GOOD chear Friend: prethee where abouts am I, and how far is it to the Low Countries?

You seem not well awake Sir, in asking for the Low Countries, when you are no wat Brussels.

Ah do not insult over a poor unhappy Shadow, that has had no rest for this hundred and thirty Years. Did you know who I were, be you Friend or Foe, you would shew me some respect.

Pray let's hear then who you are, that we may know what respect is due to you; for my being a Porter does not hinder me from being able to give as good account of things as another; and tho' I have not liv'd an hundred and thirty Years, yet have I liv'd the best part of that time; which makes a Man old enough not to be afraid of Ghosts and Shadows. Pray then ask what you please, for I have past no small time of my life at Court.

Good Friend do not trifle with me; you tell me you know Brussels, and what has past in the World. Pray what's your name, you that speak? for if you be of Quality, I shall presently know you; are you the Duke of Arschot, Count Egmont, Count▪ Horn, the Marquess de Bergues: These are Persons well known in Flanders.

God forbid I should pretend to be so great as any of these; no, no, I am only a poor Door-keeper, my name Volcart. But pray let's know what's yours.

Why I am the Ghost of Charles V. he that ruled not only the Provinces we speak of; but carri'd his name much far­ther: so that I need say no more to thee.

You Charles V. you are an Imposter, were you that great Prince, you would know the place where you are, seeing you built it.

Ah! I begin to know whereabouts, I am; 'tis true it was I that built this Palace, but why dost thou make me re­member a thing which was the beginning of my misery? Dost thou know why I built it, and for what end it serv'd me?

No; unless it were to hang Pictures in; at least this is the common report. But is it possible, that you are that great Prince, whom I have heard so much of, and whose Memory is in so great veneration in these Provinces?

The very same.

And what brings you into these Countries?

The desire of knowing what passes. Thou knowest I was born here, and that the love of ones Native Country never dies. Another reason brings me here besides, I am willing to instruct my Descendants, how they may be more happy than I. Here's the wretched place where I began to lose my Innocen­cy; I had rang'd Pictures here, as thou now saist, of all the Princes of Europe; but to my misfortune, none of 'em appeared so beautiful to me, as that of my Sister the Queen of Hungary. I was always gazing on it; Curst be the Painter that made her so handsom, which gave me a desire to behold the Original, which appeared to me far more beautiful than its Picture. I could take no pleasure after this, but in her company. What shall I say, I loved her, she loved me. And this is the cursed ef­fect of these abominable Pictures.

How! methinks this does not well agree with your Character, for I comprehend by this, that the Love you had for her, was of another nature, than that which is usual between Brother and Sister.

Very true; and would to God it had not proceeded so far, I should not have sigh'd as I have done, and been dri­ven to this despair. But to make an end of this discourse, dost know who Don John of Austria was?

Know who he was? yes, sure; he was Governour of these Provinces, and I have admitted thousands and thousands of Persons into the Palace to speak with him.

That is impossible; for tho' thou art otherwise old enough, yet not so old as to have seen him. It's about an hun­dred and thirty Years ago since I am dead, and he was then at Mans state; so that consequently he could not live long enough for thee to know him.

What then you don't mean Don John of Austria, the Son of Philip IV. begot on an Actress, the Brother of our King now Reigning.

No.

You speak then of the other Don John, he that won the famous Battel of Lepanto, in a word, your Son.

Yes; but dost know who was his Mother?

No; I have read Strada out, without being the wi­ser in this matter. He says, indeed, that he was your Son; that he was brought up by Don Lewis Quiscida the Steward of your Houshold, no body knowing who he was, he himself being ig­norant of his Original, till Philip the Second inform'd him one day a Hunting: but of his Mother, he made no mention.

Who is this Strada?

Why he was a Jesuit that gives an account how you left the Empire, and forsook the World; and who like­wise has given us the famous History of the Troubles in the Low Countries, under the Reign of Philip II. your Son.

A Man of his Order could not write any thing to disgrace my Memory; for the Jesuits have been ever Pensiona­ries to the House of Austria; besides, the first thing they learn, is to offer Incense to the great ones of the World. However, if he has conceal'd my shame, I will not; know then, that the Queen of Hungary was Don John's Mother.

The Queen of Hungary, Don John's Mother? What your own Sister?

The very same. Do not I tell you so?

However prepared one may be against the hearing of extraordinary things, yet shew me the Man whom this Re­lation will not surprize. A Child of ones own Sister. Whor­ing is frequent enough, and passes for Gallantry, but thank God Incest is not so rife. Our Town it's true is full of Cuckolds, as [Page 6] well as others; and my own Son was of the number, having married a Woman a little above his Quality. But seeing the Wife of a King, and the Sister of a great Emperor have drove on the Trade, it belongs to him to comfort himself. And it ap­pears to me, that it is not the Cuckolds that suffer in the other World, but those that make them so; otherwise it would be the King of Hungary who would appear to me, and not the Great Charles.

Thou saist right, and it wou'd not be just, that af­ter having suffered in this World, they should suffer moreover in the other. However being now sufficiently instructed about me, prethee learn me, what has hapned in this Country since my death.

What, then, have the dead such Curiosity? The Hereticks affirm they are no farther concern'd in the Affairs of this World.

Ah.

You sigh.

I have reason to sigh. I know what you mean by this Word Hereticks, and this brings still to my remembrance more Evils which I have committed. But do not enlarge my Grief, but rather divert it by an Answer to my Question.

Withal my Heart; provided you'l let me know the Reason why you left the Empire, and retired from the World; for all those that have wrote on that Subject, have given such different Accounts, that the World is at a loss whom to be­lieve.

Spare me a Recital, which will be to me very trouble­som.

Spare me then likewise a Relation, which will spend my Lungs. Besides, do you think I can satisfie your Questi­on without deep Sighs? A Man must be very insensible to re­late without the greatest regret, the former Condition of these Provinces, and that wherein they now are. I have seen them flourishing, and at this day do behold them so decay'd, that its impossible to think them the same.

Well I see thou art a Man of thy Trade, that will not so much as tell a Man what's a Clock for nothing; Thou hast been always a griping covetous humour'd Fellow, I'll warrant thee.

I am of that humour God has been pleased to en­due me with, either I do love Money, or I do not love it: How­ever I know not why you should not satisfie my Questions, as well as I yours.

I cannot tell thee any great news from the other World; and as to this, when I was on the Throne I could not conceal every thing from the Eyes of the Publick. There are some Quick-eyed Argus's every where. All that I can say to thee is, that if I have been reserv'd in any thing, it has been chiefly in the matter of Opinion or Religion; Policy had learn'd me, that through the Profession of a great Zeal to the Catho­lick Religion, I must arrive to the universal Empire. So that I would be thought to be the most bigotted Roman Catholick in the World; I undertook Wars under this pretence, and if thou wouldst know more of this matter, thou needst only read the History of my Life, which I got written in my Life time.

I have read it; and there seems to me several Pas­sages, wherein you contradict these Polities; for Example, how do you explain the Sacking of Rome by your Troops, and the Imprisonment of the Holy Father, whom you kept along time in Custody in the Castle of St. Angelo.

Poo a Fart of this, your Spiritual Persons are as great Polititians as the Secular Princes; we have all our Finesses from the Clergy, and you'll find them to be the greatest Trick­ers. Read only the History of the Popes, and you'l see, that you must not go to Rome for Religion; and hadst thou been at the Place, as well as I, thou wouldst not need two words to be said to thee, on that Subject.

I have heard indeed several times what you say, but I ever thought 'twas the Hereticks that spread these Reports. However I am almost convinc'd by what you say, for I cannot believe Ghosts will lye, especially such an Illustrious Phantome as you.

I do not lye, but speak the Truth; dost thou not see what jugling and tricking there is to be Pope, whence thou maist judg, what they are capable of, when they have got into the Chair.

However we have had one of late, that was not of this Number, but really an honest Man; for had it not been for him, the Heirs of your Brother Maximilian might have begg'd [Page 8] their Bread, the Turks had driven them from the Throne; whereas by his means, they themselves are driven out of Hunga­ry. Lewis the Great caus'd an Archbishop of Cologn to be ele­cted, a Prince of Liege, and Bishop of Munster, according to his humour, but by a lucky stroke, the good Father has turn'd Lewis beside his Politicks, without which these Provinces had in a short time unavoidably faln into his Hands.

And who is this Lewis the Great.

'Tis the King of France, a Prince such another al­most as you have been, a great Pol, full of Dissimulation, a mighty undertaker, and generally successful; its true he has not laid hold on the Pope yet, as you have done, but 'twas not for want of good Will but Power. He has had divers Quar­rels with him grounded on frivolous Pretences, byt however the whole has turn'd much to the advantage of Christendom.

