ALTHOVGH, most Illustrious King, this your hoped and happie entrance into these Kingdomes deserue also to be celebrated with the publique ioye of the whole Christian World: Yet wee thinke that wee especially, whome you haue so graciously receiued into your bosome, can-not without exceeding sinne bee silent. Neither doe I thinke that there is any among vs of so desperate ill na­ture, so auerse from the loue of Peace, and such an enemy to the safetie of his Country, which doth not impute this your so much wished Ele­ction vnto Heauen; and withall acknowledge with gratefull mind this great Worke of God. Surely your excellent and admired Vertues, the voyces of the greatest part of the Empire, the Alliance and Friendship of so many great and potent Kings and Princes, and a certaine fatall inclination and affection of these Countries towards you, may seeme to haue exalted you vnto this height. Yet were there not a few, who well weighing the miserable condition of our [Page] deplored State did verily beleeue, that you would haue auoyded this enuious Honor. Now the Almightie Vmpier, who hath the hearts of Kings in his hand, hath directed your Royall mind, otherwise inclinable enough vnto Cle­mencie, and hath put vs afflicted Orphans vn­der the wing of your protection, and chosen you to bee a Tutour and Parent vnto vs. And whether euer Guardian was more glorious, I cannot say; yet sure I am, this Age affoords none more worthy and gracious. For whether wee look vp to your most anciēt Family, or your most honorable life, we shall find for the first, that all Histories, all Monuments of Chronicles doe record the splendour of your most glorious House; and for the second, the euer-liuing God hath treasured vp in you so many Vertues, that vnlesse so Royall a Stock did claime your birth; with your very Vertues alone, might you merit Scepters and equall Empires. Courtesie com­mands some one, but Maiesty and grauity doth forsake him: Some one man is glorious in the Gowne of Peace, but doth not so decently weare the Cassocke of Warre. Another extols Integrity abroad, but he stabs it at home in the shade of pleasure. In a word, the World neuer yeelded any man, in whose manners was not imprinted some step of staine, some blaine and blemish. Bnt in you, I speake freely without par­tiall affection, your veryest Enemies cannot pick out any thing to pick a quarrell withall.

