THE GHOST OF the Marquesse d' Ancre, with his Spirits attending him. OR The Fiction of a Dialogue betweene Galligaia, Con­chini by name, or Marquesse d' Ancre his wife, and Misoquin a deluding Spirit, by whom her Husband was misse-lead. Together with the same Spirits meeting the good Genius to Monsieur the Prince of CONDE: Faithfully translated out of the French Copie printed at ROAN.

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Printed at LONDON for Nicholas Bourne, and are to be sould at the South-entrance of the Royall-Exchange. 1617.

THE FICTION OF A DIALOGVE, betweene Galligaia, Wife to Con­chini, and Misoquin, the false and de­luding Spirit that transported her Husband with vaine hopes.
Together with a meeting of the said Spirit with the Genius of Monsieur the Prince of CONDE.

SVCH dispositions, as haue but once contracted with Gods ene­my, can very hardly euer be clean freed out of his fowle clowches: For we haue an euident example hereof in Conchini, and his Wife, who being both of them so ma­ny times admonished by Gods wrath poured vpon them, yet would they not retyre, nor giue ouer their wicked life: no, not when they euidently saw, how both God and all the people were incensed against them; being afflicted by sicknesse, [Page] and the death of one of their children; as also one of their houses rifled and pillaged by the iust rage of the people; two of their domesticall friends hanged, and a thousand other manifest tokens, intimating to them, how all the Princes bare them a most worthy and de­serued hatred. Oh, what inexplicable miseries doth affectation of power and greatnesse bring vnto men! O how our disordinate appetites, to amasse, and pur­chase worldly honours, doth heape and augment our misfortunes! Thou now feelest it, now that a sodaine death hath violently carryed thee out of the world, (and as may be inferred by all pregnant probabilities) in the height of thy sinnes and transgressions. Now thou feelest it; thou, who after so many worldly de­lights, so many flatteries of honours, of contentments, art now more miserable peraduenture then the most wretched creature in all France: Thou I say, who in stead of a Royall Palace stately adorned, hast for thy habitation an obscure and hideous dungeon: Thou art hee who now findest it; for in stead of a thousand Gentlemen well borne, that were wont to doe thee all kinde of honour, stand before thee vncouered, adoring thee, and making shew, as if they breath'd and liued for no other end but to offer thee their humblest ser­uices; thou hast now it may be, some rigorous Iaylor, that contemnes thee, and in stead of any consolation, flowts and laughes at thy precipice and downefall: Thou I say, who wert wont to giue life and death to all those whom thou wouldest thy selfe, hast now need to implore and cry out for mercy of all the world: Thy greatnesse and riches wherin thou didst put such confidence, what auaile they? Where is now that [Page] same troope of Nobilitie which were accustomed to follow and attend thee? Questionlesse thou wert but deceiued: for these people followed not thy selfe, but meerely thy present fortunes and high fauours. And now thou truely knowest how vnhappy all they are, who relying vpon Fortune, thinke that she can make them masters of the whole world, whereas shee makes them but slaues and infamous vassals, not only to her selfe, but to their owne disordinate appetites & desires. Thou, I say againe, Conchini, now feelest it, thou that wert sprung from a base Sire, and yet wouldest haue exalted thy selfe not onely aboue the French Nobilitie, but euen aboue all Princes of the French stocke and race. Thou I say, that most infatiable Seianus, whose furious rage could neuer be appeased by the massacre of so many good French-men, by the imprisonment, not onely of many of the Nobilitie, but euen of the Princes of the bloud; whose wrath and reuenge could not be fully satisfied with the dolefull banishment of so many Princes, and whose auarice was neuer con­tented with so many millions of gold and siluer: Now thou hast a bitter experience, thou which gouernedst all France at thine owne pleasure; who after thine own miserable death wert not onely preuented from being the food and nourishment of wormes, but moreouer, thou wert the Butt whereat all the arrowes of the peo­ples rage and fury were shot. Thou that hadst so ma­ny houses, Palaces and Castles, and could not be suffe­red to repose within the earth in peace, for the space onely of foure and twenty houres? and whom the Earth her selfe indeed disgorged, impatient to retaine such a letiferous poyson within her wombe: the Ayre [Page] could not endure thy infections: the Water thy pu­trifaction: neyther would the Fire consume thy body, reseruing it for a prey to Sea-monsters: And now thou knowest apparantly what difference there is be­twixt the beginnings and ends of Fortune, how vari­able and mutable shee is; who being huffed vp to such eminent place, didst foolishly giue credit to a predi­ction and prophesie made of thee; and that when thou didst passe along the streetes, euery one should put off his hat, and cry out, Viue le Roy. But now thou seest, that Fortune inuerting quite this prediction, it yet comes to be most true, but thankes be to God, cleane contrary to thine owne expectation: for in stead of thy beds of state, of Gold, siluer, and silke, thou wert laid within a stinking puddle of a foule and vncleane water, and for trapped and rich harnished horses, thou wert trailed along the streetes by rascally and contemptible people.