Which is to say, that this Pope whom thou hast made so honest a Man, is no more than a Man; for this stroke thou speakst of, arises from a Principle of Revenge and human Af­fections, as well as those of other Men. But before we go any farther, prithee tell me some of those Remarkable Passages since my death; and which I could never hear any thing of in the other World.

That's my design, and I had come there, had you not interrupted me: in comparing Lewis the Great with you, I was about telling you, that he has not been behind hand with you in loving the fair Sex; and though he has not had Privacies with his own Sister, which is an abominable Incest, yet he has been guilty of an Adultery, which must needs sound very Criminal. He has taken away one of his Subjects Wives, and enjoy'd her several years. And in a word, as your Sin made you retire in­to a Monastery, where you dyed; his made him undertake the destruction of the Hereticks of his Kingdom. He has depriv'd them of the Exercise of their Religion, and this is the Penance imposed on him by Father la Chaise his Confessor; without which, its probable he has inform'd him, that the way to Para­dice would be shut up; whether he has deceiv'd him or no, let others judg; my Hair stands an end at the remembrance of the Violences and Cruelties used to effect this. However he has had greater success than your Son; who desirous of doing the like in these Provinces, has thrown them into such a Revolt, as [Page 9] has cost him the loss of the best part of them. Hence has ar ose Republick, which flourishes above Envy, and has stood out in War I know not how many times against all the Forces of your Posterity: But in fine, after 'twas found they could not bring her under; they have made a Treaty with her, by which they ac­knowledge her a Sovereign State.

In what Canton was this Republick form'd; proba­bly in the Provinces bordering on France?

No, Sir, a mistake: on the contrary in Holland, and the six other Neighbouring Provinces, which have made a League together, which has held for this hunder'd and twenty years and upwards.

What Head have they had to compass such an En­terprize

William Prince of Orange.

What he that was so dear to me, that I was continual­ly leaning on his Shoulders as I walkt; notwithstanding the Jealousie I caused hereby to my other Courtiers?

The very same.

What Reason could he pretend for this?

Reason sufficient as you shall hear. Luther and Cal­vin had brought over several People to their Sentiments; and se­veral here amongst us believ'd, that the first of these was sent from God to reform the Abuses of the Catholick Religion: In a word, they suffered themselves to be perswaded by the Ministry of those who taught his Doctrine. What shall I say; The Ex­emplary Life they led, compared with the dissolution of Man­ners amongst the Catholicks; the Inquisition which Philip your Son would have brought in, with some other Novelties, altoge­ther as dangerous; the rigor of those which Govern'd, and a thousand other things, which I do not mention, gave Birth to these troubles, the Sequel of which has been, as I now men­tion'd.

But why if they would have chang'd their Religion, did they not rather take the Lutheran than the Calvinist? Luther was so Honest a Man and so knowing.

If he were such a honest Man, I much womder you should Persecute him so; and not only him, but all those that Profest his Doctrine, and it seems to me, they have not had a more mortal Enemy than you.

Prethee now, these are Mysteries of State, which every body must not see into, I have already told thee, that Princes are good Comedians, I have experienc'd what I tell thee in my self, how many things have I been forc'd to do against my Inclinations; for so far was I from hating Luther and his Do­ctrine, that I have always had a secret Veneration for both. Thou enquirest of me just now, how I came to leave my Sove­reignty to retire into solitude, I had no other reason than this, that I had persecuted the Truth against the Light of my own Conscience, and my Sin continually stared me in the Face: So that imagining that nothing could appease the Anger of God but a Bloody Sacrifice; I hence determine to leave all to do Pe­nance. I imparted this design to three Men who had the same Sentiments as I, thouching Luther and his Doctrine; I had al­ready taken one of them for my Director, though in appear­ance he was a zealous Roman Catholick; and having all three of them approved of my Resolution, they likewise promis'd to follow me. And here's in one word the Secret of this great retreat, which has made such a noise in the World. But after so much Blood so unjustly spilt, could I do less than to Cloy­ster up my self (as it were alive) for the expiation of my Sins.

But you did not dye in those Opinions, but un­doubtedly came to your self again.

I did, and the three Men I mentioned. Philip II. knew it well, and I learnt in the other World a Circumstance which I'll tell thee. My Son, having been inform'd, I know not how, that these three Persons had always entertain'd me in the same Religion, he would needs make their Process after their death. But a certain able Counsellor, more subtle than he, ad­vis'd him to have a care what he did, seeing he could not con­demn them, without condemning my Memory as an Heretick, and that as Rome had given out a Decree, by which the Chil­dren of those Persons could not inherit; so this would be to de­clare himself fallen from the fairest Succession as ever befel Prince: So that they were let alone, and my Bones likewise untoucht.

So then as far a I can perceive you are an Heretick Mr. Charles the Fifth; but will you do me no hurt, or shall I go and setch some Holy Water.

Fie, sie; at thy age to talk so. This were well enough for a Child; prothee be quiet, and stay here, I intend thee no harm; the Dead do neither good nor hurt.

Ah good Mr. Charles the Fifth may I trust you, good now swear as you are a dead Man; for I believe dead Folks do not use to forswear themselves.

I'll do more, I'll swear on the Faith of an Empe­ror, and this Oath is stronger than that thou requirest.

What then the Word of a dead Man is nothing with you; and that of an Emperor or Prince is less with me. How many are there in our days, who laugh at their own Promises, their is neither Treaty nor Oath that holds them, and provided they can say 'tis a matter whereon the good of the State de­pends, they think they deserve more praise than blame. Its true your Gentlemen Courtiers are the Causes of these abuses, for instead of blaming what's blame worthy, they are prodigal of their Incense in all occasions; a great Deceiver is a great Poli­titian in their speech, and they have always in their Mouths this Maxim, that he that cannot Dissemble knows not how to Reign. And therefore pray let me hear no more of your Emperor, and your word of a Prince, I had rather you would swear to me by the Faith of a dead Man. Death makes all equal, and as I shall be whether I will or no, dead as well as you, so I may require you to do me Justice; if you put any of your Tricks on me, your distinguishing Maxims being not able then to shelter you from my just Reproaches.

Well then, on the Faith of a dead Man, I promise thee all thou desirest.

What's the meaning of this, to promise me all that I desire? Do's not this resemble the Treaty of Nimiguen, where for want of an exact explication there arose a thousand Abuses? I'll have something more real and positive; you Princes have such fetches which others cannot understand. Did not Mr. Ravaux entertain you below with his subtilties; and after ha­ving stretch in this World the Comté of Chiny as far as he plea­sed, will not he make a good Counsellor for you? (he that now wants a Master) to trouble all those you may have to do with.

Who is this Mr. Ravaux?

He is a Man that has gained more Countries to France than any Captain it ever had; a Man that has intro­duced such a right of dependancy, as was never heard of before him, and who if a Truce had not hapned between his Master and the neighbouring States, which has interrupted the Course of his Chicaneries, would have made to depend at the end of a lit­tle County the Empire of Trebison'd, which yet is distant from it some Hundreds of Leagues.

But why did the King of France encourage such great Injustice, was he not inform'd better than thus of the Truth?

But why as long as you have liv'd, have you upheld those who told you, to make their Court to you, that you had a right to the Kingdom of Naples, and the other States which you invaded in Italy? Was not you likewise inform'd of the Truth, as well as he could be? or was it more lawful in those times to seize on others Rights than it is now.

Thou art, I was going to say, a sawcy old Fellow, to press thus on a Prince. Are all sorts of Truths fit to be spoken? and were it not better to dissemble many things.