[Page]The whole course of your life, most renowned King, is a Mirrour of Innocencie, and I may more easily expresse what all Vertue is, then what yours is. None will detract from you the praise of Piety, but he that is impious; which Piety alone hath conquered your minde other­wise vnconquerable, and by the which you are so conspicuous aboue all other Princes, as it is aboue all other Vertues. The loue of Religion, withoutwhich no man euer grew great, hath bin passed ouer vnto you from your Anceftors, with your Inheritance; the Vindication whereof hath bin the proper work of your Family, and whose succour, seat, and fortresse is your Heidelberge, an Vniuersity most famous, aswell for fostering you, as it. What shall I speake of your Prudence the Empresse of humane actions, in which you doe farre ouer-goe the capacity of your yeares? Where is he that excels you in the wise ordring of things present, in the prudent prouiding for the future, and faithfull remembring of things past? Who is more wary to auoyd fraudes, and perils? who more circumspect in his counsels: In length of life you doe yet come short of middle Age, in depth of iudgement you goe beyond the ancient. In age you profit leisurely as wee doe, but you post before vs in Verue. You are not yet come to ripenes of age, and yet you are full ripe for Empire. The fewnesse of your yeares, most prudent King, hath hither to excu­sed the infirmity of your wisdome: Now be­sides [Page] your diuine towardnesse (which admits no mediocritie of noble disposition) what shall defend your youth? how hard a thing is it in your age to keepe within the compasse of your fortune? yet haue you kept within true com­passe. And hereof haue you lately giuen so much the more notable proofe, by how much it is more magnificent to sue to bee eased of a King­dome offered, then to inuade it being denyed. And now sithence you haue taken it vpon you, what cause haue wee to doubt but that you will defend it with the same moderation, by the which you did refuse it? So high and generous a disposition cannot bee vnlike it selfe. But, O good God, how doth your gentlenesse euen shine out of your Eyes? You are a second Tra­ian. None euer went out of your presence sad­der then he came; none that doth feele your Iu­stice doth complaine of crueltie or rigour: yea, you are another Augustus, whom men may per­ceiue to endure punishment himselfe, when hee doth impose it vpon others. Nothing (most cle­ment Prince) hath purchased greater prayse to your fortune, then that you are able; nothing hath brought more Honor to your nature, then that you are willing to saue all you may. Hold on, O King, to winne and weare the most glo­rious Crowne, Ob Ciues Seruatos, for sauing your Countrey. Go on in Gods Name with this your glory, which as it is rarer in a royal House; so will it bee more eminent in yours. I want a [Page] new Name, by which I may expresse the vnwon­ted Modesty of your Maiestie. How easie is the accesse of euery one vnto your Maiestie, how ioyfull his departure! They come to a Prince, and they find a Father; and when they doe with good confidence present their Petitions and Complaints before you, they end not their speech, out of your loathing to heare any lon­ger; but out of their owne bashfulnesse to speake any more. So maruellous is your mildenesse, so courteous your disposition, that you bind men vnto you against their wils. Your very Counte­nance so cleare with an heroicall cheerfulnesse, what extraordinary mildnesse doth it promise! And yet your lenitie doth not lessen your au­thority, nor your seuerity lose your loue. There is nothing in you proud, there is nothing inso­lent; All your state, gate, motion is amiable; you refresh both the mindes and eyes of the behol­ders. O modest King! O lowly Prince! Or ra­ther high and farre exceeding all height of mor­talitie! For neuer doe you rise higher, then when you doe thus depresse your selfe. What­soeuer hath weight in it selfe doth settle it selfe below; but an emptie minde is puffed vp with euery little blast. And surely all these things are truely great: And yet no lesse are those other things by which you haue attayned vnto these: I meane, your admirable honest behauiour of life, contempt of pleasures, and diuine Temperance aboue the disposition of your age. Let others [Page] shew the Libertie of their power in their licence of sinning; Let them wallow in adulterous em­bracings; passe ouer the nights in Lasciuiousnes, and their dayes in Gluttony: You are wholy Sobriety and Continence. Needes must these vertues be in the height of excellence, that doe issue from a Fountaine so cleere, so mudlesse & so pure. To these may bee added your ardent loue to Learning and Knowledge; which how much you doe esteeme, so many learned men a­bout you doe abundantly testifie. That I say no­thing of that Sanctuarie of Learning, your Li­brarie of admired greatnesse, which you are not onely content to maintayne, but doe also as a new Philadelphus daily adde vnto it, and a­dorne it. Neither doe I touch your skill in di­uers Languages, diuers of which you speake with that facility, that euery on seems to be your Natiue Tongue. Herein you are farre more for­tunate then Alexander, who when hee had sub­dued so many Nations, did scarce vnderstand the Tongue of any one of them. And let these suffice as a small taste taken out of the infinite ranke of your Vertues; wee will leaue the true commendation of them to such whose abilitie and assurednesse in speaking is bounded within the same limits with your eternall praise; which praise if Marbles and Books were not too hard, your selfe haue engrauen with the golden Che­sill of Loue, in the most inward affections of your Countrymen.

