[Page] [Page]

CƲRIA POLITIAE

Justitia

Prudentia

Fortitudo

Temperantia

LONDON Printed for HUMPHREY MOSELEY in St Paul's Churchyard

1654

[Page] [Page] Curia Politiae: OR, THE APOLOGIES OF SEVERALL PRINCES: Justifying to the WORLD Their most Eminent Actions, by the strength OF REASON, And the most Exact RULES OF POLICIE.

Written in FRENCH by the acurate Pen of MONSIEƲR de SCƲDERY, Governour of NOSTRE-DAME.

And now faithfully Render'd into ENGLISH.

With the FIGURES of many Emperors and Kings.

LONDON, Printed for Humphrey Moseley at the sign of the Prince's-Arms in Saint Pauls Church-yard, M. DC. LIV.

TO His Most Excellent Majesty CHARLES By the Grace of God, of England, Scotland, France, and Ireland King, Defender of the Faith, &c.

SIR,

THE Politicks of these Illustrious Princes adventured to be seen in England in Your Royal Ab­sence; having no splendour to Countenance them, but the beams of their own worth; nor any Patron to shelter them but true Honour and Renown: yet a good Success hath waited on them through some tempestuous years, wherein they have been entertained by many of Your Majesties Subjects: who Amazed or satisfied with the Piercing and Transcendent Reasons of these Earthly Gods, have (Probably) better learned their duties towards their Soveraigns; and have found out a more even Path to guide them to Loyalty and true Obedience to Gods Anointed. Amongst these more Glorious He­roes, some have been Your Royal Ancestors [Page] and Predecessors, as King Henry the Seventh, King Henry the Eighth, and King James of Bles­sed Memory: Others have been either of Your Bloud, or in Alliance and Amity with Your Predecessors. And King Lewis the Fourth of France, hath not only been an Example and Pa­rallel of Your Troubles; but may prove a good Counsellor and Pilot to guide Your Peoples hearts to their Native Duties; and so more easily and joyfully to raise a degree to Elevate and Preserve Your Majesty in Your Illustrious Throne. These twenty Princely Oratours; now speaking English (as they have already French) expect Your Gracious Patronage throughout all Your Majesties Dominions; over which, that You may exceed all Your Ancestors with a most Glorious and Happy Reign, is the hearty Prayer of

Your Majesties Devoted Chaplain and Loyal Subject Edward Wolley. D. D.

THE AUTHOUR TO THE READER.

IT is not one of the least remarkable assurances of the sage Conduct of those, who Govern this Monarchy, to see how their high Prudence and incomparable Wisdom remove the Enemies of France so far from our Kingdom, that the Governours of the Fron­tiers have leisure to study and compose Books. It is in the fruition of this profound repose, wherein I enjoy, even in the midst of the Tu­mults of War, an opportunity to render in some degree, my retiredness more profitable, by composing this Work, which I now expose to Publique Censure and Approbation. I believe (Reader) though Fortune was not pleased to ordain me for the management of more sublime affairs; yet she gave me leave to see, that if she had pleased to call me, I might happily, have ac­quitted [Page] my self without dishonour or disgrace; and that he who caused Lewis the fourth to speak so nobly, and so many other Kings, might have bin capable to serve Lewis the fourteenth, at least, under their orders and directions, who councel so successfully, if in stead of a Command in Re­mote extremities of the State, and most imbroi­led borders and limits, Fortune had vouchsa­fed to call me to Court, and there appointed my imployments. In effect, though naturally I had no Genius or disposition to noble enterprises, and had contracted from my birth an absolute stupidity; yet so many great Princes whom I have had the honour to attend, so many splen­dent Courts which I have seen, so many people, and so different in their Manners, Customs, and Laws, which I have visited, so many Armies, Wars, and various affairs, wherein I have been engaged, both voluntarily and under command; so many Grand Personages, with whom I have had society and friendship, so many remarkable events that I have observed, together with those precious reliques of Prudence exhausted out of the Greeks and Romans. All this (I say) is suffi­cient to inform my judgment, and for Art and education to compleat in me, what Nature could not. And I think (Reader) it were not possible for me to revive Kings to a quick and lively dis­course, without some competent abilities in me: and I dare presume to believe, though my design appear full of confidence, yet it may be excused from being censured rash.

I have then made choice of twenty Princes (out [Page] of universal History) and have selected the most eminent actions of their reigns for the subject of this discourse; endeavouring herein to dive and pierce into those reasons and causes which over­ruled them to their resolutions. In this I seem to be (in a kind) admitted to the Cabinet Coun­cel of these Princes (who are in their graves,) and by most probable conjectures, have hinted at those profound reasons which so directed them. Thus guided by the light of History, I have es­sayed to discover those secret and concealed my­steries of State, and so to remonstrate the events of Councels and grand Enterprises, undertaken with so high deliberations. To this end, that if Princes and Monarchs admit not of instruction rising from their inferiors; yet that they may not refuse it flowing from their equals. This being composed by some Politick reflexions, which are as the muscles and nerves of the body, and re­sembling all the several parts, make up and dis­cover (Reader) the aim and end of this Work.

Now whether the Builder have the skil to make this high design practical, and so to cause this stately Piece admired and loved according to the beauty of the Model; it is for you (Rea­der) to judge; for it becomes no one to be Judge and Supreme in his own affairs.

I have confin'd my self to these 7 or 8 last ages of Time in the election of these Princes, & those others, which may follow in the second part of this Work. The rather, because already so many learned Historians having travelled to Macedo­nia, have written so accurately and fully, that [Page] nothing is left that may farther relate the Gran­dure and magnificence of Alexander the Great. So many exquisite Authors, (conversant in the affairs of the Persians and Medes) have follow'd Cyrus to the Conquest of Asia, that nothing of ra­rity can be superadded: and so many learned Pens have written of Caesar, & commented on his Com­mentaries, that nothing can be found out to more illustrate those relations. It may be said of those renowned ages of Antiquity in the words of So­lomon, That nothing is new under the Sun: and that they have been so often examined, that those rare and precious subjects are rendred now more fa­miliar, and so less admired. As I then walk in a path less obvious to common foot-steps, so am I restrained to more confined and choicer limits; wherefore I have not troubled their famous um­bra's, whom an innocent kind of Magick hath so often summoned from their Royal Tombs: but leaving those Princely Hero's to the repose of their sepultures, I have presumed to summon others from their retirements of obscurity, to present their Noblest Actions to the light.

I am assured (Reader) their apparition will not affright you with their Presence, nor their voice daunt your soul: I conjure you then to hear, and to give a favourable audience to these illu­strious dead Princes. This is a respect due to their high qualities, and which they exactly look for from those who are most rude and unci­vil to Thrones, Scepters, and Crowns.

A CATALOGUE Of the several Princes discoursed of in this VOLUME.

I.
THE Emperor Charls the Fifth, to his Royal Sisters, pag. 1
II.
Lewis the Fourth, King of France, to his revolted Subjects, 11
III.
Matthias Corvin King of Hungary, to the Ambassadors of the Republick of Venice, 20
IV.
Mahomet the Second the Grand Seignior, to his Janissaries, 33
V.
Ferdinando, King of Castile, to the Duke Nagera, 41
VI.
Don Henry, King of Castile, to Count D'Alba Tormes, 50
VII.
Don Sanche, King of Castile, to Count Garcia de Gabria, 60
VIII.
Emanuel, King of Portugal, to John de Menesais, 67
IX.
Charls the Ninth, King of France, to John de Monluc, 76
X.
Don Ramir, King D'Oviedo, to the Grand Councel of his Kingdom, 84
[Page] XI.
James the First, King of England, to the Duke of Lenox pag. 91.
XII.
Henry the seventh King of England, to Thomas Lord Stanley, p. 102
XIII.
Soliman the Second, the Grand Seignior to Rustan Bassa, 113
XIV.
Scanderbeg, King of Albania, to his Captains and Councel of Officers, 122
XV.
Henry the Third King of France, to Pibrac and Philip de Portes, 132
XVI.
Henry the Eight, King of England, to Thomas Lord Crom­well Lord Chamberlain of England, 145
XVII.
Pepin le 'Bref, King of France, to the Archbishop of Maience, 154
XVIII.
Tamberlane, Emperor of Tartary, to Axalla his Lieutenant General, 163
XIX.
Hugh Capet, King of France, to Frederick Count De Metz, 171
XX.
Gustavus Adolphus, King of Swedeland, to Oxerstern his Lord Chancellor. 179

A TABLE Of the severall Subjects and Debates in this VOLUME.

I.
WHether the Emperor did judiciously in a Voluntary sur­render of the Empire?
II.
Whether a Prince ought to speak high and boldly to an Army and Subjects newly reconciled?
III.
Whether it be lawful to be perfidious by a false and fraudulent Example?
IV.
Whether it be lawful to prye into, and censure the actions of So­veraign Princes?
V.
Whether all ways of Agrandising a mans self be lawful and com­mendable?
VI.
Whether it be expedient to force an Enemy to dispair?
VII.
Whether, health ought to be preferred above a Crown?
VIII.
Whether the Publick ought to be preferred above the private interest?
IX.
Whether those who are in the Princes suspicion, ought to be re­moved and distanced?
X.
Whether it be consistent with Soveraignty to be divided and communicable.
[Page] XI.
Whether Princes ought to remember and revenge injuries and affronts offered them before they ascended the Royal Throne?
XII.
Whether it were better to embrace a Crown in the right of Con­quest, or as lawful heir, or in the right of marriage of the Princess an Heretrix to the Crown?
XIII.
Whether faith ought to be kept inviolably by Princes?
XIV.
Whether a Prince may break his faith with another Prince who hath first violated his?
XV.
Whether an elected King ought to acquit and leave those Sub­jects, who have made choice of him, and embrace another Crown more considerable?
XVI.
Whether all Princelike actions ought not to be sacrificed, and to aim at true Glory and Renown?
XVII.
Whether it be permitted to create himself a King?
XVIII.
Whether it be not true Policy to humble the high and insolent, and to remit and pardon the submiss and prostrated Subjects?
XIX.
Whether it be good for a Prince to have a chief Minister of State superintendent to all others?
XX.
Whether Conquerors ought to expose themselves to the common and ordinary perils of War?

Curia Politiae.

IF the hearts of all men in general (as the Scriptures testifie) are so unsearchable that none but God can find them out, or pe­netrate and discover the secrets thereof. Certainly the hearts of Princes are so pro­found Abysses, as all the subtlety of the People cannot sound or fathom: The hearts of Kings are in the hands of God. It is Gods own assurance, and he alone is able to discern and know them. As Kings reign by him alone, so he alone knows by what Maxims he will have them rule. The distance is so far betwixt us and the Prima Mobilia, that their motions are indiscernable to us; they train and lead us on after them, but we neither know how nor why we follow them: And as they are infinitely above us, so if our curiosity should soare aloft to discover the wayes and ends of their Revolutions, the most elevated spi­rits would find themselves infinitely low and short in their capacities.

If God (as he names himself) be an invisible God, Prin­ces who are the living Images of God, are in that attribute like unto him. The Israelites sometimes said, We have seen the living God, we shall dye and not live. It is little less dan­gerous to peep and prye into the secrets of Princes. If God be a consuming fire, and is concealed in the fiery flaming bush, the Majesty of Soveraigns hath a near resemblance to this inaccessible light, which never suffers it self entirely vi­sible no more then God himself. And if the splendor of the Celestial Majesty commanded the Cherubims to cover their [Page] faces with their wings: the glory of terrestrial Soveraignty is so illustrious and bright, that it not only transcendeth, but diminisheth all inferiour lights and luminations. The strongest sighted Eagles are too weak to dare to look sted­fastly on these glorious Suns. These mortal Deities may then say (but in all humble reverence to the great King of Hea­ven,) I am what I am, without a farther discovery of them­selves, and their Royal pleasure. And the derrogation is less, or none at all; seeing the holy Scriptures have admitted Kings to be stiled Gods on Earth. The Fable of Prometheus teacheth little less, but that it is highly dangerous to desire to know the depth of Princes thoughts, and so to have a will to resemble those most sublime Persons. Give me what you please, (said a sage Courtier to his Lord and Master) seeing you give me not leave to have a share in your secrets. Notwith­standing the great danger of tasting the forbidden fruit, there is a natural Curiosity in all men to know Good and Evil; which hath derived it self from the first man to all posterity. As for the concealments of secrets, they enflame the mind to a greater ardor of knowing them: And it is received as a common Maxim, In great enterprises, it is noble enough to dare to wish them. And the more Princes endeavour to conceal their thoughts, the more the people labour to divine them.

Physick is not the sole Art, which may be termed, The Art or Mystery of Conjectures: Vulgar Policie hath no other Foundations, and worketh by no other Principles. Tiberius thought fit to conceal himself amongst the Rocks of the Isle of Caprea, and to envelop his true resentment of affairs, un­der the veil of ambiguous terms: and out of these equivo­cal notions, Rome toiled to explicate his most enigmatical obscurities, and mysterious Oracles. When the Thunder­bolt fell on Sejanus head, the most ignorant of all the peo­ple took the vanity to brag and boast, that they foresaw the tempest long before that accident arived. And that Tiberius had not so much as a thought in his solitude, which they had not formerly divined in the Capitol, or foreseen at the foot of Mount Aventine: so true it is, that every one hath a strong opinion of his worth and great abilities, and boldly presumes to censure rashly the intentions of Princes. In conclusion, it may be said to this purpose, that a Kingdom hath as many [Page] Ministers of State, as men; and that all are assistants to the highest Councels, and impart their opinions to the delibera­tions of Peace and War; and that the great Engine of Go­vernment hath no results so secret, but what are absolutely discovered; This is the infirmity and disease of all Coun­tries and Ages; but if it was ever Epidemical and spreading over the earth, if ever Curiosity did exercise the Parts and Policie of the most refined Wits, or the less ingenuous, and provoked the whole world to admire and talk. It was doubtless then, when the Emperor Charls the Fifth volun­tarily surrendred his Empire to his brother, and his Kingdom into the hands of his son.

All men were amazed to see a soul so ambitious of true Re­nown, freely to renounce Glory and Granduer, to pass from a Throne to an Hermitage, and from the high quality of a puissant Soveraign, to the low Fortune of a Private Person. And as they stood at gaze, so each one desired to search into the intentions of this Prince, and to guess at those reasons which transported him to an Action so extraordinary. Now as sometimes the grave Sages please to intermix themselves with the common people, and in their condescentions per­mit themselves to be trod on in a croud; let us presume to make our conjectures of him, who lives not in our Age, and whose action is above the reach of our knowledge. And let us observe this most Illustrious Prince (now in his solitude) speaking to the Queens his Royal Sisters, who were his com­panions in his voyage, when he passed out of Flanders into Spain, after this grand Action.

PROGENIES DIVVM QVINTVS SIC CAROLVS ILLE IMPERII CAESAR LVMINA ET ORA TVLIT AETAT. SVAE XXXI. ANN. M.D. XXXI.

Imperium oceano: famam qui terminat astris.


THE DISCOVERSE OF THE EMPEROVR CHARLES THE FIFTH, TO THE QUEENES HIS DEAR SISTERS.

