The royal mistresses of France, or, The secret history of the amours of all the French kings from Pharamond the first monarch, anno 418 to this present time / made English from the French original.

THE AMOURS OF THE Kings of FRANCE, &c.

The Amours of Pharamond, First King of France.

THEY who apply themselves to the reading or History, to the end they may reap Benefit by it, ought to un∣derstand the true Causes of the most remarkable Events: and this is that which cannot be known, without being perfectly acquainted with the In∣treagues of the Courts, wherein they were acted. For many times, what is attributed to Policy, has no other foundation then an erroneons In∣dulgence of Princes to their Mistresses, or their Favourites: And at the same time that they were believ'd ••o have in their Thoughts nothing

more then the welfare of their Dominions, twas only a burning Desire to revenge the quar∣rels wherein the Amours had engag'd 'em. This is that which will be found in the sequel of this History, wherein I have endeavour'd, as much as lay within my Power, to clear and give light to matters of ••act that seem'd obscure, in regard the contemporary Historians, were either igno∣rant, or willing to conceal the weaknesses of those Princes, under whose Reigns they, liv'd. I have very little to say of our first Kings, not on∣ly because the Authors disagree among them∣selves, touching the most memorable Events, but also because the Princes themselves, being oblig'd to be continually on Horseback, for the preservation and establishment of their Domini∣ons, never minded Love, but only as a trifling business to pass away time, and were ignorant of the Delicacies of that passion, which is the refinement of all Pleasure.

All Historians agree, that we ought begin with.* 1.1Pharamond, when we go about to recount the extend∣ed series of Kings, that have rul'd the ••••ou∣rishing Kingdom of France; which is justify'd by a Medal that represents the Ceremony of his Coronation. We shall say nothing of the At∣chievements of that Prince, which relate to the story of his Reign, because they nothing concern our subject. And for his Amours, we are igno∣rant of 'em, as also of the very name of his Wife; and tho' It be very probable that such a Prince as he, could not chuse but be engag'd in

amorous Adventures, worthy to have been trans∣ferr'd to Posterity; yet in regard Historians make no mention of 'em, neither can we deli∣ver any thing of certainty concerning 'em. No body doubts, but what is said by the Author of the Romance, which hears the Title of Phara∣mond, was very ingeniously invented: and thither it is that we refer all those who are Lovers of Fictions. 'Tis concluded on all hands, that Pharamond was He, who first introduc'd into France the Sallck Law, which excludes Women from the Succession to the Crown. At length, after he had establish'd his Empire by several Conquests, and Reign'd about 14 years, he dy'd, and left his Son Clodion to succeed him.

The Amours of Clodion.

CLODION, the Son of Pharamond, was call'd by the French to succeed his Father. He was surnamed the Hairy, because he wore his Locks very long; which was at that time a mark of free Dominion. But we are no more inform'd of his amorous Intreagues, then of those of Pharamond. Historians only report, that the Queen, his Wife, walking one day upon the Sea sto••e, was surpriz'd by a Monster, that flung himself of a suddain out of the Salt water, and that she had a Son by him, who was call'd Meroveu••, and was his Successor. 'Tis thought this Fable was invented by Meroveus, to conceal

the loose Amours of his Mother, and to imprint Respect and Awe into the Minds of his Sub∣jects, by attributing to himself a birth so ex∣traordina••y.

The Amours of Childerick.

* 1.2CHILDERICK, at his first coming to the Crown by no means follow'd the example of his Father M coveus's Virtues. For, he debauch'd the Wives and Daughters of his Subjects, so noto∣riously and openly, that he drew the Hatred of the whole Kingdom upon him, and constrain'd 'em to depose him. Upon which, he retir'd into Turingia, where King Basin at that time reign'd, Now, in regard he was of a very amorous Complexion, and for that his misfor∣tune had not cool'd the heat of his, lustful De∣sires, he soon became enamour'd of the King of Turingia's Wife, who was a most lovely Prin∣cesse. As for himself, he was handsome in his Person▪ and very pleasing in his Conversation; so that it was not long before he reap'd the fruit of his Sighs. The Queen Basina corre∣sponded with his. Affection in a most tender manner; insomuch that his banishment became a pleasure to him. But at length his Subjects ha∣ving recall'd him home to the re-possession of his Throne, his Love was forc'd to give way to his Ambition, and he was constrain'd to quit his

Fair Queen. Who not being able to raze from her Heart the remembrance of Childerick, fol∣low'd him into France, where he was re-sett••d in his Kingdom, neither regarding her Honour, nor her Husband. Childerick, admiring to see her, ask'd her what reason had induc'd her to leave her Husband Basin, to follow him? Thy Modesty answer'd she, Thy Valour, and thy noble Car∣riage, have in a manner constrain'd me to come and seek thee for my Husband. I am only in love with thy Virrtue; and if I knew where to fi••d a person of greater Vitue than t••y self. I would not spare fo•• any paints to enjoy him. Childerick, charm'd with her Language, and enclin'd as well by his own passion, forgot the Duties of Friendship, and the Protection which King Basia had so gene∣rously afforded him in his Misfortunes. The pleasures which he hop'd for, in the possession of Queen Basina, would not permit him to hesitate one moment, nor to ponder: upon the injury, the greatest he could do the Prince his Bene∣factor. 'Tis said, that having desir'd Childerick not to lye with her the first Night of their Nup∣tials, she went three several times to desire him not to be afraid, but to observe the Apparitions that should present themselves before his Eyes; and that, by virtue of her occult Magick, she shew'd him the first time. Unicorns, Lions, and Leopards; The second time Bears and Wolves; and the third time Dogs and Cats: to signifie the various manners and conditions of the Prin∣ces that should descend from that Marriage. But i•• we observe the ardent Affection which

that Queen had for Childerick, 'tis enough to convince us, that this same Story was no more then a Fable invented at random. For tis not pro∣bable that her vehement desires would permit her to employ her time so ill, as to lye alone, while her Lover was taken up with gazing and musing upon pretended Apparitions.

The Amours of Clovis, the First Christian King.

* 1.3CLOVIS who succeeded Chil∣derick his Father, desirous to de∣volve and establish his Authority upon his Legi∣timate Offspring, (for he had had already by one of his Mistresses a natural Son, whose name was Thierry,) cast his Eyes upon Cletilda, the Daughter of another Childeri••, and Neice to Gondebaut, King of Burgundy, who was a very beautifull Princess, and by the Marriage of whom he might reap so much the greater Advantage, because it afforded him an opportunity to ag∣grandize his Dominions on Burgundy side. For Gondebaut, after he had defeated his Brother, and cut the Throat of their Wives, and male Issue, let the Daughter live, and retain'd Clo∣tilda at Court, where she was so strictly lookt af∣ter, that they watcht even her very smiles, and all the meanest her Actions, not, permitting any Man to come near her. But Clovis's Love and Ambition found out a way to deceive her Guards.

Aurelian, a Confident of Clovis, his Master, took his time to go into Burgundy, when Gon∣debaut was in Italy with Thierry, and found a way to speak to the Princess, by disguising himself in the habit of a ••eggar: for in that disguise he waited for her at the Church-door and begg'd an Alms of her; which when she stretch'd forth her hand to give him, he squeez'd and kiss'd it after so passionate a manner, that she presently conjectur'd there m••st be some secret Mystery in the Beggers carriage. Having therefore found out a way to discourse him, she listen'd to his Propositions, and receiv'd the Nuptial Ring that Clovis sent her, with this condition, that he should turn Christian. The Prince being thus assur'd of the Affection of his Mistriss, sent a magnificent Embassy to Gondebaut, on purpose to congratulate his good success and demand his Niece in Wedlock; who ••••ous'd himself, under pretence of his Religion. But Aurelian, who was Clovis's Ambassador, promis'd to re∣move that obstacle out of the way▪ so that Gen∣debaut having no other exception to make, and not knowing which way decently to avoid it was forc'd to comply with his demand.

Deuterie, Theodebert, the King of Austratia's Mistress.

CLovis's Children having divided the King∣dom of F••••••ce bet weul••om, Austrasia sell to Theoderie est ••••••el Prince; this Dominions were of a large 〈…〉〈…〉 b•• o••p•• che••do not only Lorrain, but the ••o••i Countries and part of Ger∣many, which was the ancient ••••tismony of: our Kings and ••eath was far as Bauaria Theod. had but one only Son, whose name was Theadeb••rt, a Prince both stood and ambitious, and medicated nothing but great designed. His Father b••t bought himself of Marrying him betimes, and to match him vnto such an alliance; as might be able to assist him in the preservation of the Dominions which he should heare him alter his Death. To that purpose he ••••st his Eyes upon Wisgard, the Daughter of Woc••in, King of the Lombards Wa••••o•• as a Parent Prince of his possess'd a good part of Italy, and who was able to assist him to wage W•••• with the other ••••nus of Clovit, if any of 'em, not contented with his share should attempt to fall upon Austria. Theoderic having taken his Resolution, sent Ambassadors to Wachon, to demand his Daughter, and having obtain'd his desire, he affianc'd her to his Son; but the Marriage was not consummated, whither it were that Theodebert had any reluctancy to the Match, or that Theoderic growing jealous of his Son's

Ambition, would not entrust him with an oppur∣tunity to make himself 〈…〉〈…〉 by that Al∣liance. All the People of Austras•••••• were charm'd with Theod••bert's Vertues, and they spoke so highly in his praise that the King was somwhat disturb'd at it, and resolv'd to remove him from the Court. To which purpose, an opportunity offer'd it self, which he was unwilling to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 es∣cape him. The S••••viant, who possessed Spain, finding themselves over powr'd by the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 who made it their business to 〈…〉〈…〉 of the Kingdom, sollicited the King of ••••••trasia to fall upon Narb••n••ois•• Gaul, to the end, the Enemy might be compell'd to ••epass the 〈◊〉〈◊〉, in order to defend that Province, which at that time belong'd 〈◊◊〉〈◊◊〉 Theodori•• discover'd to his Son the Preposals that had ••een made to him, and ask'd him whither he would command the Army, which 〈…〉〈…〉 to send into 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the Young Be••••••e was 〈…〉〈…〉, that his O∣ther offer'd 〈…〉〈…〉 opportunity to exercise his Valour▪ and declar'd that 〈…〉〈…〉 ready too set forward as 〈…〉〈…〉 few Days after 〈…〉〈…〉 with a powerful Army, and 〈…〉〈…〉 Burgundy and the 〈…〉〈…〉 to his entering into 〈…〉〈…〉 in all the Towns that he did 〈…〉〈…〉 Ar∣my, and after 〈…〉〈…〉 strong 〈…〉〈…〉 Nimes and Montpelier, to come and 〈…〉〈…〉 his Camp upon the Banks of the ••i••er Or•• near ••o 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

Deuterie, Wise to the Governor of that City, laythen at his Castle of Cup••••••ic, which some call Cabrieret, but others more justly Capost••••. in regard that Village stands more near to Be∣ziers, whereas Cabrieres adjoyns to Nimes. She would fain have goe away to her. Husband with her Daughter about ten Years of Age, but She had not time, for they were both taken by the aven•• Couriers of Theodebert's Army, and pre∣sented to the Prince. He was charm'd with their Beauty and after he had made a thousand excuses for the ill usage they had met with, he surrender'd up to them his own Tent, and be∣sought 'em to make use of it. In the Evening, he went and paid a visit to Douterie, and told her, she was at her own Liberty, and that she should have a Convey to guard her to Nimes when she pleas'd. But Deu••erie, who was not in∣sensible of the goodly presence and Virtues of Theodebert, was not over desir•••••• to part with him so soon; and therefore she made him an∣swer, that she would not wrong his Civility, since it was not just be sho•••••• deprive himself of a Pledge that might he worth him the Conquest of Ri••iers This Language was accompany'd with so passionate a look, that Theodebert might easily perceive that an Incitement more per∣swasive then Generositie, made him refuse a happiness that was to be esteem'd and prefer'd above all other cares of War, and therefore pre∣par'd to attack ••etiers. Which Deuterie having notice of, gave him to understand, that she could not without a more then ordinary Grief behold him,

shed the Blood of a People, among whom she was Born; and that during the Siege, she should be in continual fear for the Person of her Hus∣band, who upon all occasions, would verture himself as far as the meanest Soldier; which Reasons seem'd so plausible, that Theodebert sub∣mitted. Tho' Deutetie all the while was sway'd by a far different mo••••••, as being 〈◊〉〈◊〉 afraid of her Husband's Death then of the effects of his anger. Had be discover'd h•••• ••eve, he might have been precipi••••ted to some 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Viol••••ce, which made Deute••ie desire, that Theodebert would remove to some farther distance, that might deprive him of the knowledge of their in∣treague, and she understood to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to made the best of the indulgence of her Pathronate Lover, that she oblig'd him not only to remo•••• from ••••∣ziers, but to quit Laug••••do••, and take up his Quarters in Province. They stopt at Arles, where their chiefest Divertisement were ••alls ••••••∣ing, and Tournaments Lo••e having lull'd the Valour of the young Prince ••••eep. However Witigez, King the G••b•• not being a little a∣laturn'd at the Conquest which he had made, sort an Ambassador to him with an offer of all Pro∣vence, provided he would joyn his Arme with the Goths against Belas••rint; whom the Empe∣ror Justinian had sent to drive ••em out of Spain, To which Theodebert made answer that his Father being alive, he could not determin any thing positively, in reply to that Proposal, but that he would dispatch a Messenger to him, to know his pleasure. Soon after, the Courier,

instead of bringing back to Theodebert the answer which he expected, brought him news, that the King his Father was Dead, and that there was just Reason to fear, that his Uncles would make themselves Masters of his Dominions, if he did not speedily return to oppose their Designs. There, upon, Theodebert, immediately set forward from Arles, taking along with him not only Deuterie, then big with Child of Prince Theobald, who suc∣ceeded him, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the Lady's Daughter, whom she had by the Governor of R••••er. Neverthe∣less, before his departure, he assur'd Witige••'s, Embassador 〈…〉〈…〉 soon as he had secur'd the Possession of the Kingdom, he would do what his Master should desire.

But no soone•• was 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Crown'd King of Austra∣sia, but the people press'd him to Marty Wisg••••d, laying before him, that since he had a design to w••ge War with Justinian, it was him interest, to procure the friendship of the Lombard King, since it was to his power to set open or stop up the Poss••••, through which the Emperors Army was 〈◊〉〈◊〉 march. These Reasons seem'd to be of great weight, and would have prevail'd upon The••••••∣bert, had he been less in Love. But he was so in∣toxicated with his Passion, for Deuterie, that his Love clos'd up his Eyes against all other Consi∣derations, and to free himself from the importuni∣ties of those that prest him to solemnize the Nuptials, so much desir'd with Wisgard, he pub∣lickly espous'd Deuterie, with great care con∣cealing the Truth of her Husband's being alive.

And now his Passion no longer meeting any obstacle to combat, began to languish, and he yielded to the pressing importunities of Witig••••, who earnestly sollicited him to pass the Alps, and make War upon the Romans. To that end, he set forward from Me••••, tho' Deuterie made use of all her Artifices to stop him, and marching into Italy with Ten Thousand Men, he joyn'd Forces with Dor-ju, who commanded the Army of the Goths, and thus united they took Milan. Ma∣ny other were the events of this War, which I pass over in silence, as being nothing to our pur∣pose. But at length the Pestilence having ruin'd the greatest part of Theodeberts Army, he re∣pass'd the Alps, and return'd to M••••••.

During his absence, Deuterie's Daughter, Gos∣minda's Features were arriv'd to that perfection, and the colour of her Complexion▪ was become so fresh and lively, that he became d••zl'd with the sight of her, not could he conceal, his admi∣ration from Deuteries piercing Eye••, who per∣ceiv'd that their glances met and that her Daughter vaunted in private the Conquest she had won. She carefully observ'd the two Lovers, and being convinc'd, that Gossmi••'d corresponded with the passion of her Faithless Husband, she resolv'd to be reveng'd•• but in such a manner, that she might not be accus'd of having contri∣buted to the Deat of the Young Princess.

The Court was gone to spend some few Days at Verdune, and the ••••••nd Walk was usually up∣on the Banks of the Me••••••, which is very deep in that part Kings, knew not then the use of

Coaches, nor Magnificent Calashes, but only little Chariots, slightly cover'd over, wherein no more then one Person could sit, and drawn by Oxen. The jealous Deuterie therefore procur'd one of these Chariots to be prepar'd for Goss∣wind, and order'd it so, that a pair of Wild Oxen, such as had never felt the Burden of the Yoak, and kept on purpose without Water for se∣veral Days were put to draw it; so that the Young Princess had no sooner taken her seat in the Cha∣riot, but the furious Beasts carry'd her a full Gallop toward the River, and eager to quench their thirst, flung themselves into the bottomless and rapid Stream with the Chariot at their Heels, where they were presently drown'd, and the Princess swallow'd up in the merciless Gulph.

Theodebert was ignorant for some time, that the Death of Gosswind had happen'd so unfortu∣nately, by the Connivance of her Mother; but when he came to understand it, he look't upon the foulness of the crime with so much detestation, that he could no longer endure the Person who had committed it. Thereupon his chief Mini∣sters, seeing him so well inclin'd, took their ad∣vantage of it, and lay'd before him so feeling∣ly the wrong which he had done his Honour in preferring a Lascivious Woman before Wisgard, whose Patience and other Virtues were admir'd by all the World, that he submitted to their Councils. In short, he thrust Deuterie into a Nunnery, and espous'd Wisgard, who enjoy'd her new Dignity but a very little while, for that she died within six Weeks after. Theodebert was

extreamly afflicted for the loss of her, yet not being able to reconcile himself to Deuterie, but leaving her in her retirement without so much as thinking any more of her, he spent all his time in Hunting, which was the occasion of his Death, for he was mortally wounded by a wild Bull that had broke from the Toils, wherein he had been entangl'd, as if he had design'd to revenge the Death of Gosswind, whose Ruin he had been the cause of, by his incestuous Love.

Clotaire's Incestuous Amour.

* 1.4 CLOTAIRE reunited the Kingdom of France, which had been divided, after the Death of Clo••is. He had Marry'd Isgend, of whose Family or place of Nativity, the Historians speak not a word, How∣ever, she had a Sister that far exceeded her in Beauty, for whom she besought the King to pro∣vide a Husband, and to that purpose, sent for her to the Court; but Clotaire found her so ami∣rable, that he could not endure to part with her. He took so great a delight in her Conver∣sation, that at length he perceiv'd in himself an affection for her much more tender then it be∣came him to have for the Sister of his Wife. For some time therefore he contended with his In∣cestuous, passion, and strove to vanquish it: But finding at length, that the more he withstood it, the more is encreas'd he resolv'd to speak to

her. Heregoud trembled at the King's first im∣parting his mind to her, and for some time, avoided coming into his presence, but afterwards she grew less scrupulous, and accustom'd her self to listen to his Allurements, and in matters of Love, when a Virgin begins once to hearken, she is not far from droping into the share; so that when she once forceas'd to be deterr'd with the horor of the Crime, that accompany'd the King's Love, she soon surrendred her Fortress, and became the Mother of Chilperick, who Reign'd after his Father in Normandy, and Paris. But when Clo∣taire had satiated his Lust, that same disgust, that usually follows Enjoyment, open'd his eyes, and made him sensible of the wrong he had done In∣goud, by violating the conjugal Vow, that he had made her, in devoting himself to her Sister. Thereupon he submitted to the Remonstrances and Reprimands of Pope John III. who con∣strain'd Heregoud to betake her self to a Nun∣nery. Some time after, the King having buri'd the Queen his Wife, espous'd Chinsiu or Chim∣sen for the Historians are not agreed about her Name.

The Amours of Cherebert, King of Paris.

AFTER the Death of Clotaire, the King∣dom of France was divided, and Paris fell to Chereberts share, who was the eldest. He had

marry'd Ingeberge, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Princess extraordinary Virtue, and who Lov'd him tenderly; she saw to her grief, how the King spent all his time in Hunting, and never came near her till late in the Night, of which she made most grievous complaints to Meroflede and Marco••efe, her Maids of Honour, in which the most consided. They were Sisters, and tho' they were of no higher extraction then the Daughters of a C••mber of Wooll, yet the Queen disdain'd not their atten∣dance about her Person, because they were en∣dow'd with particular Talents. Marcouefe had spent her Youthful Years in a Convent, and had also enter'd into Vows, but in regard she pre∣tended a constraint upon her, she had ••••••••••••ded her self under the Queen's protection. She 〈◊〉〈◊〉 learnt all sorts of Needle-work in the Cloister, and she had a lively Wit, polish'd with much Learning. She was serious, yet she had so many charms in her conversation, that it was a diffi∣cult matter to be tyr'd with her Company. On the other side, Meroflede was of a lively frolick disposition, danc'd with a goodly grace, sung most charmingly, and plaid upon several Instru∣ments. Now these two Young Lady's propos'd to the Queen, as the neatest course she could take, to divertise the King with courtly ••easts and Banquets, thereby to retain him longer in his Pa∣lace. They also study'd a sort of Pastoral, wherein Meroflede prov'd so successful, that the ••ing gave her a thousand praises; he took so much delight in her conversation, and found the Air of it, so quaint and delicate, that he could

by no means forsake her company: Insomuch, that he very seldom went a Hunting, unless it were upon a set match. Meroflede, who was Am∣bitiois, forgot the Duty which she ow'd her Mi∣stress and ply'd all her Artifices with so much dili∣gence, to keep possession of the King's Heart, that a length, be obtain'd the utmost of his de∣sires. But being a wanton, as she was, she could not be content with one single, tho' so noble a Conquest: She would be continually ensnaring with her purloining glances, all that were so daring as to seek their Thraldom in her looks, Marconefe, who was no less Beautiful, nor no less witty then her Sister, tho' more reserv'd Stomack'd a preferment, that seem'd so injuri∣ous to her. However for some time she stifled her Vexation in her Breast, not breaking her mind to any person whatever: But when she saw the Meroflede let her self loose to others, be∣sides the King, she discover'd her Infidelity to him, after so discreet and so ingenious a manner, as if her intention had been only for her sisters sake to reform the Errors of her ill conduct. On the otherside, Cherebert lodg'd in Marconefe's Breast, all his vexations and sorrows for Merofledes wanton, and no less wandring hu∣mour, and found so much Judgment in her ar∣guments and her councils, that he thought he might be far more happy with her, then with her Sister; and therefore he attempted to gain her affection, wherein the speed of his success was answerable to the eagerness of his pursuit. Mar∣conefe spar'd for nothing, for indeed, her emu∣lation

was so great to deprive her sister of Che∣rebert's Heart, that she prevented his desires, to the end, she might compass her ends. Meroflede on the other side, was soon sensible of this alte∣ration, and did all she could to regain his affe∣ctions. Cherebert gave ear to her reproaches, bore 'em patiently, and endeavour'd to justify himself; and finding charms in both, unwilling to loose either, he made it his business to per∣swade one Sister that he was intirely devoted to her; and the other, that she was the only Mistress of his affection.

All this while he was so enthral'd to his passion for these two Ladies, that he neglected the Go∣vernment of his Dominions, and altogether slighted Ingoberge. And she, unfortunate Queen, acknowledg'd soon the fault, she had commit∣ted, in drawing off the King from the pleasure of Hunting, to make him sensible of amorous delights, and found her self more unhappy then she was when the King forsook her company, only to wage War against the wild Beasts of the Forest. So that after she had in vain attempted to reclaim him by her caresses and her complai∣sance, she had recourse to St. Germain, at that time Bishop of Paris, who had gain'd a high repu∣tation for his piety, and begg'd of him to lay be∣fore the King the wrong he did her, in making her such ill returns of her kindness. But the remonstrances of that Prelate, were so far from moving him, that they rather serv'd to render the Person of Ingoberge more hateful to him. For from that time forward, he look't upon her

only as a jealous Woman, that sought to inter∣rupt his pleasures, and whose revenge was to be dreaded, so that he redoubl'd his scorn of her, and oblig'd her to retire into a Convent. After the Queen's retirement, the jealousie of ambi∣tion intermixing with that of Love, the two Sisters were emulous each to possess, alone, the King's inclinations, and dispose of all his Favours; and their embitterment augmented to that de∣gree, that it enrag'd 'em to a quarrel, which made a great noise and divided all the Court. The King in vain endeavour'd to reconcile and perswade 'em to live peaceably together, at least to keep an outward correspondence of civility, if they could not love each other as sisters. But at length dishearten'd by their transportments, and despairing of doing any good, he sell again to his old sport of Hunting, and left 'em at lei∣sure, to quarrel among themselves.

One day, being separated from his Train, and very Thirsty,* 1.5 he alighted close by a Fountain, for want of a glass he took up the Water with the hollow of his hand, at what time a young Shepherdess perceiving him, drew near him and presented him an earthen Cup. The King took it, and observing in her Face, all the agreements of proportion and colour that Nature could af∣ford, without the help of Art, he ask'd her name, to which she answer'd, that her name was Dandelind, and that she was a Farmers Daughter, who had a House hard by adjoyning. Upon that, Cherbert declared who he was, and told her withal, that he would carry her to

Court, she excus'd her felf with an ingenuity that charm'd him, alledging that Obedience and Du∣ty which she ow'd her Father; and the Grief it would be to her to live absented from him. Goe then, and fetch him hither, reply'd the King, and I will carry, ye along with me both toge∣ther. Immediately away ran the Shepherdess, and soon after return'd with the Peasant, whom she call'd her Father. Presently the good old Man, who understood by his Daughter, that it was the King who sent for him, sell at his Feet, and begg'd to know his pleasure. 'Tis my pleasure, reply'd the King, to make your For∣tune, and your Daughter Happy: come to mor∣row morning to me, when I rise. The Country∣man fail'd not to attend upon him, and he made him Keeper of his Palace. Nor did the King believe he should meet with any reluctancy in the Shepherdess; but she shew'd him ••o much Prudence and Virtue in her Conduct, that he was afraid of offering any violence, and rather thought her worthy of a Crown. And the death of Ingoberge, that happen'd soon after, afford∣ed him an opportunity to fulfil his desire. So that he espous'd Dandelind, and married his two Mistresses to two great Lords of his Court. Cherbert, however, could not continue faithful to his new Queen: for he involv'd himself in so many Courtly intreagues, that the young Queen, who lov'd him intirely, dy'd for grief, within two years after her Marriage. Cherebe••t after that, Marry'd Theogedild, who was so far from being troubl'd at the infidelity of her inconstant

Spouse, that she paid him in his own coin. And her extravagancies were so notorious, that the King, having in vain made use of intreaties, and Menaces to reclaim her, fell into a deadly Me∣lancholy, that put an end to his days in the Ca∣stle of Blaye, whither he retir'd from the World.

The Amours of Guntran, King of Orleans.

GVNTRAN, the Brother of Cherebert,* 1.6 to whom the Kingdom of Orleans fell for his share, being very young when his Father dy'd, disburthen'd himself of the weight of his Government, and laid it up∣on the Shoulders of Rotharic, who had been Prime Minister of State under the Reign of Clotair. This Rotharic had two Daughters, who might well be said to be the Ornaments of the Court. The eldest of the two was named Ve∣neranda, not above fifteen years of age at most: Fame-Rofle the youngest, not above eleven years old, promis'd much, but she was not as yet come to perfection. Their Mother was dead, so that they liv'd both together in Rotharic••s House, under the care of an ancient Governess. The King, who often went to visit his Prime Mini∣ster, was charm'd with Veneranda's Beauty; so that he never saw her, but he gave her to under∣stand,

by a tender and passionate Look, that she had obtain'd the conquest of his Heart. However, Veneranda was a stranger to that lan∣guage, or at least she seign'd to be ignorant of it; which troubl'd the inamour'd Prince so much the more, because he could never have an op∣portunity to speak to her, in regard her Go∣verness would never permit her out of her sight. Desirous therefore he was to corrupt the old Woman, nor did he think it impossible, but he knew not whom to intrust with the secret, for fear it should reach Rotharie's ear; who ha∣ving the disposal of all Favours, had all the Courtiers ••t his command. But while he was in this perplexity, fortune gave him a fair op∣portunity to get rid of it. For Rotharie recom∣mended to him for one of his Pages, a Nephew of the Governesses, who discover'd so great an affection for his Service, that the King thought he might impart his Mind to him, without dan∣ger. Thereupon he adventur'd to speak to him, and found him well inclin'd to second his de∣signs. Accordingly, the Page gave his Aunt an account of the King's desires, and the great ad∣vantages she might justly expect as the Rewards of her faithful Services. Presently the old Wo∣man suffer'd her self to be overcome, and being well acquainted with Veneranda's Humor, which was naturally ambitious, she told her, that 'twould be her fault alone, if she did not come to be Queen, provided, she would but comply with Gontran's Affection: but in regard it be∣came her first, to be assur'd of Gontran's Heart,

before Rotharie were acquainted with the busi∣ness, 'twas requisite she should admit the King to visit her in private. Veneranda firmly believ'd she could never go astray, while she follow'd the Counsels of a Woman, to whose care and con∣duct her Father had intrusted her, and who had never preach'd to her any other Lessons, but those of Virtue: So that by her means, she saw the King more then once; she hearken'd to his Courtship, and enter'd into those strict engage∣ments with him, that she became the Mother of Prince Gondebaut.

In the mean time, Fame-••o••le's Beau∣ty,* 1.7 which augmented as she grew in years, arriv'd to so extraordinary a perfecti∣on, that Gontran fell in love with her, at the same time that he began to be tir'd with Vene∣randa's Favours. But Fame-Rafle, who was not ignorant how her Sister had engag'd her self, by her example had learnt how unsafe it was to relye upon Gontran's protestations; and there∣fore taking better measures, she kept her ground, and disputed the Conquest inch by inch. She oppos'd her Reserv'dness against the Transports of the Prince, and neatly, and ingenuously gave him to understand, that there was nothing to be got, but by fair and lawful means; so that the Prince, whose Passion resistance augmented, gave his consent at length, and marry'd her. Upon that, St. German, who was acquainted with his former engagements, earnestly remon∣strated to him, the heinousness of such a scan∣dalous Wedlock, and told him withal, that the

Church would never approve his incestuous fa∣miliarity; therefore be exhorted him to break it, and divorce himself from Fame-Rafle; and not being able to gain any thing by fair means, he had recourse to Anathema's, and banish'd those two Lovers from the communion of the Faith∣ful.

Veneranda, thô sensibly nettl'd at Gentran's In∣fidelity, had a long time patiently undergone her misfortune; yet not daring to exert her Revenge upon her unconstant Lover, because he was her Sovereign; nor upon her Rivalless, whom she could not ruine, without violating the Law of Nature. Nevertheless, she alter'd her opinion, when she saw her Excommunicated: for then no longer looking upon her as a Sister, but as an Abominable Person, whose life lay at the mercy of any one, that would take it away, she gave her a dose of Poison and sent her out of the World. However, she was never the more happy for so doing; for she could never re∣gain the King's Affection, the heat of whose Passion was quite extinguish'd. Nor was she less perplex'd to see him so prodigal of his amorous Sedulities to Theodegild, who after the death of the King her Husband, was fled for Sanctuary to Gentran's Court. That Princesse made him pro∣posals of Marriage, to which he gave ear im∣mediately, more out Ambition then Love; in hopes, by that means, to joyn the Kingdom of Paris to that of Orleans. Nevertheless, reflect∣ing upon the Troubles which the Marriage of Fame-Rafle had brought upon his Shoulders, he

was unwilling to engage himself in a second In∣cestuous Wedlock, for fear of emboldning his Subjects to revolt, and furnishing his Brothers with a pretence to invade his Dominions. He therefore contented himself, with making the best of his Sister in-law's confidence in trusting him to lay violent hands upon her Treasure; which done, he banish'd her into Provence, and thrust her into a Nunnery. Upon Theodegild's retirement, he espous'd Marcatrude the Daugh∣ter of Duke Magnacaire: and this new Queen had a Maid of Honour, whose name was Austri∣gild, a Lady of surpassing Beauty; with whom Gontran fell in love, and having gain'd her Af∣fections, had two Children by her, who dy'd both before him.

Fredegond, Mistress to Chilperic, King of Neustria and Paris.

CHILPERIC, the Brother of Cherebert and Gontran, to whoss lot fell the Kingdom of Paris and Neustria, had for his first Wife, one Audouaire, whose Original is not known, on∣ly 'tis said that she was the Daughter of one of his Subjects, and that by her he had three Sons, Theodibert, Meroveus, and Clovis, together with a Daughter, whose name was Basina, who took upon her the habit of a Nun, in the Convent of St. Crosse's in Poiters, of which St. Radegond, was then the Abbess. But while Queen Audonaire

liv'd, she had a Maid of Honour of mean ex∣traction, that resided with her, who was born in the Village of Auancourt in Picardy, but whose Beauty, Wit, and other endowments render'd her worthy of high esteem, and her name was Fr••∣degond. She had ingenuity enough to gain at the same time, the affection both of her Master and Mistress, and withal, she knew so well which way to conceal her fain'd commerce Chil∣peric, that no body at the Court perceiv'd it: but the King's passion for her, was near, a whit the less violent, for being secret: and Fredegoud on the other side, who had a piercing Wit, con∣jectur'd shrewdly, that it would be no impossible thing for to see her self seated in the Throne, if she could preserve that ascendant, which she had over the Queen; who being a good honest, downright simple Woman, and consequently ne∣ver mistrusting Fredegond's tricks and artifices, easily fell into the snares, which she laid for her.

About that time it was, that Chilperic left Pa∣ris to make War upon his Brother Sigebert King of Austrasia, leaving Audouaire big with Child, nor was it not long after his departure, that she was brought to Bed of a Daughter, to which by Fredegond's advice, she stood for one of the God∣mothers her self, who perswaded her, that would it be a means to render her more acceptable to her Husband. Chilperick being return'd, she in∣flam'd his Love by affected Refusals, and seeing him one day at her feet, protesting that he lov'd no body but her self, and that nothing in the

world could equal the delicacy of his passion, she answer'd him with a cold indifferency, that if his protestations were sincere, he would not every day as he did, share his caresses between her and a Princess, whom the laws forbad to look upon as a Wife, since she was become so near a kin to him, by being God-mother to the Young Basina. Chilperick was at first surpriz'd at this discourse, but at length suffering himself to be prepossess d by the artifices of Fredegond, he was made believe that he committed Incest, in per∣forming the duty of a Husband to Audouaire; and therefore to avoyd all occasions of com∣mitting so foul a crime, he shut up his Wife in a Nunnery.

Fredegond, having thus remov'd the main ob∣stable, believ'd that nothing else could prevent her being Queen: only one politick reason crossed her designs. For Sigebert had Marry'd Brunebant the Daughter of Athanagild, King of Spain. Now Childerick fearing least that ally∣ance should render him too Potent, sent to de∣mand for himself Galsuind, the sister of that Princess, and to oblige Athanagild the more ea∣sily to give his confent, he offer'd to affiance Basina to the Prince, his Son. But that was more then he could perform, in regard the King could not procure the consent of the States of his Kingdom, that his Daughter should Marry with the Prince of Spain, because he was an Arrian. Which denyal, tho' it was enough to have incens'd Athanagild, nevertheless it infus'd into him no occasion of resentment against Chilperic, as being

well acquainted with his sincerity, and for that he knew 'twas none of Chilperic's fault, that he could not be as good as his word; so that he con∣sented to his demand of Galsuiud, and gave her to him without any scruple. But in that Mar∣riage, Chilperic met not with those sweets of Wedlock which he expected Galsuiud was proud and haughty, as all the Spanish wo∣men are, and not of a humour to brook that her Husband should, share-with another Heart, and that affection which she believ'd to be only due to her self: she soon perceiv'd the Love which her unfaithful Husband had for Fredegond, and display'd her resentment with a vengeance. Chilperic, accustom'd only to the patience of Au∣donaire, could not submit himself to Galsuinds outragious transports, and Fredegond left nothing omitted to exasperate the King against her. For in regard she beheld her certain ruin before her Eyes, unless she ruin'd the Queen, she never bog∣gled at the taking a resolution to prevent her, and she understood so well how to make the best of the shallow feeblenesses of which the King had given her such frequent marks, that she perswaded him to make away Galsuind. Thereupon, Chil∣peric, after he had fully resolv'd upon it, made a shew of more then usual complyance with the Queen's humour, and never visited Fredegond, but withal the precautions imaginable, that he might take from Galsuind, all occasion of mistrust, and when he found her quite cur'd of all her jea∣lous suspitions, one night that he was in Bed with

her, he strangled her with her own Hair.

Sigebert being inform'd of the Death of his Sister in Law, thought it his duty to revenge it, and layd the design without ever considering that the Murderer was his Brother. He engag'd also Gontran to joyn with him. On the other side, Chilperic rais'd an Army to defend himself; but before he took the Field, he Marry'd Fredegund. However, he did not prove successful in that War, for that his Army being defeated, and his eldest Son Theodebert having lost his Life in the Battel, he himself made a hard shift to escape to Tour∣nay, where Sigebert immediately besieg'd him. But Fredegund, who made a slight matter of commiting the greatest crimes▪ suborn'd a crew of Ruffians, who assasinated Sigebert in his Tent, and by that means deliver'd the King her Hus∣band. For which piece of service, Chilperic thought himself so highly beholding to her, that he could not imagin any better way to gratify her, then by settling the Crown upon Fredegond's Children, to the prejudice of those whom he had by Audouaire. But Meroveus to whom the Kingdom belong'd, as being his eldest Son, un∣derstanding what was a brewing so contrary to hi•• interest, took Arms against his Father, and retir'd to Rou••u, whither Brunebaut, Sigebert's Widow had been banisht by her Brothers in Law. There he beheld that Princess, and thought her so amiable, tho' he were then above fourty Years of Age, that he resolv'd to Marry her, To that purpose, he made the Proposal to her, and with

little trouble obtain'd her consent, because she look't upon that Marriage as the means to obtain her liberty. So soon as Chilperic receiv'd the news of this Marriage, he march'd directly to Roueu, with all the Forces that he could muster together; nor did the City make any great re∣sistance, so that by the taking of it, Chilperic be∣came master of the new Marri'd couple. Pre∣sently he declar'd the Marriage void, as being solemniz'd without his consent; and after he had shut up Brunebaut in the old Palace of Roue••; he march'd to Soissons, taking his Son along with him, where he was no sooner arriv'd, but he was besieg'd by the Champenois, who took part with Childebert, the Son of Sigebert. Fredegond▪ that she might deliver her self from the captivi∣ty of a Siege, got out of the Town with Clovis; the Youngest of Audouair's Children, nor did she return till after the War was ended, by the defeat of the Champenois. At hee return, the invasion of those People was the subiect of all the Town discourse, and Fredegond cunningly in∣fus'd it into Chilperic's read, that they had never enter'd into his Dominions but at the sollicita∣tion of Merov••••••, who by their assistance, thought to have seiz'd upon the Throne. And tho' there were a Thousand reasons to have justify'd the conduct of that Prince, Chilperic believ'd him guilty, because Fredegond accus'd him, and therefore after he had caus'd his Head to be shav'd, shut him up in a Cloister. But the cruel Queen was not satisfy'd with that punishment, which was not deem'd severe enough,

for an imaginary crime: and rightly judging, that she could not secure the Crown to her Chil∣dren so long as Audouair's Offspring remain'd alive, she thought it behov'd her to send them out of the World. Therefore, to bring this to pass, 'twas requisite to engage Meroveus in some new exploit by which he might incurr his Fathers farther indignation. For which purpose, she sent Gontran Bosor, who was wholly devoted to her in∣terests, to discourse him in the Monastery. Pre∣sently the Young Prince know him, because he had seen him at the head of Sigebert's Armies, but he was ignorant of the secret engagements between him and his Mother in Law; so that he easily fell into the snare which the traytor had laid for him, who propos'd to him, his leaving the Convent to head a party that he had ready to embody under his Banners, and to that pur∣pose, gave him an opportunity to make his escape. But no sooner was he arriv'd at the place appointed, but he was assassinated by the very person into whose arms he had thrown himself, for protection. Which Chilperic look't upon as a great piece of service, as being misinform'd, and not understanding the depth of the affair.

There remain'd now no more then Clovis,* 1.8 of all the Children of Audo∣naire, and Fredegond was not without hopes of being rid of him too. But Heaven, that would not permit her to enjoy the fruit of so many crimes, in less then six Months swept away all the three Children she had by Chilperic, with the Pestilence. So that the King not having any

more Children then Clovis, plac'd all his affections upon him, and consequently render'd him more odious to Fredegond. Nor did the Young Prince less mortally hate his Mother in Law; and tho' it highly conccern'd him to conceal his senti∣ments, which otherwise might prove his bane, yet could he not forbear to entrust his secret thoughts with one of her Maids of Honour, with whom he had an intreague. So that as Lovers can keep nothing hid from their Mistresses, he told her one day, that if he ever came to the Crown, he would not leave the Death of his Brothers unreveng'd, and that he would extend the punishment of Fredegond to the utmost ri∣gor of the Law. This severe language being reported to Fredegond, as she had great reason to, fear the dire effects of it, so she made it her business to prevent her Son in Law: And to that purpose, she accus'd Clovis to his Father, for hav∣ing destroy'd the three Children born of their Bo∣dy's in lawfull Wedlock, by vertue of certain charms, compos'd by one of her Maids of Honour and her Daughter, the very same person in whom the Prince had put so dangerous a confidence. Thereupon the King, falling into the snare, tho' so palpable and obvious to the sight, caus'd the two unfortunate Lady's to be arrested; who be∣ing put to the Rack, that they might free them-from from torment, whatever was ask'd 'em, they confest not only all, but more then was sufficient for the conviction of Clovis. So that the King, after he had seen the verbal re∣port of the depositions, commanded Didier and Boson, the Captains of his Guards and Fredegond's

creatures, to seize the person of his Son; which was presently done with more then ordinary in∣humanity. Immediately by order of the King his Father, they carry'd the Prince to Chelles, and from thence to Noisy, beyond the Marne, where they stab'd him, and upon their return perswaded the King, that he layd violent hands upon himself, to avoid the deserved punish∣ment of his crime. Some few Days after, the Maid of Honour and her Daughter were sen∣tenc'd to be burnt alive, and accordingly Executed in the publick Market place of Paris. Nor did the cruelties of Fredegond stop there. For being afraid least any one should remain alive, that might revenge the Death of so ma∣ny innocents, she sent in like manner to the other World, both Andouoire and Basina her Daughter; altho that, being shut up in a Cloister, they were not in a condition to give her any occasion of jealousy. And now there was nothing wanting more, to satisfy the ambition of this remorstess Princess, but to have a successor to Chilperic born of her own body. Propitious Heaven also, not yet resolv'd to punish her transgressions, gave her one who was call'd Clotaire, in whose person France being once more reunited, was never since divided again.

But neither was Cruelty Fredegond's only vice; for her unchastity was no less; and several Lov∣ers had a share in her favour, among which were Didier and Boson already mention'd, and Beleran, Archbishop of Bourdeaux. But he who enjoy'd her Heart the longest, was Landry de la Tour, Mayor of the Palace, who being both

Younger and handsomer then the rest, constrain'd em to give him place. Nevertheless, altho the intreague was publickly known at Court, the King had no knowledge of it; Husband's being generally the persons who are latest inform'd of the disor∣ders of their Families. However he discover'd it at length, and that discovery cost him his Life.

One Day that he had appointed for a match at Hunting,* 1.9 he rose betimes in the Morning, leaving Fredegond a sleep in her Bed. But the weather not proving fa∣vourable, enforc'd him to return sooner then he was wont to do. Thus he rode back full speed, attended only by one Page, pre∣sently alighted, and ascending by a back pair of Stairs, enter'd the Queen's chamber, who was then fiting at her Toilet with her hair about her Ears; and at the same time stealing softly be∣hind her chair, tickl'd her gently upon the Shoul∣der with his wand. To whom the Queen, who was intent about dressing her Head and cur••ing her locks, and having her imagination fill'd with the Idea of her Favorite, without ever looking be∣hind her, Ah Landry, said she, that's no trick of a right Courrier to come behind a Lady. The King surpriz'd at such an amourous and familiar piece of merriment, slipt out of the chamber agen, without so much as one word, leaving Fredegond, who was become terrible of her mi∣stake, in a most terrible astonishment, and the less he seem'd to take notice of it, the more did the jealous Princess believe she had reason to be afraid, as making no question, but she should soon feel the effects of his revenge. By this time

Chilperic was got a Horseback agen, and gone to find out his retinue, who were not yet return'd. And Fredegond made use of that interval of time, to resolve upon what she had to do, in such a nice and delicate conjuncture. Immediately she sent for Landry, and having told him what had befallen her, ask'd his advice what course to take. Landry advis'd her to retire forthwith to Gun∣tran, and to put her self under his protection. The Queen beholding him with Eyes, which, tho' full of wistfull passion, yet darted forth some certain mixtures of despite, For a Knight, said she, like you, that have acquir'd some repu∣tation by your courage, the resolution which you would infuse unto me, is nothing generous. As much a Woman as I am, let me take my own course. Chilperie must die, or we are both ruin'd; nor have we minute to loose upon this occasi∣on. He is gone a hunting with a very small at∣tendance: either then resolve to send him out of the World, or to drop your head upon a Scaffold. Landry stood a while like one in a trance at such a desparate proposal; but a length after he had ponder'd for some few minutes, with a fix'd resolution, he shall die, Madam, said he, and you shall be obey'd. At the same time he flung out of the Chamber without speaking a word more, and being return'd home, he sent for six undaunted Ruffians, that feat'd no colours, and whom he knew to be entirely devoted to his in∣terests, to whom he unfolded his design, and having furnish'd 'em with the best Horses in his stable, and Money in their Pockets to make

their escapes, which way they thought most con∣venient, he directed 'em to the place where the King was a Hunting. Away flew the apposted villains like Lightning, dog'd the King all the remainder of the Day, and keeping close up with him by the favour of the Dusk, till he was got all alone into a solitary Village, there they gave him several mortal Wounds, and flung themselves into the Forrest adioyning. Fredegond understand∣ing that the business was done, put her self un∣der the protection of the Bishop of Paris, and after that, sent to Guntran, to offer him the Re∣gency of her Kingdom, and the education of her Son; who accepted both, adn undertook to de∣fend 'em against Childebert and his Mother Brune∣baut, who resolv'd to dispute the Crown with Young Clotaire. Fredegond finding her self free from all controul, continued her licentious man∣ner of living, with so much open scandal, that Pretextatus Archbishop of Rouen, could not for∣bear severely to reprehend her. But the liberty which he took, offended the Queen to that de∣gree, as not enduring to be reprimanded by her inferiors, she caus'd the Prelat to be assassi∣nated at the Altar as he was saying Mass. Some time after, Guntran happ'ning to die, Fredegond had still so great a reputation in the Kingdom, as to give the Regency of the Realm to Landry. Childebert, who pretended it to be his Right, was so enrag'd to be put by, that he enter'd the Dominions of Clotaire with Fire and Sword. The Queen, nothing astonisht at the approach of his Army, resolv'd to march in person against her

Enemies; and taking her Son along with her, she carry'd him from Rank to Rank, as a sight most proper to encourage the Soldiers: which done, she gave Battel with so much Valour, Conduct and Success, that she utterly defeated Childeber's Forces. After which Victory, she fell into Austratia, where she prov'd very victo∣rious, till a malignant Fever put an end both to her Days and her ambitious Designs.

Dagobert's Amonrs.

* 1.10DAGOBERT, the Son of Clotaire, had espous'd in his Fa∣ther's life time, Gomartude, an Austratian Prin∣cess, a kinswoman to Cunibert and Pepin. But there was so terrible an Antipathy between the young marry'd Couple, that▪ it was never to be reconcil'd; whither it was through an insnr∣mountable disagreement of their Humours, or whither they inherited the hatred of their Fa∣milies; there having been always an extraordi∣nary aversion between the Pinces of the Blood of Meroveus, from whence Dagobert descended,̄̄ and those of the Clodi•••• Branch, from which the Queen deriv'd her original. Dagobert, who was a great lover of Musick, going one day to the Abby of Romilly, to hea•• Vespers, heard a voice that pleas'd him extreamly. So that after Mass was done, he went into the Convent and desir'd to see the person that had sung with so

melodious a voice. With that, the Abbess sent for her, and presenting her to the King, told him her name was Nantild. Nor was Dagobert less charm'd with her Beauty, then he had been taken with her Voice, and leading her aside, told her, 'twas a great loss to the World, that so amiable a Person should be mew'd up in a Cloi∣ster. To which Nantild repl'yd, That she had not assum'd the vail of a sequester'd Life, but in obedience to her Parents, who had constrain'd her to quit the World; and that if his Majesty would grant her his Protection, she would re∣nounce her Vows. The King was over-joy'd to find his Hopes so fair∣y flatter'd by the yielding disposition of the young Virgin, for whom he be∣gan already to feel a violent Passion. So that he was no sooner return'd to Paris, but he sought which way to break the Knots that bound him to Gomatrude; and finding his Prelates com∣plaisant enough to approve his Design, he caus∣ed his Marriage to be declar'd void: and be∣ing by that means at liberty, he sent for Nant∣ild out of her Convent, and publickly espous'd her.

But Heav'n was not pleas'd to prosper this Marriage; for the new Queen had no Off-spring; which insensibly cool'd the Affection of Dagobert toward her, and infus'd into him a desire to go and hold his Grand Assizes in all the Prin∣cipal Cities of his Realm, according to the custom of the Kings of the First Race. Now while he lay at Blois, a young Lady came and presented a Petition to him, demanding Justice

against the Count, who abusing his Authority, had possess'd himself of certain Lands that be∣long'd to her Father. She made her Addresses with such a comely Grace, that the King was charm'd with her deportment, and promis'd that Justice should be done her. After she was gone, he sent for the Count, and being inform'd of the particulars of the whole Affair, he com∣manded him to make Raguetrude satisfaction; for that was the name of the fair Lady. The next day she came with her Father to return her humble Thanks to the King, who order'd 'em both to follow the Court, during his Pro∣gress. Dagobert also gave so many marks of his Af∣fection to the Lady, that she could not remain unsensible; and at length, upon his Return, she was brought to Bed, at Orleans, of a Son, who was Christen'd Sigebert by Aribert King of Aqui∣tain, who was Dagobert's Brother. The Cere∣mony of Baptism was solemniz'd by St. Amant, Bishop of Ʋtrecht. 'Tis reported, that the In∣fant, not then above Forty days old, when the Bishop pronoun'd these words, VIS BAPTI∣ZARI, answer'd VOLO, which extreamly surpriz'd the whole Assembly. Raguetrude, for several years, preserv'd the Heart and Inclina∣tions, of Dagobert, remaining faithful to him. But happ'ning again into the company of Nan∣tild, he could not withstand her Caresses; and then he had a Son by her, that was nam'd Clovis, and who succeeded him in the Kingdom. The Birth of that young Prince, re-kindl'd his first Flames; he begg'd Pardon of Nantild for his

youthful going astray, and sacrific'd Raguetrude to her Love. Who seeing her self despis'd, re∣tir'd into a Convent.

Alpayde, Mistress to King Pepin, Mayor of the Palace, under the Reign of Childebert II.

TOward the end of the First Race, the suc∣ceeding Kings gave themselves up in such a manner, to their Pleasures, that they left the care of the Government so entirely to their Ma∣jors, that they never medl'd with Publick Busi∣ness. Pepin exercis'd that Dignity under the Reign of Childebert II. He was one of those Great Genius's that Heaven seem'd to have rais'd, for no other reason, then to Command others. All the French had so great a Reve∣rence for him, that they lookt upon his Will and Commands, as so many Oracles. 'Tis true, that his Virtues render'd him extreamly worthy of that absolute Power to which he was ad∣vanc'd. He was an enemy to Sloth and Effe∣minacy, and during the first year of his Mini∣stry, he seem'd to be insensible of Love. He had always liv'd in great Reputation with Plectrude his Wife, thô she were somewhat stricken in years, and of an imperious Humour. But there are certain Minutes, when the great∣est Heroes suffer themselves to be surpriz'd by

that dangerous Passion, which equals 'em with other Men. A French Lord, whose Name was Dodon, had had a quarrel with one of his Neigh∣bors, and had kill'd him. Upon which, the kin∣dred of the Person slain, prosecuted him with great fervency: and according to all outward ap∣pearances, he dould not have avoided suffering the extremity of the Law, unless he obtain'd the King's Pardon; which his Sister Alpayde went to beg of Pepin. This Lady was one of the most amiable Persons in the Kingdom, and her Man∣ners and Deportment were so engaging, that 'twas a difficult thing to refuse her whatever she demanded. Pepin beheld her with Admiration, and felt, upon the sight of her, something that he had never been sensible of before. He up∣braided in private his own weakness; and was just going to send back. Alpayde, with the rude∣ness of one that scorn'd the Tiranny of Love. Nevertheless, he could not resolve to lose her for ever; and therefore, that he might have a pretence to see her again, he told he would ex∣amin the Informations, and that if the Fact were not very foul, but deserv'd Pardon, he would grant it her Brother. After that he coun∣terfeited scruples, started obstacles, and at last, after he had been often waited on by Alpayde, he declar'd to her, that Dondon's Life depended upon her complyances with his Affection. The Lady stood surpriz'd at his Discourse, which was altogether unexpected; she blush'd, and look'd pale. But at length, Pepin, accompa∣nied his Courtship, and his Proposal, with such

passionate Terms, and such large Promises, that Alpayde could no longer hold out. She yielded to his importunities, and surrendring to his Ca∣resses, became the Mother of Charles Mar••••ll, who afterwards became so famous in History. Plectrude having discover'd this Amorous Intreague, made a most terrible Harburlie, and became so outragiously troublesome to her Husband, that her Extravagancies exasperated him to seek out ways to be rid of her. 'Twas a great vex∣ation to a Person of his Rank and Reputation, to see that such Domestick Squabbles should ren∣der him the object of the Publick Lampoonry. Nevertheless, he could not quit Alpayde: and he believ'd it no less an unbecoming weakness, to sacrifice her to his Wife because she made a noise. He therefore made use of the liberty which the French were wont to take at that time, which was, to repudiate their Wives, contrary to the Prohibitions of the Church and the Ho∣ly Canons. He put away Plectrude, and con∣tinu'd his Intreague so publickly with Alpayde, that Lambert Bishop of Liege, after frequent and severe Admonitions, both in private and pub∣lick, threaten'd to Excommunicate him. Alpayde was alarum'd at this, and made her Com∣plaints to her Brother Dodon, who being a Man Violent and Revengful, murther'd the Holy Bishop. For which it was not long e're he re∣ceiv'd condigne punishment from Heaven; for he fell into the Lowzie Sickness, which drove him to such a terrible despair, that he threw himself into the Meuse. Some time after Pepin dy'd, and

Plectrude made her self Mistriss, both of the Go∣vernment, and of the Person of Charles, whom she shut up in the Castle of Cologne, which was the usual place of her Residence. Charles, however, found a way to make his escape out of Prison, and having found a considerable Par∣ty in the Kingdom, got himself chosen Mayor of the Palace, and constrain'd Plectrude to re∣nounce all her Pretensions.

The Amours of Charlemaigne.

THO' Charlemaigne had several Mi∣stresses,* 1.11 while his four Wives liv'd, we know the Names of none, but of Re∣ginia and Adelond: nor do we know who was the Mother of Pepin, the eldest of his Natural Sons.

This Emperor passing through Mayence, as he was going to make War against the Saxons, Count Ganelon, considerable for his Rank and Quality, in that part of Germany, besought him to receive Reginia his near Kinswoman, into the number of Luigard the Empresse's Maids of Ho∣nour, who had accompanied him in that Jour∣ney. Charles, consented to it willingly, and found the Virgin so amiable, that he many times took delight to divertize himself in her compa∣ny, after he had tyr'd himself with the toil of business. And at first the Emperor thought of making no more then a Pastime of his Discour∣ses

with the young Lady, but in a short time he soon perceiv'd, that he had another sort of Kindness for Reginia, and begg'd her to corre∣spond with his Passion. How was it possible to resist the importunities of a Prince, who was already the Admiration of all Europe? Reginia suffer'd her self to be overcome, and grew big with Child. Charles, afraid lest the Empress should discover the Intreague, left her at Aix la Chapelle, where she dy'd soon after. In the mean time Reginia was brought to Bed of Frogon, he was afterwards Bishop of Mets; and the next year of another Prince, whose Name was Hugh. Nor was Reginia ungrateful to her Kins∣man Gamelon, to whom she was beholding for her Fortune; for she procur'd him Preferments and Employments, which oblig'd him to follow the Court. And in regard he was frequently in his Kinswoman's Chamber, during these marches and journeys he beheld among the rest of her Companions, a Lady, whose Name was Adelond, with whom he fell so deeply in love, that he resolv'd to Marry her. To which pur∣pose he besought the Emperor's permission, so soon as he return'd to Aix la Chapelle; who at first, readily gave his consent. But having bet∣ter relish'd Adelond's Wit, he could not resolve to behold her in the possession of another; and having therefore found some pretence to recall his Word, he engag'd himself altogether with Adelond, and forsook Reginia. Nor was this Second Mistriss less fruitful then the First; for she made him the Father of Prince Thierry. How∣ever,

the Emperor did not give himself up so absolutely to his amorous Pleasures, as to forget the Affairs of his Dominions. Understanding therefore, that Alphonsus, King of Leon had made a League against him with Fortune Garsil, King of Navarr, and with Marsillus, the Moorish King of Cordona, he cross'd the Pyrenans in or∣der to fight 'em. Ganelon thought this an op∣portunity to be reveng'd of the Emperor for bereaving him of his Mistress, and for having dishonour'd his Kinswoman. Thereupon he went over secretly, and by giving 'em season∣able notice of the march of the Imperial Army, was the occasion of the loss of the Battle of Ron∣cèvaux, wherein the choice of the French Nobi∣lity were slain. However, the Treason of the Count was discover'd, and he receiv'd a punish∣ment proportionable to the enormity of his Crime; the marks of which are to be seen by what befell the Tours of Monthlery, and de la Queve in Brie, that both belong'd to him: for they were half demolish'd, and so have ever finde remain'd, Reginia, who had no share in the Conspiracy, was no less exempted from any Consequences of his punishment; as being all a∣long in high esteem with Charlemaigne, who put her Children into his Will.

[year 814] Charles's Galantries had been so publick, that they gave an occasion to the Prin∣cesses his Daughters, for whom he had not been very careful to provide Husbands, to seek out for Lovers themselves: and tho' the Emperor had notice of their irregular Conduct, he did

but laugh at it, and let 'em live according to their own Fancies. But after his death, Lewis, his eldest Son, who was of a different character from his Father, and desirous to remedy these disorders, gave Commission to the Princes Walon, Warner, Lambert and Tagobar, diligently to enquire into 'em, and to punish those that should be found guilty. To this purpose, he sent 'em before to Aix la Chapelle, and follow'd 'em himself with a puissant Army, to support the execution of his Orders, and oppose the Pretensions of his Sisters, who had made a pow∣erful Party against him, and with their Arms in their hands, demanded their share in the Suc∣cession and Inheritance, left by their Father, The Prisons of Aix la Chapelle were soon fill'd with those who had abus'd the easie Nature of the Princesses, or who had favour'd and encou∣rag'd their unchast Amours, and they were pu∣nish'd according as their Crimes deserv'd. Har∣win, who had been summon'd to answer to the Informations exhibited against him, made his appearance, but arm'd and well attended; and when Warner and Lambert order'd him to be examin'd upon the Interrogatories, he drew his Sword and slew the first, and dangerously wound∣ed the other in the Thigh. However, he could not escape death; for he was massaker'd with all his followers, by the Prince's Officers and Guards. When Lewis also arriv'd at Aix la Chapelle, he sent for his Sisters, and after he had caus'd his Father's Will to be read in their Hearing, he unbraided 'em with their loose

Conduct, and then sent 'em away to the Lands, of which Charlemagne had given 'em the Rents and Profits, and which he assign'd 'em for their Dowries, for term of life only.

Valdrade, Mistress to Lothaire King of Lorraine.

[year 862] AFter the death of Lewis the Debonaire, his Dominions were divided among his Children. Lothaire was Emperor and King of Italy; Lewis obtain'd Germany; Charles had Burgundy with Neustria; and Pepin enjoy'd Aqui∣tain. Lothaire turning Monk, left three Male Children, Lewis, Lothaire and Charles. Lewis shar'd Italy, together with the Empire; Lothaire the Kindom of Lorraine; and Charles, Provence, with part of Burgundy. The young Lothaire had marry'd in his Father's life time, Thietberge the Daughter of Hubert, Count of Burgundy Trans∣jurana, at this day call'd Savoy. He was tender∣ly belov'd by that Princess; and on the other side, he had all the Affection for her, that her Virtue deserv'd: but this Union lasted not long. For Hunting being the chief Divertisement of this Prince, one day being surpriz'd by a violent Storm, while he was impriming a Stag near Metz, he retir'd to a Castle hard by, where he was receiv'd after a most obliging manner by Valdrade, the Daughter of the Lord, who was the owner of it. He was no less charm'd with

her Wit, then her Beauty, and thought him∣self Happy, that the bad weather had procur'd him such a fortunate meeting. Afterwards he paid Valdrade such frequent 〈◊〉〈◊〉, that the Queen perceiving him so much estrang'd from her, was resolv'd to know what sort of pastimes he follow'd. To that purpose she caus'd him to be dogg'd; and by that means discover'd that she had a Rivaless. Nor could she dissemble her Jealousie. She plagu'd Lothaire with such tart and bitter reproaches, that to be reveng'd of her, he no longer observ'd any Decorum. He sent for Valdrade to his Palace, and allow'd her as many Officers, as if she had already been his Wife. Valdrade also, abusing the Power which she had over the King's Heart, perswaded him to get rid of Thietberge, whose fretful taunting Humour disturb'd the King's pleasures, and to dissolve the Marriage. Thereupon Lothaire pro∣pos'd to Gontier, Arch-Bishop of Cologne, his Grand Almoner, the design which he had to re∣pudiate the Queen, and that he might engage him to a compliance, the King put him in hopes, that so soon as he should be at liberty, he would marry his Niece Hermengard. Flatter'd with these pleasing Hopes, Gontier summons a Natio∣nal Council, to meet at Metz, compos'd of all the Prelats of the Kingdom, and having gain'd Thi∣etgand, Archbishop of Treves, who promis'd to serve him with all his Friends, he propos'd the Dissolution of the Marriage, upon these grounds, that Thietberge had committed Incest with her own Brother, and that the King had been affi∣anc'd

to Valdrade before he marry'd the Queen. He likewise produc'd false witnesses to support the Calumny, and so well manag'd his Affairs, that he obta••••'d whatever the King desir'd. Thi∣etberge was summon'd: she was examin'd upon the Articles exhibited against her, and confron∣ted by the Witnesses, who persisted in their De∣positions. Upon which, the Assembly order'd, that she should be divorc'd from the King her Husband, and banish'd whither his Majesty should think convenient. Now, tho' this Sentence set Lothair at liberty to enjoy his Amours, never∣theless, he was not wholly satisfy'd. Valdrade would needs be crown'd, and secure the successi∣on of the Kingdom to the Children begot upon her Body: and with this design, she press'd the King so to order the matter, that the Clergy of Lorraine should more clearly explain themselves upon the invalidity of Thietberge's Marriage. Upon that, Lothaire calls a second Assembly, to meet at Aix la Chapelle, where he represented to the Prelates, that it being necessary for the pub∣lick good, that he should have Children to in∣herit his Crown, he desir'd 'em to consider, whe∣ther his Marriage with Theitberge were con∣tracted in due Form, to the end he might take her again, if she were his lawful Wife, or mar∣ry another, if his first Nuptials were of no force. Wherein he testify'd such a seeming Sincerity to the Assembly, that they gave him permission to marry another: and he immediately caus'd this Sentence to be publish'd over all the Kingdom. This done, he declar'd to Gontier, that he had

a full intention to accomplish his promise, and engag'd the Archbishop to send him his Neice Hermengard; but after he had obtain'd whatever he desir'd, he return'd her back to her Uncle, and espous'd Valdrade publickly at Savern.

Thietberge finding her self so unworthily and undeservedly us'd,* 1.12 retir'd to her Bro∣ther, who implor'd the aid of Charles the Bald, King of France, and Lewis the German, who were both glad of the pretence to invade the Domini∣ous of their Nephew Lothaire. But Nicholas VI. then Pope, having intelligence of the War that was just ready to breake into a flame, sent away his Legate Arsenius, with Orders to accommodate the difference and take cognizance of the affair. After Arsenius has fully inform'd himself of every thing, he return'd to Rome, accompany'd with the two Archbishops, Gontier, and Thiet∣gaud, who pretended to obtain at Rome a confirmation of the sentence given against Thiet∣berge, But the Pope understanding their pre∣varication, and treachery against the Queen, at a Council assembled on purpose, in St. John di Laterano, cancell'd the sentence, depos'd the two Prelats, and excommunicated 'em. Instead of submitting to this Judgment, they retir'd to the Emperor Lewis, Lothaires Brother, and wrote an insolent letter to his ••onnels, wherein they declar'd himself to be excommunicated. Which done they joyn'd with John Archbishop of Ravenna and P••otius Patriarch of Constantinople, and had like to have made a schism in the Church. But Heaven protected the justice of Nicolas's cause,

and enforc'd all those Prelats to submit to his Authority.

The Pope sent back Arsenius to Metz, that he might oblige Lothaire to take the Queen his Wife agen. But the Legat unwilling to do any thing of his own head in so nice a matter, assembled all the Bishops of France, and having made known to those Prelats, the innocency of Thi∣etberge, he desir'd 'em to instruct him what course it became him to take for reparation of the scandal which Lothaire had commmitted. Thereupon it was resolv'd in that assembly, that Arsenius should admonish the King in the name of the Holy See, to take his Lawfull Wife again, and to break of all commerce with Val∣drade, under pain of Excommunication. The Legat acquitted himself of his Commission with all the respect that was due to His Royal Majesty, but yet withall the resolution and constancy that became his character. Lothair, surpriz'd at such a terrible menace, recall'd Thietberge, and put away Valdrade, who being cited to Rome, order∣ed Angeltrude, her confident, and the Daughter of Count Mainfroy to sollicit her pardon. For An∣geltrude was oblig'd to take that journey, with the Legat, for her own interests, as being un∣der Excommunication for having quitted Boson her Husband, to marry Auger his Vassal. When Angeltrude departed from Metz, she appear'd to be the greatest penitent in the World, and fully resolv'd to do penance for her past disorders. But she was hardly arriv'd at the foot of the Alps, when being no longer able to live absented

from the person she lov'd, but she slipt away secret∣ly without saying any thing to the Legate, and hasten'd back to seek out her Lover. Nor was Lothaire more constant in his resolution: For so soon as h•• saw that Arsenius's back was turn'd, he expell'd the innocent Thietberge again, and re∣new'd his illegall engagements with Vildrade; and carry'd his violence so high, that he made an attempt upon the Life of the disgusted Prin∣cess.

Thietberge finding her self no longer safe in her Husbands Dominions retir'd to Charles the Bald,* 1.13 who took her into his protecti∣on, and offer'd the King his Nephew, a Cham∣pion to maintain the rights of the wrong'd Prin∣cess according to the custom of those times. But the Pope would not suffer that no affair which had been already adjudg'd, should be referr'd to the hazard of a combat, and gave Charles to understand, that he could proceed no farther without entrenching upon his Authority. So that the King being unwilling to displease his Holi∣ness, contented himself with only exhorting Lo∣thaire to take his Wife agen, but could not ob∣tain any thing from him.

The Princess therefore perceiving there was nothing more to be expected on that side,* 1.14 return'd to her Brother Hubert, who having no other way to maintain his Sisters interests, but by Force and Arms, rais'd an Army and fell into Lothaire's Dominions with Fire and Sword. In revenge of which, Lothaire muster'd a more numerous power together, led 'em

himself, and crossing the Mountain Iura, repayd Hubert in his own coyn; but fortune did not favour him: For he lost three Armies, without being able to take so much as one Town. Lo∣thaire discourag'd by so many losses sen•• Conrard, the Father of Bacul against the rebellious Prince; who was more fortunate then the King his master. For he perceiving the Passes ill guarded, and sur∣prizing Hubert, utterly defeated his Men, and slew him himself with his own hand. Thietberge understanding the Death of her Brother, re∣tir'd to Rome, where she took upon her the habit of a Nun, and shut her self up in a Cloister, leav∣ing the King her Husband to enjoy his Amours in peace and quiet. But Death soon after put an end to his Life and his disorders.

Richild, Mistress to Charles the Bald, Emperor and King of France.

* 1.15CHARLES the Bald had Mar∣ry'd Ermentrude, Grand-Daugh∣ter to Adelart, who had been Treasurer of the Royal Exchequer, in the Reign of Lewis the Debonaire, his Father, and who had greatly en∣rich'd himself at his Masters cost. This Prince liv'd very lovingly with his Queen, and shew'd himself as complaisant towards her, as if there had been no inequality in their conditions. But

after Thietberge had quitted the World, Richild her Neice, betook her self to Queen Ermentrude, who endeavour'd to comfort her in her misfor∣tune: And she recommended her so often to the King her Husband, and spoke so highly of her, that he was desirous to know whither the praises, which his Queen bestow'd on her, were true or no. He several times discours'd her, and as oft he found in her Wit, a Tour so free and yet so delicate, that he could not chuse but Love her. 'Twas a long time however before he durst ad∣venture to discover his passion; because he per∣ceiv'd her enrich'd with sentiments so vertuous, that he was afraid of incurring her displeasure. Nevertheless he could not long contain himself within the bounds of this reservedness. His dig∣nity and the reputation he had acquir'd by a Thou∣sand glorious exploits, put him in hopes that he should be heard with some kind of indulgence. He spoke, but met with resistance from Richild's Wit. For she made use of all her address to cure him of his Love; and told him with an extra∣ordinary constancy, that having been a witness of the disorders which Lothairs passion for Val∣drade had occasion'd in his Family, she would not give the same occasion of grief and vexati∣on to Queen Ermentrude, her benefactress, and draw down the curse of Heaven upon a Prince whom she esteem'd. Richild persever'd a long time in this resolution; but at last, (for what Woman is able to resist a lovely Prince and ve∣ry amorous?) she suffer'd her self to be over∣come by one had been Victor over many.

Nevertheless, she so well observ'd her measures, and carry'd her self with that decorum in this in∣treague, that the Queen had never any know∣ledge of it. Which in Charles created so high an esteem of her virtue, that after the Death of Ermentrude, he marry'd her.

Ansegard, Mistress to Lewis the Stammerer, Emperor and King of France.

* 1.16DURING the long Wars that Charles the Bald wag'd with Lewis the German and his Children, Lewis the Stammerer liv'd with Richild his Mother in Law, who was Regent of the Kingdom in the absence of the Emperor her Husband. And in regard it was his interest to live in friendship with her, as being Mistress of all the Kings favours, he had a kindness for all persons for whom that Prin∣cess had a value. He had observ'd, that An∣segard, of all her Maids of Honour, had the greatest share in her affection, which was the reason that he study'd to please her with an extraordinary assiduity. But long converse and society had begot a more tender passion between 'em; insomuch that Lewis the Stammerer had two Children by her, Lewis and Carloman; and she was brought to bed of both, without any bo∣dys perceiving that she was big with Child. Af∣ter

the Emperor return'd from his Journey into Italy, whither he went to receive the Crown Imperial from the Popes hands, he bethought himself of marrying his Son, and told him he had design'd him for a Wife Ricarda the Daugh∣ter of Alfred King of England. You may ea∣sily conjecture the grief of those two lovers, when they heard the news. Lewis therefore had re∣course to Richild, and besought her to make use of all her credit to perswade his Father to con∣sent that he might marry Ansegard. But reason of State prevail'd above the Emperors com∣placency for his Wife, and Lewis was constrain'd to conform to his Fathers will.

After the Death of Charles the Bald, Richild who was in great credit and had a powerfull par∣ty at Court, endeavour'd to set the Crown upon the Head of his Brother Boson, upon whom she had already perswaded the Emperor her Husband to settle the Counties of Provence, Mi∣lan, and Paris, under the title of the Kingdom of Arles. But the French would not permit that prejudice to be done to the right and lawful Heir, and therefore acknowledg'd Lewis for their King. So that Richild finding her self frustrated in her expectations, employ'd all her credit with Ansegard to make her peace with the King, whose passion▪ for that Lady was not at all abated; for he had still a high respect for her, tho' he liv'd very contentedly with Ricarda. Richild also promis'd Ansegard, to employ all her Friends in order to secure the succession of the Kingdom to her Children; and to assure her

that she would never part from her interests, she propos'd to her a match between her Son C••••∣leman, and Ingoberge, the Daughter of Boson. Ansegard relishing the proposal, the two Prin∣cesses resolv'd to make it to the Emperor at a banquet that Boson was to give him. And they carry'd it with so much neatness, and so much artifice, that they obtain'd of Lewis to consent to the Match. And for fear the Em∣peror should alter his mind, they caus'd the nup∣tials to be solemniz'd in a short time after. But the Emperor dying the same Year, there hap∣pen'd great disputes about the succession, in re∣gard that Ricarda, who was left big with Child, was soon after brought to bed of Charles the Simple. The States assembl'd at Meaux to re∣gulate this difference, and Boson left nothing omitted to procure the exclusion of the Posthu∣mus, but he could not compass his design, and therefore contented himself with obtaining the regency for Lewis and Carleman during the mino∣rity of Charles. 'Tis true, that when they were in possession of the Government, they under∣stood so well how to fix their Authority by Bo∣son's counsel and intreagues, that they caus'd themselves to be acknowledg'd Kings, and di∣vided the Kingdom between 'em at Amiens.

The Amours of Blanche, the Wife of Lewis Clotaire III, K. of France.

* 1.17LOTHAIRE, after he had suc∣cessfully concluded the War of Lorraine, and taken Jeoffrey, Count of Verduu, Pris'ner, associated his Son Lewis to the Crown, and marry'd him to Blanche the Daughter of Rothbaud, Count of Arles. She was a Princess of an exalted Courage, a lively Wit, and a Humour inclin'd to Gallantry. On the other side, Lewis was a weak Prince, and whose Genius was extreamly limited. Blanche therefore, well understanding his defects▪ despis'd him, and suf∣fer'd her self to be taken with the Assiduities which Jeoffrey paid her. Nevertheless, she care∣fully conceal'd his Intreague, and carry'd her self so cunningly, that she obtain'd his Liberty of King Lothaire. At the same time Ancelin Dalbron, Bishop of Laon, was fallen in love with the Princess, and tho' he were already a∣bove Fifty years of age, nevertheless, she for∣bore not to listen to his Courtship, because the City of Laon, of which he was absolute Master, was lookt upon as one of the best Fortresses in the Kingdom, and she was willing to be assur'd of a Sanctuary. Jeoffrey became jealous of her complacencies for that Prelate, and therefore Blanche, to stifle the Count's Jealousie, engag'd

Lewis to go along with her, and spend some time in Provence; by which means she got rid of the importunate Bishop. In a short time after, she departed secretly, without giving Lewis any no∣tice, and hasten'd to meet Jeoffrey, according to an Assignation by her self appointed. King Lothaire was desirous to apply some remedy to a disorder of this nature, but it cost him his life; being poison'd by Blanche. Ancelin on the other side, finding himself deluded by the subtle Prin∣cess, quitted her, to pursue another Amour with Emma, the Mother of Lewis, who, tho' ad∣vanc'd in years, yet still preserv'd a fair stock of Beauty This Princess pretended to Govern the Kingdom, thô her Son was come to the Crown; But Lewis, by the counsel which Blanche gave him, caus'd her to be seiz'd, together, with her beloved Bishop, by Charles of Lorraine; nor could they obtain their liberty, thô earnestly su'd for by the Empresses Adelaida and Theopha∣nis, and all the Bishops of the Kingdom. For Lewis was so afraid of Blanche, that he durst not release 'em, because she would not have it so. However, he was but very ill repaid for his complacency: for Blanche poison'd hi••, as she had done his Father, and oblig'd him upon his Death▪ bed, to declare Hugh Capet his Suc∣cessor, upon condition he would marry her, as unchast as she was.