[Page]These Eies of mine are witnesses how old and young, men aswell as women, followed you, departing from them out of your Pallatinate with a sad gladnesse: In such strange manner did the publike safetie and priuate Orbitie set ioy and sorrow to fight together with diuers af­fections. One would haue thought that euery man in the Countrey had beene depriued of his Parent. You were not yet gone away, most de­sired Prince, and yet we did desire your return. Neckar the gentlest of all Riuers seemed, as in times past to the Romans, so now to it selfe, bar­barous. Euen this Heroick Seate of thine, these Temples, these Towers followed after their Sun in a mournfull manner. That I speake not of men whose infinite multitude powred out it selfe in euery place, where you came, in the very vast Wildernesse: and yet euery one thought himself to be sorsaken when you left them: sighes and teares stroue to breake out in abundance. And whereas in bodie, not very many of those multitudes did follow you, yet all with heart and prayers (for otherwise they might not) did attend you, departing from them. And did not your Wife the Heire of the Name and Vertues of that euer renowned Queene great Elizabeth, seeme now againe to her selfe to leaue Brittaine; onely glad in this, that it was with you? How had Rednesse, the Painter of cheekes, dyed her face more then ordinary Milke white! how had a pious shower of teares violated her eyes, clee­rer [Page] then the Stars, shining wi thout the Moone! sighes gaue the farewell, because words sufficed not. And for your selfe I cannot say whether greater Piety perswaded your stay or your iour­ney. You left your Mother that Princesse of highest birth, who is yet higher then her birth, for that shee hath borne you. You left your chil­dren, that is to say, a great part of your heart; you left your Subiects, euery of which could wish to liue and die with you. You went from peace to Warre, from Acquaintance to Stran­gers; from the most peaceable Shore of Rheine, to Mulda, whose streames were swelled with the bloud of the Inhabitants; from Vineyards and a Garden of admirable beautie, to Fields stay­ned with the Robberies of sauage Murtherers, and couered with the carkasses of the slaine; from a most pleasant Castle, to a vast, yet deso­late and despoyled Place. An vnhappy change; saue that thereby you bring with you splendor to the Place; a perpetuall spring to the Fields; tranquillitie to Mulda, a friend to strangers; and peace to men in Armes. You come then in­to this Scene, into this most intricate Tragedie, as a very God out of the Engine. Pietie hath o­uercome this bard iourney; the loue of vs hath ouercome the sharpe and high Mountaines of Bohemia; within which Nature hath entren­ched it: Your Clemencie hath ouercome the Inclemencie of the place with much better luck then Hannibal, the brauest of Commanders; who [Page] in old time passed his Armie ouer the tops of the high Alpes, thorough the Cloudes that see­med to touch Heauen. For at the sight of him all Italie trembled, as at the falling of a Thunder­bolt: But by your comming the Tempest is ap­peased, the winde are layed, all things are be­come calme and cleare. Hee brought with him Troupes of Souldiers, that he might cut vp the Romans: but you come attended with Troups for our preseruation. He had sharpned his Sword against the Citie; but your back doth blunt the Swords of our Enemies. Sauage and sworne hatred opened the way to him; but incredible loue laies it open to you. He seemed to be borne to the murder of men and the wasting of Ci­ties; but you are borne to the infinite good of the Common-wealth. His approch to the gates raysed feare and horrour: You, they would be glad to beare in their very eyes, into the Throne of so many Emperers and Kings. Him, the feare­full Mothers Children, Virgines, women and men ranne away from; You they come out to meet in Triumph. His presence all did detest with mourning and pittifull yellings; yours they doe celebrate with gladnesse and great reioy­cing. They that haue ouer-liued their former sorrow, are now scarce able to beare their pre­sent ioy. I doe also verily beleeue that if there be left in dead men any sence of things on earth, that the ghosts of those men that haue sacrifi­ced their heart bloud to the publique libertie, [Page] are now replenished with vnspeakable ioy; and doe thinke that they haue spent their liues to good purpose.

O braue King, this is not enough, O King, worthy of the Empire of the whole World, worthy of the fauour; worthy also of the admi­ration of thy very Enemies! O thou pious Prince, whom not our felicitie and prosperitie, but the hardnesse of our fortune, & the wounds engrauen in our bodies with the Swords of our Enemies, hath sollicited to accept our Diadem! O most happy you, not because you haue alrea­dy subdued the whole furie of our Enemies, but because you seeme to deserue happinesse for vs all. O happy day that brought you forth into the World, and first designed you vnto this Kingdome. Which birth day of so great a Prince beginnes to bee vnto vs also another birth day, which hath brough forth so diuine a Mansion for Vertue, and did also consecrate it, to the whole Christian World. All Haile, O Lord: For we haue not cast off Rule; but out­rage and crueltie ruling ouer vs. Wee can well enough obey, but we cannot beare Tyranny; we will serue thee, that we may be freed. All haile, O King, all haile, O Father of our Countrey, All haile thou Darling and Minion of Mankind. For thee, O Illustrious Honour of our Age, for thy safetie doe we pray; for vnder thy Gouernment are wee secure of our owne safetie. God grant vnto thee that by thy hand our tottering State [Page] may be vnderpropped and restored; that thou mayest be partaker of that Vow which Octauius did once so much desire, that thou mayest truly be styled, Optimi Status Auctor: The Founder of a most happle State. And let late olde Age draw in the swelling Sailes of thy glorious Reigne, which in your Youth you haue now hoysed vp to so fauourable a wind. And beare away with you this hope, when by death you shall leaue vs: That the happy foundations, which you haue layed, shall abide for euer in their proper place.