Oh, whosoeuer thou art, on whom Fortune at this present, peraduenture may smile, learne to be wise by other mens harmes, and remember Gods Iustice, which neuer failes to punish the wicked soone or late; Behold here one, that was called the Marshallesse of France, who was possessed of the Queenes greatest fa­uours, and disposed wholy of her will, that now foa­ming with fury and madnesse, and being inclosed within a prison, spits for anger, cryes and howles out like a shee-wolfe that had beene robbed of her whelps. I saw her by chance the other day in the Bastille, shee lookes most hideously, and stroke feare into all those that did behold her; and her staring eyes, gastly coun­tenance, with her feareful visage and distracted speech, [Page] plainely shew that shee is conducted by some other spirit besides her owne: her hayre all full of skirfe and filth, hanging loose and confused vpon her shoulders, tearing her owne face and bosome, so as I neuer was touched with such an affrightment before. Where­fore I went and hid my selfe in a corner, to see the issue and further euent of this businesse, when incon­tinently I heard her vomit and belch out these or the like words:

What I? who lately could the Furies moue,
To practise murder and confusion;
Shall I endure? no, no, I will not sure:
Rather both heauen and earth I will confound,
The Elements, and all this lower round
Ile make a Chaos, mixing waues and fire,
The ayre, the earth, the heauens, and heate and cold,
What is beneath shall soone mount vp aloft,
I will my Husbands cynders summon vp.
Phoebus by Verses hath beene made descend
From th' highest Firmament, and Riuers quite reuerse,
To flye the vaste and spacious Ocean.
Nothing I feare: my force I must extend:
So loud Ile yelpe, that all shall vnderstand;
If I the Gods immortall cannot moue,
Yet will I Diuels infernall proue.
Assist me therefore Pluto, hideous Megara,
With tresses of a thousand Vipers hanging downe,
Come succour me; and all you dreadfull Fiends
In hels deepe dungeon, fearing nor men nor Gods.
What? shall our enemies vs thus deface?
Permit it not or thou neglect'st our case.
[Page] Shall we before our time be thus subdude
By this same Prince? nay, rather cut his thread,
O daughter of the night, that so his destinie
May no wayes curbe our Fame and Dignitie.
Heauens fauour, I see plaine, this mortall wight:
The Gods in counsell, all, succour him with might.
Thou that canst pleasure or annoy each one,
And cause a sonne his fathers bloud to shed,
By discord also thou canst soone deuise
Firmest accords and houses to dissolue:
In briefe, thou canst hurt men by sundry meanes,
Out of thy bosome foule some poysons belch,
Now breake this peace, and sowe both warre and strife,
That so by millions they may fall and dye.
Come hither Misoquin, who didst alway
Protect my husband; come, make no delay.

When she had finished this discourse, I saw a Spirit of strange shape and forme to appeare, with staring eyes, a huge mouth, or rather indeed a gulfe, without a nose, but hauing a body like a Caterpiller, and wings, but without legs or armes, and I beleeue it was one of those that are called watry Spirits.