Almafrede, Mistress to Robert King of France.

CAPET had been too busily employ'd in Re∣forming the abuses of his kingdom, which had taken root in the Reigns of the Kings of the Se∣cond Race, and fecuring the possession of it, to mind Affairs of Love. But his Son Robert, who had not the same multiplicity of Business, de∣lightfully spent all the time he had to spare, among such Ladies as he thought worthy of his Addresses. He had in his Fathers life time made choice of Hugh de Beauvais for his Favourite. This young Lord one day, entrusted him with his Passion for Almafrede, the Daughter of the Count of Nogent. But he found her so agreea∣ble, that instead of promising to assist his Fa∣vourite in his design, he pray'd him to surren∣der his Mistress to himself. Hugh was somewhat difficult at first to resolve, but at length his Ambition prevail'd above his love. Moreover, he himself discover'd to Almafrede the Passion that Robert had for her, and serv'd his Master so well, that he had no reason to complain of Almafrede's Reluctancy. She admitted him by Night into her Chamber, and not being able to defend her self against his importunities, was brought to Bed of a Son, who was nam'd Amaury, from whom are descended the Counts

of Montfort. In the mean time▪ in regard the Matches of Princes are usually grounded upon Policy, notwithstanding all the engagements and tyes of Affection that had fasten'd Robert to Almafrede, he was constrain'd, in obedience to his Father's Commands, to espouse Constance the Daughter of William Count of Arles, and Sister of Foulke Nera, Count of Anjou. However, he conceal'd from that Princess, his first Engage∣ments, and abstain'd from any familiarity with Almafrede, so long as his Father liv'd. But so soon as he came to the Crown, he surceas'd to put that constraint upon himself, and to repay his Favourite for the Sacrifice he had made him of his Mistri••s, he made him Grand Master of his Houshold; and wholly rely'd upon him for the Government of his Kingdom. Yet did not Hugo's Business so entirely take him up, as to hinder him from sharing sometimes in his. Ma∣ster's Pleasures. They often went together to Nogent, to divertise themselves at Almafrede's Palace: whither it were, that the King had still the same tenderness for her, or that it was their Rendezvous, where they met other Ladies. How∣ever it were, the Queen being inform'd of these Assignations, turn'd all her Hatred against the Favourite, upon whom she look'd as the Author of this Disorder. Thereupon she sent a Trusty Officer to her Brother, to give him an account of the injuries done her, and to desire him that they might not go unreveng'd, Presently the Count of Anjou laid the Resentments of his Si∣ster so deeply to Heart, that he promis'd the

Messenger to fulfil her desires. With that, he gave his Commission to a dozen Gentlemen, whom he knew to be Men of resolution, and devoted to his ••nterests. He gave 'em Money and Horses, and sent 'em to King Robert's Court▪ where they saw the Queen privately, and agreed with her upon the means of being serviceable to her jealousie.

One day then, that the King had appointed a Hunting match with Hugo, to the end, that af∣terwards they might go and visit Almafrede, they follow'd the King at a distance, and when they saw him and his Favourite separate from their company, and take the Road to Nogem, they got before 'em, through by ways, and pou∣dring full Gallop upon Hugo, gave him several mortal Stabs before the King's Face, thô he made himself known to 'em, on purpose to stop their fury, out of that respect which was due to his Person: and when they had done, they threw themselves into a Forrest adjoyning, and soon became invisible. Several Months find away, be∣fore the King could discover the Authors of so dating an enterprize: but at 〈◊〉〈◊〉 he under∣stood that the Murder was committed by the Queens Order; and so far he was from shewing himself either griev'd or displeas'd at it, that he lov'd her the more ever after, and wholly fortook Almafrede, who out of despair, retired to a Convent, and veil'd her self. As for Foulque•• he underwent a severe Penance for having con∣tributed to the Homicide, being at Jerusalem, whither he accompany'd Godfrey of Benillon, and

others of the Croisado. For he caus'd himself to be drawn naked upon a Hurdle, with a Rope about his Neck, and to be whipp'd till the Blood came, crying out with a loud voice, Have mercy Lord, upon the treacherous and perjur'd Foulques.

Bertrade, Mistress to Philip.

* 1.18Foulques Rechin going to pay a visit to Amaney, Lord of Montfort, and condole with him upon the death of his Mother, fell in love with his Sister Bertrade. He left nothing omitted to procure her Affection, du∣ring the stay that he made at Montfort, and not being able to obtain any Favour from her, he resolv'd to marry her, thô he were already mar∣ry'd to Ermengard, the Daughter of Archambaut, Lord of Bourbon, and that he had a Son by her, who was afterwards call'd Jeoffrey Martell. To which effect, he caus'd his Marriage with Ermen∣gard to be declar'd null, under pretence of be∣ing near akin, and took Bertrade to Wife, by whom he had a Son that bore his Fathers Name, and who going to the Holy Land, was King of Jerusalem. In the mean time Foulques Rechin having had a Quarrel with his Brother Jeoffrey, about sharing the Succession of their Father Foulques Nera, the contest came to a Battle near Brochelac, where Jeoffrey was overthrown, and taken prisoner, but took his being detain'd in

Prison so hainously, that for meer vexation he run mad. Pope Gregory VII. being inform'd how hardly Foulques had us'd his Brother, and of the unlawfull Marriage which he had contracted with Bartrade, excommunicated him. Jeffery Martell, who by this time was arriv'd to years of matu∣rity, taking advantage of the excommunication thunder'd out against his Father, took Arms to revenge this Mothers Quarrel, and set his Uncle at liberty. Bertrade seeing her self so dangerou∣sly threatn'd by the ambitious Youth, who was already become the head of a potent party, sought which way to rid him out of the World, and caus'd him to be poyson'd. Pope Gregory being dead, Foulques sent Embassadors to Vrban VI. who succeeded him to obtain his absolution; offering to set his Brother at Liberty, and to quit Bertrade. Upon which, the Pope empow∣er'd Hugo Archbishop of Lion to take off the censure, provided the Count perform'd what he had promis'd.

In the mean time Phillip, coming to Tours, to give Foulques a visit, [year 1093] and settle affairs between 'em, in reference to the County of Ga∣tinois, which the Count had mortgag'd to him during the Wat with his Brother, saw Bertrade▪ who appear'd to him most charmingly beautiful notwithstanding those Clouds of sorrow that hung upon her countenance, because her Hus∣band was just going to put her away. The King therefore having engag'd her to entrust him with the cause of her grief, offer'd her his ser∣vice and promis'd to marry her, having under

pretence of consanguinity vacated his Marriage with Bertha, the Daughter of the Count of Frise, whom he had banish'd to Montrevil upon the Sea. Bertrade suffer'd her self to be surpriz'd with these alluring hopes, and consented to be con∣veigh'd away by force. The King thus satisfy'd, after he and Bertrade had consulted upon the ways and means which way to effect their designe, departed for Orleans, and left behind him at Tours a Gentleman, whose name was William Re∣chin, to put the project in execution. Bertrade and the Knight having conserted together how to manage the business, she her self went to hear Mass at St. Martin's, upon Easter-eve, and after she had sent away the persons that attended her upon several errands, slipt into a by Street where Rechin waited for her with two Horses. She made choice of that which went most easily, and being got a little way out of the City, they met with laid Horses fresh and fresh every six Leagues, and made such hast, that before Night they reach'd Orleans, where the King, who had notice of every thing, receiv'd 'em with those transports of joy that are hardly to be express'd. He car∣ry'd Bertrade to his Palace, and by a thousand caresses endeavour'd to alleviate the Fatigues of her journey. As for Foulques, he did not much trouble himself for the loss of his Wife, whom he lookt upon as an obstacle of his reconciliation with the holy See; and finding himself well stricken in years, he wholly gave off his debau∣chery. Some time after Philip publickly espous'd Bertrade, and caus'd her to be Crown'd with

extraordinary magnificence. He had two Sons by her, Philip, to whom he gave the Barony of Mang upon the L••ire, and whom he Marry'd to the Daughter of Gontier▪ Lord of Montbery; Hen∣ry, who was design'd for the Church, and a Daughter, named Cecilia, who was first marry'd to Tancrede, Son of the Sister of Bremond Prince of Antiochia; and after his death, to Ponce, the Son of Beritand, Count of Tiral in Stiria, des∣cended from the Counts of Thoulouse. However several Bishops who where present at the nuptials, to which they were invited according to the custom of the Kingdom, remonstrated to the King, that the Church could not approve a Marriage directly contrary to all the Canons, as well by reason of the proximity of Blood be∣tween him and Bertrade, as for that Bertha was still living as well as Count Foulques. But none of 'em took upon 'em to speak with more freedom then: Yves Bishop of Chartres; which exaspe∣rated the King to that degree, that he caus'd him to be apprehended. However, in a short time after he releas'd him again, at the sollicitation of the Clergy. Pope Vrban VI. being inform'd of these disorders, sent away on purpose a Le∣gat into France, who assembl'd a Council at Au∣••u••, where it was decreed, that Philip should be ex∣comunicated. But the Pope suspended the effect of the Decree till the next Year; and then he thun∣der'd out his Anathema's against the King in the Council of Clermont. The King terrifi'd with these censures, parted from Bertrade for some time; but he recall'd her shortly after, by the

consent of her Husband Foulques himself; over whom she had so powerfull an ascendant, that he sigh'd at her feet, like the most passionate of Lov∣ers. The Popes Legats perceiving that the King had renew••d his crminal familiarity, assembled another Councill at Portiers, where the Prince was excommunicated again. But Philip, over∣constant in his affections, set so many Engines at work in Rome, that the Pope sent other Legats to rehear the merits of the cause. They, to that purpose, assembled a Council at Bougency, where the two Lovers made their appearance, and promis'd to separate, till they had obtain'd a dispensation from his Holiness. Which at length was granted 'em, after long sollicitations, by Pope Paschat II. who was more indulgent then his pre∣decessors. The nuptials also being solemniz'd anew by virtue of that dispensation, the King and Bertrade went to pay Foulques a visit, who regal'd 'em at Angiers withal the divertisements that could be devis'd. Soon after Philip dying, Bertrade retir'd to Angiers to the Son of Foulques, who had also ended his days, and renouncing all manner of amorous courtship, apply'd her self to adorn the Castle of that City, and caus'd the Church of St. Maurice, which was gone very much to decay, to be repair'd. In a word, she employ'd the remainder of her days in acts of Piety, to make an attonement for the sins of her Youth.

Eleoner of Acquitaine, the Wife of Lewis the Young.

KING Lewis the Young, [year 1148] had mar∣ry'd Eleonor, the Daughter of Willi∣am V. Duke of Aquitaine; a Princess of surpassing beauty, of a lively and sparkling Wit, but wan∣ton in her humour and addicted to coquettry. The King, who as yet had not espy'd that de∣fect in her, lov'd her so tenderly, that he could not find in his Heart to leave her in France, when he undertook his expedition to the Holy-land, but engag'd her to be the companion of all his dangers. They embarqu'd together at Aigues-Mortes, and after several hardships, arriv'd at length at Antiossia, where Hugo Raymund, the Queen's Uncle, and Brother to Duke William, had obtain'd the Principality. He gave the King a most magnificent reception; and left nothing omitted to oblige him to make a stop there. He laid before him, the Noradin the Soldan of Damascus, made frequent incursions to the very gates of the City; and that 'twas greatly to be fear'd, that that same place, of so great im∣portance would fall into the hands of the Infi∣dels, if he were not powerfully assisted by His Majesty. But it was not only interest of State and Religion that prevail'd with Raymund, to wish that the Court of France might reside for

some time at Antioch. He had been bred up with Eleonor, and he was her Uncle, yet was he not much Older then she: ••and long fami∣liarity had bred and foster'd in both, a passion more tender then became two persons, so nearly related; neither had Raymund undertaken his voyage to Palestine; but to cure himself of his amorous passion, when he saw his Neice espous'd to the King of France. But the presence of the beloved object rekindl'd his first flames, and in regard he found the Queen as favourable to his desires, as she was at Bourdeaux, he could not find in his Heart to part with her, so suddenly. However all his, artifices prov'd fruitless; he could not detain the King but very few days at Antioch. Lewis therefore, impatient to be at Jerusalem, pursu'd his journey, notwithstanding all the reasons that could be alledg'd to him; neither was Eleonor so sorry as Raymund. For she was altogether for present objects, and for∣got the Prince of Antiochia, so soon as she had lost sight of him. She had several others that would not permit her to shed tears for his absence; and as she never repuls'd any one that sigh'd for Love of her, her Court was always well fill'd: but tho' in the Court of a Queen, yet because it was in a Camp among none but Soldiers, the discourse was generally Military; and the warlike atchievments of every day, produc'd sufficient matter for every days entertainment. Nor, did they forget their Enemies the Turks, whom were signal either for their Birth or Valor, so that 'twas impossible to pass in silence the no∣ble

qualities of Saladin, the Soldan of Damas∣cus's Nephew. 'Twas said of him, that he was a•• person well shap'd, nimble in all man∣ners of exercises, Valiant, Generous, Libe∣ral, Courtly; and in a word, that he was en∣du'd withal the French manners. There were also some who added, that he was descended from the Count of Ponthieu, whose Daughter be∣ing taken at Sea, was presented to the Soldan of Aleppo the Brother of Moradin, who receiv∣ing her into the number of his Wives, had this Prince by her. Now, thô' this story were a meer fable, yet it fail'd not to augment the curiosity which the Queen had for Saladin: she sought for opportunities; and for a beginning, to enter into a correspondence with him, she wrote to him in the behalf of Sandebrevil, Lord of Sauzay, who had been taken some days before by a party which that Mahometan Prince commanded. Sa∣ladin granted the Queen whatever she desir'd, and sent her back the Prisoner without Ransome, Eleonor had several conferences with Sandebre∣vil, on purpose to inform her self of several circumstances which she desir'd to know, con∣cerning the person of Saladin: She also made use of him to procure an interview between Sa∣ladin and her. To that purpose she appointed a Hunting match, about two Leagues from Je∣rusalem, where Saladin met her with thirty Horse-Men only. So soon as he saw the Queen appear, he left his Troop that had made a halt, and ad∣vancing an easie hand Gallop toward her, pre∣sently alighted to salute her: he made her a compli∣ment

in the Italian Tongue, which the Queen understood very well, and after such a manner, as nothing savour'd of the barbarity of the Na∣tion; nor was she less taken with his Wit, then with his deportment: She oblig'd him to mount his Course▪ and so they rode softly together into a Wood of Palm-trees close adjoyning, where they were a long time in discourse toge∣ther. Eleonor return'd him thanks in a most obliging manner, for what he had done for Sande∣brevil at her request, and pulling off an embroi∣der'd Scarf that serv'd her instead of a girdle, presented it to him, desiring him to keep it as a testimony of her esteem and acknowledgment; which Saladin afterwards wore upon all occasi∣ons of danger. But she was discover'd by some Courtiers, who gave an accompt of the whole story to the King, and others assur'd him that the Queen had given Saladin several other meetings. Now tho' there were more of vanity on both sides in this same courtly correspondence, the King was extreamly troubl'd at it, and would stay no longer at Jerusalem. So that after he had taken his leave of King Baldwin, he set Sail withal his Fleet; but was oblig'd to put in∣to Sicily to refit his Ships, which had been but ill handled by Manuel the Emperor of Constan∣tinople's Navy. 'Tis very probable, that the Queen had made her peace in that Island; for she grew bigg with Child, and lay in, upon her return into France, of a Daughter nam'd Alice, who was marry'd afterwards to Thibaut Count of Blois. But some time after she was brought

to Bed, the King being inform'd of all Eleonor's Galantries, resolv'd to vacate his Marriage. To which purpose he assembl'd the Clergy of France at Boisgency, where Alegrin his Chancellor set forth the reasons that mov'd the King to desire a separation, and easily obtain'd what his Master desir'd, because the Queen made no opposition. However Lewis, that he might come off with Honour, surrendred back to her the Dutchy of Aquitaine, and the Earldom of Peitou, which she brought him in Dowry, and only kept the two Daughters which He had by her.

Eleonor, after this Divorce, retir'd to Poitiers, where she was visited by Henry Duke of Nor∣mandy, the King of England's Son. Who thô he were a Prince, whose Person was no way in∣viting, and had the worst colour'd Hair in the world, yet she fail'd not to admit of his sedu∣lities, and to hearken to the proposals of Mar∣riage which he made her, because he was Heir presumptive to the Crown of England. Henry was well inform'd of all the disorders of her past life; but his eager desire to joyn Guyenne and Peitou, to the rest of those Dominions, which he was to inherit, prevail'd over all other Con∣siderations. He espous'd Eleonor; which so en∣rag'd Lewis, that he suffer'd no opportunity of Revenge to escape him. So that a War was kindl'd between the two Princes, so soon as Henry came to the Crown, which lasted till an end was put to it by the Marriage of Henry the King of England's eldest Son, with Margaret, the Daughter of Lewis, and Elisabeth of Castille, his

second Wife. And thô the affianc'd Princess were but five years of Age, she was put in∣to the hands of the King of England, for a far∣ther confirmation of the Alliance. When she came to be of age, proper for the consumma∣tion of the Nuptials, the King of England re∣fus'd to deliver her to his Son, for fear he should become too potent, and go about to dethrone him, with the assistance of France. Thereupon Henry, impatient to enjoy his youthful Spouse, that was to secure him his Succession to the Crown of England (the Princess being design'd to the Heir of the Kingdom) he stole her away, and fled into France to the King his Father-in law. From thence he wrote to his own Father, de∣manding England, or the Dutchy of Normandy, as an Earnest of his Succession: and upon the King's refusal, resolv'd to obtain his Pretensions by force of Arms. Queen Eleonor also engag'd Richard Duke of Aquitain, and Jeoffrey Duke of Bretagne, her Brothers, to take part with Henry: and Lewis oblig'd William, King of Scot∣land to invade England on that side, while he sent Robert Earl of Leicester with a powerful Ar∣my, to make a descent into the Island out of France. So that a Man would have thought that the King of England, assail'd on every side, must have been overwhelmed by so many Ene∣mies. But Heaven protected him. His Son Henry dy'd in a short time after, and Peace was concluded between England and France: and the Marriage of Richard, who was become Heir to the Crown by the death of Henry, with Alice

the Daughter of Lewis, was the Seal of that Union. But in regard the Princess was very young, she was put into the hands of the King of England, as her Sister had been, till she came to years of maturity; and Queen Eleonor was shut up in close imprisonment, to prevent her contriving new troubles at Court. In the mean time King Henry shew'd himself so extream∣ly complaisant to the Princess Alice, that it was look'd upon to be an effect of love; and the Prin∣cess answer'd him with a frankness, pardonable as her years: however, Richard grew jealous to that degree, that he could not find in his heart to marry her, when he came to the Crown. Queen Eleonor also, whom he set at liberty so soon as he saw himself seated upon the Throne, confirm'd him in his aversion, and negotiated a Match between him and Beranguelle, the Daugh∣ter of Don Garcias, King of Navarre, whom she carry'd to Richard then in Palestine, where he espous'd her. This anger'd Philip, surnam'd the August, King of France, who at the same time had made a voyage to the Holy Land; but he would not shew his resentment there, for the injury done his Sister, because he would not give the Infidels an opportunity to take advan∣tage of the division of the Christians. But so soon as he return'd into France, he enter'd the Territories of the King of England in revenge. At length Eleonor, after she had been the cause of many mischiefs in both Kingdoms, where she had worn the Crown, ended her days at Poitiers, in the Fourscore and fourth year of her age.

Mary of Moravia, Mistress to Philip, surnamed the August.

* 1.19PHILIP the August, after the death of Isabella of Hainault, his first Wife, marry'd Isembourg, or Eudelberge, the Daughter of Waldemar the Great, King of Den∣mark, but found so little pleasure in the enjoy∣ment of her, that after the first Night he never would Bed her again. However, he endeavour'd a long time to combat this aversion; but not being able to surmount it, he imparted the secret of his disgust to William, Bishop of Beauvais, who told him, that in regard there was a near affinity between him and the Queen, it would be no dif∣ficult thing for him to disannul the Marriage, if he would summon an Assembly of the Prelats of his Kingdom. The King relish'd this Proposal, and having sent for all the Bishops of France, and amongst the rest, for the Archbishop of Rheims, who presided in the Assembly, the sentence of Separation was pronounc'd. Some time before the King had seen the Portraicture of Mary Agnes, the Daughter of Bertol Duke of Moravis, which appear'd so charming to him, that he had always the Idea of her in his sight. Therefore, when he saw himself at liberty, he sent to de∣mand her in Marriage, and having obtain'd his desires, he espous'd her with a more then or∣dinary Magnificence.

* 1.20Isemburg would not be present at the Nuptial Ceremony, but secretly left the Court, with a design to retire into Denmark. But when she came to the Frontiers of France, she bethought her self of the fault she was about to commit, in abandoning the Justice of her Cause: she return'd back again, and shutting her self up in a Convent, sent an account of her mis∣fortune to King Conuie, her Brother. He, be∣ing astonish'd at Philip's inconstancy, sent to his Ambassador then residing in Rome, to make his complaints to Pope Celestin, and to demand Ju∣stice of him. Celestin immediately dispatch'd away two Cardinals, the one a Priest, and the other a Deacon, to make inquiry into what had past, in the dissolution of the Marriage, and to make use of all the Authority of the Holy See, to oblige the King to take Isemburg again, in case he had no lawful cause of separation. So soon as the two Legates arriv'd at Paris, they call'd together an Assembly of the Clergy, where∣in the Motives to the annulling the King's Mar∣riage with the Princess of Denmark, were strictly examin'd. But, tho' the Prelates assembl'd saw well, that the sentence of Separation that had been pronounc'd, was slight enough, yet they durst not attempt to revoke it, for fear of the King's Indignation. However, Pope Celestin be∣ing dead, Innocent III. his successor, at the so∣licitation of the Danish Ambassador, sent into France the Cardinal Sta Sabina, with order to make use of all the most effectual means to ob∣lige the King to a reconciliation with Isemburg.

When the Legate arriv'd, he assembl'd a Coun∣cil at Lyon, and cited the King,, together with all those that had pronounc'd the sentence of Separation, to make their appearance, but Philip, instead of appearing, sent a Herald, to Protest the Nullitie of whatever should be done to his prejudice, and to appeal as from an im∣proper Judge to the Pope, or the next Gene∣ral Council. But for all that, the Legate went on, and by advice of the Prelats assembl'd, Ex∣communicated the King, and Interdicted the whole Kingdom. Philip enrag'd at these vio∣lent Proceedings, caus'd the sentence of the As∣sembly to be declar'd void, by a Decree of his Parliament of Paris, upon the motion of the Advocate-General: and to punish the Bishops who had been so daring, as to deal so unwor∣thily by him, he seiz'd upon their Temporal∣ties. In the mean time, well understanding, that Isemburg had been the occasion of all these troubles, he sent her to the Castle of Estampes, with a prohibition not to stir from thence, up∣on pain of being declar'd Guilty of High Trea∣son.

Mary of Moravia, who was a Woman of great virtue, and very nice in her sentiments, was afraid that all Europe would look upon her, as the cause of the Divorce, in regard the King had so often given her in publick, such transcendent marks of his affection. She was desirous there∣fore to be gratefull, and willingly would have resign'd her own Life, to have appeas'd these troubles, provided that the King her Husband's

honour, might not be wounded by the accommo∣dation. She besought him therefore several times, that he would permit her to retire into a Con∣vent. But his passion for her was too violent to consent to such a separation, and he was too haughty to give his Enemies an occasion to think, that he submitted out of any sentiments of fear. But as it impossible for Princes long to conceal the most secret emotions of their Souls, the favourers of Isemburg had found out, that the violent pro∣ceeding of the Legat had not a little contri∣buted to exasperate Philip against any reconcilia∣tion, with that unfortunate Princess. Presently therefore they acquainted the Pope with the King's inclinations, who yielding to their reasons, sent into France two new Legats, Octavian Bishop of Ostia, and John Bishop of Velitri, with Orders to make use of gentler means. Those two Legats, after they had assembl'd another Council at Soissons, immediately took off the excommunication that had been thunder'd out against Philip. Mary likewise laid hold upon this opportunity, to beseech His Majesty to take Isembergh again, and she assail'd him with argu∣ments so pathetically moving and so judicious, that at length he consented. Thereupon he sent for Isemburgh to his Palace; but the more ge∣nerous Mary had appear'd to him, the more it griev'd him to have separated from her. So that after he had remain'd about forty days with Isemburg he sent her to a Monastery. The two Legats having notice of this so sudden and unex∣pected change, summon'd a new assembly to

meet at Soissons. Mary therefore afraid of the fresh troubles into which the King was about to precipitate himself, would return to him no more, and press'd him so earnestly, that she might have leave to retire, that at last with his consent, she betook her self to the Abby of Boissy. But it was not without an extream violence upon her self, that she took this resolution. She lov'd Philip sincerely, and it was meerly to procure him that repose, of which he was going to de∣prive himself for her sake, that she could prevail upon her self to loose him for ever. And the com∣bat she had in her mind, before she could obtain this victory over her self, reduc'd her to such a low condition of Health, that at length she sunk under the weight of her affliction, and dy'd within a Month after her retirement from Court. Just before her death, she wrote to Philip, be∣seeching him to take Isemburg again, and to live lovingly with her. The King, not able to re∣fuse her this complacency, at a time when she gave him such transcending marks of her Love, took Horse, and rode alone to the Convent, where Isemburg lay. He sent for her out of the Abby, and taking her up behind him, carry'd her back to his Palace, where he liv'd with her, after that, in perfect Conjugal society: nor did she die, till many years after, in the Reign of St. Lewis. The Pope was also so glad of this reconciliation, that to comfort Philip for the loss of Mary, he legitimated the two Children he had by her.

The Intreagues of the Court of France under the Reign of Philip the Fair.

PHILIP the Fair had Three Sons who reign'd successively after him; Lewis, whom he made King of Navarre in his life time, and who marry'd Margaret the Daughter of Robert Duke of Burgundy; Philip Count of Poitou, who marry'd Joan the Daughter of Otheliu, Count of Burgundy; and Charles de la marche, who mar∣ry'd Blanche, the Daughter of the same Count. These three Princesses were endow'd with all the Graces, both of Body and Mind; and being of a gay Humor, their Courts were always full. They drew to 'em all the young Persons of No∣ble Rank and Quality, and their usual divertise∣ment was Hunting, whither they went sometimes with the Princes their Husbands, but generally alone with the Officers of their Houshold, and such Ladies as were wont to be the companions of their Pastimes: more especially Philip, and Walter de Launoy, of whom the one was Squire to the King of Navarre, the other to the Count de la March, never left 'em upon these occasi∣ons. They might well be lookt upon for two of the most compleat and handsomest Lords in the Court, and they were persons of that brisk and lively Wit, that 'twas impossible to be tir'd with their Conversation. The two Prin∣cesses

Margaret and Blanche, so well lik'd their jolly Humours, that without stopping at Esteem, they proceeded even to Love. The two Lords, who had great experience in that Passion, and had met with very few hard-hearted Ladies, ea∣sily perceiv'd the progress they had made in the Hearts of those two Ladies: and the Conquest was so illustrious, that without reflecting upon the fatal consequences of Intreagues of that Nature, they thought of nothing so much, as to pursue and preserve it. They dextrously wrought upon the Princes to declare their Minds; and having drawn from their own Lips the important Secret, they engag'd 'em to facilitate the means to make 'em happy. Nor was it a difficult thing to gain the Usher of the Chamber, and the Princesses La∣dies of Honour, who introduc'd 'em into their Mi∣stresses Chambers, at a time when all the world was withdrawn to Rest. Every thing favour'd their desires. Their Mistresses were the first movers, and 'tis easie to guess, how easie it was to prosper in Rendevouzes of that nature. How∣ever, the Princesses afraid of being at last sur∣priz'd by their Husbands, begg'd leave of 'em to spend the Summer season at Maubuison, near Pontoise, where they admitted none but persons that were privy to the Intreague, and abandon'd themselves wholly to the pleasure of Loving, and being Belov'd. The two Lovers every night got over the walls of the Garden, and slipt in∣to the Chambers of Delight, without being seen of any body. 'Tis true, the Princesses had not imparted any thing of their Love to their Maids

of Honour, in regard, that being young, they mistrusted their discretion. Nevertheless, the secret, which it so much concern'd 'em to con∣ceal, was at length discover'd by her that was able to make the most mischievous use of it. Mademoiselle de Morfontaine, Maid of Honour to the Queen of Navarr, had been a long time intreagu'd with Philip de Launoy, who had also promis'd her Marriage; but being assur'd of her Mistress, he began to neglect her. Morfontaine perceiving his coldness, and imagining he was be∣come inamour'd of some, of her companions, re∣solv'd to watch him more narrowly, to the end she might find out her Rivalless. There was belonging to the Apartment of the Maids of Ho∣nour, a pair of Back-stairs that led into the Gar∣den. One Evening therefore she slipt down those Back stairs, and walk'd the Rounds, to see whether or no her perfidious AEneas did not go to visit some of her companions in the night time. Nor had she long stood Centinel, before she perceiv'd somebody jump over the Wall. She accoasted him softly, and thô the Moon did not shine, she knew, or else she fancy'd she knew him to be Launoy, whom she follow'd, without any noise to the Queen of Navarr's Apartment. Upon the sight of this, she stood as motionless as a Statue, and was sstill more embarrass'd then be∣fore, not being able to persuade her self, that he durst make his Addresses to a Person so far su∣periour to him. She saw the Maid of Honour open the door to him; and when he was enter'd, she listen'd, to try whether she could discover

what he was gone to do in that Apartment. 'Tis easie to guess at her surprize, when she under∣stood by the Queen of Navarr's expressions, that 'twas she her self whom Launoy sought for, and that he was belov'd. Presently her jealousie chang'd into fury, and infus'd into her nothing but desire of Revenge. But after the first trans∣ports of her Rage were over, when she sought, in cool blood, the ways to satisfie it, she found 'em encompass'd with a thousand dangers. 'Twas as much as her life was worth, to accuse her Mistriss, without convincing Proofs; and it was to be fear'd, that in taking measures to prove the Intreague, she might give her Mistriss an occasion to suspect her design, and expose her to the dire effects of her anger. She floated se∣veral days in this uncertainty, but finding her self at length with Child, she thought it her duty to sacrifice every thing to the revenge of her injur'd Honour. She had a Kinswoman, a Nun, at Maubuisson, whom she entrusted with the deplorable Estate to which she was reduc'd, and so well aggravated the honor of the crime, which the two Lovers committed, in propha∣ning the place that enclos'd the Spouses of Jesus Christ, that she engag'd the Nun to assist her in surprizing the impious Couple together. And they took their measures so truly, that the two Launoy's were surpriz'd in Bed with the two Princesses, and were stopt in the Convent till the King was inform'd of it. They were both sent to prison, and upon their impeachment in Parliament, their crime being sufficiently prov'd,

they were both condemn'd to be Flea'd alive, to have their guilty Members cut off, to be ty'd to the Tails of two wild Horses, and in that condition to be dragg'd through a new mow'd Meadow. The two Princesses were shut up in Castle Gaillard, where the King of Navarr caus'd his Wife, in a short time after, to be strangl'd with a Sheet. The Countess of March obtain'd her liberty, after the Prince her Husband had dissolv'd the Marriage, under pretence that he was the Godson of Mand of Artois, the Mo∣ther of that Princess. The Usher of the Queen of Navarr's Chamber, who was privy to the In∣treague, was hang'd. The Countess of Poitou was also apprehended, but in regard, there was nothing material prov'd against her, the Prince her Husband went himself to fetch her out of prison, and by 3 thousand Caresses en∣deavour'd to make her amends for the Affront she had receiv'd. As for Morfontaine, after she had thus fully satisfy'd her Revenge, she was tor∣mented with most cruel remorses of Conscience, that ne'er would suffer her to rest, either day or night. Every Minute she thought she saw be∣fore her Eyes her Lover in the same deplora∣ble condition, wherein he lay, under the tortures of the Hangman; and after she had languish'd in misery for above a year, she ended her days, detesting, with a sincere repentance, the disor∣ders of her past Life.

The Intreagues of the Court of France, under the Reign of Charles VI.

[year 1339] CHARLES VI. who fell mad dur∣ing the journey that he made into Flanders, having recover'd his health, gave order for a sumptuous Ball, which was danc'd at Queen Blanche's Palace in the Fauxbourg St. Marcell upon occasion of the Nuptials of one of that Prin∣cesses Maids of Honour. The King would make one of the number, and danc'd an entry of Sa∣vages with five Lords of the Court, who were ty'd together with Ropes of Silk. The King as he was dancing, accoasted the Duchess of Berry, whom he caress'd with somewhat a more then ordinary freedom, at what time his Brother en∣tering the room, and being over curious to know who that person was, in Masquerade, so fami∣liar with the Countess, drew near with his Flam∣beau, and set Fire to the Habit of one of the Savages. The flame immediately ran from one to the other, so that in an instant, they were all in a blaze. Charles of Poitiers, Count of Va∣lentinois, and Hongrinant de Jansay, di'd upon the spot. The Count of Nantouillet ran to the Cupboard, and throwing himself into a Charger full of Water, quench'd the Fire that surrounded him. The Count Jony, and Yves de Foix di'd after they had lain for two days together in a

languishing condition: But the Duchess of Berry, knowing the King, threw the skirt of her Gown over him, and sav'd him by that means. Dureing the confusion which this accident had oc∣casion'd in the assembly, the Duke of Orleans found himself near a Lady who was ready to be stifl'd in the croud: he took care of her, and put her into the hands of one of his Gentlemen, who threw Water in her Face, and after he had fetch'd her again from the swoon into which she was fallen, carry'd her home to his own house. Some few days after, the Duke calling the Lady to mind, ask'd his Gentleman what was become of her, and understood that she was the Wife of Raoulet d'Auteville, who had been Treasu∣rer of France, upon the recommendation of Philip Duke of Burgundy. With that he remem∣ber'd that he had been the occasion of displacing him from his employment, for several misdea∣meanors, and believ'd, that the little service he had done his Wife would not countervail to ex∣tinguish that aversion, which without question, she had for him. Nevertheless in these contra∣rieties it is, that Love takes delight to shew his capricious humours, as the Duke soon after found by experience. For one day that he was at Mass in St. Pauls Church, he there observ'd the fame Lady, who as she pass'd by, saluted him with an obliging smile. The Duke was too much a Cour∣tier to be ignorant what that meant; and he was too great a Lover of adventures, to fall of the opportunity of making the best of 'em. There∣upon he sent a Page to delite Madam d'Auteville

to meet him in the Evening in the Garden of the Palais des Touruelles, where he should be glad to speak with her, and the Lady accepting the As∣signation, fail'd not to meet him at the time ap∣pointed. And then it was, that in her melting Breast, the Duke soon met with sentiments far opposite to those of that same hatred, with which he thought her prepossess'd against him, and en∣gag'd her without much trouble, to come to him to his Palace the next Morning. Nor did she fail of being punctual to her hour, and being in∣troduc'd into the Princes Chamber by a back pair of stairs, she gave him no cause to complain of her cruelty. This visit was attended by se∣veral others, by means of which, the Duke of Orleans understood, that she was very intimate with the Duchess of Burgundy, and that she had understood by her discourses, that 'twas none of her fault, if he were not belov'd by her. The Duke open'd his Ears to this Proposal: For be∣sides, that the Princess had charms sufficient to inflame his amorous desires, she might prove ad∣vantageous to him in the rearing of his Fortune, by drawing from her Lips the secrets of the Duke her Husband, who was declar'd Regent of the Kingdom during the King's distemper, and with whom he thought he had a right to dis∣pute the Government of the Realm. He there∣fore left Madam de Auteville to manage the in∣treague, who carry'd it on with so much address, that in a short time she accomplish'd his desires.

[year 1406] This Intreague lasted several Years, and was carry'd with that privacy, that no

body had the least inkling of it; but at length it was discover'd through the imprudence of the Duke himself. For he had hung up in his Ca∣binet the Portraitures of all his Mistresses, and he was wont to say, that all those whose pictures were there to be seen, had never been cruel to him. The Duke of Burgundy likewise, had of∣ten heard him say the same thing, tho' he never minded it at first. But one day coming into that fatal Cabinet, he there beheld his Wife's picture, and then calling to mind the Dukes unlucky ral∣lery, it gave him no small disturbance. There∣upon he resov'd to be satisfy'd in his suspitions, and at last discover'd, that the Duke had frequent meetings with his Wife by the means of Madam d' Autevil1e, whom she had made her confident: but then the jealousie of Love joyning Forces with the jealousie of hatred, he thought it be∣hov'd him to be reveng'd upon a Prince, who was doubly his Rival. To this purpose he dis∣cover'd his design to d' Auteville, who having a share in the affront, was easily induc'd to have a part in the revenge, and promis'd to serve the Duke according to his intentions. Next Morn∣ing therefore the pr••fligate undertaker, corrup∣ted several Ruffians, needing only the temptati∣on of Money▪ and among others, William and Thomas Courtois, and John de la Mothe, who pro∣mis'd him upon their words to second his per∣nicious design, to the utmost of their power. He also gain'd one of the King's Valet's de Cham∣bre, who was sent to tell the Duke of Orleans, at that time gone to the Palais de Tournelles, to

visit the Queen, it being St. Cecilia's day in the Evening, that the King desir'd to speake with him, at the Hostel de St. Paul. Immediately the Duke got a Horseback attended only by some of his Lacqueys without any weapons, and one that carry'd a Flambeau before him. But when he came to the gate Barbette, before the house of Marshal d' Eurex, out comes d' Auteville from a Tavern, where he waited the Dukes coming with about fifteen or twenty of his accomplices, and flew upon him with his drawn sword; and having cut off his Bridle hand, threw him off his Horse, and deliver'd him to the rest of his Confederates, who stab'd him in several places. When they had done, they set fire to a house adjoyning, on purpose to amuse the People, and made their escapes through by Lanes and Alleys. The Duke was carry'd into the Marshal de Fires house, where he expir'd; and thence to the Be∣nedictin's Convent. The Parliament took cog∣nisance of this Murder, and order'd a Councel∣lor to take the Informations. He presently is∣su'd forth a Warrant against the squire of the Duke of Burgundy's Kitchin, who was charg'd by the witnesses; and in regard, he never stir'd out of the Hostel d' Artois, where the Duke lodg'd, and whence they could not fetch him out by force without his Masters permission, the Councellor who had took the Information, went to demand him of the Duke at the Hostel de Nesle; where the Duke of Berry lay, and where the Council was kept. Louis de Anjon, King of Sierly, being then present, when the Councellor made his com∣pliment

to the Duke of Burgundy, took notice that he turn'd pale, and that a sudden disturbance seiz'd upon his mind. Upon which he drew him aside, and having made him confess, that the Duke of Orleans had been assasinated by his or∣der, he advis'd him to retire. The Duke took his advice, and departing the Hostel de Nesle without any noise, went home, took horse, and never stop'd till he came to D••jon. However, he could not escape the punishment that Heaven had prepar'd for him.

The Dauphin resolv'd to revenge the Death of the Duke of Orleans, [year 1419] and con∣tended for the regency during his Fathers sick∣ness. On the otherside, the Duke of Burgundy enter'd into a League with the King of England, and France was in a strange combustion. Per∣sons of high quality interpos'd to accommodate the difference, and the Duke was sollicited to do homage for the Dukedom of Burgundy. He felt strange combats in his brea••t, and struggl'd with more then one single passion upon this accompt, and before he would positively determin, he would needs take advice of Madam de Gyac, with whom he had a long time had an Intreague. That Lady, who was still young and handsome, did not suit with the Kings age, who was already going down the hill of his years, and would wil∣lingly have been reconcil'd to the Court, in hopes of smiting the Dauphin in the Eye, for whom she felt some kind of amorous inclination, and with that design, she advis'd the Duke to do what was demanded from him. The place ap∣pointed

for the Ceremony, was Monterault, where a large room of hoards was erected upon the Bridge, with three bars that were let down, as the Duke pass'd forward. But when he was upon his knees, in order to do his homage, a pretence was taken from hence, that he laid his hand upon the hilt of his Sword; upon which, Tonnequi du Chastel, who stood next the Dauphin, fell'd the Duke, with a blow upon his Chin with his bat∣tle ax, and the rest of the Courtiers compleated the Murder. However his death was reveng'd by his Children, who introduc'd the English in∣to France; nor had the Dauphin, who in a short time after came to the Crown, by the name of Charles VII. sav'd the Kingdome, but by a parti∣cular assistance that Heaven miraculously sent him.

The Intreagues of the Court of France, under the Reign of Charles VII.

[year 1424] JAQƲELINE of Haynault, Coun∣tess of Holland, had espous'd for her first Husband, John, Dauphin of France, the Son of Charles VI. and after his death was marry'd to John of Burgundy, the Son of Anthony Duke of Brabant his cousin. He was a Prince both old and gouty, who avoided the World, and sought retirement only. Jaqueline, was quite of ano∣ther humour, and could not find in her heart to shut her self up in the Country with her Hus∣band. However she was bound to obedience,

and was constrain'd to consine her self with him in a Castle, whither he had withdrawn himself from the hurry of business. Nor had she any other consolation, then to bemoan in private with her Women, the fantastick humour of her Husband. Her Maid of honour had formerly made a voyage into England, attending at that time upon Katherine of France, who had mar∣ry'd Henry V. and she was return'd with all the Officers of the Houshold of that Princess, whom the King her Husband had sent back, some Months after. Now tho' that Lady had made but a short stay in London, nevertheless she had seen all the magnificence of that Court, of which she made so pleasing a description to her Mistress, that she infus'd into her a desire to cross the Sea's, and taste her share of the plea∣sures which that Court afforded. The Lady also spoke to her so advantagiously of Humphrey Duke of Glocester, the King's Brother, that she caus'd her to conceive an esteem for that Prince, which did not a little disquiet her repose. She desir'd also to see his Picture, and open'd her mind to her Maid of Ho∣nour, who found a way to satisfy her curiosity. And the Portraicture, and the Persuasions of her Woman, increas'd her Chimerical Passion to that degree, that she resolv'd to cross over into England. She imparted her design to none but such Officers, whom she could not avoid entrust∣ing with her Secret, and having made choice of a day for her departure, she got a Horse-back with a small Train, carrying all her Jewels along

with her. She got to Dunkirke, whence she embark'd for Dover, and so for London. She was well receiv'd by the King of England, and better by the Duke of Gloucester, who had been inform'd how much he was concern'd in the voy∣age which she had undertaken. And he knew so well how to make the best of her preventing him, that he oblig'd her to yield her fell up to him, upon the faith of a Marriage, which she could not contract, in regard she had a Husband living. But the King of England's complacency in indulging her idle Passion, had like to have broken the good correspondence between him and the Duke of Burgundy, Cousin to the Duke of Brabant his kinsman; but reason af State pre∣vail'd above that frivilous Disgust. Sometime after, John of Bavaria, Duke of Luxembourg, Governor of the Counties of Holland and Zea∣land, ordain'd his Heir Philip Duke of Burgundy, his Sisters Son, without making any mention in his Will of Jaqueline, his Neece by the Father's side; which oblig'd her to return into Haynault, where the Duke of Gloucester would needs, accom∣pany her. She was receiv'd by her Subjects with extraordinary Magnificence, notwithstanding the opposition of the Counts of Conversano and Anguien, who sided with the Duke of Brabant. The Duke of Gloucester also endeavour'd to make himself Master of such places as he pretended were fall'n to Jaqueline, by the death of the Duke of Luxembourg. But he was constrain'd to quit his enterprize, and her whole Rights he maintain'd, because Pope Martin V. threaten'd

him with Ecclesiastical Censures if he did not re∣store the Duke of Brabant his disloyal Wife. The Duke obey'd without any reluctance, and was glad of that pretence to abandon Jaqueline, that she might not perceive he was become un∣faithful, and paid his Vows to another Shrine. For Jaqueline had taken along with her into Hay∣nault an English Lady, who was call'd Madam Shelton; and the Duke was soon aware of the advantage which that Lady had over her Mi∣stress, as well for the Graces of her Body, as for the fineness of her Wit, and delicacy of her Sentiments. Nor could he withstand so ma∣ny charms, and finding they concurr'd with his Sedulities, he was glad to find himself at liberty, that he might follow his own inclinations. He therefore left the Dutchess at Mons, and re∣turn'd into England, where he marry'd Madam Shelton. But the Duke of Gloucester's infidelity was not the only thing which troubl'd the Dutchess; she fear'd the effects of her Hus∣band's just resentment; and she imagin'd every moment, that she saw him invading her Terri∣tories with an armed Force. But the death of the Duke deliver'd her from these Fears▪ news being brought her in the midst of her disturban∣bances, that a Feaver which seaz'd him at Brus∣sels, had put an end both to his Life and his Jea∣lousies.

Réne de Anjou Duke of Barr, having had a contest with the Count of Vandemo••; who should succeed to Charles Duke of Lorrain, they dispu∣ted their Right by dint of Arms. The Count

had recourse to the Duke of Burgundy, a sworn Enemy to the House of Anjou, who assisted him with Men and Money; and after he had obtain'd that reinforcement, he march'd to find out his Enemy, meeting him in the Plain of Bullenville, near Neuchatel in Lorrain, he gave him Battle, defeated his Army, and took him prisoner. Nor could the Duke obtain his liberty, till the death of Joan, Queen of Sicily, call'd him to the suc∣cession of that ••ingdom. Isabell of Lorraine, his Wife, Niece to Mary of Anjou Queen of France, us'd all her Credit to mollifie the Count, and perswade him to deliver her Husband. To which purpose she address'd her self to Charles VII. at Vienne, in the Dauphinate, beseeching him to make use of his Authority, with the Duke, to oblige him to gratifie her Request. The King, who was naturally prone to Acts of kindness, comply'd with the Dutchess, and was desirous to serve her: but the cruel Wars, which he had at that time with the English, so busily employ'd his time and thoughts, that the Dutchess would have receiv'd but little satisfa∣ction from him, had not another motive more pressing then that of Generosity, spurr'd him forward. The Dutchess had brought along with her Agnes Forelle, who was one of her Maids of Honour: and the King being charm'd with her Beauty, engag'd himself to serve the Duke of Barr to the utmost of his Power; and in short, he did oblige the Count to set him at liberty. Agnes acknowledg'd the King's Favour, with all Respect that was due to his Person, and shew'd

him all the complacency that became her Mo∣desty. And now the Duchess having done her business, prepar'd for her voyage into Sicily with the King her Husband; and according to all out∣ward appearnces, Agnes was to have waited upon her. But the King, that he might oblige her to a∣bide at Court, made use of Merlin the famous A∣strologer. One day that Charles was alone with Agnes, Merlin enter'd the Room; at what time the King, as had been concerted between 'em, ask'd him what he thought of the Fortune of that fair Lady. Sir, reply'd Merlin, either there is no Truth in the Stars, or else she will be the Mistress of some Great King. Agnes, who presently perceiv'd the Artifice, made an∣swer with a smile, If it be so, Sir, I beseech, your Majesty to give me leave to cross over in∣to England, to the end my destiny may be ac∣complish'd: there being no likelyhood that the Prediction concerns your Majesty, who have hardly a Third part of your Kingdom left ye. Charles understood Raillerie, and joak'd with Agnes upon her Repartee: but he made his ad∣vantage of it however. And 'tis said, that his eager desire to render himself worthy the Af∣fections of that Virgin, exalted his Courage to perform those noble Atchievements afterwards, that made his Reign so Illustrious. Agnes, tho' she had treated him like a King, despoil'd of his Dominions, yet could she not chuse but applaud her self for the conquest she had made of his Heart, which she was no less covetous of preserving to her self; and therefore was as wil∣ling

as he, to second the means of which he had bethought himself to stop her journey. She feign'd her self sick, and the King's Physitians that visited her, confirm'd it, by the King's Or∣der, and gave it for their Opinion, that she could not travel without endangering her Life; the Queen also promising the Duchess to take par∣ticular care of her, and to send her after her, so soon as she had recover'd her health. Now, tho' the Dutchess well knew, that Agnes was not so sick as she made her self, and that she suspect∣ed the best part of the Truth, she took little no∣tice of it, believing that if the Queen, who had most reason to concern her self, were so free to give her consent, 'twas not for her to make any opposition. After she was gone, Agnes grew better and better every day, and soon after quit∣ted her bed of Sickness. And then she appear'd at Court with new Charms, and the King's Passi∣on for her, became so strong, that he heap'd upon her new Favours every day. He gave her the County of Ponthieure, and finding her to be a Woman of a solid Judgment, he consulted her in Affairs of the greatest importance, and she was the Conduit-pipe through which he con∣vey'd all his Favours. All the Court look'd up∣on the King's kindness to her with Envy; but more especially the Dauphin, who being already of age sufficient to have a share in the Govern∣ment, stomach'd to see that his Father impart∣ed none of his designs to him. Thô Agnes let no occasion of doing him good offices escape her, he look'd upon all Kindnesses, all Favours,

which he receiv'd upon her recommendation, as so many empoison'd Presents. Therefore he made it his continual study, by what means he could, to destroy her in the King's Affection: amd in regrrd there was no way to do it, but by representing her disloyal to the King's Bed, he made it his business to put a Gallant upon her, who, as he was sufficiently devoted to his Inte∣rests, so he had merit enough to kindle the King's jealousie. To this purpose he cast his eyes upon Chabane, the Count of Dammartin, who, of all the Persons at Court, was the most accomplish'd for Beauty and Parts, and broke the proposal to him. The Count trembl'd at the first overture that was made him, and told the Prince, that thô he ow'd him all the servi∣ces that lay in his power, he could not resolve to engage in an affair, which would infallibly draw upon him his ruine; whether the King thought his Passion sincere, or whether he sus∣pected that his love for Agnes was but counter∣feited, on purpose to undoe her. The Dau∣phin encourag'd him, and told him, that so far from running any hazard, he would rather pre∣serve the King's Favour, by sacrificing his pre∣tended Passion, in giving him an account of all the marks of tenderness which he had receiv'd from the Countess of Ponthieure, and promising ne∣ver to visit her more. Chabane, over-rul'd by the Dauphin's Reasons, apply'd himself wholly to the business, and made it his study to bring about his de∣sign. He had a Valet de chamber, a crafty nimble youngster, nam'd St. Colombe▪ whom he entrusted

with the false shew of his Love for the Countess, and engag'd him to court Mortaigne, who of all her Waiting Women, was the person in whom she put the greatest confidence. St. Columbe was easily perswaded to undertake the business, and in regard he was very handsome, he found little resistance in Mortaigne's tender Heart, who quick∣ly gave him all the most particular marks of her Affection. When St. Columbe had obtain'd his desires, he insinuated into his Mistriss, that it would be more easie for 'em to continue their amorous Commerce, if she could engage the Countess in an intreague with Chabane. Mortaigne approv'd her Lovers advice; and from that ve∣ry Evening she labour'd to bring it about. Be∣ing alone with her Mistriss when she was going to Bed, she began to talk of all the Lords of the Court, and after she had given her opinion of every one, she nam'd to her, after a careless man∣ner, the Count of Dammartin. Upon the hearing of that name only, the Ladies countenance chang'd, and she shew'd such an aversion for him, that Mortaigne durst nor speak a word more. However, she gave an account to her Lover, who made his report to his Master, without con∣cealing the least circumstance. Chabane revolving in his Mind the Countesses behaviour, to see whe∣ther the Countess had any reason to hate him, and being convinc'd that he had never done any thing to displease her, he Divin'd the Truth, and rightly Judg'd, that those marks of aversion were only an effect of the Indignation of that lovely Lady, that he was the only person at

Court, who had withstood the power of her Charms, and that he had never answer'd those passionate glances, which she had cast upon him in vain. He examin'd with himself, what course he ought to take, and thought, it the safest way to engage the Countess to make the first steps. He gave her to understand, that he understood the Language of the Eyes; but at the same time he avoided all occasions of speaking to her. But the Countess was still more offended, when she perceiv'd that he had div'd into the Sentiments of her Heart, yet never stirr'd a foot to make any advantage of her favourable Inclinations. She therefore lookt upon it as a point of Honour to make him sensible, and meeting him one day in a dark passage, that led from her Apartment to the King's, at what time he pass'd on with∣out making any stop; Am I so terrible, Count, said she, that you should fly me thus? More then you can imagine, Madam, reply'd Chabane: a Lady so beautiful as your self is enough to make the most undaunted courage tremble. Is it then so great a mischief to love me, reply'd the Countess? Yes, Madam, reply'd Chabane, when a Man can never hope to be happy, with∣out betraying his Master. You are very nice for a Courtier, added the Countess; but we know how to cure your scruples. She said no more, but after she had spoken these words, past on, afraid of being surpriz'd in a Conver∣sation, which the nature of the place would have render'd suspitious. Chabane stood there for some time, ruminating upon this Adventure;

for he would have willingly serv'd the Dauphin, but he could not find in his heart, to betray a person that had appear'd so amiable to him. Nevertheless, his Love prevail'd above his Am∣bition, and he resolv'd to think of nothing but making himself happy, and preserving so good a fortune. He saw his Affairs in so fair a way, that there wanted nothing toward obtaining all that he could desire, but to be alone with the Countess, and to that purpose, he address'd him∣self to Mortaigne. He told her that he found himself very unhappy, to have drawn upon him∣self the hatred of her Mistress, thô he knew not which way he had deserv'd so great a misfor∣tune, but that he was resolv'd to know the rea∣son of it from her own Lips, or to kill himself before her Face; and therefore begg'd of her to give him an opportunity to discourse the Countess alone. Mortaigne excus'd her self at first, and told him, that knowing so well as she did, her Mistresses Mind, she must expect the utmost of her Mistresses indignation, should she contribute to an interview of that nature. But the Count, who knew well enough, that Agnes would not be so much offended at the sight of him, as Mortaign imagin'd, could have easily dis-abus'd her, durst he have discover'd a secret which the Countess had conceal'd from her, for fear of being accus'd of indiscretion. There∣fore he made use of another Fetch to encourage her, and gave her to understand, that she might easily do him such a piece of service, without appearing in the least to have contributed to∣ward

it. These reasons, and a rich Diamond Ring which he put upon Mortaignes Finger to∣tally defeated her. She promis'd to introduce him into a Wardrobe of which she had the key, from whence he might slip into the Countesses Chamber, so soon as she had left her. And this expedient prosper'd. Agnes was surpriz'd to see Chabane, so late in her apartment: but at length, seeing 'twas so, she thought it became her to make the best of the opportunity; and without spending time in useless contests, she knew better, then to wast those minutes that Love makes pretious.

This intreague lasted a long time, without be∣ing discover'd, there being nothing to interrupt it, but the importunities of the Dauphin, who press'd Chabane to give him an opportunity, to let the King see that his Mistress was disloyal to him. Chabane excus'd himself, and deny'd his being in a capacity to serve him, under several protences; which tho' they were accompani'd with a great deal of probability, yet the Prince who was not to be baffl'd suspected that Cha∣bane did not deal fairly by him. Therefore to find out the truth▪ he engag'd the Dauphiness to enter in a strict society with the Countess, and to admit her into all her sports and Matches that she made. On the othersule, Chabane, that he might not be known, was introduc'd into his Mistresses's chamber in Liveries, sometimes of one colour, sometimes of another, feigning to carry some message. One Evening that he went thither in the Dauphinesses Livery, the King and

the Dauphin enter'd; and in regard there was no light in the chamber, the Count stole out again, without being seen. However the Coun∣tess afraid lest the shadow of her Lover might have been perceiv'd, to remove all suspition from the King, told him that the Dauphiness had sent her Lacquey to give notice of a match that she had made against the next day. But the Young Prince was too cunning to fall into such a snare; he rightly judg'd, it was not for nothing that the Countess had no light in her Chamber, and made no question but the Lac∣quey was some Lover in disguise. Nevertheless for his better satisfaction, so soon as he return'd to his apartment, he ask'd the Dauphiness, what message she had sent to the Countess, and under∣stood from her own Lips, that she had sent no body to her, of any errand at all.

Now, tho' the Dauphin were convinc'd of the truth, by all these circumstances, these were not proofs sufficient to disabuse the King, who was absolutely convinc'd of the Loyalty of his Mistress: and therefore, there was a necessity of surprizing her a Bed with Chabane. To which purpose, he gave order to one of the Scotch Guards, to have a vigilant Eye upon the actions of the two Lovers. The Souldier acquitted him∣self with extraordinary exactness, and came one Evening to inform the Dauphine, that Chabane was gone into the Countesses lodging, in the habit of a Lace-Merchant. Immediately the Dauphin posted to her apartment, but discover'd nothing, in regard the Countess had hid her Lover upon

the first noise that she heard. Upon the Dau∣phines visit, Chabane thought he was betray'd, and therefore gave order to St. Columbre, to ob∣serve whither any body watch'd him. Who so faithfully discharg'd his duty, that they found the Souldier upon the watch at the entrance in∣to the Countesses apartment, and presently gave Chabane notice of it; who for that reason for∣bore meeting his Mistress that Night, for fear of being surpriz'd, and rightly judging, that it would be impossible to continue his amorous com∣merce, unless he could get rid of the spy that was set to watch him, order'd St. Co••••••••e to have him assassinated. Thereupon St. Columbe riggl'd himself into the acquaintance of the Scotch Soldier, and having carry'd him to a Ta∣vern, after they had done drinking, led him through a blind street, where he had posted half a dozen desperate Raskels, that fell upon him, and laid him dead upon the pavement. One of the Duke of Tremovilles Lacqueys, who was a kin to the Scotch Soldier, seeing him attack'd, went to call some of his comrades, and came to his rescue, but too late; for the business was done, and the Murderers were dispers'd. How∣ever, in regard that several persons in the Duke of Tremouilles Livery were seen about the body, the Duke himself was accus'd to have been the author of the Assasination. The Dauphin was the only person that would not be surpriz'd by these appearances, as guessing right, that the Murther was committed by the order of Chabane. Nevertheless he would not take any notice of it

to any body, least the fear of danger should dis∣hearten those that he design'd to employ in the farther espial of these secret rendez∣vouses, to serve him according to his desires. Therefore he said no more, but set other spies to work, and caus'd the Countess to be so narrow∣ly watch'd, that word was brought him that Ch••bane was enter'd her Chamber in the disguise of a Stationer, with a great bundle of Books under his Arm. Immediately he went to inform the King. What said he merrily, I hope 'tis not la Trimo••••le, but tho' the Dauphin knew well enoug••, 'twas Chabane, he answer'd his Father, that he could not tell who it was, but that his Majesty would be soon satisfi'd. The Dauphin also had order'd all the Avenues to be so well guarded, that it was impossible for the Count of Dammartin to escape. But the Countess hav∣ing timely notice by Mortaigne, who kept diligent watch and ward, lockt him up in a Closet by the side of the Bed, which the King had never observ'd, as being cover'd with the Hangings. So that the King found his Mistress a Bed; and while he was ex∣aming the Books that lay by her, the Dauphin askt her between jest and earnest, what was be∣come of the Bookseller that sold her the Books? To whom the Countess with a countenance no way concern'd, made answer, that he was gone, but that he could not be out of call, if his High∣ness had any thing to say to him. The Dauphin took a Flambeau himself, and finding nothing, after he had sought all about, retir'd without

saying a word, full of vexation and shame, for the ill success of his enterprize. The King on the otherside, made a thousand excuses to the Countess, and the better to make his peace, would needs lye with her that night. Nor durst the Countess give him the least denyal, tho' she was sure to spend the night in a strange inter∣mixture of pleasure and disquiet. Nor was Cha∣bane in a better condition; he was so near the Bed that he durst not breath; and which was worse, he was forc'd to lye patient, while his own Ears told him, that another was enjoying those pleasures which were ap∣pointed for himself. But at length the King rose and left him at liberty, to make himself amends for his past sufferings. The Countess who lookt upon the Dauphin as the Author of all her vex∣ations, no longer had the patience, to carry fair with him as she had done before. They had frequent quarrels together, and one day such was the heat of passion on both sides, that the Dau∣phin gave her a whirret o'the Ear. Of which she made her complaints to the King, but not re∣ceiving that satisfaction which she expected, despite and vexation threw her into a languish∣ing disease, of which she died in six weeks after, and was buri'd in the Collegiate Church. She had two Daughters by the King; Charlote, mar∣ry'd Lewis de Brezè, Seneschal of Normandy, who surprizing her in the act of Adultery, stabd' her to death; and Mary who espous'd Oliver de Coitiny, Lord of Rochefort.

* 1.21After the Death of the Countess of Ponthieure, the King engag'd with Ma∣dam de Villequiers her Neice, a Lady no less charm∣ing then she, and who inherited her hatred of the Dauphin, and perswaded Charles, that the Dauphin had caus'd her Ant to be poyson'd. On the otherside, the Dauphin employ'd all the inventions of a crafty wit, to set the King at variance with Madam de Villequiers, but not being able to accomplish his design, he with∣drew into the Dauphinate, whither all the male∣contents resorted to him by his own incourage∣ment. The King after he had made use of all gentle means to reduce him to his duty, com∣manded Chabane to march against him, and to ap∣prehend his person; of which the Dauphin hav∣ing intelligence, left Grenoble privately, and re∣tir'd to the Duke of Burgundy. The King see∣ing his Son in the hands of his mortal Enemy, began to mistrust every body that came near him, and imagining every moment that there was a design to poyson him, continu'd without eat∣ing eight days together, and weakn'd his natu∣ral heat by that long abstinence in such a man∣ner, that afterwards when he came to eat again, 'twas impossible for him to digest his nourishment, which brought him to his Grave. Such was the tragical end of the Amours of this Prince.

The Intreagues of the Court of France, under the Reign of Lewis XI.

* 1.22LEWIS XI. who had always great designs, sent the Cardinal d'Al∣bret into Spain, to negotiate a marriage between the Duke of Guienne his Brother, with Isabell of Castile, the Sister of Henry IV. and presumptive heir of that Kingdom. But that Princess rather chose to unite Castille to Aragon, by the marri∣age of Ferdinand, eldest Son of Don Juan II. This negotiation therefore proving unsuccessful, Lewis XI. cast his Eyes upon the Princess Joane, which Joane of Castille had had by one of her favourites, and which King Henry had acknowledg'd for his Daughter, notwithstand∣ing he was impotent, in hopes to set up the rights of that Princess against Isabell. But the Duke of Guienne, to whom the King made the proposal, would not so much as hear of a match that must have engag'd him in a bloody War with the King of Aragon, and privately sent to demand Mary, the only Daughter and heiress of Charles Duke of Burgundy. But the Duke who saw that the greatest Princes in Europe sought his Daughter, would not determin so suddenly up∣on the choice of a Son in Law, but without en∣gaging his promise to any one, kept 'em all in suspence. The Duke of Guyenne vex'd at this

hesitation of the Duke, took his leave of the King at Orleans, to go and drive away his me∣lancholy in his own Government. At Amboise he had a sight of Magdalen, who had been the Widow of Lewis d' Amboise, about six months, who had marry'd her for her beauty, but had no Children by her. The Duke was so pleas'd with her conversation, that he forgot for some time, that he had left the Court to retire to his Go∣vernment of Bourdeaux, and made a proposal to Madam d' Amboise to go along with him: but she excus'd her self, alledging the injury it would be to her reputation. The Duke therefore to vanquish her scruples, confer'd upon her the County of St. Severe, and oblig'd her by that same generous present, to answer his passion. The pretence then for her going was to take possession of certain Lands, which as she gave out, she had purchas'd of the Duke; and this serv'd to conceal the Intreague, that was between him and her. They arriv'd together at Bour∣deaux, very well satisfi'd with each other; and Madam d' Amboise, who was not ungratefull for the favours she and receiv'd from the Duke, made use of all talents that Heaven had bestow'd upon her, to preserve his affection. She sung with art, and had a charming voice, she plaid upon several instruments, and had a delicate vain in Poetry; so that the hours they spent toge∣ther, ne'r seem'd tedious. But in regard that Love is not always satisfi'd with these inno∣cent pastimes, Madam d' Amboise was deliver'd of a Daughter, that after the death of the Duke

her Father, was Abbess of St. Paroux in Perigort. The Dukes affection for his Mistress also daily increas'd, and their happiness would have been a subject worthy of envy, had not ambition in∣terrupted their felicities. For the Duke of Guyenne held correspondences all a long at Court, which made the King jealous. He was afraid least his Brother should grow too potent, and there∣fore suborn'd Jourdain Fanre, Abbot of St. John de Angeli to poyson him. That traytor upon whom the Duke of Guyenne had heap'd his fa∣vours, readily undertook to sacrifice his life for the hopes of a pitiful reward. To which pur∣pose he presented a lovely Peach to Madam d' Amboise, which he had envenom'd: the Lady gave it her Lover, who sliceing it into a cup of wine, they eat it both together. Madam d' Amboise di'd the same day, but the Duke lay languishing for some Months. Nevertheless, the violence of the poyson was so strong, that it fetch'd off his hair, the nails of his hands, and depriv'd him of the use of his limbs. Jourdain was ap∣prehended, and the Bishop of Angiers was ioyn'd in Commission with Lewis d' Amboise, after∣wards Bishop of Albi, to prosecute him. But the King put a stop to the prosecution, and or∣der'd that the impeachment, as well as the in∣formations, should be sent to him; which dis∣cover'd to the World, the share which he had in the fact. But Heaven would not permit so enormous a crime to go unpunish'd; for the vil∣lain was consum'd by a flash of Lightning that

burnt him to ashes, at the bottom of the dun∣geon, where he lay in Fetters.

[year 1474] THE Duke of Burgundy took the Field, to revenge the death of the Duke of Guyenne, and entring Picardy, com∣mitted great havock in the Country. The King on the other side, muster'd what Forces he could together to defend the Province, and arriving at a Village near Amiens, call'd Gigon, was ac∣coasted by a Woman all beblubber'd with tears, who falling at his feet, demanded justice against his Soldiers, who making their way by violence to quarter in the Village of which her Husband was the Lord, had slain him. The King cast his Eyes upon the Widow, and perceiv'd so ma∣ny charms in her countenance, that he was dazl'd with the sight of 'em. He rais'd her from the ground, and assur'd her he would punish the guilty so soon as he came to a place where he made any stay: Soon after, the King made a Truce with the Duke of Burgundy,, and return∣ing to Paris, carri'd Madam de Gigon along with him: he discover'd to her the Passion he had for her, and heap'd so many Favours upon her, that he soon made her forget her loss. Nor was she ungrateful, but signaliz'd her acknowledg∣ment at the expence of her Honour. She had one Daughter that was afterwards marry'd to the Bastard of Bourbon. The custom of that time was for Ladies to adorn themselves with Jewels, and they wore Chains of Precious Stones, that came three or four times about their Necks.

The King gave Order to a famous Jeweller, whose name was Passefilon, to make one of those Chains for Madam Gigon; and the Jeweller's Wife carry'd it home to the King's Mistress, so soon as it was finish'd. The King was then by accident in her Chamber, and found the Jewel∣lers Wife so lovely, that his Love for Madam Gigon, could not protect his Heart against her Charms. However, he could not discover his Passion in his Mistresses Presence, but comman∣ded Landais his Treasurer to send her to him, when she came to be paid for the Chain; telling him, that he would drive the bargain himself; which was a usual thing for him to do, in regard, that being very covetous, he would be taking notice of the meanest trifles, to hinder his Offi∣cers from making any advantage of their Places. Mrs. Passefilon, then, was admitted into his Ca∣binet, and observing her but in an ordinary Dress, he told her in plain terms, without fetch∣ing any great compass about, that if she would comply with his Passion, she should gain more by him in a year, then she could get as long as she liv'd in her Shop. The Jewellers Wife, who lov'd Money, and had been a witness of the raising of Madam de Gigon, easily sur∣render'd to this Royal Temptation, and the bar∣gain was presenly concluded. In a short time she grew big with Child, and brought the King an∣other Daughter, that was afterwards marry'd to Anthony de Bueil, Count of Sancerre. But when Passefilon saw that she had wherewithal to live like a Lady, she was as willing as others to

tast some high sauce with her amorous Plea∣sures, and was resolv'd to perswade her Royal Paramour to go more neatly drest, then he was wont to do. One day therefore, that the King came to pay her a visit in a homely Suit, and a foul Shirt, Sir, said she, When I surrender'd my Heart to a King of France, I thought to have sound in the Courtly commerce wherein I had embark'd my self, all the Gayeties of Orna∣ment and Gallantry, that the Magnificence of the most noble Court in Europe could have af∣forded; nevertheless, 'tis my grief, that when I have an eager desire to abandon my self to to the transports of a tender Passion; I smell nothing but slovenly Grease, where nothing but Muske and Amber should perfume my Nose. In truth, should one of my Apprentices accoast me in that same Garb that you are in, I would kick him out of my sight. What must For∣reign Ministers say, that see you so ill support the Majesty of your Royal Dignity? What Lampoons did the Spaniards make, between your Majesty and the King of Castille, upon your thread-bare Cap, and your Leaden Agnus Dei, instead of one beset with Diamonds? The King was so amaz'd at this Curtain Lecture, that he had not the power to interrupt her; However, as he was a great dissembler, he did not discover his disgust, tho he thought it high time to get him a more complaisant Mistress. To that purpose, having heard much talk of a young Lady of Dijon, whose name was Huguette de Jaqueline, that was well descended, but very

poor, he sent for her to Court, and having ta∣ken her for his Mistriss, he had a Third Daugh∣ter by her, whom he bestow'd upon Amànd of Poitiers, Lord of St. Valier.

Intreagues of the Court of France, under the Reign of Charles VIII.

* 1.23LEWIS, Duke of Orleans, had the mis∣fortune to be belov'd by Ann of France, the Daughter of Lewis XI. I say the misfor∣tune, because the Passion of that Princess, was in good part, the cause of all the crosses that befell him, during his life. She gave him to un∣derstand her Inclinations toward him, and thô the Duke did not comply with her, but in terms rather of Respect then Tenderness, yet she sur∣ceas'd not to interpret 'em favourably, and to believe she was belov'd, because she deserv'd to be so. She refus'd for love of the Duke of Orleans, a Match, which her Father would have made for her with Nicholas of Anjou, Duke of Lorrain, and acknowledg'd to that Prince, that it was the only reason of her refusal. He an∣swer'd with so much indifferency to what she spoke to him the most obligingly in the world upon that occasion, that she began at length to open her Eyes, and to understand that she had flatter'd her self to little purpose; when she thought he had comply'd with her tenderness,

which was the reason that she resolv'd to marry Peter of Bourbon, Duke of Beaujou. Upon the first proposal of it, that the King her Father made her, as she was unwilling to be unfortunate alone, she perswaded Lewis XI. over whom she had a powerful Ascendant, to marry the Duke of Orleans to Joan of France, his Daughter, who was neither beautiful, nor of an agreeable tem∣per. The Duke would fain have excus'd him∣self, but the King laid his Commands upon him so imperiously, that he was forc'd to obey. 'Tis true, that the Marriage was not consummated, whether it were, that he had an aversion for the Princess, or that she had some natural defects, as it was afterwards pretended, which hinder'd her having of Children. After the death of Lewis XI, the Duke of Orleans demanded the Regency, during the minority of Charles VIII. who was not above Thirteen years of age; but the Dutchess of Beaujou carry'd it before him. But thô she had got this advantage, yet for all that she could not chuse but seek the Duke of Orleans's friendship, whom she had not the pow∣er to hate, notwithstanding his indifferency, and she offer'd him a share in the Government, if he would but live in a friendly correspondence with her: but he return'd those Answers, that ill became him to her civilities. Thereupon, the Dutchess exasperated by his Contempt, stu∣died nothing so much, as which way to be re∣veng'd. She grounded her pretence upon a quar∣rel which the Duke of Orleans had had with the Duke of Lorraine, while he was playing at Ten∣nis

with him, and would have had the Duke ap∣prehended; but he withdrew to the Duke of Bretagne. In whose Court, while the Duke of Orleans resided, he waited most sedulously upon the Princess Ann his Daughter, and fell so deep∣ly in love with her, that he preserv'd his Passion for her, till his death. In the mean time he enter'd into a strict confederacy against the Du∣chess Regent, of which, himself, and the Duke of Bretagne were the Heads. They betook themselves to Arms on both sides, and they came to the decision of a Battle in the Plain of St. Aubin: where the Confederate Princes were defeated, and the Duke of Orleans being taken pris'ner, was afterwards lock'd up in the Tower of Bourges: nor was he releas'd till after Charles VIII. had espous'd Ann of Bretagne, and at the same time that the King was preparing for his expedition into Italy.

Intreagues of the Court of France, under the Reign of Lewis XII.

LEWIS of Orleans being come to the Crown, made it his whole study to marry the Princess Ann, Widow of Charles VIII. his Predecessor. He caus'd the Reasons for the dissolving of his Marriage with the Princess Joan to be laid before Pope Julius, as being uncapa∣ble of ever bringing forth Successors to the

Crown, and desir'd a Dispensation from his Holiness, to marry the fair Queen, whom he dearly lov'd. Nor would his impatience per∣mit him to stay till he receiv'd the Dispensation: 'twas enough to hear by the Legate's Secretary, whom he had gain'd to his side, that it was al∣low'd and drawing up. Yet for all this, the love of that Princess, surceas'd not to cause him new disturbances. She became jealous of Louise of Savoy, Countess of Angoulesme, Mother of Francis the First, and their hatred brake forth to that degree of exasperation, that it divided the whole Court into Parties. Lewis XII. had a design to marry the Princess Claudia his Daugh∣ter with the young Count of Angoulême, whom he look'd upon as his Successor, but the Queen oppos'd it to the utmost of her power. There∣fore to cross this design, she resolv'd to marry her with Charles of Austria, who was already call'd Prince of Spain, and to give him Bretagne in favour of that Alliance. To this purpose, she sent privately a Gentleman of the House of Rieux into Flanders, and thence into Germany. This Gentleman made the Proposal to the Em∣peror Maximilian, the Prince's Grandfather, by the Father's side, and to Chieuvres, his Gover∣nour. They agreed upon the Articles, which were Sign'd, and there remain'd nothing but the Ceremony of the Nuptials, which had been solemniz'd unknown to the King, had not the tender age of the Parties been an obstacle to the Consummation; and had it been in the power of the Queen to have dispos'd of her

Daughter as she would her self: to which end, fortune sometime after gave her an opportunity, of which she try'd to make her advantage.