Very well, we are now come to the Point, had I not then reason to say, that Princes never want Courtiers to ruin them by their Flatteries, and partial Representations of things? Had you been dealt so freely with in your time, as I now talk to you, how much Blood had been saved, which was shed by your wretched Ambition? What are you now the better for all your Violencies, Rapins, and Murthers? What is now left you but the sad remembrance of so many Crimes? But I'll hold my self in. By the way then, pray inform me of one thing, which I am curious of knowing. Were you amorous in that time we speak of, or were you not, and which of the two Hi­storians shall I believe? him who sets forth one of your Actions as Great and Heroical, whilst the other gives it quite different Colours. Here's what the first says; That there was a Gover­nour of a small Place who had a very handsome Woman to his Wife, one of whom the Vice-Roy of the Province became greatly enamour'd, insomuch that he used all means to induce her to con­tent his Passions, but that her Vertue being above the Tempta­tion, he knew not what course to take to have his desire; when he had news brought him that her Husband was concern'd in a Conspiracy: he being transported with this good Fortune, re­solves [Page 13] to make his Wife redeem his Life at the cost of her Ho­nour; but that this Lady, on the hearing of the Proposal, went to her Husband and endeavoured to strengthen him in the re­solution of dying, rather than purchase his Life on such shame­ful terms; but that her Husband, weaker than she, threw him­self several times at her Feet, conjuring her to save him, tho' at that price, seeing no other would be accepted: That she had wept, sigh'd, and bewail'd most pitiously her Misfortune, before she could be brought to yield to her Husbands request; howe­ver being at length prevail'd with, she went to the Vice Roy, who beyond Example, had commanded her Husband to be strangled in the Prison, whilst he enjoy'd her Embraces; that this Woman at the leaving his Bed, thinking to find her Hus­band, and to bewail with him the extremity she had been redu­ced to, was extreamly supris'd and discomforted at the same time to find him dead; that she had a thousand times curst the Perfidiousness of the Vice-Roy, and that after several Imprecati­ons, easie to imagin, she had resolv'd to go in the search of you, though to the end of the World, to demand Justice, had she not been inform'd that you were coming into that Country; at which time of your arrival, she addrest her self to you, and that you having heard the Matter, it had rais'd such Indignation in you, that you caus'd the Vice Roy to come before you, and at the same time sent for a Priest and an Executioner: that as soon as ever he came into your Presence, you reproach'd him with his Crime, with command to make present Reparation, in espousing the Woman: that he was greatly surpriz'd to see you in such Passion, and having fruitlesly endeavoured to pacifie you; he had at length taken the Party of marrying her, seeing he must do that or dye. But that having Espoused her, he was still more supriz'd, seeing you told him he had now made reparation to the Honour of this Woman, but that he had not satisfied your Justice; whereupon ordering him to confess himself im­mediately to the Priest, who had married him, you had caus'd the Executioner to strike off his Head.

All this is very true; and this Historian has related no­thing but what I have done.

Very well great Emperor! hold you a little, and hear what the other Author says I now mention'd. Having related the matter like the former he adds; that this Woman having seiz'd [Page 14] on your Affections as well as the Vice-Roys, you became so in love with her, and so jealous at the same time, that this was the reason, why you made such quick dispatch of her Husband; and that this was a thing concerted between you, before this sen­tence, which made you appear such a great lover of Justice; but that at bottom, this was only the remains of that fire, which made you burn for the Queen of Hungary. I always believ'd this was meer slander, especially when he tells us you loved your own Sister; but seeing you have already acknowledged one, why should you not be as ingenious in confessing the other? seeing the latter is not, I think, so criminal.

Yet this has cost me a great remorse of mind.

This is true then, and the last Author is not mi­staken.

No.

Very well; here's another stroak which makes you very much resemble Lewis the Great. You have been gnaw'd all your life time with such an excessive ambition, as has made you disturb the Peace of all the World. And this was reproach'd you by that little Monk, whose sleep you interrupted, when con­fined in your solitude. Did he not tell you that having turn'd all Europe topsie turvy, you could not be quiet your self, neither would you let others be so in their solitude? But as far as I can see, here's another subject of comparison between you two. You have both of you taken your Neighbours Wives, but Lewis was so far from putting to death Monsieur de Montespan, that he sent him into his own Country, and ordered him a considerable sum of Money for the gilding of his Horns; whereas you cause a Mans Head to be taken off his Shoulders, because he has a hand­som Wife. Bless us! how dangerous was it in those times to Espouse one of Merit and Beauty; the Husbands were not hor­nified as they are now adays, but ran a risk to ride Post into the other World. Well, I see there's no such great reason to praise the times past; for now as soon as a Spark has Money, he has quickly an handsom Mistriss, and a good Friend. The Husband is the most complaisant Man in the World, he takes his Cloak, Sword and Gloves, as soon as ever he sees him coming, and un­der pretence of business, he lets him do his peaceably with his Wife. This brings to my remembrance what has hapned to my self; There frequented a certain Spark, heretofore, my House; [Page 15] and as soon as ever my Wife saw him, she took great care to re­member me of a visit I promis'd, or of a pleasant walk, I can­not tell whether she meant any harm by it, but methinks my Forehead itches at this very time I am speaking of it; well, peace be with her Soul, I forgive her, seeing she is gone.

Prethee hold thy Tongue, cease complaining and be quiet, why shouldst thou be more squeamish than other Folks? if thou wert the only Cuckold in the World, it were another matter.

Very fine truly! I thought the People of the other World would not have exprest themselves at so light a rate on so grave a subject; I thought rather, that having left behind them these amorous Vanities, they would have shewed the greatest abhorrence of these Abuses. But I have a strong per­swasion you have not wholly lost your old rellish; and that ha­ving had your time with the Queen of Hungary, and the handsom Widow we lately mentioned, as well as with many others, you still have a hankering after the same game; for an old sinner ne­ver dies to himself, and tho' his strength fails him, yet his will is still the same. But pray tell me to what end were all those grimaces, when you were in your solitude, seeing you were ever such a good companion. If I understand what you now said, you would have one believe you to be a sincere Lutheran; but if this were true, how could you assist at the Prayers of the Monks in the Quire as you did; did you find nothing herein that went against your Conscience? But above all, how do you excuse that whimsie which made you shut your self up alive in a Tomb as another Harlequin? Is it not for this reason that this Comedian has a name so near yours, that it is the ve­ry same with the first Letter. Methinks I see you in that po­sture full of amorous fancies, whilst the Funeral Offices were chanting for you. But pray what could be your design in doing this, and what was the use you intended to make of this.

To blind the World, and make it believe the contrary to what was true. Several that saw clearer than I desired, for a long time, suspected that I was not firmly fixt to the Catholick Religion, which necessitated me to throw Dust in their Eyes by some famous action. Moreover, how could I do better than in testifying outwardly to approve of Prayers which I in­wardly [Page 16] disliked; yet thou maist know, that I was scrupulous enough to do nothing herein; and I did not cease to tell my three Directors that this was a great sin, as in effect I do believe it to be still: but what wouldst thou have a Man do? they seeing me melancholy and doubtful, were afraid they should be call'd in question about the change of my Religion, and there­fore they gave me no rest, till I had finished the Mummery, of which they had been the inventors: Yet there were none but the Vulgar that were abused hereby, for clear-sighted People saw through the cheat.

Well! As far as I can see, Father Strada is a great lyar, who would have this action pass, as a matter of great edi­fication; if he has had no better Memoirs for the rest of his Hi­story, I see there's not much stress to be laid on what he says: And to speak the truth, altho' he brags much of the certain knowledge of what he writes, yet I have for some time began to suspect his veracity; for I could never rellish his attributing all along the advantage to the Spaniards, and at the same time I see a Republick spring up, and he is so far from saying how this comes to pass, that he does not so much as mention one tittle of it.

A Jesuite Historian; you must expect indeed much truth from such a one. But do not thou disguise it from me, but instruct me in the state of these Provinces, and that of my Descendants.

Your Descendants are terminated in an infirm Prince that remains to us, and who according to the common report cannot give us an Heir, which is attributed to his Marriage with a French Princess, of whom care has been taken to put her out of a condition of having Children before shew was suf­fered, to go out of the Kingdom. I have ever heard, that when a Woman is brought to Bed, it is an easie matter to hinder her from having any more Children; but I cannot tell whether this secret may be extended as far as a Maid. However, for my part, I am not learned in these matters.

So that according to what thou saist, here's the Spa­nish Monarchy at an end; but is there not a Son of some Daugh­ter of Spain who may keep up the glory which I acquired when I was in the World?

Ay, ay, do not put your self in pain about that mat­ter, the eldest Sister of our Prince was married about thirty Years since to Lewis the Great, she has left a Dauphin, and the King his Father, who is not asleep when there's any thing to be gotten, has already seiz'd of one part of Flanders under pre­tence of this Succession.

But the time is not yet come, and therefore he must wait with patience whether he will or no.

You do not know him, he is a very Devil at Pro­cesses and Law Suits; the desire of having is so great in him, that without murthering People, he finds ways to seize on their Estates, he has a thousand Monsieur Ravaux at Wages, they are turning over Books Night and Day to find what he desires, and when the Laws are against 'em, they will make new ones, ra­ther than fail of their Business. I know not where he picks up these Petty Foggers, but they guild over their matters so well, that they seem to have the reason on their side. It was under such a sort of pretence, that he entered into Flanders about twen­ty Years since, and had our Neighbours suffered him, he had made fine work of it in three Months time, for he took I know not how many places. The following Winter he conquered the Comté in eight Days, having with his Loüis d'Or's corrupted the Governour, who was an old Bigot, who pretended to carry Candles to the Saints, whilst he set up his before the Altar of some Wench. The most Christian King caus'd him to come into France after this, as into a proper place to content his fan­cy; but having not every Day such Provinces to sell as la Comté, he was forced to content himself with one Mistriss, when he had not Means to purchase more. God reward our good Neighbours the Dutch, who began from that time to assist us, without them we had suffered far more; for these French De­vils came to our very Walls insulting over us; I would have kill'd one great he Rogue, who came insolently and turn'd up his Breech at us, having pursued our Guard to the Counter­scarp what a fine mark this would have been, his name was la Serre, a Lieutenant of the Gard de Corps, a Fellow insolent, if ever there was any, witness what he did since to Madameiselle de Guise; I believe had this been, and this Princess had known it, she would have settled a Pension on me for life. But of mis­fortune my Piece went not off, not but that it was a good one, [Page 18] but I had forgot to charge it; so greatly was I disordered in my mind.