I Doubt not but that at this instant the whole world is ready to Descant on that stupendious action I have undertaken; and that the greatest contem­plators imploy (at present) their deepest Policy, Mo­rality, and Reason to divine and search out the cau­ses of my resolutions. This action is of such an ad­mirable and extraordinary nature, as may render a­stonishment to the curiosity of the most profound and most capeable understandings; In the undertaking whereof, and although I live in an Age wherein I have these more illustrious & great Personages to beare witnesse with me; Philip King of England; Maximilian King of Bohe­mia, Elianor Queene of France and Portugall, Mary Queene of Hungarie, Emanuell Philibert Duke of Savoy, Christiana Daughter to the King of Den­marke and Dutches of Lorraine: All the Knights of the Order of the golden Fleece, all the Grandees of Spaine; all Persons of Eminent condition in Flanders, and an infinite number of other people; yet I may say, and my reason tells me, that I may well doubt, whether posterity can bee perswaded to beleeve, what I have undertaken to effect. All Ages furnish us with too many examples of Vsurpers of Empires and Crownes; and of Princes who have left their Scepters: but in the universall histo­ry of times, it is most rare to heare of any, who voluntarily quitted Soverainty without constraint: I shall onely except the Emperour Dio­clesian; and (perhaps) I shall have none to imitate me. The world sees that I have transferred to my Son, all the Kingdomes, Provinces, and Isles, of which I was Soveraigne, both in the new, and old World, that I have dispatched the Prince of Aurange to my Brother Ferdinando King of the Romans, to present him with the Scepter and Crowne Impe­riall; I have (already) been observed to with-draw from a Royall Palace, and to have retired to a private house at Bruxells, and thence to have descended to an humble Hermitage: But (it is possible) that thousands can never judge rightly, nor search directly into the mo­tives [Page 2] of so great a change; If I had lost many famous Battailes, If the Turkes and Barbares had invaded the Provinces of the Empire; or had they all disloyally revolted, then might men have said or censured, that I had discreetly quitted, what I had not been able longer to protect and guard; and that I had done well to abandon voluntarily, that which might have beene violently forced from me. But the whole earth knows, That since my age of sixteene yeares, (when first I bore a Scep­ter) to the age of fifty sixe yeares (when at last I surrendred them all) my life and all my Adventures, were nothing else, but a Concatenation of victories and Tryumphes, and a glorious continuation of most renowned suc­cesses; I have enjoyed forty yeares the Royalties & Kingdomes of my Fa­ther; which I have now conferred on my Son, and thirty sixe yeares the Majesty of the Empire, which I have surrendred to my Brother with such successe and glory, that I dare say (without vanity) amongst the greatest Caesars, of all my predecessors, Charles the great onely beares comparison with Charles the fifth. In effect, what Prince can be preferred before Charles, since Charles was preferred before Francis? This high Soule (whom glory inflam'd to become my mortall Enemy; and whom the Renown of my victories so oft amaz'd, aspir'd to the Empire as well as I; and left nothing unattempted that might make his way lesse difficult; he moved by all secret engines to gaine intelligence, & make his party in Germany, he allarm'd the towns along the River of Rheine, with the great numbers of his Forses and Armies, the more to terrifie and dispirit the Princes Electors; notwithstanding the Genius of Au­gustus was more prevalent then that of Anthony, although that of Anthony was more subtill then those of other Men, yet (mauger all despite of this illustrious Rivall) I obtained the Empire to which hee pretended, and gained the Throne with more honour, (as all Europe knowes) then my competitor: This was not the sole advantage which fortune crowned me with in degrees above my mor­tall enemies; But on the contrary, shee seem'd willing that I should bee borne in such an Age, that should chiefly serve for my renowne; And the Tryumphs of Charles, had not received their compleate orna­ment, if this illustrious conquest had not attended his Royall Chari­ott. I know not (my deare sister) if it may not prove an errour in my judgement, or a blemish to my wisedome to remember you (at this reencounter) of the imprisonment of your husband; first, because that he is not now alive, and then because he was my prisoner: yet the relation is a sweet temptation to a soule so ambitious of true glory, as that of mine; and to silence it, is not an ordinary difficulty. And now (to discourse the passages as they fall) to take Prisoner a King with his sword in his hand, in the midst of the field, the battaile being all invelo­ped in blood and fire, the forces routed, and invironed, the Colours torne, the Squadrons flying, and the maine body in confusion; some dying, and others slaine outright; such a King (I say) though intire­ly vanquished, is no lesse glorious then his conquerer. Permitt mee then (sweet Sister) to call to my memory that Battaile of Pavie, as one of the most eminent Actions of all my Raigne, and if you sadly call to mind that this Prince (whom Italy and Spaine saw my Prisoner) was your husband; yet forget not (if you please) that I am also your Bro­ther; But now to passe from Forraine to Domestick affaires, from Warres abroad to civill Dissentions, and so from Spaine to Flanders; [Page 3] what honour did I not gain; when I did chastise the Revolted City of Gaunt, this Rebellion was so great, that the consequence might have been terrible, and yet to see this fire extinguished, before the flame grew higher, I was forced to have confidence in an Antient Enemy newly reconciled; and enter into a Province of a Prince, whom I re­mitted out of Prison, and to take assurance from one whom I had for­ced to pay a Ransom: In a word, J was constrained to adventure the hazard of losing all, that by my bold endeavours I might preserve Flanders; no Policy (more suspicious then mine) could well over­come such scruples in this conjuncture when (during the time after de­liberation) the Rebels found out wayes to foment new Revolts, and to corroborate their unjust usurpation. As for me, I used all waies, and meanes; and as soon as my reason discovered, that I could not suffer the contempt of that Rebellious Town without great disgrace, and much dishonour, I commended Caesar and his Fortune to the mercy of the Wind and Waves; I slighted that which others thought I had cause to fear; I marched throughout all France Heroickly, and at last chastised this Popular City; and reduced her to her Devoirs. Truly Francis used generosity well beseeming him; (But I think I may say in this occasion) my courage well beseemed me. Now to return from Flanders into Spain, if we look toward Font-Arabia, what new Trophies hath not she discovered. This Siege cost me no more dayes, then ma­ny believed it would have expended years. And it fell out there, what Caesar once said (veni vidi vice) But (my most dear Sister) that which I relate to you alone, my wisdome obliges me to deny to all Europe: Your discretion hath merited this Confidence, and he who hath trusted you with his life, shall never fear to trust you with any secret. We tell you then that the gaining of Rome addeth a marvellous lustre to our renown, which others would endeavour to obscure. It is at her Capitoll where Caesars and the Emperours ought to Tryumph, and it is just to make this imperious City (the Mistrisse of the World) to stoop to the power and puissance of her chiefe Lords and Masters But if vertue be scrupulous (in this conjunction) and that any thing seem too much to struggle with, or disturbe her victorious magnifi­cence; let us leave Rome, and turne our eyes towards Boloyn, which saw us receive the Imperiall Crown from the Soveraign Bishop; and yet, if she can expect a further sacrifice to pacifie and appease; and so to cause her utterly to forget the sacking of Rome; she may (if she please) fol­low us into Austria, where she shall see we have proved the Buckler of Christendom in repulsing the forces of invincible Solyman; who was the greatest Emperour of the Turks; shee shall see us make head against our greatest Enemy, and to damme up that dangerous Torrent, which threatned the Ruine of all Germany, & (Possibly) of all Europe; but if the Ladie Vertupl ease to march with me out of Europe into Affrica, shee may look on me there Grapling with the same Enemies; That is, the Mahometans, the greatest Foes to Christianity. Who hath not heard of the taking and sacking of Gouletta? and what Climate is so remote from the Coast of Barbary, as hath not talked of this grand Action; see­ing that almost all Christians were spectators on the effects of this Warre; where I alone caused the Roman Eagle to fly in Tryumph, in those places where she never appeard since the defeat of Hannibal, and the victory of Scipio? Who hath not understood of the flight of Cairad­den [Page 4] Barbarossa, that famous, and formidable Pirate, who so enriched that abhominable Town of Algiers, and made so many Slaves? he was the terrour of all our Coasts, and kept all our Navall Force in subje­ction: he stiled one of his Ships the Dragon of the sea; notwithstand­ing this Dragon flew before the Eagle: And if the Pirate lost not his Navy, his Life, nor his Liberty, yet he lost his Honour, which he ought to have prized above them all. This famous Thief fled from his mighty Wealth, and wee had the honour to pursue him flying, who was the Tyrant of the Sea. Who hath not heard of the fame of the taking of Tunis, the most important, and capitall City of that whole Kingdome? Have wee not cause to hope (as the effect of so great Atchievements) that Fez, and Morocco, shall have the same de­stiny? That Algiers it self shall fall within our power? And that all Assrick shall yeeld entirely to the fortune of our Victories? Yes (my dear Sisters) we have cause to hope, and the successe had been infalli­ble, according to expectation, if the Affairs of Europe had not stop'd our progresse in Barbary, and that wee had not been constrain'd to re­turne speedily to Sea. It is true, I changed the climate, and encoun­tered with a new sort of Enemies, but lost not the least point of good fortune; Victory followed me from Affrica to Germany; and the Duke of Cleve found that I became speedily a Terrible Enemy; I defied him and all his Troops, took him and all his Towns: And if my Clemen­cie had not equalized my Valour, I had buried him under the Ruines of his own Territories. Then the Error of Luther had infected Germany, and I could no lesse then with Fire and Faggot oppose the birth of that dangerous Monster. How many Towns did fortifie themselves a­gainst our victorious Armies, which saw their own Walls thrown down, and demolished by the succesfull strength of our puissant Forces: Ulmes yeelded first, Auspurgh followed quickly after; Halle was willing to imitate the one & the other; and above thirty Towns more submitted likewise: at last Strasbourg, with her famous Clock (of which all Europe talketh) remembers the hour of her surprise, and that of my Triumph. What shall I tell you of the Duke of Saxonie, the dan­gerous head of that party, that violent Defender of the Impostures of Luther, who set all Germany in Armes, and all the Countries of the Em­pire in confusion? Did it not turn to his dishonour, and my glory, that God conducted Caesar and his fortune? Having so good, so great a Pilot, his Ship could not perish? Did not all Europe see the very foundation of this Heresie imprisoned within my power? and hath not that Prison clearly seen, that the Cause which I defended was that of Heaven, and that a Robbing of mee, was a Robbing of God? and seeing that God will be for us, we may demand, Quis erit contra nos? Who dare be against us? Thus (my dear Sisters) I have had this particular fortune, that almost alwayes those who dared to attaque my Person, or Forces, have not onely lost the hopes of Conquering me, but even themselves, their Forces, their Armies, their Estates, and their Liber­ties. It is now that this very thought calls to memory the imprison­ment of Francis le Grand, and his imprisonment, the great advantages which I obtained with those good successes which attended: I shall conclude with a Narration of my Successes, as the chiefest Honour to my greatest actions. Hedin did offer Sacrifice to my memory, and desired permission to be inserted in the Schedule of my Triumphs. Te­roune [Page 5] being taken appeares no little ornament; and many other Towns, which I subdued in France, humbly craved the same favours. But (most dear Ladies) I shall yet in this discourse mount higher then I have before. Then know that I caused Paris to tremble, whi [...]h alone [...]s able to shake a Kingdome; Paris that vast and superbe City, which could (as antient Rome) levy Armies in an instant; Paris (I say) which the whole Earth considers now, as the Abridgment of the World, and as the wonder of the Universe. After this (dear Ladies) I shall not dare to speak any thing, of what I have done in Europe and in Africk; But, (as a device and a well drawn intention presented to me) which fansied me to passe beyond Hercules's Pillars. Remember yet (if you please) that it was under my auspitious conduct and Authority that Perew was first discovered. This inexhaustible source of Gold and treasure, and this new World, the old World never knew; and of this mavellous masse of Riches, my successours may more truly glory, then ever Pompey did, and raise Troopes of Armed Men, stamping their feete upon the Earth as oft as they please. Yes (my deare Ladies) it is this that will cause the Renowne of Sp [...]ine to be illustrious to all posterity, and render her formidable to all the Earth. And to present you with an Epitomy of my life since my age of seaven­teen years, I have made nine voiages into Germany, six into Spain, seaven into Italy, four into France, ten into the Low-countries, two into Eng­land, two into Affrica, besides eleaven times traversing the Main Ocean. What shall I say any more, I have made Warres, Truces, Peace and Alliances, equally honorable, And (except the Enterprize of Algiers, and the Seige of Marcelles) you shall finde that my Reign was a continued prosperity; and that that antient Captaine, which the Greekes stiled the Towntaker, gained not so many as I. But (perhaps you will say unto me) since all these affaires succeed so favourably, and that you appeared like a Star situated in the Heavens, attended with fortunate aspects, thereby inabled to Regulate your own desti­nies, wherefore will you abandone the Helme of that great vessell which you have so prosperously governed, transferring those great affairs to a young Pilot; who hath not so large experience as you? his high endeavours may be as great, or more, yet, 'tis possible, not so successfull. O (most honoured Sisters) it is the desire of immortall Glory that caused me to quit this transient splendor; and to live e­ternally in the memory of men, that I cease to Reign. It is true, that (to this instant) fortune hath been ever propitious to me, that she hath followed my Standard that she never was unconstant unto my party; Nay her favours surpassed my expectations, and seconded all my Ambitions: But I know well this is not allwaies her nature, and I am equally perswaded that I ought not to be too confident; for ha­ving placed me upon the very highest step of glory (to which degree no man ascended before me) she hath withall elevated me so high; that on the view of the circumference where I stand, I am invironed with precipices which are able to amaze the greatest courage. Though I walk securely, (accustomed to behold those dangers without fear;) yet one false step may cause all the glory of my renown to be dasht in peeces, and hazard all the travailes of my whole life to be lost in an unfortunate moment. Yes (my dear Sisters) as I know the inconstan­cy of Fortune, so I understand the injustice and malice of men, and [Page 6] how they look on Conquerours: They would not that they should be sometime successfull, but constantly and alwaies; it is not by precedent noble actions, but by the last events that they censure and judge of the Grandeur of all former Enterprizes; and when fortune forsakes them, re­nown takes leave with her, and reputation dies and followes no farther; some will say that meer chance gave them their advantages, and that their own imprudence destroy'd all: and truly if Alexander himself, after he had gained the Battell of Granique, had lost that of Arbella, he had returned without honour into Macedonia, Although (effectively) he had been neither lesse wise nor valiant. Why should not I then fixe a naile in the wheele of this inconstant Chariot; to stop her instabi­lity? and why should the World think it no danger to expose to losse such high renown obtained with so much industry? were it not better that I should quit the Company of this mutable Lady, then that shee should (coylie) forsake me? And that I should rather descend volun­tarily from the Throne, then to expose my self to the hazard of a pre­cipitious fall? A man ought not to flatter and deceive himselfe in an affaire so important as this, my Throne is not more secure then that of Bajazet, and as for Tamberlain, was not Barbary alone capable to confound him and all his Power? There are fewer Crowns and Scep­ters intire (in all the Earth) then those which lie bruised and broken under the feet of Fortune. This grand & sadobject may teach all Prin­ces (who strike their Subjects with fear) to be daunted and tremble themselves. It is then with the strength of reason, and a consideration so high, that I arrive safely on shore, having hitherto sayled so fortu­nately, and so much the sooner; because I can be no greater then I am (or could) reasonably desire more; should I then vainly expose my selfe to Storms, Rocks, Sands, and Shipwrack it selfe? Besides, as Kings have not the immortality of the Gods (if a Christian may be admitted to use this Phrase) so they have not their Power: But (on the contra­ry) are subject to the most feeble casualties and all infirmities of o­ther men. I am remembred by my diseases, which daily increase upon me, to take order for my Supream and last affaires, for fear of being prevented, and to remit the Scepter of Government (which I cannot longer well support) to the shoulders of a Prince more young and vigorous then I, and consequently, more capable to bear up so great a weight with all the Royall dignity of the Empire. The Soul and body (my dear Sisters) are so chained together, that the weaknesse of the one must needs communicate infirmitie to the other, and then, when the constitution of the one is altered (it is very possible) that the o­peration of the other must admit a change: Judge then, after so many People, and so many Princes have listned to my voice, as to an Ora­cle; and followed my opinion as decrees of Heaven (if I had done well to have exposed my infirmities to the eyes of all the World?) No, the pangs of the Gout are so sharpe and picquant, that they force my Patience to sighs and Groans; It must needs be then greater wisdome that those cryes shall Echo no where but in the desart, and where noe person shall over-hear them. Would Men, that I should do like Tiberius, who to preserve the shadow of his former Power, was obliged to disguise his misery in an Island, where he was confined by dispatching daily Warrants to Rome for the death of some Citizen, for no other end but that Rome might know Tiberius was still living? [Page 7] No, this Barbarous proceeding becomes not a Christian, a Prince, nor a Man, and I hate to practice it. For that time that I have had my health, I conceive J have governed my Subjects in such a fashion, that none (except my Enemies) can be displeased that I either lived, or reigned. But seeing my strength failes me, I shall not farther pre­fer mine ambition above the safety of my Subjects. Other Princes leave their Crowns to their Children onely at that instant when they dye, that is, when they are not fit to weare the Diademe any longer. But as for me, I was never willing that Death should make this pre­sent to my Sonne; but rather, that he should receive, and hold this Blessing from me; and as I was a means to make him live, so (before I dyed) I would be a meanes to make him Reign, and thereby ob­lige him to me more entirely. Moreover (not to conceal any of my thoughts) I know wel that most people of the Earth imitate the Inju­stice of the antient people of Libya, who adored the Rising Sun, but re­gard not the Sun-setting. Yes (Royal Ladies) the flourishing age of Philip withdraws the Subjects hearts from the gray haires of Charles; they would regard the latter years of my Reign as an unseasonable cloud which interposed the bright beams of this new star, and attend with impatience a thing which (rationally) they ought to fear; and if the more moderate party be pleased with their attendance; yet o­thers indiscreet, are inflamed with their new desires; and will not spare to make unjust vows, to hasten a birth to their expectations. The humours of men, who [...]eat in an eternall change, and dwell in a conti­nued instability, never satisfied with the present condition of affairs, fancie new felicities in their imaginations of things to come. It may be said of the People, as of those who are sick, who think they shall re­ceive a Refreshment by change of the Scituation, or place where they lye; and, how good soe'r a Prince is, we may easily discern fewer sighs and groans at his Funerals, then cries, or acclamations of joy at the Coronation of his Successor. Then they fancy to themselves the Golden Age, and the innocency of former dayes, when their new Master begins to Reign; and six Moneths after (perhaps) regrett the death of the former Prince, repine, and murmur at him that is alive: David, who was ac­cording to Gods own heart, yet was not so in the eyes of Shim [...]i and Absa­lon: And who knows (in imitation of the latter) if the Maladie of Rebellious spirits shall not prove contageous in the evill Counsels of Sycophants, and that Flatterers may not infect the Soul of Philip? He is well born, but young; he is my Son, but a Prince; and as I am not wiser then David, so (it is possible) he may prove no more obedient then Absolon. I know that men have observed his sad complaint in England of the condition of his Fortune, and I am not ignorant of what his Confederates have counselled to exasperate him, in regard the Eng­lish would not entitle him their King, but the Husband of their Queen. (Madams) would men that I should hear that this young Lyon had broken his Chains, and that his fury had enraged him to trouble the course of my prosperities? Have I not encountered enough with Forreign Warres, but that I must be embroyled in a Civill? And would they that I should commit my self to a condition more hatefull then death? to be at dissention with my own Sonne, whom I love more then mine own life? Should I expose my self to the danger of a War, where the victory and the defeat would prove equally funeste, and [Page 8] direfull to me? Where if I were conquered I must be vanquished by a Paricide? Or if I should prove the Conquerour, should be constrain'd to sacrifice mine own Sonne as an Oblation to the Empire? And so blot out the high crime of Treason with blood flowing from mine own veins? No, no, Herod, and Charles follow not the same Maximes, if Herod caused his children to die, I love rather to cause mine to Reign: And as the innocency of Philip is like to that of those young Princes, I have been willing to provide that hee should not bee able to lose it. To this end, that I might preserve my self from imitating that unfortunate Polititian, I beleeve that few Princes will copy out my example, as I have had much difficulty to find out any to imitate of former Ages. However Posterity will commend my design, when they shall understand how much my Sonne hath merited; I having done a thing so extraordinary. And I wish, with all my heart, that Philip may have children so wise and hopefull, that hee may doe for them, as I am about to doe for him, and that he may voluntarily sur­render his Empire without any constraint at all.