God saue thee, O Queene Daughter of that most Illustrious Heros, whose Prayses cannot bee pent vp in the Straits of this Age, who hath ioy­ned profound Learning to incredible Wisdom of gouerning; who vnder a happie Starre hath added England vnto Scotland. God saue thee O Wife of this Prince, who doth now couple our Kingdomes to his owne Countrey with like glorie, & I would to God it may be with equall fortune. God blesse you both, who are by con­sent of God and man a most choice paire. All haile to you Sunne and Moone. How sweet a sight is it to our Citizens to see what a Lord, to our Souldiers to see what a Leader they haue with vniuersall consent elected, and with such longing desire expected? How pleasant, O King, is it to vs to heare these words out of thy bles­sed mouth? That this Acceptance of the King­dome proceeded from the loue of Peace, and [Page] not of Empire: that you are drawne into these stirres by our miserie, and not carryed by your owne disposition; that the Modestie of your refusing was ouercome by the obstinacie of our offering. That you haue preferred the publique Securitie before your owne priuate ease. That it is but a small matter to desire a people, but not so easie to defend them. And that it is al­most better to let goe an Empire that is in right ones owne, then to purchase a new one with the bloud of the Citizens: But now, sith this Scepter can neither be possest nor forsaken with­out perill, that now our estate and condition is your owne; and that therefore you will now vse your best endeauour that wee should not neede to desire another King while God shall giue you life.

We know, we know very well, most gracious Prince, that you did vnwillingly enter vpon this Kingdome which was vnwillingly left. We also were compelled; we came not of our own accord to implore your fortitude and defence: who were not ignorant of your Clemencie. We call God and men to witnesse that by compulsi­on we tooke vp Armes to defend the safetie of our Countrey, and that Liberty which is al­lowed to the besest Nations; and lastly our Re­ligion which is to be preferred before all other Causes, and whose name was in time past so sa­cred among the very Gentiles, that at the time that the French were spoyling Rome, Lu. Albu­nius [Page] one of the common people, putting out of his Cart his Wife and Children, tooke vp into it, the Vestall Virgines which did follow vpon their bare feet the sacred things which fled from the furie of their Enemies. So much at that time in the meanest men did publique Religion excell priuate affections.

To be assailed in body and estate is grieuous: but in Conscience, is intollerable.

And such we see is the nature of Liberty, that no good man will lose it but with his life. As courage and strength vses to increase to wilde beasts broke out of their Dennes, and doth be­come in a maner double: So is it with our Na­tion; it could no longer dissemble their manly courage, the due prayse of which none could euer depriue vs of, when besides the iust hatred it bore to cruell counsels and practises against vs, it burnt in desire of regaining the Libertie of the Countrey desperately lost and oppressed. Which it is alwayes lawfull for them to repur­chase who by nature were borne to liue free, and had also their Libertie established vnto them by the fundamentall Lawes and Priuiledges of the Kingdome, confirmed vnto them with the sa­cred Bond of Othes, and ratified by the Char­ters and great Seales of Kings and Emperours. Wee doe very well know that the prayse of o­bedience is enough in Subiects; that good Prin­ces are to be wished for; that euill, (if they fall to their lot) are to bee endured. But these things [Page] doe in no sort concerne vs, this is not our Case. We, wee haue taken vp▪ Armes after incredible Patience; not with any mind of rebelling, but at the Exigence of extreme Necessitie: Not in a­ny priuate Conspiracie of some few, but with the vniuersall and ioynt consent of the whole State; not in any contempt of Magistracie, but in defiance of most damnable practize against our Liues, Libertie and Religion: Neither did we doe this against a lawfull King, but to escape the deuillish deceits of bloudie Murtherers, who doe openly profesle that no Faith is to be kept, whereby we haue receiued vnvaluable damage: who gaine time, and coozen well-meaning peo­ple by Periurie, as Cheaters doe Children with false Dice and Cards: We haue now at length learned to distrust, being taught by too many wofull Examples. Wee know very well what horrible Thunderbolts are darted from the Tar­peian Rock at Rome. And that Romes Iupiter can by the way transferre Principalities and King­domes from whom and to whom he please, like the Deuill his Master: All this will I giue thee if thou wilt fall downe and worship me. And that he doth damme soules to Hell for his Recreation, and to make his Holinesse sport. Who knowes not how small protection Hus a Citizen of this Kingdome found in the safe conduct of Caesar? No lesse Tempest had ouer-taken Luther at Wormes, had not the braue Emperour put on a resolution neuer to stampe such a staine vpon [Page] his honourable Name: Had not Lewis also, the most clement Prince of your Progenitors, with­stood the Romish dishonourable determination to breake faith.

