing more then to see him in the field. This made him go out of Antioch to go meet Demetrius. But he that had seen himself so well ac∣companied in prosperity, found himself almost all alone in danger, for he was betrayed and sold by his own souldiers, who seized upon the young King and him, to deliver them to Demetrius who was yet in a great uncertainty of successe, and said to those that had elected him.

Companions, I am your work, and the question of my life, of your honour, of your goods, and of all that a mortall man can fear, or hope for, is this day to be decided. If ye persist in the good will ye bear to me, I esteem my self sufficiently and sufficiently rich. The Sceptre is nothing to me in comparison of the approbation of your judgements and of your choice, which ought now to be verified by your courage and by your arms: We march under the favour of the Gods of the Roman Empire, against a tyrant that hath possessed himself of that young Prince and of the Crown, to assassinate the one and rob the other. It is time either to defend Justice by our bloud, or to conquer the Empire by our sweat.

As he was upon these discourses, the news came wholly to him, that Lysias had been apprehended (with his pupil) by the consent of all the Legions, and they were to be brought to him prisoners. This grand word gave him joy mingled with some doubt, which made him meditate how he should use his fortune. He shewed that he had a very great sense of the honour that had been bestowed upon him, but he desired not to see Lysias nor his Nephew (as the Scripture assure us) whether it was that his heart was mollified with some tendernesse by the compassion of his bloud, or whether it was a wile of a Politician, who would not seem to do that which he procured to be done, that he might have lesse blame in that action, and that he might the more easily justifie himself to the Roman Senate about the death of the young King. The souldiers finish∣ed that which he had begun, slew Lysias, and laid their bloudy hands upon the person of poor Eu∣pator, without having any regard either to the inno∣cency of his life, or to the tendernesse of his age, or to

the character that he bore, so true it is that ambition is filled with a contageous venome that spares nothing for the satiating of it self.

Demetrius saw himself King by a generall consent of all the orders of the Realm, and had no more any thing to sear, unlesse it was from the Romans the dis∣stributers of Empires and of Glories. And therefore he employed all his cares to appease them by great submissions and reasons, that made them plainly see, that it was more for the interest of their State to pre∣serve then to destroy him. He sent them for this pur∣pose a solemne Embassage with great presents, and and above all, a Crown of an high price, for a mark that he submitted his Royall dignity to their dis∣cretion. Further yet, to testifie how he embra∣ced their loves and their revenges, he caused Lep∣tines and Isocrates the Gramarian to be put in chains, that were accused to have had an hand in the murdering of Octavius their Embassadour, and sent them away to Rome, to receive the sentence of the Senate. The Roman relished well all those references, and confirmed the new King in his pretensions upon the protestations that he made that he was not stain∣ed with his Nephews bloud, whom he said to have been taken away by the misfortune of a Sedition rai∣sed against him, without having any means to save himself; and if he had not made a search after the crime, he excused himself by the generality of the culpable, as being a thing ordinary enough, that sins that have an infinite multitude of complices have not any punishment.

He was no sooner upon the Throne but he saw him∣self involved by mishap in a warre against the Mac∣cabees. Alcimus that was a disloyall Jew, and a traitour to his Nation, pricked forward by the ambi∣tion of the Pontificate; and jealous, even to rage, of the great progresses of Judas, failed not to prepossesse the spirit of the King, who was a man of an easie be∣lief, to make black his adversary by most horrible ca∣lumnies, and to interest all the Kingdomes of Syria to his ruine. This forger of warres and battles obtain'd all that he did desire by detestable artifices, and caused armies to go to the ruine and desolation of his Coun∣trey. Judas Maccabeus upon this change kindled again his antient vigour, and rallied all his forces to oppose the Generalls of King Demetrius, so that at first he defeated some of them with a very famous rout, which more inflamed that Monarch, not being able to endure that his Arms should be cryed down at the beginning of his Reign; this made him send into the field Army upon Army with so great impetuous∣nesse, that there was no more any means left to make resistance.

Yet the great heart of the Maccabee could not yield, but sailed against wind and tide, the thoughts of his valour making him forget those of his danger. He had yet three thousand men very resolute fel∣lows, with which he promised himself to continue his victories; but when Bacchides the Generall was seen appear with an army of two and twenty thousand men, many withdrew themselves for fear of the dan∣ger, into which the Maccabee, following the ordinary tracts of his courage, was about to precipitate them. These run awayes beginning to wheel about to the other side, stole away so handsomely from the Army, that of three thousand there remained but eight hun∣dred. The Maccabee felt his heart much pierced, seeing himself forsaken of his brethren and of his friends in his greatest need; he burned with a desire to charge his enemies, but when he considered the small forces he had about him, his heart bled within him. It was an evident peril to approach the enemy, and death to retire from them; divers thoughts about this combate contended in his heart, but those that favour∣ed his boldnesse had the upper hand. Let us go (sayes he to his men) and try our fortune; let us essay whe∣ther we shall have heart enough to encountre the army that comes against us. The most considerate men replyed, that they wanted not any courage, but that their small appearance, would not be able to affront an army of two and twenty thousand men with a Regiment not compleat; and that it was ex∣pedient for them to retire that day to rallie some new troops, and to return to the combate with hopes of greater advantages. God forbid (replyed the Mac∣cabee) that our enemies should have that contentment to see us turn our backs and flie before them; this is a a thing I could never yet be taught since I took up arms. Ha! Where is that gallantry that I have alwayes seen in you? Ought we to be so much in love with life? If our hour be come let us die valourously for our brethren, and let us not leave a blemish upon the lustre of the honour that we have acquired.

He carries them away all by his authority, and they are already resolved to conquer or to die. The trum∣pets sounds on both sides, the earth eccho's with the noise of the arms, and shouts of the souldiers. Bac∣chides causes his dragoons armed with arrows and with slings to advance, who began the skirmish, and lead up a great battle that endured from the morning to the evening, the one combating by number, and the other by valour. And when the Maccabee saw that the best troops were on the right point about the person of Bacchides, he resolved to make his way thither, which he did, with a prodigious violence, making them lose their footing, and beating them back with much con∣fusion. But those on the left point that were yet fresh seeing the disorder of their companions, came to fall upon Judas and upon all his troop that were extremely wearied with having laid upon the place so many bo∣dies of the enemies. These defended themselves va∣liantly, but the multitude of those that set upon them on all parts overwhelmed them, and the incomparable Maccabee by having received many wounds, opened as many bloudy gates to his generous soul to flie away into the other world.

There are neither Colossus's nor Pyramids that can equall the deeds of this gallant man. Never did any man fight better, or for a better Cause. His heart was a source of generous flames; his hand was the thunder it self; his valour a miracle; his life an exam∣ple; and his death was like to be that of his whole countrey that would have buried it self in his tomb, if his brothers, Jonathan and Simon had not enlarged his conquests by the imitation of his prowesse.

The good party was much weakned by the decease of him that was the soul of his whole countrey, and it seemed that Judea would quickly be swallowed up by the great forces of King Demetrius: but the suc∣couring hand of the God of hosts was not wanting to his servants in the extremity of so many miseries. The pernicious Alcimus that had raised that whole storm, when he thought himself to be above his hopes, was smitten with a stroke from heaven, and died sud∣denly of a strange malady.

Demetrius, after a Reign of some years saw a great faction raised against him from that coast whence he least expected it, which deprived him of his Sce∣ptre and his life. His scornfull and haughty nature made him disdain the Kings his neighbours, even so farre as to offend them, by wayes of words and deeds. He was also little affable and courteous to his Sub∣jects that loved naturally to be caressed of their

Prince, and although at first he was of an humour good enough, yet he was so much changed, that having built a very sumptuous Castle near his capitall city, he lived there constantly to take his pleasure, and let himself be seen by very few. His people of Antioch that was on the other side arrogant enough, were in∣censed and wearied with his Reign. They began to raise rebellions that were fomented under hand by the Kings of Egypt, of Asia, and of Cappadocia that di∣strusted him, and thought to find him a successour.

He was quite astonished when he saw one Pompa∣lus, a young man, before that time unknown, that called himself the son of Antiochus the Illustrious, and brother of Eupator, come and demand the King∣dome of Syria, as appertaining to him by right of birth. Many Historians hold that it was a pure fiction, and that that pretended was suborned by the artifice of those three Kings, and namely of Ariara∣thes the Cappadocian: yet since the Scripture names him the son of Antiochus the Illustrious, I find that it is very probable to follow that which others have writ∣ten, and to say that that Antiochus had heretofore made love to a young Rhodian woman named Bala, on whom he had begotten this naturall son with his sister Laodice. He failed not to shew himself at Rome, and to make himself be somewhat taken notice of by the practices of one Heraclides, a wise and crafty man in managing businesses. The enemies of Demetrius embraced this occasion to disturb him, and carried (as much as they were able) this man to the Throne, not by reason of Justice, but because they believed they should have a better market for their pretensions by making a new creature, then suffering any longer him they had rendred more absolute, then they desired he should be.