All these reasons (honoured Sisters) are (as seemes to me) forcible enough to oblige me to act as I have done. Yet (if without ostentati­on and vanity I shall discover the secret of my soul) I vow to you I am in part stript from the Empire by a deep sence of Piety, and Devotion to Religion: For why? the rest of my life past hath been mixed in the Tumults of Armies, and with Managerie of War, where he who is stiled Dominus exercituum hath not been so adored as he ought. And I cannot but know that hee (from whom all their puissance springs) will demand an exact account of their Administration: And that they who have judged Nations and People, shall (at last) be judged them­selves. Yes (Sisters) as I know how the ambition of Francis, and mine have troubled all Europe, and interrupted the repose of all Chri­stendom; I fear, that this ardent desire of Renown, which hath so a­nimated us both, will not prove a cause and ground sufficient and lawfull before the undoubted Tribunal of the Justice of GOD: Seeing then, that the wisdome of men is but foolishness before him, their vanity can be no other then criminal abhomination. I tell you, I have a fearfull sence of the blood of so many Souldiers slain, of the outcries of so many people ruined, and of the flames of so many Towns burned, lest they should mount to the Throne of Heaven, and there cry for vengeance against me. But if that be true (which we must not doubt, since Truth it self speaks it) that the Righ­teous fall seven times a day, how often offendeth he who is not just at all? This reflection (my dear Sisters) hath caused me to look on Scepters, Crowns, Kingdomes, and Empires, as common obstacles of my Salva­vation; and made me resolve to lose them, to find out means to save my Soul. An old Captaine of mine one day entreating my Passe, and Congè, told me that one ought to have some space and time betwixt the affairs of this life, and the day of death. This piercing word stroke so deeply within my Soul, that it can never be blotted out: And since that fortunate hour, wherein that sage Captain admonished me, even to this instant, I have imitated his prudence; nor hath that pi­ous Memento slipt out of my memory. No (virtuous Ladies) it was not in a rude Tumult that I concluded this Grand action; I examin­ed it a hundred times before I undertook it; and after that, I submit­ted my own blindness to the inspirations of Heaven. Yet if besides [Page 9] this so just cause of my Retreat, I may be permitted to adde another reason, which shall be the last end of my discourse: I vow freely, that the death of Francis the first, seemed to say to Charles the fifth, that it was high time for him to cease to live, or at least, longer to Reign; in effect it were not just that this great person should enjoy repose in his Tombe, and that I should continue still in trouble: Seeing that our travelis are alike, it is fit (in some respect) that our recom­pence should be proportionable; and as some illustrious Persons buri­ed him when he was dead, I am content (in some sort) to bury my selfe alive. All the Earth cannot now afford an Enemy worthy of Charles, after the death of Francis, and the youth of Henry hath not the proportion of years to that age, to which I am reduced, he ought first to have made three hundred Sieges, and gained more then twenty Battailes, before he be fit to enter the Lists equally with me: It were not just to expose lightly the Glory of an old Captain to the fortune of a young Souldier; I have too much to lose, and I see too little to gain, to prevent me from a game so hazardous, and I should not have lesse Testimony of imprudence then of courage. If I should longer be per­tinaciously confident, the Seige of Metz hath cleared mine eyes, and makes me see perspicuously that fortune, like Ladies, loves to court beautifull youth. Let not then men think it strange, if I retire my self from her service, and commend my Son to her favour. In a word, Charles opposed Francis as long as he lived, and I leave Philip to grap­ple with Henry as long as he Reignes. It shall suffice for my renown, that I leave off to Reign then, when I have most absolute power, and hence all the World shall be in an amaze; shall dispute and doubt, which Act shall be more glorious, either to have Reigned so sove­raignly, or acquitted the Empire so freely. Seeing therefore that the Empires of the chiefest Caesars were not more glorious then that of mine, it is fit that having excelled all others, I should at last conquer my self, quitting my Ambition with my Crowns, and Scepters, and so with this new kind of Victory obtain an unheard-of glory, which all posterity shall not equallize, but with much difficulty. Let us go on then (most incomparable Ladies) let us go on to honour the Trees of my desart, and store my Wildernesse of retirement, with the Monu­ments and glorious Trophies of so many Nations; and we will make the whole Earth confesse, that he that had power to quit so many Crowns and Scepters, was not unworthy to wear them.

The Censure.

CErtainly it is not lesse difficult to quit Crowns and Scepters, then to gaine and Conquer them: and those who say it is lawfull to violate the Lawes to gain a Soveraign Crown, had no regard of giving approbation to that Act which the Emperour Charles the fifth effected in this unparalell'd example and Resolu­tion. That wicked woman who caused her Chariot to wheele over the body of her own Father, to make her way more easie to his Throne, never thought of a volun­tary resignation of a Crown as Charles did. An effect so stupendeous and ex­traordinary, that it surprises all the World: Many will give no credit to it, some admire it, others (without judgement) slight the Action as not worthy imitation; some attribute this Act to the Grandeur of his courage, others [Page 10] (if I durst say it) to his pusillanimity, His own Son (and so Strada doth assure us) could not abstain from a gallant and ingenious Raillery, for when one told him he had the hap of a good year when the Emperour his father surrendred his Crown, he replyed that his Father might have another when to repent it. This sentence was a certain prognostick of the humor of Philip the second. And these different discourses of the Father and Son, makes it evident to the World that Philip would not appear of the temper of Charles; And that it should never be said of him, that antiquity related of a Noble Grecian, that, Tydides was better then his Father. This subtle and cunning Polititian resolved not to be so kind to Philip the third as his Father had been to him; who through the in­firmities of age, and the Gout, and the thoughts of death, conceived himselfe ob­liged to surrender a Scepter he bad born so long. Our Lewis the eleventh, like­ed not a Maxime and resolution of this Nature; who, as long as he could retain his soul within his body, held fast all the markes of Royalty with Soveraign Power. It is true that he commended them (at the last moment of his death) to his Son, but he sent them in such a fashion, as a man may easily believe the Act was rather to tast his inclination, then to oblige his Son, and rather to discover the Daulphins resentment, then to expresse his own paternall tendernesse. A man may say that this Prince seemed to have a long time to live, because he de­sired to prolong his Reign, he used all endeavours to cause his miseries to dye, that men might know that he was yet alive, he fortified the Castles of Plessis, and Tours rather against death then any other Enemy; he experienced the choicest and rarest remedies to renew Old Age, and cure his Consumption: And if his Christianity had not sweetned the Asperity of Policie, it may be well beleeved, that he would have ordained when he was a dying, what once a great Polititian appointed, that he would have showers of tears run plentifully at his Funerals, thereby (if it were possible) to cause the living to resent his power when he was in the grave. And now, considering all the precedent Affairs, I may be justly per­mitted to honour, and commend a Spaniard (if a Prince born in Flanders may bear that name) and dare venture to say, the action of the Emperour CHARLES the fifth, was Grand, Glorious, truly Noble, and Heroick: For he freely parted with that which the losse and ruin of ten bloody Battels could not force him to. He understood (at last) the vanities of those Grandeures which he had so much courted; and deprived Fortune of all power of robbing him of any thing, and as his Motto was, Plus ultra, so he concluded he had something to endeavour beyond his Empire, and earthy Kingdomes to look after: This great soul found out (at last) that the whole Earth was but as a point, or prick in comparison of Heaven: Without doubt the blessed Spirit which guides the hearts of Kings (and so a great King tells us) infused this generous Resolution. And though this Action have no example but that of Dioclesian (whom the Primitive Christians permitted not to be ranged a­mongst good Princes, yet we may confesse and avow, it was a sublime, and high Act, worthy of greatest admiration, and most worthy of those happy times, when men said, Philosophi sunt Reges, & Reges Philosophantur. To con­clude, it is not lesse rare to see a King become an humble Hermite, then to see a poor Gardiner advanced to be a King, as Abdolominus was, whom Alex­ander commanded to be crowned. Now as it is rare and admirable to see one surrender, and quit a Crown, as CHARLES the fifth, so it is no lesse to be admired to see one assume, and take it up, as one of our Kings did, who was LEWIS the fourth. His Father was dead in prison, his Subjects in re­bellion, and (at the same time) he an Exile in England, but the successe of time changed the fate of all affairs, and strock a deep sense into the Rebels [Page] [Page 11] thoughts, so that they (who so evill intreated [...]he Father) called home the Son to elevate him to the Royall Throne. Behold here that gallant young Prince at the sea side, and in the view of those vessels wherein he sailed from Dover to Callis thus congratulating his subjects, before he accepted the present of his Scepter.

Lewis the 4.th King of France.


LEVVIS THE FOVRTH To his Revolted Subjects.