What you were very angry then?

I did not know whereabouts I was! What, a Rogue come and let down his Breeches! and shew his Arse to civil People: For an Officer to do this, this was such an unseemly sight! the Villain makes my Blood rise. But he is, it seems, a Fellow that has not only two Faces, but two Wives; who are both yet alive, or at least were so a little while since. The King knows this, and Madamoiselle de Guise did not forget to acquaint him with it; but being, as he is, Lewis the Great, and not Lewis the Just, the Villain may Marry two others, if he will, without any danger from the Law.

However, this is a matter of consequence in a State, and a Prince ought not to suffer it.

Why, don't you say, This is not Christian like with­out enclosing the Crime within the bounds of Policy; should a Man of the other World express himself at this rate; I that am still in this, would not speak thus; but you make good that old threadbare saying, Quo semel est imbuta, &c. But pray how long have you been below? and how long is it since you came forth? I believe you have been better here than where you are at present, seeing that after so long an Apprenticeship your talk is still of one place, and not a word of the other; this is not a Note that the Lutheran Religion is so good, but rather a mark that we must remain here as long as we can.

Thou maist be mistaken in thy conjectures. How­ever, believe what thou wilt, its not permitted me, to unde­ceive thee; the dead speak not so freely as the living; they are enjoyned silence.

If it be so, I would advise all our Brussels Ladies, to have always to do with the dead; and as little commerce as may be with the living: by which means their Adventures would not become so publick. I saw a List the other Day of near two hundred of very high Dames, who were all in by Name and Surname; and how many Gallants they had a­piece; and it must be granted they are not ill provided, if the List be true. Those that pass among us for the most modest, have only one Gallant at a time, but they change when they think fitting; you, for your part, grave and great Sir, needed [Page 19] only one of these to heat you, when you lay freezing before Metz.

But now thou talk'st of Metz, have not my Descendants or Nephews found out a way to revenge the affront I receiv'd there, by the perfidiousness of Henry II. who so basely seiz'd on it; could they find in their Hearts to leave so considerable a place in my Enemies Hands, with the two others, which they surpriz'd at the same time? This concerned Maximilian my Bro­ther, and his Children; prethee let me know what they have done in this matter, that I may comfort my self by the know­ledge of the good condition the House of Austria lies in on that side, and how 'tis with her in Spain, and these Pro­vinces.

I can tell you nothing on this Head, that will much content you; not but that Maximilian and his Son have follow'd your Maxims; they have endeavour'd, as much as they could, under pretence of Religion, to make themselves formidable in the Empire; tho', if one may believe several good Historians, they were no less affected than you to the Lutheran Doctrines. But, in sine, their designs being too well known to succeed by this means, there arose so many Factions against them, that they left the King of France at rest, to apply themselves to that which was most urgent.

Since that, we have seen one of their Successors nearer the happy terminating his Enterprises, if France, who with good reason mistrusted his Ambition, had not excited the King of Swedeland to oppose him. He was a Prodigy for Valour, Con­duct, and good Fortune; and did as much in two Years as ano­ther would have thought himself happy to have perform'd in a long Life; and had he not ended his Days in so fair a begin­ning, by a mortal stroak at the Battle of Lutzen, he had placed himself on the Imperial Throne, and driven out the Descen­dants of Maximilian. There are who have attributed this to the French, supposing they had conceiv'd a jealousie at his Power, but withall this, those that really knew how matters passed, are agreed, That his misfortune came, in that there arose a thick Mist in the beginning of the Battel, which hindred him from seeing a Squadron that advanced; and which gave him the mortal Blow we mention'd. Some of his Party perceiv'd his Death before the end of the Combat, having seen his Horse, [Page 20] whose Saddle was all covered with Blood, go from Squadron to Squadron, as if he had been to seek his Master; but having had the discretion to keep within themselves the grief they felt, they lost not their Courage, so that they carried away the Victo­ry, which this great Prince had given a beginning to.

This Death brought some comfort to your Descendants, thinking that after the loss of this Prince, none of his followers could fill his place; but the Duke of Weimar, having had the boldness to present himself to Command the Army, fortune as­sisted him to such a degree, that he appeared not unworthy this Employ. He conquer'd the strong place of Brisac; and dying some time after, France, who had gotten her Foot into the Pa­trimony of your House, could not be obliged to retire; but on the contrary, maintain'd her Ground by a Treaty, to which ours were obliged to condescend, having other Affairs to at­tend. Since this, so far have they been from finding an oppor­tunity of recovering their own, that they have added loss to loss. France is now in possession of all the Banks of the Rhine from Basil to Cologne, excepting Philipsbourg, yet does she bridle this place, by means of a Fortress, which she has rais'd between Landaw and Germesseim.

And does all the Country on this side belong to he?

No; but she has possest her self of it by one means or other: Ravaux has told her, that this belongs to France; she has believ'd him on his bare word, and has not put her self on the trouble of discussing the matter; all that was comprehend­ed in so vast a Country, has been cited to promise Fealty, and do Homage. All have been cited to appear, of what Quality soever, Princes as well as others, before the Royal Chamber establisht at Metz: Ravaux was both Judge and Party, so that they have been forc'd to submit; those that would not, have been driven from their Estates, preferring a miserable life, but glorious to a repose; which could not be very calm, seeing it must have overwhelm'd them with confusion.

It is to be supposed my Descendants have given them a place of Retreat, and commended a Constancy, which must raise Emulation in those who have not had the Courage to fol­low their Example.

Not at all, I have seen Princes among them oblig'd to come seeking from Court to Court their subsistence; I have seen also some of 'em forc'd to take a Captains place in the Troops, to receive a pay, which may hinder them from holding out the Hand.

But I suppose this fury has extended it self only on the Villages, and that the strong Towns have not been aw'd by Monsieur Ravaux and his Decrees. Luxemburg, for instance, must defie this Petty-fogger, any one of its Cannons being capable of stopping the Mouth of his pretences.

Mistake not your self, Sir, Ravaux has extended his Jurisdiction to the Gates of this City, and having reduced this Dutchy, which is indeed a very good morsel, the Town it self became so straightned, that it has been forc'd to open its Gates.

This is in incredible, Luxemburg the terror of Champagne! the Bulwark of Germany! the Defence of all the Neighbouring parts.

With all these qualities she has trod in the same steps as the rest.

And our good Friends the Hollanders have suffered it; those to whom thou gavest that name, and to whom I give it after thee?

They have suffer'd it; a certain good Gentleman has lull'd them asleep. He became inspired with the holy Spirit of France, which came over in Hogsheads. The Embassador shed it abroad with full Hands on him; and for recompence, this Embassador bears it to this Day on his Cloak: curst be such interest People! This Villain has sold his Country as the Butch­ers sell Meat in the Market: and cursed moreover be the—Well, I dare not say more, it is not always seasonable to say whatever a Man knows, especially when one is to speak of great Personages.

However, speak on, I'll warrant no harm shall come on it.

Ay, Monsieur Charles the Fifth, are you in a Dream, or do you think I am in one? Those warrants must needs be ve­ry good which those of the other World make; and where shall I go to seek my Surety?

I say speak on, my name alone is sufficient to protect thee from all Insults.

This is very pleasant truly, but I would willingly know one thing first; what reception did you give the Mar­quess of Grana below? Is he one of your Friends?

I never saw him, nor so much as heard of him; is he one of the Marquesses de Grana of Italy? I know that Fa­mily.

Yes.

Very well.

But are you not a Friend of his Friends, or of some of his Relations, for the Duke of Arschot married his Daugh­ter?

The House of Arschot has been ever suspected by me, so that this ought to be no obstacle in thy Mind; more­over, I swear to thee, that I know no body that is in his In­terests.

How you please me now! I had like to burst, like an old cracke Musket, never secret weigh'd so heavy with me: know then that he was a great Villain; in a word, the Man that betray'd the place.

Was he Governour of it?

No, hang him; a far honester Man than he: but for our sins, and those of your Family, he was Governour of all the Low Countries.

Go on pray.

Why, I tell you, he sold the place, and would have moreover sold all the rest, had not the Devil come behind him and broke his Neck; he had a Belly like a Drum; he would▪ Heaven be prais'd, needs drink the Spaw Waters, but they made him burst, to the great satisfaction of all honest People. His Widow did not much bemoan him: she had married him I know not how; 'tis true, 'twas her Mother that made the Match: however it be, married she is again to Count Eg­mont.