It is a strange thing that a man of nothing found instantly Cities, Armies, and a Kingdome at his de∣votion. It was now that Jonathan, the brother and successour of Judas, was sought after, and sued to by those two adversary Kings with extreme earnestnesse. Pompalus that took the name of Alexander, wrote him letters full of honour, offering him the Principa∣lity and Pontificate of his Nation, qualifying him with the name of friend, and sending him a purple Robe with a Crown of gold. Demetrius, whom ne∣cessity had rendred very courteous, made him also on the other side a thousand fair promises to draw him to his party. He exempted him from all Tributes, he took away the Garrisons, he gave him places of importance by a free gift, he received the Jews to offices and governments, he restored all those of their Nation that he held in Hostage, He granted them an intire Liberty in their Religion, and Policy, and Re∣venues also for the Temple, so that there was nothing more to be desired.

Yet Jonathan would never range himself under his Standards▪ but (as injuries being yet fresh, smart more then old ones) the Jews chose rather to give themselves to the son of their most cruel persecutour then to De∣metrius that had taken from them their dear Macca∣bee, and held yet their liberty under oppression. The party already made against that miserable Prince for∣tified it self every day, and although he took all the good order that his affairs seemed to require, yet he could not divert his unhappinesse that dragged him to a precipice. It is true that he got the better in some small encountres, but when the great battle that was to decide the controversie of the Kingdome was to be given, he saw himself very much forsaken, and his ene∣my assisted with the best forces of all Asia. He failed not for all that to fight with all possible valour, and although his Army was scattered, he would never fly, but cast himself in the hottest of the mingling, killing many of his enemies with his own hand. His horse having taken a false step slipped himself into a slough whence he could not get out; but he suddenly quitted him, got himself on foot, and made a great spectacle, a King covered with dirt and bloud, with his sword in his hand, that laid about with a stiffe arm, and without remission sustained the hail of arrows that the enemy let flie upon him, standing inflexible against all those disastres of his evil fortune. In fine, he would not quit his Crown but with his life, and buried him∣self in honour.

Every one bows under the happinesse of that false Alexander; he mounts suddenly upon the Throne of his adversary, where he receives the services and ado∣rations of all the world. Philometer the King of Egypt, that had much upheld his party, in which he sought his own interests, gives him his daughter Cleo∣patra in marriage, whose wedding was magnificently celebrated in the city of Ptolomais, in the presence of the two Kings, the father-in-law and the son-in-law, where Jonathan was also present that was caressed of both the two by extraordinary favours, and mana∣ged the businesses of his State with all possible ad∣vantages.

Alexander seeing himself in unexpected riches, and amidst so many ornaments of a borrowed fortune, could not contain himself, but let himself flag in a sluggish and voluptuous life, abandoning all the af∣fairs of his Kingdome to the discretion of one Ammo∣nius, a young brainlesse fellow, who carried himself most insolently, and incensed the Queen Laodice, and all the Nobles of the Court in such a manner, as that he was at last set upon, and slain in the habit of a woman which he had put on to secure himself; God thus ta∣king vengeance of his filthy and effeminate life. The Antiochians were first weary of the dissolute life of their Prince that was alwayes in the midst of wine and women, which made them believe that he was a sup∣posititious King that had nothing in him of generous. They began to regret Demetrius, whom they had seen dic with so much courage, and knowing that he had left two sons yet very young, one of which bore his fathers name, and the other was called Antiochus Si∣detes; They invited the elder of them, giving him as∣surance that he should have the Crown.

Philometor that was ashamed of the deportments of his son-in-law, and that under pretence of modera∣tion desired nothing lesse then to adde the Diadem of Syria to that of Egypt, well knowing that so many changes of Masters make a State shake, and give fair advantages to those that would invade them, upholds this Rebellion, forsakes Alexander, and by a nota∣ble affront takes away his daughter from him to give her to the young Demetrius. And to colour his in∣constancy, he made a Manifest that published, That his son-in-law (by an execrable disloyalty) had made an attempt upon his Kingdome, and upon his life, which made him break the friendship that he had sworn with him. Under this pretence he seizes on some places which it was easie for him to keep whiles he made himself authour of the fortune of the new King. The miserable Alexander awaking out of his surfeits, saw the Egyptian and all his Subjects ban∣dyed against him, and a great army that was coming to fall upon his head, which he resisted feebly, and quickly forsook his party going to hide himself in the bottomes of Arabia, where he was hunted after and entrapped by Zabdiel the Arabian, who cut off his head, and carried it to the King of Egypt, who contemplated it a long time with a spirit more then sal∣vage, for which he was punished of God, and dyed

three dayes after of the wounds he had received by a fall from his horse at the defeating of his son-in-law.

Behold marvellous sports of fortune, and great revolutions that ended not at this point yet. Deme∣trius, young of age and government, was not a man to settle a Kingdome shaken with so great concussi∣ons. He thought more of taking the pleasures of Roy∣alty then of bearing the burden of it; businesses were to him as many punishments, and pastime a continuall exercise. This was the cause of new factions and great seditions that were raised in his Kingdome. The Maccabees, whom he gained to his party, rendred him very good offices, although he was more ready to re∣ceive them, then liberall to reward them.

In the weaknesse of this new Government started up the disloyall Tryphon, who had been Captain of the Guard to the false Alexander, and having seized himself of a little child that his Master had left be∣hind him, he had the boldnesse to propound him for King and true Successour of the Crown. When he saw that Jonathan already obliged to Demetrius was able to oppose his designs, and to unravel the web of his ambitions, he surprised him by a detestable trea∣chery, and caused him to be assassinated with his chil∣dren, after he had received the money that he had de∣manded for his ransome.

The young King altogether astonished at the party that was made against him, withdrew himself to the K. of Parthia, to desire assistance of him, where it hap∣ned, that by the calumny of his enemies, he was clapt up in an honourable prison, as if he had come to make an attempt upon the Kingdome of his neighbour. His spirit, that was alwayes wanton, made love even in that captivity, and debauched a daughter of that King his host, whom he was constrained to wed, although he was already married, and when he had stoln out of prison, he was caught and brought back again to this new wife.

Tryphon knowing what had befaln him, caused his Pupil to be murdered by an execrable cruelty, feign∣ing that he had been taken away by a naturall death, and took the Diadem, professing himself to be the re∣venger of the Tyrant, and the lawfull King of Syria. After some time, the liberty of the young Demetrius was mediated, but his wife Cleopatra, that had a crafty and proud spirit, vext with the inconstant loves of her husband, and wearied with his loosenesse, raised up against him puissant enemies that massacred him, and some are of opinion that she her self was one of the complices of that attempt, and that Demetrius his brother, whom she married afterwards, was not inno∣cent of it. My pen hath horrour at these bloudy tra∣gedies, and passes over them as upon burning coals.

Antiochus Sidetes seeing himself on his brothers Throne, eagerly pursued Tryphon, and besieged him in the city of Dora, where finding himself extremely straightned, and out of all hopes of succour, he killed himself with his own hand, and yet could not deface by his bloud the villanous stain of perfidiousnesse that remained upon him by the death of the young King.

The Conquerour perceiving himself above his busi∣nesses, saw that the Maccabees, in the troubles of Syria, possessed by so many Kings, had made great pro∣gresses, would represse them, and made warre against Simon that succeeded his brother Jonathan, and who was afterward assassinated at a banquet by Ptolomy his son-in-law. The King, as 'tis thought, upholding by his favour that cruel basenesse, two of his sonnes were involved in the misery of the father, and the mur∣derers were already dispatched to adde to them John Hircan son of the same Simon. But he, having had intelligence of that first design, stood upon his guard, and governed Judea the space of more then thirty years with much prudence and happinesse; out∣living a long time that last Antiochus that was stoned to death as he was going to pillage the Temple of Mannaea.

Hyrcan had for Successour his son Aristobulus who took the Diadem, and resumed the name of King a∣mong the Jews, after a long discontinuation, which hapned an hundred years before the Nativity of our Lord. Those of his race failed not to continue the Re∣gall Dignity in their house, till that Hyrcan which was so cruelly spoiled and mafsacred by Herod, as I have said in the history of Mariamne.

Behold how the virtue of Judas Maccabeus ex∣tended it self through many Ages, and without think∣ing of it, put the Crown upon the head of those that were of his family and of his name, God recompencing his Zeal and Justice beyond the fourth generation. I have endeavoured to make in this discourse a little abridgement of that which is contained in the two books of Maccabees, and relate it to you (my Reader) in a streight line, and a method clear enough, hoping that you will have content and edification to see the Justice of God reign over so many crowned heads, who ceases not to punish the wicked, and to render to the good, safety and glory for a recompence of their virtue.

GODFREY of Bovillon. GEORGE CASTRIOT.