BEfore I shall receive your Oath of Fidelity, which I may justly demand, and you ought dutifully to take, I shall let you know, you have recalled (this day) a Prince (who during his Exile) had nothing else to doe, but to study how to Rule and Reign; and hereby I shall enforce you to believe that you shall not be able to make a Royal Throne a passage into my Fathers Prison: And after you have presented me with a Crown, to dare to wish me so much ill, as once to think of Chains and Irons. I know well, that this discourse will surprise you, and that you did not beleeve when you presented mee with a Scepter, that I should not rather have received it with Thanks, then Reprehensions; but this act is extraordinary in its commencement, in its progress, and in its conclusion; and it is just that all circumstances should be pro­portionable. Let it then suffice you onely to know, that if I be igno­rant to what point Subjects are to pay their obeisance, yet I am not ignorant to what degree Soveraigns may extend their clemencie: Notwithstanding there is this difference betwixt them, that the Sub­jects have no limits for the first, but Soveraigns have for the latter. The People are obliged to the Princes wills, both by their Bir [...]h, and their Laws. They owe them their goods, their lives, and their liberties; and their Princes owe them nothing but Justice, which can hardly pardon Traitors. If these Truths, and Maximes had been equally understood, and followed by the late King my Soveraign, and you his People, affaires had not been in that sad condition as they now are. The State had not been reduc'd to such confusion; the Provinces had not been Cantonized; Germanie had not been so full of Factions; Italy had not been so divided; all the Cities of the kingdom had not had so many Kings as they now have Governors; you had not been guilty of the crime of Treason, in elevating an U­surper to the Throne, the King my Father might still have Reigned, or (at least) I might have received the Crown from his hands, and not from yours; his Tomb might have been bedewed with my tears, his Scepter had not been prophaned, his Hearse might have been co­vered with Trophies, and not with Chains. And (to speak all in a few words) you might have been happy and innocent. But as his Clemen­cie, and your Rebellion were the sole causers of all these evils, so your Obedience, and my Justice, are the onely means to make reparation. Consider a little (I pray you) (that you fall not back in the same estate [Page 12] wherein you were) in what Relation you now stand; and in what con­dition I am. First, you have violated all sorts of Rights in the person of your King, you have raised a Warre against him, you have assaulted him, and afterwards poysoned him; you have abused the confidence he had in you, you have detained him prisoner with as great Treason as Injustice, with as great insolencie as cruelty: an injury which was never offered (hardly) to the person of an ordinary Herald. Thus you have violated, and impudently abused your King; you have detained him prisoner during a Treaty of Peace, for five years together led him from prison to prison; you have forced him not onely to set by his Militia, and to depose his Crown; but you have constrain'd him with violence to transferre it into other hands then mine. To conclude; you put him to death, and you have reduced my self to a strict necessity, to search my safety in my flight, and to goe and shew my misery beyond the Seas. Yet this is not all, you have done one thing which never any did before; it hath been seen sometimes that the Grandees of a Kingdom have interposed them­selves against a Tyrannie, and have destroyed it; but 'twas never seen that they themselves elevated a Tyrant to the Throne as you have done: In these kind of crimes the Abettors may be said to be more criminall then he who hath received all the fruit: For if each one of you in particular had aspired to set the Crown upon his own head, you might have been more excusable, then to have snatcht it from your lawfull Prince to place it on the head of an Usurper. But you'll say to me, the Prince that bore it was not able to suppert it. To that I shall answer, As I have the honour to be his Son, and was his Subject, it belongeth not to me to determine what he could, or what he could not: seeing hee was my Father, I ought not to presume to be his judge, and seeing hee was my King, I ought not to be so impudent to censure, much lesse to condemn his actions; he being not obliged to render an account to a­ny, But God alone. Believe then, the same respect I have for his memory, you ought to have had for his person, he was your King as well as mine: seeing then that Kings' are called the Fathers of the People; Their Subjects are obliged to have for them a true resentment of re­spect, which their very birth may infuse into them; Bsiedes as Sove­raignes are the [...]ue Images of God, and that the splendor of their puissance is a beam and ray of his power; Subjects ought to have an equall submission to their Soveraigns wil. When then you see a Comet appear, the Sun eclip­sed, the Thunder bolt fall on innocent heads, when you see Floods drown whole Townes, by their inundation, and the Sea (passing his bounds, and swallowing whole Provinces in the bottome of the deep) devour them up; When you see an Earthquake make Kingdoms trem­ble, and cause horrid devastations of whole Countries; then (I say) it is permitted to the People to murmure? Do you not discern the contrary, how in these occurrences they redouble their vowes & pray­ers, and that they are never more obedient to God, then at such a time, as if God had forsaken his providence of the Universe? and when it shall so happen, that Heaven (for the punishment of your sinns) gives you a Prince under whose Reign policy and prudence are not well obser­ved, during whose Government Forraign and Civill Warrs devour all with cruell ravages; it belongeth not then to you to reprehend and condemn your Soveraign; for, is he feeble? then you ought to sustain [Page 13] him: is he unfortunate? you ought to bemoane him: is he wicked? you ought to looke upon him as a scourge and chastisement sent from Heaven, and to waite with Patience for a remedy from that hand, which hath caused your evill. For when a Prince commands an Army, and gives Battail; if it so happen that the Souldiers perform not their devoires and duty, that his squadrons yeild, the main body be bro­ken, and (in the end) after he hath done even miracles in his person, he be yet constrained to quit the field, and to retreat from his Ene­mies? [...]s it not the Prince that loseth the Battail? Is it not the Prince that suffers the disgrace? Is it not the Prince that is reputed van­quisht? And that bears the losse and infamie of the day? Notwith­standing, that by his own particular actions he hath merited to be con­queror? seeing it is thus, why will not you (in such conjunctions) bear with the infirmities, and misfortunes of your Princes, as well as they do with yours? Or (to speak something yet nearer to the quick) who do you not repair these disorders by your own more exact obe­dience? The Prince alone is obvious in a Battail to the infamy, Cou­ardise and misfortnue of his whole Army, and you are thousands, who are obliged to strengthen the Authority and Honour of your King-which he cannot support with his single valour. Believe me, if all Sub­jects would be loyall, no Kingdome could be miserable: and if all Princes thought more of severity then of clemency, there would not be so many Subjects Rebells. Moreover if it were permitted to the Capritious people to take and give Crowns, when they fancied a change; I conceive there is not a Shepheard but might hope to be a King, and not a King but might be reduced to be a Shepheard; so unruly and uncertain are their float­ing Judgements. But (to speak the truth to you) these things ought not thus to pass: we are your Masters, and you ought not to become ours. It is not that I am ignorant that God disposeth of Scepters and Crowns, as he pleaseth, and gives them as he listeth, and bestowes them on, or takes them from whom he will, and what he alwaies doth is without all injustice; sometimes permitting that the people shall elevate to the Throne, these who never pretended to such a high degree. But when such an accident happeneth, it is usually in fa­vour to those extraordinary persons in whom Virtue hath imprest a Royall Chara­racter so visible, that it were almost injustice not to admit them Kings. To con­clude, that which precedes, and that which followes, ought to be sufficient to justifie the effect, and it became Charles Martel, Pepin, and Charlemain puissantly to erect a Throne, which was not founded upon a line of right succession, yet even in this reencounter you well see the event to this present hath not authorized your design. The Engine of of this enterprize, hath been slain in battail; The Arch-Bishop of Rhemes preserved not his life, but three daies after he had anointed the usur­per. But it is not seasonable (to day) to exaggerate the injustice of your proceedings; I am not willing to particularize other things, and I shall satisfie my self with telling you, in generall, that Kings ought not to lose their Crownes, but with their lives, and that nothing can dispense Subjects from the respect, and loyallty, which they owe to their Soveraigns, nor any pretense (Whatsoever) Authorize Treason and Rebellion. If sacred persons may notenjoy their particular priviledge, (which is derived from none but God) they shallbe exposed, more then others, to all sorts of miseries; Their guards will appear to them instead of Enemies, their Thrones will rather seem a direfull precipice then a place of honour, [Page 14] and safety; a King (of this kind) is no better then an illustrious slave, when he shall have as many Masters as Subjects. This first disorder will quickly cause a second, for, when the Nobles of a Kingdome faile in their duty to their Prince, their own Vassalls, and Tenants will for­feit their feality to them, and then Rebellion communicated from the Grandees to the Commons, and so descending from one Soul to another, an universall confusion swells and devours all. Every one will command, and no person obey, and (in this resentment of Levelling equality) each person proves a slave to his own ambition, and no one, either rationally Com­mands himselfe or others. In effect, this is the most sad condition that a Kingdome can fall into, when there is no subjection, and where (for their punishment) the Prince hath not force to reduce the people to their obedience. For mine own part, when I consider my self to be the Sonne of a King, the successour of so many Kings, and yet, notwith­standing that I immediately succeed not my Father; This Idea im­prints in me, a strange confusion as towards you, and an extreame grief as towards my self; for when I reflect how the same Subjects who inchained Charles in Fetters, and gave the Crown to Robert, placed Lewis on the Throne, the malice which they bore to the Father, may it not easily fall upon the Son? and may not they fear that the Son will revenge the outrages committed against the Father? but yet (may someone say,) those who have searcht after you, and passed the Seas to present you with a Scepter, they need not fear that the memory of their antient injustice will oblige you to punish them; They have reason rather to believe, that this last submission should blot out the memo­ry of the first disservice: It is certain, in the exact Rule of iustice, no Noble Action ought to passe without his recompence: and it is really as true; That no Crime ought to escape without his punishment. After all these reasons, what ought you not to fear? and what not to hope? you have recalled me to the Throne, tis true, but if you had not, had you not been as Cri­minall against Lewis, as you had been against Charles? he who gives to another, that which he hath taken from him, restores without doubt that which he hath taken, but his restoration is not a free present, & he ought not to expect thanks for an Action of that nature. No, it sufficeth if one punish not the first, without intending any recompence for the second. I may say also, that you understand not rightly all my present concernments; for why? because you have not left me still in exile, because you have rendred what justly appertained to me, Because you understood that I came to re-demand mine own, not with a power­full Army; and (being tyred with your crimes and miseries) you believe you may probably disarm the fury of Heaven, by this Act of justice; No, no, confide not in any of these pretenses, for if I had not stronger considerations then these, I should commence my Reign with the punishment of your treasons, I should send them to prison, who restrained the person of my Father, and expose them to the most cruell tortures, who contrived and caused his death, with the greatnesse of his misfortunes. Those black crimes are such which nothing can exterminate; Repentance and teares for common errours, where humane frailty may plead excuse, and not for Traitors and Rebells, nor for those, who have destroyed [...]hrones and Scepters, inchained Kings, and created and pro­tected Tyrants. Think not then, that by taking an Oath of fidelity (which i [...] your duty) that I am thereby ingaged not to do what be­comes [Page 15] a King. No, I scorn a Throne where I should be a slave, and I had rather be obscured in Prison, as my Father was, then not to Reign as Soveraign. Those people with whom Loyalty is elective, forbear not to make their Kings absolute, because they could have no pretence of Justice to do other­wise: Judg then, if those who hold their Crowns from Heaven ought to acknowledge their subjects for their Masters, and whether they ought not rather to Punish, or Pardon, as best agreeth with their pleasure. In a word, I find it far more glorious to be a loyall Subject, then to be a King disobeyed. Prepare then your selves to render mee all that obe­dience which you owe me, and (without farther informing you whether you are to hope more for Clemencie or Justice) resolve your selves to an absolute submission. I know well some peevish Polititians will censure, that I act not as I ought in this conjun­cture, and that I should reflect on former passages with some sweetnesse, and gratifie you with Presents, to encourage you with future hopes, but I presume my Policie is more generous, and more secure then theirs; for if I had so perswaded you, perhaps you would have beleeved me to have been more fit to wear my Fathers Irons then his Crown; and would have more suspected me of weaknesse and dis­simulation; this excessive indulgence would give you more of fear, and me lesse of honour and estimation: I (being then so far from fol­lowing such Maximes) tell you once more, that I declare my self to be your King. And (without farther capitulation with you) I ascend the Throne by the steps of mine own Authority as Soveraignly, as if not recalled by you at all. Hitherto I have let you know I am not igno­rant how far the duty of Subjects ought to bend: But moreover I judge it fit to acquaint you to what degree Soveraign Clemencie may extend it self; to this end, that by that resentment, you may reasonably know what to fear and what to hope. Know then, that although a Prince may justly punish Traitors, he may likewise pardon penitent offendors, principally then, when he discernes his pardon shall reclaime insolen­cie to obedience, and fidelity: For, seeing Kings are the Fathers of the people, they ought not alwaies to be too severe in Justice; and seeing that a Prince may afford grace and pardon to his enemies, he may without doubt shew pitty and mercie to his own Subjects: He cannot well punish them all, but must (in part) enfeeble himself; nor sluce out their blood with­out emptying his own veins; wherefore he ought to spare them as far as Reason and Justice can make the way passable. When then a parti­cular accident grows up against a Prince, or State, it may suffice that the heads of some chief offendors be sacrificed to a reparation, and that by some severe examples others may be instructed with exampla­rie terrour. But seeing that the number of the offendors may prove infinite, and if all should be punisht, a desolation of entire Provinces might succeed, and consequently more men be lost then 15 main Bat­tails could devour, so that the piles of dead corps should make mountains, and severe execution of revenge cause Rivers of blood: In such considerations (I say) it may be better to use a greater example of Cle­mencie, then of Justice, and hazard something, rather then to lose the lives of so many miserable soules; and there cannot be a greater Victory then to vanquish ones own Passion in such dangerous conjunctures. Fear not then that I shall abuse my Authority, since if I should punish all who have offended, I should reduce my Kingdome to a forlorne Desart: [Page 16] For who is there among you that hath not failed of his duty? Some have done mischief, others have desired it, or at least permitted it to be acted; some have assisted Robert, others have directly fought a­gainst their King; some have most perfidiously laid their hands upon their Anointed Lord, & committed a sacred person into Prison; and others have (at least) forsaken him. The publique good is the pretext of all things, but Rebellion alone is the Mother of that horrid Monster. The Nobles agi­tated (as they did) for their own interest, and the people by their madnesse, and unadvisednesse, seconded their fury, and put in execu­tion the intentions of the Paricides: Your Wives and your Children are not exempt from these crimes, seeing (without doubt) they made vowes for their Parents offending, and prayers against their Prince. Whereas then I cannot punish you all, but that I must utterly exter­terminate you; it resteth at my choice, whether I would become a King without Subjects, or to pardon you out of pure grace and boun­ty, and not by Obligation. It may be that during your lives you may repent you of your ancient crimes, and become as faithful as you have been disobedient. But (perhaps you will tell mee) as to our selves, we have repented formerly before wee sent to you to come, and re­ceive the Scepter which belongs to you. 'Tis true, it may bee as you have said, and that I have considered your Addresses to mee were to make reparation of what formerly passed, and that with those hands you would advance to the Throne his Son whose Father you had bar­barously removed. But (after all) whosoever can abandon the path of Virtue to make choice of that of Vice, can again embrace that occasion if presented. Wherefore you owe greater obligation to me then I can confidence to you; for had I not resolved to shew Grace and Pardon, the great number of Nobles which the King of England, my Unckle, hath pre­sented to me to attend my person, had not come without Souldiers; each one of these who incircle me have Troopes at their command; and I would not have received my Fathers Crown but in the head of a victorious Army, in the midst of a Field covered with dead, and dying men, bedewed with the blood of ten thousand Rebels; I would have been the Conqueror of my Kingdome, and not have mounted unto the Throne supported by the same hands who snatcht it from my Fathers head. But I call to mind I am your King, as you are also my Subjects, and in this relation I can love you yet, as guilty as you are; I can have pitty for your errors, and kindnesse for your obstina­cie; and I will not put my self into a condition of sadnesse after the Victory: I am then come to you without an Army, to receive what is mine. This Action (without doubt) is hardy, bold, and wel deserveth glory; and is sufficiently obliging to demerit your acknowledgement in all degrees of fidelity. Before that you were criminous, the Divine and humane right conjured you not to forsake your Prince; but this day a new obligation chaineth you to more strict obedience. It is not enough alone to be faithfull, so to satisfie your dutie; but it is your part to blot out the memory of what is past, and to justifie what is present; you ought not to look on me meerly as your King, but as a King of your own choice, as a King who hath pardoned you, as a King who consideth in you, who now is commending his person into your hands, and commits the very care of his life to your protection, next to Heaven: Study then to gratifie such pressing endearments, and [Page 17] provoke not the wrath of Heaven upon your heads by new Rebelli­ons. Those who have examined your by past actions, approve not (doubtlesse) that resolution that I have taken to return into Franc [...] as I have done; for (they will tell me) what confidence can you have in those who have had no regard to their lawfull Soveraign? They pretend much to desire your presence, but their feares exceed their desires: And it is rather to secure your person, then to advance your Scepter; that though you are this day recalled, yet as long as your youth continued, they suffered you to live in exile, and obeyd Robert; but he being dead (at present) and they seeing that you were in a condition to obtain by force that which they now offer, they seeme to repent, not so much regarding your losse, as themselves. Behold the reasons which have here contested with my resolution, which (seeing they are not without some rationall ground) I have not de­sisted to perswade my selfe, and in that double choice, whether to make a War with you, or confide in you, I have chose the latter as more glorious, and I love rather to hazard my person then the destruction of all my Kingdomes. Those who taught me the art to Reign, have well foreseen the Exigencies to which I am now reduced, and therefore without doubt they took so much care to advise me what I ought to doe in justice, and what I might be allowed to do in Clemency; These two Vertues appear as contraries, but are not; they accord easily in the heart of a Prince. They mutually give place each one to the other in the Empire of his Soul, according to the divers occasions which are presented, for he ought alwaies to abound in Clemency, and he ought not likewise to be ever too severe with the strict measure of justice. Mercy and justice are two excellent Virtues, but prudence ought to imploy them both: And the Princes sole Will, ought to be the onely rule to guide them. Having then conjured you to an equall confidence in me, as I have in you, let an Act of oblivion pass, and let us remember no more former crimes, unlesse it be to prevent relapses. Let us not look on the Tombe of Charles, but meerly to bedew it with the teares of tender repentance: Not to make it an Altar whereupon to sacrifice his Enemies; let us Raze to the ground those horrid Cells which served for his imprisonment, thereby (if possible) to destroy the memory, and not to leave a mark or point to posterity of those black crimes; let us ascend the Throne with as much splendor as if it had never been prophaned, and let us Reigne (if possible) with more honour and tranquillity then the late King my Soveraign did. But do not think I shall be able to effect it without the aid and succours of my Subjects; deceive not your selves, the valour and prudence of the Prince are not sufficient of themselves to make a Kingdome happy: The Subjects ought to contribute their proportions. The Nobles are to offer their loyall obedience, and the people to fol­low their good example, and both degrees ought to be united in vir­tue: for otherwise he who giveth Victory and Masters Fortune, will approve the virtue of the Prince in punishing the vice of the Subjects. Those who are valiant, do not alwaies gain the Battail; and those who are wise, are not allwaies for [...]unate: However let us place our selves in such a capacity, that we may be successfull, though we cannot merit it. See here what your Prince hath said unto you, who in Liew of punishing you, hath pardoned you; instead of fighting with you, prepares to defend you; instead of being your Enemie, becomes your Conservator, and who by [Page 18] his own birth and your choice, is now your Lord, your Master, and your King. These two qualities permit me not to Capitulate farther with you: It sufficeth that I onely adde this; That I admit you to hope for clemency, whilest I Reigne, as I wish you to fear allwaies my justice, and beware that you put not your selves in a condition to make triall of the second, or of losing the former.