The King falling sick at Paris, his distemper increas'd to that degree, that the Physicians gave him over for lost, and while the whole Court was in a consternation upon the despe∣rate condition of the King's health, the Queen took her opportunity privately, to send away her Daughter by water down the River Loire, to Nantes. But passing through Angiers, she was stop'd by the Marshal de Gi••, who was Gover∣nor of that place. The Marshal was one that took part with the Countess of Angoulême, and in regard, he was not ignorant that the Queen oppos'd the King's design of marrying Claudia, with the Son of that Princess, he soon conjectur'd the reason that his masters Daughter was sent away by that private conveyance, during his Sickness. Nor was he ignorant how prejudicial the conjunction of Bretagne to the Dominions of Spain, would be to France, which was the reason, that without many more to do, he resolv'd to cross a contrivance so dangerous, notwith∣standing he was assur'd that the Queen would never forgive him, should the King happen to die of his Sickness. Thereupon he stopt the Princess,, with most respectful protestations of his sorrow, for being constrain'd to come to that extremity. This action of the Marshal was com∣mended by the King, and all good French men, and the Queen her self feign'd to applaud it; however, when the King was recover'd, she

made use of her credit to ruin that faithful subject. Nevertheless she could not prevent the marriage of her Daughter with the Count of Angoulême, because it was generally desir'd. But it was such an inward vexation to her, that sinking un∣der the weight of her corroding anguish, she dy'd in the thirty seven Year of her age. 'Tis true, the King did not express that sorrow for her death, as 'tis thought he would have done, considering the passion he had for her, as long as she liv'd: whither it were that his mind was taken up with his cares of the Wars of Italy, or that the Queen's attempts against his authority, had cool'd the heat of his Love. However af∣ter that, he liv'd such a reserv'd life, that no body believ'd he would ever have thought of a third Marriage; but the Duke of Longueville was the occasion of reviving that desire in him.

That Prince having rashly engag'd him∣self in a battle against the English, [year 1514] lost the battle of Spurs, and became a prisoner to Henry VIII. of England. To repair this fault, he un∣dertook during his imprisonment, to bring off that Prince from his confederacy with the Em∣peror, nor did he find any great trouble to per∣swade him to it. For thô he were very young, he was very thrifty, and he was a weary of pay∣ing the Emperours Troops, who was extreamly poor; and of furnishing him a hundred Crowns a day for his table. There only wanted there∣fore a plausible pretence to break the Confede∣racy; and there was not a better at that time

to be found, then a more strict alliance between France and England.

Henry VIII. had a Sister whose beauty was a domestick mischief to him, as we shall find in the sequel of this history. She was born after another Daughter, so much unprovided of the graces of the body, that the King of Scotland had ne∣ver marry'd her, but because the King would not marry the youngest before the eldest. The young∣est being come of Age, the Duke of Milan, and several other Sovereign Princes sought her in vain, because 'twas not then the custom to mar∣ry the King's Daughter, out of the Island. This custome, which had not been alter'd for four Ages together, had infus'd into the young En∣glish Lords of the highest Quality, a confidence to pretend to the Princess, and the King gave way to it, lest he should be accus'd of too much severity toward his Sister; tho' he had no design to have marry'd her to any of his subjects, for fear of drawing a civil War upon himself, not unlike to those wherein several of his prede∣cessors had miscarry'd. Nevertheless, in regard it is a difficult thing for a Woman to hold out any long time against Love, when she makes it her business to allure, the Princess of England, after she had entangl'd in the snares of Love, all those that could give any cause of jealousy to her Brother, was her self smitten with one, whom he had little reason to fear. There was intro∣duc'd into the Court of England, a young En∣glish Gentleman, whose name was Charles Bran∣don, without any other recommendation, then

that of the King's Nurse, whose Son he was. He was extreamly handsome, well proportion'd in his person, and very active in all manner of exercises. He had the air of a person of Qua∣lity; and there was observ'd in him that sweet∣ness of temper, and that discretion, that he was welcome into all societies, and chiefly into the Ladies company, who were altogether pre∣valent at Court. The King took him for his second in all his matches at Tenis, and made him the confident of all his most secret pleasures. He conferr'd upon him the office of his chief Hunts∣man, and lest his name should remind the Cour∣tiers of the meaness of his Birth, he caus'd him to assume the title of the Counts of Suffolk, il∣lustrious for the merit and quality of the persons who had born it, for above two hundred years. It is not certainly known, whether this new ti∣tle had convinc'd the Princess, that she might, bestow her affection without any dishonour, up∣on the person whom the King her Brother had honour'd with it; since the English Histories are full of presidents of several Earls of Suffolk, that have pretended to the marriage of the Sisters and Daughters of their King's; or whether the Love which she already had for him, had imprint¦ed that Idea in her mind in his favour; but it was observ'd, that in a short time after the Princess lookt upon Suffolk with a more passionate glance, then she was wont to do.

Nor wat it so much to be wonder'd at, that the Earle should make her suitable returns, with Eyes no less inflam'd and sparkling. And the

Courtiers in a little time were so us'd to it, that they took little notice of it: whether it were the custome at that time, to love at well beneath as above their quality, or whether it were, that the Courtiers thought it not proper to be more concern'd about it, then the King himself was, who only laught at the business, and made him∣self merry with the two lovers, so soon as he discover'd their reciprocal affection. Not that he approv'd it in the main, or that he had so high a value for Suffolk, as to make him his Bro∣ther in Law, (thô he had a greater kindness for him, then for the rest of his Courtiers.) But he was in hopes to draw some advantage from the inequality of this Amour, which he thought would exasperate the English Lords against her, and cause 'em to desist from looking any more after her; besides that, he assur'd himself that he should be so much the master of his Sister, and Suffolk, that nothing should be acted between them two, but by his consent.

This was the posture of the Court of England, when the Duke of Longueville made a proposal as from himself, of a match between the Prin∣cess, and Lewis XII. The King of England listen'd to him with those marks of respect and approbation, which suficiently discover'd what he had in his Heart. He was importun'd to be∣stow his Sister out of the way, and he met with the most lucky means that Fortune ever could have offer'd him. 'Tis true, he could not with∣out some trouble to himself, put an end to a War so advantageous to him, however it would

have been no less a vexation to him, to separate from his new Mistress, who would have been unwilling to cross the Seas, and follow him in his Armies.

In the mean time he was engag'd to repass into France, upon the return of the Spring, not doubt∣ing but that if he fail'd in his promise, both his Enemies and his own Souldiers would accuse him of Cowardice. There was nothing but a Peace that could handsomly disingage him from that excessive expence which he would be oblig'd to be at, if he intended to keep the Emperors Ar∣my in pay the next Spring. In short, he grew weary of contributing to the ambitious designs of the King of Spain, his Brother in Law, yet getting nothing by it, and contented himself with having been twice deceiv'd by as many Treaties sign'd by his Ambassador Quintana, as suttle a Fox of a Castilian, as ever was born. Nevertheless the King of England being haughty, told the Duke of Longueville, that it would be time enough to think of his Sister, when she should be demand∣ed in due form. As much as to say, that it was not from the mouth of a Prisoner that the King was to take notice of any proposal of that na∣ture.

The Duke of Longueville gave a shrewd guess at the King's thoughts, and sent into France, un∣der pretence of sending for his ransome, a Gen∣tleman who assur'd Lewis XII. that it would be his own fault if he did not make a Peace with England upon reasonable conditions, and marry the King's Sister, who was the most lovely Wo∣man

in Europe. Lewis, who had always an amou∣rous inclination, willingly entertain'd the pro∣posal, and the portraiture of the Princess, that was sent him, was too powerful a charm to let his affection for the Female Sex lie dormant. He flatter'd himself also with the hopes of having a Son, and casting off all his former fears, of the inconveniencies that might befall him, if Bre∣tagne were separated from the Crown, he dis∣patcht into England the General of Normandy, who concluded both the Peace and the Match in fifteen days, and carry'd the Princess to Bou∣logne, where the Count of Angoulême, had Or∣ders to go and receive her.

The Count most gladly undertook and dis∣charg'd his trust, thô the marriage which he so∣lemniz'd by procuration from the King was the way, in all probability to deprive him of the Crown. However, Francines, the King's chief Physician, assur'd him that the King was very unlikely to have any more Children. So that he appear'd at Boulogne like a Prince, who only minded his divertisement; at what time, he could not forbear falling in Love with her, whom he marry'd for his Father in Law, as she could not chuse but wish, that Heaven had ordain'd the Count for her Husband. And the convenience which they had to entertain each other with pri∣vate Conversation, might perhaps have promp∣ted 'em to have taken a far greater liberty, if the Prothonotary du Pont, who was plac'd near the Prince to moderate in some measure the transports of his youth, had not put it into his head, that 'twas not the new Queen's interest,

to keep her self very cbast; because that in re∣gard she was going to a Husband, by whom, as all People said, she would never have any Chil∣dren, 'twas to be fear'd she would submit to a temptation that might help her to a Child, for the preservation of her race in France, when she came to he a Widow, and dispence with her re∣turn into England, under subjection to her Bro∣ther: but that as for himself, it concern'd him above all Men, to take care of the Queen's liv∣ing chastily, as being a thing far remote from his Interest, to sollicite her to incontinence: for that if she had a Son by him, that Son would hinder him from coming to the Crown, and re∣duce him to be contented with Bretagne, which his Wife had brought him, while he contrary to the order of nature, must: be forc'd to do Ho∣mage to a Bastard. This reason cool'd the Count of Angoulême's courage, and caus'd him to look upon the Queen with no other then jealous Eyes: and he watch'd her so narrowly, that at length he discover'd the kindness she had for Suffolk. He follow'd her with the character of her Cham∣pion of Honour, but carry'd himself with that discretion, that they could have never penetrated into his affairs, had they not been already dis∣cover'd in England.

The Count understood every thing so well, that the slightest circumstances were not con∣ceal'd from him, and because it was no less then either the loss or gaining of a Crown, that was now in agitation, he sought an oppor∣tunity to speak with Suffolk in private. He told

him that he was well acquainted with his good correspondence with the Queen, and that he was so far from breaking it off, that he would coun∣tenance him in it, provided he might be no loos∣er by it: that the King was not in ••ondition to have Children, nor to live long: that Suffolk could never think of making any progresses in the Queen's favour, without exposing himself to the danger of being discover'd, by a multitude of spies that would never loose sight of him; so that if he took never so little liberty, he was a lost Man past all redemption. On the otherside, if he would give him assurance to contain himself within the bounds of respect, he would engage never to cross his good fortune after the King's death, nay he would connive at his marrying the Queen in private, and allow him an establishment in France, as good as he could desire, till he could make his peace with the King of England.

Thô the Duke of Angoulême never consider'd at the time of his making those proposals, whi∣ther he could be as good as his word, when he came to the Crown, Suffolke found 'em so ad∣vantageous, that he was charm'd with 'em, and accepted of 'em as real performances. He pro∣mis'd more then the Duke demanded, and of∣fer'd to be himself a Spy upon the Queen. But, in regard it would have been a piece of impru∣dence to have wholly confided in his Word, Pre∣cautions were taken to hinder him from breach of Faith, should he have gone about to have violated his promise. The Baroness of Aumont was made of Honour to the Queen, and became

her most intimate Confident. And it was by the advice of the Queen, that she enlarg'd the functions of her Office, beyond the usual bounds; and that knowing the Queen to be fearful and unwilling to lie alone, she pretended that the Honour of lying with the Queen in the King's absence, belong'd to her, and carry'd it, to the exclusion of all the Ladies which the Queen brought with her out of England.

Now because the Count of Angoulême's Friends thought it absolutely necessary, that he should have secret and faithful Spies about the Queen; Madame, and the Baroness d'Aumont undertook that Province, and divided their time so exactly between 'em, that either the one or the other was always by her; nor did she ever suspect the true Reason, for that she had much more Beauty then Wit. The Baroness cover'd their sedulity with the fair pretence of that Du∣ty which they said they were oblig'd to pay her, the one as her Daughter-in-law, the other, as her Maid of Honour. There was only Suffolk who was so quick-sighted as to perceive their design: but in regard he found at the same time they took care to conceal it, he rather chose to feign ignorance, then to give the Queen no∣tice of it, for fear the Count should seek his re∣ine, as taking from thence, an occasion to tax him with breach of Promise.

This was the posture of the Intreagues at Court, when the King dy'd, the First day of the year 1515. six Weeks or thereabout after his Nuptials. However, the Queen was observ'd

with the same exactness as before, so long as there was any reason to doubt whether she was with Child, or no. But after she had declar'd her self free, and that that they were assur'd by undeniable proofs; that her Declaration was sincere, the Count of Angoulême being advanc'd to the Crown, by the name of Francis I. was de∣sirous to keep his word exactly with Suffolk. To which purpose he spoke of it in his Coun∣cil; at what time his Ministers endeavour'd to divert him from it, laying before him, that it would be the committing a fault at the begin∣ning of his Reign, which was never to be re∣pair'd, and an unsurmountable obstacle to his designs of marching into Italy for the recovery of the Dutchy of Milan, which his predecessors had lost; and that it behov'd him before his de∣parture, to secure himself against his neighbours, more especially the English, who were most of all to be fear'd: that Hen. VIII. was the most haughty Monarch in Europe, and that it would be the most sensible injury that could be done him, to permit an inferior Marriage of his Sister. However, the consideration of Honour was more predominant over Francis I. then his own Inte∣rests. He suffer'd Suffolk to marry the Queen Dowager privately, and the King of England, whose haughty Passion was sometimes soften'd by a capricious Humour, which at times got the upper hand of him, consented to the Marriage when it could not be undone, which he never would have permitted before the knot was knit. His tender kindness for Suffolk reviv'd in him,

when he saw him guilty of a crime, which it behov'd him, either absolutely to pardon, or to cut of his Head: and that Love, which he could not brook one day himself, without discovering it to the Party that was the occasion of it, ren∣der'd him indulgent to his Sister, who had for∣born to satisfie her own Affection, till her Wi∣dowhood gave her permission. Thereupon he pardon'd 'em both, consented to her second marriage, sent for her into England, so soon as he had secur'd her Dowry of 60000 Livres a year, and renew'd his Alliance with Francis I. upon the conditions, that he had sign'd to Lewis XII.

The Intreagues of the Court of France, under the Reign of Francis I.

[year 1517] FRANCIS I. was a Prince endow'd with all those qualities that were pro∣per to make a Great Monarch. He was mild and easie, liberal and magnificent in all things, and moreover, a comely handsome Person. He had a quick Wit, and a true Judgment, he was stout, and undaunted in danger, indefatigable in la∣bour, and constant in ill fortune; he was a lo∣ver of Learning, and had a great value for Learn∣ed Men. With all these great Talents, it was to be thought that he would have carry'd on his Conquests far and near, had not his excessive

compliances with his Mother, and his indulgence to his Mistresses, caus'd him to commit those faults, from which he had much adoe to re∣deem himself. His extraordinary Expences up∣on voluptuous Feasts, had so exhausted his Trea∣sure, that he wanted Money for his necessary Exigencies. The Love of the Countess of An∣goulême for the Constable of Bourbon, and her de∣spite to find that he did not correspond with her Passion, carry'd her to those extremities, that he was forc'd to throw himself into the Spani∣ards Arms, to deliver himself from her persecu∣tions. The choice which Francis I. made of the Brothers of his first Mistress, to command his Armies in Italy, occasion'd the loss of all his Conquests; and the Intelligence which the Second held with the Emperor Charles V. to make him her Protector against Diana of Poictiers, the Dauphin's Mistress, reduc'd him to make an ignominious Peace with the Spaniasds.

The object of his first Amours, after his co∣ming to the Crown, was the Countess of Châ∣teau Brian. She was the Daughter of Phoebus de Grailly, a Prince of the House of Foix; a Person who had all the Graces both of Body and Mind, that could cause a Woman to be belov'd. The Count of Château Brian sought her in Marriage, when she was but Twelve years of age, and ob∣••ain'd his desire, because he requir'd no Portion with her. He had a Daughter by her very ••arly, and he had wanted nothing to compleat his Happiness, could he but have kept the Trea∣••ure hid, which he conceal'd so long in a corner

of Bretaigne; but noise and rumour is as inse∣parable from accomplish'd Beauties, as the sha∣dow from substance. The King was easily over∣rul'd by his own Inclination, or by the Coun∣tess of Angoulême, his Mother, to permit the introducing those Ladies into Court, which ne∣ver appear'd there before, but upon great Ce∣remonies, and the Count of Chateau-Brian was invited to bring his Wife thither, who was to be the principal Ornament of it. He excus'd it however a long time, whether he were jealous, or whether he had any secret Prognosticks with∣in himself of what would befall him.

His evasions were so courtly, and accompa∣ny'd with so many probable circumstances, that they afforded no occasion to mistrust 'em of Artifice. He laid all the fault upon the morose humour of his Wife, which it was impossible to tame: but all his foresight could not prevent the destiny which the Stars had allotted him. An unexpected Affair, wherein his whole Estate was concern'd, call'd him of necessity to Court, and forc'd him from Bretaigne, where he would have thought himself a happy Man to have spent all his days.

Now, in regard he foresaw that his stay at Court would be of long continuance, he put his Invention upon the Rack, to find out an expe∣dient which way to avoid the King's importuni∣ties, yet without depriving himself the liberty of sending for her, when he pleas'd himself. Af∣ter he had weigh'd and consider'd several, he could not think of any better, then to cause

two Jewels to be made of a fantastic fashion, yet so like as not to be distinguish'd one from the other, and to make use of one to let his Wife understand his intentions. One he kept himself, the other he gave the Countess, telling her with∣al that he was going to Court, whether he should be constrain'd to send for her; but that she should give credit to none of his Letters, if she did not find the Jewel, which he kept himself, inclosed within in it. The Countess never made many reflexions upon her Husbands endocuments, for that having always liv'd above a hundred Leagues from Court, she was neither acquainted with the divertisements, nor the dangers of it. So that she only lock'd up the Jewel, and made a promise of Obedience to her Husband.

The Count was most graciously receiv'd by the King, yet gently chiding him now and then for not having brought his Wife along with him; but having a great deal of Wit, he excus'd himself as long as he could, without making any promise. Afterwards he made as if he were willing to leave it to the Countess to do as she pleas'd her self, and wrote to her in the very Language that the Court prescrib'd him: but because she saw no Jewel, she still answer'd with some evasion or other.

This collusion had continu'd much longer, had not the Count betraid his own Secret. But he was govern'd altogether by one of his Valets de cham∣bre, from whom he kept nothing conceal'd; now that Servant seeing him set such a value upon a Jewel that did not seem to be very rich, de∣manded

the reason of it; because, said the Count, very imprudently, it contains the Secret, which way to make my Wife come to Court.

The Valet de chambre did not presently ap∣prehend the meaning of his Masters words, but after he had ponder'd 'em for some time in his Mind, he gave a shrewd conjecture at a good part of the Truth; and as he had been tempted several times to serve the Court to his Master's prejudice, he went to find out those that had sounded him, and told 'em, he could put into their hands the only infallible means to send for his Mistriss, and to bring her up to Court, pro∣vided, he might be secur'd of a Livelyhood, if the Count should turn him out of his Service. The bargain was made, and the Jewel was stollen, and deliver'd to an expert Artist, who made an∣other so like it, that the Valet himself could not discern the one from the other. Thereupon the Counterfeit was intermix'd among the rest of the King's Jewels, and the true one was kept, to fetch the Countess from her solitary Re∣cess.

This done, they told the Count, that they could never believe that he wrote sincerely to his Lady to come to Court, and upon his offer to make use of the most moving and tender ex∣pressions, and to deliver his Letter to any Mes∣senger they should make choice of; he was ta∣ken at his word, and the Jewel was seal'd up in the Letter. The Countess deluded by this Ar∣tifice, departed from Chateau-Brian, and made so much haste, that her Husband saw her, be∣fore

he knew that she was sent for. But he was not so much surpriz'd, however, at her arrival, as at the two Jewels which she shew'd him, and then he founnd that he was betraid; but he ne∣ver call'd to mind that he himself had been the occasion of it. He accus'd Heaven for the fault which himself had committed, and immediately departed, in order to his return into Bretain, for fear of being the witness of his own shame.

The Countess thus abandon'd by him, whom it most concern'd to preserve her Honour, did no more then what m••ght well be expected from a Virtue that never was put to the Tryal. She resisted for some time, but at length sur∣render'd to the King's importunities. She had at first a very great Ascendant over the King, and she might have advanc'd her Husband to the chiefest Imployments in the Kingdom, had he been of a humour to prefer Ambition before Honour; but he still refus'd what he suspected was was only offer'd him for his Wives sake; nor would he ever hear talk of her under any pre∣tence whatever.

When the Countess saw, that her Husband withstood with so much obstinacy, whatever she did to advance his Fortune, she bethought her self of setting up her two Brothers. They were both as stout as she was Fair: and she caus'd the Government of Milanois to be given to Lautrec, who was the eldest; after the Constable of Bour∣bon was dismiss'd from his imployment. And it was given out, that all was done to do justice to his Deserts, and to recompense him for Two and

twenty wounds that he had receiv'd at the Bat∣tle of Ravanna, fighting to save the Life of Gaston de Foix, his Cousin German Nevertheless, 'tis certain, that if the Countess of Chateau-Brian had not been his Sister, he had never ob∣tain'd that imployment, because the King knew him to be a Man fix'd to his own Opinion, and one that would never submit to the Counsels of those who had more experience then himself. His negligence was the reason that Pope Leo X. lost the Dutchie of Ʋrbin, which made him re∣pent of the Alliance he had made with France, and of which he made heavy complaints to the King. Trivultio also, who was one of the greatest Cap∣tains of his Age, because, that seeing Lautrec's faults, he took the liberty to school him, was turn'd out of Favour. The Countess of Chateau-Brian, caus'd him to be recall'd at the sollicita∣tion of her Brother, and he came to Court to justifie himself against several Crimes that were laid to his Chatge: but he was so ill receiv'd by the King, that it broke his Heart, and he dy'd with Grief. Thus you see how this Prince, prepossess'd by his Mistresses, entrusted the Command of his Armies with persons, unable to manage such great imployments, and slighted those that were able to do him profitable Ser∣vices.

Lautrec therefore having done nothing con∣siderable in Italy, return'd to Court to marry the Heiress of Orval Teligny, whom he had left at Mi∣lan, to Command there in his room, by his good Conduct, repair'd the disorders which his impru∣dence

had caus'd, and the People appear'd so well satisfi'd, that there was good reason to hope that all things would have gone well. But the King's Complacency for the Countess, spoyl'd all again. She perswaded Lesent her youngest Brother, made Bishop of Aire, to quit his Cas∣sock, and obtain'd the same employment for him, while Lautrec minded his own Domestick affairs in Guyenne.

Lesent had all the virtues and all the vices which are commonly attributed to the Beruois his Countrymen. His courage was undaunted, and he never appear'd with more a chearfull courage, then when he was to look the greatest dangers in the Face: but in exchange, he was highly pre∣sumptive, prodigal to excess, and these were two defects, the most contrary that could be to the Genius of the Italians, whom he was to go∣vern. The first render'd him contemptible to the Nobility, and the second made him, for slight offences, confiscate the Estates of several wealthy Families, without any other motive then to main∣tain his Pomp and Luxury; so that he prov'd as unfortunate in the administration of the Go∣vernment as his Brother. When the news came to Court, that the Pope had quitted his allyance with France, Lautrec was commanded to return to his Government. He made some scruple at first out of a secret misdoubting before hand, the ill success of his journey. He knew there was no Money in the Royal Treasury, and yet he requir'd three hundred thousand Crowns, with∣out which, he protested that the Dutchy of Mi∣lan

could not be preserv'd. But at length his Sisters tears, and the King's absolute orders she deliver'd to his hands, oblig'd him to take Post, after that Semblançay, the King's Trea∣surer had sworn to him, that he should no sooner arrive at Milan, but he should receive bills of Exchange for the Sum he demanded.

But the ill omen that attended his arrival, was enough to have terrifi'd a courage less undaunted then his. For a flash of Lightning set on Fire the Tower of the Castle of Milan, where the Powder lay, and blowing it up into the Air, in a solid bulk, overturn'd it after so odd a manner, that the top fell lowermost, and the Foundation stood uppermost. The rest of the structure was so shaken, that the French who were settl'd in Milan, and the Senators were constrain'd to keep watch, whole Nights together, till the Garison was reinforc'd. The first Action then, where∣with Lautrec signaliz'd his return, was the pu∣nishment of Pallavicini, the Popes kinsman, ac∣cus'd of holding correspondence with the Spani∣ards, whose Head he caus'd to be cut from his Shoulders, and gave the confiscation of his Es∣tate, amounting to 20000 Crowns a year, to his Brother Leseut, who was then call'd the Marshal de Foix, which only serv'd to incense the most considerable Families of Milan against him, and to render his Government more odious.

But notwithstanding the aversion of the Nobi∣lity and the People to the French, Lautrec might have preserv'd the strong holds within his Go∣vernment, could he but have retain'd the Swisses,

that were the chiefest strength of his Infantery, but not being able to pay 'em what was their due, the Cardinal of Sion found a way to debauch 'em, by supplying 'em with the same Sum. Lautrec foresaw this inconvenience, and might have a∣voided it, had the Court of France been as good as their word. But the 300000 Crowns which he was to have receiv'd at his arrival at Milan, not being sent, and the Contributions which he drew from the Country not sufficeing for his Men, he was reduc'd to loose the flower of his Infantry, for want of five and twenty thousand Crowns.

The King rely'd upon his Mother for the send∣ing of Money into Italy. But she, who saw that her Son began to do at every Day more then other upon the Countess of Chasteau-Brian, was afraid least she should supplant her in what concern'd the Principal Government of affairs. And per∣haps she might have been provok'd to take some unhappy resolution against the Countess, if Bon∣nivet had not stop'd her, by telling her that an unseasonable violence, would gather augment, then cure the King's passion. And that conside∣ration made her have recourse to destroy the cre∣dit of that Female favourite. To that purpose she made choice of a way that seem'd less hazar∣dous, thô most prejudicial to the Crown; which was to render her Brother odious, by ruining the success of their endeavours for the defence of the Milanois, committed to their care. This she thought an infallible way, since the King's aver∣sion, which they would incurr by the loss of that

Dutchy, the fairest in Christendom, would not fail to reflect upon their Loyalty, who had pro∣cur'd 'em the Government of it.

With this design, the Countess of Angoulême, the same Day that Lautrec departed from Paris, paid away the Money that was design••d him to another use; under pretence of Pensions and other gifts, charg'd upon the five greater Farms, And when Semblancy endeavour'd to oppose it, she deliver'd him an Acquittance, and told him that the Authority which Nature had given her over her Son, was enough to secure a Treasurer from being call'd to any accompt. Semblancy was either so credulous or so timorous, that he suffer'd the Princess to carry away the Money, and thought it a sufficient dispensation, for the Oaths that he had sworn to Lautrec; so ingeni∣ous a Man is to deceive himself, when he is afraid of loosing his employment.

What the Countess of Angoulême had fore∣seen, fell out: for the Souldiers that were in Milanois disbanded for want of their pay. Lau∣tres, after he had lost the principal strong holds within his Government, return'd into France with two of his Domestick Servants only, and pass'd in disguise through the Cantons of the Swisses. The King refus'd at first to see him, nor would he admit him into his presence, till the Countess of Bourbon had assur'd him, that he had where∣withal fully to justify himself, and that he came to discover those secrets, which were of great importance for His Majesty to understand. There∣upon he was introduc'd into a full Council,

where no less haughty then ever, he could not forbear complaining of the King's frowning up∣on him. Francis I. made answer, that a Man, who had lost in one Campagne, all the Conquests that he had won in Italy, deserv'd no other usage; to which Lautrec reply'd, without seeming to be any way concern'd, that 't was an easie thing to know, who was the cause of all the mischief.

The King imagining that he would lay the blame upon him, as'd him after a scornful man∣ner, and as it were to upbraid him, whither he had not receiv'd the 400000 Crowns, that were sent him by the way of Genoa? To which Lau∣trec repli'd, that indeed he had receiv'd Letters of advice, that Money should be sent him, but that he had never seen a Farthing. At those words the King stood like one in an amaze, at what time, Lautrec unwilling to loose the oppor∣tunity to inform him of the Truth, added with a resolute utterance, that no way betoken'd guilt, that he had often writ to His Majesty, that his Infantery, for the most part compos'd of Souldiers altogether mercinary, would infallibly Desert, if they were not pay'd by such a time; that the French Cavalry, Loyal and Constant beyond expression, had serv'd Eighteen Months without receiving so much as one Muster, but that the Swisses, who were no Subjects of France, did not think themselves bound to follow their ex∣ample•• that he lead the remainder of his Army into the territory of the Firm-land, but that the Venetians grew weary of supplying 'em, and had sent him word by the Proveditor Gritti, that

they were no more oblig'd to preserve Milanoise for the French, then the most Christian King who took no care of it. Upon which he dis∣lodg'd without sounding so much as a Trumpet, lest they should have stop'd him, and deliver'd him up to the Enemy, in hopes of making their Peace.

By this time the King being recover'd from his astonishment, interrupted Lautrec, telling him that he could not but acknowledge the receipt of the 3OOOOO Crowns, that Semblançay had un∣dertaken in his presence to pay him at Milan. To which Lautrec reply'd, that he had not receiv'd a doite either of the one or the t'other Sum; which put the King into a passion no less just, then it was violent. Semblançay was sent for, while the King in the mean while seeking to pick a quarrel with Lautrec, told him after an insult∣ing manner, that Colonna and Pescara, were no better assisted with Men and Money then he, yet they had found a way to drive him before 'em; and therefore why could not he find a way to defend himself without Money which was the easier thing of the two. Lautrec answer'd very modestly, that to make the comparison true, twas requisite, that the Milaneses should have no more kindness for one party then another. Which might so fall out under the Reign of Lew∣is XII. when the French being exactly paid, liv'd civily and peaceably among 'em. But the Army being grown licentious for want of pay, the Ita∣lians had conceiv'd such a hatred of 'em, that was only to be satisfi'd by opening their Bellies,

and tearing out their Hearts, as had happen'd in Navarr and other places. Immediately upon these words, Semblançay came into the Council Room; but the King instead of calling him Fa∣ther as he was wont to do, look'd askew upon him, and ask'd him why he had not paid Lau∣trec the 300000 Crowns which he had so solemn∣ly promis'd. Semblançay, who knew not the danger he was in, answer'd with that Ingenuity which was natural to him, that the same Day the Assignations for Milanois were drawn up, His Majesties Mother came to the Treasury, and de∣manded to be paid for all that was due to her, till that very time, as well for Pensions and Gra∣tifications, as for the Dutchy of Valois, Tourcine, and Anjou, of which she was the Donee: that he represented to her, that by the paying away so great a Sum all at a time, the Royal Treasury would be exhausted, and the Funds appointed for the Dutchy of Milan be deliver'd another way, contrary to what the King had order'd that Morning in her hearing, and to which she had consented; yet the Princess continu'd obstinate in her pretensions, and threatned to ruin him, if he did not let her have what she demanded: and whereas he declar'd to her, that it was as much as his head was worth, if Lautrec did not find the Money ready upon his arrival at Milan, she re∣ply'd, that she had credit enough with the King to secure him from any prosecution; and that if he should be call'd to an accompt for the pay∣ment of the Money another way, that was de∣sign'd for Italy, he should say, that 'twas done

by her Order. Thereupon the King, to clear the dispute, sent for his Mother, and Semblan∣çay repeated in her hearing, what he had said; which put her into such a rage, that the respect which she ow'd to her Son, could not restrain her from giving the Treasurer the lye, and demand∣ing justice of the King, against a hair brain'd Fellow, that went about to make her guilty of High Treason. But in regard, they had the Ac∣quittances which she left in the Treasury to justi∣fy her receite of the Money design'd for Lautrec, she confess'd that she demanded the payment of her Pensions, but she stood it out, that Semblan∣çay when he gave her the Money, never told her that it was order'd for Milan. She deni'd all the rest that Semblançay had said, and demanded his Imprisonment with so much heat, that the King was forc'd to cause him to be arrested in the Antichamber.

The business being thus clear'd up, it appear'd that Lautrec was Innocent, and all the blame fell upon Semblançay; upon which, the Chancellor du Prat, a Creature of the Countesses, the Pre∣sident Gentil, and certain Counsellor who were the Chancellors Friends, being appointed to try the Treasurer condemn'd him to Death, and he was publickly Executed. But the King never recover'd the places which he lost in Italy; the Marshal de Foix also, who was left in Cr••mona to defend that City, surrenderd it up to Colonna up∣on very easy term. These were the fatal ef∣fects which the jealousy of the King's mother, lest she should be supplanted by the King's Mis∣tress

produc'd. But she did a far more conside∣rable prejudice to France, by her transports against the Constable of Bourbon; for she con∣strain'd him to depart the Kingdom, and treat with the Enemies of the State; she compleated the ruin of the King's affairs in Italy, and was the principal cause of the King's being taken Prisoner. The story was thus.

Charles of Bourbon, Constable of France, was the second of Three Sons of Gilbert Montpensier, and Clarice Gonzaga; that is to say, he des∣cended from the only branch of Bourbon, that was unfortunate. His Father had lost his Life and reputation in the Kingdom of Naples, where Charles the VIII. had left him Viceroy. His el∣dest Brother expir'd for grief upon his Fathers Tomb, and the youngest was slain at the Battle of Marignon. As for himself, he appear'd at Court toward the end of the Reign of Lewis XII. when Claudia of France was marry'd. The tur∣nament matches, and the divertisements at that time, gave him an opportunity to signalize his Strengh and Activity; but it was his misfortune, in despite of himself, to be the object of the Countess of Angoulême•• affection, who could not be insensible of the rare endowments that ren∣der'd him so worthy to be belov'd.

He was extreamly Beautiful, Discreet, Liberal and Valiant: nor did his frank humour, which came near that of the ancient Gauls, hinder him from being successful in all manner of Intreagues. For thô he seem'd to be very open, yet he go∣vern'd himself so well in all Negotiations, and

manag'd what he had to say with so much art, that he tyr'd the patience of the most refin'd Politicians. The sweetness of his manners had acquir'd him the Friendship of the French, and the exact discipline which he kept among his Souldiers, produc'd him the esteem of his own Enemies. It seem'd as if fortune had been una∣voidably bound to follow him, because that ever∣since he bore Arms, the French had been always victorious wherever he was, and were vanquisht whereever he was not. He was beholding on∣ly to his own deserts for the dignity of Consta∣ble, and it may be said, that he wanted nothing to accomplish him for the Hero of his Age, but a little more complacency for the person that lov'd him; or a little less resentment of the in∣jury she did him, when she saw her self slight∣ed.

That haughty Princess made no oppositi∣on, either to the growth or progress of her passion, whither she were weary of living a Widow, or that she was unwilling, in chang∣ing her condition, to be forc'd to leave France, where she was assur'd of being in great credit, when her Son, the presumptive Heir to the Crown, should come to Reigne. But this Love was not reciprocal; whither it were that the Count of Montpensier (for so was the Consta∣ble call'd at first) could not find in his Heart to marry a Woman that had a Son almost as old as himself; or whether it were, that he felt at the bottom of his Heart, a secret antipathy against her; or lastly, that he fear'd to create a jea∣lousie

in him, whose Father in law he was to be Slander invented a fourth reason, which could not be true, because that Montpensier, had not as yet that ill opinion of the Countesses vitue, as he afterwards gave out, when she had de∣priv'd him of the principal function of his em∣ployment. However, because he had not a Re∣venue sufficient to support the lustre of his Birth, and for that he was not of a humour to neglect any thing that he could lawfully come by, thô his probity and his continency were exemplary in the age wherein he liv'd, he corresponded with the Countess's affection in such a manner, that she should not despair of rendring him sensible of her kindness, thô she well perceiv'd him so far from being mov'd, that still his Heart enjoy'd it's pri∣mitive liberty, nor to be enslav'd by all her Charms.

With this design she procur'd him the Com∣mand of the Army in Guyenne, where he prov'd fortunate; and that of the Army in Italy which he refus'd, out of a secret misdoubt of the little sa∣tisfaction he should purchase by it. The mis∣fortune which always accompani'd the person who had that employment in his room, mani∣fested his judgment, and augmented his reputa∣tion. The Countess of Angouleme, who saw that all Men applauded the care which he took of his Fortune, would have advanc'd him at the same time to the chief dignity of the Sword, had he not been constrain'd out of an unavoidable necessi∣ty to espouse those interests, which were opposite to those of his Benefactrice.

When the Count of Angoulême had marry'd Madam Claudia, the Countess his Mother began to take her place in the Council, and quarrel'd with the Dutchess of Beaujen, who till then had the chief management of affairs, and had acquit∣ted her self with extraordinary reputation. She had •• ••ol••d judgment, accompani'd with a pro∣found penetration: and it may be said, that she deserv'd all the encomiums that were bestow'd upon her: but her noble qualities were subject to two defects. She liv'd wrapt up with a con∣tinual admiration of her own person; and uni∣versally scorn'd all other Ladies, whatever their rank or merits were. Nor was she thus haughty without good grounds; for if there were any who equal'd her in Beauty, there were none that came near her for strength and deli∣cacy of Wit. These happy talents had obtain'd her the regency during the minority of Charles VIII. to the Exclusion of the Prince of the blood, who was afterwards Lewis XII. Thô she had mar∣ry'd no other then a Younger Brother of the House of Bourbon, the King, her Father, not deeming it convenient for reasons of State, to bestow her better, she had reduc'd the factious to their duty; she had supported the Royal Au∣thority, preserv'd the Kingdom in peace at home, and reunited Bretaign to the Crown. The King her Brother therefore, being arriv'd at Years of Majority, and mov'd with the services she had do••e n••m, co••ti nu'd her in the prin cipal man∣agement of affairs; and Lewis XII. for the same reason, thought it not convenient for

him to remove her. She was also in Council when the Countess of Angoulême was admitted. Lewis XII. perceiving these two Princesses em∣broil'd, and not being able to reconcile 'em, chose rather to declare for the Mother of his Sod in law, then for his Sister in Law. Which partial giving the precedency to the Countess of Angoulême, enrag'd the Dutchess of Beaujeu be∣yond Imagination, and made her greedily em∣brace the opportunity of revenge, which offer'd it self soon after. Her Husband di'd after he had reap'd the succession of Buurbon, and left her but one Daughter nam'd Susanna, who was afterwards the Original of the greatest suit that ever France beheld for several Ages.

The Count of Montpensier, who was become the eldest of the House of Bourbon, pretended to the whole Estate, by virtue of a kind of Salic Law, as the Civilians term it, or rather by vir∣tue of an ancient entail, renew'd from time to time, in both the Houses of Bourbon, which in∣vested in the succession to their Inheritances, the most remote Males, to the prejudice of the near∣est Females. The Princess Susanna, on the other∣side, grounded her right upon Common Law, and upon the Law of the Kingdom, which never excluded the Daughters of the most Illustrious Houses, any more then the Daughters of the meanest Families, from the Inheritances of their Fathers, when they had no Brothers.

Now the only way to avoid the Suit, was to marry both Parties together, and the Dutchess of Beaujeu, who had discover'd the Countess of

Angouléme's intention, thought there was no bet∣ter expedient to cross the Match, then by insi∣nuating into Monpensier, by trusty Persons, that it belong'd to him as his Right, to marry the Princess of Bourbon. The Artifice of this Pro∣posal consisted in this, That the Duchess of Beauj••u, was certain of securing by that meanes Monpens••er to her self, and bringing him off from her enemy; seeing that he who had so long withstood the charms of the Countess of Angou∣léme, when he was unmarry'd, would the more easily resist 'em, after he had marry'd the Prin∣cess of B urbon.

Monpensier never hesitated upon a Proposal that was doubly to his advantage. He knew well, that thô the Estate of the House of Bourbon were adjudg'd to him by Decree, yet he should be li∣able to perpetual trouble, not only because the Dutchess of Beaujeu's Portion, Jointure, and Right of Eldership were very considerable; Lewis XI. not having left any thing omitted in his Daughters Contract, to make the Articles as advantageous as could be; but because the Prin∣cess had expended all the Profits of her Regency, in paying the Debts of the House of Bourbon, which amounted to vast Sums, and which she was to be reimburs'd, before she could be put out of possession.

Monpensier convinc'd by these Reasons su'd to the King for leave to court Mademoiselle de Bourb••n, and to be so favourable, as to demand her for him. The King also thought this Match so necessary, that he caus'd it to be concluded in

three days. His Majesty, the Princes, the Offi∣cers of the Crown, and fifteen Bishops Sign'd the Contract. But the Learned Lawyers who had drawn it up, forgot one Formality, of which the Chancellor du Prat made his advantage af∣terwards, convincing 'em of ignorance, in things which they had been studying all their life time. The Dutchess of Beaujeu had given 'em leave to insert the most favourable clauses that could be for Monpensier; and they thought they had se∣cur'd his Interests, and stretch'd 'em as far as humane Prudence could have done, by making the marry'd Couple to exchange a mutual Deed of Gift to each other, of all their Lands, Rights and Pretensions of what nature soever. Never∣theless, they never minded that the Bride want∣ed two or three Months of being of Age to en∣gage her Estates; and that for a supply of that defect, as to what regarded the Civil executi∣ons; they were, as it behov'd,'em, to obtain a Sentence. This neglect was afterwards laid to their charge; but they excus'd themselves, by saying, that they foresaw the difficulty, but that they did not mind it, because, that in Marriages contracted in France, the King's Presence was a Salvo for the defects of all Conditions, as the Bishops Presence made good all Ecclesiastical Contracts.

The Countess of Angoulên••e was so much the more incens'd at these precipitated Nuptials, because she had so much the less time to cross 'em: and she made extraordinary efforts upon her self to curh her Passion. But when she

thought she had reason sufficient to exchange her Love for Hatred, she made choice of the Duke of Alençon, the First Prince of the Blood, to be the instrument of her Revenge, believing him fit enough to second her designs, because he was particularly concern'd in the Affair; Mademoi∣selle de Bourbon having been promis'd him be∣fore Monpensier sought her in Marriage. So that in point of Honour, with which the Court of France was at that time highly prepossess'd, he was to look upon Mompensier, as one that had injur'd him in the most sensible part, by marry∣ing his affianc'd Lady, before he had ask'd whe∣ther he persisted in his design to espouse her.

Thô these Reasons, upon which the Countess built her hopes, had a foundation solid enough, yet they produc'd not that effect which she expected. For besides that the Duke of Alençon was not a person to engage in a Quarrel with Mompensier, he was overjoy'd at the Match, which others thought it behov'd him to be of∣fended at. In a word, after he had been design∣ed to Mademoiselle de Bourbon, while she was yet in her Cradle, he had been in love with Made∣moiselle de Angouleme, the Countess's Daughter; thó he durst not discover his Passion, for fear of provoking the Princes of Bourbon, who were extreamly nice in the punctilio's of Honour, and all were very stout. But the obstacle being re∣mov'd, he thought of seeking Mademoiselle d' An∣gouleme in marriage, when her Mother came and offer'd her to him. He accepted the proffer with joy, and promis'd whatever she would have

him to undertake to the prejudice of Monpen∣sier: foreseeing, that otherwise the Countess would never have made use of all the Authority which Nature and Law had given her over her Daughter, to perswade her to a Match, against which, she had always testify'd a reluctancy.

But after the Nuptials were over, the Duke of Alençon did not think it so proper to adven∣ture his Person to content his Mother-in-law; and by good luck, which he ne'er expected, he was never sollicited to accomplsh his promise. For the Countess, who had not well sounded her Thoughts, when she exacted that condition, was not long before she perceiv'd, that she had still a kindness for Mompensier, and that she was de∣ceiv'd in taking the rancour, under which it lay conceal'd, for the quenching of her Passion. Her in∣clination was not exempt from the destiny com∣mon to violent things, that redouble their ef∣forts, proportionably to the resistance which they meet with, seeing that she lov'd Mompen∣sier so much the more vehemently, by how much the less she saw her self in a condition to be be∣lov'd. So that she observ'd no bounds in refe∣rence to the Favours which lay in her power to procure him; and the first thing that she deman∣ded for him of her Son, so soon as he came to the Crown, was the Constables Sword. The new King, altogether young, and without experi∣ence, made some scruple at it, and excus'd him∣self, by reason of the danger of committing all the Forces of the Kingdom into the hands of a Prince, who would soon be able to overturn it,

if his Ambition were answerable to his Birth and Deserts. But the importunities of the Countess, and the ascendant she had over her Son, prevail'd above his Reason. And that which was most extravagant in this conjuncture, was, that the King suffer'd himself to be over-rul'd, when his Mother told him, that if he intended to merit not only the esteem, but the admiration of his new Subjects, it was of great importance to him, to let 'em see, that he had neither the Pusilla∣nimity, nor the want of Courage of his four Predecessors, that durst not trust the Sword in the hands of the Princes of the Blood, for fear they should afterwards stand in awe of 'em.

Monpensier was no sooner Constable, but he repented his being rais'd to that Dignity. His Wife was brought to bed of a Daughter; and the King did him the Honour to go to Chantilly, and be Godfather to his Child He was receiv'd by five hundred Gentlemen, holding by Fealty of the House of Bourbon, clad in blew Velvet, with Gold Chains about their Necks consist∣ing of there rows, and rarely well hors'd. But this superfluity was far exceeded by the Luxury of Feasting, Tournaments, Balls and Masquerades; insomuch, that the King return'd home stimulated with jealousie, as if the Constable had pretended to dispute the point of Magnificence with him.

This his Majesties displeasure broke forth in his march to Valenciennes, where the Duke of Alençon most earnestly desir'd his Mother-in-law, to procure the Command of the Vanguard for him, threat'ning to leave the Army if he did

not obtain it: for, that being the First Prince of the Blood, he could no longer obey a second, without prejudice to his Quality, and redring himself contemptible to the French, of whom he might be one day Master before the Constable.

His reason was easily answer'd; but he was otherwise so unfortunate, that he might well de∣serve to have his real discontents appeas'd by a shadow of Honour that was not to last above four or five hours. His Wife, who was the most witty Woman of her Age, could not find in her heart to love him, as well for his ill Qualities, both of Body and Mind, as for that she was constrain'd to marry him, after she had been so ambitious as to pretend to the Prince of Spain.

This same disagreement between Man and Wife, with which the Countess of Angoulême was well acquainted, moy'd her so much the more, be∣cause she had been the occasion of it. There∣fore to make amends for the mischief she had done, as much as lay within her Power, she begg'd of the King to let his Brother-in-law lead the Vanguard; which pretension of the Countess was grounded upon two Reasons: One, because the Constable would not be much concern'd at it, the King not being resolv'd to give battel; and the Other, for that the Duke of Alençon, would have no more then the name of Chieftain, all Orders being to be given out by the Mar∣shal de Chatillon, who serv'd under him with the Title of Lieutenant-General. But she was de∣ceiv'd in the first of her conjectures. For the Constable was as much concern'd, that they should

go about to set up another, to execute the most noble function of his Office, as if they had ta∣ken the Sword from him: and then it was, that in the first transports of his resentment, he let fall some words that reflected upon the Ho∣nour of the Countess of Angoulême. So many persons heard 'em, that the Countess had im∣mediate notice of what was said, and in regard her Continency was that of which she princi∣pally boasted, thô she had been a Widow Se∣venteen Years, she could not bear that the per∣son whom she lov'd above all the World, should tax her of a criminal weakness, without seeking all the ways to hate him, that Reason and Re∣venge could infuse into her. But whither it were that the affront she had receiv'd was not so vio∣lent, as her despite to see her Lover espouse ano∣ther person: or whither it were, that all things which ought to have abated her Love, contri∣buted to augment it, she could not forbear loving the Constable, notwithstanding his ingra∣titude; in like manner, as the seeing him mar∣ry'd could not stifle her passion before; it so fal∣ing out in Love, as upon the Sea, that sometimes we discern some rays of hope through the most gloomy and dismal Tempests.

In May 1522. The Constables Wife dy'd in Childbed, leaving no Children behind her. Of which the Chancellor du Prat being inform'd, immediately went to the Countess of Angouleme with a Congratulation, that Heaven had now open'd her a way to enforce the Constable to es∣pouse her Interest, since he refus'd to do it out

of his own inclination. Then he told her, that she was the next Heiress to the Deceas'd, in re∣gard the Constables Lady was the Daughter of Peter of Bourbon, and the Countess was the Daughter of that Dukes Sister. Whence he concluded, that he was in hopes to invest the succession in her, by finding a flaw in the Constables Contract of Marriage, and the an∣cient entail of the House of Bourbon.

That which induc'd the Chancellor to act in this manner, was not so much his desire to please the Countess, thô he let slip no opportunity to do it, as to revenge himself upon the Constable for refusing him the accommodation of a piece of Land, that lay near his House of Verrieres, where he was born, in Auvergne. However the Coun∣tess return'd him thanks, as much as if she had been beholding to him for the felicity which she expected all the remainder of her Life. The Chancellor undertook to furnish her with such Memoirs, as were requisite for drawing up the process. But the Countess before she began, resolv'd to make her last tryal upon the Consta∣ble's inclinations. And she grounded her resolu∣tions upon this, that she knew the Constable na∣turally lov'd Wealth, and a thrifty manner of expence; thô he were, magnificent upon occa∣sions that requir'd Pomp and splendor; and for that having marry'd to get an Estate, he might be induc'd to a second Wedlock, to pre∣serve his Riches. To this purpose she employd the Admiral de Bonnivet: But she knew not that he was the most improper person she could have

made choice of, to carry on her design with suc∣cess, tho' he had all the qualities requisite, most delicately to negotiate an affair of that nature. There were therefore two reasons, which ought to have oblig'd the Countess to have cast her Eye upon some other person, had she known so much. The one was, that he was in love with the Dutchess of Alençon, her Daughter, and that the virtue of that Princess, instead of van∣quishing his passion, by putting him quite out of all hope had caus'd him to commit those follies, which in truth had no success, but for which, neither the excess of his Love, nor the quality of a favourite, ought to have procur'd a pardon, had not the King been more kind to him, then he was just to his Sister. So that the Kings indul∣gence to him had cover'd his passion, but had not extinguish'd it; and in regard he was per∣fectly acquainted with the delicacy of the Con∣stable, he well foresaw, that if that Prince mar∣ry'd the Countess, he would absolutely forbid him the Dutchess of Alençon's company. The other reason was, that Bonnivet, as he was the King's favourite, labour'd nothing more then the Constables disgrace, that he might afterwards have the command of the Armies. So that twas no business of his to employ his cares in advanc∣ing the reputation of that Prince, and fixing him at Court, by assisting him to Marry the King's Mother. But the Countess who was ignorant of all these circumstances, open'd her Heart to Bon∣nivet, with an entire confidence, concealing no∣thing from him of her most secret thoughts.

Nevertheless it was not the perfidiousness of the Negotiator, that was the principal obstacle to her design; for that another, more faithful, might have had no better success. Besides, that the Constable was so convinc'd of the Justice of his cause, that he did but laugh at whatever they said. On the otherside, the Queen had signifi'd to him her wishes, that he would Marry Renê of France, her Sister. A Prin∣cess that was Mistress of all the advantages of a sublime Wit, for want of the graces of her body, and whose Estate was very large, in regard, a third part of the Free lands of the House of Bretaigne, belong'd to her. The Constable there∣fore prepossess'd with those hopes, sent away Bonnivet with a flat denyal; so that the Countess of Ang••ulême, who could not dive into the rea∣son, gave the Chancellor leave to set the Suit on foot in her name, and try her title to the succession of Bourbon.

Monthelon, a famous advocate, pleaded the Constables cause, with so much strength of ar∣gument, that the King thought him worthy to be keeper of the Seals. Poyet spoke for the Countefs of Angoulême, and thô his Plea were neither so strong nor so solid as the former, yet he dazl'd the greatest part of the Judges; whi∣ther they were propossess'd by the Chancellor, who had furnish'd that Advocate with imaginary Nullities, or whither they were afraid of offend∣ing the head of the Law by not favouring the party for whom they saw him sollicite with so much heat; or whither he had promis'd to re∣imburse

'em the twelve hundred Crowns, which they had paid for their places.

Nor had they delay'd to pronounce sentence, but at the sollicitation of the Countess of An∣gouléme, who was willing to gain time, to make her last efforts upon the Constable, to perswade him to marry her. She laid before him, by the friends she had in Parliament, that his case was deplorable, and that he would make himself the poorest Prince in Europe. But those two consi∣derations did but augment his hatred of her, and perhaps it was but only the more to incense her, that he begg'd leave of the King to court Reué, of France, his Sister in law.

The denyal which His Majesty gave him, could not be more civil then it was; and it may be said, that if Francis I. did second his Mothers desires, as unjust as they were, he did it in such a manner, that nothing could be imputed to him; since it look't, as if the obstacle proceeded whol∣ly from the Princess René, who, as she said, could not find in her Heart to marry a Man, from whom they were going to take away his Estate. The Constable however dissembl'd his resent∣ment, and for some time was in such a quan∣dary, as made the Countess believe, it would not be amiss to give him another Attack. To that purpose she sent Bonnivet to build upon the Land, that went by his name, a stately Ca∣stle, in a place so near to Chastelraut, which be∣long'd to the Constable, that it commanded it. Bonnivet most joyfully obey'd, and the Constable afterwards acknowledg'd, that he never was so

much concern'd at any thing, as at the boldness of that Favourite, who to brave him, had rais'd a kind of Cittadel upon a sief that held of him∣self. So that the Constable not being able to brook so many affronts, bent an Ear to the pro∣posals which the Emperor made him by Adrian de Croy, Count of Rieux, first Gentleman of his Chamber, to embrace his party. That same Envoy cross'd all France, in the disguise of a Country-man, and arriv'd by Night at Chantilli, where he was lodg'd in an apartment adjoyning to the Constable's, and where he concluded the Treaty which afterwards prov'd so pernicious to France.

But in regard, that Rieux's power was only express'd in general terms, and for that the Con∣stable had reason to fear lest the Emperor should disown his Minister, he sent privately into Spain, La Mothe des Noyers, to procure a ratification of the Treaty from the Emperor. While the Con∣stable staid for the return of his Agent, the Dew∣ager of Bourbon, instigated by her hatred of the Countess os Angouléme, and her grief to see her Son in law, despoyl'd of his Fortune, came to him at Chantilli, and told him that she was come to do him the Office of a real Mother, by dis∣covering to him an infallible way to recover the lost condition of his affairs. Which Consisted in this, that Lewis XI. when he marry'd his Daugh∣ter to the youngest Son of the Duke of Bour∣bon, had contracted by an instrument drawn up in due form, thô it lay conceal'd, that in case the Princess surviv'd her Brother in law and her

Husband, and had no Children, she should inhe∣rit all their Lands. Whence it follow'd, that if the Countess of Angoulême agreed to that Act, she must deprive her self of the succession to which she pretended; or if she disputed it, she would be no less disappointed, since she had no way to withstand it, but by the entail of the House of Bourbon, which would restore the Con∣stable to all his rights. The Dowager added, and made it appear by authentick papers, which she deliver'd into the Constables hands, that she had disingag'd with her own Money the greatest part of the Lands belonging to the House of Bourbon, and that the rest were so mortgag'd for her Dowry, and for performance of Cove∣nants, that thô the succession were adjudg'd to the Countess of Angoulême, she would be con∣strain'd to quit it, as being more burthensome then profitable, by reason of the vast Sums which she must pay before she could enjoy it. The same Dowager after that, made a deed of gift to her Son in law of all her Estate, without any distinction or reservation, investing him in all her rights.

The Constable was so much the more surpriz'd at the generosity of his Mother in law, because it was a thing that he so little expected. How∣ever, he still persisted in his design of performing his Treaty with the Emperor; whither it were that he foresaw that his Adversaries, should they be depriv'd of the succession by a contrary sen∣tence, would make use of the King's Authority, to preserve themselves in it: or that he thought

himself so guilty, that he could not avoid Death if what he had concluded with the Count of Ri∣eux, should come to be known. After La Mothe had brought him back the ratification from Charles V. he hid it under ground in a little Box at the Root of a Tree, and sent away the great∣est part of his Friends under pretence of accom∣panying the King beyond the Alps; but his pro∣ject did not succeed. For Matignon and d'Ar∣gouges, going to confession at Easter, discover'd to the Curat of their Country, that they had been tampring in a Conspiracy against the King; the Curate enjoyn'd 'em to reveal it to the King, and to lead 'em the way; immediately took Horse himself to inform Brez••, the grand Seneschal of Normandy, what the Gentlemen had confess'd. Who giving themselves over for lost, took post, and overtaking the King at St. Pierre le Moutier, threw themselves at his Feet, and obtain'd their pardon, by giving an exact Accompt upon Oath of the Constables Negotiation with the Empe∣ror.

The King was advis'd to arrest the Constable, and confine him to a place of security, till his return; but he chose rather to reclaim him by gentle means. To that purpose he gave him a visit at Moulins, where he feign'd himself Sick, not so much out of a design to deceive His Ma∣jesty, as to discover his real sentiments; the hor∣ror of his crime, having already shaken him to that degree, that he resolv'd to perform nothing of the Treaty concluded with the Emperor, pro∣vided the process against him, might be suspend∣ed.

'Tis presum'd, the King would have given him that satisfaction, had he known his thoughts; but he was of opinion, he had gone farr enough in telling him, after he had commanded all the company to withdraw, that he was fully inform'd of his Negotiation with the Count of Rieux, and the reason of La Mothe des Noyers's going into Spain; that they were two great crimes, however that he made no doubt, but that the Constable was instigated to do what he did, out of a despite of which he would repent so soon as he knew what he would do for him. The King added, by way of explanation, that he could not hinder his Mother from prosecuting her suit, but withall he offer'd him to give him all requisite security, for the restitution of what∣ever should be taken from him by the decree.

But this proposal, as generous as it was, did not please the Constable for two reasons. First, because it gave the Countess of Angoulême all the advantage she could pretend to over him: and next, because there was no judicial means by which he could be restor'd during the Life of that Princess, without offending her; and it was a base thing to be still wishing for her Death; till when, he must remain depriv'd of all his Estate. Nevertheless he confess'd to the King what he was no longer in a condition to de∣ny, and applauded the rare impartiality of his Majesty, who rather chose to preserve a se∣cond Prince of the Blood, then to take the ad∣vantage of an inheritance, wherein himself was concern'd. With that the King believing he had

won him, embrac'd him, swore to him, that he had bury'd his crime in Oblivion, desir'd him to mind the recovery of his Health, and told him that he was going to Lyon, where his presence was necessary to hasten away his Men, and that he would stay for him there. The Constable promis'd him to come in his Litter, and to that purpose was actually upon the Road. But at Pa∣lisse, he receiv'd advice, that the Parliament of Paris, at the secret sollicitations of the Chancel∣lor, had order'd that all the Estate of the House of Bourbon should be sequester'd, till the suit was fully decided.

The Constable being by this means disabl'd to do any farther service, feign'd that his distemper increas'd upon him, insomuch that he could not endure the easy motion of the Litter, and ad∣dressing himself to Varry, who as he verily be∣liev'd, was left with him as a Spy, under pre∣tence of bearing him company, conjur'd him to go to the King, and let him know the weakness of his condition. Varry durst not refuse what he requested, for fear of rendering himself sus∣pected to the Constable; but so soon as he was out of sight, the Constable return'd to Chantilli, from whence he dispatch'd the Bishop of Auntun to the Court, with Assurances, written and sign'd with his own hand, that if they would can∣cel the decree of Parliament, and grant him a Pardon in due form, for what he had done against the State, he would for the future serve the King with the same fidelity, as he had done before the King's Mother threw him into des∣pair.

But before Varry and the Bishops were arriv'd at Lyon, the Countess being inform'd by her Emissaries about the Constable, that he was return'd to Chantilli, and mistrusting that it was in order either to make his escape, or begin a Civil War, press'd so hard upon the King, that he sent the Bastard of Savoy, and Marshal Cha∣banes, with four hundred Lances, and four thou∣sand Foot, to Besiege him in Chantilli, and seize upon his person.

The Bastard and the Marshal advanc'd with so much haste that they met the Bish∣op of Autun at la Pacaudiere, [year 1525] which is not above two Leagues from Palisse, and took him Prisoner: but one of his Servants escaping, rode full speed to inform the Constable of what had befallen his Master. Who judging by the seizure of the Bishop, that there was no longer any trusting to the Court, immediately departed with the small train he had, and march'd all Night to get to Herman, a place in Ʋpper Auvergne, of which Henry Arnauld, a Gentleman of his Family was Governor. He arriv'd there by break of Day, September 8, 1525, and caus'd his Train to rest themselves. And when his own People were fast a Sleep, he went himself and wak'd Pompe∣ran, and Montaignac d' Estansannes, and told 'em he was going i••to Burgundy, and wanted one of 'em to accompany him in his flight, and the other to favour and countenance it. Pomperan, was beholding to him for his Life, after he had kill'd in a Duel Amboise Chisay, the most fa∣mous galant in the Court: he made his escape

by the Constables assistance, and the safe Con∣voy that he gave him, and afterwards obtain'd his Pardon.

Estansannes was a near Confident of the Con∣stables, nor did any thing pass between him and the Dowager, or any Forreigners, but what was ei∣ther written or sign'd with his hand: and in re∣gard, it was more dangerous to stay with the Train, then to follow the Constable, the dispute between those two Gentlemen was, which of the two should remain behind, and chance of lot de∣cided the business, in favour of Estansannes. He was vigorous and capable of enduring a long fa∣tigue, thô he were near Fourscore Years of Age. He had all along oppos'd the Constables design, accusing la Moth des Noyers, and the Bishop of Autune for having seduc'd him to his prejudice. Nor did he serve him but very unwillingly in a Negotiation, the unlucky consequences of which he foresaw. He was nevertheless over perswaded to counterfeit himself to be the Constable, and to lie in his Bed till two hours before Day; at what time he departed from Herman by Torch∣light, clad in his Masters Cloaths, and mounted up∣on his Horse, at the head of his retinue. He con∣tinu'd to act this part, till finding that Daylight would discover him, he stop'd, and told his Com∣panions with Tears in his Eyes, ••at the Consta∣ble was gone, excusing him to 'em as well as he could, and then taking his leave of 'em. After that, he rode on alone by himself, and taking through all the by ways, got to the Castle of Puyguillon, in Bourbonnois, where he stayd fifteen Days, and

shaving his Beard which he wore as long as his Hair, cross'd the Country of Burgundy▪ disguis'd in the habit of a Priest; from whence the Constable sent for him to give him the Govern∣ment of the Castle of Milan.

The Constable had taken the same Road, ac∣compani'd by Pomperan, without any other precaution but what Arnauld gave him, which was to Travel with his Horses sho'd the wrong way. Which advice cost Arnauld dear; for the Bastard of Savoy, and Chabanes, who had in vain pursu'd the Constable, being inform'd of it, went to the Farrier, who sho'd the Horses, con∣strain'd him to confess the truth, rode away to Arnauld's House, because he had followed the Constable, and plunder'd it. In the mean time, the Constable got without any stop to Dole, from whence he pass'd into Italy, and visited the Marquis of Mantua. I shall not here repeat the unhappy consequences of his revolt, which are more proper for a general History, then the A∣mours of the Countess of Angoulême. Who af∣ter she had occasion'd the taking of her Son Pri∣soner, out of the jealousy of her Ambition, con∣tributed not a little to the Tragical end of his Mistress.

The Countess of Chasteau-Brian, finding her self expos'd to the hatred of that Princess, who was left Rege•••• in the King's absence, knew not where to shelter her self. The eldest of her Brothers was confin'd in Guyenne. The Second was slain at the Battel of Pavla. And the Third had lost his Liberty and Life in the recovery of

Navarr. So that finding there was no retiring for her among her own Friends, she was forc'd to return home to Chasteau-Brian. Her Husband receiv'd her, thô after a very odd manner; yet so as to put her in hopes that she might appease him in time.

He refus'd to see her, and shut her up in a Chamber, which seem'd to be design'd for Pen∣nance, as being hung all with Mourning. He gave his Daughter, by this time Seventeen Years of Age, leave to Eat with her; nor could he forbear looking upon her somtimes after Dinner, from a place where she could not see him; and comparing the growing Beauty of the one, with that of the other, which was in the height of its perfection. This usage lasted not above six Weeks, because the Daughter liv'd no longer: and now the Count, not having any longer be∣fore his Eyes, the only beloved object that Day∣ly begg'd the t'others Pardon, thought of no∣thing more but his Revenge. To which purpose, he enter'd his Wives Chamber with Six Men in disguise, and two Chirurgeons, who open'd the Veins in her Feet and Legs, and so left her to Bleed to Death. The King upon his return was all for making examples of the guilty, but a new Amour soon blotted out the remembrance of the first.

Nor was the Count forgetful of his own safety in the excesses to which his jealousy had tran∣sported him: for he prevented the prosecutions of justice, by a voluntary exile, and liv'd in For∣reign Countries so long as the House of Foix was

in a condition to prosecute him. At length he address'd himself to the Constable Montmorency, who was become a greater Favourite then before, by the Death of Bonnivet, and Monchenu, who shar'd with him in the King's good will. The Count offer'd him a deed of gift of his Royalty, provided he could get him out of his Troubles, and Montmorency chose rather to purchase Chaste∣au-Brian by that means, then by a Confiscation, which would have engag'd him in perpetual quarrels, which the House of Laval, from whence the Count was decended. Some Critiques have pretended, that M. de Varillas, from whom I drew these Memoirs, was ill inform'd; and that the Countess of Chasteau-Brian was reconcil'd to her Husband, and that she did not Die till ten Years after the King's return. But these objecti∣ons are so well answer'd, that I am convinc'd of the Countess's tragical end; so that I made no scruple to follow that famous Historian, word for word.

No sooner was Francis I. deliver'd out of the hands of the Spaniards, bat he re-enter'd into a new imprisonment; which thô more easie and pleasant, yet was do less dangerous. The Coun∣tess of Angoulême going to meet him as far as Mont de Marsan, carry'd along with her, the young Ann de Pisseleu, who was call'd Made∣moiselle de Hellé, who was entertain'd as a Maid of Honour, into the Houshold of that Princess. The King found her so amiable, that he was not able to defend his liberty against her Charms. He marry'd her in a short time to the Duke d' Estam∣pes,

who conniv'd at her conduct; neither willing to approve it, for fear of injuring his Reputation; nor to condemn her, lest he should bring himself into trouble. The Dutchess find∣ing her self at liberty to make the best of her good fortune to please the King, ne'er minded any longer the avoiding any occasion that might advance her prosperity. She had got so much experience at Court, as to know that the most dangerous Rock that the King's Mistresses could hazard their Fortune against, was to quarrel with the Favourites or Ministers, who having often the Prince's Ear, may take the advantage of certain moments of disgust, and petty fallings out between Lovers, to exasperate 'em, and per∣swade 'em to an absolute Rupture. This con∣sideration, made her resolve to unite Interests with the Constable Montmorency, the Admiral Chabot, and the Chancellor du Prat, who, by the Authority of their Imployments, and by the King's Indulgence, had got possession of the prime Ministry. Those three Officers, very obligingly corresponded with the first move∣ments which the Duchess made toward the Quadruple League; well knowing, that notwith∣standing the Greatness of their Credit, yet it might be shaken, if the King's Mistress under∣stood how to make the best of those Favoura∣ble Minutes, when a Lover can deny nothing to the person upon whom he doats.

This correspondence between these four Per∣sons prov'd successful, during the remainder of time that the Chancellor liv'd; because that

cunning Minister, by his experience and diligence, provided so well for all the exigencies of the State, that the Favourites had no other care upon 'em, but to divertise their Master. But after his death, the Council wanting a Director, the Constable and the Admiral, who took no heed to instruct themselves, appear'd such No∣vices in the Government, that the King was con∣strain'd to call up the President Poyet. He was one of the most able Magistrates in the King∣dom; and his Capacity was equally the same, to manage, as well great as small Affairs, only his Genius led him rather to put things into con∣fusion, then bring 'em to a final end. So soon as he had taken his place in the Council, he propos'd the removal of the two Favourites, that only serv'd to fill up the number; because the haughtiness of the first was become insupport∣able to him, and he fear'd the resentment of the second, by reason of a Suit of great conse∣quence, wherein he had caus'd him to be over∣thrown. Fortune seem'd to favour his Designs; for the King disgusted at the ill success of his Enterprizes, had it put into his Head, that he might justify his ill Conduct to posterity, if he laid the blame of it upon his Favourites, and that their downfal would render 'em guilty of all the false steps which he had trode in the pub∣lick management of Affairs. The Admiral was the first that was to feel the effects of his ill hu∣mour, thô he were in friendship vvith the Dutch∣ess of Estampes. They who did not dive into the King's more secret Thoughts, ascrib'd the

Fall of Chabot to his imprudence, which had hinder'd his Majesty from utterly despoiling the Duke of Savoy of his Territories. The King in∣trusted Poyet, whom he had invested in the Of∣fice of Chancellor, with his Indignation against the Admiral, and consulted with him the best way to proceed against him, in due form of Law. The Chancellor was overjoy'd to find the King so well dispos'd to favour his designs, and made him those Proposals that gave him great satisfaction. Nevertheless, because he stood in awe of the Dutchess d' Estampes's Anger, whose Power he well knew, he sought the Protection of Diana of Poictiers, Wife to the Seneschal of Normandy, and the Dauphin's Mistress.

That Lady was the Daughter of John of Poicti∣ers, Lord of St. Valliere, who had preferr'd her very young to the Countess of Angouléme: after which, she was advanc'd to the service of Queen Claudia, as one of her Maids of Honour. Nei∣ther was St. Valliere deceiv'd in his design of get∣ting some Protection at Court, through the pow∣er of his Daughter's Charms: for it may be said, that she sav'd his Life by the secret Engines that she set at work. St. Vallier had had a hand in the revolt of the Constable of Bourbon, and the misfortune to be apprehended. For which he had been Arraign'd, and was condemn'd to lose his Head. Diana was so astonish'd when she heard the news, that she thought her self ob∣lig'd to do her utmost to save her Father from such a threatning danger. Thereupon, she went and threw her self at the King's Feet, all in Tears,

and begg'd pardon for him, to whom she was beholding for her Life. And she appear'd to the King in that deplorable condition, so amiable, and so charming, that she obtain'd whatever she desir'd, and infus'd Love into his Heart, un∣der the mask of Pity. She preserv'd her Con∣quest till the King's fatal march into Italy, and he endeavour'd to conceal his Infidelity from the Countess of Chateau-Brian, for whom he had always a great respect. We have already said, that at his return, he was so enamour'd of Ma∣demoiselle d' Helle, that she wholly possess'd his Heart, and render'd him insensible to all the other Ladies of the Court; Diana, who had been marry'd a long time before to Lewis de Brezé, Seneschal of Normandy, endeavour'd to comfort her self for that same change of the King's Affection, with the marks of kindness which the Dauphin shew'd her, whose Inclina∣tions she understood so well how to manage, that he continu'd faithful to her till death. But thô she had reason enough to be satisfy'd with this victory, yet she could never pardon Madam d' Estampes for stealing the King's Heart from her, and conceiv'd such a mortal hatred against her, that she never fail'd of giving the proofs of it upon all occasions that presented them∣selves.

Poyet, who was acquainted with all these things, believ'd that he could not make choice of a better support; and in regard she was no less glad to have the Head of the Law on her side, the League was soon made. The Chan∣cellor,

after he had taken these Precautions, gave the King such positive assurances of ruining the Admiral in due form of Law, that he caus'd him to be arrested, and sent him to Bois de Vincenues: and Poyet immiediately drew up the Interrogatories, upon which he was to be ex∣amin'd. Nor was there any need of any great subtilty in the matter, for that the Admiral an∣swer'd after such a manner, as did himself the great∣est injury. And in regard, he made his defence more like a brave Soldier, then a cunning Lawyer, he confess'd the very things that condemn'd him, believing 'em to be service able to his justification. Nor did he speak exactly the language of the Seamen, which was only understood by the Ma∣riners at that time; nor was he sufficiently in∣form'd of the difference between the Priviledges belonging to the Admiral, and those which the Laws reserv'd to the King. The Chancellor therefore, that he might make the best of these three defects, perswaded the King to chuse Com∣missioners out of all the Parlaments of the King∣dom, to decide the Process, and to take the par∣ticular cognizance of it from the Parlament of Paris, the natural judge of Affairs of the Crown, as the Admiral's business was.

They who were made choice of, were so de∣voted to the Chancellor, that there was no que∣stion to be made, but they would regulate their Suffrages according to the Chancellor's Instru∣ctions; and had he been contented with that precaution, the Admiral would have been con∣demn'd, and no body should have known who

had been the most active Agent in his ruin. But nothing would serve the Chancellor, but to put himself at the head of the Commissioners; of which the Admiral had no sooner knowledge, but excepted against him. It is hardly to be be∣liev'd that Poyet should be ignorant that his Dig∣nity exempted him, as well from the Exception, as from the Reproaches that attended it. Ne∣vertheless, if we consider his Conduct at that time, it lookt as if he understood not the Pri∣viledge that belong'd to his Office. To ward off this blow, which broke all his measures, he had recourse to an Artifice, the malignity of which had never been practis'd in a Court, where there was some decorum still observ'd in matter of Probitie. He was assur'd that the im∣prisonment of the Admiral had allarm'd the Dutchess and the Constable, who could not chuse but be apprehensive of the same usage in a lit∣tle time, and that the consideration of their own, rather then of the danger of their Friend, would incite 'em to leave nothing omitted which they deem'd requisite to save his Life. There∣fore he order'd his Agents neatly to insinuate it into their Heads, that it was no less his interest then theirs, to preserve the Admiral, and that the change which had happen'd in the Council, threaten'd with the same disgrace, all those who had the Honour to be admitted into it. Never∣theless, that the mischief was not so great as it might be imagin'd to be, since the Chancellour was not excluded from the number of the Com∣missioners; that be had taken all the precautions

which the Law had taught him, to prevent the Judgment from extending it self either to natural or civil Death; but that he had understood with equal sentiments of Vexation and pity, that the Admiral had not a worse Enemy then his own self: that of necessity it must be concluded, that either the fear of Death had depriv'd him of his judgment, or that the Councel assign'd him of were false to him, since he talk'd of refusing the Head of the Law, and the only Friend that he had remaining among the Judges: that his pre∣tence for excepting against him, grounded upon the loss of his Suit, was ridiculous; in regard that besides that the business in controversy, was but a trifle; 'twas so long while ago, and there had been such a change in the face of affairs since that, that the Admiral had no more reason to bear it in remembrance, then two grave Old Gen∣tlemen might have to mistrust one of another, because, that in their Infancy they had quarrel'd about a Pin. This comparison as mean as it was, made 'em so clearly apprehensive of the difference between Poyet, a Counsellor in Parli∣ament only, and the same Poyet, a Chancellor and Minister of State, that the Dutchess and the Constable suffer'd themselves to be surpriz'd, They were dazled with the false hopes which the Chancellor gave 'em, and communicated their mistake to the Admiral, while they thought to un-hood wink his Eyes. So that they oblig'd him to desist from his exception, and the Chan∣cellor by that means being become Master of the process, by the consent of the parties, promis'd

to himself that he should be able to manage it as the King pleas'd.

A Man would have thought there was nothing now that could have prevented the ruin of Cha∣bot, after his Friends had so stupidly fallen into the snare that was laid for 'em, when the King unwilling to take away the life of a favourite, for a crime which he did not believe him guilty of, signifi'd to the Chancellor, that he would be content with a decree that might only punish the Admiral with the loss of all that he had acquir'd. The sentence then was pronounc'd with all the for∣mality that could be, and the King after he had made use of Poyets Ministry, to shew a great example of severity, was no less desirous imme∣diately after, of his own free will, and without communicating his thoughts to any body, to make manifest as great an example of his clemency: doubtless that he might improve the value of his Mercy, and cause the Dutchess to set a high∣er price upon the favour which he was resolv'd to do at her request. For he did not only re∣store the Admiral to his employment, and his Government of Poitou, but he order'd the Pro∣cess to be review'd, and a Declaration to be made by way of Interpretation of the Edict, that that same Officer of the Crown had neither been convicted of Treason nor Treachery.