[illustration]

[illustration] portrait of George Castriot

GEORGE CASTRIOT OR SCANDERBERG

[illustration] portrait of Godfrey of Bouillon

GODFREY OF BOVILLON

IT was not the voyce of a man, but an Oracle of the holy Spirit that Pope Ʋrban the second pronounced, when he gave to the Crofier for a Devise, God will have it so: This speech was the soul of all the Intentions of Godfrey of Bovillon, It was the But of all his Actions. God never made the prodigious effects of his power more visibly appear then in the conduct of this most Il∣lustrious Personage. It was a Captain formed in his Bosome, and instructed by his hand, that was to break the chains of the Christians, and to pull down the pride of the Sultans.

So many other Expeditions were almost all splitted, but this of Godfrey bore a God would have it so, and nothing resisted its Good hap. Many men torment themselves all their life-time in great designs that are as the Dragons, the Chimera's and armed men, that our fancy shapes upon the body of a Cloud. The wind drives them, the divers postures confound them, the As∣spects change them, and all that we behold with admi∣ration in the Heavens falls in water upon our head, and makes morter under our feet.

How many Princes have made great preparations both of Men and Elephants, of Horses and of Ships, of Arms and Ammunitions, out of a design to make great Conquests! and all this hath vanished for want of a God will have it so. There are certain impressions in great affairs which are never found without the fa∣vours of heaven. One God will have it so, will make us sail in the Sea upon an Hurdle or upon a Tortoise∣shell; one God will not have it so will drown us in a well Rigged Ship.

It was a God wills it, that seized in an instant the spirit of the most excellent Cavaliers of Europe, to under∣take a voyage into the Holy Land; It was a God wills it that made them followed by innumerable multi∣tudes of Mortals. But it was also a God wills it that made them cast their eyes upon Godfrey of Bovillon, as upon the most valiant, the most happy, and the most able to pluck Jerusalem out of the hands of Saladine.

The King of the Bees appears not more visible in the middle of his swarm, then this great Captain ap∣peared amongst an infinite number of Cavaliers as∣sembled to revenge the holy Sepulchre. There was not one onely ray of the eyes that beheld him that did not expresse some favour to his Merit; he had as many Approvers as Spectatours, and every man signed him his Commissions even by his silence.

That illustrious blood of the Heroes that ran in his veins, that advantageous Stature that raised him the head above so many Millions of men, that face that Majesty had chosen for her throne, that tongue that carried insensible chains to captivate mens hearts, that comelinesse of the forehead that was at once modest and bold, that valour that was painted on all his limbs, that courage that kindled a delightfull fire in his eyes; All the Virtues that seemed to march about his Person, and in fine, that finger of God that had imprnited on him the Character of Conquerour, made him be chosen as the first Moover of that won∣derfull design.

There was nothing but his Modesty that opposed the desires of all the World, and that would make him yield to some other man that which every one con∣ferred on him. But the consideration of the publick good carried him away, and made him load upon his shoulders a burden that might tire the Gyants. It is true that Hugues the King of France his brother held the first rang by the highnesse of his House: but coun∣sell, execution of great designs, and experience com∣pleated in all sorts of accidents gave to Godfrey the Managing of the Arms.

Our Army was found to be three hundred thousand Foot, and an hundred thousand Horse, that seemed to carry away the Masse of the earth, yet the Sarazins were not discouraged, but assembled themselves on all sides with so prodigious a Multitude, that it might, as it seemed, equall the veins of the Abysse, and the sands of the Sea-shore.

The controversie was for Religion, Honour, and goods, between two Nations that aspired to the Do∣mination

of the World, and that esteemed all sharing inconsistent with their Greatnesse. The one came thi∣ther moved by their superstition, that had gained a mervellous advantage over spirits possessed by errour, and enchanted by the charmes of a false Prophet. The other was carryed by the true Religion, perswading themselves, that they had all Justice to pluck the Se∣pulchre of their Master out of the hands of Infidels, and that it would be an immortall Glory to them to lose their Bloud in the same place that Jesus had ho∣noured with his.

Mans Spirit is overwhelmed with the Number of Wonders that are read in the History of this Warre. The Historians cannot follow them, and we must averr that the Brave Godfrey having farre surpassed the deeds of Achilles and of Hector, hath had the misfortune to want an Homer.

He gave more then an hundred Battels before he saw himself at the end of his design; He fought with two Nations, that seemed Furies which Hell had vomited upon the Earth, he combated with Hunger, Thirst, Sicknesse, and all the damnable Artifices of Negro∣mancers that opposed his Valour. The eternall snow of the Mountain Taurus, the inaccessible Rocks, the Rivers dyed with bloud, the Seas armed with Tempests and with Monsters did never abate his ardour.

He was ready to enter for the love of his Saviour in∣to Regions where Nature is nothing but a benummed masle, where the Sun hides it self, and the night reigns without a Peer, where the most salvage Barbarisme makes us believe that it is ranged even as far as the Gates of Hell.

The City of Nicea that bore the name of victory it self, was the first that presented Palms to this our Conquerour. It was there, that Solyman one of the most Illustrious Generalls of the Barbarians was bea∣ten and quite vanquished, all his Army being put into a Rout, with an exceeding Massacre, that filled Asia with the terrour of the Christian Arms. It was there that the Valiant Godfrey killed with his own hand a Rabshakeh, that braved it upon the wals of Nicea, with an immeasurable presumption of his strength. The Ci∣ty was wonne, and the vigorous storms of the be∣siegers beat down before them all the resistances of the besieged.

The proud Antioch followed quickly after, and al∣though that Corbanes was come to its reliefe with in∣numerable troops of Parthians, Medes, Assyrians, he could not stop the current of the prosperities of this in∣vincible Generall, but augmented by the losse of all his Legions the terrour of that victorious arm that overthrew smoaking Cities, and made in all places a deluge of the bloud of the Barbarians.

The Caliphe of Egypt that was now advanced to divert the Fatall Day of his Sect, saw himself in∣volved in the same ruines that he thought to have re∣payred.

All their attempts now remained but for the City of Jerusalem, which was the Object and Desire of our heavenly Argonauts. It was assaulted and defen∣ded with a vigour that never yet had its equall. But in the end it yielded to the Armes of the Christians. It was here that the Illustrious Godfrey was seen to combat upon an Ingine of wood that he had caused to be raised, to enter into the City. He appeared that day, not as a Man, but as a Demi-God, all flaming in the brightnesse of his Arms, whiles the Hail of Arrows flew about his Head, and his Arm mowing the Turbans of the Sarazins made way through fire and sword. He entred first of all in bright day in the sight of the Army into Jerusalem, and pitched the the Standard of the Crosse in the place where Jesus had consecrated it with his Bloud. What Acclama∣tions! What Congratulations! What Palms and Lawrels! The Turks fled as the pale Ghosts of Hell, and the Christians erected on all parts the Trophies of our Redeemer upon their ruines.

It was then that all the Princes proclaimed him King of the conquered Countrey, thinking that there was not any one more worthy of it, in the rest of the whole world, seeing that he had joyned to that prodi∣gious Valour the virtues of Religion, Piety, Justice, Prudence, Liberality, Magnificence, Goodnesse, Cle∣mency and affability.

They failed not to offer him a Royall Crown rich∣ly adorned with Pearls and precious stones, but this good Prince filled with the zeal of Devotion said, What! should I bear the name of King in the place where my Master hath been covered with Reproaches? Should I take the Sceptre in my hand, where he hath taken the Crosse upon his shoulders? Should I suf∣fer a Crown of Gold to be put upon my head, where he hath received one of Thorns? Sure I should then hold my self for vanquished, if such a vanity should be victorious over my heart. It is God that hath in∣spired into us these designs, it is he that hath condu∣cted them, and that hath Crowned them. I pretend to no other honour, then to hang all honours at the feet of his Crosse.

He contented himself with the name of Duke, and set himself presently about labouring in the Civil Go∣vemment, to purge the Citie of all its Infamies, to pull down the Mosqueta's to build Churches, to give a lu∣stre to the Clergie, to cause the Gospel to be preached, to found Hospitals, to Administer Justice, to order the Militia for the defense of his Conquest, and in a word to do all the duties of a most accomplished Mo∣narch. But (can we speak it without a Groan?) his Reign lasted but a year, and so many fair hopes were mowed down in their flower, by the pitylesse sythe of Death. O impenetrable secrets of Providence! There was nothing beyond Jerusalem, there was nothing be∣yond Godfrey, but God and Paradise, that could li∣mit his designs, and bound his Conquests.

GEORGE CASTRIOT.

OYe Tombs of the Grecians, whose Ashes seem yet to exhale Valour, rejoyce now, and hide not the names you bear, for fear they should shame Posterity that hath degenerated from their Virtues. Brave Ancestours! the Glory of your Nation is not yet extinguished; It is raised again in one sole Man, who hath recollected in his Person whatsoever generosity had sowen in so ma∣ny Hearts, and whatsoever Honour had stuffed in so many Trophies.