The Censure on LEWIS the Fourth.

I Doubt not but many will censure that in this discourse I have confounded two great Virtues, and that I have mistaken generosity for prudence. Others will conclude this Action of our LEWIS the fourth, as savouring more of the fiercenesse and impetuosity of youth, then of the Sage and orderly conduct of a skillfull polititian. And they may seem to speak truly (if their examination of the passages be onely superficiall and slight) and the Objection appear equitable; And then (consequently) that I could not handsomly range this illustrious Prince amongst those who have exactly followed the Precepts and Rules of true po­licy, which is the Mistriss that guideth Royall affairs with least danger. What State-prudence (will some Polititian object) counselled this young Monarch to speak to his Subjects so high, when he was so low? and having scarse got well on horseback, thus to salute his Subjects, who had their Arms in their hands? Rebels, Subjects, who had lately tumbled his Father from the Throne; who had torne the Crown from off his sacred head, changed his Scepter into Chaines, and his Palace into a Prison? might not this bold entrance to the Throne have rather provoked them to desperation then obedience? and raised a new tempest which could not be appeased, without much difficulty? might not this noise have served to awaken them to fresh jealousies and feares, which their own prudence should have taught them? Certainly this objection (at first view) seemes invincible, that Lewis did not appear so discreet and judicious as his condition required: And that I was little less, who presumed to ranke and reckon this Frince amongst those, who had exactly learned the Art of Reigning over a Kingdome. Notwithstanding, he failed not in his Kingly craft, and (if my reason deceive me not) I am not guily of any mistake in this decision; for whosoever shall examine this great Action from the bottome, and weigh the Arguments maturely, will be convinced of this opinion, and neither condemn my judgment, nor the Resolution of Lewis in this eminent Action. The Counsells of Prudence prove different according to several conjunctures of occasions, and ought to change their countenances according to the present diversities, and important alterations of affairs. And, as hardy and bold resolutions are not alwaies seasonable, so neither are timorous and fearfull proceedings ever wise and safe; That Polititian who trembles, and is not confi­dent; who dares do nothing generously and stoutly for fear he may prove too rash & inconsiderate, shall be seldome fortunate; he is too speculative a Contemplator, and proves rarely quick & active. And whiles he amuseth himself with curious consi­derations whether he should, or should not undertake the enterprize, whether he should speak or be silent, be an industrious actor, or a dull flegmatique Spectator; The opportunity (by this time) may be well lost, the Starrs change their scituations, Aspects alter, and so the fatal moment whereon depended the good or ill successe of a grand design slip clean away without advantage. That Philosopher (whom some censured as over-wise) found that his tedious doating on too much conside­ration brought forth no fruit, but folly; and that his most subtile conclusions, [Page 19] were no better than fancies and dreams of one newly awaked out of sleep. The Augurs telling an old Captain that the Pullets would not eat; he quickly dis­cern'd the mystery, and answered, If they would not eat except they drank, they should have their fill, and so caus'd them to be flung into the Sea; at which sum­mons he gave battail to his Enemies & gain'd the day. An old Souldier told his General, the Enemies were twentytimes more then they; but he replyed gallantly; And for how many dost then account me? Another told his Generall that the Enemie darted Arrowes like showres of Haile; he replyed instantly, tis so much the better for us, we shall fight against empty quivers, and but shadowes of men. The Policy of high borne Heroes, and low hearted Peasants is not the same. The Mariners dispute in one fashion aboard their Ships, and the Commanders and Souldiers after another in their Trenches. And as these persons are very distinct, and different in their qualities, so are they in their Counsels, and Agitations. Those who walk on dangerous Precipices, ought to march boldly, if they intend to passe securely. And in those Attempts, he who staies to mea­sure the depth of perill in his way, either will prove so fearfull as not to adven­ture; or else will be in great danger of a ruinous fall. To judge then of the Action of Lewis the fourth, a man ought to consider what this Prince pre­ponderated, how his Fathers gentlenesse and civility was his ruin: That he spoke to the same Rebels who had ravisht his Fathers Crown from his head, and depriv'd his person of his liberty: And that by the same capricious humour they recall'd the Son who had destroy'd the Father; and lest that might ranckle and swell again, and so infect and destroy the Sonne as it had the Father, it concern'd him then to let them know, that he came now to inherit his Fathers Kingdom, and not his infirmities: That though first impressions may exchange, or obliterate ill humours, yet it is with great hazard and difficulty. Wherefore it was more important to his purpose to strike deeper at the rootat first, to gain better advantages. If Lewis his feet had been seen to tremble when he was to ascend the throne, he must then have discovered a capacity to fall again. If he had re­ceived the crown with a dull and phlegmatick deportment, he had been rather made a King by his Lords and Masters then his Subjects; and he would have unfolded to his People the passion of cowardly fear, rather then have procured due regard from them. We may conclude then, that this Prince was wise, in being stout and gallant in this occasion; that his Policie was not indiscreet, and (co­ping with Souldiers, and men of Armes and Valour) his discourse was not improper, as containing nothing that might give the shock to Soveraign pru­dence; but rather on the contrary what well became the Grandeur, and Maje­sty of a King. Yet perhaps some will say unto me, such harsh and rigorous proceedings have not alwayes had the best successe; if Caesar had well observed the predictions of his death, if he had better regarded his words, who answer­ed him, That the Ides of March could not passe, and were not yet come: If he had read the Note presented to him as he entered into the Senate, it is to be presumed he had not been stabbed. If the Duke of Guise instead of an haugty reply to what he found under his Napkin, had speedily taken post, and fled from Blois, he had not satisfied the States Generall with his own Ruine, nor signed his death at Cayere with his own blood. All this is true, I must needs consess: But suppose it so happens once, it is not necessary that it prove so al­wayes: And it is more perillous to be stupidly silent, then to discourse heroickly, for such reasons chiefly which I formerly mentioned. He declared his courage, and his constancie: And Lewis did nothing in this conjuncture but what well became a truly noble, and wise Prince. Nor did this glorious action rellish of any thing but what beseemed an Illustrious Hero, and a prudent Politician: [Page 20] O, that Kings would more observantly regard the infusions and mo [...]ions of their Tutelarie Angels, who guard their Kingdomes, and not incline, nor listen to Parasites and Flatterers, who divert their good disposuions by the insinuati­ons of persidious, and pernitious Counsels. This truth found a great example in the person of MATHIAS CORVIN, that famous King of Hungarie, whose name was Illustrious through all the earth, in so much that he ascended to such a height, that his renown cannot but be derived to posterity with much honour and glory. The Venetians were formerly in league with the Turks a­gainst the Hungarians: they aided them to the ruin of that Kingdom, and re­duced that Country almost to a desolation. And having been the cause of the death of two of their Kings, of which the grand HUNNIADES, Father of MATHIAS was the last; yet notwithstanding (seeing themselves afterwards all in flames by the Turks their Allies, and ready to be consumed by a bloo [...]y War): They sent Ambassadors to Hungary, to implore succours from this famous MATHIAS CORVIN, who after he had afforded them an honourable Audience, answered them speedily after this sort.

MATHIAS CORVIN To the Ambassadors of the Republick of VENICE.

IF the Habits you wear, and the Language you speak, did not convince me that you were Venetians, I could hardly beleeve that you were Ambassadors sent from that Country. And if the Robes I carry, and my Accents did not clearly assure you that I am King of Hungary, I beleeve you would take me for some other; and that all that you have discoursed had not been addrest to me: For what pretence can you have to dream of the effect of your desire, and expectation, after so great an affront and injury, as we have received from you? And if ye had no just cause to hope (as without doubt, ye had not) why hath your Se­nate sent you on an Embassy so unprofitable? Truly the great reputa­tion which your prudent conduct of Affairs hath gained you, seemes strongly founded: And the flourishing estate of your Illustrious Re­publick, which hath been known through so many Ages to have pre­served her glory, and grandeur, is an undoubted argument of your great abilities in such weighty matters. Notwithstanding I am obli­ged to let you know (on this occasion) that though you seem to a­bound in judgement, yet you seem to bee but of a short and failing memory. Consider (I say) former passages, and the request you make this day: Is it possible that you should have intirely lost the remem­brance of that miserable estate out of which this Kingdome is hardly as yet recovered? and that ignoble denial which your Republique made Uladislaus my Predecessor? The great Storm and Tempest which was raised at Constantinople, and designed to fall on Hungarie, was taken notice of, and talked of in all Countries; and the formi­cable [Page]