After the Restoration of the Admiral, the Triumvirate recover'd it's former Authority, and it was thought that nothing could have bro∣ken the Union between those three Persons, when the Constable, through his own imprudence

drew upon himself, a misfortune from which he could never retreive him self, during the Reign, of Francis I. and if he return'd to Court in the following Reign, 'twas no longer to second the designs of the Dutchess's d'Estampes; for he took part with her Rivaless, and marry'd his Son to the Daughter of that Lady, the Widow of Horatio Farnese, of which more in due place.

The Emperor had desir'd of the King of France, free passage through his Coun∣try, [year 1539] to punish the Gaulois, who were revolted against him, and offr'd the investiture of the Dutchy of Milan to the Duke of Orleance, his second Son. The Constable was for giving the Emperor leave to cross the Kingdom, provided that before he enter'd, he confirm'd in writing the promise which the Commissioners had made, and that to that effect, some person of Qua∣lity might be sent to meet his Imperial Majesty under pretence of doing him the more Honour, but indeed, to get that Writing from him in due form. The Cardinal of Tournon was of a con∣trary opinion, but tho supported with reasons so solid, that they seem'd to be beyond all re∣ply, yet it was not follow'd. And as the Con∣stable in speaking, had more regard to the Idea that prepossess'd him, then to the Truth, so did the King also give his judgment, rather according to his own inclination, which had turn'd his Eyes toward Milan, then with a prospect of the King∣doms welfare.

Not was the Constable contented to have turn'd the balance on his side, his vanity was

such, that nothing would serve him, but to be made choice of for the person, that was to go and meet the Emperor, and receive him upon the Frontiers; nor would the vain glory of so ho∣nourable a Commission, let him see the dangers that attended it. He met the Emperor beyond the River of Bidassoa, and press'd him accord∣ing to his Instructions, to grant before hand the investiture of the Dutchy of Milan, to the Duke of Orleans, who, together with the Dauphin, stay'd for his Imperial Majesty on the otherside of the River.

The Emperor who had his answer ready, ca∣ress'd the Constable after an extraordinary man∣ner, and declar'd to him, that he would wholly refer it to him, and rely upon what he should advise him to do. Which done, he entrusted him with a Counterseit secret, feigning to dis∣cover to him the bottom of his Heart, and lest nothing omitted to convince the Constable that he was resolv'd at last to satisfy the King. He added that all the scruple lay in the time, and that he did not stand so much upon preserving his own Reputation, as the credit of Francis I. for that as his most Christian Majesty chiefly af∣fected to appear generous, it would be the great∣est injury that could be done him in the World, should his Honour be Ecclips'd, by giving all Europe a pretence to presume that he had not permitted, but sold the Emperor a passage. Which they would not fail to give out, if the investiture should be given before the passage was granted. Whereas if the leave were permitted

nobly and without conditions, he gave his Im∣perial word, that he would cause the Instru∣ment of the investiture to be dispatch'd in the first City of the Low-Countries; with a preamble no less to the Honour of his Brother-in-Law, then his own: because it should contain, that the kind entertainment that he had given him in France, and the Friendship that he had-shewn him, had engag'd him to acknowledge such sig∣nal favours by a present no less magnificent then was the Dutchy of Milan-

The Emperor, upon the score of his promise, was regal'd from Bayonne, to Chatelraut, whither the King was advanc'd to receive him; never∣theless when Francis I. understood the snare, in∣to which the Constable was fallen, he was dissa∣tisfi'd with his Negotiation, and, was just upon the point of pursuing the Counsel that had been given him, to seize upon the Emperors person, under plausible pretences, till he had put the Duke of Orleans in full possession of the Dutchy of Milan. Le Peloux, a French Gentleman, who had put himself into the Emperors Service, gave him notice of it; who judging the danger so much the more inevitable, by how much People are apt to believe as soon what they fear, as what they wish for and desire, he revolv'd in his mind, all the expedients that the most accom∣plish'd subtil••y could furnish him withal, and and found none better, then that of a surprizing liberality. The Lady whom he feard most, was the Dutchess d'Estampes, who solely govern'd the King, and had quitted her association with

the Constable ever since the understood that he held correspondence with the Sene∣schal's Wife, to the end he might have the protection of a person near the Dauphin, when he came to the Crown. These two Ladies had had a terrible falling out, during Montmorenci's journey, and upon his return he was oblig'd to choose his side in the quarrel. The occasion of the quarrel was, that the Dutchess should say, that she was born the same Day that the Sene∣schal's Wife was marry'd. Which villanous re∣proach of Old Age, so hainously offended the person whom it concern'd, that it was impossible to pacify her. The Constable after he had in vain employ'd all his credit, declar'd for the she Seneschal: whither it were, that he prefer'd the rising before the Setting-Sun, or that he thought his Fortune so firmly settl'd with the King, that nothing could shake it. But his fore∣sight was not true on bothsides, for that in for∣saking the Dutchess he incens'd a revengeful Woman, who had too much Wit to omit the first opportunity she met with, to hasten his ruin. In a word, she had approv'd the advice which the Cardinal of Tournon gave, and peal'd continually in the King's Ears, that His Majesty would become the object of publick raillery, if he suffer'd himself to be so cheated and deluded. Whither the Emperor were inform'd or no, of these particulars, is not so certainly known, but he acted after such a manner, as if he had per∣fectly understood 'em. One Day that he was washing his hands with the King before Dinner,

and that the Dutchess prereated 'em the Tow∣el, he let fall a Jewel enrich'd with a Diamond of great value: presently the Dutchess took it up, and would have return'd it, but the Empe∣ror told her with a graceful and pleasant aspect, which he could put on when he pleas'd, that he never envy'd the present that Fortune had made to so charming a person; that the Ring belong'd to her by an inviolable Law, of the Empire, which was so far from permitting the Emperors to take back again what had fallen from their hands, how great so e'er the value of it were, that he ordain'd it to remain with the person, that should find it, as a testimony of the Adventure. 'Twas no difficult thing to find out the place from whence this Law was taken, nor to bring examples to justify that it had been in use. The Dutchess therefore made use of all her alluring language to perswade the Emperor to receive the Jewel back again, and the King press'd him withal the civility that could be ima∣gin'd. But the Emperor, who had too well be∣gun his artifice to leave it off imperfect, per∣sisted so obstinately in his resolution that the Jewel should remain with the Dutchess, that the King was constrain'd to let her keep it.

The effect of this Jewel was, that the Dutchess, who wanted no Wit, reflecting upon the Empe∣rors courtship, and upon his suttlety, to make her accept of a magnificent present at the only conjuncture, wherein the King could consent to her acceptance of it, found her self engag'd to defer her revenge upon the Constable, for fear

least the disgrace of that Favourite, should re∣flect upon a Prince so liberal as the Emperor. The Court remov'd afterwards to Paris, where his Imperial Majesty staid only so long as was necessary to give the King some time to empty his Coffers by a supersluous magnificence. From thence he went to Chantilli, where the Consta∣ble treated him in his turn. The King also con∣ducted the Emperor as far as St. Quentin, and commanded the Dauphin and the Duke of Or∣leans to accompany him as far as Valenciennes.

A Man would hardly believe the caresses which the Emperor bestow'd upon the Youngest of those two Princes, under pretence of his being charm'd with his pleasant humour. He treated him like one that was to be his Son-in-Law, and put him in hopes that the fief of Milan was not the only favour which he was to expect. After the Emperor was got within his own territories, the Constable and the Bishop of Vabres, the French Ambassador, demanded Audience, and prest him to perform his promise. The Empe∣ror durst not disgust 'em at first, because the King might succor the Inhabitants of Gaunt, and therefore he only return'd 'em for answer, that the King of the Romans his Brother, was upon the road for Flanders, and that it was necessary to stay for his arrival, to the end there might remain no dispute about the investiture, which he had promis'd without acquainting him who was to succeed in the Empire, with his design. The Constable upon that, return'd to the King his Master, but the Bishop of Vabres who fol∣ow'd

the Emperor, continu'd his importunities so vigorously, that he constrain'd him at last to pull off his Maske, and to disown all that he had said to the Constable.

The King, so much the more nettl'd at this piece of Infidelity, by how much it equally con∣cern'd both his Honour and his Interests, ac∣knowledg'd his fault in not demanding a writing, from the Emperor: and because there is nothing so usual, as for Princes to lay the blame of their own mis-failings upon others, when they have the least pretence; he complain'd of his being deceiv'd, for no other reason but that he might have an occasion to punish the Constable, whom he upbraided with all the faults he had commit∣ted; he confin'd him to his House of Chentilly; and people made no question but the Dutchess d'Estampes was the cause of his Disgrace. And the proof of what was alledg'd was grounded upon this, that the Dauphin, after he had made use of all his power to support his Gossip, for so he call'd the Constable, not only could not pre∣vail with the King, but drew upon himself severe Reprimands, which he thought he no way de∣serv'd.

[year 1540] Nor was the Constable the only person upon whom the Dutchess's wrath fell hea∣vy; for the Chancellor Poyet felt those effects of it, which were much more violent, The pre∣tence that she took to ruin him, was occasion'd by John du Tillet, chief Prothonotary of the Par∣liament of Paris, and John de la Renaudy, Gen∣tleman

of Perigord, who was afterwards the Principal Author of the Civil Wars of France. The credit of the Parties, or the difficulties of the Questions that were to be decided, had re∣mov'd the Affair to several Tribunals, from whence it was summon'd to be heard before the Council, and at last transmitted to the Parlia∣ment of Dijon. La Renaudie, fearing lest he should be overthrown, obtain'd the King's Let∣ters, by the favour of the Dutchess d'Estampes, whom he had engag'd in his Interests, to delay giving Sentence, that he might have time to per∣plex the Cause anew. Gilbert Bayard the King's Secretary, presented the Letters to the Seal, and fail'd not to advertise the Chancellor, that it was by his Majesties express Order, who could not refuse that Favour, upon the sollicitations of the Dutchess d'Estampes. 'Tis not known whe∣ther the Chancellour examin'd those Letters, to the end he might acquit himself in his Office, like a person of Sincerity; or whether it were out of any secret reluctancy, to follow the Captici∣o's of the Dutchess, with a blind adherency; or whether it were that he favour'd du Tillet's Cause; but certain it is, that he refus'd to seal the Letters, till he had alter'd 'em in several places. La Renaudie, not finding 'em then fit for his purpose, carry'd 'em to the Dutchess, not a little already incens'd against the Chancellor, since the Admirals arraignment, and quicken'd her to Revenge, under pretence of maintaining her Honour. Nor did she delay it any longer then the Evening of the same day, at what time

she presented la Renaudie, holding the Letters in his hand, to the King, as he rose from the Ta∣ble. That Gentleman, naturally eloquent, as he made it afterwards appear in the conspiracy of Amboise, aggravated the importance of the words which the Chancellor had alter'd, and endea∣vour'd to exasperate the King against him, by reason of that opposition which he adventur'd to make aginst his absolute Power. The King, who for a long time had had a desire to disgrace the Chancellor, could not have met with a more plausible pretence. He was hated by all the Court and it was well known that no body would be sorry for him nevertheless, for im∣portant Reasons his downfal was delaid. The King only order'd La Renaudie to carry back the Letters to the Chancellor, and to command him peremptorily in his Name, to dispatch 'em with∣out any qualifications. La Renaudie return'd to Poyet, and deliver'd his Message with an arrogant Tone, in the presence of the Queen of Navarr, who at the same time solicited for a Servant of hers, who was convicted for having stoll'n a wealthy Heiress. The Chancellor was too haugh∣ty, patiently to endure, that a Country Gen∣tleman should put a kind of affront upon him in his own House, and before a Princess, whose Esteem it concern'd him to preserve. But in regard he durst not refuse to obey the second Order, not to give the bearer ill language, he took the Letters from Renaudie, and shewing 'em to the Queen of Navarr, See here, Madame, said he, what the Ladies do at the Court, they are

not contented to exercise their Empire, but they undertake to violate the Laws, and to instruct the Magistrates, the most accomplish'd in the exercise of their Offices. Now thô the Chancellor aim'd in his Discourse, at no body but the Dutchess, yet it happen'd unluckily for him, that the Queen of Navarr thought her self nipp'd by the severity of his short Satyr, by reason that the terms were equivocal, and might as well be apply'd to her sollicitations, in behalfe of her Servant, as to the constraint that was put upon him to Seal la Renaudie's Letters. However, she did not discover all her Resentment, for fear of quarrelling with one of the King her Bro∣ther's Officers, only made him answer, That she was too much concern'd in the misfortune of which he complain'd, to procure him any repa∣ration, since she could not right her self. But she was no sooner gone out of the Chancellor's House, but she went to the Dutchess, and gave her an account of the chafe that Poyet was in; nor did she leave her, till they had concerted both to∣gether, which way to put him quite out of the King's Favour. 'Twas no difficult thing for those two Ladies, who had shar'd between 'em, the Love and Friendship of that Prince, to make him consent to abandon a Man, whom he had a design already to be rid of; immediately there∣fore his Majesty sent for the Seals, which he gave to Francis de Manthelon, President of the Parliament, no less famous for his Integrity, then for his vigorous Defence of the Constable of Bourbon's Cause, when he was an Advocate. Nor

would the King permit so signal an action to go unrewarded, and had therefore advanc'd him to one of the principle Dignities of the Gown, thô he had not displai'd his Eloquence, but for pleading against the Countess of Angouléme his Mother. But the Queen Of Navarr and the Dutchess were too much exasperat••d against the Chancellor, to be satisfy'd with a punishment, which only suspended him from the execution of his Office. They had sufficiently penetrated into his Intreagues, to be convinc'd, that if he had his liberty, he would infallibly refix himself at Court; or if that way fail'd him, such a con∣juncture might happen, that some exigency of Affairs might constrain the King to send for him to come and take his place in Council. It behov'd 'em then to disable him from waiting for such an opportunity; and the two Ladies to bring about their design, form'd a Faction a∣gainst him, consisting of the Principal Persons of the Court, not excepting Queen Eleonor, who made one, thô she had resolv'd, not to meddle with any thing, more especially, when there was a War in agitation against the Emperor her Bro∣ther. People were a long time searching after the reason of this change in the Queens Mind, and the speculative Persons imagin'd they had made the discovery, which was this; She had liv'd in France as it were in exile, and she had little acqaintance in the Country: She had suffer'd much from the Dutchess d' Estampes, who left her no share in the King's Affection; and as an accumulation to her discontent, she

was neither able to revenge her self, nor to better her own condition. Nor had her mis∣fortune mov'd any of the Courtiers, but only the Constable Montmorency, who had assist∣ed her out of Love, as her Enemies reported, or out of pity, which was most probable. She knew that the Chancellor Poyet had contributed to the Chancellors disgrace; and her stomaching of that, was sufficient to oblige her to side with a Party, which gave her the opportunity to be reveng'd of the one, and to contribute to the restauration of the other.

The Dauphin appear'd at the Head of the Chancellor's Enemies, that he might give Montmorency, in his retirement to Chantilly, the consolation to understand, that he who had been the instrument to remove him from the Court, was himself banisht from thence without any hopes of returning thither again. The King of Navarr joyn'd meerly, out of complacence to his Wife: The Count of St. Paul, out of a cer∣tain antipathy, which sometimes happens between the Princes of the Blood and the Chief Mini∣sters: The Admiral Chabot, that he might have the satisfaction of seeing his Enemy fall into the snare which he had laid for him: Mompezat, in hatred of the Counterpoise which the Chancel∣lor gave to his Favour: And the Cardinal of Tournon, and Marshal d' Annhauit, that they might remain alone in the Council of State. All these Persons had made so powerful a combina∣tion, that the King was unable to withstand it any longer. They peal'd in his Ears, how dan∣gerous

a thing it was to let a Lion live in a con∣dition to hurt him, after he had once provok'd him. That the Chancellor had in his hands all the Deeds and Instruments of the Crown, and that his Majesty had trusted him with his most important Secrets, which Poyet might render useless, by revealing 'em to the Emperor, and by his perfidiousness, procure himself a publick Settlement as considerable in Spain, as he lost in France. Whence they concluded, that there was a necessity of confining him to a place of secu∣rity, and to watch him so narrowly, that it, might not be in his power to do any mischief, thô he should design it.

The King rather weari'd with the frequent repetition of these Reasons, then convinc'd by the strength of 'em, gave order, at his going to Bed to Lewis de Nevers, to Arrest the Chancel∣lor, and carry him to the Tower of Bourges. Nevers discharg'd himself of his Commission, with as much joy as a Man could be sensible of, who reveng'd the Publick upon his own particu∣lar Enemy. He beset his House with armed Soldiers, he waken'd him with a terrible noise, and signify'd the King's Order in expressions full of nipping raillerie; he would hardly give him time to put on his Cloaths, nor would he per∣mit him to go into his Study, nor to speak to any body, but carry'd him away in all haste to the Tower of Bourges.

Nor was this alteration of Fortune so surpri∣zing, as that which appear'd in the Soul of the Chancellor. They who had known him for the

boldest and most superb among. Men, before his fall, could not sufficiently admire his abject pusillanimity and cowardize in his imprisonment. He tir'd both his Friends and his Enemies with unseasonable complaints, and ridiculous entrea∣ties, and left nothing omitted which he thought might inspire compassion into the Ladies that he had offended, and made use of his liberty to ex∣ercise his Pen, which was at length allow'd him to beg of the King, the Cardinal of Tournon, and Admiral Chabot, to redeem his Life and Li∣berty at the price of the vast Wealth which he had acquir'd. Nothing more manifestly prov'd him unworthy of his high fortune, then his ex∣tream desire to survive his disgrace. His carriage quite chang'd that fear and aversion which People had against his Person, into a contempt which was no way advantageous to him; seeing that they left him for some years in the Tower of Bourges, without so much as thinking of him. At ength he was so importunate with the Ministers of State, that they order'd him to be brought to his Tri∣al, but not after such a method as he expected. For they appointed Commissioners to try him, chosen out of all the Parliaments of the Kingdom. However, they did him this justice, to make choice of the most able and the most honest: Nor were there ever in France any Judges, whose Probitie and Abilities were more universally known, then those of Peter Raymund, President of the Parliament of Rouen, who was order'd to draw up the Informations. They were willing to give him that satisfaction; whether it were that his

enemies thought that they had more proo••s then they needed to ruin him, or that the King who had no mind to pardon him, as he had for∣given Admiral Chabot had taken all the precautions requisite to prevent any thing that might be spo∣ken against the severity which he intended to inflict upon the chief Magistrate of the Kingdom. However it were, the Process lasted till the year 1545. because the Party accus'd finding himself abandon'd by all the world, and ready to sink unrder the same Artifices, with which he had oppress'd others, made use of all the tricks that long experience had taught him, and summon'd up all his cunning, and his parts to defend him∣self. He led his Judges through all the by-paths of Subterfuge and Evasion that Cavil could in∣vent, to elude, or at least to delay his Condem∣nation. He puzzl'd alike both his Judges and his Witnesses that were brought Face to Face against him; and made so good a defence that he sav'd his Life; whither it were that his Judges after a long debate, did not find reasons enough to condemn him to Death, or that the too open animosity of the prosecutors, had in∣fus'd compassion into those Magistrats, by per∣swading 'em he was Innocent, because his Ene∣mies were so violent in seeking his ruin. He heard, bare-Headed, the Decree pronounc'd that depriv'd him of his Dignities and Estate, and confin'd him to perpetual Imprisonment, for having Rob'd the Treasury, fold Offices, and traffick'd in several bargains, misbecoming his quality. The King surpriz'd at the mildness of

the Decree, could nor forbear testifying his re∣sentment against the Judges, and threw upon 'em those reproaches that extended even to accusa∣tions of being corrupted. However his Majesty remitted the punishment of Imprisonment, and Poyet was constrain'd for a Livelyhood, to resume his first employment of Chamber-Counsellor in the Palace; deeming himself happy, that he had got himself out of the Bryars at any rate, be∣fore Judges of approv'd integrity; for that in∣deed there was as many persons convinc'd that he deserv'd Death, as there were People that knew him.

The Dutchess d' Estampes after she had ruin'd all those that dar'd to obstruct her credit, [year 1587] seem'd to fear nothing but the Death of the King, which was the only disturbance of her mind. For thô the Duke d' Estampes her Husband, had made a judicial enquiry into her behaviour since her Marriage, yet she was well assur'd that he could make no use of it, so long as the King liv'd: however he was not immortal, and the time would come when that cruel separation would happen. The Dutchess also to her sor∣row, beheld the misfortune at a distrance, and was sensible of the approaches of it. For Francis I. decay'd insensibly in his Health; and whither it were that his Physicians were ignorant of the true cause of his disease, or whither they durst not discover it; or whither they despair'd that His Majesty would submit to violent Remedies, which could only correct the malignity of it, they only put a stop in some measure to the out∣ward

effects, which were most incommodious, with∣out ever going to the root of the Disease. So that the King perceiving himself grow more un∣weildy every Day then other, and loosing that vigour and Address which had formerly been the cause that he delighted, with so much passion, in the sports of Hunting and other laborious exer∣cises, liv'd a kind of morose Life, of which the Dutchess was forc'd to bear all the inconveni∣encies; at the same time, that on the otherside, she was afflicted and disturb'd to think what would become of her after the King's Death, who in all probability could not be long Liv'd.

She was in some hopes of reassuming that place in her Husbands affection, from whence jealousy had expel'd her, in regard she was yet young, and was the Mistress still of that same ravishing Beauty, which had formerly charm'd him. Nor was it unlikely, but that compassion might overrule her Husbands Heart, after the King's death had extinguish'd the cause of his jealousy, by producing these effects therein, which are expected from Love. However it were, Diana of Normandy's hatred seem'd to be much more formidable to her: she was to be what she her self had been, and it was to be pre∣sum'd that she would make use of all her credit to ruin her Enemy.

Diana was the Dauphin's Mistress, as the Dutchess was the King's, but there was no other resemblance between 'em, either in their persons, or their Wit. The Dutchess was never more Beautiful then she was at that time, nor had she

lost any thing of that lustre, which had caus'd her to be look'd upon by the most curious Eyes, even by the Emperor himself, as the most ac∣complish'd Beauty in Europe, whereas the she-Seneschal had none of those Allurements, which at one and twenty Years of Age, had sav'd the Life of her Father Sr. Valier. The Dutchess was not above thirty, and the she Seneschal was suspected to be above threescore; for she had caus'd her name to be torn out of the Register of the Christ'nings. The Dutchess commanded naturally, Diana of Poictiers by art, and those different Empires were preserv'd by opposite means. The Dutchess, who fear'd not her be∣ing degraded, till the King began to decay in his health, stood less upon her guard, and never laid any constraint upon her self, when she spoke of Diana; whereas the other conceal'd under feign'd demonstrations of respect and com∣pliance the despite to see her self contemn'd; and was in company when that terrible expression fell from the Dutchess's Lips, that she was born the same Day that the Seneschal's Wife was marry'd. Nevertheless she dissembled her re∣sentment so long as the King was strong and lusty, but she no sooner perceiv'd that His Ma∣jesty began to decline, but she began to make the Dutchess sensible, that the time of her re∣venge was drawing on. The Dutchess being oblig'd by this ill usage to reflect upon the irre∣gularity of her Tongue, was so much the more af••aid of the effects of Diana's hatred, by how much the less she was in a condition to avoidx'em.

For instead of managing to her advantage the Duke d' Estampes her Husband, whose humour insensible and little subject to the pleasures of Love, might have been amus'd by slight marks of the King's liberality and vain employments, provided he had receiv'd 'em when he stood in need of 'em; she had displeas'd him to that de∣gree, as to incense him beyond the bounds of de∣cency, out of the strangest capricio's, that ever jealousy infus'd, to publish his own dishonour by a judicial enquiry into the behaviour of his Wife, as we have already said. This way of proceeding put the Dutchess out of all hopes of ever returning to her Husband, and reduc'd her to that misery, that the Seneschal's Wife, after the King's Death, made use of the jealous Duke, as an instrument to torment her, till her revenge was fully satiated.

These inducements of terror that could not be either more powerful nor more probably grounded, oblig'd the Dutchess to seek out for an expedient to secure her from the impending storm. And that which seem'd to her to be best and the most easie altogether, was to shroud her self under the Duke of Orleance's protection, and to set up a faction at Court so powerful in his favour, as to equal that which Diana had form'd for the Dauphin. The Dutches's aim was to seek for some great establishment for the Duke of Orleance without the Kingdom, where she might find that repose and security, which she stood in need of. Nor was there any other esta∣blishment which he could pretend to, then what

the Emperor had so many times propos'd, which was the investiture of the Dutchy of Milan, or the Low Countries, upon two conditions. The one was, that he should marry the Emperors Daughters, or his Niece. The other was, to prevent the Reunion of what ever should be giv∣en in favour of either of these two Matches, to the Crown of France. All the difficulty lay in the last Condition, to which the pretended ste∣rility of the Dauphiness, was an invincible ob∣stacle That Princess had been marry'd ten Years, yet never had any signs of a great Belly: and let the cause be what it would, from whence the defect proceeded, the Duke of Orleance would be ne'er the less presumptive Heir to the Crown, nor by consequence less capable, in the Empe∣rors judgment, to hold the fiefs of Milan, and the Low Countries. Fernelius the Physitian af∣ter he had sounded the Dauphinesses temper, took a fancy that he could cure her indisposition, and whither it were, that the Physick that he gave her wrought effectually, or that his secret consisted only in revealing to the Dauphin, the particular minutes wherein his Wife was most capable to conceive; the whole Court perceiv'd in a few Months after, that the Dauphiness was big with Child.

The Dutchess's surprizing joy upon the news would not allow her so much liberty of thought at first, as to know the advantages that she might draw from thence, but afterwards she order'd the Emperor to be sounded, whether he had any mind to engage the Duke of Orleans to his In∣terests,

or no. He that was entrusted with a Commission so nice as this, had all the qualities sufficient to begin so great an affair, but not those that were proper to bring it to a conclusion. He was of the Illustrious House of Longueval, and Count of B••ssu, and he had insinuated himself into the friendship of the Dutchess, by the care which he took to improve her Estate, and give her notice of such opportunities, as offer'd themselves to encrease it, by begging vacant gratifications of the King. And in regard, he had Lands in the Low Countries, as well as in Picardy, he might without being suspected, hold a correspondence in both Provinces. He had both Wit and Address, Resolution and Reserv∣edness, but he was extreamly felt interested, and in regard he had a greater Estate in Flanders, then in France; that which he mainly aim'd at, was to establish himself in the first of those Coun∣tries, where his posterity afterwards fix'd them∣selves, and grew numerous.

This inducement made him accept of the Or∣der to negotiate for the Dutchess; because it would render him more considerable to the House of Austria; and the Emperor overjoy'd to see so potent a faction among his Enemies that sought to correspond with him, look't upon this conjuncture, as a favour that Fortune offer'd him for the resettlement of his affairs in the Low-Countries. He assur'd the Dutchess that he would give the Duke of Orleance the Duthy of Milan with his Niece, or the Low-Countries with his Daughter: and for sear she should

mistrust he would deceive her, because he grant∣ed her demand so soon, and so readily; he add∣ed that he reserv'd to himself the choice of the alternative, and that he would not be oblig'd to explain himself, nor to perform his promise, till he should have made an agreement with the King; that is to say, till he should reap all the effects of that friendship which the Dutchess and her faction could procure him, for those remote pro∣mises, the performance of which, depended up∣on his sincerity.

The Count of Bossu had understanding suffici∣ent to perceive, that the Engagement was not reciprocal, but he shut his Eyes: and the Dutchess, from whom the Allurement of a retreating place, took away the sight of the Serpent that lay under the flowers, perform'd her part in forming so strict a League with the Emperor, that nothing past either at the Court, or in the Council of France, which was not immediatly conveigh'd to his knowledge. In short, the first Letter that he receiv'd by the Counts means, did him so signal a piece of service, that it sav'd both his person and his whole Army. And the Emperor knew so well to make his advantage of the intelligence that she gave him, that he re∣duc'd France within two Fingers breadth of utter ruin. But Fortune having balanc'd his first suc∣cesses, the Dutchess took an occasion from thence to manage a peace between the two Crowns.

The reciprocal fears, of Francis I. and Charles V. were the foundation of a new intreague be∣tween Queen Elenor's and the Emperors Con∣fessors,

both of 'em Dominican Fryars. The first was cal'd Diegos Chiavez, and the second Gabriel de Gusman. Chiavez by virtue of a pri∣vate Order which he conceal'd, wrote to Gusman, as if he had pretended only to impart to him a thought that was come into his Head, that the greatest good they could do both the one and the other, was to try, whither Divine Providence would make use of 'em, as Instruments to confound the Wisdom of Men, by employing 'em to make that Peace which so many great personages could not conclude. Gusman presently apprehended what lay conceal'd in his Brothers Letter, and shew'd it to Queen Eleonor.

The Queen held a correspondence with the Dutchess d' Estampes, because not having any Issue by the King, she expected to be sent back, so soon as she should be a Widow: and conse∣quently she took no other care but to deserve a favourable reception from the Emperor her Bro∣ther, when she should return to reside with him, by doing him good Service in an Enemies Court, whither she had been banish'd under the specious pretence of Matrimony. Gusman and the two Ladies labour'd so successfully with Francis I. that that they caus'd him to patch up a Peace very advantageous to the Emperor, and to sacrifice to the expectation of an imaginary Alliance, se∣veral considerable places which enlarg'd the Em∣perors Frontiers, and secur'd 'em in such a man∣ner, that for a long time there was no danger on that side. 'Tis true, that the course which the Dauphin took in causing the Constable to be re∣call'd,

and putting him at the head of the Ar∣my, contributed not a little to make the King resolve upon a Peace out of his aversion to the chief Officer of the Crown. But the Death of the Duke of Orleans, which happen'd some time after, disingag'd the Emperor from his promise, at a time when he saw himself oblig'd in pursu∣ance of the Treaty of Crepi, to resolve upon the giving him his Daughter with the Low-Coun∣tries, or his Niece with the Dutchy of Milan. In the mean time Francis I after he had spun out his Distemper in several places, felt his Feaver ga∣ther such strength upon him, at Rambouille••, that he could not reach St. Germains, where he thought to repose himself: so that after he had lain in a languishing condition for some Days, in that House, he gave up the Ghost, leaving the Sene∣schal of Normandy's Wife in full power to exe∣cute her premeditated revenge upon the Dutchess d' Estampes, by means of her Ascendant over the new King.

The Intreagues of the Court of France, under the Reign of Henry II.

THE Face of the Court was wholly chang'd after the Death of Francis I. The Cardi∣nal of Tournon, and Marshal d' Annebaut, who had the supream management of affairs, under the preceeding Reign, were turn'd out of the Council, and ••he Constable who was recal'd

from his Exile, was admitted in their Room, Francis, Count of Aumale, who was Duke of Guise after the Death of his Father, and James d' Albon St. Andrè, were the King's Favourites. But the chief Authority remain'd in the hands of Diana of Poictiers, the Widow of Lewis de Brezé, Seneschal of Normandy, who was made Dutchess of Valentiuois, The Dutchess d' Estam∣pes fearing the effects of her Enemies revenge, retir'd to Ville Martin, a House of pleasure, within a League of the City, which bore the Name of her Dutchy, There she liv'd for some Years in the exercise of the new Religion which she had embrac'd, and to which her example and her Liberality, drew a great number of People of both Sexes.

But thô the Dutchess of Valentinois had rea∣son to be contented with the excess of confidence and affection which the King shew'd her, yet could not she not continue faithful to him. She was charm'd with the goodly presence of Charles de Cosse Brissac: she struggl'd for some time with her sentiments of tenderness for him, and at length not being able to extinguish 'em, after she had consulted her mirror which perswaded her that she had still beauty enough, notwithstanding the alteration that Age had made to her Face, to engage that Lord to comply with her passion, she resolv'd to that purpose, to let him un∣derstand what past in her Hear••. She took an opportunity to do it, when he came to congra∣tulate her upon the removal of Madam d' Estam∣pes. Are your protestations sincere, said she,

and may I be assur'd that you have a real devo∣tion for my person? After he had sworn, that she might put him upon the Tryal, and that he was ready to sacrifice his Life for her Interests, I know, pursu'd she, that the credit I have at Court, engages all those who have any Ambition, to offer me their service; but I require from you more disinterested sentiments: I would have it that you should only Love in me what I hold from nature, without considering what I owe to the King's favours. I shall not be ungrateful; for I will take care of your fortune, provided you let me follow my own inclinations, and wholly confide in me. She accompany'd those words with looks so passionate, that Brissac who was no novice in Love, readily understood that it would be his fault, if he did not enter into a particu∣lar Intreague with the Dutchess. He was in great danger of incurring the King's displeasure, if a familiarity of that nature should come to be discover'd; but more of falling under Diana's indignation, if she found her self contemn'd, after she had met him so far above half the way. Thereupon he never scrupl'd which course to take; and judging it became him not to neglect so fair an opportunity, he made no other an∣swer, then by a most passionate kiss which he imprinted upon one of the Dutchesses hands. 'Tis not known whither Brissac had any real passion for her; or whether he feign'd a true affe∣ction, that he might make the best of her cre∣dit; but certain it is, that they had several meetings. Some time after the Court remov'd

to Chasteau de Chambert which Francis the I. had built. The Dutchess was lodg'd in an Apart∣ment by it self at the end of the Park, whither the King went the next Evening, when all Peo∣ple had left his Chamber, through a Gallery made under Ground, and staid all the Night with her. One Evening that Brissac had tarry'd somwhat later then ordinary, word was brought by some of the Attendants, that they had spi'd a light at the entrance into the Vault, and that most certainly the King was at hand. At which, the Dutchess being alarm'd, presently sent away Brissac, who not far from the separate Apart∣ment met Claude Tais, Grand Master of the Or∣dinance, whether it were upon any Assignation hard by, or whether his musing thoughts had led him so far that way. However it were, he knew Brissac, and mistrusting the occasion of his Nocturnal visit, he accosted him, and jested too close upon him. Brissac no way pleas'd with his discourse, acquainted the Dutchess with it next Day, who presently caus'd the indiscreet Frumper to be discarded, and obtain'd his em∣ployment for her Favourite. Tais knew well from whence his misfortune came, but durst not speak a word of it to any Living Soul, for fear of a worse trouble.

From Chambort the Court remov'd to Joinville, where the Queen was seiz'd with a purple Fea∣ver, which swell'd her Tongue to that decree, that she lost her speech. Immediatly the poor Queen was forsaken by all her Officers, who thought her Disease had been Mortal, nor did

any body remain with her but the Cardinal of Chatillon. The Dutchess was extreamly allarum'd at her being so ill, fearing lest it the Queen should dye, the King would Marry some young Person, whose Charms might ••o•• her of his Affection. But the distemper, which had been so violent at first, was but of short continuance: for that in eight days the Queen was past dan∣ger; and her recovery res••or'd tranquillity of Mind to all that were concern'd in her preser∣vation.

[year 1549] The Chancellor Olivier, because he could not comply with the Dutchess as he ought to have done, to preserve himself in the Ministry, fell into disgrace. Nevertheless, be∣cause they could not deprive him of his Imploy∣ment, without taking away his life, and for that his integrity would not permit 'em to fasten any accusation upon him, the Dutches, to sus∣pend him from the execution of his imploy∣ment, caus'd the King to deliver the Seals into the custody of Commissioners; Bertrand, whom she had already advanc'd to be first President of Paris, and Giles le Maitre a Creature of her own.

And now the Dutchess, to secure her self a Protection, both within and without the King∣dom, marry'd her two Daughters that she had by the King, the eldest who was call'd Diana, to Heratio Farnese Duke of Castro, the youngest Son of Pope Paul III. and the youngest to Claudius of Lorrain, Duke of Aumale. she also procur'd

the Battoon of Marshal of France for Brissae, for, whom she had still the same tenderness.

[year 1556] Pope Paul III, having embroil'd him∣self with Philip II. King of Spain, sent in∣to France Cardinal Car••ffa, his Nephew, to en∣gage King Henry II. in a League against the Spa∣niards. The Affair was debated in Council, where the Duke of Guise maintain'd with great hear, that 'twas requisite to give assistance to his Holiness, with a design to make advantage of it. He was in hopes that by sending Forces into Italy, he might be able to advance his Bro∣ther the Cardinal of Guise to the Pontificate, so soon as the See should become vacant; and in the mean time, to make himself Master of the Kingdom of Naples, which, as he said, belong'd to him, as Heir to the House of Anjou. The Queen upheld his Opinion, in hopes to pro∣cure the Command of the Army for her Kinsman Marshal Frotzi. The Dutchess of Valentinoi••, who was in a strict Union with the Guises, was of the same Opinion; nor durst the Constable Montmoranci oppose her, for fear of displeasing her, and in hopes that the Guises going into Italy, would give him an opportunity in their absence, to fix his Credit more stedfastly at Court. Thus the League with the Pope being resolv'd upon, a numerous Army was rais'd to be sent to the Pope; but Dava••son, the King's Ambassador at Rome, a Creature of the Guises, who was acquainted with this Intreague, ex∣plain'd himself so openly upon it, that the King

who was inform'd of it, alter'd his opinion, for fear of contributing to their ambitious designs. Their credit also receiv'd a kind of check; but they recover'd themselves in a short time, by the marriage which they negotiated between the Dauphin and Mary Stuart Queen of Scotland, their Kinswoman. The Dutchess of Valentinois, who began to grow jealous of their advance∣ment, cross'd this Match as much as in her lay, but not being able to prevent it, resolv'd to unite her self more strictly with the Constable, by marrying her Daughter to his eldest Son; she being now the Duke of Castro's Widow, who was slain at the Siege of Hedin. There was one obstacle in the way which she had much a∣do to surmount: For the young Montmoranci, privately, and without his Father's consent, had marry'd Mademoiselle de Pienne, of the House of Alvin. The Constable sent his Son to Rome in order to get his Marriage declar'd void by the Rota. But Montmoranci, after the Affair had been examin'd at several Sittings, could obtain no definitive Sentence: for the Pope was desirous to make the best of the Dutchess, and to tye her to his Interests, by keeping her in hopes of a favourable Judgment. But the Dutchess, tir'd out with these delays, took a shorter way, obli∣ging the King to make a Law, by which, all Mar∣riages contracted by Infants under Age, with∣out the consent of their Parents, were declar'd void. After this Ordinance was verify'd, upon Montmorancy's averrment, that he never gave his Faith to Madana de Prenne, but upon condition,

that his Father would give his consent, the Par∣lament cancell'd all the Engagements that were between 'em, and then the young Lord marry'd the Dutchess of Castro.

The Guises, seeing that the Dutchess of Valenti∣nois treated 'em but very coldly, and trusted no bo∣dy but the Constable, who was of kin to the Marshal de Brissac, her Favourite, endeavour'd to revenge themselves. The Queen of Scotland had brought along with her into France, Madam Hamilton a kinswoman of hers, who was Mistriss of all the Graces both of Body and Mind. Pre∣sently they spread abroad the fame of her Beau∣ty, and by their Emissaries, cunningly and neat∣ly gave her such frequent commendations in the in the King's Ear, that he, desirous to know whe∣ther her applauders did not flatter her, found so much sweetness, so much life and gaiety in her Conversation, that he could not chuse but love her. He had aleady for some time, taken some disgust against the Dutchess; but she had such an ascendant over him, that he durst not give her the least offence; and he took as much care to conceal from her his Intreague with Madam Hamilton, as if she had been his Wife. Moreover, his new Mistress proving big with Child, he provided for her Lying in, with so much privacy, that no body at Court knew any thing of it. The Prince that she brought into the World, was Christen'd Henry, and under the ensuing Reigns, was Grand Prior of France, and Governor of Provence.

The King that he might shew his activity to Mrs. Hamilton, for whom his Passion was much increas'd, since she had brought him a Son, would needs make one in the Turnaments that were prepar'd in Honour of the Nuptials of Elisa∣beth the King's Daughter, with Philip II. which was a Match concluded in pursuance of the Treaty of Chateau Cambresis. Toward the end of the third Day, which was the 30th. of June, 1559, the King who had already broken seve∣ral Lances with good success, would needs Tilt with his Beaver up, against the Count of Mont∣gomery, the Son of Lorge, Captain of the Guards of his Body. The Count did all be could to ex∣cuse himself, but he was at last constrain'd to obey his Master; and that Course prov'd so unfortu∣nate, that Montgomery's Lance being broken into shivers, the Truncheon that remain'd in his hand, struck the King above the Brow of the right Eye, with that terrible force, that the King fell to the ground, without either Motion or Sense; in which condition they carry'd him to his Bed, and notwithstanding all the remedies they could apply to him for eleven days together that Life remain'd in him, they could never recover his Speech; and in that manner he expir'd.

Intreagues of the Court of France un∣der the Reign of Francis I.

WHen Queen Catherine de Medicis saw that her Husband was mortally wounded,

she consulted with her Confidents whether it were her best way to close with the Constable, or the Guises. For she lookt as well upon the one as the other to be her Enemies, in regard they were equally alli'd to the Dutchess of Va∣lentinois, whom she mortally, hated, thô while the King liv'd, she carry'd it very fair with her. At last she resolv'd to unite with the Guises, be∣cause they were the Queen her Daughter-in-Law's Uncles, and for that, somtime they had carry'd themselves but very coldly toward the Dutchess. The Constable being inform'd of this Union dispatcht a Courrier to Anthony of Bour∣bon, King of Navarr, giving him an invitation to the Court, there to assume the degree and Autho∣rity, which his Birth allow'd him. But the King, who was afraid lest the Spaniards should possess themselves of his Kingdom, during his absence, remain'd in his irresolution so long, that the Queen and the Guises had leisure to form their Cabal, to remove such persons as they suspected, and fill up the principal offices with their own Creatures. The Duke of Guise had the Com∣mand of the Armies, and the Cardinal the ma∣nagement of the Treasury, The Dutchess of Va∣lentinois was banish'd, and forc'd to restore the Jewels and costly moveables that Henry II. had given her, and more then all this, they took from her the noble House of Chenonceaux, which the Queen Mother would neeeds have for her self, giving her in Exchange, the Castle of Chaumont upon the Loire. Bertrandi was depriv'd of the Seals, which were restor'd to the Chan∣cellor

Olivier, and he himself resettl'd as the Head of the Law, in all the functions of his Office. The Constable had Orders to retire to his House of Escouan, and the Cardinal of Tournon was recall'd. The Dutchess of Valentinois made her self amends for her misfortune with Brissac's company, who continued faithful to her, and being reconcil'd to the Guises, prevented her being any farther persecuted. But the King, be∣ing arriv'd at Orleance, after twelve Days Sick∣ness di'd, not without some suspition of be∣ing poyson'd, in the Eighteenth Month of his Reign; which gave occasion to new Intreagues.

The Intreagues of the Court of France under Charles IX.

[year 1560] THere was great bustling and contend∣ing at Court for the Regency, during the Minority of Charles IX. but at last Queen Katherine obtain'd it, and enforc'd the King of Na∣varr, to be contented with the Lieutenancie Gene∣ral of the Kingdom. The Queen Mother was a re∣fin'd Politian, and one who thought she might make use of illegal, as well as legal ways, so she might Reign. She was magnificent in all her actions, and lov'd all manner of divertisements, which she made subservient to her Ambitious de∣signs. During the troubles that turmoyl'd the State, the same Wagons that carry'd the War∣like Ammunition, carry'd the Accoutrements for

Balls and Masquerades. By these Artifices it was that she retain'd the Young Courtiers about her, who finding, in their attendance upon her plea∣sures, conformable to their Ages, and their in∣clinations, and Charm'd with the beauty of her Maids of Honour, generally preferr'd her part before others that were set up in contempt of the Royal Authority. The Court was then di∣vided into two Factions, Huguenots and zealous Catholicks. Lewis Prince of Conde headed the first, and the Guises govern'd the second. The King of Navarr, the Constable, and the Marshal de St. Andrè, seem'd to make a third party, and the Queen's aim was to preserve the Authority, which the Regency gave her, by dividing and balancing these three cabals, in such a manner, that the one should not oppress the other two. The third party, which was usually call'd the Triumvirate, seem'd to her to be most powerful, and she made use of the Dutchess of Valentinois to divide the King of Navarr and the Constable, for fear least being united, they should leave her no more then the shadow of Government. And the Dutchess undertook it so much the more wil∣lingly, because her Interests agreed best with the Queen's She feign'd as if she had suffer'd her self to be over-rul'd by the tears of her eldest Daughter, and the submissions of the Duke of Aumale her Son in Law, to reconcile her self and renew her good correspondence with the House of Guise, which had abandon'd her to the mercy of her Enemies: and the Court took this reunion for an effect of Heroic. Virtue, thaô in∣deed

an indispensable necessity was the only motive that induc'd her to it. The Dutchess had both Wit and experience enough to Judge, that 'twas impossible for her to preserve the vast wealth which she enjoy'd, but by the support of the House of Guise, which was not in a condi∣tion to hold up any long time, but by a recon∣ciliation with the Constable: so that indeed the Dutchess labour'd for her self, while the Queen and the Duke of Aumale fancy'd to themselves, that she acted for them. In a word, she made such effectual use of the Authority which she had still over the Constable, that she accustom'd him by degrees, not to look upon the Guises any lon∣ger, as his Enemies. Thus the Dutchess main∣tain'd her self till she dy'd in the same flourishing condition, wherein Henry II. had left her, no body daring to cross her any more, when they saw her have such potent protectors.

But it was not enough for the Queen to have broken the Triumvirate: it behov'd her also, that she might get all the power into her hands, to fasten to her Interests the two Princes of the House of Bourbon. And in regard she knew that Love was the most powerful engine to move the inclinations of that Age, she made use of the Charms of her Maids of Honour to bring about her design. The two most amiable were, Ma∣demoiselle du Rouet, the Daughter of Lewis de la Berandiere de Guiche, Lord of the Island of Rouet in Poitou, and Mademoiselle de Limueil. The first undertook the Conquest of the King of Navarr, and the second to subdue the Prince

of Condè. To that purpose, M. de Rouet, wherever she came, spoke so highly in praise of the King of Navarr, that she infus'd into him a long desire to knoe who it was that so much oblig'd him with her encomiums in all companies. Mademoiselle de Limueil, on the otherside, said nothing that could reflect upon the reputation of the Prince of Condè, but still she gave out every where, that he should be the last Man that she should make choice of for a Lover: because he was naturally unconstant, and minding no∣thing so much as his Ambition, he could not condescend to those petty complaisancies that more frequently win upon the affections of La∣dies, then great Services. The Prince of Condè, hearing of these discourses, thought himself bound in Honour to undeceive M. de Limueil, and by that means fell into her snare. The Queen at first had govern'd the King of Navarr by the Artifices of the Dutchess of Montpensier, who had such an ascendant over him, that at Court she was call'd nothing but the Syren. The Queen was also beholding to this Dutchess for causing the King to desist from his pretensions to the Regency, and content himself with the shadow of Authority, in accepting the Lieutenancy Ge∣neral of the State, that she might enjoy the sub∣stance. In vain his Friends remonstrated to him, that he should want neither Counsel nor power to force obedience to himself; but the Dutchess of Montpensier's perswasions prevail'd with him, be∣yond all the remonstrances of Mon moranci, Cha∣tillon, the Calvinists, and the more clear sighted

Catholicks. But thó the Queen had been so well serv'd by this Princess, she was afraid lest her Ambition should infuse into her a desire of sharing her Authority. And rather chose to make use of M. de Rouet, with whom the King of Navarr took delight to converse, after she declar'd her self to be so much Charm'd with his Vertues. The King therefore quite tyr'd with the long resistance which the Dutchess's Virtue had made to his desires, thought he might quit her with∣out being accus'd of inconstancy, that he might devote himself to a person, with whom in all probability he should better employ his assiduities and where he should meet with as much Wit and Beauty.

[year 1561] Some time after, Ambition had like to have broken off the intercourses of those two Ladies. For the Catholick King, by Man∣riquez, whom he sent to him on purpose, made a proposal to the King of Navarr, which upon a slight examination only, seem'd very advanta∣geous to him. The substance of it was, that he should put himself at the head of the zealous Ca∣tholicks who were about to banish Calvinism out of France: that he should dissolve his Marriage with Joan d'Albret, under pretence of Heresie, and marry Mary Stuart, the wife of Francis II. who would bring him in Dowrie the Crowns of England, Scotland and Ireland. M. de Roouet, Who was fall'n in love with the King, while she only sought to intangle him in her snares, be∣ing inform'd of this Negotiation by d' Escars,

one of her Favourites, was extreamly allarum'd at it. Thereupon she sought an opportunity to speak in private with the King of Navarr; and having met with one, she never left him, till she had made him promise her to send back Manriquez, without concluding upon any thing.

But thô the King of Navarr were prone enough of himself to do what she desir'd, and that he abhorr'd the proposal of a Divorce, he forbore not however to make M. de Rouet sensible of a valuable Sacrifice which he had made her of the fairest Queen in Europe, and drew a promise from her, that she would not refuse the re∣quests of his Love. So that now there wanted nothing but to find out opportunities, which it was no difficult thing to meet with. For the Court being then at Fontain-bleau, the same Evening he bestow'd a Consort of Violins upon the Ladies near the Caual, and while they were busie in hearkning to the Musick, or else a Dan∣cing, he went aside with M. de Rouet, and ma∣nag'd so well the favourable inclination to which he had prepar'd her, that she became big of a Prince, who was call'd Charles of Bourbon, and afterwards was made Archbishop of Rouen. But the Prince of Coudè had not that great success with M. de Limeuil. For as she had declar'd at first a dislike of that Prince's humour, she was oblig'd to observe certain outward formalities of disdain, and to make shew of an indifferency, which however was far from real, the more to fire her Lover; which was the reason that it was less trouble to her Virtue to hold out so much the longer.

These two Ladies, that liv'd together in per∣fect Union, were not a little troubl'd to see the two Brothers engag'd in different Parties: while the eldest Brother commanded the Catholick, the youngest the Calvinist Army. The King of Navarr being wounded at the Siege of Rouen, was carry'd into the City after it was taken, and was there frequently visited by M. du Rouet, and in regard their conversation was a little too vi∣gorous, the King's wound fester'd to that de∣gree, that it became mortal. The Queen Regent, seeing how little hopes there was of saving his life, admonish'd him to prepare himself for death: he took the advice of that Princess, and re∣nouncing, all of a suddain, his inclinations both to Honour and Pleasure, he admitted no more visits from the Ladies, and declar'd to Chanto∣nay, the Spanish Ambassador, and Brother of Car∣dinal Grandvelle, that he thought no farther of Sardigna, which the King of Spain offer'd him in exchange for Navarr. After he had con∣fess'd himself to the Official of Rouen, and re∣ceiv'd both the Sacraments, he so earnestly de∣sir'd to he carry'd down the River to his House at St. Maur, where the Air was incomparably much better then at Rouen, that they were forc'd to transport him thither, and at first he seem'd to be much better upon the water; but a cold Sweat that seiz'd him at Andilli, enforcing him to make a stop there, he dy'd the 7th of Octob. 1562. in the Two and fortieth year of his age, and deliver'd the Regent from her continual fears, lest he should change his Party. 'Twould

be a difficult thing to express the extream sor∣row that overwhelm'd Mademoiselle de Rouet, for the loss of a Prince whom she dearly lov'd, and by whom she was no less tenderly belov'd, more especially being conscious to her self, that she had contributed to his death.

[year 1563] The next year the Queen Regent found a way to conclude a Peace with the Cal∣vinists, and to draw the Prince of Condè to Court; where he was so well treated, that he forgot for some time his warlike humour. The Honours paid to the deceased King of Navarr, his Brother, to retain him in the Catholick party, were nothing in comparison of those that were conferr'd upon him, to bring him off from Cal∣vinism. He was every Day with the Queen, who heap'd civilities upon him. Nothing of impor∣tance was debated in Council, nor in any other place but in his presence: he generally obtain'd whatever he desir'd, and all occasions of giving him offence were carefully avoided. 'Twas not believ'd however that he suffer'd himself to be amus'd with promises, which he saw frustrated of their principal effect, since they delay'd to give him the Lieutenancy General, of which the Queen had put him in hopes; for fear, as was given out, lest the Catholicks, who were dissa∣tisfi'd with the Peace, should take from thence the pretence they sought for to break it: but Love sided with the party, and seconded the Artifices of the Queen. For the Prince of Con∣de's passion for M. de Limueil was not quite ex∣tinguish'd,

thô it had lain dormant for some time as being benumm'd by the fatigues of the War. The presence of the beloved object, having rows'd his Affection, he apply'd himself afresh to the Lady, and gave her such publick proofs of his tenderness that the Princess his Wife, who could not be ignorant of it, sickn'd of jea∣lousie and Di'd.

The Regent intent upon all occasions that might conduce to confirm her Authority, look't upon this conjuncture as one of the most favou∣rable that could have befallen her. She imagin'd that as the Chatillon's had engag'd the Prince in Heresy, by the Marriage of their Neice, she might also bring him back to the Communion of the Church, by giving him for a second Wife, a Lady that had the Honour to be her kinswo∣man, whose Charms would put a stop to his in∣constancy, and draw from his Lips the secrets of the Calvinists. To this purpose, she commanded the Lady to leave nothing omitted, upon that pre∣supposition, to omit nothing that might contribute to detain the Prince in her Fetters. But to venture an indifferent virtue with a Lover who made use of the smallest advantages in Love, as in War, to carry things to extremity, was to expose it to too many hazards. While the Lady feign'd an Affection for the Prince, she became inamour'd in good earnest; and to her misfortune, she was not the only person at Court, that found her Heart insensibly engag'd.

Margaret de Lustrac the Widow of the Mar∣shal de St. Andrè, was neither of a temper nor

inclination to spend the remainder of her Life in Widowhood; nevertheless, she was engag'd to it in some measure, by signing the Articles of the Marriage of her only Daughter with the Eldest Son of the Duke of Guise; seeing it was chiefly concluded consideration of the great Estate that she possess'd; and for that the Marshal her Husband had been preserv'd from inevitable ruin. However, she was no sooner a Widow but she yielded to the usual temptation of persons of her Quality; so that she laid a design to marry again, and break off the Match between her Daughter and the Prince of Joinville. For which, that she might have a plausible pretence, and with∣al to cover what was irregular in her intentions, she feign'd to seek out a more Honourable alli∣ance for her Daughter, and cast her Eyes upon the Marquiss of Conti, the Eldest Son of the Prince of Conde, with an intent to perswade the less discerning sort of People, that if she mar∣ry'd the Prince, 'twas only to facilitate the union of their Children by her Marriage. But she could not have address'd her self more unluckily, considering how things stood with the Prince at that time. For thô he had not had a kindness for Madam de Limueil; he would have preferr'd a Country Girl before the remains of the Mar∣shal de St Andrè. However he did not explain his thoughts to the persons that propounded his Marriage with the Widow, as the only means to secure to his Son, the Marriage of St. Andrè's Heiress; he only repli'd, that the way did not seem to him to be so infallible, because the Mar∣quess

not being above nine Years of Age, and for that both the Nuptials could not be solem∣niz'd at the same time, the Marshaless, would be as her liberty, when she was become a Prin∣cess to break the Articles between her Daughter and the Marquess, with the same ease as she had broken her Covenants with the Prince of Join∣ville. The Marshaless inform'd of this obstacle, and taking no other advice but that of her own passion, offer'd the Prince a deed of gift of the manner of Valeri in Gatinois, and all the mag∣nificent moveables with which the Marshal of St. Andrè had furnish'd it. 'Twas thought that by this peice of unpararallel'd liberality, she thought to have fix'd that levity of which she was sus∣pected to be guilty, by disabling her self to re∣fuse her Daughter to the Son of a Prince, to whom she would have given beforehand the best part of her Estate; and to have supplanted her Rivaless by the force of her Acts of kindness, since she could not do it by the power of her Charms. The present was accepted, without producing, however, the effect which the Mar∣shalless expected from it: whither it were too great to be refus'd by a Prince, whose birth was nevertheless too spendidly exalted to engage him by the acceptance of it; or whither the Prince blam'd in his own thoughts the prodiga∣lity of the Widow, at the same time that he made a benefit of it.

Mademoiselle de Limueil made reflections re∣mote from Truth upon an accident so rarely hap∣pening. She suppos'd the Prince less amorous

or less concerned then he was; and imagin'd that since he had accepted the signiory of Valleri, he would have marry'd the Marshalless. The suspi∣pition of which encreas'd to that degree, that not having an Estate sufficient to equal the libe∣rality of her Rivalless, she took a fancy to sur∣pass it by granting the Prince the dearest Jewel she had in the World. And her big Belly that soon attended the fault the had committed, made it so publick, that she was forc'd to withdraw from the Court. The Queen caus'd her to be conducted by a Valet de Chambre, whose name was Gentil, to the Convent of Franciscans in the City of Auxonne.

This banishment of M. de Limueil was not the only punishment of her incontinency. For the Prince equally touch'd with disdain as well of a Widow who had aspir'd to an Alliance with him, as of a Young Lady that sought to gain him by an over passionate submission, neglected both the one and the other, to marry Francese of Or∣leance, the Duke of Longuevilles Sister; a haugh∣ty Princess, and of an austere Virtue. Such a difference he put between the dispositions of those Women which he desir'd for his Wives, and those which he sought for his Mistresses. Mademoiselle de Limueil after the was brought to Bed, endeavour'd to repair the loss of her high hopes by marrying Geoffrey de Causac, Lord of Tremon, who had been a long time an humble ser∣vant of hers, but had been neglected by her ever since her Intreague with the Prince of Condè. Nor was Mademoiselle de Rohan better treated

by the Duke of Nemours: she had granted him the same favours, upon a promise of Marriage, in the Reign of Henry II. But the Prince, to avoid the performance of his word, went to serve in Piedmont against the Duke of Savoy; nor did he return into France till the beginning of the Reign of Charles the IX. at which time he threw himself into the Cabal of the Guises; and so frequently visited the Dukes Wife, that he could no longer remain insensible of her Charms. Nevertheless he durst not discover his passion to her, such was the awe that her Virtue had upon him. However in regard it is as difficult a thing to hide Love as to conceal Fire, M de Rohan was inform'd of his infidelity, and resolving re∣venge, she su'd him upon his promise. He pleaded her profession of the pretended Protestant Re∣ligion, and having obtain'd from the Pope a nullity of the Engagements he had made her, He marry'd the Widow of the Duke of Guise, who was Murder'd by Poltrot before Orleance, some Months before.

After Queen Katherine de Medicis had caus'd the majority of her Son to be declar'd by the Parliament of Rouen, all the Court Ladies strove which should most powerfully enthral his Heart; but he delighted more in Hunting and other vio∣lent exercises, then in Courtship and making Love. Nevertheless one Day, Madam de Mont∣pensier taxing him for his insensibility, he swore to her, that if once he went about to turn Co∣quet, he should so harass all the Ladies, that they would repent of having wak'd a sleeping Lyon.

In a word, for some time he lay'd about him to the right and left, without ever engaging him∣self in any Intreagues. But sometime after go∣ing to Orleance, he spy'd a young Virgin, that came out of curiosity to see him at Dinner, and having enquir'd who she was, he learnt that her name was Marie Touchet, an Apothecary's Daughter i'the Town. Thereupon, he commanded la Tour, Master of the Wardrobe to talk to her, and to perswade her to come to his Chamber. La Tour with very little trouble succeeded in his Negotiation, and the next night brought Madam Touchet to the King, who obtain'd of her what∣ever he desir'd, thô she had already engag'd her Affection to Monlue, the Bishop of Valence's Bro∣ther, whom she could not forget neither, what∣ever marks she receiv'd of Charles the Ninths Love. The King requested Madam Margaret his Sister, to entertain her as her waiting Wo∣man, that she might have some pretence to fol∣low the Court. However he was forc'd to take her away from that Lady, when he return'd to Paris, because she prov'd with Child: and he provided so well for her lying Inn, that she was brought to Bed of a Prince, who was call'd Charles by his Father's name, and honour'd with the title of Count of Auvergne. But Madam Touchet for all this, kept a dayly correspondence with Monlue, and frequently receiv'd Billet Douxes from him. The King being inform'd that she had put one of 'em up in her purse, invited a great many Ladies to Supper, of which number was his faithless Mistress. Withal he commanded the Captain

of a Company of Gypsies to bring along with him about a dozen of the most exquisite Cut∣purses he could pick out of the whole gang, to cut all the Ladies purses while they were Eating, and faithfully to bring 'em all to him at his go∣ing to Bed. When the Meat was upon the Ta∣ble, he plac'd Madam Touchet next to himself, for fear she should make away the Billet, which be had a mind to have. The Cutpurses did their business exactly, and la Chambre fail'd not to carry to the King all the booty according to or∣der. The King had no great trouble to distin∣guish his Mistress's purse from the rest, and there∣fore opening it in very great hast, found there the Billet already mention'd. The next Day he shew'd it his disloyal Minioness, who disown'd it was directed to her, because there was no Superscription; bur she could not disavow seve∣ral other things that were in the Purse, together with the Billet; so that having no other course to take, she confest her fault, and beg'd pardon. The King also promis'd to think no more of it, provided she had no more to do with Monlue, and to separate her the more certainly from him, His Majesty Marry'd her to Balzac d'Entragues, Bayliff of Orleance. Some time after, the discourse was very hot, about marrying the King to Elizabeth of Austria, the Emperor Ferdinand's Daughter. Madam d'Entragues, having seen her Picture, consulted her Looking-glass, and then told one of her Maids that stood by her, that 'twas the least of her fears, that ever that Princess would rob her of the King's Affection:

and indeed he lov'd her to his Dying Day, tho' he had a great respect for the Queen his Wife.

The King was extreamly haughty and could not brook the ambition of the Duke of Guise▪ He took it hainously when he understood that the Duke had been so bold as to aspire to Ma∣dam Margaret his Sister, as also to make her a formal Declaration of his Love. So that in the first transports of his wrath, he order'd the Grand Prior, the Son of Hen. II. and Madam Hamilton, to stab the insolent Pretender. Of which, the Duke being inform'd by Madam d'Entragues, avoided the Hunting match, which was appointed on purpose for the execution of the design that was laid against his life. And to let the King know that he was not guilty of the crime that was laid to his charge, by the advice of his Mother, he marry'd Katherine of Cleves, the Widow of Prince Portiano, and by that means asswag'd his Masters anger. In the mean time he endeavour'd to secure to himself the pro∣tection of the Duke of Anjou; and the better to gain his good Will, he offer'd to be service∣able to him in his passion for the Princess of Condè, his Sister-in-law. So violent was the Duke of Anjou's love for that Princess, that he was ve∣ry near refusing the Crown of Poland, as not en∣during a removal from her. However, he endea∣vour'd to cure himself by seeking other diver∣tisements, and made his applications to Madam Chasteau-neuf, one of the Queen Mother's Maids of Honour, who did not long withstand his im∣portunities: and in regard she perceiv'd her self to

be not the sole Mistress of his Heart, she made no scruple to engage her self in an Intreague with Lignerolet, the Duke's Favourite. But Ligneroles, s who devoted himself to her onely out of vanity, was so indiscreet as to boast to his Master of his good Fortune, and receiv'd the punishment which his insolence deserv'd, being stabb'd be Villequier, by the Duke's Order. They who were ignorant of this circumstance, ascrib'd his death to his indiscretion, in talking of the Massacre that was to be made of the Huguenots upon St. Bartholo∣mews day, which his Master had reveal'd to him, but certain it is, that the Duke had no other aim then to punish the Vain-glory of his Favou∣rite. The Duke finding that the Princess of Condè's Virtue was not to be stirr'd, set forward at length for Poland, where they would fain have marry'd him to Ann Jaqueline, the Daughter of the last King. But the news that he receiv'd in a short time after, of the death of Chales IX. oblig'd him to quit his new Subjects, and return into France. The King, at the very last minutes of his life, could not forget Madam d'Entragues; but order'd La Tour to tell her, that nothing griev'd him so much, as that death had snatch'd him from her, before he had done any thing for her to advance her Fortune.

The End of the First Part.

INTEAGUES OF THE Court of FRANCE, Under the Reign of HENRY III. PART II.

* 1.24 NEither Fame nor Absence could extinguish that Love which Henry III. had conceiv'd in his Heart for the Princess of Conde, and in regard he was assur'd that he should not obtain any favour from her, but by lawful means, he endeavour'd to perswade her to consent that he should dissolve his Marriage, under pretence that his Wife was a Here∣tick,

not doubting but he should easily ob∣tain his desires at Rome. The Queen Mother having notice of the King her Son s de∣sign, was extreamly alarum'd at it, afraid, least if the Princess of Conde, who was an Ambitious Woman, and one that had a Ge∣nius above the common sort, should come to be Queen, she would altogether govern the King, and be mistress of all that authority which she had acquir'd in his Councils. There∣fore to send off this blow, she set all the most charming Ladies of the Court at work to inveigle her Sons affections. Mademoiselle de Chateauncuf amus'd him for some time, but was oblig'd to give way to Mademoiselle de E••••o••••f, who neither had the happiness to retain him long fetter'd in her Chains. Ma∣dam de Sauve, the Secretary of States Wi∣dow was she that triumph'd at last over all the Rivalesses: The King gave himself sole∣ly up to Her; but the engagement was not reciprocal, because she lov d the King of Navarr. Their Intreague first began, while Navarr and the Duke of Alenson were Pri∣soners together, and Madam de Sauve was wont to go and bear 'em company, meerly to divert 'em, and alleviate the vexations of their imprisonment. These two Princess fell equally in love with her; but she had not the same kind sentiments for both. She hated the Duke of Alenson, but she made favoura∣able returns to the tender addresses of the King of Navarr. When that Prince was set at

liberty, the interests of the Party that ac∣knowledg'd him for their Head, ob∣liged to absent himself from his Mistress, but his absence nothing abated the Passion which she had kindl'd in his heart, nor did she omit any opportunity to let him understand that she was still the same, when Henry III. began to cast an eye of Favour upon her. But she made no other use of his complacen∣cy, then to second the Queen Mothers de∣sign, which was to revive in his heart that tenderness which he had formerly had for Mademoiselle de Vaudemont, and to perswade him to seat her by him upon the Throne. But this was not all, for 〈◊〉〈◊〉, more powerful reason over-rul'd Madam de Sauve to infuse into him the same sentiments. The Duke of Guise was become an inamor'd Servant of hers, and had insensibly banish'd from his heart the tenderness which he had for the Queen of Navarr; and she thought to do him a great piece of service, by advancing his Kinswoman to that high degree of honour, which would oblige him to love her the more. And the death of the Princess of Con∣de which happen'd about the same time, gave Madam de Sauve a fair opportunity to engage him with Mademoiselle de Vaudemont. The King saw her as he was going to be Crown'd at Rheims, and finding in her face the same Allurements that had formerly charm'd him, he resolv'd at length to marry her.

Francis of Luxemburgh, of the House of

Brienne, had made his addresses to her, be∣fore the Lorrain Princes had any hopes of making her Queen. Henry III. who knew it, had a desire to marry him to Mademoiselle de Chasteauneuf, and whether he thought it be∣came him to take care of the Fortune of a Person whom he had once lov'd, or that he took some kind of Pleasure to change Mi∣stresses with Luxemburgh, he propos'd it to him upon his Coronation Day: To which the Lord made answer, that he had so great a value for whatever concern'd the Queen, that he could but be highly overjoy'd at the advantage which fortune had procur'd her, and that he applauded her for having made so happy a change of her Lover. But in re∣gard there was not so much to be got by him in marrying Mademoiselle de Chasteauneuf, he besought his Majesty to allow him time to consider. The King repli'd, that it was not for him to hesitate upon what he had pro∣propos'd to him, and therefore he expect'd to be forthwith obey'd. Luxemburgh finding himself so vigorously press'd upon, desired eight days to prepare himself, and obtain'd three, which serv'd him to find a way to quit the Court, and retire in a place where he might shelter himself from the King's displeasure. Nor did the King, whose first transports were only to be fear'd, think any more of him▪ after he was once got out of his sight. The pleasures which he tasted in his conversation with the Queen put Luxemburghs

diso∣bedience quite out of his mind: For he had so much complacency for that Princess, that he acted the person of a Lover, rather then of a Husbahd in her company. Now in re∣gard that Age was an Age of Licetiousness, several Lampoons were made upon all these passages, that would not have been endur••d at another time; and as they had also a great veneration for the Queen Mother an Edict was made in railliery against Faithless Lovers, which began in these words, Henry, by the Grace of God, unprofitable King of France, and imagi∣nary King of Poland; Turn••••y of the Lovre; Church-warden of St. Germans de Lauxerrois, Son in Law to Colas, First Valet of his Wives Chamber, Pedler of the Palace, Gaurdian of Four-Beggars, Protector of Penitents and Capuchins.

By this Satyr it may be seen, that the King affected to appear devout in publick, but in private abandond himself to all manner of voluptuous sensuality, without any moderati∣on; and the Queen-mother was so far from restraining him, that she indulg'd him in his humours, that she might have the greater share in the Government. One day he gave a great Entertainment at Che••••nceaux, where the Ladies appear'd like Nymphs, half naked to their Wasts, and with their hair dishevell'd about their Shoulders. Not long after the King went in Masquerade to Hostel de Guise, where the Duke presented the Company with a Ball, to honour the Nuptials of Mademoiselle Marcel with the Baron de V••er••e••, and where

the confusion and disorder was so great, that the Candles were blown out, and the Chastity of the Ladies suffer'd no small detriment in the Dark. The King also, to make himself po∣pular, frequently went to divertise himself among the men of the Long Robe, especial∣ly to the President Boncharts House, whither he was drawn by Mademoiselle de Bussy, his Daughter-in-Law.

All the Courtiers, in imitation of their Mas∣ter, thought of nothing but making love: and knowing well, that wild passion never seeks after equality, but makes all equal, they ad∣dress'd their vows to persons as well superior as inferior to 'em in Rank and Dignity, ne∣ver considering the consequences of such ill concerted Intreagues. St. Megrin, a Gascoine Gentleman, had the confidence to make choice of the Dutches of Guise for the Object of his Tenderness, and was well receiv'd. But notwithstanding all the caution he had taken to conceal his Amorous Commerce, he was discover'd, and it cost him his Life. One evening returning from the Lo••••••re at eleven a Clock at Night, thirty men in Vizards fell upon him in the Street St. Honore, stab'd him in a thousand places, and laid him dead upon the Stones, where he expir'd soon after. The King caus'd his Body to be carry'd to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 House ne'r the Bastille, from whence he was born in great Pomp to St. P••••d's Church, and there buri'd. But there was no pursuite af∣ter the Murderers, because the Duke of Ma••••

was known to be at the Head of 'em▪ and for that the King was not ignorant that St. Megrin had drawn that misfortune upon him∣self by his own imprudence, tho his Majesty was wont to make him a familiar Companion of his Pleasures. Nor was Bussy d••Am••oise, the Duke of Alenson's Favorite more happy then St. Megrin. He lov'd Mademoiselle de Manteran, for tho he had engag'd himself in a strict In∣treague, and private enough too with that Lady, by the means of the Lieutenant Criminal of Saumur, his Confident, who took care to manage their Randevo••zes; whither she thought by such an act to conceal the dishonour of her miscarriage, of whither she began to disgust her Lover. However she sent for Bussy to meet her in her Castle, where she would be alone, but as soon as he was arriv'd there▪ the Marquis of Montera•• who kept himself private in the next Room, fell upon him, with ten more of his Friends. Bussy, who was stout and brave, defended himself like a Lyon, while his Sword was whole, but when they had broken it, he threw a way the Hil••, and with Barrs and Stools, such as he could lay hands on, wounded three or four of his Enemies. When he had nothing to defend himself, he bethought himself of taking his Heels, and as he was preparing of leap out of the Window, he receiv'd a mortal wound, which laid him weltering upon the Floor. The Duke of A••••nson was no way concern'd for his death, because his excessive Pride and Vanity had disgusted him.

Some months after, there was great re∣joying at Court upon the Marriage of the Queens Sister Mademoiselle de Vaudemont with d'Argues, whom the King had made Duke of Joyeuse. All the Ladies made their appearan∣ces in the place most magnificently adorn'd; there were Masquerades, Balls, Runnings at the Ring and Tournaments. Ransard and Baif had each of 'em a thousand Crowns a piece for Epithalamiums and Verses upon the Subject of that Festival. All the Princes, to collogue with the King, treated the new marri'd Couple, every one in their turn. The Cardinal of Bourbon, who lodgd in the Abby of St. Germans, prepar'd a great enter∣tainment in that place the 10th of October 1581. He had order'd a most stately Gallery to be erected for their Majesties to pass to the Pre aux Clerc•••• It was to have been drawn by four and twenty small Boates, that were to have been cover'd with painted Skins, which were to have made 'em appear at a distance like so many Sea Mousters; and they were to have carry'd Trumpets, Haut∣boys and Violins, which were to have found∣ed and strook up successively several Con∣sorts of Warlike and Rural Musick. But this Machine did not take effect. So that the King was forc'd to go in his Coach to the Abby. But this defect was repair'd by se∣veral other Gallantries; among which there was an Artificial Garden, adorn'd with all the beautiful products of the Spring, tho it

were in the depth of Winter. When the King treated the same Company at the Louvre, he caus'd a Ball to be daunc'd, which represented the divertisements of Ceres and her Nymphs. This Ball was attented by a Carrousel, where∣in the Horses trampl'd to the sound of seve∣ral Instruments, and an Artificial Firework, which darted forth Rockets, that as they fell, form'd the Cifers of the Duke and Dutches.

The next year, upon Shrove Tuesday, the King ran in Masquerade till six a Clock the next morning, committing a thousand Fol∣lies. For which the Preachers tax'd him in their Sermons with too much freedom. Henry the Third being offended at it, seal for Rose, a Doctor of the Sor••onne, who had declar'd against that Cavalcade, with more heat then any of the rest, nevertheless got off at the expence of a sight reprimand. For said the King to him, Doctor Rose, I have suffer'd you for these ten years together to r••n roaring about the Streets, and never said any thing to ye, yet here for one fegary at the end of the Carnaval, you have mang∣led my Reputation in your Sacred Pulpit, pray be more discreet another time and do so no more. The King was also so good natur'd, that sending for him again, within a few days after, he gave him four hunder'd Crowns, and ask'd him whither that ••••m would suffice to buy him Sugar enough to sweeten the bitter∣ness of his Sermons.

When Hen. III. took his Progress into Guy∣enne, the King of Navarr, who went to meet him at Bourdeaux, entred into an acquain∣tance there with the Countess of G••iche, the Widow of Philibert, Count of Gramont, who was Slain at the Siege of la Fere. He found her very Amiable, and paid her several vi∣sits, during his stay in that Province, and her company made him a mends for the in∣fiedlity of Madam de Sauve. For he found her altogether as sensible of his affection as his first Mistress when he parted from Bour∣beaux, and besought her not to take it amiss, if he ••et her hear from him by Parabese, whom he had taken into his Service, and whose Sister, who was one of the same Pro∣vince, was one of his great Friends. The Coun∣tess was over••oy'd at her having an oppor∣tunity to keep a correspondence with the King of Navarr, and continu'd it till he came to the Crown. As for Henry III. most certain it is, that notwithstanding these irre∣gularities of his youth, his Subjects would have liv'd happily under his Reign, had he not found 'em divided into two Factions, ex∣treamly exa••perated one against the other, when he succeeded his Brother. For he was Couragious, Eloquent, and Liberal even to profusion▪ he lov'd men of Merit, and was so naturally inclin'd to mildness, that 'twas alwaies a Grief to him when he punish'd.