Thou speakest very clear, and one needs only Ears to understand thee. But let's come to our subject, the Marquess of Grana.

To have a full account of that Noble Captain, you must know he did not stay till the Hour of his Death to betray [Page 23] his Master. He was the greatest boaster, perhaps, as ever was; according to him, there was never an honest Man in the World but himself; and to appear such, there were no Tricks which he made not use of. I have heard Persons of good Worth and Credit say, That the Emperor after the Battel of St. Go­dard, having put his Army into Winter Quarters, he gave him notice under-hand, That all the Officers, from the highest to the lowest, were extreme vexatious to the People: he did more, he caused the People to complain of this themselves; and, seeing the business would come to an Inquest, he abstain'd from Pil­laging, tho' he had as good Fingers for it as another. This hapned just as he foresaw it, the Emperor caus'd Memorandums to be given him of all that was done; and there was only he, exempt from accusation.

He hereby insinuated himself into the Emperors Affections, acted the part of a distinterest Man, and to make this Prince believe he gain'd nothing by his service, he sold a considerable Estate in Bohemia: But how great (soever an Hypocrite a Man may be, it being hard to dissemble long) he lent him four hun­dred thousand Livers a while after; for which the Emperor still pays Use to his Executors.

In the mean time, believing he only saw clear, he continued to act the part of a Man zealous for the Emperors Interests; and this Prince having named him to go to Spain, he requested a private Hearing. The Emperor having granted it him, he threw himself at his Feet, and continuing in his Hypocrisie, be­sought him to observe two Persons he had at his Court; one of which, said he was too heavy a Man to be trusted with Affairs of Importance; and the other too mercurial and unfaithful to rely on: he design'd by the first, Prince Herman of Baden; and by the second, the Prince of Saxony. However the Emperor gave him good words, as believing he spake from the simplici­ty of his Heart, and he parted out of the Emperor's presence with great satisfaction. He did what he had to do in Spain, but in his return through France, Monsieur de St. Luc, the Kings Lieutenant in Guienne regal'd him, giving him to understand, that if he would impart to the King his Master, what Secrets past in the Emperor's Council, he should always be presented with one Thing or other which should countervail his pains. The Marquess made not himself more scrupulous than was [Page 24] necessary for raising his Market, and being both agreed of their business, the matter was faithfully transacted on both sides: There was nothing done in the Emperor's Council, of which France was not advertised.

In the mean time War being declared between these two States it was still the same thing, she had Intelligence of whatever past in the Council of War, so that it was no difficult matter for her to shield her self from the strokes intended her. In fine, the matter became so publick at Vienna and other places, altho' he thought it lay conceal'd, that a great Merchant of this City told one of his servants, not knowing however he belong'd to him, but who came to him to change Lewis d'Or's, that there was hardly any other Money to be seen now, that the Mar­quess de Grana receiv'd so many of 'em for his Treasons. France morever made him a present of a Sword garnisht with Diamonds, when the Imperial Army lay encampt at Mouzon in the Year 1676. and tho' it was brought him, as from the pre­sent Prince of Condé as an acknowledgment (according to what he said) that he had sent Horses to this Prince, it being known he had been well paid for them, so there were none but Fools that believ'd it: and in effect the Liberality of this Family ne­ver extended it self to the making of a Present of this nature, seeing she has enough to do to pay her Debts.

In the mean time the Emperor having been the only Person, who did not perceive his infidelity, sent him a second time into Spain, in Quality of Embassador extraordinary. Here it was, that continuing admirably well to play his Game, he decried in such a manner the Prince of Parma, who was sent Gover­nour-General of the Low Countries, that he put into all the Mi­nisters Heads that these Provinces were lost, without redempti­on, if he were not recall'd. There were several Councils held hereupon; and this Hypocrite, having had the time whilst all this past, to have Letters of Recommendation sent out of Ger­many for him, he had orders to go and drive away this Prince, and to take his place.

Scarce was this order dispatcht, when fearing it would be revoked, he took leave incognito of his Catholick Majesty, and parted the same Night. If we may believe the common report, he did wisely in being in such haste, seeing the Council of Spain had no sooner done the thing, but repented of it. But he being [Page 25] now in the Road, the business stuck at home, his Ministry being to be judg'd of by its Success.

France was soon advertis'd of his Catholick Majesties choice, and being on the point of attacking Luxembourg, she was very willing to make tryal whether his Preferment had not chang'd his Heart. She sent to meet him on the way, but he would not stay to explain himself there, but told the Currier, who present­ed him a Packet, that he should make some stay in England, un­der pretence of refreshing himself (for he was taking the Sea to finish his Voyage) and that there some Person should be ap­pointed, in whom he might put confidence. There was no failer of Money, that being already again sent him. So that France being sure of him, persisted in her Enterprize.

Thou knowest a great deal for a Man of thy Quality.

Hear the rest: The first thing he did, when he was arriv'd, was to draw out Troops from Luxembourg, under pretence of Garrisoning better Mons and Namur; although these two Places were in no danger; by reason these were the Bar the King had granted to the Hollanders by the Peace of Ni­miguen, and he knew as well as any other, that the King of France could not Attack them, without making them take up their Arms. But pretending to be ignorant, Luxembourg was immediately in­vested, whilst the most Christian King set himself at the head of an Army, to hinder its being succour'd; but no Body stirr'd. The Emperor was not in a condition to do it, having the Turks on his Shoulders; the Hollanders on their side were divided amongst themselves by the French Embassadors Intrigues, and the great Man I now mention'd. And now you have an account how the Place was lost.

What a Traitor was this! And did neither the Em­peror or King of Spain shew any resentment at this?

I know nothing of that, all that I know is, that the Governour took Post some days after for Spain, being furnisht with good Certificates against him, wherein all the Officers of his Garrison testified, that if the Marquiss de Grana had pleas'd, the Place would not have been lost. But there were Robbers Posted in the Road, who took away both his Papers and Mo­ney. This Robbery was committed near Orleans, through which he past, having obtain'd a Passport from the Most Christian King, on which it is good to make Reflection, that nothing can better convince us of the Intelligence above mention'd, than [Page 26] this pretended Theft, which was committed in a Kingdom, wherein that care is taken, that for this Twenty five or Thirty years, the like has never been known. But for a farther Mark, that these were not Robbers, the Money was restor'd to him at Lyons, his Papers being the only things retain'd.

These are very strange things thou tellest me of. How­ever I must needs say to thee, that Europe must be buried in a more than Cimmerian darkness, not to awake at the noise of so many horrid Enterprizes. But go on I pray thee.

Had you been here in the time when this hapned, you would have quickly got you back again to the other World, for you would have thought you had been in a Hell, such a gene­ral devastation and burning was here in all these Provinces.

And who was the Cause of all this?

The Most Christian King.

Why, what was the matter?

Because such was his good Will and Pleasure, and he had a mind to confound all Flanders.

If this be so, why dost call him the Most Christian King? how can this Name agree with him after such Out­rages, which are only for Barbarians, and the common Enemy of Christendom? But perhaps thou concealest from me, that 'twas through default of Payment of Contributions, in which Case its a common use introduced in War, to proceed to this extremity.

No, I conceal nothing from you, but shall tell you on the contrary, that the Contributions were not only paid, but that the Country having been threatned with burnings, after this, it taxed it self in a vast Sum to redeem it self from this violence. But the Payment was no sooner made, but that with the Sword in one hand, and the Faggot in another, the French shew'd us such a French Trick, as consumed all before them.

But what kind of People are these French then now a days? It seems to me they were heretofore human Creatures.

They would be so still, had they less success, but this renders these People intollerably insolent to all Nations, for they pretend now to be Masters every where; yet the King of France has reduced them to such misery, that it is a great thing if the Commonalty have Bread to eat. The Man of Quality is his Slave, through the necessity he is in of making his Court to him, he must spend all he is worth in attending him sometimes to [Page 27] the▪ Wars, other whiles in Journys, where he must be always at some new expence. Versailles moreover is a Place which is no less chargeable to him, he must keep House there, and also at Paris, which so wastes him, that he has not for the most part a Sous in his Pocket, he must now and then dine at other Folks Tables, otherwise he could not live. Here past by some days since, one of these honest Gentlemen, who swore to me that Monsieur the Dauphin had given him Money several times, when he playd and won, for himself and several other Persons of Qua­lity, whom he nam'd to me, a Piece of four Pistols, to bear their charges to Paris; he likewise told me, that each of them were so far from concealing their Misery, that it became a mat­ter of sport. Yet all these poor wretches are full of Rhodo­montadoes, No Prince was ever so great and brave as their King, and no Empire comparable to their Monarchy. If we descend from the Man of Quality to him of the Gown, it's near the matter the same under another Figure; they are overwhelm'd with Debts, and though he be not oblig'd to such expence, and consequently can better subsist, yet nothing is equal to his Oeconomy, be­cause scarcity has a long time reign'd in his House. He has un­dergone a Thousand Taxes under the name of Loans, and he fears every day more, without knowing where to have a Far­thing to pay them. This makes him chagrin and uneasie, and he sees no remedy any where, because he is hindred from selling Justice, which was heretofore a great help to People of his Pro­fession. Hereby is stopt the Complaints of the ordinary Peo­ple, who seeing themselves sheltred from the violence of those who are above them, comfort themselves in being squeez'd by the Master and not by the Servants. Yet if we make reflection on their Condition, it is as bad as that of others, if not worse. In the general misery of the Kingdom, they find not any one of whom they may get a livelyhood; if the great ones buy any thing it is on trust, or if there be any one amongst them who has ready Money, they haggle like the meanest Tradseman, being no longer edg'd with Generosity. In fine, if we examin Paris, where there should be more plenty, we shall find that all is in desolation from the highest to the lowest, every body discontent­ed, from the Mareschal of France to the Common Soldier, from the Duke and Peer to the meanest Courtier, from the first Pre­sident to the last Clark of the Pallace, and in fine, from the Chief Citizen to the poor Cobler.