So shee drew neare to this Spirit, and then they had this communication together. Gall. Well sir, where's now the performance of all your friuolous promises? that you should haue preserued and protected my husband for so long time? that you would confound, spoyle, and ruine all his enemies? Misoquin. Why I pray, did I deceiue him? Did I not tell both him and you oftentimes, that the Prince of Conde was his fatall opposite, and how he must endeuour to extirpate the [Page] Princes of the bloud. Gall. T'is true: but on the other side it was foretold vs, that our greatnes depended on a warre; but if they were once dead, against whom should we haue made warre? Misoq. Why, against the Flyes: a good workman neuer wants matter nor tooles. But to speake truely thy husband was but a cowardly coistrell, for had hee beene in the Army, hee had neuer beene slaine at Paris. Alas, hee neuer had no valour in his life, and further hee spent his time in pleasures and luxuries: but thinke you if it had lyen in my power, I would not haue preuented it? What tribute doe you imagine paid he to Pluto euery yeare? I assure you more then a million of soules. Gall. Well I called thee not now to checke thee for any misfor­tune past, but to take order with thee for some thing that is to come; for I am inwardly enraged, and re­duced in a manner to vtter despaire: my Iugineere and plotting Spirit, and who hast ayded mee in many things, canst thou not for my sake, conferre some mi­serable disaster vpon the French? Remaines there no Art, nor no policie, to compasse and atchieue our wicked enterprises? Misoquin. Your words are but meere winde: There's other matters in hand, woman, thy husband contary to all other men, makes his re­pentance in another world: for hee is now turn'd Moncke. Gall. And how so I pray? Misoq. Why, had hee not good cause to doe so, when all his virile parts were so shamefully cut away. Gall. Why thou wretched impe, wilt thou euer be mocking vs? Well, couldst thou but be sensible of the miseries which ouer-whelme me, thou wouldest not thus laugh, and make thy selfe merry. Misoquin. You are in the right: [Page] I pray doe Diuels vse to weepe? But there's other newes besides this. Gall. Euen from the Cocke to the Bull: But what I pray? Misoquin. Why yesterday I met with your neighbours Genius. Gall. Why, who was that? Misoquin The Angell of the grand Master, and wee had almost gone together by the eares about my comming hither. Gall. How came that to passe? Misoquin. I was no sooner come in, but he knew mee, by reason I was somewhat of a different forme: and thus hee said; I coniure thee to tell mee whither thou goest. Then I went still onward, and he began againe to say; In the name of God tell mee who thou art, and whither thou goest: vpon this iniunction I was en­forc'd to answere. I am, then replyed I, Misoquin, sometimes his Demon or euill Angell, that was called Marshall d' Ancre: and you sir, Who may you be? When in great choler, hee returned me this answere; It concernes not you to be herein very inquisitiue: But come you hither to seduce or corrupt any body? No, said I, for shee I come to, is corrupt enough al­ready. Accursed wretch as thou art; for, said hee, thou alwayes delightest in doing euill: Come hither, said hee, thou cursed Caytife; Art not thou hee, that didst aduise this silly woman to practise such mis­chiefe against France? Art not thou the cause, this Prince hath endur'd so much disgrace? But all thy time and labour is herein but lost: for the good, and Almighty God hath made him take all his misfor­tunes patiently: and herein hee hath highly deserued. And the same God will deliuer him from the impri­sonment hee suffers, confounding all the enemies of truth; and vnhappinesse shall befall them that per­secute [Page] him: for God himselfe is prouoked, and stirred vp against them. Tush, replyed I, these be goodly reasons you alledge; but at conclusion I preuaile in my cause, for you could not preserue your Prince so well as I did my Marquesse: for thine endur'd more miserie since he came in here, then mine did in all his life: And so on the other side, thou knowest not how hee shall dye, but I know well enough how mine did: and howsoeuer, hee dyed like a braue man, with his sword in his hand, swearing like a gallant Captaine, and blaspheming God thy Master. And be assured that they who killed him, augmented greatly herein his renowne: for had hee not beene surprized there, hee might peraduenture haue dyed in the chimney cor­ner. Then growing into great choler, See this miscre­ant villaine, said hee, how after hee hath betrayed them, how hee derides and laughes at men. This is hee (meaning it by mee) said hee, that was the cause of all his disaster, by tickling him daily in the head with ambitions and extrauagant desires of Rule and Gouernment: God in him hath expresly manifested, how hee euer abandons those that leaue and forsake him, for he dyed miserably, giuing them cause who iustly hated him, to mocke and laugh both at him and his designes. But as for you sir, I command you to re­tyre: Beleeue mee, if wee then had had any bodies, I thinke wee should haue deuoured one another; but so I left him, and came straight to you: and therefore suppose you whether hee was not deepely moued and angry or no. Gall. I finde that soundly, poore wretch as I am. Misoquin. What, doe you repent your selfe? You shall see your Husband presently, and if [Page] possible, you shall enioy your liberty. Gall. How know you that? Misoquin. I was very lately with two speciall Gentlemen of Paris that spake of you. Gall. And what said they? Misoquin. Faith no great matter: for they wisht you at the Diuell, with whom you are already: they said you should be made so great, as you should be all cut, shauen, and trimde, without costing you one penny. Gall. But what shall I doe to those wicked fellowes that clapt me vp here? Misoquin. Wotst thou what, why for their greater despight, eyther let them alone, or goe hang thy selfe, and so thou maist preuent them of the ho­nour of putting thee to death: for beleeue it, if they of Paris euer lay hold on thee, they'll handle yee in your true kinde. And a certaine woman, hath alrea­dy sould your nose to one of her neighbours, to roost her Chickens vpon: others haue bought your eyes, that so they may haue foure to see you withall, when you are led to hanging: another your eares, the better to heare your tryall and sentence: others say, your skinne will serue them fitly to make gloues of, by reason they will cost nothing the perfuming, it being of it selfe so ordurous, and stinking, that no perfume can be cast vpon it. Gall. Imagine when thou hast said what thou wilt, wee will talke somewhat of our businesse. Misoquin. And why of them? Thou hast nothing nearer to thee then thy Husband: matters are so plainely reported and diuulged of him, as they are openly cryed vp and downe through the streetes of Paris; but they are but fooles that buy them, be­cause they are but meere fopperies to that which will come out. Gall. And what can they say of him? [Page] Misoquin. Marry, all kinde of reproachfull and ig­nominious matters, but onely that they tearme him not a Cuckold, by reason that (for thus these wicked fellowes alledge) his wife is so ougly and odious, as none but the Diuell himselfe would be his Cuckold­maker. They expresse him making of his last Will and Testament: they say he hath left thee his beauty, because thou wert thereof so ill furnished; his vnder­standing hee gaue to his brother, because hee had not enough to discharge a Cardinals place: for the parts inferiour of his body, hee hath now neyther feete, nor hands; his feete commended ouer to his brother Gouernour of the Bastile, to further his flight, and his hands to those that after him shall haue the ma­naging of the Kings treasure. And to enrich you, he hath himselfe forsaken the world, but hee was so long a time in passing Acharon, by reason of a tem­pest, that hee is growne all scaly ouer like a fish. And there below, which is the best least of all, hee laughes at them which made him giue so much money for his release when hee should be in Purgatorie; for in passing along hee had not so much as a sight of it. Gall. Well, well, I see now a dayes you can doe no­thing but cogge and flout: I pray let vs talke of reuen­ging my husbands death. Misoquin. What telst thou mee of thy husband? Behold, Conchini, by the power which thou hast giuen me ouer thy selfe, I command thee to appeare here presently.