Intreagues of the Court of France, under the Raign of Hen. IV.

THE first Person to wh••m over He••ry IV▪ gave any mark of his affection, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Antonetta de Pon••, Marchiones•• of G••er•••• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Widow of Henry de Silly, Count of Ro••••••••¦guyen. He saw her in Normandy, and fell so passionately in love with her, that he alto∣gether forgot the Countess of Guich••, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 whom nevertheless he had always a high esteem, and never refu••'d 〈◊〉〈◊〉 any Kindness when it lay in his Power. There was 〈◊〉〈◊〉 difference between those two Ladies, tha•• the first was a Country Lady that had never been at Court and that the se••ond had all the delicacy of Wit and Conversation, which usually distinguishes persons of the Highest Quality from others. The King found the Marchioness more reluctant then he imagin'd, and was so far from offering her any violence, that he was so charm'd with her Beauty, that he had some thoughts to have ma•••••• d her. But the cares of the War e••••orcing him to absent himself from her, long absence ab••∣ted his Passion, and suffer'd him to be surpri∣zed by the Charms of another Beauty. While he was tak'n up with the Siege of Paris, Ma••••••

de Beauvilliers, Daughter to the Count of St. Agnan, and Abbess of Montmartre, sent to him for a safe conduct, which he granted af∣ter a most obliging manner. She came to re∣turn him thanks, and made her addresses so Gracefully, that being a Woman of a comly Presence, he could not consent that she should be lockt up in a Convent. But being oblig'd in a short time after to raise his Siege, he order'd her to be conducted to Senlis, which was under his obedience, where he paid her those respects and sedulities of which she could not be insensible. She had been cloy∣ster'd by force, and for the private interest of the Family, and she lookt upon the affe∣ction of the Prince as a kindness of Fortune to release her out of Prison. But tho the King were extremly devoted to her, yet could he not forget Madam de Guercheville, and know∣ing her deserts, he resolv'd to make her amends for the loss of his heart, by helping her to a Husband, upon whom he might heap his Favours. He cast his eye upon Charles du P••essis, Lord of Liancourt, in whose favour he wrote to the Marchionoss, and so soon as he had marri'd her, he gave him the Employ∣ment of Grand Squire

One evening, the King discoursing of the Beauty of the Court Ladies; cri'd ••p extreamly the Abbess of Montmartre, and said more over, that he never saw a person so charm∣ing. Upon which the Duke of Bellegard the present, told him that he would soon be

of another opinion, if once he saw Mademo••∣selle d'Estrees, and made him so lively a de∣scription of her Beauty, that the King had a great desire to be acquainted with her. Some days after the Court remov'd to Mante, where the King divertis'd himself extreamly with the Ladies of the neighbourhood, but Mademoi∣selle d'Estrees never appear'd. After that, he went to Senlis to visit his Admirable Abbess, where he gave here all the divertisments, that his small stay would admit him to prepare for her.

When he return'd to Mante, the Duke of Bellegarde begg'd leave of his Majesty, that he might go to Coeuvres, where Gabriella d' Estrees then resided, with whom he was deep∣ly in love, and for whose sake he had quit∣ted Madam d'Humieres, tho she had taken great care of him during a sickness that had held him for some time at Mante, and had also sa∣crafic'd for his sake the Admiral de Villars, who had left nothing omitted to gain her affections. However, the King would not suffer him to take his journey, but upon con∣dition that he might go a long with him. Bellegard would have been glad to have been rid of such a Companion, but in regard it became him not to dispute with his Master, he was constrain'd to take the King along with him, and which was more, had the mis∣fortune to see that his Soveraign found her much more amiable then he had imagin'd her to be. The King ingag'd her to come to Ma••te,

where she made a new Conquest, and depri∣ved Madam de Humieres of a Lover, that is to say, of Henry of Orleans, Duke of Langueville. That Prince, who had endeavoured to chear up her heart for the loss of the Duke of Bel∣legard, prov'd as unfaithful as he, and went to dash himself against the same Rock, leaving nothing omitted to gain the affection of Ma∣demoiselle d'Estrees, during the King's absence, who was forc'd to take the Field to compleate the ruin of the Leaguers, and was detain'd in Action longer then he expected. Upon his return, he apply'd himself more sedulously to Mademoiselle d'Estrees then ever, and declar d openly, in the tone of a Master, that he would have no Companion. If the Duke Of Lon∣gueville were not a little disconsolate, Belle∣gard was much more, who was to renounce a Heart of which he had been in possession, whereas Longueville built upon a foundation of ill grounded hopes. Nevertheless he promis'd obedience, and contented himself with expressing himself to his Mistress after so sensible a manner, that she could not for∣bear to share in his grief. But she was not so moderate herself: for she flew out against the King, and told him with an extraordinary resolution, that she would be free in her in∣clinations, and that he would but incur her Hatred, if he hinder'd her from marrying Bellegard, which was a match that had been agreed upon with the goodliking of her Re∣lations. She also departed from M••nte

without taking her leave, and return'd to Coeuvres.

Her Anger and her departure equally afflict∣ed the King, and he resolv'd to make use of the greatest Submission that might be to gain her Favour. The main difficulty was which way to get to Coeuvres, in regard he was to travel seven Leagues in the Enemies Country: nor could he march with a numerous Convoy, without making his Passion known, and giving his Mistress a new occasion of Distast; so that he ran a great Hazard with a few Men, For that the Country was cover'd with the Enemies Forces, and there was a necessity for him to cross a very dangerous Forrest. However he took the last Resolution, love causing him to shut his Eyes against all other considerations. Thereupon he got a Horse∣back with five or six of his Officers in whom he most confided, whom he dismis'd when he came within three Leagues of the Castle of Coeuvres; and when he was alone, he al∣lighted, disguiz'd himself in the Habit of a Peasant, and taking a sack full of Straw upon his back, trud'g on with his Burden till he came to his journeys end. Mademoiselle d' Estrees, who together with her Sister Ma∣dam de Villars stood at the Window of a Gal∣lery, that over look't the Country, saw the Countreyman at a distance, but never dream∣ing of such a Fantastick adventure, n'ere ex∣amin'd his Face. When the King came into the Court of the Castle, he threw down his

Burthen, and going directly up Staires, with∣out taking notice of any body, to the place where he had seen her stand who was the cause of his Disguise, he accosted her after a most submissive manner. But he surpriz'd her extreamly, when she perceiv'd him in a Garb so little conformable to his dignity, and far from being oblig'd to him for what he had done for her sake, she receiv'd him with a disdainful look, which was more suita∣ble to the Habit which he wore, then the Luster of his Birth. So strangely does ha∣tred Impoyson the most Heroick Actions. Had Bellegard done as much for her sake, she would have valu'd it at a high Rate, because she lov'd him; but she took it ill at the King's Hands, because she had no kindness for him. She bid him with a Scornful Aire go and shift his Cloaths if he intended to stay with Her, and so somewhat rudely flung out of the Room, leaving her Sister to ex∣cuse her incivility.

While the King took this unprofitable Journney, the whole Court was in a strange disorder; nor did they come to themselves till the King's return disperc'd all their fears He stay'd not at all at Coeuvres, finding it in vain to tarry, since he could not oblige Mademoiselle d' Estrees to shew him the least Favour. However he appear'd for some time with such a Melancholy Countenance, that they who saw him so disconsolate, thought verily he had lost the half of his Kingdom.

But coming at length too himself, he ap∣plied himself to Publick business, as he was wont to doe: yet not being able to banish from his Heart the ungrateful Mademoiselle d' Estrees, he sent word to her Father that 'twas his pleasure to admit him into his Pri∣vy Council, on purpose to oblige him to come to Mante with his whole Family. The favour's which were bestow'd upon the Father oblig'd the Daughter to use the King a lit∣tle more civily. But in regard he was o∣blig'd to be every hour on Horseback, either to execute some Enterprize upon his Enemies, or to prevent their Designs, he could not be constantly with her.

During the King's Absence, Mademoiselle d' Estrees continu'd her Familiarity with Belle∣gard: nor did she surcease giving an Ear to the Duke of Longueville, nor to write to him, not to receive Letters from him. But as soon as the King had appeas'd the Troubles of his Kingdom, he remov'd all his Rivals. The Duke of Longueville sacrificing his Love to the Care of his Fortune, desir'd his Mis∣tress to put an end to an Intreague, which could not but be attended with unluckey Consequences, and inconvenient as well for the one as the other: he also demanded his own L••tters, and offer'd to return those which she had written, Mademoiselle d' Estrees was no∣thing troubl d to consent to this Rupture, and appointed the place where to make the ex∣change. And indeed she was very sincere in bringing all the Letters which she had recei∣ved

from the Duke: but the Duke was not so ingenious as to bring all the Letters she had written to him, but kept the most tender, by that same pledge to keep her as it were under a kind of dependency. But she was extreamly incens'd at his perfidiousness, and to revenge he self did the Duke of Langue∣ville so many ill Offices with the King, that finding the Court a place where he receiv'd nothing but new Affronts every day, he en∣gaged himself in a treasonable League, and was slain making his entry into Dourlans with a Musket from a Volley of Honour that was given him by the Garrison. Some there were who accus'd Madam d' Estrees to have hir'd a Soldier to take away his Life, who made use of that opportunity; nor was it without some probability.

But notwithstanding all the care which the King took to oblige the Marquiss de Coeu∣vres by his Favours, he could not win him to like well his sedulities to his Daughter, fearing least she should compleat the dishonor of his Family, of which the Marchioness his Wife had already began to stain the reputa∣tion. For she like a shameless Woman had follow'd the Marquiss d' Allegre into Auvergne, and there liv d with him in a publick Concu∣binage, not minding the scandal, or what the world said of her. The Marquiss therefore fearing least it should be laid to his charge if Madam d' Estrees should come to lead a Li∣centious Life, resolv'd to marry her, to free himself from the trouble of keeping a watch

upon her Actions; and for a Husband, he made choice of Nicholas Damarsal, Lord of Liancourt, a Gentleman of an Illustrious descent, and who had a great Estate, but whose mind and disposition were as crooked as his Body. Madam d' Estrees was well inform'd of all his defects, however she consented to the marriage, to free her self from the Tyranny of her Father, upon the King's word, that he would never permit the Marriage to be consummated. But the King being engag'd in an Enterprize which held him longer then he expected, could not be present at the Nuptials. The new marry'd Lady perceiving the fatal hour approach, wherein she was to be deliver'd to the Monster which her Father had made choice of for her Husband, and no Galaunt appearing to rescue her from the danger to which she was just ready to be expos'd▪ after she had storm'd a hundr'd times against his negligence, and sworn as many times to be reveng'd of him she prepar'd her self to bear the brunt with all the vigour she was ca∣pable to shew. And finding she was to expect no other assistance but what her own resoluti∣on afforded her, she so well oppos'd her own reluctancy to the importunities of her Husband, that he could not engage her to go to bed with him that night. The next day he carry'd her home, in hopes he might more easily overcome her obstinacy, in a place where he was absolute Master. But she took along with her all her kindred that had been invi∣ted

to the Nuptials, and retain'd 'em with her tell the King came to set her at li∣berty.

Henry IV. Being arriv'd at the next Vil∣lage, sent for Liancourt to come to him, and the convenient Husband went immediately, taking his Wife along with him, in hopes of drawing some advantage for the raising of his fortune from the King's love for his Wife. But alas! the King without taking any notice of him, set forward in order to the Seige of Chartres. Madam de Liancourt went along with him, accompani d by her Sister, and one of her kinswomen. Tho Siege was long; which gave the King an op∣portunity to send for Elizabeth Babou to the Camp. She was the Wife of Francis de Escou∣bleau, Marquiss of Sourdis, and Aunt to Ga∣briella d' Estrees; and the King was resolv'd to make use of her to be her Neices Governess. To very good purpose as it fell out: For the Marchioness who was greatly experienc'd in Amorous Affairs, gave her Neice such good instruction, that she became mistress of all the Kings Affections by her Compli∣ances, and obtain'd for the Marquiss of Sour∣dis the Government of Chartres, after the place was taken.

Hen. IV. Before his Intreague with Made∣moiselle d' Estrees, had perswaded Queen Mar∣garet his Wife Sister to the three last Kings his Predecessors, but somewhat loose in her behaviour, to consent to a dissolution of their

Marriage under certain conditions. Nay, the Q••een her self was already retir'd to the Castle of Ʋsson in Auvergne, seated upon a steep Mountain, and to which she had added all the Fortifications that could render it Impregnable. But the King's Amour delay'd the conclusion of this affair, as being afraid least when he was at liberty, his Subjects should press him to Marry her; which he could not find in his heart to do, in regard it was not lawful for him, because she had a Husband. Under these circumstances, find∣ing it impossible for him to have a Succes∣sor, he bethought himself of maraying Ma∣dam Catherine his Sister with a Prince of the Blood. With this design he sent for her to come to him; and going as far as the Loire to meet her, He presented the Duke of Montpensier to kiss her hand, whom he design'd her for a Husband. The Princess gave him but a very cold reception, whi∣ther it were that she did not like his person, or that having already surrender'd her heart to the Count of Soissons, she could not find room in her breast for another. She arriv'd at Dieppe, where she met with Madam Gabriella (for so was Mademoiselle d Estrees call'd after her Marri∣age) and the more she found her worthy of the Love which her Brother shew'd her, the more she hated her. She beheld her being in Favour with Envy, and to humble her, treated her with so much scorn and loftiness, that had it been any other person, 〈◊〉〈◊〉

could never have bore it. However Madam Gabriella complain'd of her contempt to the King, and besought him to part 'em. But all that the King could do to satisfie his Mi∣stress, without disobliging his Sister, was to carry Madam Gabriella along with him where∣ever he march'd to compleat the Conquest of his Kingdom, and to leave his Sister at Dieppe Madam Gabriella, who seldom or never stir∣red from the King, began to inform her self in the management of Publick Affairs, by the advice of Madam de Sourdis, and shew d so quick a Penetration and Judgment in matters of the highest importance, that she procured to her self an entrance into the King's Coun∣sels. Nor did the Chancellor Chinconi contri∣bute a little to procure her that favour. He had conceiv'd a most violent Passion for her, nor could he refrain from letting her understand it, notwithstanding the gravity which the dignity of his Office exacted from him; but doing himself that justice, as to be convinc'd that there was no such Charms in his Person that could engage Madam Gabriella to endure his Courtship, he had recourse to other means, and made himself useful to her, in giving her opportunities to satisfie her Ambition.

But her extraordinary joy to see her self mounted to such a high degree of honour was somewhat allai'd, by the news which she receiv'd of her Mothers death, who was massaker'd at Issoire in A••vergne, by the peo∣ple

that mutini'd against her Lover the Mar∣quiss d' Allegre. But she endeavour'd to repair that loss by her Correspondence with Belle∣gard, whom she met in Private, yet so wari∣ly that the King could never tax her of infidelity, tho he had frequent jealousies, which she made a shift to dissipate with her Caresses, and her Protestations of being in∣sensible to any but himself. Nevertheless, Fortune found away to discover this mistery, notwithstanding all the Precautions which those two Lovers took to avoi'd surprisal. The King having lain with Madam Gabriella one night, rose very early the next morning to execute some enterprize that he had in his thoughts, and left his Mistress a bed, where she lay under pretence of some little Indisposi∣tion; while Bellegard the better to conceal his Game, gave out that he was return'd to Mante. But so soon as the King was gone, Arphure, a Confident of Madam Gabriella's, commonly call'd la Rouse, introduc'd the Duke into a Ca∣binet, of which she her self had only the Key, and let him out again, so soon as her Mistress was rid of all such persons as were any way suspected to her. But while these two Lo∣vers were tasting all the Pleasures, that a tender Passion could afford 'em, dreaming of no disaster, the King who mist his design return'd, and by his hasty return put 'em into a strange Confussion. However a bad shift was better then none; Arphure present∣ly slipt the Duke into her Cabinet, where she

hid him at first, the Door of which was next the Bedside, and the Window lookt in∣to the Garden. The King had a mind to eat some Sweetmeats, and knowing that Ar∣phure kept her Mistresses junkets in that Clo∣set, he call'd for the Key. Madam Gabriella made answer that la Rousse had it in her Pocket, and that she was gone to visit a kinswoman of hers in the Town. Upon that, the King whose suspitions were but the more exasperated by such a refusal, threatend to break open the door and was going to work, tho she complain'd that the noise would offend her Head. But the King who was resolv'd to be satisfi'd of his doubts, made as if he had not heard what Madam Gabriella said, and laid on with his Foot against the Dore, that Bellegard finding he should be forc'd in his Sanctuary, thought it became him to venture Body and Soul to get out of the Bryars; and therefore opening the Window out he got, and jump'd into the Garden, tho he thought it a little to dear to buy his Pleasure at the price of such Catts leaps. But fortune happen'd to favour him so far that he got no harm by the fall; whether it were that the Ground were moist and yielding, or that this fear had dispos'd his body for the danger. Arphure, who stood Sentinal to see what would become of the business, no sooner beheld the Jump and the fair Escape, but in she comes, sweating and wiping her face with her Handkercher, and crying Lord, Madam, I never dreamt you would have had any oc∣casion

for me. With that the Crafty Confident open'd the Closet, and gave the King what Sweetmeats he desir'd. But then surpriz'd to find no body in the Closet, he concluded that Bellegard was become invisible, while Madam Gabriella embolden'd by his astonish∣ment, lay reproaching him, and deriding his jealousie at such a rate, that she made an absolute triumph of it. She told him, that surely his love began to coole, and that he only sought a pretence to be rid of her, but that she would not give him the advan∣tage of quitting her first; for that she would e'en prove an honest Wife at length, and go home to her Husband. The King scar'd with these menaces, threw himself at her feet, begg'd her Pardon a thousand time, and promis'd never to have an ill thought of her more. Nor durst he for a long time after shew the least mark of Jealosie, for fear she should in earnest take a whimsey so contrary to his Repose.

While the Court was in this posture, the Dutchess of Guise who stay'd at Paris with the Heads of the League, sent to desire a Pasport of the King, to go to one of her Houses in the Country, which the King granted freely, and also gave her leave to pass through the Town where he lay, Made∣moiselle de Guise was glad of the Journey, not so much out of Curiosity, an Infirmity natural to persons of her Sex, as to satifie two opposite Passions. She lov'd Bellegard, and

hated Madam Gabriella, because he was be∣lov'd by her. She had a mind to the one, in hopes to reingage him, and observe the other, in hopes to find out some way to be reveng'd of her. But for the better understanding of this intreague, we must go a little backward for the beginning of this Story.

While Paris was Beseig'd by the King's Army, there were frequent Truces, during which all the Courtly Cavaliers met by the sides of the Trenches, to discourse and en∣tain the Ladies, who to that purpose ap∣pear'd upon the Ramparts. Annas d' Anglurre, Lord of Giury who was in love with Made∣moiselle de Guise, still made her acquainted with it, or else did her some other Civility. But she never return'd him any favourable an∣swer, because she had some pretentions to the King's heart, who had desir'd her Picture, and testifi'd an inclination to marry her, provid∣ed that Marriage would engage the Heads of the League to return to their obedience. These hopes of a Crown made her despise all those that durst declare themselves her Lovers. But she could not always keep in that haughty mind. One day Bellegard suf∣fering himself to be haul'd a long by some of his Friends to one of the most convenient Posts for conversing with the ••••dies, took notice of Mademoiselle de Guise, who appear'd so amiable to him, that 〈◊〉〈◊〉 could not forbear fixing his eyes a long 〈◊〉〈◊〉 upon her. Nor was the Dutchess in∣sensible

of it, and therefore explaining his staring upon her to her advantage, made no question of an absolute Victory over the Dukes Heart. She examin'd him afterwards her self, and finding him a person worthy to be belov'd, she thought it might not be Im∣possible for her to comfort her self for the loss of those grandeurs to which she had aspi∣red, provided she might spend the rest of her days with person for whom she had already so great an inclination. Bellegard had been accus'd to have contributed former∣y to the death the of the Duke of Guise, who was murder'd at Blois, and Madam de Guise, who had been inform'd of it, represented Bellegard to her self as a person whom it be∣hov d her to hate: but the more she incens'd her heart to hate him, the less she found it dis∣posed to obey her, but with a strange con∣fusion found that her sentiments for him were quite of another sort. Thus Mother and Daughter fell both in love with a Per∣son whom a thousand reasons supported by decency and point of honour, oblig'd to de∣test. Mademiselle de Guise well understood that her Mother was her Rivaless, and re∣solved to combat her growing passion, or at least to conceal the disorder it had made in her Breast. Bellegard on the other side, thought it behov'd him to extinguish those thoughts of tenderness which he felt budding in his heart for Mademiselle de Guise, or at least to make as if he knew nothing of any such

thing, for fear least Madam Gabriella, who had been the principal support of his fortune, should go about to ruin him, when she came to understand his unconstancy.

He knew that Princess had been inform••d of the reports that ran about to his preju∣dice concerning the murder at Blois, and not being able to indure she should be his enemy, tho he gave over all thoughts of being belov'd by her, he employ'd some of his friends who kept good Correspondence in the House of Guise, to speak in his justifi∣cation, as well to the Mother as to the Daugh∣ter. Those excuses were so well receiv'd that the Dutchess declar'd to those that spoke in his behalf, that she never gave Credit to those Calumnies, and forbid her Daughter to accuse the Duke, for the future, of being concern'd in her Fathers death. Nor did Mademoiselle de Guise shew the least reluctancy to obey so pleasing a command: so agreeable to reason, and experience is the Proverb, that Love justifies all things.

The Dutchesses civilities put Billegard to a new non plus; he call'd to mind how Mademoiselle de Guise had answer'd his passionate looks, and judg d that it would not be impossible for him to be belov d by her. On the other side, he laid before himself what a fowl piece of ingratitude it would be, to fail in his Fidelity, to a Person that prefer'd him before a King, greater for his vertue then for the Throne to which his birth had advanc'd him. Nevertheless, tho Reason, Ambition

and Honour condemn'd his change, he could not find in his heart to extingish a Passion supported by such pleasing hopes: nor would he renounce either the one or the other of his Mistresses, but took a resolution to serve 'em both at the same time. With this de∣sign he thought it behov••d him to make the best of the Affection which the Dutchess of Guise had for him: and to that purpose he fre∣quently sent her Letters, or Messages, and always receiv••d obliging answers. The Duke of Guise having made his escape out of Prison, where he had been confin'd since the death of his Father, Bellegard, who knew it particularly, sent away a Trumpeter to congratulate him, and withal gave him two Letters to deliver to both the Princesses. The Trumpeter who understood his business, slipt into Mademoiselle de Guises hand the Let∣ter that was directed to her, unperceiv'd by any body. And she, because she could not speak to the Messenger, as being too strictly observ••d, gave him to understand by an ob∣liging sign, that his message no way displeas'd her. Of which Bellegard being inform'd by his Trumpeter, he receiv'd the news with as much joy as if some considerable happi∣ness had befall'n him.

This was the condition of these three persons, when Madam de' Guise requested the Passport already mention'd. Bellegard therefore understanding that the Dutchess was upon the Road, intending for Ma••te,

perswaded the King to send some body to meet her, and obtain'd that permission him∣self. I shall say nothing of what pass'd at that enterview: But 'tis easie to guess that the Mother let slip no favourable opportu∣nity, to give the Duke a full understanding of her Passion, and that the Daughter an∣swer'd the Duke's more passionate looks with glances no less tender, tho her modesty somewhat ecclips'd the vivacity of 'em. When the Dutchess arriv'd at Court, she could not forbear praising Madam Gabriella's Beauty; but the Princess tho she agreed in her thoughts to every thing her Mother said, could not find in her heart to applaud those Charms that disputed with her the possession of an Affection to which she had such great Preten∣tions. On the otherside, Madam Gabriella, after she had cast her eyes sometimes upon Bellegard, sometimes upon Mademoiselle de Guise, felt in her self a kind of secret vexa∣tion to find the Princess so lovely. So that the two Rivalesses shew'd as much cold∣ness one for the other as it was possible for 'em to express, without failing in those Ci∣vilities which it behov'd 'em to pay each o∣ther mutually, to avoid rudeness. More then that, Mademoiselle de Guise, being in the Circle toward Evening, told Bellegard, whom she perceiv d attending her Chair, after she had sometime consider'd Madam Gabriella, that she did not believe her so Beautiful as Fame had publish'd her. To which the Duke

durst return no answer, for fear of being over∣heard by his former Mistress, who was not far from him.

The King who was inform'd of the love which the Dutchess of Guise had for Belle∣gard, readily apprehended, that if he had any complaisance for her, 'twas only for fear least she should perceive the Passion which he had for her Daughter. And this judge∣ment which the King made of his Amours prov d two ways to the Dukes advantage. For it dissipated the jealous sentiments which the King had of Madam Gabriella, for whom he had a greater kindness then ever; and it made him utterly renounce his design of mar∣rying Mademoiselle de Guise. So that Bellegard was at liberty to continue unmolested in his Intreague with both his Mistresses.

He would have been too happy, could he but have cur'd Madam Gabriella of her jealousie as well the King. But she was too quicksight∣ed, and had too much interest to pry into his Conduct, to be so easily deceiv'd. She was soon sensible of the Services which he paid to Mademoisselle de Guise, and the disgust she took would not permit her to taste the Pleasure which the King's credulity would otherwise have afforded her, if her thoughts had been more at liberty. Mademoiselle de Guise obsev'd in her turn the restlessness of Madam Gabriella, and whither it were that she thought by augumenting it, to oblige her to an absolute Repture with Bellegard, or

that out of meer vanity she took delight to make known the Power of her Charms, she no longer kept her self within Bounds, but affected, before her Rivallessees face, to give the Duke all the marks of affection that could fo∣ment her Jealousie. 'Tis true, that she thought she did her no unjustice in depriving her of the Duke, since she had taken the King's heart from her. Nevertheless, things were not equal: For it is certain that Madam Gabriella would have renounc'd, with little trouble, all the interests of Fortune, provided she might have met with her satisfaction in point of Love.

The Dutchess of Guise, after she had stay'd a day at Court, and obtain'd a Neutrality for the House where she desir'd to spend the Summer, took her leave of his Majesty. But Madam Gabriella could not pardon her Daugh∣ter, for the attempt she made upon her Lo∣vers Heart: so that she would not see either the one or the other at their departure, un∣der pretence of being indispos'd. Bellegard, and the Chiefest part of the Grandees of the Court, attended her a great way, nor did they return till next morning. Madam Ga∣briella gave the Duke a very cold reception, which did not a little perplex him: for he knew well, that it would be a difficult thing to enter into so strict a Correspondence with Mademoiselle de Guise, so long as the War continu d: and that consideration made him fear the loss of his former Mistress, the satisfa∣ction

of whose company would make him some amends for the absence of his new Mi∣stress. He upbraided himself with his own indiscretion, and he had sometimes the lei∣sure to repent of his being unfaithful to lit∣tle purpose. But if Bellegard felt a Tem∣pest in his Breast, the Dutchess of Guise enjoy'd as little Tranquility: She could not live remote from him who took up all her thoughts; and therefore, to remove all ob∣stacles that kept her from his Company, she perswaded her Son to treat with the King; of which she gave advice to the King by a Courrier sent on purpose. Hen. IV. who de∣sierd nothing so much as to bring back his Subjects to their Duty by acts of Mildness, especially this young Prince, for whom he had a value, and whom he knew to have a great interest among the Leaguers, accepted the Proposal, and made choice of Bellegard to negotiate with the Dutchess. Of which Madam Gabriella having notice, she endeavour'd to get another appointed in his Room, re∣presenting to the King, that the Duke was a young man without experience, who would never be able to carry on such an Employ∣ment; besides, that his Mediation would not be so pleasing to the Son as to the Mother. On the other side, Bellegard, who passionate∣ly desir'd to see his new Mistress Mademoiselle de Guise, made use of all his Credit with the D••ke of Neverse President of the King's Coun∣cil, to confirm the King in his first design.

Nor did the Duke stand in need of much Elo∣quence to perswade the King to it: for in∣regard the King well knew that Madam Ga∣briella acted upon the account of jealousie, the same Passion hinder'd him from yielding to her Reasons.

Well at length the Duke set forward; but his Journey prov'd not so successful as he promis'd to himself. For Paris being return'd to her obedience, the King, who saw the Leagures Party utterly ruin'd refus'd to grant the Duke of Guise those Conditions which he demanded. However Bellegarde would not be discourag'd, and being well se∣conded by the Duke of Nevers, he oblig d the King to grant the Duke of Guise a very advantagious accommodation. Which be∣ing concluded, the Duke came to kiss the King's hand at Mante, and was graciously re∣ceiv••d. Afterwards he went to Madams A∣partment, in whose eye he appear'd so handsome that she thought she could do no less then prefer him before the Count of Soisson's.

1596. Madam Gabriella finding that Belle∣garde had made an accomodation for the Duke, would needs make another for the Duke of Main, in h••pes he might be useful to her in a design which she had to marry the King. To that purpose she caus'd an offer to be made him of her Service; and he promis'd to em∣ploy'd all the Credit of the League to ad∣vance her to the Throne. The first thing she

did, was the obtaining leave for the Duke to retire to Chalon••, together with a General Truce for all his Party, and having gain'd the President Jeannin, who by the King's order ne∣gotiated that Accommodation, she caus'd the King to pass a good number of Artic••o•• that would have been very hardly admitted, with∣out her recommendation.

Sometime after the King set forward in order to besiege Laon: and during his ab∣sence Madam Gabriella was brought to ••ed of Caesar Duke of Vendosme. Of which when the King receiv'd the news at the Camp, he was pleas d to testifie his joy for the Birth of a Son, by Creating his Mistress March••o less of Beaufort. Upon his Return, Madam Ga∣briella, labour'd in good earnest to encline him to the Marriage which she desir'd. And because that in order to bring it to pass, there was a necessity of breaking the Contract which the King had made with Queen Margaret, she endeavour d to gain the Consent of that Prin∣cess. But they who spoke to her about it, found her no way dispos'd to give her consent, tho for no other reason, but that she could not brook without disdain, to see that room which they would perswade her to quit, supply'd by a person so much her Inferiour. But tho the Marchioness of Beaufort under∣stood to her sorrow the ill success of that Negotiation, the new importunities of the Duke of Bellegarde made her amends for it, who felt his almost extinguish'd. Fires rekindle'd

by that augmentation of her Grandeur. He took care to justifie himself, and was favou∣rably heard; because people readily believe whatever they desire.

Tho Bellegarde had made his peace with the Marchioness, he no less assiduously pay'd his services to Madamoiselle de Guise, and made her such frequent Visits, that her Brother be∣gan to take it amiss. But all this while that he blam'd the Duke's Temerity, he committed the same error in reference to Madame, and spoke of him after so a disobliging a manner, that Bellegarde believing himself oblig'd to resent it, labour'd to remove him from the Court. To that purpose, he gave the King to understand by the Duke of Nevers, that the Duke of Guise's Courting his Sister with∣out his Permission, was a wounding of his Au∣thority, and that it would be convenient to Banish him into some remote Province, un∣der pretence of some Honourable Employ∣ment. It so fell out also, that the Govern∣ment of Province was then vacant, and there∣fore the Marchioness of Beaufort begg'd it for him. Nor could the King refuse such a Boon to his Favourite and Mistress. So that the Duke of Guise had the Government con∣fered upon him before he was aware, and was constrain'd to depart, without having time hardly to take his leave of Madame.

She, poor Princess, was strangely surpri∣z'd when she heard that her Lover was re∣mov'd from her, without any hopes of seeing

him in a long time, in so much that she had not the power to bid him adieu. However she endeavour'd to find out who had drawn this misfortune upon her, but not being able to discover any thing, after she had storm'd for some days against her evil destiny, she suffer'd amends to be made her for that loss by John Lewis de Nogaret de la Valette, Duke of Espernon, and tho he were neither so hand∣some nor so young as the Duke of Guise, she kept a good Correspondence with him till her Marriage with the Duke of Barr, with Whom she went to live in his own Territories, and by her departure deliver'd the Marchi∣oness of Beaufort from a world of vexation, for being forc'd to pay many times ill receiv'd deferences to the Birth and Quality, rather then to the person of that Princess.

Bellegarde on the other side, knew how to make the best advantage of the Marchiness of Beauforts good. Humour, upon the departure of the Dutchess of Barr, to dispose her to a reconciliation with Mademoiselle de Guise; he also wrought her to consent that he should marry that Princess, as being the only means to cure the King's Jealousie which began to revive a∣gain more and more every day. On the other side Madam de Guise put it forward as much as lay in her power, knowing the advantage of such a Match, at a time when the Marchioness of Beaufort dispos'd of all the King's Favours. From that time forward therefore those two Ladys perfectly understood one another, were

never a sunder, and affected the same Habits and the same Dresses. Which reconciliation deceiv'd the King to that degree, that he no longer suspected Bellegarde to have any familiarity with the Marchioness, and he had been the Lord knows how long wrapt up in that error, but for an unexpected acci∣dent that awaken'd all his suspitions at once. For Bellegarde one evening had written a very tender Billet to the Marchioness, which Ar∣phure forgot under her Toylet, not having taken care to lock it up, by reason of some little indisposition of her Mistress. Now it so fell out that Peter. Beringhon, First Valet de Chambre to the King, going betimes in the morning by the King's order, to know how the Marchioness did, perceiv'd the fatal Bil∣let, took it up, and carri'd it to his Master. Upon that, the King commanded him to keep a vigilant watch upon those two Lovers, and Beringhon was so faithfull in the discharge of his Trust, that seeing the Duke one Even∣ing enter the Marchionesses Chamber, he gave the King notice of it, who presently command∣ed Charles de Choisul Marquis of Pralin, Cap∣tain of the Guards of his Body, to go and Stabb that insolent Fellow in his Mistresses Arms.

The Marquiss was at his wits end to be charg'd with an order so rigorous against two Persons that had oblig'd him upon several occasions. However he obey'd, and passing through the Guard-hall, made a sign to five

or six to follow him; but he went so far a∣bout and made such a noise, that when he came into the Chamber he found no body but the Marchioness alone, to whom he un∣folded his Commission. The Marchioness took so kindly the Service he had done her, that she promis'd him never to forget it. And it was upon her recommendation and Mademoiselle de Guises together, who was no less concern'd in the preservation of Belle∣garde, then the Marchioness, that Pralin ob∣tain'd the Battoon of Marshall of France; and afterwards they wrought him so deeply in∣to the King's favour, as thereby to raise him to that high degree of Fortune where∣in he appear'd toward the end of Henry the Greats Raign. In the mean time the Marchi∣oness upbraided the King with his unjust sus∣pitions; nor had the King any thing else to support the Transports of his Indignation, then the Letter that Beringhon brought him. But as to that, she swore that she never read it, and easily justifi'd herself, because she had a Plenipotentiary Power to make her Cre∣dulous Lover believe whatever she pleas'd to impose upon him. So that there wanted nothing to compleat the Cure of the King's jealousie, but her consent to Bellegarde's Ba∣nishment, who receiv'd an Order to depart the Court, and not to return, till he was married, and brought his Wife along with The Duke departed, and because it was impossible to stay long from the Mansion of

Pleasure, he marri'd Ann de Beuil, the Daugh∣ter of Honore de Beuil, Sister to Fontaine, who was slain at the Siege of St. Malo's when that City declar'd for the League. With her, he return'd to Paris; but there he found a new Beauty, who never before had appear'd at Court; this was Louise de Budo's, Daugh∣ter to James de Budoss, and Katherine de Clare∣mont, marry'd but a little while to the Con∣stable Montmorency. This young Lady made all that pretended to be successful in Gallan∣try tremble: and not without reason, for that there never was any Lover whose Fi∣delity could be proof against her Charms. But she was so haughty withall, that she scorn'd the love of the one and the jealousies of the other.

Nor could the King defend himself any bet∣ter then his Courtiers defended themselves from the sparkling Glances which she darted from her eyes, but was very officious in pay∣ing his assiduities to her, never valuing the trouble it might be to Madam de Beaufort. The Counstable also took delight in her di∣sturbances, and jeasted about 'em with Mar∣shal de Biron, who solely possess'd the Kings Inclinations. But Fortune soon after deli∣vered the Marchioness from so dangerouss a Rivaless: for she dy'd in Childbed, leaving the Constable two Children, Henry, after∣wards Duke of Montmorancy, and Charlote Margarite, who was marri'd to Henry of Bour∣bon Prince of Condè, which was the occasion

of a very great Intreague, towards the end of this Raign. Madam de Beaufort had also by the King Katherine Henrietta, legitimated of France, whom in 1619, marry'd Charles of Lorrain Duke of Elbeuf, and Alexander de Ven∣dosme, commonly call'd the Grand Prior, who ended his days in the Dungeon of the Castle of Vincennes, where he had been con∣fin'd by the order of Lewis XIII. But the Mar∣chioness was not brought to bed of this Prince till after the Queen was unmarry'd; and then it was that finding her self at liberty, she made use of all her wit to oblige the King to set the Crown upon her Head. The King also, over whom she had an absolute ascendant, left nothing omitted on his part to have gratifi'd her desires, and banish'd Nicholas de Neuville, Lord of Villeroy, and Secretary of State, for presuming with too much liberty to condemn his design. Now in regard the King was cer∣tain to obtain whenever he pleas'd the consent of Queen Margaret, there remain'd no more to do but only to get the Court of Rome to allow the Divorce. To which purpose he sent with the Character of his extraordinary Embassador, Nicholas Brulard, Lord of Sileri, then President of the Parliament, and after∣wards Chancellor of France. He was one of the most able Ministers the King had, and in regard he was no less Zealous for his Masters Interests then for those of the Marchioness, to whom he was beholding for a good part of his Fortune, 'twas to be presum'd that he would

leave nothing uneffected to render his Em∣bassie successful. But before we relate the success of his Negotiation, it will not be a∣miss to shew upon what grounds the King demanded the Dissolution of his marriage: which cannot be better understood then by the Manifesto that he publish'd upon that oc∣casion.

The Manifesto of Hen. IV. upon his Divorce from Queen Mar∣garet.

I Thought my self exempt from giving an accompt to the Publick of the motives that induc'd me, after twenty years being wedded together, to separate my self from the Sister of the Kings my Predecessors un∣der pretence of being too near in Blood: And indeed being above the Laws, I did not think my self oblig'd to give an account of my actions to any but God only. But in regard that Strangers, and several of the French Nation take an occasion from thence to blame my Conduct, some calling me Vo∣luptuous; others, Atheistical; and both to∣ther condemning me for ingrateful, I thought my self concern'd in honour to satisfie those who have suffer'd themselves to be abus'd,

and to confound the malice of my secret Enemies, by exposing to the Eyes of the World the true causes of the Divorce which I desire. For considering the high Station to which God has rais'd me, 'tis not suf∣ficient that my life should be without re∣proach, it behoves me also to render it free from suspition, and to draw the Curtain with which I endeavour to hide the disor∣der of my Family.

'Ts said that Heaven sends admonitions to those who are born to command over others, of the misfortunes that will be fall 'em. If the bloody Rain that fell at Rome before the Battle of Cannae, were a presage of the loss which the Republick was shortly to sustain, I may say that the Blood that was shed upon the day of my Nuptials, seem'd to foretel the cruel Afflictions that should befall me, by reason of this fatal Union. But I ne∣ver minded that unlucky Omen, nor the words of Charles the Ninth, Brother to this unchast Woman, who being better acquain∣ted with her then my self, said by way of Raillery, that he did not give his Megg for a Wife to the King of Navarr, only, but to all the Hereticks in his Kingdom. I in∣terpreted his meaning another way, and imagin'd that he lookt upon it as a knot that would for the future inevitably bind to his Service all the Huguenots: neverthe∣less, time has but too plainly discoverd to

me the mistery of that Oracle. I was so little acquainted with that Princess, that I knew not that she had been sensible of love ever since Eleven years of Age, that Entragues and Charrins, both boasted that they had obtain'd her chiefest favours at that Age. I know not whither a Generous E∣mulation to dispute the Conquest, or the Transports of his Pleasure caus'd Entragues to go beyond his strength, but certain it is that his efforts brought him within two fingers breadth of the Grave, and made him relinquish his bargain to take a Wife less beautiful, but more prudent and reserv'd.

The Prince of Martignes supply••d the place which Entragues left vacant, and having dis∣carded Charrins, for whom she had no great kindness, he remain'd the sole master of her heart. That Prince being naturally vain glorious, was so far from making a miste∣ry of his good fortune, that there Intreague, after it had been the discourse of the whole Court, was divulg'd in the Army, and pas∣sing from mouth to mouth, afforded ample matter of Raillery to all the Foot Souldiers, of which Martignes was Collonel. That indis∣creet Lover, upon all occasions of greatest danger wore an Embroider'd Scarf, and car∣ried with him a little Dog that she had given him, which he kept to his dying day as a Pledge of her Friendship. The loss of this Favorite drew tears from her, which the King endeavour'd to wipe away, by marrying her

to the King of Portugal: But the Duke of Guise, who pretended, by espousing her, to give some colour to his Ambitious Designs, cross'd that Match, by the cunning of the Cardinal of Lorrain, her Uncle, who was sent to the King of Spain to condole the Death of Elizabeth of France his Wife. In the mean time the Duke insinuated himself into the favours of that Princess, by means of the kind Offices which he did Madam de Carnavalet. 'Tis said, that the Dukes of Alenson and Anjou broke off that Intreague, and that she had those complacencies for 'em, that propinquity of Blood did no way authorize: but I cannot believe that her Debauchery ran up to that excess. How∣ever it were▪ the mark had been hit seve∣ral times before our marriage, and all men will be easily convinc'd, that I had no need of any great strength to carry the Ring at the first Course.

So soon as we were marry'd, they who had right to pretend to her familiarity, discarded themselves, and oblig'd her by their withdrawing themselves to stoop to Gallantries not so Illustrious. The Dutch∣ess of Nevers her very good friend, who lov'd Cocona's, engag'd her to favour la Molle a Confident of their Intreague, to spare him the trouble of holding the Cloak when they were together. But they preserv'd not those Lovers very long, for being found guilty of the Conspiracy of the Marshals

Montmorency, and de Cosse, they left their Heads upon a Scaffold. At what time these Compassionate Ladys, understanding that they lay expos'd to the view of the Peo∣ple, took up the pretious remainders of the Objects of their Amours, and put 'em into their Coach: which done they carry'd 'em to St. Martins Chapel below Montmatre, where after they had bedew'd 'em with their Tears, they buried 'em with their own hands.

The Queen was so over press'd with grief for the Tragical end of la Molle, that she was pitty'd by St. Hue. That Noble Knight was resolv'd to make her amends for the loss of him, and out of that Pious Intention, went often to visit her, at Nerac in several disguises; but finding her me∣lancholy return'd the very same day that she saw herself depriv'd of his sweet Con∣solations, she stood in need of Bussy to chear her up. Nevertheless, she did not find the latter fit for her turn, because as tis said he was a better Trencher-man then a Bedfel∣low, and for that he was often tormented with a Colick, of which he had usually a fit at the beginning of his sport.

But the difference between those two parties, did not hinder her from harkning to the Duke of Main, a good Champion, Plump and Fat, and Voluptuous like her self. That conformity of humours

caus'd the correspondence to last very long, notwithstanding that Madam Vitry came in for a share, and did all she could to inter∣rupt it. Nevertheless, the Duke forgot him∣self one day, when he wrote to her Riva∣less, that he prefer'd the Sun before the Moon; that is to say in plain intelligible Language, Madam Vitry before the Queen of Navarr; because my chast Spouse call••d her self Diana; but there was a reconcilia∣tion, and the Moon Ecclips'd the Sun.

This Sacrifice could not make Diana loose her inconstant Humour, nor was it just that she should continue her fidelity to a Man who seperated himself from her to make War a∣gainst the Party which Honour and Virtue oblig'd him to embrace. The Huguenots al∣so would have had reason to complain, could she have found no body among 'em worthy to enjoy her, for a few dayes at least. Vicount Turenne was the first of their Hero's that enter'd the Lists, he was Proper and had a good Presence; and his acceptable outside pleased at first. But she found him not so amiable in Private as in Public, so that she dismiss'd him with this Character that he was like Empty Clouds that onely make a fair show. This Lover in Dispair would have gone and hang'd himself in some remote Country, and I know not what would have been become of him if for the Interest of our Party, I had not oblig'd her to recall him. She had much a do to find in her heart to be

so good natur'd because her Vanity had put her in hopes that the Vicount would have done like Anaxarete's Lover, who hang'd himself up at her Dore. And it was a trou∣ble to her, to see her self depriv'd of the Honour to have forc'd a Man of his Merit to have hang'd himself for her Sake.

She made me pay dear for this Complain∣sance; so that I was constrain'd to suffer that which she had for Clermont d' Amboise, who embrac'd her often in her Night Gown upon the Threshold of the Chamber-dore, while I to give her time to go to bed, either walk'd or play'd in my Parlor with such Officers as I had about me. The Convenience could not be carry'd any farther; and I know more Coquetts then one that would have purchas'd at the price of any Gold a Hus∣band of this Character. Nevertheless be∣cause I would not be accus'd of venting my Morals so extraordinary, to tame the jealous, and take advantage of their weakness I will set forth the reasons that induc'd me to observe this Conduct. I was a King without a Kingdom, and Head of a Party, which it behov'd me to maintain most com∣monly without Men or Money to raise any: and when I saw the Tempest ready to poure upon me, had no other way to divert it, then by my submission. Then this good Lady, such as she is, was not unuseful to me; the consideration of her, mollifi'd her Mother and her Brothers exasperated against

me. On the other side, her Beauty drew to me a good number of stout Men, which her easiness retain'd in my service; and she would have thought it an injury done to the interest of our Party, had she discourag'd any one by the excess of her severity. Judge you, after all this, if I had not reason to keep fair with her. However, there were some that were the subject of her railliery, and I had the honour to be entrusted with their ridiculous Passion. The old Fool de Pierat was one of that number; Love made him her Chancellor, and he contested for this Employment, that he might have the priviledge to write to her those Letters which his tenderness dictated, and with which, that perfidious Officer and my self divertis'd our selves when we were alone together. Those who had erected her Scheme, had foretold, that her Stars threat∣ned that she should dye by my hand, be∣tween the 21 and 28 of March 1580. and that I would sacrifice her to my outrag'd Honour, but my prudence or the hopes of my future separation, render'd that predi∣ction vain, and frustrated the malignity of her Stars. We continu'd together as before, I in my Indulgence, and she abandon'd over to her Voluptuousness. She invented also new Ragoos, by laying on black Taffata Sheets upon her Bed, and lighting up a thou∣sand Wax Candles in her Chamber. And then it was that she became fruitful, and

brought to light that fruit of her Liber∣tinism, which being educated under a bor∣row'd name, promises one day to out do her Mother, in her happy talents. These niceties and refinements of her wantonness had brought her to that delicate pass, that she could not endure me. When at any time I return'd from Hunting with my face all dusty, and bath'd in sweat, lay down by her side, I was no sooner out of the Bed, but she caus'd the Sheets to be chang d, tho perhaps I had not lain there above a quarter of an hour. She did not only scorn my Person, but my Birth, which she thought inferior to hers. One day, ha∣ving desir'd her to let Madam de Thoiras, with whom I had something of Affinity, sit down at her Table, she answer'd me, that then she must wash her feet in a Bason full of Water, as if she had been one of the poor Women, that come to have their feet wash'd upon Maunday Thursday. As if she had not at Florence a hunder'd Merchants, that were nearer a kin to her by twenty degrees, then any of the Relations of the Il∣lustrious Families of Foix and Albret to the House of Bourbon. But those adventures be∣fell her afterwards that humbl'd her Pride.

After she had been shamefully expell d out of Paris, from whence a Captain of the Guards of the Body sent her packing, and search'd her very Litter, to see what com∣pany

she had, and whither Mesdames de Duras, and Bethune her Cabinet Secretaries, who were forbid to follow her, were there or no, she was a little more cautious, for fear of worse usage. However, her reserv'd∣ness was but of a short continuance, no longer then the remembrance of the affront: so soon as the Image of Pleasure had ras'd it from her memory, she was to be seen plung∣ing her self in Voluptuousness, with an un∣bridl'd Incontinency. She left me without so much as bidding me adieu, and went to Agen, a City contrary to my Party, there to keep her Amorus Court, and to continue her Debaucheries with more freedom. But the Inhabitants scandaliz'd at her loose man∣ner of living, sent her packing in so much hast, that she had hardly time to get up behind one of her Favourites, and they that could not tell where to hire Horses traps d after her, some without Masques, some without Aprons, some not half dress'd, and in so great disorder, that you would rather have taken 'em for Gypsies, then Maids of Ho∣nour to a Great Queen.

They were accompani'd by some Officers, some a Horse-back without Boots, others a Foot, under the orders of Lignerac, who carri'd 'em to Carlat, in the Mountains of Anvergne, where Marcé his Brother was Go∣vernour; a Place of strength indeed, but which you would have rather taken for a Cavern to harbour Thieves, then for the

Residence of a Princess, both the Daughter, Sister and Wife of a King.

I blush when I think of all these Indignities; well knowing that History will not fail of transmitting to Posterity the actions of great Personages, notwithstanding all the care they can take to stifle 'em. What a shame will it be, when after twenty Ages, an Age less vitious shall come to understand that this produc'd such a Monster of Uncleanness, and that there should issue from a Blood so Noble, and Pure; a Woman whose dissolutness surpass'd the Incontinency of Julia and Mesallina.

I was in hopes, before this last adventure, that her natural inconstancy would have infus'd into her a disgust of a Debau∣chery wherein she met with no opposition, seeing Our desires are not exasperated but by the obstacles that oppose 'em; and that in recompence of that indulgence where∣with We suffer'd all her Disloialties, she would at length have surceas'd to disho∣nour me; but experience has shew'd me, that Vice being become habitual to her, she never felt any remorce of Conscience when she betray'd her Duty. This obstinacy of hers, in violating the Rights and Laws of Conjugal Society, made me at length re∣solve to break the Bond that united us to∣gether. God who has done me the Favour to deliver me from this lascivious Woman, well knows how much I wish'd it had been

in my power to have unfolded this secret Article of our Divorce in milder terms, and not to have been constrain'd to publish what ought to have been buri'd in eternal silence; but publick murmur and calumny force me to it, and the assurance I have of advancing nothing but what is known all over France invites me to it.

The King her Brother understanding her flight, and hearing the complaints which I made of her, wrote me word that if I would have taken his Counsel, and have treated his Sister, as she deserv'd, I should have been free from disturbance, nor should I have been tyr'd with her follies. He also openly spoke it at Dinner, that the Queen of Na∣varr did not only prostitute her self to the Younger Brothers of Gascoine, but to the Mule Drivers and Tinkers of Auvergne: which words prov'd true. For after she ar∣riv'd at Carlas, where she stay'd a good while, not only without any Canopies or Beds of State, but without a Smock, she made no distinction in the choice of her Favorites. She honour'd her Cook with her last favours, not being able to lie idle, while she stayd for Duras, whom she had sent into Spain for Money, tho her Envoy's Wife preach'd Constancy and Loyalty to her every day, to prevent her fullying her self with such an ig∣nominious Engagement. 'Tis true that all her other Lovers had forsaken her, when they saw her in misery, and that St. Vincent

was return'd home to avoid the excessive expence he must have been at, had he undertaken to have kept all her Family.

But the niceness of the Queen of Navarr, could not long comply with a Lover that always smelt of Grease, and therefore be∣cause she could not be without one, she ad∣vanc d into his room her Squire Aubiac, who could never else have expected with his read hair, and his freckl'd skin to have been admitted to the Embraces of a Daugh∣ter of France. Nevertheless he had subject enough to satisfie his Vanity, being found a Bed with her by Madam de Marcé, who came a little to early, to pay her respects to the Queen. But that officious visit was repaid with the death of her Husband, whom the Queen sent into the other world, by help of a Beverage prepar'd alamode of her Mothers Country. She thought, that after she had poyson'd the Governour, that it might have been easie for her, with the help of the Souldiers that Roras, Aubiac's kinsman was gone to raise in Gascoine, to have made her self absolute Mistress of that Place, and to have expell'd those that had so generously receiv'd her during her mis∣fortune. But she faild in her wicked designs. Duras returning from Spain, and seeing an∣other Lover in possession of his room, would not let her have any Money, but fain'd to have laid it out in Gloves, Parfumes, Horses and other Curiosities of the Country from

whence he came, what the new Amazon had design'd in order to make War against me. The Gascoine Levies were discover'd, the Garison was reinforc'd, and she her self was charitably advis'd to seek some o∣ther Post; which the fear of an Affront made her do with great precipitation. She departed with the same Equipage, and in the same disorder as she arriv'd, and made such long days Journies, that she got to Jury, a House belonging to the Queen her Mo∣ther. But she had hardly time to alight be∣fore she saw her self besieg'd by the Mar∣quiss of Cavillac, to whom the King had given such Order. There she was taken with her Paramour, who had hid himself under a heap of Ordure, without Beard or Hair; she her self having clipt 'em off, the better to disguise him. Nevertheless, she did not resolve to save him this way, till she had in vain attempted to infuse Courage into him, and to have perswaded him by death to have avoided that ignominy which was prepar'd for him, offring to shew him the way herself, provided he had but the resolution to follow her. I make no questi∣on but they who read this Manifesto will be mov'd to compassion, when they shall under∣stand to what extremities this Princess was reduc'd to; an unworthy Scien of those re∣nowned Hero's that have so gloriously ex∣tended the Bounds of this Famous Kingdom, and humbl'd the Pride of her Neighbours.

Nor is it less an affliction to me to see their Memory thus affronted, and their Reputati∣tion tarnish'd by this Enemy of Virtue. But this is my comfort, that there are very few or no Descents, how illustrious soever they may be, that are not defective in some part of the Lineage or other; no Spring so pure and ••impid, which after a long course has not its Chrystial Streames defil'd and in∣termix'd with Slime and Mudd. But so much for Morality, let us now see how she got clear of this Precipice into which she was fallen.

She had those flattering colloging ways with her, that it was a difficult matter for a man to resist her, when she had a mind to make use of 'em. And indeed she courted Cavillac to that degree, that not being able to continue long insensible, but rather pre∣ferring ••••ansitory pleasure to that fidelity which he ow'd his Master, he suffer'd him∣self to be surppsiz'd by the Artifices of his Prisoner, he sacrific'd the interest of his Fortune to the Lullaby's that Love had pro∣mis d him, and willingly blinded by his jea∣lousie, order'd Aubiac to be prosecuted by Lug••li. That unfortunate person, who was guilty of no other Crime, then of having comply'd with the Caresses of our Circe was hang'd at Aigue-Perse, so constant to his faithless Mistress, that instead of think∣ing of his Salvation, he kiss'd to the last mi∣nute of his life, a Scarf of Blew Velvet,

the only remainder of her favours. And it seem'd as if the unhappy Aubiac had had some kind of foresight of his misfortune. The first time that he saw the Queen, he was so charm d with her Beauty, that he could not forbear telling the Commander of the Regiment of St. Luke, with whom he was in company at that present, Good God! what a lovely person is that! could I but have one nights Lodging with her, 'twould never vex me to be hang'd afterwards. There is no pleasure in divining as he did; such Oracles are to be dreaded; and I wonder that they who succeeded to his good Fortune never made any reflection upon it. Certainly they rely d upon the Proverb which says, that Gibets are for the Uunfortunate, not for the Guilty. Cavillac being rid of his Rival, whom he had sacrific'd rather to his Jalou∣sie, then to any Revenge, left nothing omit∣ted to please his new Mistress. That Illu∣strious Gallant, who before love had meta∣morphos'd him, was no handsommer then my self, began to consult his Looking Glass, and to make use of all the Dresses and Habiliments that could set off his dwarfish Stature; but let him spruce himself up as he could, it was impossible for him to fix the Quicksilver humour of the Queen; her con∣descensions to him were only to tame him, to the end that while he thought himself belov'd of her, he might make her absolute Mistress of Ʋss;on. To compass this design, she up∣braided

him with mistrusting her Worth, that he had not that delicacy for her as to let her follow her own inclinations without restraint, and that she would live with him with less reservedness, if she once found he thought that he was not beholding for his Ca∣resses to the heat of her Passion: Cavillac suffer'd himself to be deluded by these glo∣zing hopes; but no sooner had he sent away the Garrison out of the City which he him∣self had plac'd there, and given the Queen leave to bring in another that was at her own devotion, but she sent him to St. Cirque to gather his Apples, and would not so much as hear talk of him afterwards. When she had strengthen'd her self with a Reinforcement that she sent for from Orle∣leance, she settl'd the Imperial Metropolis of her delights upon that Rock, and find-her self independant, abandon'd her self to her inordinate Pleasures, and took for her Model Aretines Nanna, and benefited so well by her instructions, that she could have read a lesson to Jocundus's or the King of Lombardy's Wife. 'Tis true that for fear of imposing a Master upon herself, she stook to her Secretaries, her Singingmen, and some other paltry fellows, whose Race and Names are unknown even to their Neigh∣bours, nor do they merit any room in these Memoires.

Nevertheless, I cannot omit the Famous Pomeni, the Sun of a Tinker in Auvergne, whom she fetch'd out of the Cathedral, where he sung amongst the Queristers. He, having an•• indifferent voice, attain to the dignity of being one of her Musitians, and rising from the Chappel to the Chamber, and from the Chamber to the Cabinet, was at length advanc'd to the degree of a Secreta∣ry, where along time he had several em∣ployments, and made dispatches upon mat∣ters of very different natures. This of all her Paramours was the Man whom she lov'd most tenderly. Of him it was that she said, that he chang'd his Body, his Voice, his Countenance, and his Hair, as he pleas'd himself, and that he had Audience in hug∣ger mugger when ever he had a mind to it. For his sake it was, that she caus'd the Beds of the Ladies that serv'd her, to be made so high, that you might see whatever was underneath without stooping, to the end he might not hid himself any more under those Coverts. Him it was that she so often grop'd for in the dark behind the Hangings. Lastly, for his sake it was that she caus'd those Songs to be made, that she so freequently Sung at Court. Yet all this while a wicked fellow that puts all her Houshold in disorder, and who makes it to apparent to the world, that they who have not the same heart, have never the same eyes.

I have perhaps enlarg'd too far upon the Particulars of these Intreagues. But in re∣gard this Manifesto will assuredly remain to several Ages, I thought it behov'd me to let Posterity know what I was willing to conceal from the Holy Father, and the Cardinal de Joyeuse, appointed to hear what I had to say upon the Causes for my Divorce; believing it was but Modesty not to defile their Ima∣ginations with the Recital of so many Impu∣rities. I had the discretion not to answer any thing to the two and Twenty Articles of which my Interrogatories consisted that in the least might sully the Honour of this In∣grateful Woman. 'Tis true, when they ask'd me whether I had consumated the Marriage, I could not forbear saying that we were both so young that we thought we had no reason to refuse what the Law permitted, us. If in this Manifesto I have been a little to free with the Truth, I appeal to her Friends, if her ill conduct have left her any, whether I have added or diminish'd in any thing, choosing rather to omit some Circumstances, then to repeat all her Follies. For such is the real name that ought to be given to her jealousies and her Extravagant Amorous fu∣ries, which began with Bonnivet and have continu'd ever since. Who could ever have suspected the Daughter of one of the greatest and wisest King's upon the Earth to have been guilty of so much unworthiness. Nevertheless of a Queen she is become a

Dutchess; and of the Lawful Wife of a King of France, a Passionate Lover of one of her meanest Officers. But tho' she ob∣serves no measures in satisfying her inordi∣nate desires, she thinks to dazle the Eyes of the world by prophaneing the most August Mistery of our Religion. Three times a Week she approaches the Holy Table with Lipps as much adulterated as her Heart; with a Countenance daub'd with Black and Red, and her Neck lay'd bare down to her Shoul∣d••rs. Her Dotage upon Pomeni was attri∣buted to some Charm, because she always wore between her Skin and her Shift, a Blew Silk Purse hanging in a string from her Neck, wherein was a Silver Box upon which several unknown Characters were Engrav'd. She opend it in the Presence of some her Friends, who saw her own Picture at one end and the Tinker's at the other. She told them with Tears in her Eyes, that she was never to open it but at such certain Times, and to keep it till her death. Nor is this the first time that extraordinary things of which we can give no true Reason have been ascrib'd to Supernatural Causes. The same thing is reported of the Dutchess of Valentinois, that she was only beholding to Magick for the great Ascendant which she had over Henry. II. the Queen of Navarrs Fa∣ther. No body knows it better then this Lascivious Woman.

They who read these Heroick Actions of

Hers (for she will never want Historians) will admire her obstinacy in Vice, which neither Age, nor the abatement of her Charmes nor the Affronts which she receiv'd could e∣ver vanquish. They will agree that so vertuous a Life ought to be enregister'd in the Temple of Paphos, to serve as a Model to those who desire to enrol themselves in the Famous Corporation of the Daughters of Cyprus. 'Tis true, that some there were, who thinking she had the Purse and soul of a Queen, De∣dicated Books to her, and in their Panegy∣ries ascrib'd those Virtues to her which she never had. But they had as good have let 'em alone, for long Tradition far more like to last from Father to Son for many Ages, will give 'em the lye and convince the world not only of their sordid flattery, but their vile Imposture; besides the re∣proach that they are like to undergo from those that shall read their Writings after their Decease. But which was worse, they did but labour in vain in this Life, as being all of 'em frustrated of their great Hopes and Expectations: for that never any body boast of her Liberality, but all Men complain'd of her Ingratitude. Her most favour'd Para∣mours were never enrich d with her pre∣sents, and the Prisons are full of those that she has Ruind. She has been sometimes seen to have been Prodigal of her Almes, but never willingly paid her Debts; she had always so little respect for Religion that she

never was at a Sermon but she slept, at Ves∣pers but she talk'd all the while, never at Mass without a Paramour by her side. She gives away, to my cost, the Tenths of her Rents and Pensions to the next Monasteries, but she detaines the Wages of her Servants and the price of the Goods which People trust her with for the support of her House-keeping. She minds nothing but out∣ward shew and Vanity, but in her heart she has not the least Sence either of Honour or Pi∣ety. I thought to have finish'd this Manifesto with a Description of her Inclinations; but Bajomon stops me, and enforces me to give him a dash of my Pencil. This fellow the greatest sot that ever appear'd at Court was introduc d by Madam Danglure, in∣structed by Madam Roland, and Le Maire compleated the Polishing of him. This Man she had made her Idol, tho' He had been cuft by de Lone, the Son of a Procter of Bourdeaux, and she had taken care of his fortune, to prevent his ending his days in an Hospital. I shall not enter any farther into the particulars of their Amours, there being nothing in 'em to be observ'd but what is base and below the honour of a Queen. It behoves me now to draw the Curtain, out of a remainder of value for her, and so end this Story, that I may not be tedious to the Reader. I shall only pray to God to touch their hearts, and shed down upon em his effectual Grace, without which they can ne∣ver

hope to be recoverd from that blind∣ness which now obscures their understand∣ings.

Tho' we may well judge by this Manifesto, that the King could not be refus'd the Di∣vorce which he demanded, yet in regard they are very slow at Rome in the dispatch of Affairs, therefore the King to oblige the Countess of Beaufort to awaite the success of that Negotiation with more Patience, he erected the Signioriy which bore that Name in a Dukedome and Peerage. Some∣time after this the new Dutchess became a fourth time quick with Child, which en∣creas'd the King's Love for her, and his Impa∣tience to enjoy her under the Justifications of the Law. For which reason he wrote very earnestly to Silleri not to omit any thing that might contribute to a quick dispatch of the Affair whe rewith he was intrusted.

[year 1598] Tho' the King had utterly ruin'd the Party of the Leaguers, yet the Duke of Mercoeur would not make his Accomodation, but throwing himself into the Arms of the Spaniards he headed a Powerful Party in Bre∣taign where he propos'd to make himself So∣veraign: but most of his strong holds being reduc d, he found there was no way for him to escape but by imploring the Kings Cle∣mency. Therefore to obtain his Pardon, he had recourse to the Dutchess Beaufort, who

offer'd him her Protection provided he would give his Daughter to the Young Duke of Ven∣dome, her Eldest Son. Thereupon the Duke of Mercoeur, who expected a higher match for his Daughter, sent Mary of Luxemburgh his Wife to Court, with orders to offer His Majesty full power to dispose of his Daughter to what Prince he pleas'd, in hopes by that Artifice to elude the Pretensions of the Dutchess: but she was too cunning to fall into that Snare, and prevail d with the King not to give eare to Madam de Mercoeur, till the Marriage was concluded. Which done she made the Dukes Accomodation, who came to kiss the King••s Hands, at Angers where the Cardinal de Joyeuse perform'd the Ceremony of Betrothing the Young Couple with great Pomp and Magnificence.

So soon as the Dutchess had so lay'd her design that she was in full hopes to be Queen, see quite alter'd her Conduct, and took upon her such an Aire of Modesty, that the King several times repented that ever he had accus'd her ••of Disloyalty. But 'twas not enough for him to be satissfi'd of it, the world must be also no less fully convinc'd; ••to which purpose the Dutchess resolv'd to re∣ceive the Sacrament at Paris. The King had stay'd all the Lent at Fontain Bleau; from whence he departed upon Palm-Sundy for Me∣lun: at what time the Dutchess order'd a Barge to be made ready to carry her upon the Tuseday in the Passion Week to Paris; where she

ar∣riv'd the same day, and alighted at her Si∣ster's the Marshal of Balagni's Wife. The next day she went to little St. Anthonies to hear the Service call'd the Tenebres with M••dam and Mademoiselle de Guise, the Dutchess of Rétz and her Daughters. The other Ladies went in their Coaches, but she was carry'd in a Sedan, a Captain of the Guards of the Body, walking always by the side of the Sedan, whose business it was to attend her to a Chap∣pel that was preserv'd on purpose for her, to the end she might neither be crowded nor expos'd to the View of the People. During the Office, she shew••d Mademoisselle de Guise certain Letters from Rome, which gave her to understand that what she desir'd would be suddenly accomplish'd. She also shew'd her two Letters which she receiv'd the same day from the King, so Passionate and so full of Impatience too see her his Queen, that she had all the reason in the world to be satis∣fi'd. The King sent her word that he was just sending away to Rome Dufrene Secreta∣ry of State, whom she knew to be entirely de∣voted to her Interests, as having marry'd one of her Kinswomen, to press his Holiness to give him his Liberty in a Matter which he was wholly resolv'd upon. When Service was done, she told Mademois••lle de Guise that she intended to alight at the Deanry of St. Germains where she had accstom'd to lodge, and that she intended to go to bed, not feel∣ing herself ver well, withall desiring her to

come and keep her Company. And at the same time she went out of the Church and got into her Litter, while Mademoiselle de Guise went back to her Coach. So soon as Mademoiselle came to the Dutchess of Beauforts she found her undressing herself, and complaining of a great Pain in her Head. But the Dutchess was no sooner a bed, but she was taken with a terrible Convulsion, from which she recover'd by the help of Strong Remedies: and then it was that she began a Letter to the King; 'tho she could not finish it, being hinder'd by another Convulsion. When she came to her self again, a Letter was present∣ed her from the King, but she could not read it, being seiz'd by another Convulsion that held her so lohg as she liv'd. Upon Tuesday she was brought to Bed of a Still-born-Child, the Violence of her Distemper having Kill'd it; and the next day, being Friday, she expir'd by Six a Clock in the Morn∣ing.

Some there were who ascrib'd the cause of her Death to another cause; and gave it outh that she had made a Contract with the Devil to Marry the King, and that that same Enemy of Mankind had taken away her Life. They farther add as an Embellishment to set out the Fable that the Dutchess was acquainted long before with the Tragical end that at∣ended Her. For that being one day in the Garden of the Tuillerys, she met with a fa∣mous Magician who was telling several Ladies

of the Court their Fortunes, at what time the Dutchess having a desire to know what should be ber Destiny, was very Importunate with the Magician, who excus'd himself for above an hour; telling her that considering the flourishing Fortune she enjoy'd, she could wish for nothing greater. But at length the Dutch∣ess insisting to know at least what end she she should come to, the Magician bid her at her leisure pull out her Porket-Lookinglass and there she should see the Object of her Curiosity. Upon which the Dutchess, when she pul'd out her Mirror, saw the Devil, ta∣king her by the Throate, which terrifi'd her to that degree, that she sounded away in the arms of one of her Women that attend∣ed her. The very same thing or very like it, is told of the Constable Montmorancy's Lady, who dy'd but a little before after a very strange manner. But People of Sence and Judgment gave no Credit to these Sto∣ries.

The same day being Wednesday, La Varenne came to tell the Marshal d Ornano, who was hearing the Passion Sermon at St. Germains de, Lauxerrois, that the Dutchess was dead, and that it would be convenient to hinder or prevent the King's coming to Paris, whether he was just designing his Journey; and there∣fore desir'd him to go and meet him, in or∣der to make him alter his Roade. The Marshal requested the Marquess of Bassom∣pierre, then at the Sermon, to go along with

him; which, he did, and so they met the King beyond Saussi, near Ville Juif, who was coming Post for Paris.

So soon as the King saw the Marshal, his heart misgave him, that he knew already the Tidings which he came to tell him, and by his Lamentations and bitter Complaints soon made it appear, that Hero's have their fail∣ings as well as other Men. They carry'd him to the Abby dela Saussaye and lay'd him upon a Bed, till they could meet with the Conve∣nience of a Coach to carry him back to Fontain Bleau. Where being arriv'd before night, be found in his Appartment the grea∣est part of the Lords of the Court, who were all got thither upon the noise of this Mournful Accident.

So soon as the King was enter'd his Cham∣ber, he desir'd all the Company to return to Paris, and pray to God to send him Conso∣lation, retaining only to keep him Compa∣ny, Bellegard, the Count de Laudes, Termes, Castelnau, La Chalosse, Monglas and Fronteval. Nevertheless, as Bassompierre was retiring with the rest, he bid him stay to give him an ac∣count of the Circumstances of his Mistresse's death, because he was the last that was with her. For Five or Six dayes the King was not to be seen but by those whom he had ex∣cepted, unless it were by some Embassador's, whose condoling Complements he was o∣blig'd to receive, but they return'd immedi∣ately after they had had their Audiences.

When the King's Grief was a little allay'd, his Favorites who understood that the right way to dissipate his Melancholy was to set before his Eyes some other Dazling Lady that might make him amends for the loss of his Dutchess, engag'd him in a Hunt∣ing Match near Malherbe, a Castle belong∣ing to the Marquiss d' Entragues. That Lord had two Daughters surpassingly Beau∣tiful, and Witty above the Common Rate, especially the Eldest who was call'd Henri∣etta de Balzack. Madam d' Entragues being acquainted with their Design to entangle the King with one of her Daughters, sent to him to come and repose himself at her House in his Return from Hunting. The King, who had heard much talk of Mademoi∣selle d' Entragues's Beauty, willingly fell into the Snare which was laid for his Liberty, and accepted the Marchionesse's Offer. He found the Eldest of her Daughters to be a Thousand times handsomer then she was re∣presented, and therefore not being able to quit her so soon, he remain'd for some days at Malherbe, with those that were his chief∣est Considents. During his stay, the two Young Mademoiselle's Sate at his Table and lay near his Apartment. This little Court remov'd afterwards to Hallier, and Madam d' Entragues to Chenaut, whether the King went to Visit her every day, that he might have the pleasing Opportunity to dis∣course his new Mistress.

After the Marchioness was return'd to Pa∣ris, the King went to Orleans, where he arriv'd upon St. John's Eve. There he met the Mar∣shal de la Chastre's Lady with her two Daugh∣ters; but tho thy were very lovely, they could not stop him any longer then two days. He took post for Paris, and alitt, at the Hostel de Gondy, that he might be so much the near∣er to Mademoiselle de Entragues, who lodg'd at the Hostel de Lyon.

The King often sent his Compliments to her by the Count de Lud••; but the Father and her Brother, who had not so much Compla∣cency for the King's Affection as the Mother, told his Agent very surlily, that they took amiss his bringing messages to their House, that dishonour'd their Family, and desir'd him to forbear coming anymore. Nor did the Marquiss think it sufficient to have quarrel'd with the Count; he order'd his Horses to be put in the Coach, and carry'd away his Daughters to Marcoussis. The King being inform'd of it, rode post thither some few days after, faining to take that Rode in his way to Blois; now in regard his journey to Blois, was only a pretence to cover his jour∣ney to Marcoussis, the King staid their but a very few days, and return d Post to Paris. He alitt at the President Verdun's, where he call'd for a bed, but he was no sooner re∣tir'd to his Chamber, but Bourigueux, who lay in his Chamber, rose and committed a thousand extravagances: for the heat of the

Sun had lain upon his head all day, as he rode with his Majesty, and had turn'd his Brains. The King surpriz d at his ravings, would have lockt him up in his Chamber; but not find∣ing himself strong enough, he call d for help, and after they had got the madman out of the Room, he went to Bed, retaining la Ro∣quelaure with him all night. Now in regard the King had no attendants at Paris, he din'd at the Presidents, and sup'd with some Prince or other Lord of the Court, as the fancy led him, never giving 'em notice of his com∣ing, to avoid expences.

But his Ministers fearing least a fancy should take him to marry Mademoiselle de Entragues, who was no less ambitious then the Dutchess of Beaufort, perswaded him to mind only his Interest, and the good of the Kingdom in the choice of a Wife. To that purpose they propos'd to him Marie de Medicis, the Grand Dukes Daughter, and he consented that they should demand her in Marriage, giving Silleri Commission to mannage the business with the Pope. During this Negotiation, they endea∣vour'd to bring him off from Medamoiselle de Entragues, who disputed her Ground with him Inch by Inch. Nor had he obtain d any other then slight favours hitherto; whither he could not find an opportunity to compleat his Conquest or whither she thought to make him the more eager, and inflame him the more by affected resistance, to find his affection employment. They perswaded him

to spend one night at Zamet, with Mademoiselle de Glandee, whose vertue was not so morose as that of Madam de Entragues. B••t fortune would not let him long quietly enjoy ••he pleasure which they had procur'd him. For he was no sooner laid in his Bed, but he heard the clattering of Swords upon the Stairs. He presently call'd, and Bassompirre went to him, whom he ask d the reason of that noise, and understood that Bellegarade, and the Prince of Joynville, afterwards call'd Duke of Cheu∣reuse, had quarrell'd about some pretences and discourses which the latter pretended that Bellegarde had had with his Majesty about Ma∣demoiselle de Entragues and him: That they had drawn their Swords, that the Prince of Jonyville had receiv'd a wound in his Buttocks, and that the Vidam Dumans was dangerously wounded in going about to part 'em. Upon that the King rose in his night Gown, and taking his Sword in his hand hasten'd down Stairs, preceded by Bassompierre, who carri'd a light before him. But he met with no body but Praslin, who had shut the doors of the Houfe; the two duellers being retir'd. The King was extremely offended, and sent the same night for the first President to come to him the next morning, together with the Parlament. Accordingly that Illustrious Body attended the King the next morning at Zamet House, where they receivd orders to take the Quarrel into examination, and to do Justice. Flessevin and de Turin, Counsel∣lours

of the great Chamber, were appointed to draw up the Informations, and took the Depositions of Cramail, Bazaut, Chasseran and Bassompierre. But the Dutchess of Guise and the Princess her Daughter, being informd of these Proceedings, made use of all their Credit to put a stop to em, and obtain d a Supersedeas from the King, during which time the Consta∣ble made up the accommodation at Constans.