I see in Castriot a certain object greater then Leo∣nidas, and Themistocles: I see Pyrrhus, I see A∣lexander; and if his Enemies have been more stout then the Macedonians, his Valour ought not for that to seem the lesse.

He was a Souldier as soon as he was born a Man; Nature pleased to engrave a Sword upon his Body, at the same time as she inspired Courage into his Heart.

That Stature so proper, that Countenance so fil∣led with Majesty, those Limbs so strong and so Ro∣bustuous, those Eyes that mingle the Rainbow with the Lightning, those hands that seem to have been made for nothing but to bear the Thunder, those Feet that move not one onely step that savours not of a King, have told betimes that which fame hath after∣ward related to all ages.

Little Eaglet! that begannest in thy most innocent years to play with Lightning, thou oughtest not to have been so valiant, or thou oughtest to have had a more happy Father. Shall we say that fortune was unjust, in that it prepared chains for this young vir∣tue, when she should have planted Laurels? Let us rather say that Providence was very wise in that she found out matter for this great Heart, that would have consumed it self in its own flames, if it had not met with some obstacles to resist it.

It was meet that this Hercules should beginne to strangle Serpents from his Cradle; It was meet that he should be bred in the middle of his enemies to Com∣bate from his Infancy with that which he was to a∣bate in his riper age.

His Father John Castriot, who had little strength and much misery was constrained to give him for an Hostage to Amurath the Turk, to be brought up at his Gate.

Moses now is in Pharohs house, and Constantine in Dioclesians, but the Path is here more dangerous, because it leadeth to the ruine of Salvation, and of Ho∣nour. His proud Master, that loves him with a Love worse then all the Hatred in the world, would fit him for himself and for his infamous pleasures. He aims at the one by the Circumcision that is imprinted on his flesh by an unhappy violence, he pursues the other by shamefull courtings which are to the Gallant child farre bitterer then Death. He had (as 'tis reported) courage enough to take the sword in hand against him, that Pursued him with nothing but with flowers; He drew blood from him, when nothing could be expected of him but Tears, and put himself in danger of ex∣perimenting the horriblest Torments that the Cruelty of those inhumane people could invent, rather then to deliver voluntarily his Soul to sinne, and his Body to dishonour. His cruell friend was astonished at so brave a Resolution, and turned the furies that he had prepa∣red for his Innocence, into the admiration of his Valour.

The Seraglio Imposes on him the name of Scander∣beg, that is the same as Alexander which he took by a good omen, to fill up therewith the whole capa∣city of his brave exploits. He was educated in all the exercises of Warre in the Academy of the Turks, where he succeded with so much force, Art, Liking, and Approbation, that every one carried him in his eyes, every one looked on him as a singular prop of Mahomets Empire. But he bore alwayes Jesus in his heart; he alwayes thought on the means that he might find to break his chain; he felt in the bottome of his most generous soul flames that burned him inces∣santly with the zeal he had to raise again the levelled Altars of the Christians, and to destroy the estate of the Ottomans.

Amurath saw some sparkles of it flying in his con∣versation, although he endeavoured to cover his design with a great prudence. The Master began to fear the Slave, and was affraid to nourish in his Court a Ly∣on that might be able to shew him one day his Teeth.

He endeavoured to destroy him in various encoun∣tres, making the Excesse of his courage contribute to the Hazard of his Person. A resolute Scythian came to Amurath's Court, challenging the boldest to fight all Naked with a Poniard in the inclosure of a perillous Circle, where, of necessity one must Dye, or Conquer. That man had carryed away already many bloody Palms, and put so much confidence in his strength, that they were (according to his speech) but the sacri∣fices of Death that dared to attend the Thunder of his Arm. Every one trembled for fear, when as the va∣liant Castriot undertook him, and putting his Thrust aside with one hand, killed him with the other, with the acclamations of joy of all those that envy hin∣dred not from applauding Valour.

This Combat having not succeeded well for Amu∣rath, he raises at another time a Persian Cavalier that kept a stirre to fight on Horse-back with a Lance. He was a man accomplished in that Trade, who with much chearfulnesse of heart transported himself into Cities and Provinces, where he promised himself that he should find Adversaries to exercise his Arms, and increase his Reputation. He curvetted up and down in the List proudly Plum'd, and his flaming Arms made him appear that day as the great Constellation of Orion amidst the lesser Starres.

A David was needfull for this Goliah, our young Alexander assaults him, falls upon him as an Eagle, handles him very roughly, and at length laid him on the sand where he vomited out his soul and bloud, doing a sad homage to valour by a just punishment of his rash∣nesse.

But Amurath that played the part of Saul failed not to find out some new occasions to Exercise his Da∣vid. He gave him all the most hazardous Employ∣ments of the warre, wherein he had still so good suc∣cesse, that he changed all the Subjects of his Ruine into Trophies, and returned Crowned with Laurels even out of the Bottome of Abysses, and out of the throat of Lyons.

The perfidious Sultan entertained him with good words, but handled him with bad deeds. He promi∣sed him to restore him his estates after his Father's

Death, but John Castriot's last hour made it appear, that if his words were full of artifice, his promises were but wind.

Scanderbeg impatient to stay for that which should never come, payes himself by his own hands, and sei∣zes himself of his Kingdome of Albania, playing the crafty fellow by a Countre-Craft. The Alarm of it is in the Court, and all Amuraths Passions tend to no∣thing but Revenge. Haly Bassa is sent with an Army of Fourty thousand men to dispatch the Businesse. But all his Troops are cut in pieces; and he had nothing more honourable in his Expedition then that he was conquered by the brave Castriot. Feria and Musta∣pha pursue the same design with new Forces that expe∣riment the same fortune.

What shall we say more of Scanderbeg's Great∣nesse? Amurath besecches, the Turban is humbled; that visage of the Tyrant that was the same as that of Cruelty it self, is mollified and takes the Lineaments of a supplyant, after it had born during his whole Life those of Rigour. He desires Peace, and it is de∣nyed him, and sues for an agreement, and is slighted. His arrogance being sorely pricked vomits out nothing but whirlwinds of fire, and comes to fall before Croye the Capitall City of the Valiant Castriot, with an Army of two hundred thousand men. The other de∣fends himself with six thousand. One onely place bayes that great Deluge, the Storm is scattered, the Siege raised, the shame of it remains on the face of the Sul∣tan with so lively a Tincture, that the Shadow of death must passe over it to blot it out. He that had lived with Glory, dyes with the sadnesse of his Ignominy, and carries with him into the other World the un∣ability to revenge himself, and an eternall desire of vengeance.

Mahomet his sonne, the Scourge and Terrour of the Universe, that overthrew two Empires, took two hundred Cities, killed twenty Millions of Men, comes to split against the same Rock. Was there need of so much blood to write upon Castriot's Trophies the Title of Invincible?

Who would Imagine that a mortall man should have gone so farre? who should believe that those ex∣ploits were the Actions of a slave? Truly we must avow, that he lent his Name to God, in all this busi∣nesse, and that God lent his Arm to him. It is said of him, that he never refused Battell, never turned his back, never was wounded but once very Lightly. He slew two thousand Barbarians with his own hand, which he cleft ordinarily with his Coutelax, from the head down to the Girdle. Mahomet desired to see that Thunder-bolt that he bore in his hands, and had it in veneration although so many times bedewed with his Subjects blood. He saw the Steel, but he never saw the Arm that gave it Life.

O brave Castriot! If the State of Christians could have been delivered from the Tyranny of the Sultans, it should have been by thy hands. We must now ac∣knowledge that our wounds are irrecoverable, seeing that our divisions hinder us from enjoying the succour of so Divine an hand. The Feaver that took thee hence in the City of Lissa, in the Climactericall of se∣ven and nine, the most to be feared by old men, ex∣tinguished all our hopes by the same burnings that con∣sumed thy Body. After thou hadst lived the most Ad∣mirable of Captains, thou dyedst like a truly Religi∣ous, melting the hearts of all those that beheld thee by a most sensible Devotion. Thy victorious spirit soared up to the Palace of the Beautifull Sion, after it had performed in the Body all that was possible for a most eminent Virtue, and an Happinesse, to which nothing was wanting but imitatours. The most barbarous thy Enemies have kissed thy Sepulchre, have Reveren∣ced thy Ashes, and shared thy Bones as the dea∣rest Reliques of Valour. And now thou hast no more to do with a Tomb, seeing that thy Memory hath found as many Monuments, as there are Hearts in all ages.

BOUCICAUT. BAYARD.