Conchini. Wilt thou neuer leaue tormenting of my soule, which hath beene miserably afflicted for so long time? Ah, forlorne and wretched caytife that I am! Misoquin. What aylst thou? doest thou repent thee? [Page] nothing worse can come to thee. Conchini. Ah most accursed creature, art not thou shee who wert the cause of all my misfortunes? Gall. Who I? Conch. I you: for otherwise we might haue liued contentedly vpon some poore humble calling, exempted from all ambition and auarice. Gall. But come hither a little: why are you in this garbe and fashion? Conch. I per­forme penance. Gall. Why haue you no hands? Conch. Pluto tooke them from mee, for prodigally wasting and consuming his riches and wealth. Gall. And why no feete? Conch. Because I vsed to imploy them in base flight when my Regiment was discomfi­ted. Gall. Why me thinkes yee are in the habite of a strange Moncke. Canch. Oh would I had beene so all dayes of my life, and had perpetually obserued cha­stitie. Gall. Wee neuer dreamt of thy death. Conch. No, but wee shall dreame fairely when wee are both together once: wherefore vnderstand and vse meanes to preserue thine owne life; for mee thinkes I see how thou art rent and torne a pieces by the cruell and in­humane multitude. And what doe our creatures and fauourites now? Gall. Some are like to be burnt, others sent backe againe from whence they came, others haue turned their proud coats into penitentiall roabes, like Bell-founders. Conch. Why, are they not yet satisfied with the disgrace and opprobry they laid vpon mee? Gall. No, they say, wee deserued much more. Misoquin. Well, you haue leasure enough to rip vp all your miseries and calamities together, 'tis time now for mee to returne, dinner is almost past.

As soone as this little Diuell had thus spoken, a thicke vaporous cloud obscur'd and darkned all the [Page] chamber: this was it wherewith the season was so chang'd, and so amidst this darknesse, I escaped away well and safe, but not without some feare.

After so faire a time, thick showers of rain come downe;
And shall not yet our miseries haue end?
Hath Fortune yet reseru'd some other frowne?
And yet will God some further scourge vs send:
No: but the husbands bloud cryes for his wiues, and yet
The roote of all our Woads is not cut vp,
On ground while this vile wretch her foote doth set,
Till shee drinke deeply of Reuenges cup.

It is further reported that vpon Wednesday, the last of Aprill, 1617. Stila Anglia, at foure a clocke in the after-noone, the generall cessation of Armes was proclaymed at Deepe in Normandy, and all the Soul­diers whatsoeuer to depart vpon paine of death: par­ticularly the 5500. Strangers, that the Marquesse d' An­cre had caused to be leuied for his seruice in Norman­dy in the Wallone Countries, and the Land of Lake, alias, Les Liege [...]yr, et Wallons.

FINIS.

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