Sometime after the King return d to Blois, fro whence he pass'd on to Chenonceaux, to give Queen Louise a visit, and there he saw Made∣moiselle de Bourdaisiere, Maid of Honour to that Princess, who found some work for his Heart. Mad••••••••••••lle de Entragues, having notice fo all these Intreagues, and fearing least the King should escape her at length, resolv'd to be less severe. The King fre∣quently visited her at Malherbe, where he obtain d the full of his desires, and lodg'd her in the Hor•• d' A••chand. When he return'd to Paris toward•• the end of Autumn, she became big with Child, and went to lye in at Monceaux, whither the King carry d her himself, prote∣sting that he lov d her so well as to Marry her. But she hurt her self by an unlucky acci∣dent; so that a dead Child being torn from her Body, she lay a long time in a very sad condition. But at length she recoverd her health, through the care which the King took of her, hardly ever leaving her till he saw the effects of the remedies which were given her. When she was in a condition to go a∣broad,

she understood there was a Treaty going on at Rome, for the Marriage of the King with Marie de Medecis: which put her into such a vio∣lent Rage, that forgetting all her obligations to the King, and all the marks of friendship which she had rcceiv'd from him, she treated him with that indignity which no other Lover would have brook'd. But he was so far from finding his Passion for her abated by such her ex¦travagant behaviour, that he heap'd new favours upon her, and made her Marchioness of Vernueil.

While the King was labouring to pacifie his Mistress, the Duke of Savoy arriv'd at Court. He had engag'd himself, when the Dutchess of Beaufort was living, to take that journey, in hopes by her Mediation to put an advan∣tageous end to the differences between him and his Majesty, concerning the Marquisate of Saluces. But when he heard of the Dutchesses death which broke all his measures, he would fain have excus'd himself; but then it was too late, because he had made too far a Progress to go back. He was well receiv'd by the King; and in regard he knew the Ladys had a pre∣vailing power in a Court so amorosly inclin'd as that of France, he made most Magnificent Presents to the Fairest, as well as to the Cour∣tiers who were their Masters greatest Confi∣dents, which gave a beginning to a Conspi∣racy that brake forth afterwards. However, his Artifices took no effect, so that he was constrain'd to return without; obtaining any thing. The King, who was absolutely re∣solv'd

to recover the Marquisate of Saluces, gave orders for his Forces to march toward the Frontiers of Savoy; and after he had taken his leave of the Ladys at Paris, he went to Lyon. In the mean time, seeing his Marriage with Marie de Medicis had been solomniz'd by ver∣tue of his procuration, which Bellegarde car∣ried, and for that Viego de Ʋrsini, Duke of Bracciano, had Espousd her in the Kings name, the Princess was brought to Marseilles, whither she was conducted by Elizabeth de Medicis, her Aunt, the same Dukes. Wife, and Eleanor de Medicis, Wife of Vincent I. Duke of Mantoua, and Jordano de Ʋrsini, her Cousin-German. 'Tis reported, that Jordan had had those tender sentiments of Affection for her, which no way became so near a Relation. She was receiv'd at her landing by the Cardi∣nals of Joyeuse, Gondy, Giury, and Sourdis; by the Constable Montmorancy, by the Chan∣cellor Bellieure, and by the Duke of Guise, Governour of the Province; by the Dutchesses Dowager of Nemours and Guise, and by several other Ladys. The Marchionses of Vernueil had always follow'd the Court; but when she un∣dersto••d that the Queen was arriv'd at Lyon, she return'd to Paris, because she would not be present at a Ceremony that ruin'd all her hopes. The Constables two Daughters were at the Marriage; and the Dutchess of Venta∣dour, who was the youngest, kindl'd a Flame made no long stay at Court, this new Passion

extinguisht assoon as that which he had for t••e Queen; being obligd to separate from both, without any hopes of ever seeing 'em again. Nor was Ʋrsini the only person that fell in Love with that Charming Dutchess. The Dukes of Guise and Epernon offer d their Se∣vices to her at the same time, and quarrell'd so violently dnring that Rivalship, that the King was constrain'd to interpose, in order to make an accommodation between 'em, tho he had somthing of an inclination to have become their Rival himself. There was also •• quarrel about precedency between Madam de Ventadour, and Mademoselle de Guise; and tho' expedients were found to satisfie the Pre∣tensions of both Parties, yet it was impossible to sweeten that same tartness which the jealousie of Beauty had created between 'em.

The King publickly declar'd that he was very well fatisfi'd with his marriage; but the change of his condition had not alter'd his sentiments for Madam de Vernucil, to whom be sent frequent Messages. And those marks of friendship which she receiv'd at a time when she had the least reason to expect 'em, made her so proud, that she could not forbear talking of the Queen in terms that were no way conformable to that respect which she ow d her. Of which the Princess was inform'd, and declar'd her self to be extremely sensible of the Affront. And this hatred of Madam Vernevil which she publickly discover'd form'd two factions at the Court, the one declaring for

the Queen, and the other for the King's Mistress.

An. 1600. The King after he had conque∣r'd alll Savoy, and concluded an Accommoda∣tion with the Duke, by the exchange of la Bresse, for the Marquisate of Saluces, through the Mediation of the Legate, who was come to Lyon, to give the second Nuptial Benedicti∣on, took Post Horses for Paris. Nevertheless, he took Barge Rouanne, and went by Water down the Loire as far as Briare; from whence he came to lie at Fontain Bleau, the next day din'd at Ville Neuve St. George, from whence crossing the S••ine below the Tuilleries (for the red Bridge was not then built) he lay at Vernueil, accompanid only by four persons; but he stai'd not there above three days, and then return'd to Paris. He lodg'd at Mon∣glas's, in the Cloyster of St. Nicholas du Leu∣vre, where he had always the Ladies at Supper, with five or Six Princes and his Favorites.

The Queen departed from Lyon, almost as soon as he, but she travelle'd more slowly, and met by the way the Ladies that were to serve her in the imployments of her Houshould. The Dutchess of Nenours was made Superin∣tendent, Madam de Guerckeville, Lady of Ho∣nour, and Madam de Richlieu Lady Dresser. But the Queen would by no means permit the latter to do her duty, as having already design'd Eleanor Galigay for that Employ∣ment, who had serv'd her along time, and to whom she had promis'd the Place, How∣ever

the business was to remain undetermin'd, till the King should put an end to the dispute, which however was no small vexation to the Queen. But it caus'd a far grater Heart∣burning within her, when she was constrain'd to send back into Italy all the Persons that had accompanid her, so that the Ladys who were plac'd about her were soon sensible of the effects of her disquieted humour. Upon which, Madermoiselle de Guise, who had no kind∣ness for the Marchioness of Vernueil, endea∣vour'd to perswade the Queen, that it was an effect of her Counsels, and pretended to share so deeply in the Queens discontents, that she insinuated her self by that means into her favour.

The King rode to meet the Queen as far as Nemours, changing Horses threescore times. He carry'd her to Fontain Bleau, where after he had stai'd five or six days, he accompani'd her to Paris, where he lodg'd her in Gondy House, because the Loure was not then in a condition to receive her. The same day, the King commanded the Dutchess of Nemours to waite upon the Marchioness of Vernueil at her Lodgings, and present her to the Queen. Fain would that prudent Princess have excus'd her self from such an ungrateful Office, which was the only way to incur the loss of her Cre∣dit with her Mistress; but the King would be obey'd. Thereupon she carried her to the Queen, who was surpriz'd to see her, and gave her but a very cold Reception. The Marchi∣oness,

naturally confident, was no way dasht out of Countenance, but manag'd the Queen so many ways, that she obligd her at length to speak to her. Nevertheless, because this visit prov d not so successful as the King ex∣pected, the King laid all the blame upon the Dutchess of Nemours, who was no less soure∣ly lookt upon by the Queen. Which makes it manifest, that how prudently soever people may carry themselves in Court-Intreagues, 'tis a difficult thing many times to prevent disgraces.

But some days after, a favourable occasion presented it self which surceas'd the exaspe∣ration that appear'd between the Queen and the King's Mistress. Eleanor, who had al∣ready made several fruitless efforts to get her self confirm d in the Office of chief Dresser, which the Queen had bestow'd upon her ad∣dress'd herself to the Marchioness, and by her means obtain'd what would never have been granted her by any other means. The King therefore finding the Queen somewhat appeas'd, sent for his Mistress, lodg'd her in the Louvre, and furnish'd an Appartment on purpose for her. Soon after she happen'd to be with Child almost as soon as the ••ueen: and all the time of their great Bellies, the King diverted himself, in a manner equally betwen 'em, tho his assiduities were s••mowhat more Partial to the Marchioness.

El••••nor, who still made fair w••ather with the Marchioness by the ••ueens co••sent, still stood in need of her Protection, to ••••tain the King s

approbation of her Marriage with Comini, who sought it, not so much for her Beauty, or for any other Ornaments of her mind, but because he thought her advantagious to the raising his Fortune, and Eleanor had prefer'd him before all her other Suitors, because that being born of the dreggs of the people, she was glad to marry a Man that had the reputation of a Gentleman in his own Country Neverthe∣less the King had no kindness for her, and all the Queen's Household hated her; so that the Queen her self durst not speak for fear of being deny'd, and therefore there was a necessity for a Cre∣dit no less powerful then the Marchionesses to surmont those obstacles. Comini made the first Overture, but was rejected. Madam de Vennueil also was very unwilling to take the Office upon her, because she knew the aversion which the King had for both the persons: Nevertheless, after Eleanor had besought her, and had told her that the Queen would speak to her about it, she resolv'd to bring the busi∣ness to perfection. The Queen being inform'd of the assurances which the Marchioness had given Eleanor; return'd her a Thousand Ci∣vilities, and after that time she never receiv'd any Present which she did not share with her, and treated her with that signal respect, that she made no distinction betwen the Marchi∣ness and the rest of the Princesses; which pleas'd the King▪ extreamly. Nevertheless, there was a necessity for deferring the Mar∣riage till the Queen was brought to bed, who

was deliver'd of a Dauphin, whose Birth was attended with that of the Marchionesses Son, who was Henry of Bourbon, Duke of Vernueil, and dy'd within these few years. This en∣largement of the Kings Family was solomniz'd with several testimonies of Joy and exultation▪ The Queen gave order for a grand Ball, which took up two or three months to practise it; and would needs have the Marchioness to dance an Entry, with which the King was so highly satifi d, that he caus'd the Marriage of Eleanor and Comini to be consummated, and regald the new marri'd Couple with several magnificent Presents. There was nothing minded but which way to divertise themselves the re∣mainder of the Winter, and good part of the Summer: and the King was glad to pro∣cure his Mistresses content at any rate. But an accident happn'd that for some time in∣terrupted the good correspondence of those two Lovers.

The King had some kind of inclination to∣ward the Dutchess of Villars, the Dutchess of Beaufonts Sister; and tho there was nothing beautiful about her, but her Hair, accompani d with a certain lusture of Youth, yet she thought the Power of her Charms sufficient to make good for no small time the Illustrious Conquest she had made. But when she saw that the King stuck close to the Dutchess of Vernueil it begat within her a violent animosity, that grew still the more implacable as the Kings favour to her Rivaless increas'd. The

Queen on the other side perceiving Madam Villars's jealousie, fomented it, to the end it might prove serviceable to her Revenge, yet so as she might not be seen to be any way con∣tributary toward it.

Eleanor, in whose power it was to have broken the Plot, had no knowledge of it; and Comini, who discover'd something was afraid of medding, for fear of drawing some trou∣ble upon himself that might be injurious to his advancement. The Dutchess of Villars, therefore seeing her self supported by the Queen, began to set her hand to the Plough. The Prince of Joyinville had ••e the good luck to have won the favour of Madam Vernueil, and had receiv'd several tender Letters from her, wherein there were some expressions that re∣flected somewhat too disrespectfull upon the King. However the Prince was not so faith∣ful to a person so amiable and so deserving, but that he had cast his eyes upon Madam de Vilkars, who taking the advantage of his do∣tage, wheedl'd him in to deliver up the Let∣ters of her Rivaless. So soon as she had 'em in her Power, she went and shew'd 'em to the Queen, who importun'd her extreamly to let the King see 'em. She made some scruple at first for fear of incurring the dipleasure of so formidable an Enemy as the Marchioness of Vernueil. But the Queen prest her so hard to a thing that her own interests sufficiently prompted her to, that she could notwithstand her importunities. All this while Mademoi∣selle'

de Guise, who had introduc'd Madam de Villars to the Queen could not devise from whence this strict correspondence should pro∣ceed; because they had not brought her into the Plot, for that the discovery of such a secret would have infallibly drawn upon her the whole weight of the Marchioness of Vernueil s hatred a d revenge.

Madam de Villars, then being willing to o∣bey the Queens orders, sought all opportuni∣ties to discourse the King in private; and to that purpose, went to find him out at Church whither, he was gone to Mass, under pretence of speaking to him about some private concern After the sacrifice was over she told him she had had something of importance to communi∣cate to him. Upon that every body withdrew, and then the Dutchess finding her self alone with the King, deliver'd into his hands her Rivalesse's Letters. Adding withall, that as she had receiv'd a thousand favours from his Majesty, and had always a great love for his Person, she could not find in her heart to con∣ceal any longer the injury done him by her, whom of all Women in the World he had the most oblig'd, never considering how much his Heroick Vertues, his Birth and Sove∣raign Dignity had rais'd him above all other Men.

The good King, who suffer'd himself to be easily over-rul d by persons that offer'd to him the Incense of flattery, return'd Madam Villars a thousand thanks, and promis'd her the ac∣knowledgment

of so great a piece of Service. So soon as she was gone, he sent the Count de Lude to Madam de Vernucil with orders to up∣braid her with her Infidelity, and to tell her in his name, that he never intended to see her more. She was extreamly surpr••z'd at this Com∣pliment, yet in the midst of her inward dis∣orders, shew d no sign of any outward dis∣composure. She answerd with a kind of in∣differency, that as she had done nothing to offend the King, she could not divine the reason for incurring his displeasure; only she hop'd that Heaven would do her justice by bringing the mistery to light, and revenging her upon those who had infus'd into his Maje∣sty a bad opinon of her conduct; and so say∣ing she withdrew into her Cabinet, to hide the confusion of her thoughts. Some days after, Bellegarde, having discover'd the pre∣judice which Madam de Villars had done the Marchioness of Vernueil, bent all his thoughts which way to salve the business; not so much out of any value for that Lady, or the Prince of Joyinville, for whom he had no kindness, but for the sake of his Sisters interest; and thus he went about it.

He knew that the Duke of Guise had a Se∣cretary that counterfeited all manner of Cha∣racters perfectly well; and therefore he a∣greed with the Prince of Joyinville that he should acknowledge he had made use of that mans Art, to counterfeit Madam de Vernueils hand, by concert with Madam de Villars, who mor∣tally

hated the Marchioness. The King's Mi∣stress having notice of this design, sent to be∣seech his Majesty that she might be permitted to justifie her self: which he scrupl'd at first to do, as not imagining which way she could be innocent. Nevertheless, he gave her a vi∣sit, at what time the Marchioness express'd her self so movingly, and gave him those plausible reasons for the proof of her Loyal∣ty, that he suffer'd himself to be deluded by out∣ward appearances. He sent the Prince of Joyin∣ville to serve against the Turks in Hungary, ba∣nish d Madam de Villars into the Country, where he confin'd her to one of her own Man∣nours, and sent the Secretary to Prison. This is that which many times befalls people that will be officiously busying themselves to make discoveries to their Masters, when they never desire it. Madam de Villars was separated from a Lover whom she tenderly Lov d, and shamefully banish'd from the Court at a time that she thought to have tryumph'd over her Rivaless.

During these Broyls, the Queens hatred of the Marchioness of Vernucil publickly brake out: for in regard she thought she had been utterly lost in the Kings Affection, she left nothing omitted to compleat her Ruin: nor could they ever from that time forward be reconcil'd again. The Marchioness did the Queen all the ill Offices she could devise, and the Queen, who was inform'd of it, spair'd not in all places to manifest the Marks

of her Resentment, which divided the whole Court. On the Otherside, the King tyr'd out with these Dissentions, began to pay his Visits again to Mademoiselle de Bourdaistere, whith whom he had been formerly in Love; but he was soon a weary of her, and there∣fore marry d her to the Count d' Estampes. After that, he took to Jaqueline de Bueil, Countess of Moret, who had been bred up in the Princess of Conde s House.

1602. The Marchioness of Vernueil being inform'd of all these Intreagues, was so ter∣ribly incens'd, that the suffer'd herself to be perswaded into a Treaty with Spain, and a Conspiracy against the King, with the Count of Anvergne, her Brother by the Mo∣ther's side. Which Negotiation could not be carry'd so secret, but that the King had knowledge of it: nevertheless he would not presently make use of the Rigour of Justice. He offer d the Count of Anvergne his Par∣don, provided he would come to Court and acknowledge his Crime. But the Count re∣fus'd to confide in his Clemency; which was the reason that the King order'd him to be Apprehended. D E••re, Murat, and Norestan, who had the Kings Warrant, stopt him at Clermont in Anvergne, under pretence of shewing him a Review of the Duke of Vendomes Reigment, and there Seiz'd him. A certain Lay that Lov'd him, was so af∣flicted for him, that she made use of all her

Artifice and Cunning to have procur'd his Escape, as they carry d' him by water to Pa∣ris, but her designs took no Effect. The Marquiss d' Entragues was clapt into the Con∣ciergiere, and Madam de Vernueil was arested by the Chavalier Daguet, in Audicourt House, in St. Pauls Street, were she lodg'd and was kept under Guard. These three Persons were also Impeach'd, and the Proofs being found sufficient, Madam de Vernueil was Con∣demn'd to be strongly guarded to the Abby of Beaumont les Tours, there to spend the rest of her days; and her Father and Brother to have their Heads cut off; which Sentence was afterwards, chang'd into perpetual Im∣prisonment.

During the Disgrace of the Marchioness of Vernueil, Hen. IV. had a greater kindness for the Queen, and liv'd very lovingly with her •• Mademoiselle de Guise, also, who was become his Favorite, took advantage of this favourable Conjuncture, to procure an Esta∣blishment of her Fortune, and wrought with His Majesty to consent to her Marriage with Francis of Bourbon, Prince of Conti. And soon after the King, who could meet with no body at Court that was worthy of his Affections, renew'd his Friendship with the Marchioness of Vern••••l, whom he Visited with that Privacy that the Queen had no knowledge of it: but so soon as she disco∣verd the new Familiarity she carry'd her R••••••tment so high, that she forbad, all the

Lady's, that should offer to visit the Marchi∣oness, to come to her Court.

The King to asswage her Transports, for∣bore Visiting Madam de Vernueil for some time, and in the mean time to imploy his Amorous Heart, he Courted Catherine de Lorrain, the Duke of Maines Daughter, and Wife to Charles Duke of Nevers, a Princess of great Virtue, who had a very great Honour for His Person, but would by no means com∣ply with his Passion. The King that he might detain her at Court, took for his Pretence the Christning of the Dauphin, to whom the Dutchess of Montoua and Nevers were Cou∣sin Germans: Nor could the Dutchess of Nevers in point of Decency refuse to be pre∣sent at the Ceremony. But the more the King sought opportunity's to discourse her in Private, the more she took care to avoy'd 'em; tho' sometimes her precautions prov d fruitless by reason of that respect which she was oblig'd to bear to a Lover of his Qua∣lity. The King however thought he might bring about his design if he did but remove the Duke of Nevers, and therefore sent him to Rome to obtain his Absolution; but the Dutchess would follow him, notwithstanding all that the King could do to hinder her. And because the Duke was forc d to stay at Rome about a Year, he had time to Cure himself of his Passion, and publickly declar'd at the return of the Dutchess, that he found her very much alter'd for the worse. Nor was

she troubl'd in the least at the King's ill o∣pinion of her Beauty, but pay'd him the same Civility s as she had done before.

1604. After her departure, the King finding himself constrain d to return to his Mistress, divided his Heart between the Marchioness of Vernueil, and the Countess of Moret, and in regard they had each of 'em Favorites, the one being belov'd by the Duke of Guise, the other by the Prince of Joyinv••lle, they suffer d the Partition without any Jealousie. The King being arriv d at Buzanci, after he had reduc d Sedad, dispatch d Bassompierre to Queen Margaret, to compli∣ment her upon the death of Juliendat, whom she tenderly loy'd, and withal gave the Marquiss two Letters to his two Mistresses.

Bassompierre, in the discharge of his Trust, began with the Marchioness of Vernueil, be∣cause her Sister with whom he had an In∣treague, lay at her House, and was so indis∣creet as to tell her that he had a Letter for the Countess of Moret. The Marchioness, curious as all Women are, would needs see it, and order'd Mademoiselle d' Entragues to lay her Commands upon him to give it her. What can a Man deny a Woman that he loves? Bassompierre therefore betray'd his Master to gratifie his Mistress, and deliverd into her hands the Letter which he had for Madam de Moret. The Marchioness after she had read it, return'd it to him again,

and told him he might easily save himself from any trouble, by causing a Seal to be made like the King's, and so closing up the Letter as it was before.

Bassompierre follow'd her advice, and sent his Valet de Chambre betimes next Morning to a Graver to make a new Seal. But as il∣luck would have it, the Servant apply d him∣self to the very same Workman who had made the King's. The Graver suspecting there was some great Mistery in the Business, took the Letter under pretence of examining the Impression, and at the same time falling upon the Lad took him by the Collor, in order to stop him; but the Boy being too strong for Turpin (that was the Gravers Name) rescu'd himself out of his hands and leaving his Hat and Cloak behind him, ran away as fast as his Legs could carry him, afraid he should have been hang'd had he been taken. Bassampierre order'd his Valet to be hid out of the way, and immediately hastning too the Countess of Moret, told her that he had inadvertently open'd a Letter which he brought her from the King, mistaking it for a Billet which he had receiv'd from a Lady; and therefore fearing to be accus'd either of design or Curiosity, he intended to have Seal'd it again with the imitation of the King's Signet, and then up, with the story of Tarpin and his Servant; and desir'd her to send to the Graver and demand the Letter.

The Countess never diving farther into the Matter, only laught at the Accident, and im∣mediately sent to Turpin for the King's Letter; but he sent her word that he had parted from it, and deliver d it to the President Seguier who was President of the Criminal Court. Now in regard that neither the Countess nor Bas∣sumpierre could tell how to deal with the Presi∣dent in whom they had no Interest, and astern man besides, they thought it convenient to, address themselves to Madam Lomenie, to the end that by her Credit she might stiffle the business, either by getting the Letter out of the Presidents Hands, or by obliging her Hus∣band, who was then Secretary of State, to give such an account of it to the King, as might excuse the Marquiss.

Bassompierre, having taken his leave of the King, went to Madam de Lomenie, whom he found very busie in preparing dispatches for the Court. She pray'd him therefore to sit down till she had finish d a Letter which she was writing to her Husband. The Marquiss suspecting that that same very Let∣ter might relate to Turpin's Adventure, ask'd her if there had happen'd any thing new and so urgent, that she could not give him a Minuites time to speak with her; to whom Madam de Lomenie made answer, that some body had been attempting to Counterfit the King's Sig∣net, but that by misfortune the Criminal had made his escape and that all that could be done was to secure the Letter which was

Writt'n with the King's own Hand: that she was writing to her Husband that he would understand from the King's Lips to whom it was dire ed, and with whom he had en∣trusted it, by which means the mistery would be easily unfolded; adding withal that she would have given 2000 Crowns to have had a more certain khowledg, of the Truth. Bas∣sompierre tell a laughing to see her make such a mighty business of such a Trifle as that wash and told her that he would satisfie her at a cheaper Rate; and with that he told her the whole story, as he had related it to the Countess of Moret. Madam de Lomenie, who was B••ssompierre's intimate Friend, as well as her Husband, promis d to pacifie the Business, provided he would go to Villiers Cotret, where the King was to be the next Morning, and trouble himself with another dispatch which she was sending to her Husband upon the same Subject, to give him a particular account of what she had heard. Bassompierre accepted the Condition, and having got an answer to the Letter which he had deliver'd to Madam Vernueil, and to that which the Countess had not receiv'd, he departed for Villiers Co••ret, and found the King already ar∣riv'd and laughing with the Coyntess at the Adventure, and the trouble she had put the Marquiss to.

Some days after the King went to St. Ger∣mains with the Queen, the Princess of Conti, and the Duke of Montpensier, and as they

were crossing the Water in the Ferry-Boat of Neuilli, the Coach overturn'd in the Ri∣ver. The King and the Duke escap'd drench∣ing, because they leap'd in time out of the Boot, but the Ladys were in great danger of being Drown d. The Marchioness of Ver∣nueil, being inform'd of the accident, told the King by way of Raillery, the first time he came to Visit her, that so soon as she had seen the King's Person safe, she would have cry'd out, The Queen Drinks. Which unlucky flowt being carry'd to the Queen, She was so incens'd at it, that in fifteen Days she would not speak to the King; so that there was much ado to reconcile 'em. After their reconciliation, there was a Ball pro∣pos d, wherein the Queen was desirous to be one of the Masquers herself, but upon the King's Request that the Marchioness might Dance amongst the rest, the Queen broke off the Match.

But the Friendship between the King and the Countess was not of long continuance; Her Intreague with the Prince of Joyinville, with which his Majesty had been acquainted, ha∣ving set 'em at Variance; only when she had nothing else to say for herself, she endea∣vour d to excuse it, by saying the Prince had promis'd her Marriage. Of which the King desirous to be satisfy'd, sent for the Dutchess of Guise, and blaming the Im∣prudence of her Son, threaten'd to punish him if he relaps'd into the same miscarriage

and if he did not repair the fault he had commited by marrying the Countess: ad∣ding withal that he could well endure the ha∣ving his Mistresse's sought for in Marriage, but that he would not permit the covering of Criminal Intreagues under that Vaile, and that if he were any thing indulgent to the Prince of Joyinville, twas for love of her that was his Mother. But the Dutchess, naturally haughty, took amiss the King's Civilities, and answer'd him in such a manner as highly provoak'd him. In that ill humour he com∣manded the Prince of Joyinville to be seiz'd; but he made his Escape upon notice that had been given him of the King's Anger. His Parents endeavour'd to pacifie. His Maiesty but they could obtain nothing more, but only that his rash Miscarriage should be pardon'd, provided he departed the Kingdom, never to return again. Which Order he obey'd, nor was he recal'd from his Exile, till the next Reign.

And now the King to make himself amends for the Disloyalty of the Countess of Moret, would needs knit an Intreague with the Dutchess of Montpensier, who had been a Widow some few months. And because she was then in the Countrey, he order'd the Count of Cramail, her Neighbour, to make her the first Overture. The Count sounded the foard, but with a design to make himself the advantage of it; but finding her no way, inclin'd to act any thing contrary to her Ho∣nour,

he said nothing at all to her. All that he could do for the King s satisfaction was to engage her to come to Court. Nor was the King more successful, and therefore seeing no hopes of prospering in his Enterprize; he gave it ••••ite over.

Madam de Vernueil, knew so well how to make her best advantage of the King's Me∣lancholy upon the ill success of his other Amours, that she triumph d over all her Ri∣vals: tho' the Countess of Moret, within a few dayes after, was brought to Bed of a Son, who was the same Antony of Bourbon, Count of Moret, who in the next Reign, was slain at the Battel of Castelnauari, fight∣ing in the Duke of Montmorency s Army. More then this, the Marchioness, thinking to in∣crease the King's Passion, by rowsing his jea∣lousie; spread abroad a Report, that the Duke of Guise had a desire to Marry her, and had caus'd the Banes to be publish'd unknown to that Prince who never thought of her, but address'd all his Vows to Madam d' Entragues her Sister. Nevertheless he was not at all be∣lov d by Her; For Bassompierre who was the sole possessor of all her Affections, spent whole Nights with her almost every four and twenty Hours He ascended through a Private Door, that open d into the Cutlter's Street, in the third Story of his House which he had caus'd an unknown Friend to hire, and she met him by a back pair of Stairs, when Her Mo∣ther was a Sleep.

1607. The King being inform'd that some body slipt in every Night into Ma∣dam d' Entragues's Lodgings, thought it had been the Duke of Guise, and that he went to Visit the Marchioness of Vernueil. Thereupon, he spoke to the Prince about it, who appear'd so astonishd, that the King perceiving his Innocence by the marks of Amazement which he discover'd in his Coun∣tenance, and entrusted him to make the Dis∣covery. Upon that, the Duke of Guise set his Spies to work the same Night, who saw Bassompierre make his Entrance, but could not tell who he was, because he was wrapt up in his Cloak, upon which nevertheless they could discern the Order of the Holy Ghost upon it. That Cloak belong'd to Bellegard, only he had lent it to the Marquiss, by reason of a showre of Rain that fell just after they had sup'd. The Spies therefore abus'd by that appearance, reported to the Duke of Guise that they had seen a Young Chevalier whip in at the back Door, before which they watch'd.

The Duke of Guise not being able togather any thing from this blind Relation, sent two of his own Servants to the same place, to watch his happy Rival at his coming out. But Bassompierre observing that he had Senti∣nels upon him, took the more care of himself; which was the Reason, that they could in∣form the Duke nothing but what confirm'd him in his mistake; so that after he had made

a thousand Reflections upon this Adventure, he fix'd upon Bellegarde, who was the only Young Knight that could pretend to so much good Fortune. On the otherside, Bassompierre acquainted Mademoiselle d' Entragues, as soon as she was awake, of what had happen'd, to the end she might be ready with her Answer to the Duke of Guise.

That Jealous Lover, eager after the Dis∣covery of this same hidden Secret, went the next Morning to give Bellegard a Visit; but he could not be admitted. They told him the Marquiss had been troubled all Night with the Toothach, and that he would not be seen till the Evening. Which confirm'd the Duke of Guise in his Suspitions; imagining that Bellegard lay a bed all day, to fetch up the Sleep he had lost in the Night. From thence he went to Bassompierre, and finding him abed, desir'd him to rise and put on his Night-Gown, that they might have a little Discourse together. The Marquiss believing he had been discover'd, rose immediately to hear what his Rival had to say to him. But all his Alarums ceas'd as soon as he heard the Duke deliver himself in the following manner. What would you say Marquiss, said He, if the Grand Squire should be bet∣ter belov d then you, or all the World be∣side, by Madam d' Entragues. I would say, reply'd Bassompierre, very coldly, that cannot be, and that neither He nor She have any design one upon another. How easily are

Lovers deceiv'd reply'd the Duke. I would have sworn as well as you, that she had been as chast as Diana; yet 'tis very true that the Grand Squire was with her all Night; and that he did not leave her till four a Clock in the morning. He was seen to go in, and my Valets de Chambre, saw him go along fo carelesly, and minding so little the Discovery of his happiness, that he ne∣ver so much as took care to hide the Star upon His Cloak.

During this Discourse the Duke and the Marquiss walk'd together very fast; at what time the latter perceiv'd the Cloak, which the Duke had taken for Bellegardes, folded up in such a manner that the Cross appear'd outermost. Presently he clap'd himself down upon it, for fear a Testimony so clear be∣yond all contradicton should betray his Se∣cret, nor would he be perswaded to rise, tho' the Duke Importunately press'd him to walk on, till one of his Valets, to whom he had made a sign, had carry d it out of the Room, when his Rivals back was turn'd. In the mean time, he made a shew of being very much troubled, and storm'd with a good Grace, against the inconstancy of Ma∣demoiselle d' Entragues, and when the Cloak was out of danger he rose up and walk'd on with the Duke as long as he stay d.

So soon as the Duke was gone, Bassompierre gave notice to Madam d' Entragues of the Dukes mistake, and that same Young Wan∣ton, the more to confirm him in it, treated

Bellegarde before his Face as if they had been the most Intimate Persons in the World. The next Morning the Duke of Guise wag d War with the Grand Squire, who unwilling to dissabuse him return'd him Ambiguous Answers. Bellegarde gave an account of all that Discourse to Madam d' Entragues, who ap∣prov'd his Conduct, and desir'd him to conti∣nue it; by which means all the Kings and the Dukes Suspicious fell upon the Grand-Squire. Thereupon they inform'd Madam d' Entragues of her Daughter's Familiarity with him; which was the reason that she watch d her more narrowly. One Morning, as she drew the Curtain to Spit, she observ d that Made∣moiselle's Bed, who lay in the Room, was thrown open, and that the Bird was Flown▪ she presently suspected the Truth, and rising went softly into the Wardrobe; where see∣ing the Door belonging to the Private Staires open, she call'd out; at what time, her Daugh∣ter hearing her Voice rose with all speed from Bassompierre, and went to her. Madam d' En∣tragues, after she had given her Daughter two or three Wherets o'th' Ear in the Transports of her Passion, caus'd the Door of the Privy Staires to be broke open, because Bassompierre had bolted it within side, that he might have leisure to dress himself. When 'twas open, up she ran in great hast three Stories high; but she was strangely surpriz d to find no bo∣dy there; but much more to see the Ran∣devouze-Chamber furnish'd with Zamet's best Furniture, and trick'd up with Silver

Sconces and Candlesticks. Thus ended this Intercourse: But Love which is Ingenious, provided other ways for those two Lovers to meet one another at Mademoiselle Dazi's, whom they made their Confident. Never∣theless this hurly-burly totally extidguish'd all the King s Suspitions of the Duke of Guise's having an Intreague with the Marchioness of Vernueil.

There was some Discourse of Marrying Mademoiselle d' Entragues to the Count d' Achè in Anvergne. But that Match was broken off upon examination of the Articles: after which the Marchioness of Vernueil, and her Sister went to pass away the fair Season at the Marchioness of Conflans's near Charenton, about whose House the Duke of Guise and Bassompierre walk'd their Rounds every Night. But at last Bassompierre broke off altogether with Mademoiselle d' Entragues, aspiring to a more Advantageous Alliance; and beg'd leave of the King to marry Mademoiselle de Montmorency, and to treat with the Duke of Bouillon for his Employment of first Gentle∣man of his Chamber. Nor did the King believe it only enough to grant him what he ask'd, but consented also in favour of the Match, that the Constable, who was out of Favour, should return to Court. The next morning, at the King's rising, he was ad∣mitted to kiss his Hands, had a Gracious Re∣ception, and in the afternoon the King went to visit the Dutchess of Angolesme, where

Mademoiselle de Montmorancy Lodg'd, and where he saw Madam d' Essars, with whom he presently embarqu'd, and had two Daugh∣ters by her, who betook themselves to Reli∣gious lives, the Eldest being made Abbess of Fonteleraut: But after the death of her Hus∣band, she privately marri'd Lewis Cardinal of Guise, the Brother of Charles Duke of Guise. The Cardinal had obtain'd a dispensation from the Pope for holding two Benefices, notwith∣standing his marriage; but after his death, the Duke seiz'd upon the Contract and the Dispen∣sation, which was the reason that Mademoiselle de Essars was never accounted any other then his Concubine. However she had three Children by that Conjunction, the Eldest, who dy'd Bishop of Condom, the Marquiss of Romorantin, and a Daughter marri'd to the Marquiss of Rhodes. But notwithstanding the affronts that were put upon her, under the next Raign she marri'd the Marquiss du Hallier, afterwards Marshal de l' Hopital. Her Marriage with the Cardinal de Guise, and the Dispensation, after they had happen'd into the custody of several, at length fell into the Hands of Mademoiselle de Guise, who dyd in 1608. The Marchioness of Romorantin, understanding that she was draw∣ing toward her end, caus'd her Confessor to lay it home to her Conscience, and make her sen∣sible, that it would be a piece of injustice to detain those Writings that might be servicea∣ble to reestablish the low Estate of her Chil∣dren, and preserve their claim of Succession

to the House of Guise. Upon which the dying Princess was over-rul'd, and sent the reque∣sted Papers in a Box by an unknown hand to Madam de Romorantin. Who immediately went to Court, and throwing herself at the King's Feet, besought his Protection. To whom that Great Prince, whose profound wisdom appear d in his meanest Actions, made answer, that she must address her self to his Parliament, whose business it was to take Cognizance of those Differences. But to re∣turn to Madam de Montmorancy.

The Duke of Bouillon who was Brother-in-Law to the Constable, took it ill, that a Match should be treated of and he not be acquainted with it; and therefore he resolv'd to cross it. One day, that the King had been visiting Madam de Montmorancy at the Queens lodgings, and was very passionately crying up her Beau∣ty, the Duke drew him aside, and told him that he wonder'd he had given his consent to the marriage of that Lady with Bassompierre, since there were no other matches that were fit for his Nephew the Prince of Conde, but either she or the Dutchess of Main, and seeing Policy would not admit him to suffer the Head of the League, too powerfull already to advance his Credit by an Alliance, he was oblig'd to give Madam de Montmorency to the Prince. The King heard his advice without making any answer, but the next day going to see the Practice of a Ball, that was to be danc'd at the Louvre, Bellegard cry'd up the Charmes

of that Lady, to such a degree, that the King resolv'd to undertake the Conquest of her himself. And in regard that for the better bringing about his Design, 'twas convenient she should marry a Man for whom she had no kindness, he was desirous of being satisfi'd what opinion she had of Bassompierre.

To this purpose an Opportunity offer'd it self within a few days: for being constrain'd by a fit of the Gout to keep his Bed, he was Visited by Madam d' Angouleme and her Niece; and while the Count of Grammont dis∣cours'd the Dutchess, the King entertain'd Ma∣demoiselle de Montmorency, and told her, that he would love her as his own Daughter, and Lodge her in the Louvre, during Bassompierres year of waiting, and desir'd her to tell him ingenuously, whither she were pleas'd with her Match or no; for that otherwise he would break it off, and marry her to his Nephew the Prince of Conde. Mad. de Montmorancy, who did not penetrate the King's design, freely answer'd him, that since it was her Fathers will, she should think her self very happy with the Marquiss. Henry IV. faign'd to be extremely glad of it; but resolv'd within himself to find her out ano∣ther Husband.

The next morning betimes he sent for Bas∣sompierre, and after he had caress'd him after an extraordinary manner, told him, that he had a full intention to marry him. The Mar∣quis, ignorant of what he aim'd at, made an∣swer, that had it not been for the Constables

Gout, his Nuptials had been already consum∣mated. That's not my meaning, reply'd the King, my design is to marry ye with Made∣moiselle de Aumale, and in consideration of that marriage, to revive the Dutchy of Aumale in her Person. Bassompierre interrupting him, ask'd his Majesty, whether 'twas his pleasure that he should have two Wives? 'Tis requisite, re∣ply'd the King, that I should speak to thee as a friend: I am in Love my self, with Ma∣demoiselle de Montmorancy: If thou marriest her▪ and she love thee, I shall hate thee; and if she have an affection for me, then wilt thou be my Enemy: 'Tis better to avoid an occa∣sion that may break our friendship: I have a kindness for thee, and I should feel a terrible combat within my self, should I be constrain'd to remove my favour from thee. I am re∣solv'd to marry that Lady to my Nephew the Prince of Conde. She will be the Consolati∣on of my old Age, and I will give my Nephew who is young, and loves hunting better then Ladies, a hunder'd thousand Franks a year for his pastime, without desiring any thing more from her that I design for his Wife but an in∣nocent affection. Bassompierre, who saw well that he should but augment the King's Passion by reluctancy, resolv'd to yeild him up chear∣fully a Blessing which he could not preserve to himself, whither he would or no. 'Tis a long time Sir, said he, that I have wisht for an op¦portunity to let your Majesty see my entire devotion to your Majesties Service; and now

I have met with one, that answers my desires; since the sacrifice which I offer to your Maje∣sty, is the greatest that Man can be capable of receiving. I renounce at the same time for the love I bear your Majesty a splendid Alli∣ance; and a Lady altogether lovely, for whom I have an affection, the fervency and vehe∣mence of which I am not able to express. Yet I offer up all these advantages, without any trouble to my self, or any repining in the least: and I wish that this intreague may bring as much joy to your Majesty, as the loss of my hopes affliction to my self, should I surrender 'em to any other then my Master: a Master whose Vertues I no less admire then I reverence his high Extraction. These words so mollifi'd the King, that he melted into tears, embrac'd Bassompierre, and promis'd him to take care of his Fortune: he also talk d to him of marrying Mademoiselle de Aumale; but Bassompierre besought him to be contented with taking from him the person that he lov'd, without imposing upon him a person that he could not affect.

In the Afternoon the King sitting up in his bed to play at Hazard with Bassompierre, and some other Courtiers, and Madam d'Angouleme, together with her Neice, coming to give him a visit, he caus d the Dutchess to come be∣tween the Wall and the Bedside, where he dis∣cours'd her for some time in private. All that while, Madam de Montmorency, who knew nothing of the alteration of the King's mind,

talk'd to the Marquiss, till the King beckning her to come to him, inform'd her of his in∣tentions, and then went on with his discourse to the Dutchess; while her Neice retiring, shrugg'd up her shoulders, to let Bassompierre understand the astonishment she was in.

But tho that Action of Madam de Montmo∣rency discover'd nothing to Bassompierre but what he understood before, he could not avoid the assaults of an inward anguish, receiving that confirmation of his misfortune. He gave over play, and went out of the King's Cham∣ber, feigning that his Nose bled. His Ser∣vants brought him his Hat and his Cloak to the Stairs, and Betinghen put up his Money which he had left at random upon the Table. As for the dispairing Lover, he put him∣self into the Duke of Epernons Coach which he found next at hand, not being able to get to his own, and caus'd the Coachman to drive him home, where be continu'd lockt up up for two or three days together, without suffering any Strangers to come at him. When he return'd to Court, the Prince of Condè, who had made a formal demand of Madam de Mont∣morency, desir'd his company in the first visit that he pay'd his Mistress. But tho the Marquiss were somewhat recover'd from his affliction, and to find some pastime for his love, had renew'd his intreague with Madam d' Entragues, whom he had met at Madam de Senteny's, yet could he not resolve, unless by the King's express com∣mand, to submit to a compliance that would

assur'dly put his heart upon the most severe Tryal, that ever a Lover was expos d to. The Cermonies of Affiiancing were perform d in the Gallery of the Louvre, where the King was pleas'd out of an unlucky wantonness to lean upon Bassompierre's Shouldiers, on pur∣pose to make him stay with the affianc'd couple so long as the Ceremony lasted. But the un∣fortunate Lover could notwithstand so many assaults. His dispair upon the sight of that fatal Ceremony threw him into a Fever, which had like to have cost him his life.

When he was recover'd, Fortune, that took delight in persecuting him, rais d him a new Adventure, which tho of less consequence, yet put him to a great deal of trouble. Ca∣millo Simoni, Esquire to the Queen lodg'd in a little Street, right against the Door of the Mint, and next door to Madam d'Entra∣gues House, and coming home one Evening, he found a young man a bed with his Landlady, for whom he had a kindness. Presently he call'd up the people of the House, who gave his Rival several cuts with their Swords, and thrust him out of d••ors in his Shirt. He was so dangerously wounded that after he had gone about fifty Paces, he sunk down under Madam d' Entragues windows, expecting eve∣ry moment to breath his last. At the same time a Gentleman, who had some knowledge of Bassompierre s affairs; happen'd to pass by, and taking the dying person for the Varquiss, knockt at his door, call'd out his Servants,

and bid 'em go and help their Master if he were capable of relief, or remove him if he were dead.

The Marquisses Servants were easily per∣swaded to believe the story which the Gen∣tleman told 'em, because their Master went out that Evening in disguise, in prosecution of some happy adventure, as he was often wont to do. They ran without any con∣sideration to the place, where the body by this time, almost breathless, lay, and alltoge∣ther carri d it into their Masters House; tho when the Candles came, and that they per∣ceiv'd their error, they carry'd it away to a Surgeon. Neverthless, the noise of this acci∣dent being spread about all over the City, gave an occasion to several Joakes and Jeasts which reflected all upon Mademoiselles Honour.

This new vexation hinder'd the Marquiss from being fully sensible of that Affliction in∣to which the Nuptials of the Prince of Con∣de, solemniz'd at Chantilli, would otherwise have plung'd him. The King would fain have marri d him to Mademoiselle de Chantilli, and to that purpose would have erected the Lorship of Beauprez into a Dukedom and Peerage for his sake. But the Marquiss's heart was not at liberty to think of new engage∣ments.

1670. The King by Marrying Madam de Montmorency with the Prince for whom she had no Conjugal affection, verily thought to

find less difficulty in the prosecuting of his Amours; but they had made such a noise, that the Young Prince did not think it be∣hov'd him to brook the continuance of the Kings Courtship, without making himself the Table talk of the whole Court. He there∣fore resolv'd to break off that Intercourse by retiring privately from Fontain Bleau where the Court then lay, and withdrawing into the Low Country's. And preparing all things in a readiness for his retreate, He took Horse one morning with Rochefort, Touray, an Esquire, who took up Madam the Princess behind him, Mademoiselle de Certeaux, and a waiting Wo∣man, call'd Phil••pette. He lay at Muret, and thence continu'd his Journy to Landrecy. As for the King, he was then playing in his lit∣tle Cabinet, where d' Elboeuf brought him the Tidings which were confirm'd immediately after by the Captain of the Watch. Upon which the King cry'd out to Bassompierre that stood nearest to him, with a transport not easie to be exprest, My dear Friend I am un∣done, This Man is carrying away his Wife into a Wood; I know not whether it be to kill her, or to hurry her out of France; have a care of my money, and play on the Game, while I go and examin the particulars of this Escape. And so saying he went up into another Chamber, beckning to the Mar∣quiss of Coeuvres, the Count of Cramail, d' El∣boeuf and Lomenie to follow him, and asking their advice in a strange Confusion and Hurry,

furiously grasp'd at the first proposal, and commanded de Lomenie to make dispatches for the prosecution of it: but the next mo∣ment, considering the impossibility of it, he alter d his Opinion. One advis'd him to send the Captain of the Watch with his Archers alter the Prince with orders to stop him: another to give the same Commission to Ba∣lagny, and Bouvin, and a third to post away Vaubecourt, then at Court, to the Frontiers of Lorrain to hinder his Passage.

But the King well understanding how little solidity there was in any of those Projects, sent for his principal Ministers to understand their Opinions upon a matter, wherein his heart was so deeply concern'd. The Chan∣cellor arriv'd first of all, who after the King had set forth the matter of Fact, made an∣swer with a Gravity becoming his Dignity, that the Prince of Condè had not taken the Right Course; that it was to be wish'd, he had been better advis'd; that he ought to have mo∣derated his Heart. The King impatient of this Discourse, and interrupting him in a great Passion, this is not the business said he, that I ask yee,'tis your Advice, Monsieur Chan∣cellor that I require. Then the same Mini∣ster resuming his Oration, Be it so added He; then I think the best way is to issue forth effectual and strong Declarations against him, and all that shall follow him, or lend him any Assistance. While the Chancellor was deli∣vering his formal hum drum, Villeroy enter'd

the Room, to whom the King, who be∣gan to be tyr'd with the Chancellors flegme, address'd himself, and after he had in few words declar'd the business in hand, demand∣ed his opinion. Villeroy, after he had twice shrug'd up his Shoulders to signifie his asto∣nishment, made answer, that it behov'd His Majesty to send his Curriers to all his Embas∣dors at the Courts of Foreign Princes, to give 'em notice of the Princes departure without his leave, nay and against his prohi∣bition, to the end they might take all such courses as were requisite in the Courts where they resided, and represent to the Soveraigns to whom they were sent, that they ought not admit the Prince into their Territory's, but rather send him back to his Majesty. After Villeroy had done speaking, the King turn d toward the President Jean∣nin and bid him give his Advice; which he did without any Hesitation. Sir, said He, I think you cannot do better then to send after him one of the Captains of your Guards, to try whether they can bring him back by force, with orders in case his endeaveurs prove un∣succesful, to go to the Prince in whose Do∣minions he shelters himself, and threaten him with a War, if he refuses to deliver him. In my opinion his departure was not premedi∣tated, nor has lie done any preceding Act that may deserve Reception or Protection. Without question he has betaken himself into the Low Countries, and the Archduke who

neither knows him, nor has receiv'd any ex∣press Order from Spain to support him, and who dreads your Majesty as much as he ho∣nours your Person, will never for his sake incur the anger of the greatest Monarch in Europe, and abide the effects of it, but either oblige the Prince to depart his Dominions, or deliver him up into your Majesties Hands.

The King relish'd this expedient, but he would not positively determin upon any thing, till he had taken the advice of the Duke of Sully, who came not in till a long time after the rest with a morose Air, and a frowning Countenance. To whom the King, advanc∣ing toward him, Sir, said he, my Nephew is gone and has carry'd away his Wife along with him. Sir, reply'd the Duke, I do not won∣der at it at all: 'tis no more then what I fore∣saw: and I told you some while since, that he would commit this piece of Folly. Had you follow'd the counsel I gave you when he went to Muret, you would have put him in the Bastile, and you would have found him now, where I would have been sure to have kept him safe. What is done can∣not be undone, but give me your advice what course I shall now take by way of redress. By my Troth, Sir, I cannot tell, reply'd the Duke; but let me return to the Arsenal, where I will Sup and go to Bed, and then as I lye musing in the night, I shall think upon some expedi∣ent, which I will communicate to your Maje∣sty to morrow morning. No, pursu'd the King,

I will have you tell me your thoughts present∣ly. I must then consider a little, reply'd Sully, and at the same time turning himself to the Window that lookt into the Court, after he had stood drumming a while with his Fingers upon the Board, he return'd to the King, who ask'd him whither he had thought upon the business and what he ought to do? No∣thing, reply'd the Duke. How! nothing? reply'd the King, very much surpriz'd. I say, nothing at all, added Sully. If you do nothing at all, and thereby shew that you do not va∣lue the Prince, but rather contemn him, no body will assist him; no, not his dearest friends, nor the most zealous of the Officers he has left here, and within three months pinch d by ne∣cessity, and tyr'd with the flouts and scoffs that will be put upon him, he will return and implore your Clemency. On the other side, if you are eager to recall him, you will put a value upon him: he will be with Money assisted by several persons of your Court, and he will find those that will protect him, on purpose to create you trouble, who would have aban∣don'd him had they been convinc'd how little you minded his absence. But the King, whose thoughts were in too great a ferment to relish such judicious advice, resolv'd upon what the President Jeannin had given him, which as it was more blunt and harsh, so it flatter'd his Passion the more, and the next morning dis∣patch'd away the Marquiss of Pralin as well to the Prince, as to the Archduke.

The Marquiss could not overtake the Prince of Conde, and therefore repair'd to Marimont to the Archduke, of whom he immediately de∣manded Audience, and went with the Ordinary Embassador. He lay'd before the Archduke that Henry of Bourbon Prince of Conde, mak∣ing his Wife the occasion of his Pretence, to cover his design of raising troubles in France, had withdrawn himself into the Ter∣ritories under his Government, and therefore he desir'd him in his Masters name to cause him to be apprehended. To which the Archduke reply'd that he thought he had done enough in not receiving the Prince, but that he could not refuse him free passage, and that it should not be long of him, that he did not return into France, as one that zealously wish'd the King's particular satisfaction, and the Tran∣quility of the Kingdom.

'Tis true, that the Prince of Conde did not stay in the Low Countries; for he pass'd for∣ward to Cologne, and had left the Princess his Wife at Breda with the Princess of Orange, his Sister, who carry'd her afterwards to Brus∣sels, whether the Prince her Husband came in a short time after. Thither also went the the Archduke to receive the Ladies, and pay'd 'em a visit so soon as they were arriv'd. The Marquiss of Spinola, General of the Spanish Forces, who was then in the same City, com∣plain d to the Archduke, and blam'd him for not allowing the Prince of Conde refuge, and so continually persecuted him with his

importunities, that he oblig'd him to send a Gentleman to the Prince on purpose to invite him to return. Spinola also wrote by the same Courrier, and caus••d the Spanish Embas∣sador to write to him also to the same effect. 'Tis true, that the Archduke did n••t act with the same thoughts, as the Ministers of that Crown; for that he wish'd an Accommodation as much as they desir'd Peace. But soon after he was no longer Master of the differences: for the Catholick King sent his orders wherein he de∣clar'd that 'twas his Pleasure to grant his Pro∣tection to the Prince of Conde. This Decla∣ration so enflam'd his Courage, that he made it his business to justifie his departure out of the Kingdom, and publish'd some matters of Fact, of which the greatest part were suppos d. To the same purpose also he wrote to Pope Clement VII. and Cardinal Borghese, his Nephew, in terms that might make his Letters pass for so many Manifestos.

Now in regard the King had given no or∣der to Pralin to enter into any Negotiation with his Nephew, so soon as he heard that he was return'd to Brussels, he sent the Marquiss of Couvres, with the Character of his Extra∣ordinary Ambassador; who as soon as he ar∣riv'd press'd the Archduke to deliver the Princess of Conde either into the Hands of the Constable her Father, or of the Dutchess of Angouleme her Aunt. But the Archduke declar d that he would never dispose of her Person, but with the consent of her Husband.

So that Couvrs finding his Negtiation did not take effect, bethought himself of carrying away the Princess by force.

There was some sort of coldness in Affecti∣on between her and the Prince; whither it were out of a Natural Antipathy, or out of vexation to see her self so far▪ remote from the Court of France: and the French had taken care to cherish this embitterment, to bring about the King's designes. The Marquiss of Coeuvres being inform'd of her Inclinations. endeavour'd to perswade her to suffer her self to be taken forcibly away; to which pro∣posal she could not a long time tell what an∣swer she should give. On the other side, she was not satisfi'd with the Prince her Husband; she saw herself, to her great grief, under the Tyranny of the Spaniards: The Archdukes Court by no means pleas'd her; seeing no∣thing there that came near the Magificence of that of France; and besides, she most passio∣nately desir d to be with her Father and her Aunt, who by their Letters signifi d the same earnestness on their part. But on the other side, she durst not forsake her Husband, to put her self into the hands of a Person who was bound by no tye to her interest; and she was equally afraid of falling into the hands of a Incens'd Husband, and of giving Obloquy an occasion to blame her Conduct. Never∣theless, after she had a long time revolv'd these different reflections in her mind, the desire of seeing her Family once again, and

of returning into France prevail'd above all other considerations.

Coeuvres's design was to carry her away from Brussels in the Night, and to get so far upon the Roade while it continu d dark, that when her flight was discover'd, it should be impossible to overtake 'em. But for the bringing this about, there was a necessity of taking several pre∣cautions: which way to climb or break thro' the Walls of the City; to have Horses ready upon the Ramparts, to have Horses laid in several places, with Horsemen to oppose all such as should go about to stop em.

Now in regard there was a necessity of em∣ploying several persons in the execution of ••his Project, it could not be kept so secret ••••t that the persons concern'd had an inkling of it. The first person who had notice of it was the Count of Buquoy, Grand Master of the Ordinace in Flanders, who carri'd the news to the Archduke and Spinola. Immediately a Council was held, wherein it was resolv'd, that under some fair pretence, the Princess should be invited to lodge in the Palace with the Archduke and the Infanta. This was pro∣pos'd to the Prince of Conde▪ without dis∣covering the mistery to him; withall they in∣sinuated into him, that in regard there was some unkindness between him and his Wife, 'twould be the best way to separate a while, that he might have time to recover himself from his disgust. To which the Prince consented with∣out any scruple; upon those assurances that

the Archduke and the Infanta gave him; not to part with her out of their Custody with∣out his Consent. Nor durst the Princess, nor Coeuvres oppose it, not having any manifest pretence to excuse themselves, besides that hey were in hopes of executing their designs before the change of her lodging. Neverthe∣less, because they could not adjust all their Measures during the time that the Princess was to stay in the Prince of Orange's Palace, therefore 'twas thought convenient, for the gaining of three or four days more, that the Princess her self, with whom he faign'd to be in Love, should entreat Spinola to give her a Ball at his House: the but crafty Genoese, who smelt the design, excus'd himself neatly. However Coeu∣vres, no ways discourag'd by this unlucky ac∣cident, resolv'd to carry away the Princess upon Saturday night, being the 13th of Feb. 1610. because she was to remove into the Pa∣lace the next day, being Sunday. She pre∣tended she was ill, for fear her Husband should lye with her, which was a thing that very rarely happen'd, and hinder from mak∣ing her Escape.

The Archduke who was inform'd of every thing by Buquoy, gave notice of it, by Spinola, to the Prince of Conde, to whom they had never made any discovery till then, for fear he should make a noise to no purpose, and it was resolv'd that the Archduke should be requested to order the Prince of Orange's House to be guarded all the Night. Conde was so alarum d

at what Spinola had told him, that not being able to keep the secret, after he had taken sufficient care to disappoint the enterprize, he brake out into frivolous complaints. As for Coeuvres he deny'd every thing, because he had as yet done nothing to convict him; and be∣cause there was nothing more to be done, he dispatch'd away a Courrier to the King for new Orders upon this unexpected Change.

The King perceiving that Artifice had no∣thing avail'd him, resolv'd to make use of Force to get the Princess of Conde out of the hands of the Archduke, and to declare War against the most Catholick King. To which purpose he sounded James VI. who after the Death of Queen Elizabeth, succeeded to the Crowns of England, Ireland and Scotland, and endeavour'd to oblige him to break with the Spaniards. But he being already grown in years, was unwilling to engage in a War of that consequence.

Upon which, Hen. IV. made a League with the Duke of Savoy, the Venetians, and the States of the United Provinces who were most concern'd to humble the Pride of the House of Austria. The Death of the Duke, of Cleves upon which a difference arose between the Elector of Brandenbourgh and the Duke of Newburgh about the Succession, furnish'd the Most Christian King with a specious pretence to take Armes, and he began to send his Forces toward the Low Countries; but the tragical end of that Prince disappointed all his vast designs.

For Hen. IV. going in his Coach to the Arsenal with the Dukes of Montbason and Epernon, Ravaillac attempted to kill him as he went out of the Louvre, but could not execute his design in that place, because he found himself posted on that side where the Duke of Eper∣non sate. The King moreover had not order'd his Guards to follow him as he was wont to do, so that when his Coach enter'd into the Ironmongers Street, and that his Footmen pass••d through St. Innocents Church-yard, by reason of a stop that hinder'd the Coachman from driving on, the Ruffian had an opportunity to get upon the fore-wheel, and give the King two Stabs with a broad Knife, the first be∣tween the second and third Rib, which was of little consequence; the second between the fifth and sixth Rib, which peirc'd his Lungs and cutt the veiny Artery, near the left Val∣vule of the Heart, which last wound prov'd Mortal. Thus this great Monarch ended his days, when he was about to have made all Europe Tremble.

The Intreagues of France, under the Reign of Lewis XIII.

THE Amours of Lewis XIII. afford but little matter, because that if he cast a particular eye upon any Lady of the Court, 'twas rather a Pastime then any real Passion. Nevertheless, there were Intreagues wherein the Ladies bore a part, which I shall endea∣vour to relate with as much conciseness and clearness as the Thing will give me leave. The Duke of Buckingham, a Favorite of Charles I. King of Great Britain was come to Paris, to conduct Madam Henrietta of France, whom his Master had marri'd into England, but in∣truth, to set up a Faction in the Kingdom, which might prevent the King from putting his design against the Hereticks in execution. To which purpose he thought it necessary to acquire some familiarity among the Lady's who had most Credit at Court; as being perswad∣ed that 'twas a difficult thing for persons of their Sex, to conceal the greatest secrecies from those who are once so happy as to have touch'd their Hearts. The Daughter of the Duke of Montbason, who after the death of the Constable de Luynes, marry'd in second Wedlock to the Prince of Joyinville, and who was

then call'd the Duke of Chevreuse, was she whom Buckingham deem'd the most proper to second his designs. Her Beauty had purchas'd her an absolute power over all the great Lords of the Kingdom. She had a most per∣suasive Eloquence, a boundless Ambition, and a wanton Humour, which made her co∣vet the Conquest of all those whom she thought worthy of particular distinction. Buckingham, who had a penetrating judgment, quickly understood her Character, and per∣ceiv'd that the Grand Prior, natural Son to Henry IV. and the Count of Chalais were the most assiduous to pay her homage, and the two persons likewise for whom she had the greatest value, but that she treated 'em with so much equality, that they could not discover which way her heart most enclin'd. Buckingham ha∣ving insinuated himself into their confidence, offer d 'em to make the Dutchess explain her self: and tho a man would have thought a Confi∣dent so lovely as the Duke, a very improper person to fulfill the Trust which they had re∣pos'd in him, yet they never suspected any thing; because that being a Stranger, and one that was but to make a short stay in France, they did not believe he would engage in an Intreague with Madam de Chevreuse. The Duke of Orleans, the King's Brother, was then at Limours, and the Dutchess at Dampierre, that lye not above ten Leagues a sunder. The Grand Prior and Chalais, who were the Duke of Orleans's principal Favorites carry'd Buck∣ingham

to Limours, from whence they went every Afternoon to Diampierre. During Buck∣ingham's stay there, he invented every day some new Courtly feast to divertise the Dutchess, to which he always invited the two Lovers for fear they should grow jealouss. In the Even∣ing he had the honour to converse in private with the Dutchess, by the means of Madam de Vernet, her good friend, whom he had en∣gag'd in his Interests by his liberality. Now when he had receiv'd such sufficient proofs of the Dutchess of Chevreuses Compliance, that he could no longer doubt but that she lov d him in good earnest, he told her that to con∣ceal their correspondece from his Rivals, there was a necessity of engaging em in a Conspiracy against Cardinal Richlieu, who was at that time Chief Minister, and perswade 'em, that tho they were alone together, yet they never spoke of any thing but of State Affairs. The Grand Prior, and Chalais easi∣ly fell into this Snare; and whereas they saw, to their great vexation that the Duke of Or∣leans, their Master, had no share in the Go∣vernment, they immediately rellsh'd the pro∣posal which was made 'em, to perswade the Prince to declare himself Head of the Fa∣ction, that they would set up, upon the as∣surance which Buckingham gave em of the King of Great Britain's Protection.

This Intreague could not be carri'd so se∣cretly, but that Cardinal Richlieu had notice of it. However he would not presently fly out

a∣gainst the Dutchess, not being well assur'd that she was in the Plot; So that he only pro∣cur'd the Banishment of Madam de Vernet. This menace, which one would have thought should have made the Conspirators afraid of a more severe punishment; did not make 'em give over their clandestin Practises. The Mar∣shal d' Ornano Monsieur's Governour, headed 'em, afraid if his Master should marry Made∣moiselle de Montpensier, as the King desir'd, least she who was a notable Lady, should get the upper-hand of the Duke, and put him out of his favour. Therefore the principal aim of the Malecontents was to break off this Match and perswade the Duke of Orleans to marry Mademoiselle de Bourbon, the Prince of Conde s Sister, and by that match to unite those two Houses in a strict Alliance, or to put him upon looking out for some forraign Prin∣cess, from whom he might have great Assi∣stance▪ and a Powerful Protection. As for Mademoiselle de Montpensier they design'd to marry her to the Count of Soissons, thereby to tye the House of Guise to that of Bour∣bon.

Cardinal Richlieu, who had every day advice of this Negatiation, that he might find out the Bottom of it, went to take the Air for three days at Bassompierre••s House, who was the Count of Chalais's Father-in-Law, and had the knack of flattering the Count so tick∣lingly, that he fetch'd the whole plot out of his very Soul. Some days after, the Marshal

d' Ornano was arrested at Fontain Bleau, and carri'd to the Castle of Vincennes; they also secur'd the Duke of Vendosm, and the Grand Prior his Brother at Blois: But it cost them nothing but their being put in a world of bodily fear; for the real Punishment fell up-Chalais, who lost his Head. Madam de Che∣vreuse, who foresaw the Tempest betimes, secur'd her life and liberty by Flight, and re∣tir'd into Lorrain, from whence she went to Brussells.

There were other Intreagues at Court, af∣ter the death of Mademoiselle the Duke of Or∣leans first Wife. For this same Prince being fallen in love with Maria de Gonzaga, the Duke of Montoua's Daughter, had a design to marry her, and the King himself no way seem'd to dislike the Match. But the Queen Mother, whose aim it was to marry Monsieur to the Princess of Florence, after she had made use in vain of all her perswasions, and all her authority to make him consent to the Match, had recourse to violence, and at Columniers caus'd that Princess to be seiz'd together with the Dutchess Dowager of Longueville. Mon∣sieur being touch d to the quick with this ill∣usage of a person so dear to him, withdrew into Lorrain, where nevertheless he prov'd unfaithful, and being charm'd with the person of the Princess Margaret, the Dukes Sister, to the burying in Oblivion of his first Affecti∣ons, he marri d her without his Majesties consent.

The King, incens'd at this match, sent a Powerful Army into Lorrain, under the Con∣duct of the Marquiss of St. Chaumont. There upon, the Princess Margaret, seeing that the security of her Country depended upon her Liberty, departed the City by four a Clock in the morning in mans Apparel, well mounted, and attended only by a Gentleman, whose name was Dause, who had serv'd Ma∣dam de Remiremont, and two other Ladies; and after they had rode thirteen Leagues without drawing bit, and hid themselves in a Wood, to avoid some Swedish Troops which they descri'd at a distance, she arriv'd very much tyr d at Thimville, into which place she had much ado to get admittance. Presently she gave Monsieur, who was retir'd into the Low Countries advice of her arrival, who im∣mediately sent to her de Fontaines, Chalandray, de Rames, de Laveauport, the Duke d' Elboeuf, and Puis Laurens; afterwards he went to meet her as far as Marche en famine, understanding she was to take that Roade from Namur, and carri d her to Brussells, where the Magistrates came to kiss her hands, and by the Infanta she was conducted to the Queen Mother, who as well as a good part of the Grandees of the Kingdom were constrain'd to seek for Sanctuary in that City, against the Persecutions of Car∣dinal Richlieu.

Now in regard the greatest part of the Court of France was at Brussells, I do not believe it will be any deviation from

my Subject, to give some account of the Gal∣lantries of the French Princes and Ladies that were retir'd thither. Monsieur, whose a∣morous humour could not lie idle, while he waited the arrival of the Princess Margaret, pai'd his assiduities to the Countess of Renne∣bourgh; but she being so austerely vertuous, that she was commonly stil'd the Savage, he went to refresh himself with the Company of a Spanish Lady, call'd Dona Blanca, whose humour was altogether as morose. Madam de Chevre∣use lai'd all her Snares to entrap Archduke Leopold the Emperors Brother, to whom the Catholick King had given the Government of the Low Countries; and the Duke d' Elboeuf made addresses to Madam de Grincalberque; but all these Amours were only transitory Gallantries: there was no body but the Duke of Guise that embark'd himself in Intreagues of any long continuance, and such indeed as prov d in good part the occasion of most of the misfor∣tunes of his Life.

This Prince, being the youngest Brother of his Family was design'd for the Church, and was promoted to the Archbishoprick of Rheims: but after his Brothers death, he quitted his Benefices; and courted Anna de Gonzaga, Si∣ster to the Princess Marie, of whom we have already made mention Cardinal Richlieu find∣ing this Alliance to be contrary to the good of the State, made use of the King's authority to prevent it, and order'd the Princess to be shut up in a Convent. The Duke of Guise

enrag d to see his Passion cross'd departed the Kingdom, and withdrew to Cologne, whither his Mistress having made her escape, follow'd him in Mans Apparel; but he oblig'd her to return, and went to Brussells, where he met with the rest of the Exiles. Now in regard there was no good Company there to his mind, he spent the greatest part of the After∣noons with the Dutchess of Chevreuse, his Kinswoman, who fearing least his assiduities should create a jealousie in the Archduke, en∣deavour d to engage him other where, and brought him acquainted with the Countess of Bossu. She was a young Widow of a sweet and blithe humour, and the Dutchess's great friend. It was so order'd that she should be of the Dukes side in a match at Cards, and she put her self to forward, that he coulde not choose but re∣turn her an answer. 'Tis true, that for fear she should make a wrong judgment of his Con∣duct, she presently spoke to him about mar∣riage, and the Duke declar'd to her that he desir'd nothing so much, as to share destinies with her, but in such terms as sufficiently shew'd, that he only sought to divertise him∣self during his Exile. But tho the Countess had sounded his drift, yet she made as if she hade never perceiv'd it, hoping the more easily to engage him by her faigned Ingenuity.

One day she carry'd him to a very stately House of her's about a League from Brussells, and treated him with all the divertisements that were proper for the Season, which was

the most pleasant in all the whole year; for which the Duke could not choose but testifie his acknowledgment to her, and talk to her of love as he was us d to do. The Countess told him, that if he were so amorous as he would seem to make her believe, he should shew him∣self more eanestly desirous of their Marriage The Duke swore to her that there was no∣thing that he more Passinonately wish'd for, then to spend the rest of his life with so amaible a person as she was, and that it was her fault if she did not put it to the Tryal. The Coun∣tess taking him at his word, reply'd, that she should soon see whither his Protestations were sincere, since she had both a Notary and a Priest in the House to marry 'em. The Duke was surpriz'd at this discourse, but made as if he had not been so, and thought he might take his liberty without running any hazard, while he made the Dutchess the Cully of her own cunning; seeing that a Marriage of that nature wanting the formalities prescrib'd by the Canon, and without the Kings con∣sent, was voyd in Law. The Dutchess therefore seeing the Duke ready to do what she desir'd, sent for Manfele Almoner to the Army, who gave 'em the Nuptial Benediction, and dis∣pens'd with asking the Baines, as if he had the same authority with the Bishop of Mali∣nes. Thus the Duke stay'd all that night with his new Spouse, to whom he shew'd so much kindness and affection, that she was ex∣treamly satisfi'd with the happy success of her

designs. The next day he return'd back, af∣ter he had desir'd the ••hew Dutchess that she would keep their Marriage private, till he got the consent of the Court and his own Relations.

But notwithstanding all the care they took to conceal this Adventure from publick knowledge, it reach'd the Ears of the Duke d' Elboeuf and the Dutchess of Chevreuse who both upbraided him with it, as a piece of the foulest Treachery imaginable. The respect he ahd for Laides curb'd him from flying out a∣gainst the Dutchess; but the Duke d' Elbouf and he had such high words together, that they had drawn their Swords if the Archduke had no pacifi'd 'em. The Duke of Guise finding he could not revenge himself by his Sword, sought out for otherways to plague the two persons that had affronted him, and thought he could not find a better than to bring the Countess home to his House and treat her there publickly as his Wife. This was the course he took, and from that time he liv'd with her very lovingly so long as she remain'd at Brussels. But we must now return to France with the Duke of Orleance, who having obtain'd of the King to approve his Marriage, went to waite vpon him at St. Germains, toge∣ther with Madam.

1640 While the King was busily employ'd in reducing the Huguenots of his Kingdom, and defending his Allies against the enterprizes fo the House of Austria, he was govern'd al∣together

by his Favorites, never minding the Conversation of Ladies. The Marquiss de Paradas succeeded the Constable de Luynes, and the Duke of S. S••nogi succeeded him. After that Duke was thrown out of favour Ca∣dinal Richlieu I•• obtain'd the sole ascendant over his Majesty, without any Companion either in his favour, or in the Ministry. But after the Peace had given the King a little li∣berty to converse among the Ladies, 'twas soon perceiv'd that he cast a more particular eye upon Mademorselle de Faye••ro, tho that same application was wholly Platonick▪ for he bounded his desires within the limits of Con∣versation, never caring to have any particu∣lar pastime with her, and never spoke to her but publickly in the Queen's Chamber. This Love however as innocent as it was, created a jealousie in the Gardinal; and it seem'd to him so much the more dangerous and preju∣dicial to his favour, because Madam de la Fay∣ette was in a strict union with the Queen; and for that the Marchioness of Senesay, a Lady of Honour, and the Queen's Creature, was the Confident entrust d with the Secret. The Cardinal therefore us'd all his endeavours, to break that Union and at length obtain d an order from the King to banish those two Ladies, which was carry'd to 'em by Cavig∣ny, Secretary of State, and within a little while after, the Marquiss of St. Ange, Master of the Queens Household underwent the same desgrace: Which very much incens'd the

Queen against the Cardinal; but in regard he was assur'd of the King has Master freind∣ship, he took little notice of it.

Mademoiselle d' Hautefort, soon suceeded in the room of Madam de lu Fayette, and the Car∣dinal suffer'd that growing Passion without any jealousie, because that Lady had neither judgment nor with, to carry on Intreagues, equal to the Kings first Mistress. But when he discover'd that she was solely guided by the Counsels of Mademoiselle de Chennerault, whose genius and cunning were no way inferiour to Madem de la Fayette's abil••ties, he was no less disturb'd then before. Nevertheless, he durst not openly assail the King's Passion, for fear of incurring his displeasure, and putting him∣self out of favour; but to unhinge him in∣sensibly from her, he thought it convenient to fix about him a Favorite depending in such a manner upon his will, that he might ruin him when he was able to subsist of himself For that purpose the Cardinal cast his eye up∣on Henry Deffiat, Marquiss of St. Mars, Grand Squire of France, who had all the qualities re∣quisite to supply such a Post. He was handsome, and genteel in his Addresses, but he lov'd his pleasures to that degree, that there was all the probabilty imaginable that the fear of loosing the means of enjoyment would hinder him from attemping any thing upon the Credit of the Prime Minister. The King at first dis∣lik'd St. Mars's licentious humour, which was absolutely contrary to his reserv'd way

of living. However this Favorite, following the Cardinals advice, became so complaisant that at length he vanquish'd the Kings relu∣ctancy. For when the King made him any Presents he besought him to be spairing of his Favours, which would but create a jealousie in Madam de Hautefort, and expose him to the darts of her revenge: and at last he so well manag'd his Master during his Journey to Chambort, that he drew a promise from him never to see Madam de Hautefort any more when he return'd to Paris. The Cardinal how∣ever afraid least the King should change his mind upon a fresh sight of the Charming ob∣ject, left nothing omitted to keep him at a distance from her. He invented several pre∣tences to hinder him from returning to the Capital City of his Kingdom, and engag'd him in a tedious Journey to go and meet Ma∣dam Royale his Sister as far as Grenoble, upon the Fronties of P••emont. After this Interview, it was impossible to detain the King any longer in the Country, as being absolutely resolv'd to return to Paris. The Queen also went to meet him as far as Fontain Bleau, and carry'd Ma∣dam de Hautefort along with her. But the King's Passion for that Lady was accompani'd with so great a respect that he durst not al∣low himself the least liberty with her, as you may judge by what I shall tell ye. One day the Queen having receiv d a Billet, of which she had a mind to make some kind of mistery, plan'd it to the Hangings of her Chamber,

that she might not forget to answer it; but the King coming in, within a little while af∣ter, the Queen unwilling he should see the Billet, commanded Madam de Hautefort, who was one of her Maids ot Honour, to take it down and lock it up which she did according∣ly. The King would fain have taken it from her, and the King and she contended together after a jeasting manner; but at last Madam de Hau∣tefort, no longer able to defend her self, clapt the Billet into her Bosom, a Sanctuary too se∣cure for him to meddle with: for the King durst not touch it there, nor was he curious in the least any more to see it. But tho the, King's Passion was accompani'd with great re∣servdness, never the less it was very nice and attended by jealousie. For the King having a desire to settle Madam de Hautefort in the World, resolv'd to marry her to the Marquiss de Gevres, Eldest Brother to the Duke de Ge∣vres, at this day first Gentleman of the Chamber and Governor of Paris, who was no more at that time then an Abbot, and commanded her to receive him, as a person whom he design'd her for a Husband; which she did without any constraint; for the Marquiss was well shap'd, and had a very graceful presence. Now while all things were preparing for this Wed∣ding, the Spaniards Besig'd Corbie; and all the brave Gentlemen of the Court hasten'd to the relief of that place, and among the rest the Marquiss of Gevres, who was there slain; the news of which the King himself carry'd to

Madam de Hautefort, and endeavour'd to com∣fort her. Some few days after going into the same Ladies Chamber, he found her upon her knees before her little Altar, and stealing softly behind her saw that she was reading the Vespers of the dead; upon which, imagining it was for the Marquiss of Gevres, it seiz'd him with such a sit of jealousie, that for six weeks to∣gether, he would not so much as hear her name mention'd; tho he himself had propounded the Marriage of the Marquiss to her: Which can be attributed to nothing else but the Ca∣priccios customary to Love, that frequent∣ly looks upon those things which once it de∣sir'd, as so many befallen mischiefs.