[illustration]

[illustration] portrait of Jean Le Maingre

BOVCICAVD

[illustration] portrait of Bayard

BAYARD

WE need not search the Catalogue of Saints and Martyrs for a Souldier Furnished before God and men with great and Divine virtues. Behold one a∣mong a thousand, I mean the brave Marshal Boucicaut, who flourished in France under Charles the Sixth. Those petty Rodomonts, who boast of their Duels, but indeed meer cowardise varnished with a glossy colour of va∣lour, durst not behold this most excellent Cavalier, with∣out doing that which was antiently done to the Statues of the Sunne, that is, to put finger on the mouth, and admire. For, not to mention his other acts of prowesse, it is he who was present at that daring Battell which the Turkish Emperour Bajazet waged against the King of Hungary; the Duke of Burgundy, then cal∣led the Count of Nevers, with many other of the French Gentry, being there in person.

The History relateth, that the Turkish Emperour coming to fight with dreadfull forces, began so furi∣ous a charge, the air being darkned with a black cloud of Arrows, that the Hungarians, who were alwayes re∣puted good Souldiers, being much amazed with this fierce assault, fled away. The French, who in all Bat∣tels had ever learned to conquer or dye, not willing to hear so much as the least speech of the name of flight, pierced into the Turkish army, notwithstanding a field of Pikes and stakes fastned in the earth did hinder their approch, and attended by some other Troops, brake the Vangard of the Turks, by the counsell and exam∣ple of this brave Marshall; whereat Bajazet much amazed, was about to retire, but that at the same time it was told him, that it was but a very little hand∣full of Frenchmen that made the greatest resistance, and that it was best for him to assault them. The Turk, who kept his Battalions very fresh, returneth, and fell like lightning upon these poor Souldiers now extreamly wearied. Never did an angry Lyon exercise more vio∣lent force against the Hunters Javelins, then this gene∣rous Cavalier shewed prowesse which shined in the midst of the adventurous Pagans. For, seeing himself at last negligently betraied, he having no other purpose but to sell his own life and those of his companions at as dear a rate as he could, he with the French Cavalry, and some other people that stuck to him, did such feats of Arms, that it was thought twenty thousand Turks were slain in the place. At last this prodigious multi∣tude, able to tire out the most hardy, although it had been but to cut them in pieces, did so nearly encompasse our French, that the Count of Nevers, with Marshall Boucicaut and other the most worthy Personages, were taken Prisoners.

The next day after this dismall Battell, the proud Bajazet sitting under a Pavillion spread for him in the field, caused the prisoners to be brought before him, to drench himself in blood and revenge, which he alwayes most passionately loved.

Never was seen a spectacle more worthy of Com∣passion; * 1.1 The poor Lords who had wrought wonders in Arms, able to move Tygers, were led to the slaugh∣ter, half naked, straight bound with cords and fetters, no regard being had either to their bloud, which was noble, or youth which was pitifull, or their behaviour which was most ravishing; These Saracens ugly and horrible as Devils, set them before the face of the Ty∣rant, who in the twinkling of an eye caused their throats to be cut at his feet, as if he meant to carouse their bloud.

The Count of Nevers, with the Count of Ewe and the Count of Marche had now their heads under the Symiter, and their lives hung as it were by a thread, when Bajazet, who had heard by his interpreters that they were near Kinsmen to the King of France, caused them to be reserved, commanding them to sit at his feet on the ground, where they were enforced to behold the lamentable butchery of their Nobility.

The valiant Boucicaut, covered with a little linnen cloth▪ in his turn was brought forth to be massacred o∣ver the bodies of so many valiant men. He, being wise, and in this extremity particularly inspired by God,

made a sign with his fingers before Bajazet, because he understood not his Language, as if he would declare himself the Kinsman of the Count of Nevers, who beheld him with so pitifull an eye, that it was able to have rent the most rocky-heart. Bajazet being perswa∣ded by this sign that he was of the Bloud Royall cau∣sed him to be let a part among the prisoners; where af∣terwards by his great wisdome he endeavoured the li∣berty of those noble Gentlemen, and his own. I can∣not think that the puny Novices of war of our time, will compare themselves to the valour of this Heroick man, accomplished with such gallant prowesse.

Let us come, if you please, and look into his de∣portment and conversation, and consider whether he were of the number of those who professe themselves wicked that they may seem valiant. Our Boucicaut was a man who whilest in time of peace he governed the City of Genoa, heard daily two Masses, with so ex∣emplar devotion, that he never suffered any man to speak to him in the Church; where he said the office with singular attention, for which he so accommoda∣ted his company, that you should never see the least action of uncomlinesse in Divine Service, which he did not severely punish. And the Historian addeth, that he who had beheld his people at Divine Service, would rather think he saw Religious men then Soul∣diers. Noblemen have power to draw their families to what posture they please, were it not through pusilla∣nimity of spirit they many times give way to the tor∣rent of nurture: and contenting themselves to be good, make all the rest naught by the easinesse of their Na∣tures. I mention not here a Canonized Saint, an Her∣mit, a Religious man, or a Priest; I speak of a Mar∣shall of France, of a most ardent Warriour and Va∣liant Souldier.

Behold, I pray, whether Piety be imcompatible with Arms. This Brave Captain happily made his Will, disposing of all his devotions, his affairs and Charge: each day he executed some part hereof, doing all the good he could whiles he lived, not expecting the casuall portions of others piety, as those who cause Torches to be carried behind to light them when they have lost their eyes, and, indeed, never do well but when they are in a condition to be able to do no more. This charitable Lord particularly informed himself of the ne∣cessities of the bashfull poore, and as the rarest pieces of his Cabinet, set their names down in his Register: He appointed on every side his Alms to the poor Reli∣gious, to Widows, to Orphans, to needy Souldiers, namely to those who through disability of old age and sicknesse could labour no more. He visited Hospitals, giving according to his means round summes of money to furnish and accommodate them; if he walked in the streets he ever had charity in his hands, that himself might give all he could, for he took therein a singular contentment, and never was he seen to be so merry, as when he had distributed good store of money; This was to him as his hunting, his game, his delight.

He bare a singular devotion, in memory of the pas∣sion of our Saviour, towards the fryday; and whilest he was able, did eat nothing on that day but fruits and Puls, absteining from all which participated of the life of Beasts, and clothed himself likewise in a most sim∣ple habit, desirous to shew outwardly some taste of the Reverence we owe to the bloud of the sonne of God. Besides abstinencies commanded, he fasted ordinarily on the Saturday, which is dedicated to the memory of the Blessed Virgin. He never fed at his repast but on one dish, and though he had great quantity of silver Vessels, he caused himself to be served in Peuter and Earth, being glorious in publick, but in his particular an enemy to worldly pomps and vanities.

I leave you to contemplate, how far this kind of life is alienated from the curious Nobility of our dayes, to whom so many Dispensations and Priviledges must daily be given, that it seems, it is needfull for their sakes onely to create another Christendome, besides that which hath been established by the Sonne of God. A man would say, to see how they pamper their bo∣dies, they were descended from heaven, and that thi∣ther they would return, without passing through the Grave, they Deifie themselves, and to fatten and guild a stinking Dunghill covered over with snow; they sport with the bloud and sweat of men.

Superfluity of taste being so well qualified, all went in true measure in the house of this good Mar∣shall: his retinue was well enterteined according to his quality, and he had a very solemn custome by him religiously observed, which was speedily to pay his debts, and as much as he might possible to be ingaged to none. It is no small virtue, nor of mean importance to be out of ingagements of this kind; if we consider the Nobility at this time, so easily plunged in great labyrinths of Debts, which daily increase like huge Snow-balls that fall from the mountains, and require Ages and golden Mines to discharge them.

Is it not a most inexcusable cruelty before God and man, to see a busie Merchant, a needy Artificer, eve∣ry day to multiply his journeyes and steps before the gate of a Lord or a Lady, who bear his sweat and bloud in the pleits of their garments? And in stead of giving some satisfaction upon his most just demands, it is told him he is an importunate fellow, and many times is menaced with bastinadoes, if he desist not to demand his own. Is not this to live like a Tartarian? Is not this to degrade ones self from Nobility, Chri∣stianity and Reason? Is not this to ruine, and as it were to cut the Throats of whole Houses and Families? Alledge not to me, that it is impossible for you to pay what is demanded at present: foreseeing your weak∣nesse of estate, why have you heaped so many debts which cannot be discharged!

Why do you not rather lessen your port, and live more frugally? Why do you not cast off many su∣perfluous things that might be spared? Are not of∣fences odious enough before God, but you must in∣crease them with the marrow of the poor? From hence cometh the contempt of your Persons, the hatred of your Name, the breaches and ruine of your Houses.

This man by paying his debts well, was honoured and respected of his Officers like a Demy-god: there was no need of making any question or doubt, nor to make a false step into his house. He would never suffer a Vice, or bad servant, were it to gain an Em∣pire. Blasphemies, Oaths, Lyes, Slanders, pastimes, Quarrels and such like disorders were banished from his Palace as monsters: and if he once found any of his family in fault he put them away least they should infect the other: yet he would not scandalize them, nor divulge their offences. At the Table he spake lit∣tle, and did voluntarily entertein himself with the ex∣ample of virtues which he observed in the lives of the Nobility: never discoursing of his own atchievements but with singular sobriety.