Mathias Corvin King of Hungary

[Page] [Page 21] power of the Turks, as a swelling Inundation, threatned to o­verflow, and drown whole Provinces. The Turk armed Affrica, a great part of Asia, and of Europe against us, and it appeared very pro­bable that we should have been swallowed up under the numbers of those great Forces, so prodigious, and unequall to ours. Hungary ha­ving been as the Buckler to all Christendome, and an impregnable wall, which was continually battered, and dashed against, by the sa­vage Waves of this unruly Torrent: This insatiable Usurper swore solemnly to rend this Buckler into shivers, and to levell this Rampart to the ground, which had ever resisted the violence of his Inundati­ons. In this mischievous conjuncture, the young, and valiant Ʋla­dislaus let slip no advantage that might fortifie and strengthen his par­ty to preserve them from perishing and ruine. And as he knew how, that besides the Interest in generall, of all the Christians in this pub­lick affair, you had particular cause in respect of Friuli, which you were Lords of in the Main Continent, and the Isles which you pos­sessed in the Archipelagus, he made and raised his Forces to greater strength and magnitude, to oblige you the rather to make a League with him, both Offensive, and Defensive against this irreconcileable Enemy. To this purpose he dispatched his Ambassadors to you to Venice, and by them represented to the Senate, what that Republique owed to the honour and name of Christians and put them in mind of the ancient Alliance and Amitie betwixt the Crown of Hungary and that State. The Pope (as a common Father to the Christians) joyned his importunities with our requests, and used all endeavours to perswade you to a thing in which you had (certainly) no lesse interest then we our selves: And to the undertaking of which, Virtue, and Equitie seemed naturally to oblige, and enjoyn assistance. Notwithstanding the force of all perswasions, and endeavours, we prevailed not, but advised, and treated in vain, and you had the hard heartednesse nei­ther to listen to our Counsels, nor regard our Remonstrances, and so refused absolutely to aid us with those Succors, or Auxiliaries we de­sired, as necessary, and with which we had so much reason to hope to be supplyed. The excuse which you alleaged was, That it was neither fair, nor just to declare against a Prince who had not injur'd you; and that you were not obliged to that. Nay, your cruell policy was not con­tained in these termes and bounds, a bare Neutrality was not sufficient for you to secure your own safeties. Nor did it suffice you to be meer spectators of our miseries, but you were willing to augment them. If so be that you had neither declared for the one nor the other, pro­bably your Forces might have given at least a suspition to the Turk, and possibly caused his Armies to have marched more slowly, in a designe of such high importance. But instead of an act of such a nature, you made an infamous and horrid Alliance at that time, and utterly to remove away all suspitions and jealousies, that he might not dread your Forces, you let him see your fears, you signified to him, that we were not in hopes of assistance of any per­son. In brief, you (as much as in you lay) exposed us to their rage and fury, and to the eminent perill of all misfortunes, or (to speak free­ly) not onely Hungary, but all Christendome, and your very selves al­so. Now to what a height of Miseries your forsaking us hath brought us, and what sad events this unfortunate Warre hath produced, [Page 22] which we alone were forced to encounter, You (Venetians) well kn [...]w, and all the earth is full of the reports of our miser [...]es, though we (of all others) more sensibly find, and feel the sad effects; since the wounds which we received, yet bleed a fresh, and time hath not had dayes and years enough to obliterate the memory, nor to obum­brate and deface the representation and gastly sight of those evill, and mischievous Conjunctures: It so happened then with forces so une­quall, and through the inconsiderate Counsels of perfidious flatte­rers, that the brave, yet unfortunate Uladislaus lost two Battailes on the other side of the River Danubius, where anin finite number of Soul­dies and persons of great Condition were slain, or made slaves in the battail which was lost, in the plaines of Varne, and after that in the Battail of Cosobe, in the Country of the Trebelliens. It fell out also that Valiant Vadalislaus lost his life fighting magnanimously: And these two Plaines were covered with the blood of Christians: At which time the whole Kingdome was filled with horror and confusion, ma­ny thousands were made poor Widdowes, which have sighed out their Prayers, and sent their cryes to Heaven against you, in regard of the losse of their dear Husbands; thousands of Orphans cry for their Fathers, and Fathers for their slain Children. And it might have so fallen out, that all Christendome had been in hazard and danger to have been swallowed up, if the bounty and favour of God, (which much exceeded the horrour of your crime) provoked with jealousie for the defence of his own Altars, for his own Glory, and for the pro­tection of the name of Christian had not raised up the invincible Hun­niades my Soveraign King and Father. But alas, these misfortunes which attended us with such horror and cruelty, were not alone; o­ther sad effects and dangerous consequences succeeded in the midst of those great losses. I sustained the chiefest in mine own particular; so that the Honour of that Scepter I bear, and that Crown I enjoy are not able to poize my griefe with equall consolation of glory and re­nown. Shall I tell you? or am I able to speake? or be silent on this sub­ject? The great and invincible Hunniades hath lost his owne life by those glorious wounds which he received in that unhappy Warre, wherein you were ambitious spectators. He repelled the Turkes a hun­dred times with his Victorious sword, but at last not able longer to resist the slashes of their Symetars, he died with those fatall strokes. Victory attended him a thousand times, but at length (alas!) she for­sooke her Champion. He was a long time a Rampart to Christianity, but in the end that Bulwarke was levelled as strong as it appeared. He Combated, Vanquished, and Triumphed; yet after so many Con­quests he was forced to submit to fortune. He met with a good hour to ascend a Throne, but that high steppe was but a stair to descend to an humble Tombe. He made himself a King with his noblenesse and Va­lour, but he ceased to be a man by the unworthy Cowardize of those that forsook him. Hee obtained immortall honour, but (alas!) hee came not to this immortality, But at his death. To conclude, Hunga­ry lost her King, Christianity lost her Protector, Europe lost her most glorious Jewell, and Mathias (from whom you now implore assist­ance) lost his Soveraign and Father. Judge then, you Venetians (if you have not utterly lost the memory of my great losses, and your own in humanity) whither you have any cause to hope for succour from me as [Page 23] you now desire. Consider if you have not ground to believe that the blood of a Father (such a Father as Hunniades) be not more loud then you, and more perswasive then your eloquent Oration. Oh! if the Lawes of Nations were not inviolable betwixt Princes, who make profession of Honor and Faith; If the persons of Embassadors were not sacred amidst the most barbarous and least civilized people; The impudency which you have made appear in your discourse and re­quests, might justly hazard your safety; your fears might cause you to tremble, and make you dispair of my Clemency, which findes much difficulty to withold from revenge. But as you are Embassadors, you are in a Sanctuary which covers your heads from the just rage of in­dignation: Yet since Vengeance belongs to God, who knowes how and when to exercise it; And that there is none but he who punisheth the Children for the iniquity of their Fathers to the third Generation. Seeing all­so that time hath closed up that wound which you have thought to open, and that which is the end of all things, hath calmed my dis­pleasure, and removed the Gall of my resentment, we will not raise those appeased Waves, but letting the Tempest and the winds sleep, we will examine without Rancour or Passion former passages, and so judge better of what you now desire, viewing with a disinteressed eye the injustice of mine own reproaches, and of your unworthy Actions. It is certain (and experience of all ages doth teach and shew) That next to the immediate Power of Almighty God) this great and marvellous Frame of the Universe, knowes no other motives to set and put all her rationall desires into action, then those three Grand Engines of Jucundum, Honestum, and Utile. And how different soever mens intentions may be, it must necessarily follow that their thoughts tend to one of these three. Seeing then from the lowest to the highest condition of men, all do operate upon one of these Princi­ples, and that no designe hath its originall from any other motive; seeing all degrees of men, and orders of Creatures, Rationall or Irra­tionall propose these as their chiefest ends, (as the Voluptuous de­signe their pleasure, the ambitious their glory, the Covetous their treasure) Let us see by which of these three motives your mercilesse Republique could be obliged to such unnaturall proceedings towards us, and to be so full of inhumanity (in so great a danger) to refuse us. For the first; What appearance was there, that a people, Friends to Europe, a people civilized, and professing Christianity, could be so barbarous as to take pleasure in the desolation of our Pro­vinces, and the ruine of our Towns? in the prophaning of our Temples? the defeates of our Armies? and the murthering of our Souldiers? What? was prey and Pillage, Fire and sword, teares and blood, wounds and death, pleasant Objects for your diversions? Could you take delight in ugly and extravagant pleasure? in things capable to strike horror and pitty in the most insensible Soules? the Mountaines of men slaine, and the Earth covered with wounded bodies, old men pulled by their beards and hair, and stabbed before their Children, Infants snatcht from their mothers pappes, and dashed against the walles, and mothers dragged by the hair, and so piercing the Heavens with their hideous cryes; Virgins miserably exposed to the insolency of the Janizaries, and the bloud of grand and brave Kings powred out to the last drop, The howses of God dishonoured, his Priests murthered, his [Page 24] Altars defaced, and all those sacred things in the hands of the pro­phane and sacrilegious Turks? Could all this, and such like objects, yeeld you any pleasure, and content? and could you look on all this misery, not onely with a dry eye, but with an eye ambitious of such crueltie? as pleased with such horrid objects, and deigning such miseries no compassion? Do not men speak of Nero as a Monster of Nature, and shame of Mankinde, who could looke on Rome on Fire without regret and grief? You have seen a Kingdom on Fire without the least touch of Compassion. And shall not you passe un­der the censure of Monsters, as not worthy to behold the light, and fit to lose that blessing with as much grief as ignominy? Judge your selves, did ever Christians see their fellow Christians perish and moulder into crums under the Infidels Swords and Simeters, and become so perfectly inhumane, as to rejoyce at their desolation? Did the Itali­ans when they stormed the walls of the Lestrigoes, and the Cannibals, and (as it were) eat those Men-eaters (or at least saw them torne, and rent in pieces) find any content in such objects of misery which they were forced to make? No, no, as barbarous as you have been, and as extreamly rigorous as we judge you, we shall not beleeve that men, that Vene [...]ians, that Christians could laugh at our Tears, bath themselves in our blood, and rejoice at our disgrace. Those that are uncapa­ble of committing such grand offences, cannot but think they may receive ayd from others, and their innocency makes them judge of others by themselves; nothing being able to incline their judgements contrary to those naturall inclinations upon which they are founded; we cannot beleeve then that it was jucundum quid, a delectable object which you proposed in refusing your assistance, and so exposing us to the barbarous Mahometans; it being farre from all appearance that you should conceive a thought, or finde any pleasantnesse in things so contrary to humanity, and directly opposite to all that may pretend to give any joyfull content or pleasant satisfaction. Seeing then, that Jucundum quid was not the object that united you, let us examine if it were hon [...]stum, honourable for you to act as you did; and if it were by this motive, that you would expose us as a prey to the rage of the Turks, and that you thrust all Hungary, and all Christendom on such a precipice of danger; and (if I may so say) within two fingers bredth of an universall ruin. Those who have most seriously examined the consistance of the true glory of Princes, having discussed the questi­on so many severall waies, and well observed the biasses of different interests, have all agreed in this, that it consists principally in this Maxime, To protect the more feeble, and to resist the more puissant. Yea it is in this alone, wherein consists true generositie. It is in this disin­terested virtue, wherein Princes do finde their greatest splendor. It is this unspotted reputation which they ought to endeavour all their life. A beam of true honour, and which they ought to prefer above that of their Scepter and Crown. In effect, all their other actions (how glorious and beautifull soever they appear in the eyes of the world) may meet with an ill construction, and without this receive an in­glorious interpretation. Conquerors may be deemed to be ambitious, Peacemakers may be censured to be timid, severe Princes passe for cru­ell, Clement may be suspected to be feeble, Liberal accused to be prodi­galls, Provident accounted covetous, Valiant stiled rash, and the Prudent [Page 25] lazie. The Majesty of Princes may be censured Pride, their Facility Basenesse: If they are too grave, the people will not love them: If too familiar, their Subjects scorn them; If gay and glorious, they are reviled as incompassionate; if Melancholy, then nothing will oblige them; If Prudent, then too full of craft and subtilty; If Frank and Ingenious, then imprudent and indiscreet. In a word, all their thoughts, words, and actions are subject to receive an evill interpre­tation from the envie and malice of men. There is nothing then but the protection of the feeble (when it is offered) being free, and with­out private interest, which hath no cause for an Apologie: And there is nothing more truly noble then this generous resistance, which (op­posing over-powerfull enemies) is rewarded with generall approba­tion: And in a design of this nature there needs no Reasons or Mani­festoes to authorize the Armies of such illustrious Captaines. The thing speaks it self, each oppressed soul implores aid from heaven upon Auxiliary Troops. And their high enterprises are not condem­ned of any person, no not of their very enemies. The publick vogue of the people gives to such generous Princes the glorious titles of the Defenders of their Liberties, the Protectors of their Innocencie, the Supporters of to [...]tering Thrones, the Restorers of Estates, and the Scourge of Tyrants. Poste­rity preserves their names, and reverences their memories, as things which virtue hath consecrated, and never ought to perish: The Mar­ble is polisht, and engraved to eternize their glory; Bookes and Hi­stories (of all Nations) speak of them in their own Languages; Fa­thers tell their Children, and Children prattle, and after talk to their Posterity: And so by this immortall and glorious Tradition, the ho­nour and reputation of virtuous Princes passeth from Age to Age, to eternize their Fame over all the World. And if ever any Senate found favourable opportunity, that of yours might have seasonably afford­ed us protection which we so earnestly demanded, and you so cruelly refused: We were weak, our Enemies were puissant; they were the Invaders, we the Defenders of our Rights; they would have usurped our Kingdome, we strove to defend our Country; they had no right in their pretensions, and we no injustice in our Defence: What shall I say more? They were Turks, and wee Christians; they were ancient and naturall Enemies, we your Friends, Allies, and Brothers: And a­bove all (as I said before) they were strong and puissant, we weake and feeble; which argument was sufficient to have obtained your Protection, if you had been truly Noble, and had aspired to true glory. And what honour could you ever have obtained so great as that? to have opposed and suppressed vigorously this torrent, and to have extinguished the violence of Fire and Sword, which came to ravage two Empires, and ten Kingdomes? What a glory would it have been to you to have arrested their Force, and to have got Victories from that Monster who overthrew the Throne of Constantine the great, and extinguished the Race of the noble Paleologus? What Re­putation had you not gained in revenging new Rome, and the Inso­lencies of these Barbars? and what estimation had you not deser­ved in the support of our weak condition against so great an Enemy? To oppose those that doe evill, and to defend those which suffer, is a Lesson which Nature it self inspires, and is taught without a Tutor. And (if Passions blind us not, nor disorder Natures conduct) It is [Page 26] impossible to those who are nobly born, not to range themselves on the weaker side, and not to oppose the unjust Violence of oppressors. A naturall instinct presseth us, compassion forceth us, reason leadeth us, and (as we ap­prehend in our selves) such an Action of incompassion would seeme very rude. And humanity directeth us, that we could not endure that ignoblenesse in an other. Certainly they are not men, but cold statues, and such as the frozen hearted Venetians, who stand still in such a Ren­counter without motion and action: They deserve not the names of men, who can be insensible in such conjunctures; and he seemes not a rationall soul, nor scarce a meer Animal, but a senselesse stone, who can refuse succour to the oppressed when they implore, and are in necessity. If it be a shame to refuse assistance when men are implored, and not to oppose the injustice of them who oppresse; how much more shamefull is it then, not onely to see the feeble perish, not onely to deny them succours, not onely to resist their violence, who devour them, but rather to strengthen the oppressours, and (cowardly) to joyne themselves to them who were too strong alone? Oh (Venetians) there hath been too much of basenesse and inhumanity in these igno­ble proceedings: and this action hath been very black and fowle, re­lishing of as little honour and honesty as delight and pleasure, un­worthy to have engaged you in such an enterprize; which being utter­ly incapable to render you any glory, will eternally cover you with the Clouds of Reproach and infamie. For if you were our Enemies, why did you not publiquely declare and tell us, as the Turks did? and if you were our Friends, why did you joyn with the Barbars, and so aide them to ruine us? No, No, true honour was not the object of so base and black an Action, nor could true content or satisfaction be enjoy­ed in an enterprize so bloudy and cruell. Seeing then that your un­dertakings were neither founded on that which may be rightly judged Jucundum or Honestum, let us see if Utile, profit, and avarice hath obliged you to a cowardly acquitting of your Allies. When that Maxime proves true which is ever false: That Kings, Soveraign Prin­ces and Republicks, ought not absolutely to consider any thing but the repose of their own estates, and their particular utility: When (I say) naturall equity, civill society, the Alliances of Crowns, the Conformi­ty of Religions, Common interest, Glory and Honor, shall be valued as things indifferent: Yet you shall not finde really the Utile you may pretend to in this unworthy Action, wherein you appeared. Is there any one who knowes the principles of Policy, and of that art which teacheth Kinges to raigne? and understands not, that a powerfull neighbour is ever terrible? That it is very advantagious, that Seas and Mountaines separate their estates from ours; To that end, That both the one and the other may be as bounds to resist their avarice and ambition? and if a Prince lesse powerfull then he, both in respect of the numbers of his Subjects, and in the extent of his Dominions, lye in the way as a guard to our Frontires, and be scituate in the midst of two Potentates as an eternall obstacle to the unjust Usurpation both of the one and the other; is there not a clearer possibility of secu­rity? Were it not much better for the Republique of Venice, that the Thrones of the Kings of Hungary shall not be toucht or shaken, and that the Valour of those Princes shall be able to protect the Country: Then to see those Dominions invironed with Janizaries, and the Colours of [Page 27] Mahomets Crescents Flourishing amidst the standards of Saint Marke? Know you not that their very neighbourhood hath begot an eternall jealousie? And that jealousie of a Rivall (so prevalent and too potent for us may possesse us with fears? Do you not consider how that such an irreconcileable Enemie will never want pretexts to demand? And that successe will dayly feed new expectation; Finding fortune so favourable, our resistance so weak, and our losse so infinite? Will such accesses tempt a soul more moderate then such a one as lodgeth in a M [...]ho [...]etans breast? Do you not discern that the formidable pow­er of the Otto [...]ans is like unto a contagious disease, which is best pre­vented or healed at a distance? Can you Venetians believe that the Turks should prove better neighbours then the Christians? And that the Policy of the Alcoran is more perswasive then the Moralls of the Gospell? Have you not experienced that antient Friends make more firm Amity then new? And how that the body politique is like the body naturall, in which every mutation proves dangerous? Do you not finde that the ambition of Conquerors is like the Waves of the Vast Ocean, which is neither willingly limited with Bancks nor Bot­tome? And that the ambition of Mahomet the second runns as a devouring Fire, which hastens to consume so many Empires, and so many Kingdomes? What security then can you have in the amity of a Prince of so haughty an humor? And what great advantage can you gain by this new Alliance, to ingage you to such Obligations? Can you hope that this proud Turke can admit you to share in his Con­quests? Can you pretend to expect a proportion in the spoiles of Hungary? Do you not know that the Warres of Nations Civi­lized, are waged chiefly for the obtaining of Glory and true Re­nown? And how the Warrs of Barbarous Nations are raised in a design of Pillage and Plunder? As the sole marke of their enterprizes, and object of their Armies, who in their Conquests regard not the auxili­aries of their Victory? and those whose ambition is insatiable, finde all too little to satisfie themselves, having no thoughts of contenting others? Who knowes not that avarice as well as ambition, and Cruel­ty, arries on the Turkes with a predominant inclination? that that Na­tion never acts by any other Principle? And who can be ignorant, but that your new Allies will (at length) leave you in the lurch? On the the other side, In the Condition wherein Hungary and Christendom then were, might not Mahomet the second easily discern that you joy­ned your forces unto him out of a particular interest; And therein ra­ther sought your own safety then his glory? That you left us, to preserve your selves? And that you begged his amity, to avoid his wrath? that base feares made your progresse, and not true Friendship or love? That (in truth, and purely) you onely regarded your owne advantage, and therefore made a shamefull alliance, with one, whom you as much hated as feared? What Obligation can be stronge in a matter of this nature? and what reason have you to hope for any thing under the pretence of such a favour? Moreover, when he shall observe how cruelly you have forsaken (and that in extremity) your antient Allies, your neighbours, and your brethren, connected to you by the Ligaments of the same Religion, Lawes and Manners, what assurance can you fancy that Mahomet shall have in your pro­mises, having seen you violate such sacred obligations? And what [Page 28] credit shall he give unto your words, having known you so notori­ously to forfeit your Faith? We may adde yet, if that which ratifieth treaties, renders alliances assured, and peace durable, is, That, treaties, Alliances, and Peaces, are equally advantagious to Kings, Soveraigns, Princes or Republicks, Who make them because that equality is ne­cessary, and reciprocall advantages oblige the one and the other to an exact observation of the Articles concluded betwixt them; What pro­portion then of equality can there be between the Republick of Ve­nice and the Vast Empire of Turkie? What advantage can the Turks receive from your feeble Troops, who is a Conqueror attended with so many Millions of Souldiers? what profit think you to gain from him who swallowes Scepters and Crownes as little morsells? Who depopulates more Kingdomes and Empires then you have Townes in your Dominions? Whose formidable Armies cover the largest Campanies, and traversing the mighty Plaines, drink up whole Rivers where they are encamped? Is not this your alliance as the oblation of a shallow Brook to the Ocean, when you joyne your slender Troopes to his mighty Armies? and is not this a signall error, to dream that your handfull of Forces should be considerable amongst such infinite numbers? Can you believe that Mahomet should religiously observe Articles of confederation wherein he could finde neither the increase of his profit or glory? To adde nothing else from the dangerous ex­ample that you (Venetians) have given him; what alliances may not the Turke violate without all scruple? Is it possible that the history of the Turks is so utterly a stranger to you, that you know not how that impious and barbarous Nation make publick profession of infidelity, and how they frame to themselves such maxims, that, it is lawfull for them to break all Articles of what condition soever? to recede from any Oaths, and to violate Faith and all ingagements? and to jeere at the Lawes and rights of Nations? Have you never heard them call the Christians, Jaours, that is, Doggs? and from that injury raise an argument, and consequently conclude that they are not obliged to keeep their words with doggs? Do they not barbarously breake Faith and promises with those of their own Nation, as well as with their E­nemies? How perfidious was Baiazet, who, after the death of his Fa­ther, sent to seek for Soloman his elder Brother, upon pretence of a de­sire to have him Crowned; And having abused the facility of that Prince, caused him inhumanely to be strangled, and so introduced a barbarous example into the Family of the Ottomans, which hath been but too often imitated since that horrid precedent? Orchan the second, Emperour of the Turkes, feigned an argreement with some Princes of Asia, thereby more easily to delude some others; And after he had devoured his first Contractors, with lesse difficulty destroyed the o­thers according to the Stratagems of his own devices. Did you never read (in the Roman History) the remarkable Embleme of the bundle of arrowes? which bound up together were not easily bro­ken, but taken asunder, each single arrow was frangible by the weak­est arme? Have you been so little conversant in the terrestriall Globe, that ye knew not your selves heretofore too near neighbours to that Prince on the Coast of the Archipelagus; But that you must likewise desire to border upon Friult and Dalmatia? the Fountaines and the Ri­vers which divide themselves into lesser streames, are not much con­siderable: [Page 29] But united into one great body, they compose and make up an Ocean which may terrifie the boldest adventurers. You may conclude, that if Christian Princes and Republiques held a Faithfull Correspondency and firme Union, both the one and the other might without doubt resist the Turkish Power, and stop the progresse of his dangerous Conquests, with great facility: But when we see the Christians themselves divided, this potent Enemy may with more ease destroy them all, singling out each Kingdome or Republick apart. Oh, you Venetians, none of these just considerations have prevailed to perswade you, being transported with the Violence of particular In­terests. The present condition of affaires was more Prevalent with you then to admit a Praevision of future dangers: and your Caecity was so great, that you have desperately cast your selves into an Abysse; thinking thereby to avoide a precipice. Observe then the justice of God upon the heads of the offenders. They (on the grounds of false­hood & imprudence) Contriving vainly to preserve themselves from one perill, have cast themselves headlong into another; Their impi­ous craft seducing them to deceive others, deluded themselves. Their subtile policy seemed to teach them perfectly the art of Go­vernment, when the events discover'd the errors of their maximes. It is true then (as the Scripture witnesseth) that God insatuateth the wicked in their own designes, and disperseth them as a Clowd, and causeth them to Vanish as smoake. By all that I have said, it appears thereby, that Ju­cundum, Honestum, and Utile, were not the arguments which perswaded you to this Savage action. I may rightly conclude then, that by a meer inclination to an evill end, you were willing to destroy us, and have found a Malignant rejoycing in our sorrowes without the Knowledge of that wherein consists true joy. Why was this evill undertaken by you; Unlesse you had been borne to do no good? But seeing this ex­cuse is not sufficient for rationall men, who act not as beasts, but ac­cording to reason and election of what they voluntarily choose, e­qually inclined to good or evill, vice, or Virtue: Are not we in a just expectation of a Vicissitude, and Change; that Vindicative Justice may recompence all your evills? We well understand that Martiall Lawes admit Letters of Reprizall; the most rigorous of the moralists, allow us to resist Invaders, to defend us from their Violence, and to repell their Forces; And if the Law of God ordained an eye for an eye, and life for life in the punishment of Crimes, ought not we imitate your selves, seeing the day is changed, and affaires have a better presence? May not we now go and contract an alliance with Mahomet the se­cond, and refuse to aid you, who denyed succours first to us? Might not we joyn our Forces with his, giving him assistance with our Coun­sells and Souldiers, whereby we might impower him to ravage your Frontiers, defeat your Armies, storme your strongest Townes, in­slave your Generalls, chase you not onely from the main Continent, but even from all the Isles you hold in the Archipelagus? This fa­vourable Conjuncture may afford us an obligation to mix our Colours with his ensignes, and so magnanimously march against that superbe Town, and those aspiring Ramparts which obumbrate the Adria­tique Sea, and command imperially all the adjacent shores. Yes (without doubt) we are obliged: and as far as humane reason can reach to judge, in the fresh memory of your greater cruelty, you me­rit [Page 30] to be destroyed, and we revenged, and Venice deserves to be in­slaved and chastised severely, as a spectacle to all ages to come, to teach all Republicks not to refuse, so barbarously, and cowardly, their assistance to their ancient Allies. Wee might listen now to these sweet temptations, & chiefly to that to which the greatest souls are most inclin'd, Haughty and pleasant Revenge. The occasion is now favourable: And Fortune seems to answer us with plenary sa­tisfaction: You have refused your succours, we may then justly de­ny ours: You have made Alliance with our Enemy, we may (as just­ly) doe the like with yours: You joyned your Troops with his, we may as equally joyn our Armies: You aided him to our defeat, wee can aid him to your utter ruin: You thought you could destroy our Kingdome, we are assured we could make your Republick a deso­lation: You have been the cause of the sad death of two of our Kings, and we are able (if we please) to sacrifice upon their Tombes your Duke and Senators: You aided our Enemie to rout our Armies on the Plains of Var [...]ey and Cosola, we are able to demolish your high Walls, to burn your fair City, and to force you to flye into the same Rocks and Caves where your Ancestors did hide themselves to lie more se­cure from the violence of the Hunnes: Yes (Venetians) we can do this, nay in some sort we ought; but God is pleased to moderate our wills. That which you have done heretofore strikes us with such horror, that we cannot imitate you: If you can forget that we are men, yet we cannot forget that you are Christians. He who pleased to com­mand us to love our enemies, cannot but approve us in pardoning our Allies, how criminous soever they have been. Seeing then (to make relation of affairs as they are) we have an opportunity of Revenge, what can be more Illustrious to the greatest spirits, then to see those who have offended them, reduced to a sharp necessity, and become humble Petitioners? This sufficeth (Venetians) and is enough to cause us to lay down our Armes, or rather to take them up, thereby to pro­tect you against that enemy which now assaults you. We do not de­sire your blood to wash away your crimes, your tears shall serve to ex­piate. Those two great Princes which your rigour hastened to Hea­ven, and layd in their Tombes, will not condemne our Clemencie, who, though they have lost their Terrestriall Crowns, yet parted with them to become glorious Martyrs; an honour more precious then all earthly glory: Who, as they are in the state of Immortality, have no thoughts of Revenge: And it cannot but agree with their Celestiall Judgement to be least Vindicative in the way to Glory: They have poured out their bloud, and lost their lives for the good of Religion, and will approve (without question) that we blot out the memory of our own misfortunes, as well as your Errors, in relation to the well­fare of the same Religion. Seeing therefore these happy Saints have received that recompence which their services have purchased for them, and that they enjoy a felicity which shall never terminate, but be coaeternall with the memory of those grand actions they accom­plished: since they have received within the Church Triumphant those glorious Palmes which their atchievements purchased in the Church Militant; and that they more perfectly know in God (where all things are known) the Justice of that Cause they defended: That they blesse God every moment for the wounds which they received, and the death [Page 31] they suffered for so good a cause: And seeing that all good is communica­ble in its own nature, and that they cannot but concurre in approba­tion to what we now shall doe in our resolution of so holy and gene­rous an ambition so suitable to Christianity: We shall not refuse to aid you with succours, as you now doe desire, nor faile to support you in so just an enterprise. But, on the contrary, wee are ready to passe with you over the Danube, nay to march before you to destroy the Turkish Territories, and we shall dispatch one of our Heraulds to denounce a Warre against them, as soon as the Spring approacheth. We hope the issue will be succesfull, however wee shall not faile of our duty, and we shall employ all our Forces, and all that depends on us to this purpose. But you must likewise for your part (all the same time) advance to Peloponesus to cause a diversion, and to amuse our enemies, being at the same instant at severall places to be attemp­ted. See (Venetians) what our Resolutions are for the Republick of Ve­nice, in favour to that Senate because Christian, that is to say, to sacri­fice the memory of our particular injuries for the good of the generall affairs, and private losses for publick safety.