At length Madam de Hautefort was brought into his Presence by another Lady; but the King gave but a very cool Reception either to the one or the other; teling his Mistress withal that she had made unhappy. Jokes up∣on St. Mars. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 but bid her have a care how she did so any more, unless she had a mind to incur his displeasure. Madam de Hautefort, who expected to have receiv'd some marks of kindness from the King after a long absence, was so surpriz'd to see herself so disoblig∣ingly reprimanded, that she burst into tears, not able to give the King any other answer. So soon as the Cardinal understood by St. Mars the success of the first meeting, he tho••ght it a proper Season to remove Madam de Hautefort from the Court, together with Madam de Cheunerault ••er Confident, for fear

the King's passion should re-kindle, by any longer frequenting her Company. To which purpose the prime Minister, and the Favou∣rite labour'd by consert, and so sedulously importun'd the King, that he sent an Order to those two Lady's to depart the Court forthwith; upon which they put themselves into a Convent in Paris. But the Cardinal would not suffer 'em to harbour long there; enforcing Madam de Chennerault to retire into Poitou, and Madam de Hautefort to betake herself to one of her Houses above forty Leagues from the Court.

St. Mar's perceiving that no body had a greater share in his Masters Affections then himself, thought himself in a condition to aspire to nobler Alliances. He had a long time Courted Marie de Gonzaga of whom we have already made mention, and had been so for∣tunate as to gain her Affection. Nay, report gave it out, that he had had a Daughter by her, of whom she was privately brought to bed at the Marchioness d' Arquien's House, who was her Governess, and which afterwards went for her Daughter. St. Mars spoke to the Cardinal a∣bout marrying this Princess; but he, afraid least the Favourite should become too powerful by means of that Allyance, refus'd to give his consent, and so order'd it that the King quickly dispos'd of her to another: Ladislaus the IV. King of Hungary, sent to demand her in marriage, and the match was soon con∣cluded. She carry'd along with her into Po∣land

Madam d' Arquten, together with the Daughter, which 'twas said she had by St. Mar's. After the death of Ladistau's the IV. she marry'd in second Wedlock Casimir his Brother; and being no less desirous to prefer the pretended Young Madam Darquien, she marry'd her to a great Lord of Poland, and when she came to be a Widow, to the Grand Marshal Sobies••ki, at present raigning by the name of John IV. Thus, if the Story be true, the Daughter succeeded the Mother, and as she did before, now wears the Crown of Poland.

In the mean time, St. Mar's, to make him∣self amends for the loss of his Mistress, ap∣ply'd himself to Marion de Lorme, who in truth was but of a very obscure extraction, but might well pass for the most lovely Per∣son in Europe; and as she was none of the cruel ones, so was he soon happy. So soon as the King was in bed, away flew he from St. Gemains, and rode full speed to meet her at Paris: and the delight which he took in her hindring him from rising early in the morning, he was very rarely at the Kings ri∣sing. The King, who knew not the reason of his neglect, ask'd several of his Officers what was become of him but they said not a word; whether out of ignorance, or whi∣ther they were afraid to provoak a favourite. But La Chenaye, the Kings first Vaiet de Chambre, who had very much contributed to the putting his Mistresses out of favour, finding that St. Mar's never made him any grateful

acknowledgment for what he had done, re∣solv'd not to let so fair an opportunity of Revenge escape him. He knew that the King, who was extreamly reserv'd in his Pleasures, had an Aversion for those that gave them∣selves over to their Debaucheries; and there∣fore thought he could not meet with a more certain expedient to plague the fa∣vourite, then by acquainting his Master with his Love for Marion de Lorme, which he did: and faild not to infuse into the King those sen∣timents which he was desirous his Majesty should have of him. St. Mar's perceiving the King's coldness toward him, fetch'd him about so many way's, that he made him confess the many ill Offices that Chenaye had done him. After the Count had discover'd from what hand the blow came, he study'd nothing but Revenge upon the Author of his disgrace, and to ruin, so dangerous an Enemy in the good opinion of his Master. To that pur∣pose he imparted his design to tha Marshal de la Meilleraye, who had some reason likewise of disgust against the same Officer, and they were so assiduous in their endeavours to de∣grade him, that they compass d their design. La Chenaye had some kind of preceding in∣ward Divination of his fall, and spoke of it to the Cardinal, who promis'd to support him. But unfortunately for him, his Patron was then at his House of Ruel, when the order was brought him to be gone, so that having

no recourse to his Eminency, he was forc'd to depart without delay.

The Cardinal was very much surpriz'd when he heard of Chenays's being dismiss'd from his employment, and knowing that St. Mars was the author of it; he upbraided the Favourite with it, and told him, he never thought he would have remov'd a Person from the King's Person, whom he khew to be his Creature; and this too, in his ab∣sence and without his knowledge. St. Mars whose interest forbid him to quarrel with that Minister, while his Credit stood immovable, was constrain'd totall him all the particulars of the Intreague, and acknowledge his Af∣fection for Marion de Lorme; and as it is a weakness in all Lovers to enhaunce the Charmes of their Mistresses, he gave the Cardinal so lively a description of her, that he infus d in∣to the Cardinal a great desier to see her. How ever the suttle Minister made no the least discovery of his thoughts; but in the Evening he spoke of it to the Abbot of Bo••s Robert, who was the Trustee of all his Private Pleasures. The Abbot told him, that he knew Mademoiselle d' Enclos, commonly call'd at Court Ninon, who ws an intimate Ac∣quaintance of Marion de Lorme's, and that by her means it would be and easie thing to entice St. Mars Mistress to Ru••l, under pretence of seeing the Writers, and for his Eminency to take a View of her at leisure, yet she per∣ceiving nothing of his Curiosity.

The Cardinal approv'd the Abbot of Bois Robert's Project, and desir'd him to loose no time. Thereupon the Crafty Confident went the next day to give Ninon a Visit, and made the match so dextrously, that Ninon, as cun∣nung as she was, knew nothing of the design. The Cardinal having notice of the day, that the two Lady's were to come and see his House, order'd a Magnificent Collation to be prepar'd ready in a little Island, in the mid∣dle of the Park, where he had also the King's Musick, both Violins and Hautboy's; and all the Gallantry went under the Abbots name, the Lady's all that while not knowing any thing of the mistery of the Banquet, which was carefully conceal'd from 'em. The Car∣dinal also saw Marion de Lorme, without being seen himself, and found her a thousand times handsomer then he imagin'd her to be. He had a desire to know wheher she had a kind∣ness for St. Mars, and order'd Bois Robert to make the discovery. Tbe Abbot on the other side fail'd not to give his Eminency the satisfaction which he desir'd, and gave him to understand that Vanity had a greater share then Love in Marion de Lorme's comply∣ances with the King's Favourite; but that the Lady kept all her tenderness for Desbar∣reaux, a Councellor in Parliament, a Young Gentlemen of a Graceful Meen, a lievely wit, and bonny Conversation but debauch'd and Irreligious to the highest degree. Richilieu order'd the Abbot to make a proposal

to Desbarreaux, that if he would part with his Mistress to the Cardinal and engage her to correspond with his Affection, he would be so far beholding to him for such ah accep∣table Sacrifice, that he would do for him whatever he desir'd to advance his Fortute. Bois Robert discharg'd himself of his Commis∣sion with an extraordinary address, but Des∣barreaux return'd him nothing but jocose an∣swers, not believing the Cardinal could be guilty of so much weakness. Which incens d tne Prime Minister to that degree, that he persecuted Desbarreaux as long as he liv'd, and forc'd him to fell his place and quit the Kingdom.

After Desbarreaux was gone, Madam des Enclos, at the request of Bois Robert, spoke to her friend concerning the Cardinal's being in love with her; and the first overture of his Affection that he made her was accompani'd with a Present of a Pair of large Silver An∣dirons, and a Candle-stick, which were va∣lu'd at 20000 Livers. St. Mars surpriz'd to see this ornamental furniture in his Mistres∣ses Chamber, would needs know from whom so much liberality procecded, and not being able to clear the point from her own mouth, he let fall all his jealousie upon Emeri, Controller of the Finances; who visited her some times. Nay it made him so ••horn mad, that he re∣solv d to dudgel his Rival, and told his mind to Coquerell, Lieutenant to the Grand Provist of the Household. Coquerell gave Emeri no∣tice

of it, who to divert the Storm that threatned him, for bore to visit Marion, and broke off all intercourse with her.

In the mean time St. Mars's jealousie re∣doubl'd his passion for his Mistress, whom he visited every day and Incognith and in disguise, not withstanding the Kings Prohibitions. His as∣siduities, also were so signal, that 'twas reported he had marry'd her. Lewis XIII. had notice of it from all parts, and St. Mars's Relations, who were afraid least he should be so much a fool as to match himself so unequally, were the first that complain d of it to his Majesty. Upon which the Ingratitude and Obstinacy of this Favourtie so sensibly affected the King that he kept his Bed for some days, feigning himself sick on purpose to avoid the sight of that unthankful Officer, to whom he could not forbear shewing his resentment. On the other side St. Mars, an enemy of restraint grew weary of being cu••••••'d by his Master in his Pleasures, and in a sit of discontent gave ear to the proposals of the Count of Soisons, who offerd him for a Wife, his Neice Mademoislle de Longueville, with several other advantages, if he would enter into a League against the Car∣dinal. 'Tis true that the Death of the Count of Soisons, which happen'd within a little while ater the Battle of Sedan, discompos'd this Conspiracy for some time? but it was renew'd again with the Duke of Bouillon, by the meanes of Madam de Thou.

After St. Mars was once engag'd in this In∣treague, he forgot to give intelligence to the Cardinal, as he was wont to do, of what the King said of him, when he found any fault with his Ministry. On the other side, the Cardi∣nal, who had plac'd that Favorite near the King s person, and had supported him in that Station, only to be a faithful Spy to inform him of his most secret thoughts, no sooner saw him fail of his sincerity, but he began to grow cold in his kindness for him, till at last those reciprocal disgusts degenerated into an irreconcileable hatred. One of the principal causes of St. Mars's antipathy against the Car∣dinal, was his obstructing the King's design to have made him one of his Privy Council. One day, at Re••el, as all the Courtiers were quit∣ting the King's Chamber, to leave it free for the chief Minsters, the King took St. Mars by the Arm, and stopping him, said he to the Cardinal, 'tis necessary that our Friend (for so he call'd his Favorite) should be well in∣structed in Our affairs, to the end he may be able to serve Us usefully. The Cardinal, who was perfectly well acquainted with the King's humour, would not withstand the King's design, but suffer d St. Mars to take his place in the Council; however he would not permit any matter of consequence to be deba∣ted there, and the next day being in private with his Majesty, he neatly represented to him, how dangerous it would be to impart his secrets to so young a man as St. Mars,

who might be easily wrought to reveal 'em. The King approv'd his Eminencies reasons, and never after that, call'd his Favourite in∣to his Council. Which coming with ease to St. Mars's ear, he could never be induc'd to pardon the Cardinal.

Upon that the Minister and the Favourite never afterwards observ'd any measures of Decorum, but display'd their Hatred so pub∣lickly, that the King had much ado to keep 'em quiet. St. Mars being one day with the King, when a Gentleman who came from Marshal de la Mothe, to bring his Majesty the news of the Relief which the Spaniards had put into Tarragon by Sea, endeavour'd to lay all the fault upon the Arch-Bishop of Bourde∣aux, who commanded the French Fleet, this Favourite left nothing omitted to justifie the Archbishop, and blame the Marshals conduct, who was a Kinsman of Noiers the Secretary of State, and consequently the Cardinals Crea∣ture. Nor did he stop there, for under∣standing that the Cardinal had accus'd him to the King, for having shew'd but little Courage at the Siege of Arras, where he commanded the Voluntiers, he slyly put it into the King's Head, finding him enclin'd to Peace, that the Cardinal prolong'd the War for his own particular ends, and started every day new obstacles to hinder an Accomodation of the differences between the two Crowns. In short he omitted nothing to put his Majesty out of conceite with the Cardinal. And the little

kindness which the King shew'd the Cardinal for some days, afforded St. Mars, whose Repu∣tation was plainly discern'd to increase, as the Cardinal began to wain and loose his Masters favour, a means to draw to his party several persons whom it would have been in vain for him to have attempted at any other time.

The Cardinal, on the other side, who had notice of all these practices, engag'd the King to leave Paris in order to besiege Perpignan himself, and compleat the conquest of Rousil∣lon, in hopes that the cares of the War would divert the King from familiar Discourses, at what time his Minions took their opportunity to cry down his Ministry. This Journey in∣fus'd a Jealousie into St. Mars, who fearing least the Cardinal during the Campaign, should work himself again into the King's fa∣vour, and make use of it to his ruin, deem'd it convenient to secure a place of refuge for himself. Nor could he think of any more convenient then Sedan, the Soveraignty of which City belong'd to the Duke of Bouillon. He opend his mind to Madam de Thou, who promis'd him to obtain from the Duke all re∣quisite Assurances of the Sanctuary which he desir'd. In short, he went to wait upon the Duke at Sedan, to perswade him to come to Paris; and he got thither at the same time that the Duke was press'd by the Cardinal to undertake the same Journey, to receive his Commission for command of the Army in Italy, which the King intended to confer up∣on

him. The Duke finding himself solicited on both sides, set forward at length and went to Court; and was at first at a great puzzle which party to adhear to, not know∣ing which would be most for his advantage to joyn with the Cardinal of the Favourite. But at length his inveterate Hatred against the Cardinal, and the perswasions of Madam de Thou, over-rul'd him to engage with St. Mars. However he did not refuse the Command of the Army in Italy: and they drew from him a promise that he should▪ admit into Sedan the King's Brother, who had already declar'd himself head of the Party. But in regard there were several particulars that were to be agreed upon, they assign'd the Hostel de Venise for the place of their Rendevouz, where Monsieur had his Stables. There, met St. Mars, and the Duke of Bouillon, who sent for the Counts of Aubijoux, de Brion, and de Fonterailles. There, it was propos d whither they should put them∣selves under the Protection of the King of Spain, upon which there happen'd great Dis∣putes: but at last it past in the Affirmative. Fonterailles was entrusted with that Negotia∣tion, by reason of his Address and Cunning. Besides that being not so considerable for his Quality, as the rest, it was to be presum'd, that his absence from Court would be the less taken notice off. 'Twas a good while before he would undertake the business; but at length away he went, and arrived at Ma∣drid, concluded a Treaty with the Duke d' Olivarez, the Catholick King's chief Minister

It had been resolv'd upon, that the Cardinal should have been Assassinated at Briare; but St. Mars durst not put it in execution; excusing himself that it was requisite to stay till Mon∣sieur's Arrival, to the end his presence might warrant those that should commit the Murder from da••ger. For Monsieur remain'd at Pa∣ris to strengthen his Party, and sent the Count of Montresor to draw in the Duke of Beaufort, but he could not prevail.

During the King's Expedition, St. Mars instead of preserving the Kings friendship by complying with him, did all that he could do to loose it: so far from closing with his Sen∣timents, that he made it his business still to thwart him: and when his Majesty desir••d him near his Person, he affected to be absent from him. Insomuch that when his friends reprov'd him, and told him, how he did himself an Injury by his behaviour, he excus••d himself by telling 'em, that the King's Breath was so offensive, that 'twas impossible to endure it. This Language of his was carri'd to the King, and contri∣buted not a little to lessen the kindness which till then he had shew'd his Favourite. But St Mars who thought of nothing so much as the death of the Cardinal took no notice of the King's growing disaffection, imagining it would be easie for him to regain his Ma∣sters favour, if once he were rid of his Enemy. Nevertheless, the design of killing the chief Minister was delay••d, by reason of a terrible Sickness that seiz'd him at Narbonne.

St. Mars seeing that the Physitians lookt

upon it as very dangerous, thought it a piece of Imprudence, to go about to take away by violent means the Life of a Man, whom the had condition of his Constitution threat∣ned with a speedy death. So that it may be said that the Cardinals Sickness preserv'd him from the danger that attended his Life.

Monsieur de Thou, leaving Paris, and going to the Court, at Carcassonne met Fo••terailles, who imparted to him the Treaty which he had con∣cluded with Spain. Which surpriz d de Thou, because he had not been at the Conference at the Hostel de Venise, and had never approv'd the design, the Negotiation of which they had for that reason conceal d from him.

Fonterailles had cary d this Treaty to St. Mars, who having made a Copy of it, had sent the Original to Monsieur by the Count d' Aubijous. De Thou, having taken his leave of Fonterailles, went to the King, who was march'd from Narbonne, and already sat down before Perpignan. There he met St. Mars. who had so strengthen'd his Party, that the Army was divided into two Factions, the one of which call'd themselves Royalists, the o∣ther Cardinalists; and the Animosity was so great between 'em, that they were every foot ready to go together by the Ears. How∣ever in regard that St. Mars had no more then the outward appearances of the King's Favour, he press'd Monsieur to declare him∣self, and repair to Sedan. Upon which, his Royal Highness demanded with whom the Duke

of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 had left orders for his being ad∣mitted into the Town. Thereupon the Male∣contents, who had not been so wise as to pro∣cure one from him before his departure, sent away Monmior into Italy to get an Order from the Duke with a letter of Credence to de∣sire it of him. But the Duke who knew not Monmior, would not entrust him with a Se∣cret of that Importance. So that Monsieur was forc'd to send to him d' Aubijous, disguiz••d in the Habit of a Capuchin. And these Jour∣ny••s to and fro caus'd 'em to loose so much time, that at last the Conspiracy was disco∣ver'd.

The Cardinal, who during the King's Ab∣sence thought himself not safe in Narbonne, of which Marshal Sehomberg, who had but little kindness for him, was Governour, resolv'd to remave into the Dauphinate or Provence, for that the Counts of Sault, and Alais, who were in possession of both those Governments, were his intimate Friends. Thereupon he pretended to go and drink the Waters at Tarascon, and coming to Agd••, in order to go by Water from thence to Beaucaire, by the way he receiv'd a Pacquet, wherein he found a Copy of the Treaty made with Spain, not knowing from whence the Intelligence should come, and presently order'd Chavigni to carry it to the King, who could hardly find in his heart to cause St. Mars to be ar∣rested, believing it to have been an Artifice of the Cardinal to ruin his Favourite. There∣upon

he consulted Father Simon upon the News which he had receiv'd, and finding his Sentiments to be the same that Chavigni had vainly endeavour'd to infuse into him, he re∣solv'd at last to make the foul Offender a se∣vere Example of his Justice. But because it was a difficult thing to secure all the Conspi∣rators in the Army, the King return'd to Narbonne, pretending himself sick of an Ague, of which he had already had some fits. So soon as he arriv'd there, he caus'd the Gates to be shut, and gave all requisite Orders for the seizing all those that had any share in the Con∣spiracy. Fonterailles had already made his E∣scape some days before, shrewdly suspecting that the Treaty was discover'd. To which purpose he had feign'd a Quarrel with the Camp-Marshal d' Epernon; to the end that when his flight should be known, it might be imagin'd, that he was only stept aside to a∣void the Rigour of Justice which punish d Du∣els very severely. The King had command∣ed the Count de Charost, Captain of the Guards of his Body, to secure the Person of St. Mars, but those orders could not be given out so pri∣vately, but that the Favourite had secret no∣tice of it. He was then debaushing with some of his Friends, when the Intimation was gi∣ven him. However he was so much the ma∣ster of himself that he never chang'd Counte∣nance for the matter, but presently causing his Boots to be pull'd off, and feigning the Headache, he slipt out of his Apartiment

which was in the Archbishops House, near the Kings Lodgings, and hearing that all the Gates of the City were shut, he betook himself to Madam Bourgeois's House, whose Husband, who made Gun∣powder, was out of Town. He there got admittance by means of a Silver Key, and thought himself safe, because no body saw him go in. In the mean while the Count of Charost repair'd to St. Mars's Apartiment at the Hour appointed by the King; but found no body there, but the Surgeon and two of the Favourites Valets de Chambre, who could tell no tidings of their Master. Them, how∣ever he carry••d to the King, who understand∣ing from their Lips that they knew not what was become of their Master, order'd the Count to go the next morning with the De∣puty Governour and the Consuls, and search all the Houses. Charost perform d all his Or∣ders exactly, but to no purpose; which o∣blig'd the King to leave Na••bonne, to go to Beziers, withall commanding the Deputy Go∣vernour and the Consuls to continue their search, and to set forth a Proclamation for∣bidding all Persons whatever to conceal St. Mars under the Penalty of Death. By which time Bourgeois, where the offender had hid himself, being return'd home, his Wife told him, that there was a Man in the House, whom she believ'd to be the Person sought for by the description given of him. With∣in a little while after, St. Mars himself dis∣cover'd

who he was to his Landlord, in hopes, by confiding in him to oblige him to secresie. But Bourgeois, afraid of his life and hazarding the Repose of his Family, gave notice by some of his friends to the Archdishop and the Deputy Governour, that St. Mars was in his House. Presently away went the Deputy, with the Consuls, and a Division of his Com∣pany, and Civilly accoasting the Favourite, told him he had Orders from the King to ar∣rest him, and demanded his Sword. The Deputy Governour carry'd him to a Chamber in the Archbishops House, where he left him in the Custody of an Exempt of the Guards of the Body, whom the King had left on pur∣pose. At the same time that St. Mars was se∣cur'd at Narbonne, de Thou, and Savignac were arrested in the Army; and all three carry'd to several Places.

D' Ozonville Lieutennant in the Duke of Bouillon••s Guards who stay d with St. Mars to give Intelligence, no sooner understood that the Marquiss was taken up, but he took Post for Piemont, to tell his Master what had fal∣len out, to the end he might look to himslf. passing through Monfrin, he there found Vi∣count Turrenne, his Master's Brother, and im∣parted to him the misfortune of the Favou∣rite. The Vicount, not knowing that his Brother was engag'd in the Conspiracy, thought it his duty to give the Cardinal, no∣tice of a piece of News that so much concern'd his Repose, and sent him word withall that he

had it from Ozonville, who was going into Piemont about other Affaires. Upon which Advice, the Cardinal immediately command∣ed his under Chamberlain, to take Post and get before Ozonville, with Orders to the Go∣vernours of all the Frontier Towns to stop him, and to waylay all the Passes into Piemont to hinder the Duke of Bouillon from the know∣ledg of a thing that so much concern'd him. Thus was Vicount Turenne, by his Imprudence, the cause of his Brothers Imprisonment. O∣zonville was stopt at Valence, and Saladin car∣ry'd an Order to the Marquiss of Plessis-Pralin to arrest the Duke. Who rightly deeming that it would be no easie thing to execute such an Order in an Army of which he was Gene∣ral, made a Proposal to him, to Visit Casal before the opening of the Campaigne; and while they were upon the way he sent a Mes∣senger to Cominges, Governour of the Place, to give him notice of the Order which he had receiv'd, to the end he might be prepar'd to put it in Execution.

Upon that, Cominges invited the Duke to Supper in the Citidel, and so order'd it, that not above four Persons were to set at his Ta∣ble. The Dukes Train were treated in Rooms apart; so that the Duke being alone with Co∣minges he demanded his Sword. The Duke, no way concern'd, told him he was ready to obey, provided he shew'd him an Order in writing; otherwise he would not suffer him self to be arrested. Cominges answer••d: that

he had it not about him, but he would go and fetch it. In the mean time, the Duke slipt out of the Chamber, down staires, and pas∣sing all the Centries, got into the City before he was mist. Cominges not finding him at his return, was in a heavy Toss, as making no doubt but that his Head must have answer'd for the loss of his Prisoner. Presently there∣fore he order'd the Drums to beat an Alarum, and made the Souldiers run some one way some another after the Duke; who to prevent falling into the snare a second time got into a by-street with one Laquey that always attend∣ed him, where he spent the whole Night, leaning against a Wall, vvithout being disco∣ver'd. By break of Day he got into a House feigning that he was pursu'd for fighting a Duel, and upon the promise of a good reward perswaded the Man that open'd the Door, to hide him in a Hay-loft, where he remain'd for some Hours. But the Soldiers that look't after him entring the House, two among the rest got into the Loft, and Poking with their Halber'ds miss'd him very narrowly. However, he would not stir from his Post, till he was discover'd and arrested▪ Cominges overjoy'd that he had recover'd his Prisoner, took care to keep him safe from making a second E∣scape, till he was carry'd by the King's Or∣d••r to Lion, and there shut up close in the Castle of Pierre-Encise. St. Mars and de Thou were also carry'd thither, and Commissioners were chosen out of the King s Council and the

Par∣liament of Grenoble, of whom the Chancellor Sig••ier was President, to try ••em. These Commissioners condemn'd 'em to loose their Heads: but the Duke of Bouilion bought his Life with the loss of his Principality of Se∣dan, which he surrender d to the King. The Cardinal however did not long enjoy the pleasure of having triumphd over his Ene∣mies, nor did the King himself long survive his Chief Minister. But enough of these Tra∣gical Stories. Let us now, for a little recreation see what became of Marion de Lorme.

She endeavour'd to comfort her self for the loss of St. Mars by keeping d' Emery compa∣ny, who wholly devoted himself to her, and was at such profuse Expences to gain her Af∣fections, that when he came to make up his Accounts with Martial, the famous Persumer, from whom that Lady furnish'd herself with Gloves, Fanns, Pomatums, Essences and such like Toys, he found she had taken up in one year as much as came to fifty thousand Crowns. La Guillaumine, whom she had advanc'd from being her Laquey to be her Valet de Chambre, enrich'd himself to that degree by the Libe∣rality of this same Super-intendent, that he afterwards gave four hundred and fifty thou∣sand Livers for a Prothonotaries Place in the Council. Yet was not this Lady true to her Paramour for all this. She kept Company e∣very day with Desbarreaux who return d to Paris, after the death of the Cardinal; be∣sides several others to boot. So far was she

imitating the Fidelity of her good Friend Ma••••mois••lle d' Enclos; who thought it a stain to her Honour, to have above one Lover at a time: and tho she were not so lovely as Ma∣r••••n de Lorme, yet she had a much wit, plai'd so delicately upon the Lute, and was so sin∣cere that many prefer'd her before her friend. These happy talents induc d the Marquiss of Villarceaux, who had always a good Relish, and a true Judgment, to league himself strict∣ly with her. Upon which the Marchioness grew so jealous, that she never heard her name mention d but she fell into a passion.

This occasion'd a pleasant Story. She had by the Marquiss a pretty young Lad to her Son, who began to learn Latin, and one day it came into her head to ask his Master, whi∣ther the Boy were likely to be a Schollar. The Master, to satisfie her curiosity, bid him decline Ninus in his Mothers hearing. The Boy began Ninus, Nini, Nino, and at length he came to Ninum. But then the Mother knitting her brows, told the Master, he was an Impudent Fellow to teach her Son the name of such a Punk. 'Twas in vain for the poor man to protest that he never thought of Ninon, and that he never knew her; the Mother in her fury would hear of none of his excuses, but drove him out of the Rome with great indignation and disdain. Whether this be true or no, I know not, but I had the story from the Abbot of Bois-Robert.

Toward the end of Lewis the Thirteenth's Raign, there appear d a certain Prince, by the name of Zagachirst, who said he was one of the Kings of Ethiopia: he had an excellent Ta∣lent at Courtship, and made a world of Con∣quests in Paris. Madam Saulnier was so vio∣lently in love with him, that she gave him all she could wrap and rend out of her House∣keeping. Which was a very great accommo∣dation to that Prince, whose Subjects were not very exact in supplying him with Bills of Exchange. Monsieur Saulnier, who was a Coun∣seller in Parliament, could not brook the durati∣on of this Intreague which dishonour'd him, and was a very great disturbance to his Affairs, he put in an Information against him for debaush∣ing his Wife, and obtain'd a Capias utlegatum a∣gainst Zagachrist, who was carrid Prisoner to the Chastelet. The Lieutenant Criminal Tardieu drew up the Inditment against him, and when he askt him any question, observ'd all the Decorum that was due to the Majesty of his Character, the Party accus'd being always sitting and cover'd while the Judge stood up and with his hat off. However the Abyssiman Monarch dy'd in Prison; nor did his Subjects ever send any splendid Embassy to demand his Carkass since they could not have his Person.

Intreagues of the Court of France under the Raign of Lewis the XIV. till the Death of Cardi∣nal Mazarin.

[year 1643] IN regard the present King was but five years of Age when he came to the Crown, the Regency was granted to, Ann of Austria, his Mother, and the Lieutenancy Ge∣neral of the Kingdom to Gaston of Orleance, his Uncle. The Queen made choice of Car∣dinal Mazarin for her Prime Minister, as ha∣ving manag'd several successful Negotiations for her in Italy, and fit for the Employment. But the Duke of Beaufert in whom the Queen put a great Confidence, while she was the Ob∣ject of Richlieu's Persecutions, lookt upon her choice with an envious eye, because he was in hopes of governing the Queen during the Regency, or perhaps, for other reasons which his enemies attributed to him. The Queen who endeavour'd to prevent division, did all she could to soder disunited minds, and to oblige the Grandees of the Kingdom to live in friend∣ly manner with the Cardinal. For there were then no less then three Factions at Cour•• Mon∣sieurs, who was govern'd by the Abbot 〈…〉〈…〉

Riviere; that of the Princes of the House of Bourbon, which comprehended Lewis, Prince of Conde, the Prince of Conti, and the Duke of Longueville, who but a little before had mar∣ried their Sister Mademoiselle de Bourbon. The third was compos'd of the House of Vendosme, and the Lorrain Princes, who were alii d to the Duke of Vendosme, the Duke d' Elbeauf be∣ing his Brother-in-Law. The Ladies govern'd these Caballs: the Prince of Conde being engag'd with Madam de Coligni, afterwards Dutchess of Chastillon, Sister to the Marquiss of Bou∣teville, which had hinder'd the Prince from chastizing the presumption of Coligni, her Husband, for making his addresses to Madam de Longueville. Coligni, who was proper and goodly had expell'd the Duke of Beaufort from her Heart, and she had rudely broken off with him, tho she had written very tender Letters to him but a little before. The Duke there∣fore to make himself amends for the infidelity of Madam de Longueville, intreagu'd himself with the Dutchess of Mombason,, Daughter of the Countess of Vertus, who might well be thought the greatest Beauty of France, and sacrific'd to her the Letters of the Dutchess of Longueville.

This was the posture of the Court of France, when all the Exiles were recall'd. The Duke of Epernon return'd out of England, the Counts of Montresor, Fonterailles, and Aubijous being assur'd of the Duke of Orleance's pro∣tection, began to shew themselves publickly;

Mesdames de Senelay and Hautefort, were resto∣red to their places, and the Duke of Guise, who had quitted Brussells, came to pay his vows to Madam de Monbason. The Dutchess of Cheuvreuse, who was one of the Gang at the same time, appear'd at the Louvre, but was coldly receiv'd by the Queen, and com∣manded to withdraw to Dampierre, not that she had any real design to banish her, but she would have her be beholding to the Car∣dinal for her being restor'd into Favour, that she might be oblig d to live amicably with him. In short, he went to see her the next day, and gave her five and twenty thou∣sand Crowns and made her great offers of his Service. Immediately the Dutchess put him upon the proof of his sincerity, by demand∣ing two very important things of him. The one, that he should satisfie the Duke of Ven∣dome for his pretentions to the Government of Bretagne, in reference to which, he had as yet been only fed with words: and the next was, that the Duke of Epernon should be re∣stor d to his Emploment of Collonel of Foot, and his Government of Guinne. The Car∣dinal carri'd himself in both very obligingly, and offer'd the Duke of Vendome the Admi∣ralty, in lieu of his Government. The Duke of Epernon was restor'd to all his Honours, and nothing was omitted to get the Government of Guienne out of the Count de Harcourt's hands. Madam de Cheuvreuse, after she had obtain'd these two Favours, demanded a

third, which the Cardinal at first was very unwilling to grant, but at length he gave his consent. This was, that he would confer the Government of Havre de Grace upon the Prince of Marsillac, whom she had a desire to engage effectually in her Interests. After two such notable Tryals of her skill, she thought it impossible for that same Prime Minister to de∣ny her any thing; and therefore she pro∣pounded to him the restoration of Madam de Chastetau-Neuf: but in regard he could not consent to it without prejudice to his own particular interests, he absolutely refus'd to gratifie her: which occasion'd a Rupture; so that afterwards there was never any sincere correspondence or re∣conciliation between 'em. Chasteau-Neuf had been for some time already at Monrouge, where he happen'd to arrive the same day that the Dutchess return'd to Paris by another Roade. And perhaps if he had not stopt there, but had come directly to Court without capitulat∣ing with the Queen, he had oblig'd her by that frankness to have stuck close to him. But being desirous to follow the example of Madam de Sensay, who refus'd to return to Paris, till she was resettl'd in her Employment, he gave the Queen time to understand his temper, without desiring his nearer approach. But his case was not the same with that of Madam de Sensay, who had no body to oppose her but a person for whom the Queen had no kindness,

whereas Chastau-Neuf, besides that Monsieur the Prince's whole Family oppos'd him, gave an oc∣casion of jealousie to the Prime Minister, and had no other way but by Addresses and by degrees to gain what the Lady of Honour obtain'd up∣on her first motion. The Duke of Beaufort also lost himself by the same error; for he thought the Queen so prepossess'd with an affection to him, that he imagin'd he might be able to ruin Mazarin, by shewing himself somewhat cold to that same Princess. But that behaviour of his, alter'd all the measures that had been taken for his advancement. He had been already in nomination for a Cardi∣nals Cap; but when it was seen, that he shew'd so little acknowledgment, orders were sent away privately to Rome, to desist from any farther sollicitation in his behalf. Neither did the Duke of Vendome, his Father, carry himself with more prudence: for he scrupl'd to accept of the Office of High-Admiral with∣out the Anchorage, not considering, that it became him first of all, at any rate, to have worm'd himself into the Employment, and then he might easily afterwards have ex∣tended his Priviledges. He was so much at variance with himself what course to take, that he made his addresses sometimes to the Cardi∣nal, and acknowledg'd himself beholding to him for his Preferment; the next moment he sought an opportunity to get the Marshal d' Etrees to speak to de la Riviere, and conjure him to bring about his designs: and no sooner

was he out of his sight, but he endeavour d by indirect ways to engage Monsieur the Prince to serve him. In short, there was hardly an hour past over his head, but he chang'd both his sentiments and his Party.

The Duke of Beaufort therefore seeing his measures broken by the removal of Chasteau-Neuf, resolv'd to rid himself of the Cardinal, and subordain'd certain persons to kill him, as he went to the Palace Royal, where the Queen then lay, or else as he return'd. But the Cardinal having an inkling of what was contriving against him, immediatly went to the Palace Royal, tho he knew the Queen was not there, and sent for all his friends. The Duke of Beaufort, who narrowly watch'd him, took notice of the swarm he had got about him, and rightly guest from thence, that his project had taken air, which oblig'd him to defer the execution of it till the next day, when he might have a better op∣portunity, as he believ'd, because the Cardi∣nal was to go that day to Maisons, and con∣sequently to pass by the Hostle de Vendome. However he was still disappointed: for the Cardinal meeting the Duke of Orleance by the way, the Duke took him into his Coach, and the respect which they bore to the King's Uncle, hinder'd the Conspirators from mak∣ing any attempt. In the Mean time the Queen being inform'd of the Duke of Beaufort's de∣signs, caus d him to be arrested and sent him away Prisoner to the Castle of Vincennes.

The Dutchess imagining, that Monsieur the Prince had been the principle cause of the Duke of Beaufort's imprisonment, and of Cha∣st••au-Neufs misfortune, resolv'd to be reveng'd. Now tho Ladies are apt to flatter themselves in the opinion of their Beauty, yet her Mir∣ror had already several times inform'd her, that her Charmes half worn away stood in need of some younger person to strengthen her party; nor was she constrain••d to look out farther then her own Family. The Daughter of the Countess of Vertus, whom the Duke of Monbason, her Father, had mar∣ried, was as we have said already, the most lovely Woman in France: besides, she had a secret despite against Monsieur the Prince's Sister, who having marri'd the Duke of Lon∣gueville, had depriv'd her of a Lover, and therefore it was no hard matter for the Dutchess of Cheuvreux to win her into a Con∣federacy with her. The Duke of Guise also, who since his return, had declar'd for that fair Dutchess, engag'd all the Lorrain Princes to embrace his Party, to which they were al∣ready well enclin'd out of respect to the Duke of Cheuvreux, who was of the same Fa∣mily. These two Ladies, having contracted a strict friendship, resolv'd to satisfie their re∣venge, by attacking the reputation of Madam de Longuevi••••e. To that purpose they publisht the Letters which that Princess had written to the Duke of Beaufort: They also counter∣feited others, which as they said, had been

written by Madam de Longueville to Coligni. The Princess of Conde therefore understand∣ing that the Dutchess of Monbason had spread abroad this report, displaid her resentment, and engag'd all her Friends to assist her in doing her self justice. This quarrel divided the whole Court, and made the Queen afraid least it should revive the ancient feud between the two Houses of Bourbon and Guise. These two parties were equally matched, because the Duke of Lorrain who had marri'd into the House of Guise, had declar'd for Madam de Monbason, and so this difference might be at∣tended with pernicious consequences. And tho the Queen were concern'd to hinder the Duke of Orleance from uniting too closely with the Prince of Conde, for fear least their au∣thority should prove prejudicial to hers, yet in regard there was more danger in suffering 'em to push things on to the last extremity, she laboured to reconcile the Ladies. To which purpose she engag'd the Princess of Conde, and the Dutchess of Longueville to ac∣cept of the satisfaction which Madam de Mon∣bason was ready to give 'em. Thereupon the Dutchess was wrought to declare in the Queen's presence to the two Princesses, that she had no share in spreading the reports, and that she utterly disown'd 'em. On the other side, the two Princesses as it had been agreed upon before, declar'd that they were willing to believe her, because Madam de Monbason said it. It was also convenanted by

the same accommodation, that the Dutchess of Monbason should avoid all occasions of meeting the two Princesses, which in the con∣clusion she never took care to observe.

For the Dutchess of Cheuvreux having invited the Queen to a Collation which she had provid∣ed for h••r at Renard▪s House, carri'd her Mo∣ther-in-Law with her to assist her in the man∣agement of the Solemnity. On the other side, the Queen took a long with her the Princess of Conde, who seeing the Dutchess of Monbason, would have gone back again; but the Queen bid her stay, and desir'd the Dutchess for her sake to to walk off, and divertise her self some where else. Which she did after such an unmannerly fa∣shion, that the Queen was highly offended; in∣somuch that when she return'd to the Palace Royal, she sent her an Order by Guenegaud, the Secretary of State to retire forthwith to her House at Rochefort. 'Twas thought there would have been an end of this quarrel by the re∣moval of the Dutchess, but Coligny, who did not think himself sufficiently reveng'd upon 'em for designing to create a difference with the House of Bourbon, to which he had the honour to be alli'd, sent a Challenge to the Duke of Guise by the Marquiss d' Estrades. The Duke accepted the Challenge, and took for his second the Marquiss de Brideu. The Duel was fought in the Royal Piazza, where the Duke of Guise had absolutely the better, as having disarm'd and dangerously wounded his Adversary; after which he went to part the

Seconds, who fought with great courage, but without any harm done on either side. This Duel got the Duke of Guise a great reputati∣on, and would have augmented the value which his Mistress already had for him, had he persever'd in that engagement, but his heart gave way to other impressions in a short time afterwards.

The Queens six Maids of Honour were all of 'em beautiful and wanton, except Made∣moiselle de Segur, upon whom the following Couplet was made.

But how unjust is young Segur! Flaxen her Hair, Complexion pure, But Heart so hard, that no Addresses Can gain her Amorous Caresses.

But the Lady whose Beauty had made the greatest noise was Mademoiselle de Pons, of an Illustrious Family in Guyenne. Her adorers were the principal Gallants of the Court, and a∣mong the rest the Duke of Candale, the Son of the Duke of Espernon, admitted by Survi∣viourship to the Command of Collonel Gene∣ral of the Infantry. Mareschal Schomburg, Collonel General of the Swisses, the Marquiss of Ville••••ier. Captain of the Guards of the Body, the Marquiss of Moissans, Lieutenant of the King's Gens-de-Arms, and the Duke Joyuse, Great Chamberlain, Brother to the Duke of Guise. This Latter had caus'd Madam de Pons's Picture to be drawn in Miniature, but had

not taken it away from the Painter: in the mean time the Duke of Guise happen'd to go by chance to the Painters house, where he saw the Picture, and was so charm'd with it, that he put it in his Poket, and carri'd it away notwithstanding all that the Painter could say to him, only he was so just as to pay him thirty Pistoles for his work. The Picture in∣fus'd a desire into him to make his addresses to the Original; he discours'd Mademoiselle de Pons; discover'd his Passion to her; and was so assidous in his addresses, that he dis∣peirc'd the greatest part of her Lovers. The Duke of Candale engag'd himself with the Marchioness of Castellana, which was the cause of his death; she having given him too violent marks of her Love, when he pass'd through A∣vignon, where usually she liv'd, in his return from Catalogna, where he comanded the Kings Army.

The Duke of Joyeuse made his addresses to Mademoiselle de Guerchi, a great Companion of Madam de Pons's, who sacrific'd him aferwards to the Commander de Jars, of the House of Roche Chouard. The Duke therefore to be re∣veng d of his Brother for depriving him of his former Mistress, endeavour d to put a for∣midable Rival upon him, and to that intent so highly cri'd up the Charms of Madam de Pons to the Duke of Orleance, that he set him a gog to get the sole possession of her. Pre∣sently he became her most diligent Servant, and for some time was a great disturbance to the Duke of Guise; who understanding that his

Brother had rais'd him up that Rival to per∣plex him, endeavour'd to pay him in his own Coyn. Understanding therefore that the Duke of Joyeuse made his addresses to Made∣moeselle de St. Megrin, who was also one of the Queen's Maids of Honour, he perswaded that Lady that Monsieur was in Love with her, and knowing there was to be a Ball within an Evening or two at the Regents Lodgings, he desir'd her in Monsieur's name to give him a Blew Ribband that she wore upon her Sleive, assuring her that the Duke desir'd to wear that favour of hers when he came to the meet∣ing. The Lady being easily entreated gave Guise the Ribband, who presently carri'd it Monsieur, and requested him in the Ladies name to wear it that Evening at the Ball, which he did accordingly. After which, to Monsieur, who began to be a weary of the great croud that usually environ'd Madam de Pons, left her, and stuck to Mad. de St. Me∣grin, who had not so numerous a throng about her, and by that means deliver'd the Duke of Guise from the vexation of his Rival∣ship.

The time being come for the Army to take the Field, the Duke of Orleance went to com∣mand the Army in Flanders; and was accom∣pani d thither by the greatest part of the Met∣tl'd Nobility that belong'd to the Court. The Duke of Guise and Marquiss of Villequiers went as Voluntiers; and at the same time, to give proofs of their Valour and their love for their

Mistresses, they resolv'd at the Siege of Dix∣mude, to venture so far in the Trenches, that whoever of the two lost his life, the survivour might be so happy as to enjoy Mad. de Pons without a Rival. The same day the Besieg'd made a Salley, where the two Lovers gave signal marks of their Courage, but tho neither the one nor the other were any way sparing of their persons, yet they both came off without so much as being wounded. Upon which, the Duke of Guise, who was very sincere, wrote a Letter to Mad. de Pons, where∣in he highly extoll'd the undaunted Bravery of his Rival.

When they reurn'd from the Campaign, the Court remov'd to Fontain Bleau, where hap∣pen'd a great quarrel who should have the King's Musick, which Villequier had bespoke to give Madam de Pons an entertainment upon the Canal, and which the Duke of Guise would have had for the same design: insomuch that the Queen was forc'd to make use of her au∣thority to deside the difference. There also happen'd another quarrel between the Duke and Marshal Schomburg, about a certain Lam∣poon which had been made upon the Queens Maids of Honour, wherein the Duke of Guise was severely nipt; and Copies were carri'd to him under the hand of the Marshal's Se∣cretary; which was the reason that the Master was accus'd to be the Author.

But the Duke d' Elbeauf having notice of the quarrel, made up the business, and reconcil∣ed 'em. However the Duke of Guise being desi∣rous to free himself from the competition of all his Revals, begg'd leave of the Queen that he might Court his Mistress upon the account of Matrimony; which having obtain d, he sent to her Chamber her Dyet ready drest from his own House, and order'd his own Officers to attend her, which created an extraordinary jealousie among his Competitours.

1645. But because the Duke of Guise could not marry Madam de Pons, till he had dissolv'd his Marriage with the Countess of Bossu, he resolv'd to go to Rome, to Prosecute the Di∣vorce before the Tribunal of the Ruota. The Action also was already commenc'd, and his Mother sent two Gentlemen thither to far∣ther it. But when she understood her Son's Affection for Madam de Pons, she sent to her Agent to desist. At length the Duke him∣self departed, and after he had escap'd the dangers of the Sea, arriv'd safely at Florence, where he oblig'd the Grand Duke to write in his behalf to Innocent X. then newly ad∣vanc'd to the Pontificate. When he arriv'd at Rome, he was kindly receiv'd by the Pope, who also at his request, granted the Cardinals Cap to Mazarins Brother. For the Duke was in hopes that such a Piece of Service would have engag'd the Prime Minister to have fa∣vour'd his Design; but he was so far from it

that the French Embassador had Order to cross and frustrate his Proceedings.

After the Departure of the Prince, Made∣moiselle de Pons, not being satisfy d with her usage at Court, retir'd to the Convent of Chassemidi, where her Lovers Officers wait∣ed upon her every day, in the House belong∣ing to the Convent, whether she went at the Hours of Dinner and Supper through a long Gallery which joyn'd the seperate Apartment and the Convent together. On the other side the Duke being inform'd of her Persecu∣tions, lent an Ear to a Proposal that Touti made him to put himself into Naples and command the Army of the Rebels. He wrote therefore to the Cardinal to give him notice of this Proposal, and having obtain'd leave, he Embarqu'd in a Shallop, and passing through the midst of the Spanish Fleet, got safe into Naples, where he met with great difficulties to be surmounted. For before his Arrival, the sole Authority was in the hands of Jennaro, who was no more then a Sword-Cutler at first, but he was constrain'd at last to give way to the Duke. So soon as the Duke had the Power in his Hands, he forbid any more Plundring of Houses, which Jenuaro, suffer'd every day, to enrich himself. Upon which, that Brute of a Commander conceiv d so great an Enmity against the Duke, that he would ne∣ver after pardon him, but joyning with the Ma∣gistrate most popular among the Revolters, and no less vex d then himself to miss his

share of the Plunder, they both together fram'd several contrivances against the Dukes Life. Besides, he had neither Provision nor Amunition in the City, nor money to buy a∣ny: for that, the Captain of the Rebels, till then, had mentain'd his Men by the Plunder of the Houses only; so that the Duke was constrain'd to supply all his Exigencies by his own Credit. For he receiv'd no Succor from France, because the Cardinal imagin'd, as it was true enough, that the Duke had a design to make himself King of Naples, that he might set a Crown upon the Head of Ma∣demoiselle de Pons. The Kings Fleet that came to an Anchor before the Haven of the City, serv'd to no other purpose but to debase his Reputation among the people, because they brought neither Men nor Ammunition. Yet for all these dissasters, nothing abated the Dukes Courage nor lessend his Affection for his Mi∣stress. For after he had driven the Spaniards from their Principal Posts, and taken diverse considerable Prisoners, he thought he might then act like a King; so that he sent a Procu∣ration to the Marquiss of Brancas, his Kins∣man, to marry Mademoiselle de Pons in his name.

The Marquiss inform'd the Cardinal of all this, who to assure himself of the Dukes Fi∣delity, thought it convenient to shut up Ma∣demoiselle de Pons in a Convent, whether she was sent by the Queen's Order. But the Lady having notice of the design against her

Liberty resolv'd to fly with two of her Lo∣vers, to whom she had imparted the reason of the Alarums, and who had promis'd both to facilitate her flight, and to bear her com∣pany. Thereupon she stole out of the Con∣vent, leaving behind her the two Maids that were wont to attend her; but she got no farther then St. Clou. For the two Lovers not being able to agree among themselves who should have the greatest share in her, advis'd her to return to the Convent.

All this while they had been so long con∣tending one with another, till it was Night, and the Nunns were retir'd to their Cells: nevertheless, her Maids having notice of her return, caus'd the Gates of the Convent to be open'd, pretending their was a Courrier ar∣riv'd from the Duke of Guise, that was to speak with their Mistress. By which means she got into the House where he was accu∣stom'd to eat, and so return d to her Apart∣ment, without any discovery being made of her absence.

However the Queen who had some inkling of her Escape, had sent, whlle she was at St. Clou, to the Convent an Exempt of the Guards of the Body to know whether she were there or no, and to speak with her. Upon which one of her Maids that most resembl'd her in tallness and shape, came to the Grate of the speaking-place with her face wrapt in her Handkerchif, feigning to have the ••oothach. The Exempt brought back word again to the

Queen that he had spoken to a certain Person that was like her, but could not say it 'twast Mademoiselle de Pons, because he could not see her Face. The Queen therefore sent the next day the Dutchesses of Eguillon and Lyancourt with Orders to carry her to the Convent of Nunns, of the Visitation of the Holy Virgin in St. Anthonies Street; which they did with so much severity, that they would neither suffer her to take her Maids along with her, nor to speak with any body. Of all which she inform d the Duke of Guise by a Letter, who wrought with so much vehemence back again to the Queen and the Cardinal, that for fear of exasperating his dispaire, and forc∣ing him to treat with the Spaniards, they set Mademoiselle de Pons at liberty, and gave her leave to retire to Angloises upon St. Victor's Mote, where she was visited by all her Friends.

The same Year there fell out another Ac∣cident which had like to have reviv'd the an∣cient feuds between the Houses of Bourbon and Lorrain. The Marquiss of Chabet a Favourite of Monsieur the Prince, had marry'd the Heir∣ess of the House of Rohan without the con∣sent of the Dutchess of Rohan her Mother, who to be reveng'd of her, set up a Brother, of whom as she said, she lay in privately at Paris the 18 of December 1630, upon her re∣turn from Paris, in the presence only of two Women and her Apothecary. She pretend∣ed also that she had caus'd him to be Bap∣tiz'd under Counterfeit Names, because her

Husband was then at variance with the Court, that she had nam'd him Tancrede, and that she had caus'd him to be bred up by a La∣dy of her acquaintance, call'd Mademoiselle Millet. That the Duke of Rhoan, returning to Paris in 1634, saw this Son of his several times with great satisfaction. That the Spa∣niards having taken Corbie in 1636. and the Parisians having taken the Alarum, she sent away Tancrede into Normandy, to the Father of Temon, her Steward to secure his Person, till she could take him along with her out of France. That this Son was stolen away by people unknown the 2d of February 1638. That seven Years after, she discover'd that Tancrede had been stollen away by the order of Made∣moiselle de Rohan, and carri'd to Leyden, in Hol∣land, where his Pension was paid to a Mer∣chant by his Sister. However it were, the Dutchess of Rohan sent for this Son, whether real or supposed to Paris, and the Duke of Guise, at the Request of M. de Pons, who was a particu∣lar friend of the Dutchesses, went to meet him, took him into his Coach, carry'd him to his House, and declar'd himself his Protector, while Monsieur the Prince with great heat sup∣ported Chabet's Interest; but Tancrede was kill d in the Civil Wars, and so put an end to that Controversie.

The Duke of Guise understanding what ef∣fect his Letters had produc'd, resolv'd to make one fair push for it, to open the Passages and make way for Provisions to come to the Ci∣ty.

To which purpose he went and laid Siege to a little Island within a League of Naples, and within a few hours reduced the Spani∣ards that were in the Fort to Capitulate. Now in regard the place was not to be deliver'd till the next day, the Duke was forc'd to stay there all Night, and in that time Gennaro, to∣gether with the chief Magistrate of the Peo∣ple, and the rest of the Dukes Enemies, sign'd the Treaty which they had made with the Spaniards, and deliver'd the Principal Posts of tne City into their hands. So that when the Duke would have return'd, he found the Gates shut, and an Enemy fireing upon him. He sought then to make his Escape with some Squadrons that stook to him, but all the Pas∣ses were so well guarded that he was forc'd to yeild himself a Prisoner. Don John of Au∣stria, who at that time commanded the Spa∣nish Army in the Kingdom of Naples, after he had kept him some for time in the Castle of Puzzuolo, sent him to Segovià in Spain, where he remain'd some years, and ran a great hazard of his Life, becuse he had not been own'd by France.

During his Imprisonment, Mademoiselle de Pons became unfaithful to him; for having at a Ball at Chauron the Presidents Wife's House, beheld Malicorne, the Chavalier de Hautefort's Brother, who seated himself at her Feet to discourse of Love, she took an Affection to him, and forgot all that the Duke of Guise had done for her. However, this Passion was thwarted by Malicorm's Family, who did all

they could to break off this Engagement; but all their Obstacles serv'd only to unite 'em more closely together; nor could the return of the Duke of Guise oblige 'em to a separa∣tion.

But before we speak of the Revolutions that happen'd the next Year, 'tis requisite we should say something of the rest of the Queen's Maids of Honour, Mademoiselle de Chemeraut had marry'd La Basiniere, Treasurer of the Privy Purse, and Mademoiselle de St. Louis was wedded to the Marquiss of Flavacour. Ma∣demoiselle de St. Megrin; after she had harken'd a while to the Marquiss of St. Meme, the Monsieur's first Esquire, broke off with him to engage herself with the Marquiss de Broutte, Collonel of the Regiment of Navarr, whom she took for her Husband, when the Civil Wars were at an end. Mademoiselle de Ne∣villan made choice of the Duke of Novailles, who at the conclusion of the Troubles made her his Wife. So that there was only Mademoi∣selle de Guerchi that could not meet with a Hus∣band. She had quitted the Commander de Jaret, wholly to give her self up to Jeannin of Castille, the King's Treasurer, and she carry'd herself with so little reserv'dness, that the Queen ex∣pell'd her the Court. However the Duke of Vitry, engag d with her for all that, and treated her with as much respect as if she had been a Lu∣cretia, tho' she had had four or five Children by several Fathers. More then that, she grew with Child a sixth time, and the Duke being desirous

to preserve her Reputation, which he would not believe to be quite so much lost as it was, nothing would serve his turn but that she must come before her Time. 'Twas in vain to cry, she should be overjoy'd to have such a Pledge of their Friendship; he was absolutely re∣solv'd she should destroy the fruit of their A¦mours, and sent her a Midwife, whose name was Constantine, who would needs deliver her by force: but she dy'd in the Operation, and Constantine was hang d. The Duke of Vitry was a long time a comfortless bemoaner of her death, and preserv'd the Memory of her so charily, that he afterwards engag d him∣self with a common Harlot, because the Strum∣pet resembl'd her. And that Woman being enrich'd by his Liberality, marry'd afterwards the Marquiss of Goudron, a younger Brother to the House of Gamache.

1649. The Duke of Beaufort having made his Escape out of the Castle of Vincennes, enter'd into a new League with the Princes of the House of Lorrain, the Parliament and the People who had taken Arms upon the Im∣prisonment of the President Blanc-Menil, and Broussel a Councellor in the same Body; which enforc'd the Queen to besiege Paris. Mon∣sieur the Prince, who then adhear'd to her In∣terests commanded the King's Army, and con∣strain'd the Mutineers to Capitulate. But the pretentions of the Prince, whose extra∣ordinary service had augmented his Reputa∣tion,

were so great, that Mazarin, fearing least he should grow too Powerful, resolv'd together with the Queen to arrest not only him, but the Prince of Conti, his Brother, and the Duke of Longueville, his Brother-in-Law. The Marquiss of Miossans had the War∣rant and did this business with so much address, that in recompence of his service he obtain'd a Marsh••l of France's Battoon; and was after∣wards call'd Marshal d' Albret. The three Princes were carry'd to the Castle of Vincennes, Guarded by the Marquiss of Barr, thence remov d to the Castle or Marcousins, and from thence to Havre de Grace. The Princess of Conde and the Dutchess of Longueville not be∣ing able to obtain their Husbands Liberty, put themselves into Bourdeaux, and caus'd an Insurrection over all Guyenne; which enforc'd the Queen to march thither with all her Of∣ficers to reduce that Province under her Obe∣dience. And when the Court return'd from that Expedition, Monsieur, who had suffer'd himself to be gain'd by the Cardinals Ene∣mies who were then call'd Slingers, solicited so powerfully for the Liberty of the Princes, that they were constrain'd to grant him their Release, and the Cardinal himself was forc'd to depart the Kingdom.

When the Queen saw the Princes at Liber∣ty, she endeavour'd to regain the Prince of Conde, and by the meditation of the Princess Palatin, offer'd him the Government of Guy∣onne for himself, and that of Province for the

Prince of Conti, provided he would not op∣pose the Cardinals return, and that he would break off the Marriage of his Brother with Mademoiselle de Cheuvreuse, which was one of the Conditions upon which the Slingers had interested themselves in obtaining his Liberty. This negotiation was kept very private, and tho the Slingers press'd very earnestly for the Consumation of the Marriage, the Dutchess of Longueville and the Duke of Rochefoucaut left nothing omitted to cross it, for fear the Prince of Conti, should escape their hands, and joyn with the Dutchess of Cheuvreuse and Gondi Coadjutor of Paris. Monsieur the Prince was overjoy'd that those two Persons assisted him in his designes without any necessity of putting himself to the trouble; which made him en∣deavour to augment the jealousies which the Slingers had conceiv'd of his Sister, and the Duke of Rochefoucaut. However they forbore not to send to Rome in order to obtain a dis∣pensation upon the account of Consanguinity, and the Prince of Conti waited impatiently for it, because the Person of Mademoiselle de Cheu∣vreuse particularly pleas'd him, and for that he would have been glad to have quitted the Cause of the Church, which they had forc'd him to embrace against his will. However he conceal'd his last thoughts from his friends with all the Artifice he was capable of, and chiefly from Madam de Longueville, as being desirous she should believe that he acted only upon the score of Love.

In the midst of these perplexities, he pri∣vately requested the President Viole, who was to draw up the Articles of the Marriage, to yield to all the points that should be contested, and to surmount all difficulties. During this Negotiation, the Queen took the Seals from Chateau-Neuf, and gave 'em to Matthew Mole, first President of the Parliament, which en∣creas'd the distrusts of Madam de Cheuvreuse about the Marriage which she so-earnestly la∣bour'd for, because it was upon the Credit of that Minister that she had grounded all her hopes of procuring to Monsieur the Prince the Establishment for which she had engag'd her self, and which was to have been ratifi'd at the same time that the Marriage was solemniz'd. The only thing that chear'd her up was the Prince of Contis, extraordinary Passion for her. He paid her a thousand obsequious vi∣sits, which he conceal'd from his friends, and more especially from his Sister, and had very long and private Conferences with L'aygues, and Marmontieres, of which, contrary to his custome, he never gave an account to any bo∣dy. In short, his conduct appear'd so extra∣ordinary, that the President Nemond, the Prince or Conde's particular creature, thought himself oblig'd to give him notice of his Bro∣thers design, and told him that he was going about to marry the Dutchess of Cheuvreuse, without either dispensation, or letting any body know it; that he hid himself from all his friends to treat with L'aygues, and that

if he did not speedily put a stop to it, he would see the Prince of Conti taken from him by the Datchess of Cheuvreuse, and the Mar∣riage consummated at a time when people thought he had most reason to prevent it. This fair warning, settl d his wavering thoughts, so that without any farther consultation away he went to the Prince of Co••ti, and began his discourse with joking upon the vehemency of his Love; but he concluded it with talking of Mademoiselle de Cheuveruse, the Coadjutor Nourmoutier and Commartin whatever he thought most prevalent to disgust a Lover or a Husband. Nor did he meet with any great dif∣ficulty in bringing about his design, whether it were that the Prince of Conti thought he spoke truth, or that he durst not make any shew of misdoubting it. He thankt him therefore for his wholesome advice, and took a resolu∣tion never to think of the Dutchess more; he also blam'd the Dukes of Longuoville and Ro∣chefoucaui, for not informing him sooner of what the World said of her. From that time forward they sought to break off the match without imbitterment on either side, but the Interests were too great, and the Circum∣stances too hard to be digested, for any body to think they could produce any other ef∣fect, then an absolute reviving and reinflam∣ing the old Grudges, which the Duthcess of Cheuvreuse and the Slingers bare the Prince of Conde, whom they suspected to haye had a share in the Rupture.

However the President Viole was order'd to visit the Dutchess of Cheuvreuse, to disingage the Prince of Conde and Conti, with some sort of Decorúm and good Manners from the pro∣mises they had made and broken in reference to the Marriage. The next day after both the one and the other were to pay her a lit∣tle visit: but whither it were that they could not put that force upon themselves as to wait upon a person to whom they knew their company would be altogether unwellcome, or that the two Brothers, who fell out every day upon the most trivial occasions, could not agree about the manner of paying this visit, neither they, nor the President Viole per∣form'd the intended Ceremony. So that the affair broke off on their side without obser∣ving any measures, or any way endeavour∣ing to justifie what they had done. As for Mademoiselle de Cheuvreuse she was so affected at this same alteration of the Princes humour, that she threw her self into a Carmalite Nun∣nery, where she took the habbit upon her soon after.

But the breaking off this Marriage, which it was thought would have reunited the Prince and the Queen together, wrought a contrary effect. For the Queen imagin'd by dividing the Prince of Conde and Madam de Cheuvreuse to have united the Slingers to the Cardinals interests, and that things would have been in the same condition as they were when the three Princes were arrested. But several dif∣ferent

Interests spurr'd on the Prince of Con∣de to break off with the Court: he found him∣self no longer safe with the Queen, and was afraid of relapsing into a second Confinement. Madam de Longueville knew that the Cardinal had irreconcileably embroyl'd her with her Husband, and that after those impressions of her conduct which the Cardinal had imprinted in her Husbands thoughts, she could not re∣pair to him in his Government of Normandy without the hazard of her Life or Liberty. However the Duke was desirous to have her company by all manner of ways, nor had she any pretence to avoid this dangerous voyage, but only that she staid to perswade her Brother to quit the Court in a fury, and prepare him∣self for a Civil War. The Prince of Conti aim'd at nothing certain, nevertheless he fol∣ow'd his Sisters sentiments, not knowing what they were, and was desirous of a War, as being that which would give him an op∣portunity to quit his Breviary, for which he had no kindness. The Duke of Nemours also most earnestly advis'd it; tho his sentiments proceeded not so much from his Ambition as from his jealousie of Mounsieur the Prince. For he was fallen most violently in love with the Dutchess of Chatillon, who had been a long time before intreagu'd with the Prince of Conde, and in regard he could not break off their familiarity but by separating 'em forever, he knew no other way to succed but by a War; and that was the only motive

which induc'd him to desire it. The Con∣duct of the Court, and the Prince's behavi∣our, soon furnish'd both sides with occasion of mistrust; and both parties prepar'd a like for a Rupture. The Prince of Conde sent the Marquiss of Silleri into Flanders under pre∣tence of disingaging Madam de Logueville, and Marshal Turenne from the Treaties they had made with the Spaniards to procure his Liber∣ty; but in truth he had orders to take measures with the Count of Fuensalida Gover∣nour of the Low Countries, and to sound him before hand what assistance the Prince might expect, if he were constrain'd to a War. The Count return'd his answer to the proposal ac∣cording to the usual custom of the Spaniards, and promising much more then could rea∣sonably be expected from him, left nothing omitted to engage the Prince to take Arms. The Prince also by means of Vinueil negotia∣ted with Mademoiselle de Pons to engage the Duke of Guise in his party, obliging himself when he treated with Spain to procure his li∣berty, which he did effectually. Moreover upon notice of a intended design to arrest him, he withdrew to St. Maur, and by the Duke of Rochefoucaut gave notice to the Duke of Or∣leance of the occasion of his withdrawing out of the way. He refus'd to speak in private with Marshal Gramont, who came in the King's name to demand the cause of his withdrawing, and to invite him to return to Paris with a pro∣mise of all security. But the Prince return'd

him an answer in the hearing of all the com∣pany that were present, That th•• Cardinal Mazarin were remov'd from the Court, his Spirit and his Maxims raign'd there still, and therefore there could be no safety in that place for his person. The Prince of Conti al∣so and Madam de Longueville repaird to St. Maur, as soon as the Prince arriv'd there, and for the first days there was a Court no less numerous nor less crouded with persons of Quality then the Kings, with all divertise∣ments serviceable to Politics, as Balls, Comedies, Play, and Hunting; and the welcome entertain∣ment drew an i••finite number of fickle people, that always offer their Service at the beginning of parties dividing themselves, and which ei∣ther betray or abandon 'em according to their fears or their interests. Thus Mounsieur the Prince believing he was in a conditi∣on to support himself at Pa••is against the Court, repair'd thither, and sent Madam the Princess, the Duke of Enguien, and Madam de Longueville to Montrond, with a design to pass soon after into G••yenne, where the whole Province was prepar d to receive him. But when he arriv'd in the Capital City of the Kingdom, he found that the Cabal of Slingers were absolutely against him, in hopes that the Court would protect 'em in their opposi∣tion to him. The Coadjutor, who was the head of 'em, openly declar'd himself his Ene∣my, and never went to the Palace without a great number of armed Men at his heels;

which oblig'd the Prince to do the same: nay, one day the two parties were ready to have drawn upon one anoher in the great Hall.

The Prince therefore fearing least the Slin∣gers should be too strong for him at Paris, pas∣sed into Guyenne, where fortune was as little favourable to him, the Count de Harcourt ha∣ving always the advantage over him. On the other side, the Duke of Nemours, who commanded the Army that came out of Flan∣ders, and the Duke of Beaufort who led the Duke of Orleance's Troops, being ready to joyn near the River Loire, corre∣sponded so ill together, that the Prince of Conde thought it necessary to take the com∣mand of both together, to prevent the un∣lucky consequences that might attend the misunderstandings of the Chieftains. To that purpose he at length departed, leaving the Count of Marsin in Bourdeaux to keep that City with the whole Province under his obe∣dience, and to hinder his enemies from tak∣ing any advantage of the differences between the Prince of Conti, and Madam de Longue∣ville. For the Prince of Conti could not en∣dure she should have any Lover, and display'd those transports of his jealousie which no way became a Brother.

At length the Prince of Conde arriv'd in the Army with a small train, after he had es∣cap'd many da••gers; beat Marshal d' Hoquin∣court, and had some advantage over Marshal Turenne; but tho fortune was favourable to

him in both those enterprises, however he was desirous of Peace and was willing to enter into a Negotiation with the Court. To which purpose he sent away Gourville, with an Instrument drawn up in the pre∣sence of the Dutchess of Chatillon, and the Dukes of Nemours and Rochefoucaut. Present∣ly the greatest part of the Propositions made by the Prince were granted, nor had the Treaty been broken off, but upon the pre∣tentions of the Duke of Bouillon, who desir d that the Dutchy of Albret might be taken from the Prince and settl d upon him, in lieu of what had been promis'd him for the loss of Sedan. The Dutchess of Ghatillon, seeing the Negotiation broken off, would needs undertake the accommodation her self, and perswaded the Prince to give his consent. For she most passionately desir'd Peace, out of a design to despite Madam de Longueville, whose interest it was to hinder a Pacification, that she might not be oblig'd to return to her Husband. The Emulation which Beauty and Courtship frequently causes among Ladies had occasion'd an extraordinary feud between the two Dutch∣esses; and they had a long time conceal'd their animosity; but at length it broke out with a vengence on both sides. Nor did Madam de Chatillon confine her Victory to the obligation she had laid upon Nemours to breake of all fa∣miliarity with Madam de Longueville upon cir∣cumstances no less entrenching upon her Ho∣nour then publickly known, she would also

deprive him of the knowledge of Affairs, and have the Conduct and Interests of the Prince solely at her disposal. The Duke of Ne∣mours, who was deeply engag'd with her, ap∣prov'd this design, and thought that being a∣ble to govern and manage Madam de Chatillon's Behaviour toward the Prince, she would in∣fuse into him those sentiments that He should inspire into Her; and by that means, that he should over-rule the Prince, by that power which he had over Madam de Chatillen. But tho' the Dutchess appeard at Court with more then ordinary splendour, the Negotiation came to nothing; she being the only Person that prov'd a gainer by it; while the Prince be∣stow'd upon her the Lordship of Morlon in re∣compence of the pains she had taken.

The Prince of Conde's Army being repuls'd by the King's, was constrain'd to retreat in∣to St. Anthonies Subburbs, where the Marshal Turenne fell upon it, and where a great num∣ber of Valliant Men fell on both sides, and a∣mong the rest the Duke of Chatillon; and in∣deed all the Princess Forces had been defeated had not the Parisians opend St. Anthonies-Gate, and suffer'd 'em to march through the City. Nevertheless, the cares of the War did not hin∣der the Generals from making Love. For the Duke of Nemours understanding that the Duke of Beaufort had an Intreague with a Wo∣man of Quality, whose name we know not, endeavour'd to deprive him of that Conquest, and his endeavours prov'd successful, the La∣dy

appointing to meet him at a certain place assign'd in the night time. But as he was go∣ing thither he found a Door open, where some body becken'd to him to come in. Up went he into the first apartment, and there found the Wife of an Advocate, handsome enough, and nothing at all squemish, tho' she perceiv'd the mistake of her Chamber-maid who had introduc'd the Duke of Nemours in∣stead of another Advocate who was her Mis∣tresses Gallant. However, whether it were that the Woman's easie Condescention dis∣gusted the Duke, or that his imagination was full of the Person that he sought for, he prov'd such another Person as Petronius represents Polyenus to be in Company of Circe. He did all that he could to reinliven his languishing Vigour, and spent so much time in reinforc∣ing his wasted Ammunition that he mist his opportunity of the other meeting. However being desirous to make his excuse to the disap∣pointed Lady, he went to her and engag'd her to meet him the next day in the Laby∣rinth, belonging to the Physick Garden in the Suburbs of St. Victor. Now it happen'd that the Duke of Beaufort going t ither the same day and the same hour; heard through a thick Hedge, the voice of these two Lovers. With that he fell a listning, and understood enough to convince him, that the Duke of Nemours, with whom he was but too much embroyl'd already, had made his Mistress unfaithful to him. Thereupon the Duke of Beaufort chal∣leng'd

the Duke of Nemours, who accepted the Challenge; and tho Brothers-in-Law, they met in the Horse-Market. The Duke of Ne∣mours discharg d his Pistol first with more fury then good aim, and having mist his Blow, the Duke of Beaufort discharg'd his so well to the purpose in his adversaries Head, that he lay d him weltring at his feet. The death of this Duke having deliver'd the Prince from a Ri∣val, his affection for Madam de Chatillon be∣gan to grow cold, and being over-rul'd by the Spaniards, he pass'd into Flanders. On the other side the Dutchess strove to comfort her self up for the loss that her disloyalty had brought upon her with the Abbot Toquet, who fell passionatly in love with her at the Conferences they had together about the Peace; this Abbot being entrusted by Cardi∣nal Mazarin with the management of his in∣terests.

1653. The Duke of Guise being releas'd from the Castle of Segovia, in pursuance of the Treaty which the Prince of Conde had made with the Spaniards, prov'd not so generous as to take his Benefactors side, but return'd to Paris, more in love with Mademoiselle de Pons then he was before his imprisonment, but he met not, in her, with the same sentiments for himself. Her inclinations were altogether for Malicorne; and in regard she made it her business to find out all the ways imaginable to be in his company, without giving the

Duke of Guise any cause of suspicion, she en∣gag'd the Prince to take his Rival into his service, faigning that she was highly obligd to the Gentlemans Father, and that he had assisted her with an extraordinary affection during the Dukes absence; and that she might have the more easie opportunities to enjoy Malicorne, she desir'd the credulous Prince never to visit her but in the Evening; alleadg∣ing that their intreague had made a great noise, and therefore 'twas requisite they should ma∣nage their familiarity with so much the more discretion by which means she had her full li∣berty to enjoy her Favourite in the Afternoons. Nor did these scruples serve to any other end then to encrease the Duke of Guise's love, who being resolv'd to accomplish his Marriage with Madam de Pons, without minding his former engagements, propos'd to her the spending some months in Guyenne, there to pur∣chase a little House where she might publish the Banes of Matrimony with more privacy, while he on the other side retir'd into his Coun∣ty of Eu, with the same design. Mademoiselle de Pons having accepted this proposal, he pro∣vided for her a magnificent Equipage, and accompani'd her as far as Estampes. Malicorne having notice which Roade she took, road privately before, and staid for her upon the Bank of the River Loire, where she took him into her Coach, and drove away for Blois. But crossing through that City, upon the Bridge they perceiv'd the Duke of Orleance,

who retir'd thither after the majority of the King. Mademoiselle de Pons, unwilling to be known, kept on her Mask, tho she were ob∣lig'd to have pull'd it off, out of respect to a Prince of the Blood. The Duke of Orle∣ance no less surpriz'd at her rudeness then the magnificence of her Equipage, sent a Gentle∣man after her, as far as Amboise, with orders to enquire the names of the persons that were in the Coach: which as it was no difficult thing to learn, so the Duke was fully inform'd the same Evening. Now the Duke had a se∣cret Grudge against the Duke of Guise, and was glad of the opportunity to let the whole Court understand that the Duke was the Cul∣ly to carry on his Mistresses Intreague. To that purpose he wrote to all his Friends what he had seen, and the news was soon spread abroad. Thereupon the Duke of Guise's kin∣dred consulted together, which way to make him sensible of his Mistresses infidelity, so that he might be fully convinc'd: but no body would undertake this affair, because they fear••d the transports of the Dukes fury, and knew it was a difficult thing to infuse into him the belief of any thing to the prejudice of a person, who as he was fully perswaded, was never guilty of any miscariage of that nature. However, the Duke of Cheuvreuse was pitch'd upon, as being the most proper person of any other, to act that part, by reason his advanc'd years would incline the Duke of Guise to listen to him with so much the

more patience; and he was willing to under∣take the business. The Duke of Guise had much ado at first to believe what Aged Cheu∣vreuse told him, however it fixt some kind of jealousie in his mind. Now Mademoiselle de Pons who was oblig'd to part with Malicorne upon her entrance into Guyenne, not being a∣ble to live absent from him, wrote to the Duke of Guise, and desir'd he would be pleas'd that she might return to Paris. The Duke, well understanding the cause of her impati∣ence, desir'd her on the other side to stay for some time longer with her Parents; but she, without any respect to his request, set for∣ward and away she came. When she was ar∣riv'e, the Duke of Guise brib'd one of her Chambermaids, and by her means got into his hands the little Box wherein she lockt up all her Lovers Billet douxes, and there he found a great number of Letters, which plainly made out a form'd Intreague; besides some other Letters from the Marshal de Aumont, and Marshal d' Albert, that spoke the Lan∣guage of fortunate Lovers; which drove him to his wits end.