By the very like Game and foule Play should we haue bin coozened, and in the like Trap didIesuites. these men endeuour to haue caught vs, who doe vsually inuade Lords of Nations with Poniards and Parricidiall Arts; which grow remarkable in the World and glorious Martyrs at Rome by the bloud and murther of Kings; who by super­latiue horrible wickednesse did destroy great Henry of France, that Thunderbolt of Warre; subiecting him (whom the huge weight of his whole Countrey, when he stood vnder it, could not moue,) to the butcherie of one desperate Villaine: who did their best to haue dasht to the wals of his Kingdome with fire and Gun­powder, your Father-in-Law, the matchlesse Monarch of great Britaine: who haue perswa­ded themselues and others, that Saluation of Soules consists in Murders of Kings and wasting of Kingdomes; who make it but sport and play to murther the poore, to condemne the inno­cent, to take away mens liues, with Rack, Fire, and Sword, and (because they will spare to spill mens bloud) to bury men aliue; and to iumble all Diuine and Humane things together. These men first crept into the Courts, after into the Consciences of our Gouernours: These were the Directors and Presidents of all the Coun­sels: [Page] These mingled with them fraudes, dissimu­lations, perfidy, without which they teach that none can rule well. These theeuish Mates and masked Murtherers were of late continually whispering into the eares of our Magistrates a­gainst vs that common Sentence of their Sect, Vre, Seca, Burne, Cut off. With the Lyes and craftie Conueyances of these fellowes, as with excellent Arts, were wee gouerned. Vnto these also were adioyned some Seians, euill and pesti­lent Counsellors, who itching with Ambition and Lust of Eminence, thought no kind of per­fidie against vs too much. And hence was it that our Churches were abused and shut vp; Our Priuiledges violated; the innocent clapt vp in Prison and many wayes fined and punished: All accesse to our Princes shut vp against vs, the De­crees of Rodulph the Emperour eluded, and shifted off. Of men, that were contrary minded to them, some were assailed by threatnings; some corrupted with Dignities and Rewards: All right of Nations vvas broken: the Cōmon­wealth was ouer-flowne with an inundation of wickednesse, and Religion was disturbed with maruailous Treacheries. We intreated, we be­sought, we wept, we were instant in petitioning without any licence to depart, and vpheld our labour without hope of ease and redresse. But all in vaine! wee were any where safer then at home; and we got nothing, by our vaine pray­ers, but onely tyring of our selues with intrea­ting, and of them with hearing.

[Page]When then wee preuailed nothing by this milde course, but saw that heauier burdens were daily imposed vpon vs, as on such who by cu­stome of bearing were growne to beare them with more ease; all the matter and fuell of our Patience being spent, we did perfunctorily re­prehend some of them. Hence came the kind­ling of those Firebrands of Warre which the disturbers of Peace had so long desired and sought: Hence were Ianus his gates of Warre opened: Hence was it that all things were defi­led with burning, with Carcasses of the slaine, with horrour and bloud: or, as they please to terme it, corrected, I wys, and amended. I trē ­ble to relate the sauage immanity committed by thē, such as Barbarisme neuer hard of, & which perhaps shall not find credit hereafter with Po­sterity. Neither could the crying of Infants, the sobbing of Children, the teares of Matrones, or the gray haires of the old men, any whit mooue these out-ragious and sauage beasts. Virgins were abused in common, strong and weake were killed together; the Fields were wasted; the Wealth and Strength of the Kingdome was worne out; and what the Sword had left, was consumed with fire. Hitherto haue wee recko­ned vp things to be bewayled with sorrow; now I must come to relate things, that are to be blu­shed at for shame: How a Mother hurles her Children into the Riuer and drownes them, be­cause they shall not bee hewed in pieces before [Page] her face with the Swords of the Murtherers. The bodies of the dead are pulled out of their Graues in the middest of the Church: The dead bodies of Women lately buried (let Christians shake for horror) vvere layd naked vpon the Al­tars, tyed by the hands and feet, and set vpright vvith proppes to stay them at the doores of the Churches. And many other things, vvith as much abominable out-rage, were perpetrated. O Age more ingenious then Mezentius his, Ti­berius his, Neroes, Domitians, and other Mon­sters of Men to deuise Crueltie! Our liue men suffice not to these shames of Mankinde to act their abominable barbarousnesse vpon; the dead must be pulled out of their Graues to endure their villanie. We thus prouoked with their vn­speakable villanies doe then first flye to Warre; and then doe vvee let them know that vvee can fight for our Countrey; and that vvee that had ceased to feare them, did beginne to hate them. That these things freed vs from our Oath to the King none vvill deny, but such as are altogether ignorant of the Rights and Priuiledges of this Kingdome. Men vvill rather laugh at our Leni­tie; and all men fret at our folly, vvho haue so long digested such intollerable out-rage.