In his marriage he demeaned himself most chastely, and had such an hatred against impurity, that he would not so much as keep a servant that had a lustfull eye. Behold; how passing one day on horse-back through the streets of the City of Genoa, as a Lady presented her self at a window to comb her hair, and a Gentle∣man of the Marshalls train seeing her tresses very bright and beautifull cryed out, Oh what a goodly head of hair! standing still to behold her. This Lord looking

back on him with a severe eye, said, It is not well done, it is not fit that a wanton eye should be seen to glance from the house of a Governour.

In this kind and all others which concerned the com∣merce and peace of the Citizens, he rendred so ready and exact justice, that it was a Proverb amongst the Genoes when any one was offended, to say to him who had done him wrong: If you will not right me, my Lord Marshall will. The other understanding it, oft∣times rather chose to submit to the right, then expect a condemnation, which was inevitable. By this means he so gained the good opinion of the people, that the inhabitants of the City sent to the King, beseeching him, that he might continue the Government to the end of his dayes, which having obtained, it seemed to them, that they had procured an Angel from Heaven to be set at the Stern of their Common-wealth.

At that time when the Emperour of Constantinople, then dispossessed of one part of his Empire by the great Turk, came into France to desire succour, and had ob∣tained of the King twelve hundred men defrayed for a year, many widdow Ladies were seen at the Court, who complained of injustice and oppressions which were of∣ferred them after the death of their husbands; whereby this good Marshall was so moved with compassion, that with much freedome he instituted an Order of Knights for the defence of afflicted Ladies, which he sirnamed The Order of the White Ladie, because they who made profession of it bare a Scutcheon of gold en∣amelled with green, and thereon the figure of a Lady in a white Vestment: thus sought he by all occasions to do good, and shewed himself a great enemy of idle∣nesse, as being the very moath of great Spirits.

He ordinarily rose early in the morning, and spent about three hours in Prayer and divine Service: after that duty was performed he went to Councel, which lasted till Dinner-time. After his repast he gave audi∣ence to all those who would speak with him upon their affairs, never failing to behold his Hall daily full of people, whom he speedily dispatched, contenting eve∣ry one with sweet and reasonable answers: from thence he retired to write Letters, and to give such order to his Officers which his pleasure was should be observed in all his affairs: and if he had no other employment he went to Vespers. At his return he took some pains or recreation, then finishing the rest of his Office, he ended the day. On Sundayes and Holy-Dayes he either went on foot in some Pilgrimage of Devotion, or caused the Life of Saints or other Histories to be read, daily more and more to dispose his Life and Conversation unto Virtue. When he Marched into the field, he used most admirable discretion, never oppressing any of his company, nor would he permit even in the enemies Countrey, that the least disturbance should be done to Churchmen.

Behold you not here a Life worthy of a French Cavalier? Oh Nobility! This man was not a Pet∣ty Roister, that makes boast to fight in a green mea∣dow; But a Souldier, who during the Warres with the English kept the Field of Battell three times thir∣ty dayes together, against those brave Souldiers who did oppose him; from whence he went out all spark∣ling with glory and wonder.

I would here willingly adde a Bertrand of Gues∣clin Count of Longuevil, and Constable of France, whose Life Mounsier Menard hath given us writ∣ten by a Pen of that antient Age, in as antient Lan∣guage. You should see a man, who after he had de∣dicated his Soul, Body, and Arms in the Offertory of a Masse at the Altar, fought six or seven times hand to hand in the Field, exercised strange Feats of Battell and Arms; stood in the midst of Combats unmoved, and confident as in his Chamber, being otherwise fu∣rious, strong and stout in the presse. You should see a man sage in Counsels, prompt in Execution, whom an Enemy found near at hand when he thought him thirty miles off. A man in all things else free from Fraud or Dissimulation, Chearfull, Courteous, ob∣liging and liberall of his own, employing his Movables and his Wives Jewels for the relief of poor Souldiers.

Then you may judge, whether by being Valiant you may live in the Court of a Christian Prince like a little Turk. Where is your Judgement? and where is your Reason?

BAYARD.

BEhold a man whose life not long since hath been published to serve as a modell for the Nobility: we yet touch him as it were with our finger, for he dyed under the reign of Fran∣cis the First, having served three Kings in their Armies, the space of two and thirty years. It is the valiant Terrail, otherwise called Cava∣lier Bayard born in Daulphine. I willingly make use of his Example, both because one of our most warlike Kings, the sonne of Francis the First would needs be knighted by his hands, to witnesse the honour he bare to his valour, as also for that I see therein many noble * 1.2 passages which taste of the virtue of a true French soul∣dier. He was a courageous Captain, of excellent dire∣ction, valiant and magnanimous, of whom it was said, that he had the assault of the wilde Bull, the de∣fence of the Bore, and flight of the wolf. I set aside his warlike deeds, I take some of his virtues which here I will make use of. This royall courage had no other aim in arms, but the glory of God, the service of his Prince, and the honour of his profession, whereof we have an ample testimony in a short Elogy, which his se∣cretary made upon him, saying. That after these two and thirty years service, he dyed almost as poor as he was born. Much is spoken in these few words, and I think Bayard more glorious under this title, then if he had born the Dutchy of Milan on his back. He had the true piety of a good Souldier: for every mor∣ning he prayed to God most devoutly, and would not permit any man to enter into his chamber during his de∣votions: He was so obedient to those who comman∣ced in the Army, that he never refused any commissi∣on imposed upon him. Yea, well foreseeing that the last charge enjoyned him by the Marshall Bonivet was most dangerous, and as it were impossible, yet he went thither, sacrificing his life to the command∣ments of the Lieutenant of his Prince, that he might not digresse from his ordinary custome. There was he slain by the most generous manner of death that could happen to any Captain of his quality. He was a Lyon in Arms, who with a choice company of men selected by him and trained to his profession, wrought such admirable effects, that there was not any bat∣tel wonne, of which he was not ever the principall cause. Never was any man more terrible to an enemy in the conflict, but out of it, it was said he was one of the most affable and courteous men of the earth: he was so ill a flatterer of great men, that to gain a King∣dome he would not be drawn to speak anything but reason. His practise was to honour the virtuous, speak little of the vicious, lesse of his own atchieve∣ments, never to swear; to do favours to all that requi∣red them as willingly as if himself were to receive the benefit, to give secret alms according to his ability, in such manner, that it is written, that besides his other acts of piety, he married at the least an hundred poor young maids. Behold of what elements his soul was inwardly composed. As for the manner of his carriage in the warre, he as little cared for money as the dust of the earth, and desired not to have any but to give; witnesse an act of great liberality, which is related of him. He took fairly by law of Arms a Spanish Trea∣surer, who had about him fifteen thousand Ducats: one of his Captains named Tardieu, enraged with choller, swore that he would have part of the booty, because he was in the Expedition. This good Captain smiling said unto him, It is true, you were of the en∣terprise, but are not to share in the Booty; and if it were so, you are under my charge, I therefore will give you what I think good. This man entred into more vi∣olent fury, and went to complain to the Generall, who having well considered the businesse, adjudged it wholly to Bayard. He caused his Ducats to be carried to a place of safety, and commanded them to be spread on a Ta∣ble, in presence of all his people, saying to them, Com∣panions, what think yee? Do yee not here behold fine junkets? Poor Tardieu, who had been put by his pre∣tensions by expresse sentence of his Captains, looked on this money with a jealous eye, and said, If he had the half of it, he would all his life be an honest man. Doth that depend on this? (saith this brave Spirit) Hold then, I willingly give you that which you by force could never obtein. And so caused he at the same instant seven thousand five hundred Ducats to be told out to him. The other, (who in the beginning thought it was but a meer mockery, when he saw it to be in good earnest, and himself in possession of that he de∣sired) cast himself on both his knees at the feet of Bayard, having abundant tears of joy in his eyes, and cryed out, Alas my Master, my Friend, you have sur∣passed the liberality of Alexander: How shall I be ever able to acknowledge the benefit, which I at this time do receive at your hands? Hold your peace, (said this incomparable man) If I had power, I would do much more. And thereupon causing all the souldiers of the Garrison to be called, he distributed the rest of the Ducats; not keeping one sole denier for his own use.

I ask of you, whether this were not a heart of true pearl, wherein there could not one least blemish of A∣varice be found? Yea, also when he passed through the Countrey, even in a land of Conquest, he paied his ex∣pence. And one saying to him, Sir, this money is lost: for, at your departure from hence, they will set this place on fire. He answered, Sirs, I do what I ought, God hath not put me into the world to live by Rapine.