Upon this, he broke off with Mademoiselle de Pons, and us d her very unworthily: for he su'd her at Common-Law, for a pair of Pendants valu'd at 50000 Crowns, and a rich suit of Tapestry which he had given her, but with very ill success. So that the loss of his Suite redoubld his indignation, and he re∣solv'd to assault her in her own house; of

which she having notice, sent for the Marshal d'Aumont, and Marshal d' Albert to protect her; the one being Captain of the Guards, the o∣ther Lieutenant of the King's Light Horse. Presently they hastn'd to her aid with a Body of Cavalry, which was the reason that the Duke of Guise made no farther attempt. Fain would Marshal d' Albert have made his Mar∣ket of this piece of service, and exacted com∣pliances from Mademoiselle de Pons, which she could not find in her heart to grant, because she doated altogether upon Malicorne. There∣upon that jealous Lover resolv'd to be reveng'd upon her for her ingratitude, and entring to that purpose, into a League with the Duke of Guise, they resolv'd to get an Order from the King to take her away by force, and send her into an Abby in the Pyreneans, of which a Kinswoman of the Marshals was Abbess. Madam de Pons, having notice of this Conspi∣racy, stole out of Paris in the habit of a Country market-woman, with only two of her waiting women, and went to Brussels, un∣der pretence of pursuing her Steward who ha∣ving robb'd her was fled the same way. At her departure, she left the fatal Box, wherein were all her Love Letters, with Mademoiselle de Tieure, who had been a Pensioner with her at Chassemidi, with orders to deliver it to no person living but her self, which was after∣wards the cause of her breaking off with Ma∣licorne, as we shall relate in due place. As for the Duke of Guise, he, being inform'd

of her departure, resolv'd to make a second voyage to Naples, and to that purpose em∣bark'd himself aboard the King's Fleet.

1654. Nor was the Duke the only Person that prov'd unfortunate in his Amours: for the Abbot Touquet, who was no less violently in love with the Dutchess of Chatillon, left nothing omitted to gain her affection, but all the complacency she had for him was only in order to coaxe him out of considerable presents. One day that he went to visit her, he found her upon the Bed in a sullen moody humour, nor could all that he could say to her put her out of it. Thereupon he ask'd her chief woman what he should do to divert her, and propounded several ways that were not accepted. But at length the cunning Ouistrel, who was acquainted with all her Mistresses knacks, put it into the Ab∣bots head to carry her to St. Germons Fair, and the Maid and the Mistress acted their parts so well together, that they got out of the incontinent Abbot a Service of Gilt Plate, valu'd at above Fifty Thousand Crowns. How∣ever she had other Admirers, that came off at a cheaper rate; among the rest Bouchu, Intendant in Burgundy, and Cambiac, Canon in the Cathedral of Albi, who was above fifty years of Age.

As for Mademoiselle de Pons, she made as great a Hurlyburly at the Court of Brusselles, as she had done in France. The Marquiss of

Bouteville, a Favourite of the Prince of Conde's, and the Marquiss of Fuenclara, a Captain un∣der Don John of Austria, both offer'd her their Services, and to the first she lent a favoura∣ble ear. The Prince himself also, paid her some sedulities, but finding more resistance then he expected, he quitted her Lodgings full of Choller and Indignation. Some days after, he understood that Bouteville had not been so unkindly repuls'd; which put him into such a Chafe, that he swore to him, he would never pardon him, if he did not quit her forever, offering on his part never to have any more to do with her. Moreover to let him see that he would be exact to his word, he obtain'd an order from Don John, by which Madam de Pons was commanded to leave Brussells in twenty four hours, and with∣in eight days to depart the King of Spains Territories. Howerver Bouteville paid her several private visits, after she had receiv'd this Order, and they agreed together, that she should make a shew of departing, and that after she had travell'd about four Lea∣gues from Brussells, she should return in the night time, to a Chamber which he would hire for her in a by corner of the Town. Nor was she worse then her word to Boute∣ville, and for fifteen days together they en∣joy••d each other in great tranquility. But by misfortune, Fuenclara having espi'd one of Madam de Depons's Chamber-maids looking out at the Window, he learnt by her that

her Mistress lay in that Lodging Incognito: for it was not the first time that that same damsel had tasted of his liberality. Mademoiselle de Pons, finding her self discover'd, would stay no longer at Brussells, for fear of being af∣fronted, but withdrew to the Hague; where she stay'd all the while that the Spaniards kept the field.

But after they had taken up their Winter Quarters, Bouteville sent for his Mistress to Ant∣werp, whither she was coming; but he sent her word by one of the Trumpeters of his Re∣ment, to miss Antwerp, and return to Brus∣sells, in regard the Prince of Conde was gone to give instructions about some thing to be done in the former City. Madam de Pons, no sooner receiv'd these tydings, but she set forward, and by an unlucky mischance, met the Prince of Conde in a narrow hollow way, in his return form visiting the Frontier Garri∣sons, who thought he knew her, but Lainett and the President Viole perswaded him to the contrary. After this happy escape, Madam de Pons arriv'd at Brussells, and alighted at the Appartment which Bouteville had hird and fur∣nish'd for her. Their first enterview was very tender and passionate, and at night they parted very well satisfi'd the one with the other. But when she was a bed, she was astonish'd to hear the door open, and an unknown person come into her Chamber: She ask'd him what he would have; but he went out again, with∣out answering so much as one word: present∣ly

she call'd her Maids, but they could give her no account of this adventure. But the next morning she was inform'd that the Chamber where she lodg'd, had been hird by an Italian Fencing Master, who had a pret∣ty woman to his Wife of whom he was jea∣ous: that being to ride a little way out of Town, he had carri'd the Key along with him, thinking to surprize his Wife at his return, and discover whither she had not some peculiar favourite besides himself. Thereupon, not knowing that his Wife was remov'd, he open'd the Door softly with his Key but was in so great amaze to see the Cham∣ber so richly furnish'd, and to hear a strange voice speak to him, that he made all the hast he could out again. Madam de Pons told Bouteville the Story, who came in a short time after, and the Fencing Masters jealousie prov'd the subject of their merriment for several days together.

At the beginning of Autumn Madam de Pons went to the Spa, where she saw the Rhine-Grave, and gain'd a new Conquest. He carri'd her home to his Palace, after she had been drinking the Waters; and there she contra∣cted a most intimate friendship with her ad∣mirers Wife, who was no less innocent then beautiful; and reported up and down that she was highly oblig'd to Mademoiselle de Pons, who had infus'd good humours into her Hus∣band: but there were some that were careful to disabuse her; so that Madam de Pons dread∣ing

the effects of that Ladies jealousie, return'd to the Hague, where she heard that Malecorne lay dangerously sick, which oblig'd her to re∣turn into France.

1656. She came to Charlevi••le, where the King s Lieutennant who commanded in the absence of the Duke of Noitmoutier, who was Governour, receiv'd her after a most obliging manner, and fell so passionately in Love with her, that he offer d to deliver up Charleville and Mount Olympus into the hands of the Spa∣niards, if by that means she could procure to her self a considerable Establishment at Brus∣sels; but she refus d his Offers. Malicorne, who had by this time recover'd his Health, came to see her Charleville, and after he had stay'd with her some few days, return'd to Paris, to prepare a Lodging for her, where she might remain Incognito, till she could reconcile her∣self to the Court. At his departure, she gave him a Letter directed to Mademoiselle Le Fevre, which he made use of, by adding some lines in a counterfieited hand to get out of her hands the little Box wherein were all the Letters from all the Lovers of his unfaithful Mistress, by which he understood her complacency for the Marshalls d' Aumont and d' Albret, during their Intreagues, and deeming her unworthy of a real Passion, he resolv'd to forsake her, utterly broke off with her and never saw her more.

As for the Duke of Guise, he Intreagu'd himself with Mademoiselle de Gorce, who was not of so illustrous a Family but who lov'd him more cordially and faithfully; so that af∣ter his death, she retir'd into the Convent of Carmelites where at length she took the Habit upon her.

1656. The same Year the Queen of Sweden arriv'd in France, the King sending the Duke of Guise to meet and receive her upon the Frontiers. Love had oblig'd that Princess to quit her Crown: for she was in Love with Count Magnus de la Gardia; and because he refus d to Raign with her, nor could find in his heart to love her, because he had devot∣ed all his Inclinations to the Sister of Charles, Prince Palatine, the Father of the present King, after she had made use of all her address to procure the consent of the States of the King∣dom, she resign'd her Scepter and the Throne of Sweden to the Prince Palatine upon condi∣tion that he should marry his Sister to the Count du la Gardia. This Queen was per∣fectly learned in all the Sciences, spoke the greatest part of the Languages of Europe, and with as much ease as she did the Swedish Tongue. Now in regard she had a great Reputation among all the European Nati∣ons, she strove to conceal the real Motive of her Abdication, and would have People be∣lieve that Religion was the pretence. She had been bred up in the Lutheran, and was desirous

to embrace the Roman-Catholick-Faith. To which purpose she came into France, and took into her Service none but Foreign Officers and Roman-Catholicks. Among the rest, she made the Marquiss de Monaldeschi, descended from a very mean Family in Italy, her Squire, and did him the Honour wholly to confide in him

After she had spent the remainder of the Year at Paris, she remov'd to Fontain Bleau, at the beginning of the next; where she dis∣cover'd that Monaldeschi, from whom she had had complacencies a little too familiar for a Princess to have with one of her Officers, had boasted of 'em to the disadvantage of her Re∣putation. She had also intercepted Letters which he wrote to his Friends in Italy; for which she first upbraided him with his Ingra∣titude; but seeing that he obstinately per∣sever'd in denying his Crime, she convicted him by the Testimony of witnesses that were not to be contradicted, and then deliver'd him to three of her Officers who killd him in the Stag••-Gallery, after she was withdrawn. Nor did the Marquiss dye like a Roman, but like a Modern Italian, that is to say, like a Coward, not making so much as one struggle to defend his Life, nor striving otherwise to save it, but by imploring the Queen's Par∣don, which he beg'd the Priests that confess'd him, and the Queen's Almoner, who came in∣to the Gallery at the time they were just pre∣paring for the fatal stroak, to sue for. The

King was highly offended at this act of Vio∣lence, and sent to the Queen of Sweden to let her understand, that she would have done more prudently to have addrest herself to him, and to have demanded Justice against the Marquiss, since she had no Priviledg to ex∣ercise any Soveraign Authority within his Dominions. The Queen thus reprimanded, made but little stay in France, but went to Rome, where she was kindly receiv d by Inno∣cent X. and took into her Service a French-man whose name was Alibert, the Son of one of the deceased Duke of Orleance's Super-inten∣dents. She continud at Rome till her death, and kept a very modish Court; the Roman Ladys that came to visit her, relaxing in respect to her Grandeur much of that severity which is usually practis'd in Italy.

Before I finish these Memoirs, I think my self oblig'd to give some account in this place of an Intreague wherein Love had a geeat share: which tho' it began before the Year 1657, and held on for a good while after, I thought it the best way to put it altogether. The two Persons that were most entrusted by Cardinal Mazarin, and who were employ d in his most secret Negotiations, were Gourville, who had been in the Service of the Duke of Rochefou∣caut, as we have already said, and Langlade, whom he had made Secretary of his Cabinet. These two Men for some time were jealous one of another, and did all they could to pre∣judice each other: but understanding that

neither of 'em was able to prejudice his Companion, they thought it convenient to re∣unite, and act by concert. To which purpose they covenanted together equally to share all the profits of their Employments at Court.

Langlade had been a long time in Love with Madam de St. Loup, the Widow of a Collonel of Horse, who had been in good request at Court. She had set her first Affections upon the Duke of Candale, whom she improv'd to that Politeness which afterwards he shew'd in Company: for he had but a very ill favour'd Air when he first appear'd at Court; but she took care to fashion him. These two re∣concil'd Enemies thought it convenient to make use of her in the discovery of such mat∣ters as it concern'd 'em to know: they gave her Money to play with the Queen Mother, and engag'd her to give 'em a faithful Ac∣count of what she heard that Princess say in reference to their Business. Now tho these two Men acted with sincerity enough after their Reconciliation, Langlade soon perceiv'd that Gourvilles fortune advanc'd swifter then his; which made him covet a more strict Union with him. He had a Sister, handsome enough, which he propos'd to Gourville for a Wife; and Gourville would have gladly accepted his Offer, had his Heart been at Liberty; but he had been privately along time in love with Madam de Parville, who had all the Qualities proper to engage the most scrupulous Lover,

so that he could not find in his Heart to quit her. On the other side it was his Interest by no means to disgust Langlade. So that he sought for some plausible pretence to avoid the Marriage which wss propos'd to him. The most assured and the most agreeable to his Intentions was privately to marry Madam de Parville, and he strove to gain her consent. But tho' she really lov'd him, she could not bring herself to that submission, out of a Fan∣tastick Humour common to Persons of her Sex. Nevertheless, as she was willing to help him out of the Labirinth he was in, she gave him leave to tell Langlade, they were marry d, and to make good this lye, she took a Journey into the Country, pretending she went to lye in; never minding the Prejudice she might do her Reputation. Langlade de∣ceiv'd by his Artifice, never thought any more of the Marriage of Gourville to his Sist∣ter; and some after he also broke off with Madam de Loup, whom he found guilty of much Infidelity. Before he came to Court, he had fallen in Love with a Damsel of Quali∣ty in his Country, call'd Mademoiselle de Cam∣pagnol, and tho' he durst not propose Matri∣mony to her, yet he exacted from her a pro∣mise never to marry any but himself; assu∣ring her that he would send her word, so soon as he should have rais'd his Fortune to that degree as to make her happy. Langlade entrusted Gour∣ville, with the assurance which he had given the Damsel, and declar'd with something of

Sorrow and Vexation mixt together, that he thought himself not rich enough to pretend to that Allyance, as not being worth in all above forty thousand Crowns. Gourville bid him not be troubled for that, and to encourage him to go and accomplish his marriage, promis'd to give him as much more. Upon that assurance away went Langlade, and marri'd Madam de Campagnol, who was overjoy'd to see him so faithful to his promise. After the Nuptial so∣lemnities were over, Langlade returns with his new Wife to Paris, where he found that Gourville had hir'd 'em a handsome house, and richly furnish'd it: The moveables he gave to Langlade, and a considerable quantity of Plate and Jewels to his Wife, besides the Forty thousand Crowns; and Madam de Par∣ville took great care to bring the young Pro∣vanssal into good company. Thus settl'd to∣gether, these two fortunate lovers liv'd a long time contented one with the other: but poor Gourville lost his Mistress by sickness in the full vigour of his amorous heat. That Lady had been so happy as to be violently be∣lov'd by several, more especially by ••refor∣taine, the Brother of Lemy, Chief Commis∣sary under M. le Tellier, Secretary of State; who refus'd a pension of sixteen thousand Livres which Mademoiselle de Monpensier offer'd him, if he would but have wholly devoted himself to her service. But he could not find in his heart to sacrifice to that Princess, the Minutes which he desir'd to spend with her that was the

sole Soveraigness of his heart; tho she had not the same affection for him, and corre∣sponded with him only upon the bare account of esteem and friendship.

1658. The kindness which the King had for Mazarins two Neices, for the Countess of Soissons and her Sister ought rather to be lookt upon as pastimes, then any real passion, and therefore I shall pass 'em by Made∣moiselle de Mancini was convinc'd of the truth of this, when she was marri'd to the Consta∣ble Colonna. Therefore said she to his Maje∣sty, You say you love me, you are King, yet you and I must part.

Toward the end of the year 1659, the Court remov'd to Lyon, under pretence of a marriage in Negotiation between the King and the Princess Margaret of Savoy. The Duke repair'd thither with all his Court, and great were the rejoycings for a month, but the Duke of Savoy having discover'd that while they were amusing him with hopes of that Puissant Alliance, Pimantel had concluded the King's marriage with the Infanta of Spain, he took post and return'd to Chamberi, where he solac'd himself in the Arms of Mademoi∣selle de Tercesson for the affront which he had receiv'd. But tho he had heap'd his Favours upon her, she was ne're the more Loyal to him for that: for the Marquiss of Fleuri had corrup∣ted the fruit of her first affections, and she gave him frequent meetings; which the Duke

suspecting, commanded one of his Lacqueys to attend her, with orders never to quit her. But the Marquiss to rid himself of that same Spy, caus'd him to be thrown into the Po; which confirm'd the Dukes suspitions, so that he caus'd the Marquiss of Fleuri to be arrested, and arraign'd for the death of the Lacquey; but all that he pai'd for his folly was a long imprisonment. After which, the Duke being reconcil'd to Mademoiselle de Ter∣cesson, marri'd her to the Marquiss of Cohourre, who enjoy d one of the principal Offices in his Household; but she shew'd him so many scurvy tricks, that he was forc'd to send her into France, where she met with several ad∣ventures that deserve a particular History. The King's Marriage with the Infanta was solemiz'd in the year 1660, and Cardinal Mazarin dy'd at the beginning of the year 1661.

Intreagues of the Court of France under the Raign of Lewis XIV, from the death of Cardi∣nal Mazarin, to this present time.

IF the King's affection were no more then his pastime before his marriage, 'twas not afterwards the same. He felt a real pas∣sion, and that passion took possession of him after an extraordinary manner. Madamoiselle de la Valiere, who was one of Madam's Maids of Honour, perceiv'd the Monarchs humour so agreeable to hers, that she fell desperately in love with him. She imparted the secret of her inclination to one of her intimate friends, and this friend not heing able long to keep the secret with which she was intrusted, there were so many persons at Court who were ac∣quainted with it, that they made a sport of it to the King.

Now, in regard there is nothing more na∣tural then for a man to know the persons that love and admire him, besides that the King was naturally amorous, 'twas not long before he admitted himself into la Valieres company. The first sight of her wrought no great ef∣fect,

for that there was nothing extraordina∣ry in her aspect, besides that she limpt a little: in a word she had nothing of handsome shape. However it cannot be deny'd, but that from the very moment that he saw her, he had something of an inclination for her, yet so limited as only to think of well bestowing her upon some Lord of the Court; but he could not resist his Stars. Three days after he went to visit Madam, who was somewhat indispos'd; but there stopping with la Valiere, he was so charm'd with her wit, that he could no longer curb the violent passion that forc'd him to fall in love with her. He stay'd but a little while with Madam; but he return'd the next day; and continu'd his visits for a month together, which made most people believe that he was fallen in love with Madam; and Ma∣dam, to say truth, flatter'd herself, as if the Conquest had been hers.

These visits plainly shew'd that the King was passionately in love, nevertheless, in regard he durst not discover his Passion, and for that it was contrary to the rules of decency, to be every day at Madams Apartment and never see her, he found a way to give it out all over the Court, that he was in love with her. He talk'd of her continually: he extold her Air and her Beauty to the Skies, and spoke it o∣penly, that since Mancini's departure, he had never spent a happy minute but in the com∣pany of Madam. Nevertheless, 'tis certain that all the Proofs he gave of his be∣ing

in love with that Princess were only his being continually with her, and his always whispering her in the ear before company, when at the same time he talk'd to her only of things indifferent, or of la Valiere, after which he fell into most dreadful dumps. Nor did Madam know what to think, not dream∣ing that the King could ever love a Damsel so far from beautiful, that she was the daily subject of the Duke of Roquelaure's jokes and Lampoons.

But as passionately in love as the King was, he was a long time before he durst make known his affection, nor did he do it but after an indirect manner. One day that he was walk∣ing in the Park of Versailles, he bemoan'd him∣self after a manner most extreamly tender, that he had not found himself well for some time. La Valiere, who was present, shew'd her self to be very much afflicted at it, and gave marks of an extraordinary tenderness. The King, who perceiv'd it, took her aside: He told her, that she was extremely obliging to be concern'd for his health; and at the same time declar'd to her that she was the ab∣solute Mistress of his Life, his Death and his Repose. La Valiere was at a stand, and for a while profoundly silent. The King upbraided her with insensiblity. But then, she made him an answer that altogether charm'd him. Their conversation lasted three hours, and was only interrupted by a showre of Rain. All the rest of the day, la Valiere mov'd with a pen∣sive air, and the King appear'd to be no less

restless in his thoughts. The next day they met again, and their discourse was still of the same nature. The same day the King sent her some Jewels of very great value, together with the following Billet.

D' ye desire my death? tell me sincerely, Ma∣dam. It behoves me to satisfie your longing. All the World most earnestly seeks my disturbance. 'Tis given out, that Madam is not cruel, and that fortune wishes me well; but all this while they neither say, that I love ye, nor that you re∣duce me to dispair. You bear me a kind of tender affection that overwhelmes me. For the love of God, change your manner of dealing with a Prince that dies for your sake. Either be altoge∣ther Compassionate, or altogether Cruel.

The King was not satisfi'd with this Billet wherein he had displai d all his tenderness, but the next day in the most magnificent ap∣parel that ever he put on in his life, he went to visit her at Madams Apartment; at what time the Maids of Honour that were with la Valiere, withdrew, out of respect. On the other side, the King resolving to know his destiny, and to push on his good fortune, ac∣costed her in a kind of trembling posture. In conclusion, he told her all that a tender and violent love could infuse into a person of wit inspir'd by an amorous passion. But then Mademoiselle de la Valiere, who was al∣ready in love with him, could no longer hold out against so strong a Battery, so that the King return'd happy. He went to visit her

the next day; this familiarity lasted for fif∣teen days. But an accident having discover'd the Intreague, the two Lovers no longer dis∣sembled; which extreamly perplext Madam, who really imagin'd that the King had had a kindness for her.

Her vexation therefore to see that the King had prefer d on of her Maids before her, caus'd her to speak of it to both the Queens: however she forbore to signifie any thing of her resentment. The Queen Mother, who was well acquainted with the King's humour in this particular, was terribly alarm'd, and resolv'd forthwith to speak of it to la Valiere; which she did with so much embitterment, that two days after, she put her self into a Convent.

The King, who knew nothing of this Ad∣venture, was extremely surpriz'd, when he heard of it. He presently got a Horseback and commanded a Coach to follow him. So soon as he came to the House where she was inclos'd, he demanded to see her. She ap∣pear d at the Grate, whereafter he had made her a thousand tender Vows and Protestati∣ons, he bid her immediately come forth. She excus'd her self at first, alledging the ill usage of both the Queens. To which the King re∣ply'd that he was King, and that he would fain see who they were that durst controule his Actions. At length therefore she came forth, and put her self into the King s Coach. Upon the Roade the King propos d to pro∣vide

a House and a Train for her. But that seeming too glorious, she avoided it for that time by only returning him submissive thanks. Thereupon the King carry'd her himself to Madam, and recommended her to her care, which redoubl'd the Princesses Despite. Be∣sides that the King continu'd his Visits with more assiduity then before. He openly sent her Presents the most magnificent that Sove∣raignty could purchase. All this while, the King continually urging her to take a House, she at last consented, and he gave her Biron-House, which he went himself to see furnish'd with the Richest movables that were in France. The Queen was almost at Deaths Door for Grief; but her Amends lay in her own hands; what could not be avoyded was to be endur'd. At the same time also the King fell sick at Versailles. La Valiere was more prudent then to visit him. However, his Indisposition not proving dangerous, at the same instant that Liberty was allow'd for Persons of Quality to pay him their Devoirs, she wrote to him the following Lines.

'Tis the General Report, that You are very ill. It may be, 'tis only to afflict me. 'Tis likewise said, that You are disturb'd at this last Rumour. In the midst of these Perplexities, I begg the Life of my Lover, and then, am ready to abandon the King∣dom, and all the World besides, Wherefore, if You love me, will you not permit me to pay You the Duty of a Visit? Adieu; send for me to morrow; that is to say, if my Disquiet will suffer me to live till then.

The King kiss'd the Billet a thousand times and order'd Madam de St., Agnan to bring Ma∣demoiselle la Valiere to him. His Orders were obey'd: he saw her with a thousand Trans∣ports of joy; and exceeded so far in his A∣morous Caresses with his Mistress, that he fell into a Relaps. But that Excess of his produc'd no bad effect, in regard that la Va∣liere, nine Months after, was brought to Bed of a Young Princess that prov'd a most en∣chanting Beauty.

The King's Love was so violent, that some time after he became jealous of his Mistress. He went to Visit her every day, but he only mus'd, or fell a reading all the while he was there, and sometimes left her without so much as hardly speaking to her. His jealousie became so prevelent, that he fell into a dread∣ful fit of Melancholy. However in regard that jealousie most commonly proceeds from an excess of Passion, he was taken, one Even∣ing, with so violnet a Pain in his Head, and such frequent Vomitings, that the Duke of St. Agnan, to whom the King had imparted his jealousie, thought it convenient to give la Valiere notice of it. He also put her in mind, that it became her to leave nothing omitted that might contribute to his Cure. La Valiere made answer, that the Kings Humour had ex∣tremely afflicted her, but that she could not condesend to begg Pardon for that she was never Guilty of: that in a word, she had rea∣son to complain of the King, but that His

Majesty had no reason to blame her. The Kings Indisposition redoubl d: but as violent as his Headake was, his Love was yet far more impetuous. He bid the Duke of St. Agnan go immediately to his Mistress, and acquaint her with his Malady; who presently return'd with the following Billet.

Did I but know the cause of your Pains, I would apply a Remedy, tho' it cost me my Life. But Good God! how much in vain it is to tell you what I say. 'Tis not I that can dispose of Your Ma∣jesties happy or unlucky Dayes.

The King was charm'd with the manner of his Mistresses writing, who presently after came to see him, together with Madam de Montauzier, who retir'd, out of respect, to the end of the Room with the Duke of St. Ag∣nan, while la Valiere sate upon the King's Bed. Where she carress'd him with a thousand ten∣der expressions, which so enchanted the King, that he beg'd her Pardon a thousand times. This their Conversation lasted five hours, and then they parted after they had reciprocally vow'd to Love each other Eternally.

The two Queens were at their witts end, to see the King's excessive Devotion to la Valiere, nor was their any thing which they left omitted to take him off from this extream Pas∣sion. But when they found that all their Efforts prov d fruitless, they thought there was no other way but for Father Anat, who was his Confessor, to interpose his Spiritual Authori∣ty. Which he did, and that too, after so se∣vere

a manner, that the King thank'd him for his good Counsel and his Service; but told him withal, that for the future he would have no other Confessor but his Curate. Thus was Poor Father Anat turn'd out of favour, to the great grief of his Brethren, whom he for∣got to consult upon this ticklish point.

Sometime after it came into the Kings head, that he would have both the Queens receive la Valiere into their favour. To which pur∣pose he spoke of it to Madam de Montauzier, who went at the same Instant by his Order, to the Young Queen's Chamber. Madam de Montauzier was very much perplexed about the complaint she had to deliver: however she ventur'd upon her message; but the Queen would by no means listen to her. Three days after she miscarry'd; which had like to have cost her her life. The King appear'd to be very much afflicted at it; and one day as he stood by the Queens Bed side, she desir'd him, in the presence of the Queen Mother and a Clergyman of Note, to bestow la Va∣liere in Marriage. To which the King made answer, that if la Valiere were so dispos'd, he would not be against it, and presently bethought himself of the Marquiss of Vardes for her Husband. But the Marquess who was in love with Madam de Soissons, and had no mind to any of the Kings Mistresses, laught at the Proposal. And afterwards the Mar∣quiss of Vardes and Count de Guiche, made such bold Lampoons upon the King's Amours, that they were both banisht the Court.

The King, who had a vehement affection for la Valiere, and understood how terribly she was discompos'd upon the Proposal of Marri∣age, went to see her three times a day. La Valiere however could not forbear upbraiding the King with the little love he had for her, since he could consent so easily to resign her into the Embraces of another. But the King gave her such potent Reasons for what he did, that his Mistriss was satisfied.

The Kings Assiduitie and Affection for la Valiere thus redoubling, they who approv'd not his Familiarity would needs proceed to violence. One night certain Persons in Vi∣zards got into her Chamber by the help of Ladders made of Cords. But she avoided the danger, I know not how, and the King ap∣pointed her Guards, and a Steward to tast all the Meat that was carryed to her Table. People discours'd according to their Fancies upon this Adventure; but 'tis an easie thing to understand from whence the Blow came, without being a Conjurer.

Nevertheless, la Valieres Enemies were not at all discourag'd: there was nothing which they did not attempt to deprive her of the Kings Affection, The Duke of Mazarin, who pretended to a world of devotion, demanded of him a Particular and private Audience, which was granted him. ••he Subject of their whole discourse was upon a Vision which the Duke had seen that the Kingdom should be quite ru∣in'd, if the King did not utterly abandon la

Valiere's Company: withal he told his Majesty at length that he had a Commission from God himself to give him that fair warning. And I, reply'd the King, advise ye from my self, to take a great care of your Brains, which are in a deplorable condition, and to restore like a Good Christian what your Uncle the Cardi∣nal has robb'd from the Kingdom. Upon which the Duke made him a low Bow, and withdrew full of shame and confusion.

Two or three Months after, the Queen would needs make her last Efforts. She talk'd to him her self of the scandal which he brought upon his Kingdom by a familiarity that was the sport of all the Courts of Christendom. To which the King reply'd, that Kings and Queens had always been the talk of the world, and that she knew by experience that she her self had not been spar'd. Which so netled the Queen to hear him touch upon that string, that she never after open'd her Lips to reprove him for his Amours. The next day la Va∣liere was brought to bed of a Prince. The King who was almost all alone with her when her Pains came upon her, was at a loss; and it may be said, that he was half her Midwife. Soon after he made her a Dutchess; and still the King continued his Visits to her; and one day he found her in a deep Melancholly. For as for her Beauty it was never very charming; so she was grown so lean after her last lying in, that it was a great mortification to her. Now in regard she perceiv'd that the King

was sensible of her Pensiveness, she confest to him, that she was afraid he had not the same Affection for her which formerly he had. For, added she, do you think that my Looking Glasses does not inform me that I have al∣most lost those allurements that render Mi∣stresses agreeable to their Lovers. Yet this I dare say, that you will never meet with other∣where, what you have found in me. I under∣stand ye, reply'd the King; But wherefore do you thus by your unjust suspicions affront a Prince that adores and ever will adore ye as long as he lives?

This Protestation charm'd la Valiere. Never∣theless, 'tis certain that the King began to miss those charms which he had found in her till then; tho' he was convinced that he lov'd her, when he consulted his own thoughts. In a word, he was never taken with her Beau∣ty, but with her Wit and her Behaviour, and somthing I know not what, which it is im∣possible for a Man to express.

About this time it was that Madam de Mon∣tespan appear'd at Court. And in regard she was a Person of a Transcending Beauty, she laid great designs to insnare the Kings heart. But as yet la Valiere possess'd it so intirely, that all her Plots prov'd ineffectual. So that finding the King so little inclin'd to entertain her, she cast her eyes upon Monsieur, and he comply'd, however he had another Mistress who disgusted Madam de Montespan.

It may be said, that the King had still some little inclination for la Valiere. But for all that, at the same time that Madam de Montes∣pan display'd all her temptations at Court to render him sensible of her Charms, he had some little kindness for the Princess of Mona∣co. That new Mistress was nothing cruel. However the King grew weary of her in a ve∣ry little time.

M. de Lausun, who at first had no small share in the Princess of Monaco, was so enrag'd at the Infidelity of his Mistress, that he payd all his vows to Madam de Montespan. Nor was he long before he obtain'd her last favours. Thus M. de Lausun's Happiness became the publick discourse of the Court, and the King reflecting upon the good fortune of his Fovourite, of whom all people gave out, that he was be∣lov'd by the most beautiful Woman of France, this made him look upon Madam de Montespan, as a Person that had all those perfections which really she had. And from that time forward it was, that he began to fall off from his affecti∣on to la Valiere; for she was still call'd by that name tho' she had the Title of Dutchess conferr'd upon her. Madam de Montespan, on the otherside, had too watchful an eye, not to perceive as soon that the King began to have a growing kindness for her, and from that very time she endeavour d to the utmost of her pow∣er to settle her self at Court. This she thought she might be able to do, •• once she could but wind her self into a strict amity with Madam

de la Valiere. Nor did she attempt it in vain, while Madam de la Valiere sought on her side to disburthen into the bosome of some sincere friend her sorrow for the extinguishing flames of her Lover. And the forwardness of Ma∣dam de Montespan so highly pleas'd la Valiere, that they became great friends, in outward appearance, especially on Madam de Montes∣pan's part, who had her aim, and hated at the bottom of her heart a Rivaless whose favour with the King she was labouring might and main to undermine. On the otherside, the King who began already to feel something of tenderness for Madam de Montespan, was over∣joyd to find her everyday with la Valiere. For which reason he was the more assiduous in his visits. But Madam de la Valiere soon per∣ceiv'd that 'twas not for her sake that the King so frequently came to see her, but that Madam de Montespan possess'd his Inclinations.

She complain'd to the King therefore after a most tender manner, and the King without evasion, and as obligingly as he could told her that Madam de Montespan was one of the most beautiful women that ever he saw, and that he verily believe••d she had a passion for him. To this the King added, that she had no reason to be surpris••d at it; that the change should be no prejudice to her; that he would always preserve a particuliar esteem for her; and that he thought she had no cause to be disatisfied. Madam de la Valiere melted into tears. But then, the King repeated what he had said.

He declar'd to her, that he desir'd she should live with Madam de Montespan as she had done: she promis'd to do it: and indeed, she liv'd with her Rivalless with that unanimity and concord as surpris d all the Court; for all the world knew that la Valiere was not the favou∣rite Mistress.

The King visited his new Mistriss every moment, and because the delicacy of his love could not endure that another should share of her favours with him, he resolv'd to remove Monsieur de Montespan from her, under pre∣tence of advancing him to greater employ∣ments. But Monsieur de Montespan refus'd eve∣ry thing, and it happen'd also, some days after that he extreamly abus'd his Wife. Madam de Montespan complain'd, upon which the King exil'd the incommodious Husband, who was fain to withdraw with his Children into his own Country near the Pyrenians.

He put himself into mourning as if his Wife had been dead: but for all that, the King sent him a considerable Sum of Money, which he stood in great need of, as being very much in debt.

As for Madam de la Valiere, she knew that the King had forsaken her, and therefore strove to comfort her self the best she could, one day to which purpose she sent the King the following Verses:

All things decay, there's nothing Permanent, Nor will The self same Object still An Amorous Heart content. Past Ages ne're knew Love to be Eternal, Nor will the Future find it always Vernal.

Such are the Secret Laws of Constancy, That few Her just Commands pursue. Not to be curb'd your Roving Wishes flye; To day what pleases, tomorrow you disgust; Such an unequal Humour who can trust?

Such spots as these, great King, your Vertues stain, You lov'd me once, but wavering like the wind, Your heart is to another now resign'd; While I in vain Lament the loss of many blissfull hours; How different are my Sentiments from yours!

Darling of Venus! to whose power I owe My past delight, and present woe, Why did you not on him bestow A Heart like mine, or such a one on me As others have, without sincerity.

The King was extreamly pleas'd with these Lines; and the Answer which he re∣turn'd to it some few Minutes after was, that Kings gave those Laws to Love, which Love gave to other men; and made her fresh protesta∣tions

of his eternal esteem. Now in regard she expected no other Answer, she resolv'd to put her self into a Convent, and made choice of the Carmelites Nunnery, where, some time after, she took upon her the Religious Ha∣bit.

Certain it is that Love and Despite had an equal share in this Retirement. Nevertheless she was willing that the world should attribute it to better motives. And indeed the follow∣ing Verses, that were soon after dispers'd abroad seem'd to be made in order to the same design.

Two Potent Kings to have me were at strife, One, King of Heaven, the other, King of France. Heavens King, Victorious, here to lead my life Has brought me: Blest exchange! most Happy Chance! For now, the Spouse of God am I, no more Then a Terrestrial Monarchs Miss before.

This Retirement of la Valiere gave equal satisfaction to the King, and M. de Montespan. For after all, the Presence of an Abandon'd Mistriss could not chuse but be a continual re∣proach of the Kings inconstancy and the Pro∣testations of perpetual love which he had made her. On the other side Madam de Montespan, who was not unacquainted with la Valieres Genius, was afraid lest she should recover the King's Affection.

The King had not been so long absent from his new Mistriss, but that she was big with Child, when la Valiere betook her self to the Carme∣lites. However she hid her great Belly as much as she could, and was privately brought to bed of a Son.

All this while Lausun strove to comfort him∣self up in the Embraces of another; and corres∣ponded only as a friend with Madam de Montes∣pan at least to outward appearance. But this same friendship, whether counterfeit or real, lasted not long. For Lausun and Madam de Mon∣tespan fell out, and quarrel'd to that degree, that the King was forc'd to interpose and make up the business, tho' Lausun had given out those speeches that were no less injurious to the Monarch of France, then to the preju∣dice of Montespan, and very little to his own Honour. For whatever favours a man re∣ceives from a woman are never to be boasted of, tho' it be his ill luck to break off with her.

Lausun had like to have been turn'd out of favour, but after this reconciliation, which oblig'd him to beg pardon of M. de Montespan, he was as great as ever with the King.

The Ambition of this Favourite was so in∣ordinate, that nothing could satisfie it. For tho' he were but a bare Gentleman; yet he as∣pir'd to a Marriage with Mademoiselle de Mont∣pensier. And indeed that Princess had a real kindness for him: insomuch that she protested to him, that if the King would consent to their

Marriage, she was ready to do her part. The first time that Lausun mention'd it to the King, he was extreamly surpriz'd: but by degrees he was wrought upon to listen to it; and so many Engines were set at work, that he pro∣mis'd not to oppose the Match; notwithstand∣ing the disproportion between a single Gen∣tleman and a Princess of the Blood.

Lausun was too hairbrain'd to use his good Fortune with moderation, and therefore committed a fault upon this occasion, which was never afterwards to be repair'd. For instead of Marrying Mademoiselle privately as he ought to have done, when the King had gi∣ven his consent, he spent a world of time in making preparations for his Nuptials, and in the mean while the King alter'd his mind, at the solicitation of all the Princes of the Royal Family, who throwing themselves at his feet, besought him to break off the Match, and re∣tract his promise.

Lausun believing that Madam de Montespan had playd him this trick, went to her house, and fell a railing at her like a Tinker; he ex∣claim'd against her in all places where he came, and so little spar'd the King himself, that the King caus'd him to be arrested, and sometime after sent him to Pignerol, where he was shut up in a Chamber with Iron Grates, without any Company but a few Books, and a Lackquey, who was told that if he would stay with his Master, he must resolve to be as close a Priso∣ner as himself.

Madam de Montespan found her self very ea∣sie, after she was thus deliver'd from Lausun, who was wont to teize her with stories very ungrateful to her Ears. The King who lov'd her as passionately as he had done la Valiere, had four Children by her, of all which she lay in privately.

Madam de la Valiere, who had a real love for the King, a love not grounded upon any score of Interest, never procur'd any advantage either for her Friends or her Relations. For out of an overstraind niceness, and to shew that she had a love for no man living but the King, she never su'd to him for any favour for any of her acquaintance. Therefore Marshal Grammont told her very well to the purpose one day when she complain'd to him, that every body had forsaken her since her Rival∣less came into credit, That while she had an op∣portunity to be merry her self, she should have taken care to make others merry, if she had had a mind that others should have pitty'd her, when she her self had an occasion to mourn. But Madam de Mon∣tespan took a quite different course. No con∣siderable Employment was conferr'd, but up∣on her solicitation, and by her intercession. She it was, to speak properly, that bestow'd every thing, even to the very Ecclesiastical Benefices. She advanc'd all her kindred to that degree of Grandeur, to which otherwise they could never have attain'd. In short, she procur'd for her Brother, who was no more then the Count of Vironne, the Dignities of

Duke and Peer and General of the Gallies, and the Battoon of Marshal of France. Which caus'd a Person of the First Quality in France to say, speaking of Marshal de la Fueiltade and her Bro∣ther, that one was Marshal of the Sword and the other Marshal of the Scabbard.

Never did Mistriss better understand to ma∣nage her Lovers humour then she did; and that too, when the King had not all that kindness for her that people imagin'd: for 'tis said that Madam de Lude, who was but a* 1.25 Canoness of Lor∣rain, frequently shar'd with her the favours of the French Monarch; which gave an occasion to the following Epigram.

Valiere was a Commoner, Of Noble Race fair Montespan, Du Lude had in the Church her Place, And all the Three to serve one Man. But would you know the main design Of the most great of Potentates? The thing's as clear as Noon-Sunshine, He would unite the Three Estates.

Certain it is that la Valiere was of no very Noble Extraction. Her Enemies were there∣fore wont to say, after the King had made her a Dutchess, that 'twas but a few months ago, that she was hardly a Gentlewoman: and Ma∣dam, who had been disapointed by the King upon her account, never call'd her other∣wise

then the little Cittizens Daughter of Tours.

However it were, the Canoness of Lorrain was the cause that Madam de Montespan spent many a night without closing her eyes. Yet this was not the Rivalless that caus'd the change of the Kings Affection.

At the same time that M. de Montespan thought her Affairs in the most setl'd conditi∣on, and that she lookt upon her self to be most solidly fix'd in the King s Affections, a young Damsel surprizingly Beautiful was preferr'd to serve the Mounsieur's Dutchess as one of her Maids of Honour. This was Mademoiselle de Fontange, who might be said to be a Master∣peice of Nature.

But before M. de Fontange appear'd, M. de Montespan's Enemies made use of all their Ar∣tifices to set the King against her. They told him a thousand stories to put him out of con∣ceit with her. But all their Artifices failing; they thought there was no other way but to give him a home stroke upon the Conscience∣side. The Confessor who succeeded Anat, had more wit then to undertake the Employmeut. He knew what it had cost his Predecessor, and the reproaches it had brought upon that silly Jesuit. However they found out a Preacher who had the courage one day in his Pulpit before the King to tell him the story of David and Bathsheba. 'Tis true, he seem'd to turn his matter another way; but all men easily perceiv'd what he aim d at. But after he came

out of his Pulpit, the King said the Preacher had made a very good Sermon, and away he went to visit Madam de Montespan.

This pious fraud not succeeding, it came into their heads to show him something of re∣ality which might infuse into him an Aversion and Contempt of his Mistriss. And the treach∣ery of a Serving Maid gave 'em a favourable opportunity. This Maid being brib'd deli∣ver'd into their hands a Billet of M. de Mon∣tespan's hand writing; which they counterfeit∣ed so well, that by adding one single word, there was a necessity for the King to fall into the snare, and to acknowledge himself be∣trayd. The Billet was given to the King as if it had been found by accident. He read it; nor was it possible for him to distinguish the difference of the Character. That which was added, though spoken after an Ambiguous manner, presently gall'd him, and put him in∣to such a rage, that he resolv'd forthwith to find out the Mystery, Away he flung to Ma∣dam de Montespan, whom he found read∣ing a Courtly Novel. What! Madam, said the King with a kind ofscornful Air, have you not left of these trifles yet? Tis true, re∣plyed Madam de Montespan, that there is no∣thing of Solidity in these sort of books, and I must acknowledge that they are no more then the Dreams and Visions of others that create in us either joy or sadness. Nevertheless I am so weak sometimes as to suffer my self to be seduc'd, and I could not read the Infide∣lity

of a Mistriss mention'd in this little Sto∣ry without paying some tears to the mis∣fortune of her Lover. I wonder, reply'd the King, that a thing so customary to your Sex, should raise your passion to that degree. He went on with his discourse in the same tune, and carry'd it on so far, that Madam de Mon∣tespan began to suspect some mystery. Alas! Sir, said she, such a Prince, so rarely endow'd as your self, have no reason to fear any such thing, had he to do with the most fickle and inconstant of Women. In a word, they who possess a Merit so Illustrious as Yours, are a∣bove these suspicions. I so flatter'd my self, hitherto, reply'd the King; but Kings are deceiv'd as well as other men. This Conver∣sation not a little troubl'd M. Montespan, who was altogether innocent of what the King believ'd her Guilty of, and therefore knowing herself to be free from all reproach, she an∣swer'd only with tenderness and tears. Which so mollifi'd the King, that without seeking any farther for the satisfaction which he desir'd, he withdrew, after he had pri∣vately conveigh'd the Billet into Madam de Montespan's Pocket.

The King had no sooner left her, but M. de Montespan pulling out her Handkerchief to wipe her Eyes, saw the fatal cause of her mis∣fortune fall at her feet. She took it up, o∣pen'd it, read it, and soon perceiv d the soul play of her Enemies. Now it was of that Importance for her to prevent as soon

as might be the Kings first Impressions from sinking too deep into his mind, that she went to him immediately, and having made it out to him that something had been added, the King was convinc'd, and discours'd her with a thousand obliging tendernesses.

It never could be discover'd who the Au∣thors of this Artifice were. The Billet was so dextrously conveigh'd into the Kings hands, that 'twas impossible to have other then weak suspicions. Some thought this Blow to have been given by Madam la Valiere, who in the midst of the Austerities of her Cloyster, could not be insensible of her disgrace. Others threw this Intreague upon one of the Queens Ladies of Honour; and others upon some of Lausun's friends; and the latter perhaps were not mistaken.

One would have thought that after such a satisfaction as this, the King should not have chang'd his Affection so soon. But he no sooner beheld Madam de Fontange, but his heart was smitten, and he began to make her mag∣nificent Presents. Madam de Montespan was alarum'd at it. She flatter'd herself however sometimes that the King would not forsake her. But at length she saw so much coolness in him, that she no longer doubted but that he was altogether in love with Fontange: nor was she deceiv'd.

The King who was smitten with her Charms from the very first moment that he saw her, commanded the Prince of Marsillac to tell her

in his name that he had a Passion for her, and that he should be the most happy Monarch in the world if she corresponded with his Ten∣derness. Nor did the Prince of Marsillac meet with any great trouble in perswading her to grant what ever the King demanded, for that she was brought to the Court with no o∣ther design but to please him. She presently therefore made answer to the Prince of Mar∣sillac, that he had those Powerful Attractives, that she must be altogether Insensible, not to be charm'd with the Passion of the greatest Monarch in the World. However, that she could not rely upon what he had said to her, so long as Madam de Montespan was still be∣lov'd; but if she could assure her self that the King had no farther thoughts of his Old Mistriss, she might then build upon his Affection.

The Prince of Marsillac to make a quick end of the business, and to pride himself in the success of his Embassy, told Madam de Fontage whatever could be said upon the like occasion; that the King had then no kindness for Madam de Montespan, but what was only habitual, and he swore and vow'd that M. de Montespan was utterly obliterated out of the Kings heart, and alleadg'd so many reasons for it, that Mademoiselle de Fontange acknowledg'd the Adorations which she had always payd the King in her heart, nor could she con∣ceal the transports of her joy.

Madam de Montespan, who soon after had notice of all that had past, was at her wits end. She left nothing omitted to regain the the Kings Affection. And the Marquess of Lonvois who was one of her sincerest friends, advis'd her to watch an opportunity to speak with the King in private. She did so, she sigh'd, she sobb'd, complain'd, and wept a shower of Tears. But all could not force from the King any more then these words, That he would visit her as he was wont to do, but that a King ought to have his own Liberty. In a word, he return'd to her as he was wont to do, but always wholly taken up, with his new Passion.

The first time the King saw Mademoiselle de Fontange was at the Tuilleries. At what time he had a long Discourse with her, wherein he acquainted her after a most tender manner with his love, and told her, it should be her fault, if in loving him, she did not meet with all the sweets of a most sincere Corres∣pondence. La Fontange answer'd with an Air so full of discomposure, that the trouble of her mind furnish'd her with new Charms. And the King perceiv'd from that very mo∣ment that her Heart was not made of Ada∣mant.

In a word, when they parly'd, he told her, that he saw well her shamefastness and mode∣sty had hindred him from delivering to her his whole mind. After which he desir d her to write to him; adding withall, that he

flatter'd himself with having one of her Let∣ters within a few hours, wherein she would express the sentiments she had for him with more freedom, then perhaps his Presence would permit her to do.

Mademoiselle de Fontange, who had accompa∣ni'd to the Tuilleries a Lady of the Highest Quality in whom she very much confided, and who had left her with the King, walked a while with that Lady, transported with joy and satisfaction, because she well perceiv'd that, the King had a real love for her. After that they took Coach together, and all their discourse was about what the King had said, most obliging, to her. And in regard she told the Lady that the King had desir'd her to write the same day, the Lady advis'd her not to fail; for that she ran a hazard of losing her good Fortune if she did not yield him a blind obedience; and that it was high time for her to declare herself. And therefore, added she, write immediately such a Letter as Love shall dictate to ye. Mad. de Fon∣tage follow'd her advice; so that she was no sooner got home, but she writ to the King as follows.

Tho' the vast difference there is between your self and me, ought to oblige me to look upon your Ma∣jesties Addresses as a peice of Gallantry rather then a real Declaration of your Affection; nevertheless, if it be true that real lovers, when they have once beheld each other, know the most secret thoughts of their own hearts, 'twould be a vanity for me any

longer to conceal from you, the sentiments which I have discover'd in yours. I must acknowlege sin∣cerely, Sir, that the Merit alone of your Person had already dispos'd of me, before your Majesty made known to we your inclinations. Pardon me howe∣ver, if I have strove against this Passion from the first minute that I perceiv'd it growing in me. I did so, but it was not out of any reluctancy that I had to cherish what appear'd to me so aimable, only I was afraid, Sir, to displease ye. Judge of my In∣clination by so ingenious a Confession of my weak∣ness.

It would be a difficult thing to express the Raptures the King was in, after he had read this Letter. He could not forbear reading it over and over, and repeating the last words. He was so well satisfi'd with his new Con∣quest, that some time after, he conferr'd the Office of Grand Huntsman of France upon Marsillac. Which drew upon him the following Lampoon.

On Favour's Ocean with full Sailes Marsilliac Swimms: for tho' he fails In what belongs to Horn and Hound, Yet cause he had the happy chance. To hamper kindly in his Hay The King his Masters Royal Prey, The King, for service so renown'd, Grand Huntsman made him of all France.

The sme day that Mademoiselle de Fon∣tange wrote to the King, the Monarch went to see her privately, and after that was very assiduous in his visits to her. Two days after, he appointed a Hunting Match where were all the Ladies of Distinction that belong'd to the Court, and among the rest Mademoiselle de Fontange made her appearance in more then or∣dinary Splendor. The King never left her, and after he had given her the pleasure of see∣ing the Hunted Deer run just before her, they went aside into the thickest part of the Wood where they stay'd for some time: and from that day forward it was that M. de Fontange still found her self somewhat indispos'd. She had on an Embroider'd Justtaucore of very great value, which the King had presented her, and wore a little flat Shepherdesses Hat co∣ver'd with a Carnation and white Plume of Feathers, which wrought a wonderful effect. 'Twas a most lovely day, but toward the evening, when the King was returning home, there was a gentle Breeze, which forc'd M. de Fontange to leave off her Hatt. After which she ty'd her Head Attire with a Ribband, the Knots of which hung down a little upon her Forehead; and that same dress so highly pleas'd the King, that he desir••d her not to dress her self otherwise all that evening. The next day, all the Ladies appear••d with their Heads drest after the same manner. And this was the Original of those large Towers that Wo∣men still wear: a Fashion that deriv d it self

from the Court of France over all the Courts of Europe.

The next day after the Hunting March, Ma∣dam de Fontange was troubled with extraordi∣nary pains in her head and faintings of her heart, so violent and sharp that she could not forbear complaining: nor would the King stil from her, overwhelmed with grief to see her in that condition. At what time all of a suddain casting her Eyes upon the King, with a tender and languishing Utterance, Dear Prince, said she, was there a necessity that such great Pains should so speedily follow such great Pleasures? But 'tis no matter, added she immediately, I love the cause of 'em, and shall do, while I live. The Passionate manner of her delivering these words rais'd the Kings Pity and his Love withall to that degree, that he Embrac'd her with those Transports that he never had shown for any of his other Mi∣stresses. He vow'd to her that he never lov'd any one before so dearly as he lov'd her, and that he would love her eternally.

After the King had declar'd himself for his new Mistress, he so little observed any Measures, that the whole Court knew within two Hours after, all that had passed upon this occasion, Madam who had as great an a∣version for Madam Fontange as she had for La Valiere, and who was no less vext to the

heart and the Soul for having supply'd the King with two Mistresses, that had quite baulk'd her of the King's Affection, made it the subject of a thousand Nipping Taunts and Jokes. Nor could Madam de Montespan for∣bear from doing very near the same thing. So that one Evening the King found the following Verses under his Toilete.

Trouble not thus, Great Pince, your Brains nor Breast, A Hero like your self too much of weakness shews, Thus to disturb your rest, And labour under Female throws To see Fontange in a Fainting-Fitt; For Fainting-Fitts ne'r kill'd a Mistress yet. How Kings themselves the loss of Reason prove, When once submitted to the Laws of Love! Then curb yo•• Sighs, and Lamentations cease, For this is not the only time, in short, That your Fontange's Heart Has been tourmoil'd with Fainting-Fitts like these.

The King, who had been told some days before, that Madam had asserted in Compa∣ny, that M. de Fontange had been guilty of Intreagues in the Province from whence she came, made no question but the Verses pro∣ceeded from her hand, on of some of her Friends. Upon which he declar'd that the affront touch'd him so much the more to the

quick because the Attack was made upon his Mistresses Honour, the most sensible part of a woman. On the otherside M. de Fon∣tange desir'd Justice to be done her for the Calumny that was thrown upon her; and presently let fall a deluge of Tears. But the King told her the best Justice he could do her was to despise the Lampoons and Satyrs of her Enemies, and she agreed and Satyrs that 'twas the best course they could take; wherein she acted very prudently.

In the mean time the King refus'd no favour that Mademoiselle de Fontange desir'd of him. She could but speak and have, and more then that, she obtain'd what he refus'd to several Princes. He grunted Pen∣sions to the greatest part of her friends, and conferr'd upon one of her Sisters the Abby of Chelle, very considerable for the yearly Revenue. And that new Abbess was Con∣scecrated with that Pomp and Magnificence, as it would be a difficult matter to describe. The Ceremony was honour'd by a great number of Prelates, almost all the Court was present, and M. de Fontange appear'd with so much splendor, that she drew up∣on her the Eyes of all the Spectators as much as the Abbess who was consecra∣ted.

The faintings of the Heart which Madam de Fontange complain'd of, continu'd till she de∣clar'd herself to be big with Child; which o∣blig'd the King to confer upon her the Title of Dutchess, as he had done upon la Valiere, and to provide her a House; for the maintenance of which he allow'd her a hun∣dred thousand Crowns a Month. But in re∣gard she was extreamly liberal, the Duke of Nouailles was made choice of to regulate her Expences, to the end the Sum might hold out. And then, they began to call her Madam.

So soon as Madam de Montespan was fully convinc'd that she was to make room for her Rivaless, she began to think of retiring, and gave it out openly. 'Twas thought at first, that she would have encreased the number of the Nunns at Fonterault, because she had made some journey's thither, but she never had any thoughts of confining her self to such a Me∣lancholy Life. She withdrew indeed, but was so far from removing from the Court as her Predecessor had done, that she tarri'd there, paid her Visits as she was wont to do, and or∣der d her Affairs after such a manner, that she had always some little share in the Cabi∣net Intreagues. This Retirement was better understood then Madam de la Valieres, but she had reason without doubt for what she did. However it were, the King forbore not his Visits to Montespan but went to see

her sometimes, which made her give out that her Credit with the King was still greater then ever it was. That the King's Love for Fontange was but a Transitory unsteady Affect∣tion from which he would recall himself as soon as he did from that which he had for Madam de Lude, which lasted but for a few days; lastly that she had reason to believe that her Lover would return to her again, more enamour'd then ever he had been: her Favourites also and Friends at Court endeavour'd to give a Reputation to these Reports. But the more cleare-sighted finding that the King abandon'd himself wholly to Madam de Fontange, began to seek her favour, who still procur'd great Pre∣ferments and advantages to those for whom she had a kindness.

Madam de Montespan who saw that no body could be ignorant any longer of the Kings ex∣tream Affection for his new Mistress, became so highly exasperated, that she began to rail against it openly; which very much offended the King.

Some time after Maden••oiselle de Fontange was brought to bed; but her Lying-in prov'd mortal to her. She fell into such a Consumption that they who knew her before, hardly knew her when they saw her; which was still attended with such a Flux of Blood, that every body gave her over for lost. All people believ'd her to have been Poyson'd, and all people accus'd

Montespan. So far were all the Remedy's from doing her good, that her languishment conti∣nu'd every day. The King Visited her duly, and manifested after a most tender manner the ex∣cess of his Grief, to see her reduc'd to that condition. But in regard she knew there was no cure for her Distemper, she besought the King that she might retire from the Court, adding, with tears in her Eyes, that she had no∣thing more to do in this world but to prepare herself for Death.

The King who was sensibly touch'd and dis∣order'd by his being present with her in her affliction, granted her Request. Thereupon she retir'd into a Convent in St. James's Sub∣burbs, where the Duke of Fueillade went to Visit her from the King two or three times a Week. But in a little time after she dyd, leaving after her death more visible marks of her being Poyson'd, then were to be discover'd during her sickness, by the report of the Phy∣s••tians.

The King's Grief was so extream, that he could not refrain from shewing it; and cer∣tain it is, that he had taken his revenge upon Madam de Montespan after a more then ordi∣nary manner, had he not had prevailing Rea∣sons to dissemble his Resentment. For he was fully convinc'd that Madam de Fontange had been sacrific'd to the Jealousie and despair of that Ambitious Woman, who had flatter'd herself that she should still enjoy the King's

Affection. In the mean time to let the world see that he was really sorry for the loss of Fontange, and that the Esteem and Tenderness he had for her was not extinguish'd by her Death, he gave a rich Abby to one of her Bro∣thers, marry'd one of her Sisters to great ad∣vantage, and did an infinite number of other things in favour of her Family; which did not a little mortifie Madam de Montespan, who imagin'd, that she being deliver'd from her Rivaless, the King might take a new Fan∣cy to her. But she deceiv'd herself. The King never went to see her but upon a Politick Accompt: and resolv'd for the future to re∣nounce all manner of Amorous Intreagues.

A little time after Madam Fontange's death, Mademoiselle de Monpens••••r, who was still in love with the Court of Lansan, threw herself at the King••s feet, and obtain'd her Lover's Liberty after ten Years Imprisonment. 'Twould be a hard matter to express the joy of that Princess, when the understood from the King's own Mouth, that Lansan was at Li∣berty, nor the Extasies she was in when he ar∣riv'd at Paris. However he did not lodge in her House, tho' he were permitted to go when he pleas'd to see her: So that he was wich her from Morning till Night. This Fa∣miliarity continu'd for some Month's; and Madam de Montpensier was so charm'd with him, that she settl'd upon him two considerable Lordships, with the King's consent. Nor could

Lausun be more assiduous then he was in wait∣ing upon her. But in regard he lov'd that Princess in hopes of espousing her, when he found it impossible for him to marry her, be∣cause the King had positively declar'd against it, he took a distast against his Mistress, and he took himself to a Lady that wanted neither Youth nor Beauty, and whom he found to be nothing flinty hearted, Mademoiselle de Montpensier was not long before she found that Lausun was unfaithful to her. Presently therefore she set Spies upon him in the Coun∣try▪ and was soon inform'd that he frequently Visited a Young Widow with whom several Persons of Quality in Paris were deeply in Love. She complain'd to him of his Inside∣lity: nor did Lausun altogether disown it: and whereas Mademoiselle upbraided him that tho' a Princess she had debas'd herself to a willingness to make him her Husband, he vow'd to her, after he had begg'd her a thousand Pardons, that he would never see the Lady more; and he was as good as his word••: for, for five or six Weeks he was her most diligent Servant. But one Evening, as he was walk∣ing alone in one of the Allies of Luxemb••••gh Garden, while Mademoiselle was in another, talking about some affaires with a Minister, a Lacquiey without a Livery deliver'd him a Billet, wherein he was desir'd in the name of a Lady of great Quality to meet her the next day at eleven a Clock in such a Church.

Monsieur de Lausun fail'd not to meet, and the Lacquey, who waited for him at the Church door, carry'd him to a House that was not un∣known to him. Presently he understood the Mi∣stery. The Lady receiv'd him blushing, but immediatly recovering herself, she told him, that being endow d with such extraor∣dinary Qualities, he ought no to wonder that others made the first advances, and that she should esteem her self happy if she had not been so forward in vain. The Lady had so much wit and so many Charms, that M. de Lausun, who never dreamt of such good Fortune, stood like one in a Trance. But be∣ing recover'd from his surprize, he spoke as the Lady desir'd, and swore a thousand Oaths that he had been enchanted with her Person above six Weeks together, but that the profound respect he had for all Persons of her Sex, and for those especially that held that Rank in the world as she did, had kept him from declaring his Passion. Some days after Lausun gave the Lady a Visit. But Mademoiselle, who was become extreamly jealous and watch'd him where ever he 〈◊〉〈◊〉 had presently discover'd this new Intreague: which he must renounce, or else there was no longer Peace with Her.

It may be said that Lausun was got clear of one dreadful Prison to be confin'd to a∣nother mo less loathsome for in short he had no longer any kindness for Mademoiselle, but

there was a necessity for him to live in tor∣ment upon more then one account. He was at his wits end with his unhappy rate. How∣ever he was resolv'd to torment himself, and to ingage himself no more in Amorous In∣treagues.

This Resolution lasted for some Weeks, and Mademoiselle was proud of her self, that she had fix'd him at length. Never had he appear'd so full of Passion, nor so affectionate to her. The Princess never stept a step, but Lausun follow'd her. He was with her at her uprising, and he never parted from her till Midnight; and he shew'd her so many testi∣monies of his tenderness, that a Person more quick fighthed then Mademoiselle de Montpensier might have been perhaps deceiv'd. How∣ever he had an utter Avesion against her, and whatever Resolution he had taken to re∣sist the Charmes of any new Inclination, he could not forbear falling in love with a Young Dutchess next to whom he sat in a Box at the Representation of an Opera. He told her without any more ado that he lov'd her. The Dutchess hearken'd to him and they be∣came the most intimate friends in the World. But he was soon cross'd in his Amours by the Jealousie and Reproaches of Mademoiselle: so that he found himself constrain'd to quit his Conquest, which brought upon him a Terti∣an Ague that held him two Months before he could be cur'd. He had recourse to an En∣glish

Physitian, and three times taking the Quinquina rid him of his troublesome Com∣panion. But the same remedy could not cure him of his disgust of Mademoiselle.

The Jealousie of that Princess made such a noise, that all the whole Court knew the Count of Lausun had had three or four Mist∣resses within the space of five or six Months. Insomuch that the King could not forbear laughing, and saying at the same time, that he could not but pitty his Kinswoman, whom he had told a thousand times what would befall her; Lausan being a meer Shatter braines.

Mademoiselles Enemies rais'd a thousand sto∣ries about him, which render'd her ridiculous▪ and Lausun, for his part became the subject of all the Town-Raillery. But that which was the greatest vexation to him was this, that it got him so ill a repute among the Lady's, that there was hardly a Chambermaid would ad∣mit his Caresses for fear of his Mademoiselle. The Young Widow that he fell in Love with first of all, and who was almost distract∣ed because the Count had forsaken her, sell upon him one Evening before a great deal of Company, and play'd upon him so cruelly for his Inconstancy, and about his Ague, the marks of which a Wit as he was, he had no∣thing to say for himself. Thereupon he re∣tir'd so ill satisfy'd with himself that he had return'd no better answers to the Lady's

Raillery, that he went and vented all his Spleen upon Mademoiselle, where he commit∣ted two or three absurd actions, and his A∣gue took him again the same Night. There∣upon he return'd to his Quinquina; but his Ague being fix'd, his touchey humour became Insupportable.

But as Mademoiselle de Montpensier had brought upon herself so many Mortifications, so neither was Madam de Montespan exempt∣ed from 'em. For the death of her Rivaless had no way render d her condition more easie. 'Tis true the King made her frequent Visits; but they were cold, and to little or no pur∣pose; and at length she perceiv'd that the King took more delight in the Company of Madam de Maintenon, who was Governess to his Children, then in Hers. In a word M. de Maintenon was the Woman in whom the King put all his confidence. So that Madam de Montespan was again at her wits-end. For in regard it was she who had made the o∣ther what she was, she could not endure that the Work or her own hands should prove serviceable to her destruction.

The whole Court was no less surpriz'd then Madam de Montespan to see the King so assiduous to a Woman of whom a thousand stories had been told, and who was known by most People to have been no better then Scarron's Widow. But the King loves Wit where ever he meets with it; and every body

knows Madam de Maintenon to be infinitely Witty above the common rate of her Sex, and that there is no Intreague so difficult which she is not able to carry on.

The first time that Madam de Montespan saw her, she soon perceiv'd what she was capable of: so that without any hesitation, she retain'd her in her Service; and that Crafty Woman understood so well how to insinuate herself into her good liking, that she entrusted her with all her Secrets▪ she saw all the Letters that Madam de Montespan wrote to the King, and all those which the King wrote to her. And when Madam de Montespan was at a loss, how to compose a Letter, Madam de Maintenon did it for her, and had incomparable success. One day she wrote one for the Countess, with which the King was enchanted. The King knew well that it was above his Mistresses Genius, and and therefore would needs know who wrote it. Should I tell yee reply'd Madam de Montes∣pan, you would hardly believe it. But not to hold ye any longer in suspence, I do pro∣test to ye Sir, that it was Mistress Scarron who dictated to me. I had such a cruel pain in my Head that day, and your pleasure was so absolute that I should return you an answer, that I was forc'd to have recourse to her Assistance. From that very day the King had a great desire to see her, and he was so well satisfy'd with her Conversation, that

he told her a thousand pretty things the most obliging in the World. At the same time he recommended her to Madam de Montespan to take particular notice of her, and took such particular cognizance of her himself, that he purchas'd for her the Signiory of Maintenon, which acquir'd her the Title of Marchioness: and a Herald had order to fetch her descent from Jone d' Albret Queen of Navarr, who after the death of her Husband, marry'd privately with one of her Gentlemen, who pretended to be the Father of Madam d' Au∣bigny, Madam de Maintenon's Grandfather.

However it were, for many People ex∣claim'd against this Pedygree, Madam de Maintenon found herself of a suddain to be both the King's Confident and Favourite, and the only Consolation of that Monarch after the death of Madam de Fontange.

Madam de Montespan did all she could to put the King out of conceit with her; but hi∣therto nothing has succeeded. The King has such a value for her, that he does not dis∣dain to consult her sometimes in the most Ticklish Affairs of State: and as things now stand, the King would rather quarrel with the whole Royal Family then with her. Nevertheless, she has often undergone most Terrible Mortifications. But still the King's favour has upheld her in the midst of these petty Anguishes of her Mind, to which the Joys of great People and Favourites are ge∣nerally

subject. She has had several Letters deliver'd to her that have ript up all the Oc∣currences of her Life. Among the rest that which follows was one that was disper'd up and down by her Enemies.

Tis the wonder of the World, Madam not∣withstanding you are mounted to so high a Pinacle of Favour, that you should so little know your self. We may very well apply to you the Tale of that vile Aminal, which carrying the Relicques of a Deity, thought it had been himself to whom the People pai their Adoration, and nor the Idol with which he was laden. A little consideration of what you were would do you a great deal of good. 'Tis requisite to put you in mind of it; for you look as if you had quite and clean forgot it. All the World knows Madam, that when Monsieur Scarron talk'd of Marriage all his friends laugh'd at him. They told him that for such a Decrepit Creature as he was, to Marry, was to list himself in the Family of Acteon, and that because they should not reproach him with any thing of that nature, he made choice of a cracke Vessel. By good Fortune Scarron lit upon your self; he marry'd ye Publickly, which made him say very wittily, that they could not lay it in his dish, that his weakness was the cause of his Wives Wanton∣ness; and no doubt but he was in the Right. As he was a man of Wit and Sence, be left yee to your own Conduct; and all the World knows how you behav'd yourself. Should the Good Man return from the other world, how heartily would

he laugh to behold your Metamorphosis. And as he was a Man of a good humour, I make no question but he would bring such an Action against the King, as would puzzle the Parliament, who could not but do him Justice, and sentence you to quit Royal Honours, and reassume your old Titles of Mistress and Gooddy such an one. Adieu, Beldam; take my advice and remember what you were, I give you wholsome Counsell.

Madam de Maintenon was not much puzzled to know from whence the Letter came, so sfoon as she had read it. She burnt it in cold Blood, as she did all the rest of the same nature which she receiv'd, without making the least complaint to the King: and for o∣thers that were so full of grating particulars, she shew d 'em to her Monarch to make him sport; and those sort of Confidences, tho' in∣deed they were but Trifles, never fail d of success. In a word Madam de Maintenon has manag'd her business so well, that she tri∣umphs over all those that envy'd her. The King has a friendship, a value, an esteem for her, and should the Monarch dye before her, she has an apartment in St. Lewise's House at St. Cyr, where she is to reside as long as she lives, and to be main∣tain d, with all the Persons that belong to her Traine, by the Revenues belonging to the Foundation of that House; and to enjoy all the Honours due to a Foundress. Care is al∣so taken to canonize her before hand; for

notwithstanding all the Inventions of Oblo∣quy, she has met with Panegyrists who have made it out, that tho' Scarron, who marry'd her at Sixteen Years of Age, made choice of her to solace and refresh his Eye∣sight, and to discourse with her when he had no other Company, rather then for any Carnal Society, yet the indisposition of her Husband was no injury to her Virtue. They have own'd, that those Persons who fell in Love with her, were not the Richest, or of the best Quality in the Kingdom, yet that she has merited a universal Esteem among all Men, for the prudence of her Conduct, and that she ought to have this Justice done her, that she observ'd a fair Conjugal Amity without practising the Principal Actions that belong to it.

As for Madam de la Valiere and Madam de Montespan, they have as much reason to be satisfy'd as Madam de Maintenon. It may be said, that when they were Favourites, the King idoliz'd 'em; and tho' he grew weary of 'em at length, he never forgot that they had been his Mistresses. Both the one and the other have been always lookt upon with distinction, and the Children which the King had by 'em have been advanc'd to Dignities and Matches the most Illustrous in the King∣dom. The Count of Vermandoise, the Son of la Valiere was made High Admiral o•• France; and Mademoise••••e de Blois his Sister was marry'd to the Prince of Conti, last de∣ceas'd

The Prince of Conde who was re∣tir'd to Chantilli at that time, and who by that means approv'd not that match in his heart, was constrain'd to undergo the trouble and vexation to see the Title of High and Potent Lord, which was always allowed him, left out in the Contract of Marriage which he was to sign. Colbert presented him the Contract; but he refused to set his hand, and went with his Complaints to the King; but the King after a rough manner bid him sign it; so that he was forc'd to do it, tho' enrag'd to the Soul at the contempt that was put upon him: which was not the only Affront which had been put upon that Prince after this Retirement. Mademoiselle de Tours, the daughter of Madam de Montespan and the Count of Tholouze, dy'd before they were Marry'd; but Maidemoiselle de Nantes, and Bloise their Sisters were as ad∣vantagiously bestow'd as Madam the Princess of Conti; the first to the Duke of Bourbon, and the other to the Duke of Chartres. Lastly, the Duke of Maine, M. de Montespan's eldest Son, Duke of Aumale, Prince of Dombes, Count d' Eu, Peer of France, Collonel General of the Swisses and Grisons, Governour of the Province of Languedoc, Collonel of a Regiment of Foot, Knight of the Kings Orders, and Officer Gene∣ral of his Armes, Married Mademoiselle de Cha∣rolois, the third Daughter of the Prince of Con∣de that now is, and the Nuptials were Solem∣niz'd upon the 9th. of March.

'Tis not to be express d what Respect the whole Court is oblig'd to give to the Kings Natural Children, even the Princes of the Blood are constrain'd to do the same; which Posterity will hardly believe. One day that the Prince of Conde was discoursing with some Courtiers, the Duke of Maine, who was then very Young, and some other Noblemen s Children of the same age made such a noise, that they interrupted their discourse, which was very serious, so that the Prince was con∣strain d to bid the Children be quiet. Which the Duke of Maine hearing made answer, that he thought his Highness had not been afraid of noise, he that had made so much in the world. Immediately the Prince went and repeated these words to the King, with the same gaye∣ty, to outward appearance, as if he had been to have repeated some witty Expression or genteel Act of the Duke of Burgundy, Nay, the Prince finding it was a Course which of necessity it behov'd him to take, carryed his deference a little farther: for when he went to the Count of Vermandois, to let him know how much he was pleas'd with the Marriage of M. de Blois his Sister to the Prince of Conti, he durst not presume to take an Elbow Chair that was presented him, but sat him down up∣on a Plain Chair, because the Count made use of such another.

Nevertheless all these deferences cannot hinder the whole Court from making private Comments and Censures upon these odd kind

of mixtures, which is the reason that many are turn'd out of favour.

In a word, they who have bestow'd the highest applauses upon the King, have not for∣born to say, that it has been one of the great∣est defects of this Monarch to intermix the Blood of Bourbon with that of la Valiere and Montespan. And indeed, altho' the Princes and Princesses who are the Issue of the King's Amours, are Persons of great vertue and mer∣it, these Alliances can never be justified. How∣ever, if we consider it never so little, the King could not dispence with doing as he has done. For certain it is, that under a new Reign, when there is generally a universal change of the Face of affairs, the Duke of Maine, would have been but little valued had he not Marry'd Mademoiselle de Charolois, or some of her Quality. Therefore 'tis meerly out of Policy, wherein Natural Affection has been only listen'd to, that the Blood of la Valiere and M. de Montespan has been mix'd with the Royal Blood of Bourbon. And whatsoever may be said against it, there was in this re∣spect a certain Generosity of the King, which balances the Irregularity of these Matches.

FINIS.

Notes

• * 1.1

  Anne. 418.
• * 1.2

  Anno 459, or 460.
• * 1.3

  Anno 485.
• * 1.4

  Anno 560,
• * 1.5

  Anno 524.
• * 1.6

  Anno 572
• * 1.7

  Anno, 574
• * 1.8

  Anno 577.
• * 1.9

  Anno ••••4••
• * 1.10

  Anno 626
• * 1.11

  Anno 771.
• * 1.12

  Anno 863.
• * 1.13

  Anno 865.
• * 1.14

  Anno 866.
• * 1.15

  Anno 869.
• * 1.16

  Anno 876.
• * 1.17

  Anno 985.
• * 1.18

  Anno 1086.
• * 1.19

  Anno 1192.
• * 1.20

  Anno. 1198.
• * 1.21

  Anno 1455.
• * 1.22

  Anno 1469.
• * 1.23

  Anno 1483.
• * 1.24

  Anno 1574.
• * 1.25

  A Virgin that lives like a Nun, but makes no vox, nor re∣nounces her E∣state.