Novv doe we, not vvithout heauenly instinct and inspiration, retyre our selues into the bo­some of thy Clemencie, vvhose very * NameFrederick which signifies Rich Peace, or Rich in Peace. doth novv promise Peace vnto vs. God be mer­cifull vnto thee, most louing Prince, and re­vvard [Page] this thine extraordinarie gentlenes vnto vs: We will shew our thankfulnesse vnto thee in Seruice and Obseruance, if we can do no more. He that hereafter cals vs Bohemians, Morauians, Silesians, Lusatians, shall say much; but more if he call vs thine; we are thine while we are. And to goe away and dye for thee whensoeuer God please, we wlll esteeme it a happy signe. They say that the Sardi by taking the iuyce of a certaine Herbe doe laugh at their passage out of life. For you, deare Prince, we will willingly and chear­fully goe out to meete Death it selfe if need re­quire. We long to fight for you; We shall want no courage that fight vnder so valiant a Prince, no will vnder so vndaunted a Captain, no good successe vnder so iust a King: We shall haue the better in Armes that haue the better Cause. It shal not be our wearines but the death of our e­nemies, that shal put an end to our pursuit. And our Armes, that we tooke vp so slowly, wee will lay downe as leisurely. If our number bee lesse, our courage shall bee greater: They are neuer many which be slaine with the Sword.

In the meane time, wee haue a Suite to thee, O Prage, which art the Nurse and Hostesse of so many Emperours and Kings, that thou vvilt no longer detaine this best Prince from our Si­lesia, vvhich without question doth euen now earnestly expect, and ardently desire to see his face. Enter into our Countrey O King, enter; Thou shalt come most welcome vnto all, who [Page] commest for the good of all. Enter enuironed with Guards and Armies; vvee vvill neuer be a­fraid of them, vvho haue learned to liue vnder so modest and iust a King. Enter vvithout them, if you please: heere shall you finde your owne people your owne Seruants. Surely, me thinks, I see that most pleasant Countrey vvholy rising vp and comming to meet thee. Me thinkes I be­hold the great affection, of the Princes, the e­mulation of the Nobles, the Assemblies of Se­natours, and those innumerable multitudes of people powred out to behold you; some going before, some going by, some following after, all eagerly pressing to enioy your presence; and the vvals of the fairest Citie Vratislauia, receiuing with long-vvished embracings their so much desired Prince, and the tops of the highest Tur­rets, as it were, bending dovvne themselues to do you Honour; and the Citie not a little proud that it hath the Honour to entertayne thy Ma­iesty. But all these things I leaue to the Learned, vvhereof vve haue very great plentie: And vvell knovving and vveighing both your greatnesse, most mightie King, and the vveaknesse of mine ovvne vvit, I vvill reuerence thy heauenly Ver­tues vvith admiration onely and silence.

Novv let vs all vvith publike voyce humbly beseech the Lord of all, vvhich alters the times and courses of times, which puls downe and sets vp Kings, that Hee would keepe, preserue and protect thy Maiestie, & gouerne thy Coun­sels [Page] and Cogitations. Long and much may Re­ligion flourish vnder thee, and let it receiue in­crease and credit from thy Pietie. Let bee roo­ted vp all stemmes of Superstition and doting toyes of traditions, abominations before the eyes of God. Let thine Enemies be confounded, and come following those Banners that they came out to meet in the Field: Bee more victo­rious in Battell then that braue Zisca, that rock and terrour of euill men. And excell your selfe in Peace, and increase that Kingdome gowned, which you haue set at Libertie armed. But if thou O God dost prepare some heauier crosse for vs, and wilt not yet, by reason of our sinnes, put an end to our labours, yet grant that for the defence of thy Name, for our Prince, for our Libertie, for our Countrey, we may either ouer­comevaliantly, or dye blessedly, or both. Defend his Gouernment that defends thy Glorie, and after Hee hath happily passed through a long Race in this mortall life, and shall haue layed a­side this most happie burthen of the Common­wealth, translate him from this mortall Scepter to a Crowne of life which shall not bee taken from him for euermore.

And let all that loue Christs Truth, say AMEN.