If we cast our Eyes on the Country, we shall find it the same or rather worse, they cannot afford themselves Bread, they Plow its true, but they have not wherewithal to Sow; their Taxes are so excessive, that they have not Beds to lye on, or scarcely any sort of Cloaths to put on their Backs; and to whom does the Profit of all this come, but to the King? What slavery is this? What wretches are these? and yet as wretched as they are, you shall hear 'em continually extolling the Glory of their Monarch and the greatness of France.

Thou surprifest me greatly I profess by these Relations, for the French are in their own Natures a volatil, uneasie sort of People; prethee what's become of all the great Lords to whom they were wont to have recourse in their discontents?

There are no such now; for from the Dauphin to the meanest Gentleman, the King keeps them all so low, that they cannot move; besides he has his Spyes every where, who give him an account of what passes; and there being so many who have not whereon to subsist, there are several who would have heretofore blusht, had they been only suspected to have been of this employ, who now with the greatest earnestness sue for it in the sight of their Friends.

Monsieur Le Dauphin is a good Prince, who provided he has but opportunity to hunt, concerns himself no farther. The Duke of Orleans loves play, and to be hung with Ribbands from head to foot, to hear pleasant Tales, and to be nice and squeamish; as for any thing else he minds it not.

The Chevalier de Lorrain, who is his Favourite of many years, and who has sometimes spoke to him of the Court, with a great deal of liberty, although he himself be but an indifferent Man, is now wholly chang'd by a secret Pension he receives thence; being the first and chief Spy whom the King keeps near him, and though his Majesty has others, its only to be certain that he is faithful to him.

The Prince of Conde does not degenerate from his Fathers Ge­nerosity, and the vertue of his Ancestors; but in Inheriting their good Qualities, he also inherits their bad, he is covetous to excess, and in this unhappy Passion he sees nothing worthy of him, but the desire of treasuring up; provided he can lock himself close in with Gourville, to cast up how much his Revenue is encreast since the last year, and what course may be taken still to aug­ment it, this is all he thinks of. The King who knew dextriously [Page 29] to let the time pass wherein he was greedy of Laurels, without giving him any employ, does not fear now that he is past Forty five, that he Plots how to disturb the State; he is well pleas'd in seeing him mind his own Affairs, and the Process which the Succession of Mademoiselle de Guise has entangled him in. He knows very well that when a Man is possest by these two Passi­ons, they sufficiently fill the Head, and scarce leave room for other Thoughts.

The Prince de Conti has hitherto minded only his Pleasures, although the deceased Prince of Conde endeavour'd to make him understand several times, that a Prince of the Blood should steer another Course, if he intended to be in any sort conside­rable. 'Tis not yet seen that he has prevail'd on his Mind to make his profit of so judicious a Lesson, perhaps in time he may think better of it, but till that happens, it will be to penetrate into the future, to say that he can be ever the Head of a Party, unless this Rank be given him for his being a Prince of the Blood.

And these are the Princes of the Royal Family of France; for I take no notice of Monsieur the Dauphin's Children, of the Duke de Chartres only Son of the Duke of Orleans, nor of the Duke of Bourbon, who are all so young, that it would be but meer mockery, to have recourse to them in an Affair as this we speak of. I have willingly given you their Characters, to shew you that they are not like those which were in your time, there are none among these like the Constable of Bourbon, who was such a great help to you in the Wars which you had with Francis I. and without whom, perhaps you had not met with such success. Don't desire me to proceed any farther in the Anatomising of this Kingdom; should I come to speak to you of Princes that they call Strangers, I should have such wretchedness to describe to you, as would raise blushing in you, and confusion in me, in the relating them. Instead of those Dukes of Guise, so famous in the History of the past Age, I can shew you none but Persons enervated with softness and debauches, Persons that have nothing of Princes in them but the Name, and who between you and I, cannot remember themselves without a self-condemnation: Such a Portrait as this is must needs be unpleasant, and we had better draw the Curtain before it. I must do the same in re­spect of the other Grandees of the Kingdom. And what will you think, when instead of the Montmorancys, Chatillons, and so many other great Personages in your time, I can shew you only [Page 30] Men that are meer Slaves, not only of the Monarchy, but of the Ministry? It being a Custom establisht among them, to make Alliances now in Rich Families, which is the cause that that greatness of mind, by which their Ancestors were heretofore so recommendable, is not to be found amongst them; they see eve­ry thing, they suffer every thing without saying a word, and are so far from opposing it, as that they be the first who approve it, through a base complacency. It is no longer the time wherein they may speak their minds to the King, they only busie them­selves now with Trifles, and among so many Dukes, of which the Court of France consists, scarcely is there to be found one, on whom one may reckon, if it concern'd only the King of his Salvation, to the prejudice of a Minister: I can find on the other hand, enough who will procure him Mistresses if he has occasi­on for them, and even without seeking them in another Fami­ly, would take them out of their own Bed. I don't say this by rote, I know what I say as well as another.

This Prince being become in love with a Princess not far hence, and intending to testifie his Love in a manner a little fa­miliar, as this did not please her, so she repell'd him a little scur­vily, without remembring he was not wont to be treated with such Caresses. In leaving her, he told it her Father, desiring him not to send her to Court; but he instead of being like her, was one of those Princes I lately described; told him she was a foolish Girl, and that she had lost her Fortune, and not content with this Answer, he went again to His Majesty, excusing what had past, telling him in formal Terms, that if he pleas'd to com­mand it, he would himself bring her into his Arms.

And these are the Dukes and Princes to be met with in this Court, one of them knows perfectly well to Cog a Dye, and has his Trade from Father to Son; another carries on a de­bauch to excess; and having told his Wife several times there is no true Pleasure but in Disorder, he has so well insinuated this Lesson into her, that she puts it every day in practice, every one is welcome to her, whether he comes to see her, or one of her Friends, she takes a particular satisfaction in doing her Neighbour a Pleasure, affirming this ought to be the humour of all Civil People. Another lives without Faith, without Law, and without Religion, and though he draws near Sixty, he is as young, as impious, as if he had never time to know himself. Another runs from one Wench to another, from Morning till [Page 31] Night; another to the Churches, believing it good to appear De­vout to get Credit.

I could make you a Picture of all the rest, but it being suf­ficient to judge of the whole Piece by a Pattern, it would be to tire you to relate to you still the same thing; one is form'd from the Mould of another, and excepting two, one of which has high Thoughts, and worthy of a better Fortune than he has; and the other which is a very worthy Person, although the Son of a Father who was a Fool to his Grave, I shall not pass for a Calumniator, when I shall say, that the rest is mixt Ware. Not but that there are some among them who act the Parts of honest Men, but I am afraid that he who shall look well into the mat­ter, will find more Hypocrisie in their Actions than real Piety; Not that I am for those affected Devotions, which are perform'd to dazle the Eyes of the People, for I love rather to say a Pater heartily in my Closet, than a thousand in the sight of others. When one is so devout, commonly he is not so busied in carry­ing on Intrigues. Yet those I speak of are in them over head and ears, and are mad if any of them chance to be discovered. In speaking of this, methinks I see one of our late Governours, whom I supris'd one day, having a great String of Beads, wound, as it were, about his Wrist, and yet with the same Hand carest very nearly an exceeding handsom Lady. It's true, these Beads of his were as familiar to him as the Monks Breviary is to him.

Perhaps these Beads had a certain Vertue which thou knowst not of; there is a certain Indian Wood which 'tis said does wonders, and perhaps his Beads were made of it, and he was minded to try the Experiment.