Moreover, the excellency of this man appeared well in an affair, wherein the life of the most eminent man of the world was interessed. For, heat that time being in Italy, was sent by the King to assist the Duke of Fer∣rara against the Army of Pope Julius then much op∣posit to France, although so many other worthy Popes heartily loved our Nation. When one Monsieur Augu∣stine Gerlo, a Gentleman of Milan, but yet a traitor and factious, went to the said Duke to perswade him to forsake the French Engagement, with intention to de∣stroy them, and promised him that in recompence he would give him his Neece in marriage, and make him Captain Generall of the Church. This Prince would not seem in any wise to understand him; but he handled the matter so by his policy and advantageous promises, that he gained this Augustine who gave him his hand that he in few dayes would destroy the Pope by a mis∣chievous Morsell which he could easily give him. The Duke of Ferrara having thus dived into his plots and intentions, went immediately to find out this our noble Bayard in his lodgings, and made a long discourse to him of the evil disposition of Pope Julius, and the en∣terprises he had both on his life and on the Frenchmen, of purpose to enkindle him for Revenge. Then he al∣so pursued his opportunity, and made discovery to him of the treason of this wicked Gerlo. Bayard look∣ing amazedly at him, said, How, Sir! I could never have imagined that a Prince so generous as you would

consent to such a wickednesse: and had you done it, I swear by my soul, before night I would have given the Pope notice of it. How! answered the Duke, he would have done as much either to you or me. It is no matter (replyeth Bayard) this treachery displeaseth me. Whereat, the Duke shrugging up his shoulders, and spitting on the ground, saith, Monsieur Bayard, I would I had killed all mine enemies in this sort: but, since you dislike it, the matter shall rest, and you and I both may have cause to repent it. We shall not, if it please God, replyeth the good souldier: but, I pray you, put this gallant into my hands that would do this goodly piece of service; and if I do not cause him to be hanged in an hour, let me supply his place. The Duke finding in him this courage and fidelity, did all he could to wave and excuse the plot, saying he had given him assurance of his person.

But, behold you not here a brave spirit in Bayard? See you not a man of a Royall conscience, and of an honesty in all things like to it self? Away then with those petty and base spirits of the abysse more black then spectres and infernall furies, who have neither loyalty for their Prince nor Common-wealth, but as it may concern their own interests; who swallow trea∣sons as big as camels to gain a fly. Such would make truth it self to lie, were not heavens Providence awake to make their events as tragicall, as are their de∣terminations abominable and hideous.

All the bravest Chieftains have ever held it to be highest of their glorious victories, to be crowned with Chastity. It was the Trophey of Cyrus, to whom, for this cause God gave all the treasures of Asia: It was the Triumph of Alexander, who, in recompence thereof, had the conquest of the Persians: And, the Emperour Julian, who made profession herein to imi∣tate him, although he had apostatized and renounced all other sacred tyes, would never forsake Chastity, but wittily said, This Virtue made beautifull lives, as Painters fair faces. But, not to search so farre into the dust and rubbish of Antiquity; I will draw one line more upon our Bayard in this Point, whereon his History dignifies him with a passage admirable and unparallel'd.

Some there were had advised to convey into his chamber a maid which was one of the fairest creatures in the world, and indeed she was endowed with an angelically gracefull aspect, save that at that instant her eyes were swoln (above their ordinary orbs) with an extremity of tears: and that too bespake rather the com∣mendable virtue of her modesty, then the blemish of her beauty: Whom when the Captain had well sur∣veyed; How now fair maid! saith he unto her; What sayest thou? Why comest thou hither? The amazed damosel falling on her knees, with that utterance her sighings would afford her, she thus answers him: Ah! Sir, My mother hath commanded me I should do what you would have me; yet (Sir) I am a Virgin, and never (truly) had I any disposition to do ill, how∣ever a necessity enforced me hither; for, my mother and my self are so poor, that we are nigh perishing through hunger: but, I wish to God I might see death, thereby to be dissolved from the number of unhappy maidens, rather then to fully my soul with the least un∣worthy and ignoble act. Which words of hers pier∣ced so this generous Lords soul to the quick, that they caused tears in his eyes, associated with this reply; Verily, pretty soul, I will not be so wicked as to take that from thee which thou so charily hast kept for the society of purest Angels. Thereupon he caused her to be veiled lest she should be taken notice of; and that she might not be exposed unto the rigid dealings of a rude hand; (not transferring the charge of her person to anothers care) he, with a lighted torch in his own hand, conducts her to her safe repose in the house of a virtuous kinswoman of his, where he for that night leaves her. The day following he sent for her mother, and said unto her, Are not you a wicked woman to be∣tray the honour of your daughter, which ought to be more dear unto you then your life? Certainly for thus doing, you deserve a punishment so much the more rigorous, as that I understand you are a Lady: and by a course so sinister you wrong Nobility. The Lady hereat wholly confounded, knew not what else to answer, but that they were as poor as might be. Is there yet (saith he) no man that for her birth, beauty, and virtues sake who requireth her in holy Marriage? Yes, truly (saith she) an honest man, a neighbour of mine; had she (as he with her demands) six hundred florens, which I am in no capacity to raise or to procure.

Then the brave Bayard drew out his purse, and said, Here are two hundred crowns (which are of more va∣lue then six hundred florens of this countrey) to marry your daughter withall: which my will is you dispatch within three dayes: and farther, to enable you the bet∣ter thereto; I also adde one hundred crowns more to adorn her with decent change of apparel, and I give your self an hundred Crowns, which well housewived, may serve to stave you off from future unbecoming shifts and poverty. All which was done accordingly, to the unspeakable joy both of the mother, and of the daughter, who thenceforth lived in an honourable and comfortable condition.

O Nobility! I present not here an Hermit, but a Captain (who was a French Souldier) who was moul∣ded of no other flesh, bloud, nor bones, then are ye your selves: yet he performeth an act of a Religious man the most mortified: he exerciseth the liberality of a King; he equalleth therein, yea surmounted the he∣roicall deeds of the greatest Saints. True it is, Saint Nicholas saved the honour of Virgins, contributing thereto his gold and silver: as true it is that in so do∣ing he generously triumphed over the covetousnesse of temporall goods; yet, he served not in this action as a Triumph to himself, which is verily the choicest piece of eminent virtues. But, behold a Cavalier who van∣quisheth both Avarice and Lust, (the two most dan∣gerous rocks of the world.) Bayard commandeth his purse in a fortune not the best accommodated; and that meriteth no small applause: But Bayard, in the high flourish of his age, of a body vigorous, commands the passions of his soul and conquers them, even at the temptations of an object so amiable (as hath been represented here unto you) I beseech you therefore, let it be no longer said that Chastity is onely to be found amongst the truly most mortified retirers into Cloisters; for, it is every where, where the fear of the omnipresent God, and where generosity or reall virtue is. What then can so many wretches answer to this, who fill the world with sins, the Nobility with dis∣graces, their bodies with diseases, their name with in∣famy, and load so many poor abused creatures with miseries and despair? What can our spruce gallants devise for passable excuse, who brave it through the streets in their ridiculous ostents of borrowed feathers and in habits; remaining indebted to the mercer for the stuffe, and to the poor taylour for the fashion; paying yet neither the one or other? True jack-daws of Aesop, who deserve that all other birds should assemble to pull their plumes off which they have (thus no better then) stoln to catch and to be caught with vanity. What will here so many gluttons and gamesters say, who rent up and eat the entrails of men by their blou∣dy riots?

You see 'twas possible that this gallant souldier, by unravenous hands had four hundred crowns, (a sum in those dayes held a huge one) yet all this he gives in one onely alms; but, those (whom I thus have taken to task) who in a bravery talk of nothing lesse then pistolets, not mind any thing else but their sordid vo∣luptuousnesse, have not a denier to throw to a poor body.