The Censure.

THose who conclude that the greatest Victories are most glori­ous, resolve withall, That it is the hardest difficulty to com­mand and conquer ones self. And when a favourable occasion is presented of sweet revenge: That passion tempteth a moderate soul, and shaketh the affections of the best temper. And if the means of revenge be so uncertain, and rare to be found, it is more incomparably dif­ficult to refuse the occasion when it freely offer it self. It is in this rencounter when the Spaniard makes that prayer, Guarda me Dios de mi, God defend me from my self. And it is truly necessary; for if a soul be not guarded with the shield of Virtue: It must (without doubt) yeeld in such a dangerous combat. And if any particular obstacles prove more violent: How outragious then are the passions of Princes! And those who fancy to themselves, that they can will nothing but what they ought? And when able to act what they will, being in power, are not they most apt to destroy and ruinate those who have provoked them? To restraine then the Thunderbolt from falling on the heads of the offendors, is something Divine, or (at least) above ordinary humane power. Execution belongs to the Hangman; but grace and pardon to the Gods. And certainly the Theorie of this science is more facile then the Practice. Princes seldome forget (in such affaires) that Justice is divided into two parts; and that part which is called Vindicative, is no whit lesse equitable then that other, because it seems lesse humane. Those who say they would punish if they were not in choler, are as rare as the Phoenix; and History (in generall) makes no men­tion more of the one, then the other; that is, it speaks little or nothing but of the first: For it is very difficult for the same person to be mild, and mighty; to be able to punish, and yet to pardon; to be in a capacity to revenge, and yet ra­ther to relieve: It is very difficult, instead of destroying of an Enemy, to study, and adventure for his preservation. From all these arguments wee rightly understand how perfectly that Prince was accomplished, how great his Virtue, [Page 32] how magnificent his Generosity, of whom we have spoken. Doubtless he under­stood not only the Philosophy of Aristotle, and Seneca, but likewise the Morals of Christianitie, which (without all exception) are the most excellent and su­rest Foundations. He well knew that the King of Kings is called the God of Vengeance, who reserves that punishment (primely) to himself, as be­ing onely capable to render it without passion, and to punish with­out interest. He understood that the sight of his Enemies, prostrate at his feet, was far more glorious then to see them in their Graves; and to lock on them weeping with their eyes, then weltring in their blood. That to have a power to revenge is as equally satisfactory as revenge it self. Certainly with what ever eye we view this grand action, we must conclude, that it was very Glorious; which was not as the Painters Art, who by optical delusions, change the face of things ac­cording to the diversities of severall Viewes. But on the contrary which way soever wee look, this action was semper eadem, and most admirable: Yet if wee look in­to the exact rules of Policie (without any consideration to the Maxims of Reli­gion) according to those Principles, who doubts not, but that this Prince did ill, and that his Progresse herein, was more generous then prudent? He was fully satisfied [...]hat the Turks held not for his enemies onely the Greekes, Hunga­rians, and Venetians; but likewise all Christians; and that he designed a publicke ruine to them all. This moved him to a generous Considera­ration, and from former unkind passages to raise and accomplish future advan­tages; thereby avoiding to make himselfe a sad example to ruine his own King­domes, by endeavouring a revenge upon the Venetians. This great Prince act­ed as became him: In which noble work his wisedome and bounty equally proposed and obtained an immortall Commendation in the mouths of all men. There are who say that Valour operateth in the Soul, as the heat of the Sun in Plants and other Vegetables. For as the Sun exhaleth Poison from Hemlock and A­conite, and maketh who some remedies with the Virtues of other herbes; So doth Valour produce divers effects in different Soules. She makes the Lyon generous, but the Tiger cruell. I conceive we may place Mahomet the second amongst the Savage Tygers both for his ferocity and rage; whose power wasted two Empires, and tw [...]nty Kingdoms, and consumed the proude infortunate City of Constan­tinople; with whose spoyles, was presented unto him a beautifull unparallell'd La­dy: She used her choicest skill to please him, and he seemed to love and adore her. (For Tygers will love, though it last not) He treated this beauty with the variety of all delights. His courage was turned to sighes, his Valour inchanted with imbraces, which infram'd him day and night with inextinguishable sparkes of love. At last, this insolent Conqueror was vanquisht by his own slave, and was a Vassall to that lovely Greek: In the mean time his greedy Souldiers (fed with prey and Pillage) began to murmure at their Emperours stupidity, and to revile him as an inglorious Commander. This Tyger (at last) awaked w [...]i [...] the taunts and scornes of the rude multitude, and his rage being newly incensed, (shall I be able to speak, much lesse to believe so horrid a Fact) he tore in peeces this innocent and unfortunate beauty, caused her head to be cut off with a Syme­ter, whom he had adored as a Goddesse, and to whom he had offered the Victime of his heart a hundred times, he became strangly cruel, and with his own hand stroke off the head of her who had enamoured his heart. And, notwithstanding his love streamed betwixt her blood and teares; He then said, here (O Souldiers) be­hold the subject of your discontents, made now your sacrifice in my displeasure.

MAHOMET the Greate, who was the greatest scourge to Christendome of all the Turkishe Emperours. He subdued Mentesia, wined Constanti­nople, overcame Craia, Subdued Pera, Peleponesus, and Castria, tooke Otrunto, and soe in going against the Caramanian King, died. Ano. 1483.


MAHOMET THE SECOND, To his JANIZARIES.