All this is useless, and without vigor love cannot last long; whatever Chaplet a Man has, were it of this Wood you speak of, it would have no effect on me if I was a Woman, unless I was perswaded it had this Vertue to make a Man vigo­rous, all Ladys having great esteem for that; and I remember that a certain Monsieur being arriv'd in these Parts some Months ago, all the fine Dames of Brussels were for being of his Friends, not that he was an handsomer Man than another, but because there were reported marvellous things of him. The deceased Prince of Conde who had heard of him as well others, desirous to know whether this was true, askt his Father one day the Question, who is still alive, or I am much mistaken; but this [Page 32] good Man, who was no Courtier, answer'd him seriously he could not tell, seeing his Son had never made him his Confident in that matter; but this I know, saith he, that if it be so, he has it from his Mother, not from me.

Thou relatest matters very pleasantly, but dost not mind how much thou forgettest thy self in thy large Discourse of the Court of France, having quite lost the Subject we were upon, neither do I know how thou canst return to it.

This will be no such hard matter, and to speak freely, as old as I am, I do not so greatly doat as you think for. Does a Man talk idly, when he recites the Condition of an Enemies Country? and how can you deal with it, unless you know its strength and weakness? I must tell you farther, though you still persist in your Opinion, that France has moreover other Male­contents, than those I now mentioned; and though I have told you, that the King of France has compast his end, in laying low the Hugonots, yet this is an Hydras Head which still produces something that is new, they are only extirpated in appearance; and should they meet with a favourable opportunity, it's not to be doubted but that they would act the same Part, as under the Reign of Charles IX. They have only forsook their Religion in appearance, and though I reckon it among impossible things for a French Man ever to make a good Spaniard, yet I believe this is more feasible than for them ever to become good Catholicks.

Well! prethee what consequence dost pretend to draw hence?

One that to me appears infallible, to wit, that it is not at all the French Interest to make War at this time; he can­not but be afraid, that whilst he shall be busied without, there may arise within his Kingdom such a Faction, as shall not be in his power to allay.

Still methinks thou wandrest from our Subject, and hast no Logical Head.

Ah Master Charles the Fifth, is it for you to pretend to so much Reason, who have no Brains? Death has dryed up all your Bones, and a Dogs head and yours make one as good a Figure as the other; don't you perceive that being to discourse with you on a great affair now in hand, and of which I already have given you some hints by the by, I pretended to prepare you to rellish my Reasons? I have told you that the King of France would have made an Elector of Cologn, and a Prince of Liege; you [Page 33] know of what consequence it is to your Family to have these two Persons in her Interests. The pains you were at to bring over the Cardinal de la Mark, who possest this last Dignity, is a proof sufficiently convincing. So now he that is at present on the Im­perial Throne, according to your politic's, has left no Stone unturn'd to put by a blow so prejudicial to the Empire: He has succeeded, seeing the Cardinal de Furstemburg, who is the King of France's Creature, has been rejected by the Chapter of Liege, which has chosen the Baron d' Elderen one of its Members; and Prince Joseph Clement of Bavaria is chosen Elector of Cologn. I have told you that Luxembourg is taken, the Moselle and the Saar are also subjected by the Forts which the King of France has rai­sed and does still raise; Treves is dismantled, and the poor Elector is made a Frenchman against his will. This was cause sufficient for the Empire, and all others in Christendom, to betake them­seves to Arms. Had the Cardinal of Furstemburg gain'd his Point, what security could the Empire expect from so trouble­som a Neighbour? How many Creatures must France have gain'd, when it should be considered, that one may by her means not only be rais'd to the highest Dignities, but be maintain'd in them against all Right and Reason? Is there any ordinary Gen­tleman, but must turn all his desires towards her, hoping she will do for him whatever she intended to do for his Eminency, who some twenty years past had not wherewithal to maintain a Ser­vant? What an encouraging Prospect is this for all clear headed and ambitious Men? In fine, O Monarch without a Crown, re­call a little that vivacity of Spirit for which you have been hereto­fore so fam'd, and you'l excuse all my tedious Transports on this Subject.

What wouldst have me say? The Emperor must pe­rish rather than not maintain the Legitimacy of the Prince of Bavaria's Election.

But pray how shall he maintain it? He has enough to do in Hungary, our King has few Troops, and less Money to raise others: the Princes of the Empire are slow in their Re­solutions. There are only the Hollanders, who are in a condi­tion of resistance; but do you think they will go and throw themselves into the Lyons Mouth? Their single Forces are not sufficient to withstand those of France, and they can do nothing without help.

The Emperor should temporise, and in the mean time [Page 34] make Peace in Hungary, to the end that all these Forces being re-united may bring the Enemy to reason.

But all this time the Cardinal of Furstemberg, who never wants French Money, fails not to fortifie his places: you know, moreover, that Possession is a Title according to Law. The thunderings of the Vatican signify nothing now adays, unless they be backt by an Army.

It's true, and therefore a Pope who knows how to manage his Authority, knows what time they are efficacious in; for in France People are the least bigotted in any of the Roman Countries. This Nation acknowledges, indeed, the Pope to be the visible Head of the Church, yet only as a matter of Policy, she is too subtle to make this a matter of Faith; she knows only that this has been judg'd most expedient to preserve Unity amongst the Members, but as soon as ever a Pope requires too great a belief, she presently refers him to her Parliament, where these four-corner'd Cap People maintain it according to their fancy; and how many Bulls have been burnt by the Hands of the common Hangman?

As far as I can see, it's not only in these times that this Assembly is Heretical; I thought only Monsieur Talon, Ad­vocate General, had been the scabby Sheep that infected the rest, for he made such a Pleading some Months since as smelt dan­gerously of the Faggot, he treated our Holy Father, as if he had been but a meer Don Quixot; so that having said of him all that is proper to say of one fall'n into madness, he made him moreover pass for a favourer of Hereticks: In fine, I believe it was not long of him that he was not deposed; but knowing this could not be done in one day, I have heard say, he is great­ly troubled that Voisin and her Disciples were put to Death, as knowing that one touch with their Hands, would have been capable of obtaining Remission of their Sins; at least, as to the Temporal pains of them.

Who is then this Voisin thou speakest of? It seems by thy talk as if I should know her.

A very worthy vertuous and generous Person, if ever there was one in the World, bequeathing Successions to those who needed them, and procuring an entrance into Pa­radise for others who were not in hast to go thither; but as Ver­tue is not always recompenc'd, she was charg'd with doing all this by means of a certain Powder; so that having been thrown [Page 35] into Prison, she had the same chance as the Bulls I now spake of met with.

Which is to say in one word, that she very fairly poy­son'd People.

You are in the right.

And thou wouldst hereby insinuate, that they would have poyson'd the Pope.

Volcart. I do not wholly affirm that; but that which I would say is, That the Court would not be much troubled at his taking a Voyage into the other World; is this such a criminal desire, and can one wish him any thing more advantagious? You say not a word; is it that you who have been Emperor make such a great reckoning of this quality, that you prefer it to a place in Para­dise? If this be so, it must be acknowledged, that here are a great many People deceived, for I cannot believe there have been dispatcht from time to time, on any other design, so many Princes and Princesses who died, some suddenly, others with a little more knowledge of the cause. In effect, all this has hap­ned to 'em from the part of their good Friends, whose only de­sign is to make them more happy in the other World than they could ever arrive to in this.

The deceased Madam the Dutchess of Orleans began the Dance; but she had not time given her to recollect her self, for loving the World as she did, it was fear'd, that through weak­ness, she might obstruct her own happiness; it has been pro­bably the same in respect of the deceased Charles King of Eng­land, who was known to be too great a lover of his Pleasures to so easily quit them, if he could help it. But there was not such quick work made with the last Elector Palatine. It being Catholicks that undertook this business, and the desire of ma­king Converts reigning very much with them, they have there­fore given him time to think on his Conscience, so that it is not their fault, if they could not vanquish his hard Heart. They comfort themselves the more easily, that he could not carry his States, whence they had a design to drive out the Hereticks; and as they could not attain hereunto, but by his Death, so we must not think it strange, if they advanced it, and glory in it as a meritorious action. In effect, whatever is done in regard to Religion cannot be ill, which is the Morals of the good Fa­thers the Jesuits, God preserve us from 'em, and keep 'em from coming near us; for had I either House or Land joyning to [Page 36] theirs, they would quickly strip me of them for the use of the Altar.

It must be granted thou runnest over a great many matters in a short time.

I acknowledg it; but I deal with you otherwise than I would with another, whom I was sure to see another time; how know I, how soon you'll vanish? I therefore deal out my Merchandise to you by whole-sale, lest you should escape me. And therefore I must tell you again, tho' you blame me afresh for it, that it is not a Year since, that by a storke of Charity like to those I now mentioned, the second Son of the deceased Duke of Brandenburg was sent to Paradise. It was fear'd lest he should become one day Elector, and inebriate himself with the vanities of the World, which were seen to prevail on him. It's said his eldest Brother was to have taken the same Voyage, who is now on the Throne; and in fine, he must thither sooner or latter, but by small Journeys. However this will not hinder him from leaving behind him a Prince of his Blood, to Inherit his Countries, seeing the Princess his Wife has lately given him a Son, to the great content of all honest People.