Pursuing this course, He did an act (at the taking of Bressia a city in Italy) indeed for ever memorable, which was thus; That being set in the front of the Perdues, he first entred and passed the Rampart, whence he received a hurt in the top of his thigh, so dangerous that the top of a pike wherewith he was thrust stuck in the wound: he, nothing terrified hereat, said to one Captain Molard, I am slain; but it is no matter, let your men march on confidently, the town's our own. Then, two of his souldiers bare him out of the throng, who seeing his wound streamed forth much bloud, they pulled off their shirts and rent them, bind∣ing up his thigh therewith; and, in the next house they hit upon, they took a little door off the hinges where∣on they laid their tenderly beloved Captain, to bear him the more easily. From thence they went directly to a great house which they supposed (in all likelihood) to be a very convenient repose, and for his accommo∣dation (and so indeed it proved:) For, it belonged to an honest Gentleman who thence retired into a Mona∣stery to avoid the fury which is ordinarily found from conquering souldiers: for, the saccage of this City was so dreadfull, that there were reckoned as well of Ve∣netians who defended it, as Burgesses, to the number of twenty thousand slain: yet, his wife (the Lady of this house) with her two daughters, fortunately had ventured to abide at home, who yet through fear had hid themselves together under hay in a barn, from whence the noble Matron made first her appearance to the two souldiers knocking at the gate, which (arming her self with resolution) she opened to them, when espying a Captain all bloudy, for whom they demand∣ed a room in her house to retire in; she conducts them with their carriage on that homely bier (as is before related) into the fairest and best furnisht chamber, where she cast her self at his feet, saying, Sir, I freely make a tender of this house unto you with all the fur∣niture thereof, which you may call yours even by the law of Arms: However, this favour I onely beg of you, you will be pleased to protect me and save mine honour inviolated, as also of my daughters (two poor maids) grown up to marriage estate, whom I and my dear husband value as the pledges of our conjugall affection. The Captain answered, Madam, fear not, We souldiers that must stand the shock of warre oft∣times do meet with such like casualties as hath now betided me, which was the cause (not any design to wrong your persons or diminish your possessions) that drave me hither: and whether I shall escape this wound be a contigency remote as yet from my assu∣rance; yet, this I faithfully promise you, that, whilst I live, there shall not be done the least injury to you nor your daughters, no more then I would have befall to mine own person. Onely keep them in your lodg∣ing, and let them not be seen: send for your husband home again, whom you may assure and your self too ye have a ghest who will do you all courtesie possible. The Lady comfortably acquiescing in the belief of his noblenesse uttered by his word, she goes about the or∣derly contrivance of her houswife-affairs accordingly, and having employed all her prudentiallest care to give him good entertainment, she soon perceived she had lodged an honest man, (amongst other his own perso∣nall civill manifestations) by the harmlesse and just deportment of the Duke of Nemours the brave Gene∣rall of the Army (Gaston de Foix) who came daily (with his choicest Chevaliers) to visit him; yet he, and all they (although it was then in a city of their con∣quest) made offer of paying for what ever provisions they demanded for their repasts. The good hostesse therefore took her self so much the more concerned to wait on her noble inmate (as indeed she did) as on an Angel sent her from heaven: so much divine ho∣nour and virtue saw she resplendent in him. When he was well cured of his hurt, and spake of dislodging thence to be present at the battle of Ravenna, where that his Generall passionately desired him no lesse for his society then his service; the Lady (who accounted her self as his prisoner, with her husband and their two daughters, considering that if their ghest would rigorously use them he might (according to the use and liberty of a souldier) draw ten or twelve thousand crowns from her,) resolved to give him a present: and therefore went into his chamber with one of her do∣mestick attendants who carried a little steel cabinet, and presently she threw her self at his feet, but he quickly raised her up again, not suffering she should speak a word till she was seated by him, at which time she made this speech well observed by the Secretary of Bayard.

Sir, sith it seemed good to the high Providence that this city should be destined to a captivity by your valour; the favour which God hath afforded me by sending you into this house which is wholly at your service, I thankfully contemplate as one which hath been no lesse then the preservation of the life of my husband, mine own, and that of my two daughters, with their unattempted chastity which they dearlier estimate then their precious life. Besides, your people have demeaned themselves (to your own rare example, as well as to your lawfull commands, I attribute it) here in my house, that I have cause for ever to com∣mend their sober carriage and modesty, and not deser∣ving the least blame or complaint for any kind of inju∣ry committed by them. And, yet Sir, I am not so igno∣rant of the condition whereunto the misery of warre hath reduced us, as not very well to apprehend that my husband, my self, and our children are your pri∣soners, and that all the goods in this house are in your power to be disposed of at your liking and dis∣cretion: But withall, knowing the noblenesse of your heart which is incomparable; I am come most humbly to beseech you to take pity on us your poor captives, and to deal with us according to your manifested good∣nesse and clemency, whereto we render as a thankfull sacrifice this poor present earnestly desiring it may be acceptable. Having thus spoken, she took the cabinet out of her servants hands, and opened it before the good Captain, who saw it to be full of ducats, whereat he smiled, saying, Madam, how many ducats have you there? The poor woman, dismayed because she thought his smiling had proceeded from conceived dis∣content, answered, Here are but two thousand five hundred ducats; but if you be not satisfied here∣with, we will procure you more. Nay, Madam (re∣plyed the Captain) I do well assure you, that should you give me an hundred thousand crowns, you could not (for all that) do me so much good as you have be∣nefitted me already by your courteous entertainment and virtuous offices of recovering me. In what place therefore soever I shall remain, while God prolongs my life, you shall find you have thereby engaged a Gentleman ready to embrace occasions of serving your commands. And now, as for your ducats, I will take none of them, but give you thanks, and so I pray you put them up again. For my part, I have ever esteemed

people of honour more then crowns; and think not, Madam, but I go away as well contented from you as if this city were at your disposition, and you had made me a present thereof.

She again humbly prostrating her self on her knees, and the Captain lifting her up, she answered, No Sir? I should think my self, for ever the most unhappy wo∣man of the world, if you accept not of this present, which is nothing in comparison of the infinite obliga∣tions I owe to your worth. Well (saith he) sith you give it with so good a will, I accept it for your sake: but, cause your daughters to come hither that I may bid them farewell. These virtuous souls following their mothers presidency, had also with her charitably assisted him during the time of his infirmities cure, ma∣ny times touching their Lute whereon they played very sweetly, for his minds recreation. Upon this summon of his into his presence; they fell at his feet, the elder of the daughters (in the name of both) made a short speech unto him in her mother language, im∣porting a thankfull form unto him for his just perform∣ed preservation of their honour. The Captain heard it, yet not without a weeping-joy and admiration at the sweetnesse and humility he therein observed, and then said: Ladies, ye do that which I ought to do; which is, to give you thanks for the many good helps ye have afforded me, for which I find my self infinitely obliged unto you. Ye know, men of my profession are not readily furnished with handsome tokens to present fair maidens withall. But behold! your good Lady-mother hath given me two thousand five hundred ducats: take each of you a thousand of them as my gift, for so I am resolved it shall be. Then turning to his Hostesse, Madam (saith he) I will take the five hundred to my self to distribute them among poor Religious women who have not had like happi∣nesse with you to be preserved from the souldiers plun∣dering pillage: And as you better then any other may judge of the necessities which each one may by such accidents have befaln them: so I am confident I can depute none a more faithfull steward for the disposing thereof then is your wise, ingenious, and charitable self, unto whose sole disposall I freely recommend it. The Lady touched to the quick with so rare and pious a disposition, spake these words unto him; O flower of Chevalry to whom none other can be compared! Our blessed Saviour and Redeemer Jesus Christ, who for us sinners suffered death and passion, both here in this world, and in the other, reward you. The Gentleman of the house, who at that time heard the courtesie of his ghest, came to thank him with a bended knee, making him (withall) a surrender of his person, and a sequestration of his whole estate; but he most nobly left him master of himself and of his estate. The young gentlewomen who (amongst other their many accomplishing endowments) were skilfull at the needle, made him a present of a crimson-sattin purse very rich∣ly wrought, and of two bracelets woven with thread of gold and silver. He very graciously receiving them; Behold (saith he) I esteem these more then ten thou∣sand crowns: and instantly he put the bracelets on his wrists, and the purse into his pocket; assuring them that while these their respective remembrances would last, he would wear them for their sakes. Which civil ceremonies ended he mounted on his horse, accompani∣ed thence with his true friend the Lord D'Aubigny, and with about two or three thousand other gentlemen and souldiers; the Lady of the house, the daughters, and the whole family as passionately lamenting his depar∣ture, as if they should have been put to the sword, al∣though they had assurance from him by his undeniable Protection under which he left them and their possessi∣ons to be unmolested after his departure.

If the starres were to descend from heaven, I would demand now whether they might find more love and respect then this heaven-born piece of generosity did both receive and return. But, be ye your own judges if your observations tell you not, it farre otherwise be∣falls those silly fencers who in like times of advantages rush themselves into such well feathered nests no other∣wise then as fatall Comets portending fire and the de∣stroying sword, who make the props of buildings trem∣ble with their loud blasphemies, who load whole fa∣milies with injuries, without the least regard of age, sex, or honour, but make a sport at the bloud and wounds over whom they tyrannize, pillaging them like ravenous harpies fatted with humane ruines. How∣ever, should they do nothing else all their life time but heap up mountains of gold and silver; they could not arrive to the least part of the contentment which this good Captain enjoyed, who sought no other recom∣pence from his fair way'd actions, but the satisfaction of his serene conscience, and the glory to have done so well. And thus it is (O ye who would your selves to be indeed enobled) that hearts are gained: thus ye oblige (if I may so say) both earth and heaven to become due tributaries to your virtues, with blessings round about you here, and with a crown of immortality hereafter.

Notes

• * 1.1

  A sad spe∣ctacle.
• * 1.2

  Martiall virtues of a brave French Souldier.