Thou surprisest me, and as far as I can see, it's not on­ly in France where there are Voisins.

This is not a fit name for these Monsters; there was another Woman of a greater Reputation than she, which was the Marquess of Brinvilliers, Daughter of the Lieutenant Civil of Paris. She poyson'd her own Father, her two Brothers, her Sister, and her Husband; and for so many famous Facts, her name remains consecrated, to express whatever is most rare in this Diabolical Science. A small quantity of Madam Brinvil­liers Medicinal Preparations will make way for any Succession; so that it's wondered how the Duke of Brandenburg has escaped. God preserve this present Pope, for should he prove otherwise than favourable to the Court of France, he is in danger of Apo­plectick Fits. Yet, as Pious People resign themselves, not only to the Will of God, but make advantage of all conditions, this old Gentleman can cough when he pleases, especially when he is importuned by Demands, to which he is not minded to an­swer. It was told me some days since, That the Cardinal d' Estrée, who lies at Rome soliciting the Affairs of France, has given this Cough a thousand times to the Devil, and would have given the Cougher too, had he believed he would have gone to him.

Well, to thy subject again, this is sufficiently known.

What is my subject? for I confess at present I com­prehend so much, that I know not whereabouts I am. How­ever, let's march on softly, and perhaps I shall recollect my self. Well, pray tell me Master Charles the Fifth, then you think the King of France does not much matter the Thunders of the Va­tican?

I do believe so.

Yet he acts so greatly the Bigot at present, that it is marvellous what they say of him.

No matter.

We are then very happy that the matter does not wholly depend on him, it is, thanks be to God, in the Hands of People brought up in other Maxims than you Earthly Mo­narchs; you are commonly rockt with a Machiavel in one Hand, so that you suck in with your Milk this Wretches Po­licy. You have not, for the most part of you, either God, or Faith, or Law, altho' you have nothing else in your Mouthes. We have to do with Charions, People brought up in the fear of God and of Rome, Persons of an upright Heart, a lively Faith, an irreproachable Conversation; in a word, on whom we may rely, when the question is to decide between Rome and France.

Perhaps so.

What do you mean by this perhaps so, as well as this snearing giggle which accompanies it?

Prethee be not out of humour at my smiling, I mean thee, nor no body else any harm; only let me tell thee, thou ex­pectest Miracle to be wrought out of season.

Why the Devil are you so given to detraction? how can you have so ill an opinion of so venerable a body as that of the Chanons? Ay, Venerable! is not that the name given 'em? And the Bishops themselves, do they call them otherwise, they that know 'em better than any?

Whatever pompous Title is given, does not hinder a Man from being otherwise at bottom. Those that commit the greatest Injustices, yet are baptized by the name of Just. Ano­ther that shall violate whatever is most Divine and Sacred, shall be called Pious. Another that—

Ah, say no more, I know you have reason; I re­member that in the Pleading of Monsieur Talon, whom I not [Page 38] long since mention'd, he said (in speaking of the King his Ma­ster) a King so Pious! Yet wherein confists this Piety? is it in that he has taken away another Man's Wife, and openly kept her in the Face of all the World? or, is it that he keeps her at Court to serve as a scandal to all those who behold her? Is it in his other Adulteries which he has committed, as well before, as since his pretended Conversion? Who is it that knows not the History of Mademoiselle de M...? And the Exile of the eldest Son to the Marquess de Louvois? Did it happen for any thing else than for speaking too freely his Mind? Who likewise knows not why the Marquess de S..... has had the Office of keeping the Crown Jewels, which is worth twenty thousand Crowns a Year? And that Monsieur Pelletier, Controller-General, who had laid it down in the King's Hands, thought to make it fall into those of the Marquess de Louvois his good Friend and Be­nefactor. It was because that his Wife past through a certain de­gree, and gave an hour or two of her time to this Monarch; what an happiness to have thus an handsom Wife! All Versailles might be swallow'd up in ruine for the Iniquity of a Father, as well as that apartment which had like to have overwhelmed Monsicur Bontemps in its fall. This makes all forgotten. Present as many Memorials as you will after this, not one of 'em is read; or if they be, it's only to make a sacrifice of 'em to the Person beloved. Let one of the Commissaries be found tardy, and to justifie himself, he shews he has done nothing but by his Masters Order; he is not believ'd, tho' all the Court are ready to testi­fie for his Honesty, and tho' he be generally bewaised by all People, this will not hinder his disgrace. He must undergo the Punishment, he is a Rogue, a Rascal, a great Villain; in a word, deserves Hanging, were they not more favourable to him than his Crime deserves. Yet to speak freely, as matters are carried, he is more imprudent than criminal. Having had so long to do with a Minister, ought he not to know that the present Reign requires a Man to be furnisht with an handsom Wise? With this Furniture a Man cannot fail, for if she be not for the Masters turn, she will serve some one else, who will have favour enough to make his assistance necessary.

Truly, Master Porter, you prate roundly for a Man of your Mediocrity: have you heard all these Passages at your Gate? do not you know how cautious a Man must be of talking matters of this Nature?

Ay, ay, so I am, of what passes here. I know how to shut mine Eyes on occasion, and not open 'em but when my Interest requires it. And therefore, having been already so free with you, I shall further tell you, that when a Woman comes here disguis'd in Mans Cloaths, I leave always one corner of mine Eyes open, to see whether she be handsom or homely; yet I al­ways put by evil thoughts which may arise: which makes me often tell my self, Thou art a damn'd censorious Fellow, thou art one of those who cannot see a Man and a Woman go to Bed to­gether, but presently they must be naught; tho' I often know Persons, yet I tell my self I am mistaken, yet I could call 'em by their Names and Surnames, which makes me sometimes per­swade my self they come here for some State business. I also sometimes lend my Ear, not through curiosity, but to confirm my self in my Opinion, and hearing now and then some Sighs, and knowing that our State Affairs go not well, I take matters by the best handle, so that instead of turning things on the side of Love, as another perhaps would do, I turn them on the side of Affection, which such may have for the publick Welfare; and attribute hereunto this Affliction.

This is very honest, and herein thou dost thy Duty.

Ah, if I were at the Court of France, I should make a rare Minister... To what purpose are all those Intrigues? and would it not be better the publick knew less of 'em? It dis­gusts a Man when he has satisfied his fancy, for a Woman to talk to him of Marriage, for he will fear thereby to make himself the laughing-stock of the World; but when he can imagine no bo­dy knows any thing of his Affairs, he goes with his Head listed up, and often Marries an old Whore, as creditibly as if she was an honest Woman. I have heard of a Duke and Peer of France, who died not long since, who understood so well this Maxim, that he would not let his own Domesticks know what Trade he drove, altho' it be a hard matter to conceal it. He had hired an House in Grenelle-street, whose back-side joyn'd to another, where there was a very handsom Woman, and very modest to look on; so that having caused a passage to be made from one Apartment to the other, they frequented without any bodies perceiving them. This Duke's Wife dying, to his great content, they were Married together, and liv'd very happily, for all that I know.

To hear-thee talk, one would think thou hast lain all thy life-time buried in Matter; whereas thou shouldst raise thy Thoughts, and consider that the Mind has infinitely more charms than the Body.

So that when you made Love to the Queen of Han­gary, and that other Woman whose Husband you murthered; this was all for the sake of their Minds. Ah, Master Charles, how you would Hoodwink the World! what necessity was there of killing this poor Man, who would not have hinder'd you from enjoying a Thing to which he had no more right than another? You were for concealing your Intrigues in all times, not like Lewis the Great, who was so far from hiding his Vices, that he carried along with him, openly where ever he went, his La Valicre, Montespan, Maintenon, and Fontanges. It's true, he now practises according to your example, having a pri­vate back-stairs for such occasions. But do not you know, how the Devil became an Hermit when he grew old? And this is per­haps the occasion too why you read me these Lessons; but I would willingly know at what Age you your self put them in practise.

And at what Age wilt thou become wise, thou that speakest?

I will not become so, for I pretend to be so already. But is it not very fair, that you who have learnt so many things from me, should make me a requital by intrusting me with your Secret to communicate to your Descendants, seeing you told me in the beginning, that this was the reason why you set out from the other World? for I'll go as far as Madrid to reveal it to our Monarch.

My time is out, and I have leave to stay no longer, I must bid thee farewell.

O he is vanisht indeed; how suddenly is he gone? Ah, good Sir, let me have but one word more with you, let me have but some token that may make the World believe that I have discours'd with you. But you are dumb as well as invisible. I must blaze abroad this Conversation, tho' all the World▪ will count me a Fool.