I Have ever believed, that thorough all the extents of my Empire, I have none to my Subjects but Slaves and Vassalls; That I am the Soveraign Judge of the actions of all men, who live under my pow­er: and that no person whatsoever dares to judge of me, The sacred Character, which distinguisheth Crowned heads from those of others, ought to be in violable in my person. It belongs not to them who are to obey, to dare to Command, nor is it for the People to intermedle with their Lords, who by all Rights may dispose of their lives as they please; And if Soveraign Princes be their Masters and Commanders (which is a right unquestionable) they are not (in any Case) to be their Judges. These two qualities are ut­terly incompatible; It is then undeniably necessary that there must be either no Th [...]ones, or an alsolute obedience to them, without all dispute or re­serves; otherwise, there will be neither Slaves nor Subjects, Tributaries nor Vassalls; This were to usurpe Soveraign authority over all Princes; to disgrace and dissolve the Power and splendor of Crownes, and Scepters; To admit of as many Subjects as Kings, and as many Masters as men. Which disorder once permitted, a generall confusion must speedily and inevitably succeed. But (to speake the truth without ostentation) I beleeve few Princes have better learn't the Art of Go­vernment then my selfe. It is true, I could not alwaies obstruct you from that insolency which once broke forth, sawsily to censure and condemn my actions, after you had so many thousand times extolled and commended my enterprizes, which heaped Glory on you. As for my self (I freely protest) I know no just cause for your rash temeri­ty: For If you respect me as your lawfull Prince, and as descended from the antient Ottomans; What respects do yee not, by the bonds of nature, owe me? And if you consider me as a Conqueror, and behold me amidst my Trophies, where I am attended with so many Scepters and Crownes which I have obtained with so much illustrious fortitude and Gallantry; what veneration ought you not to pay me? Or if you look upon me as meerly your Prince, whose inclination is rather to exact­nesse of justice, then to any softnesse or mercy; And whose authority is laid in the Foundation, & tempered in the blood of those who have been nearest to me (though the Grandees of my Empire) what fear and reve­rence ought not to possesse you? And having advanced so much plen­ty to your Provinces, having Conquered twelve Kingdoms, and two entire [Page 34] Empires, gained two and thirty Field Battailes, and fought in person more then in an hundred reencounters; Having given such solemn examples of my Iustice, which hath ever appeared to be very near allied to Cruelty (Es­pecially to those who would not know how unlimited our bounds were) After (I say) all these effects the splendor of my Actions, the Grandeur of my Triumphs, the acknowledgement of my Victories, the dread & fear of my Chastisements, could not all these restrain you from base and rude repinings, but that you must needs carry seditious fire to my Seraglio? and after so many Warrs, so many hazards, so much pain and travell, because mine eyes glanced upon a Beauty to mur­mur at my repose, enchanted with the sweet charmes of her pleasant conversation? But as unjust and impudent as you are, see how after I have conquered others, I can as easily conquer my self: Behold the sad Victory that I here present; and by the Victors tears guess at the difficulty which I met with grapling with such a soul-inchanting E­nemy. You (cruell villaines) know, that this fair and unfortunate person, without arms, and without offence, hath given me more trou­ble then the most potent Enemies. Not able to satisfie your rage with the removall of my affections, I have taken away her life, and with one blow of a Cymeter cut off her head to satisfie your unjust desires. To establish my Throne I have rended my heart from my self. Doe you not thinke that this faire blood which I have spilt to gratifie your thirsty lusts, shall (sometime or other) extract brack­ish tears from your eyes? No, no, you shall not be discharged at so easie a rate. You will say (perhaps) you would have your Prince in­tirely without the affections of Love, and to aym at nothing but am­bition: You wish for War, and you shall have enough; I shall leade you into such eminent dangers, that you shall see that hee shall have honour that dares to follow me; where, if you be not Cowards, you shall satisfie with your blood for that which you have forced mee to spill. I must sacrifice at least a hundred crowned heads, if I shall propor­tion Oblations equall to what you have seen me offer; and I ought to offer up my self if I intend to expiate the fault of those who have constrained me to commit an action so barbarous. Yet seeing in sa­crificing my self I might lose vengeance fit for you, it is necessary that I survive to punish you, to the end to make insolent Subjects know how to respect Princes with greater honour, and to teach Kings how to chastize barbarous vassals. Those who shall refuse to pay to their Sove­raigns just Tributes, are more excusable then those who dare to cen­sure their Actions, and to pass their judgement on their Soveraigns Government. It is a thing very naturall to love and keep Gold, Pearls, and Diamonds, which inrich a Family, and serve for the con­veniency of Life: But to ravish Majesty of her Glory, and explicate Roy­all Intentions with opprobrious Insolencie, is a crime as far from pardon as excuse: It could bring no advantage to the offendors, and therefore the more irremissible. Should Kings dive and search into the crimes and errors of their Subjects, how ugly would they appear? Is there any one of you whom love, hatred, avarice, revenge, ambition, or envy, hath not transported to commit a hundred faults? which because they have not offended civill societie, and have not been complained of to me, you have not so much as been reproached. And why then (unjust Censurers as you are) should I deigne to answer before you (not for any crimes) [Page 35] For as towards you Kings cannot commit them. Yet (not being insensi­ble of what is past) What if I suffered my self to bee caught with the most accomplisht Beauty that ever was borne under Heaven? Trouble not your selves at the occasion of this accident, that glance is over; you shall never more complaine of my effeminate tender­nesse: As is was the first in your observation, it shall be the last in my passion. In the mean time learne from this lesson (sealed with innocent blood) that I have passed from one extremity to another; be instructed (by this faire Head separated from her body) that there is not one of you who may not fall by the same destinie: And by this high, and great example, learne to serve and fear those who can as easily destroy you. Of all the Crimes which Subjects can commit, that which you have perpetrated is (without doubt) more directly oppo­site to Soveraignty. To passe a censure, or to whisper sediticusly against the Actions of Princes, is a sinne so notorious, as none but you durst presume to fancie. As for all other things which you might conceit against him, hee can preserve himselfe. If you should attempt his life, his Guards and personall Valour might prevent your Treason and mis­chiefe; But from malitious tongues there is no protection. Yet know, the more envious you are towards your Prince, the more you you eter­nize his glory. And when your Prince (in his solitary thoughts) is most se­rious for your prosperity; it is then (usually) when you censure his carefull re­tirements, laziness, or idlenesse. Not considering how much his active soul contributes towards your quiet, nor his care to your repose. Think not that the sacred Character of Princes (which distinguisheth them from their Vassals) consisteth meerly in the magnificence of their attendance, the puissance of their Armies, and in the riches of their Treasures. No, it is not all this that compleateth the Majesty of Kings, nor doe these royal occurrences onely command your obedience, and make Kings to raign. But it is an honour and obedience seated in the very foundations of your soules, in which garb you ought to approach to their throne with adoration. And you are bound to beleeve (as toward yourselves) that your Prince cannot erre as towards his vassals. This may teach you not to intermeddle with his actions, not to resist his Government, not to demand or Peace, or Warre, to will what he liketh, and to believe that his pleasure is not unjust. It is upon this Basis of Loyalty and obedience that the foundation of Majesty is built; and whereby it is solely preserved: Who ever failes in this originall duty may easily fail in all others. It is the Commence­ment of all Seditions, the ground of all Revolts, the Platform of all Paricides, Rebellions, and Treasons. It is most important then for all Princes to keep their subjects strictly to their duty, which entertaineth a true tranqui­lity of their Estates: And makes them raign & live as Kings. The mar­vellous harmony which governeth the Universe, may serve as a rule to all Princes and people of the World: Since the beginning of all ages, the Rivers have glyded quietly without retortion towards their Fountaines. The Sea containes it self within its bounds, the Heavens are constant and infallible in their motions, the whole course of nature orderly obeys their primi [...]ive Commands, those streames which passe over the Gravell and Sand, are not envious at those which flow over the flowry Meadowes. The serpents crawle on the Earth, without envie to the birds which fly in the air, each Creature continues satisfied in that degree to which it hath been first assigned by its Soveraign; quietly resolved by native obedience, to render that honour to the Creator which is due: And I [Page 36] wish that all people would render to their Princes (whom Heaven hath designed to be their Lords and Masters) that which is due to them from their Subjects as their birthright naturally obligeth them. Then (without dispute) they might be more happy in their quali­ties; And if the Prince be more vertuous, their obedience will but render them more fortunate and glorious: If evill and wicked, the Subjects are bound the more to conceal and obscure his vices and er­rours, or (at least,) so to compose themselves, as that they will not discern [...]ny infirmities or imperfections in their Prince to his prejudice and dishonor. For as there is no virtue, but a vice attending, hath some resemblance to it which every moralist cannot suddainly distinguish: So is it with the Subject, they cannot discern what is exact Justice: Or that Vice which so much resembles it, which is Cruelty: They cannot conclude rightly whether their Prince be Prodigall or Liberall, whether he lo­veth Peace or feareth Warre, whether timorous or prudent, rash or Couragious, Provident or Covetous. And therefore Princes who every moment dispose of their lives, ought not to be subject to their judgement, nor submit to their Censure. Their businesse, is chiefly to study vertue, to practice Obedience, and to referre the Government to their Princes pleasure; Commending themselves to Common Providence of suc­ceeding Events. Murmurs and reprehensions of Vassalls never reform Princes. And they who dare to use such improper addresses, are like those who throw stones up into the air, which fall on the heads of those which cast them; who, if they wound not themselves, yet are they in danger, or else they fall to no purpose. But (perhaps you will say to me) our Complaints, our Murmurs, our Cryes have rowsed your Va­lour from being longer lull'd and charmed with the imbraces of love: And that you have not onely quitted the object of your passion, de­stroyed and removed it, but likewise sacrificed that which we con­tended that you should forsake: at least we have gained this advan­tage, that we have our desires and more then we expected. To all this I reply, that I have done as much as you say, but do you withall know the reason of this proceeding? It is to teach you with some terror, never to presume to censure any Actions again: For (I lye not) in this Conjecture you have most deceived your selves, you believed that love had ba­nished the thoughts of honour from my heart; That the wanton plea­sures of peace had robbed me of the desires of Glory in Warre; And that I had been so accustomed to prostrate my will to the beauty of a fair slave, that I had forgotten the art to Command and rule men; And when I lead the Damsell to the Scaffold, you (doubtlesse) con­ceived that I ascended thither to make an Apologie as Captivated intirely by that fair Lady, and slain by the darts of her beautifull eyes. But understand once more, You are too low and ignorant to be my judges, and that it belongs to me to be yours. I doubt not but that you will (with much difficulty) digest the strangnesse of this accident, and that now you acknowledge your selves not to be my Judges, but witnesses to ap­prove the Action which I have done in your presence. Some may pre­sume in their thoughts to account this as barbarous, others will say that the fair bloud which I have spilt, will blemish the brightnesse of mine honor: Some will conclude that by this Action I have gained more then by a Battail; And in others let thoughts be free. If I be not deceived, they dare not speak but what pleaseth me, or else they do but whisper [Page 37] very low. This example is high enough to strike a terrour into those who have vapoured of their owne insolencie in murmuring against mee, and to perswade all Kings, that It is better policie to render them­selves formidable, and to live more in their Subjects fear, then in their love. But if any one shall object, the severity of Justice is speedily trans­formed into Cruelty: I answer; It is much better to think too little, then too much of Clemencie. I confesse, Cruelty may make the Subjects miserable, but Clemencie may make them criminall: A severe Prince banisheth Vice from his Estate: When the indulgent doth tollerate and authorize it, and makes it his usuall recompence. It were better then that Subjects should complaine of their Princes, then that they should bee forced to com­plaine of their Subjects. Murmur then (you Vassals) at my severity if you have cause. In the resolution I am in, your accusation will rather prove an honour then an injurie. I have been severe to my self in taking away her life who was the chiefest satisfaction to my owne. And I doe not thinke that any Age (heretofore) can present us so rare an example. It is now our pleasure to resolve you that the Charmes of love, and the thoughts of honour lodge not in my breast at the same instant; Concluding the repose of our present estate to be rendred more se­cure by so strange a precedent. If I had admitted this fair Greek to at­tend me in a March, and that her dalliances had separated mee from the Councels and dangers of Warre, then you might have murmur­ed. If I had lockt her within my Seraglio, the Jealousies of my Sul­tanaes might have attempted her person, and your hands revenged their Jealousie. And if you had been her Executioners, I had still justified my self as Emperour and Conquerour of what I possesse, though she were destroyed. But rather see this inevitable Fate and Tragedy acted by my selfe in person. I did beleeve it farre better that shee should fall by such an illustrious hand, then to expose her (whom my soul so loved) to your prophane rudenesse. And as we read of some Fathers who have sacrificed their own children gloriously for the in­terest of their Country, I may do the like, and cause my Mistris to dye for my glory, and the Interest of mine own Empire, without suspition of fear or ignominy. This act is nothing else but the cutting off the thread of her life, not the shortning of mine; the destroying of her beauty, not of my self; the closing up the splendour of her eyes, not the obscuring of mine own; and though I be robbed of her for ever, yet am I not deprived of the variety of other pleasures. Now as Kings live not onely to themselves, but must render an account of their actions, not to their subjects, but to their Posterity, and Kings their Successors, (I hope) in sacrificing this object of my love, I have sufficiently testifi­ed, that all things ought to submit to true honour and renown: That this sole interest ought to supersede all others: And that no other consi­deration should bee able to interpose in a soul truly Heroick. To bend towards the conclusion, A Prince who acts not with a noble resent­ment above all others, is not worthy of the quality of that high condition: And whosoever refuseth an occasion (fitly offered) merits not to have it. It is by so fair a temptation wherein you were so fouly criminous, that I omitted not to listen to your murmurings. Having then so cru­elly commenced a Warre against my selfe, it becomes me to continue it against mine enemies with an equall valour; and it is your duty to repair your crime by their defeat; and so to merit your lives (which [Page 38] I give you) by taking away theirs, by pouring out their bloud for spa­ring of yours; and that you expiate a pittiful death with an illustrious Victory. Pardon (sairslave) him who hath pardoned thine Enemies, our of meer consideration to his honour: I have been an Infidell to true renown for love of thee. I have abandoned the design of new Conquests, not revenged the hatred of mine Enemies, and retarded the desire of Victory: But this imperious Mistresse of Heroick soules (whose Domination is so absolute) could not suffer thee longer to be her Rivall. She demands from me my heart intirely, and I have not power to resist her: She hath possessed me from my infancy, and she will enjoy me to my end: I have forsaken thee, (tis true) but tis for that, for which Alexander, the Caesars, and all Princely Heroes of Antiquity have se [...]rched to the d [...]a [...]h. Be contented then that I am rendred an Infidell to my promise for a moment, and that I find it not ill to be longer in­chanted or imprisoned in thy beauty. Tis true, thy life must be short, but thy Hearse shall be the more Magnificke, and thy Memory more illustrious, when I shall make the spoiles of Kingdoms pendants [...]o thy Tomb: Come then (brave Souldiers) Come, let us March to graspe their Standards and Ensignes in our hands. And all those Trophies of Honour and Triumph which make Victories more bright and glori­ous in the peoples eyes. You shall see that the Passions of love cannot cause me to forget the honour of Warre; But that I know still how to Command and fight: And I pray Heavens that you have not (for your part) forgot to follow and to obey me, having in so high a de­gree already forgot your duty. Know (Souldiers) that I caused not this fair Lady to dye, but as I found her a Cloud and Obstacle to the splendor of my name. Look to it then, that your Cowardice Eclips not the beams of my honour: For if such an accident shall arrive, no­thing shall be able to preserve you from my indignation, nor from the most exquisite punishments. I shall then recompence two horrid Crimes at one time; Consider then, and be not lesse hardy with your hands, then you have been sawcy with your tongues. I know well (ac­cording to ordinary Custome) instead of threatning you, I should gently intreat you to the Warrs, and suffer your affronts: But in this Conjuncture my Prudence is more fit and usefull. For if you shall prove Cowards, my Enemies will punish you more severely then if you dyed in the Battail. And if you are brave Spirits, and gain the Field, you may expiate your Crimes, and obtain your Pardon. When one person offends, he is to be punished (without dispate) to terrifie others from being Malefactors; but when Multitudes become criminous, it is wisdome to draw advantage from their strength, rather then to exterminate their persons. Those who have taken the boldnesse to rebell against their Prince being Sove­raignly commanded, may prove stout and Valiant against his Enemies when there is a power above them to force their endeavours. Come then (Souldi­ers) come I pray let us march and fight. But as I have engaged in the word of your Emperour, I will fight with as much resolution as any private Souldier, and expose my self to equall danger. I shall pretend that you beat the Enemy, and whilest I gain the Victory, you shall raise new Trophies to our Crown. Such a successe may redeem your Crimes from the Guilt of innocent bloud which you have spilt, and recover you to that Innocency which you have lost: Such an act may appease the rage of your displeased Prince, and discharge you from [Page 39] that Odium, Infamie and Tortures, which your black Rebellion hath contracted upon you. You know well that I have confined my Cle­mency to limits of restraint, but my Justice never. Place not then your hopes in the former, but your Dread and Fear in the latter. Souldiers (who are generous) ought to fear nothing more then dishonor, and to hope for no other thing then Victory. You may yet avoid the one, and ob­tain the other: But you shall not be able to escape my revenge if you prove Cowards, not faile to meete with death if you be not Victorious.

The Censure.

I Shall cause this fair head to be cut off when I please, said the Cruell Emperour, to the Mistris of his affections, when he seemed violent in his Caresses and imbraces; yet as barbarous as his expression was, there can be no Compare betwixt the verball terror of a lust full Tyrant, and the savage action of this Tiger Mahomet; The language of the first was but like a flash of light­ning, quickly over. But the wrath of the second was the destroying Thunderbolt. The first motions of the souls and hasty rash words slip often from us inconsiderately, and yet are notranked in the number of mortall sinns: No not by the most severe and strictest Casuists. It is confessed, that a good man may have wicked thoughts, and yet those (quickly dying) grow not up to the shape of sinns; though their Conceptions be abominable, yet in a second reflection the soul disliking them, and the will re­nouncing such sinfull Cogitations, it may be fairly granted that sin­full thoughts, and rash words suddainly repented, are very pardona­ble. There is no imagination so pure which our fantasies can present, but conceived in a tumult, as well have their pardon as imperfection: But within a soul, which radically preserves Innocency, abortive Cogitations vanish away as Clouds: They are as the Creatures Ephemeroy, which dye the same day they are born: Or yet if they have any being, it is so exiguous, that it is scarce visible. But as for this Action of this Monster Mahomet, it was not of that nature; He compleated his Vilany by acting what he had thought, and spoke: Circumstancing his Cruelty, with deiberation, making no use of time to repent or return from what he intended. What his imagination conceived, his understanding examined, and his will approved as good: Commanding his hand to commit the Crime, which that member could not have acted, but by the impetuous pleasure of the will. It was his disordered ambition that transformed the Emperour to become the Executioner; Love was not then the predominant passion, he submitted his soule to another affection more powerfull and Tyrannick; And the fear of exposing his authority to a hazard, supplyed him with courage to perpetrate that which I am hardly able to leave in History; So highly doth this Action (in my judgement) deserve to be concluded Barbarous and unnaturall. Policy is a most necessary guide to Government; And it is then best, when regulated by the Maxims of Religion, whose sacred direction permits not power to transgresse beyond the bounds of reason, truth and equity: Otherwise Policy is but like a keen sword in the hand of a furious Mad-man. The thoughts of a wise man (where Religion is wanting) grow up into horrid Crimes. And that which Philosophers and Legislators propose as an universall good, turnes to evill, and proves a plague and punishment to [Page 40] particular persons. This Prince (of whom we have spoken) (if one so barba­rous deserve so noble a name) caused it to be written upon his Tomb, That his design was to ruin Rhodes, and stately Italy. Let us not admire then, if one who designed that his ambition should live on his Sepulcher when he was dead, stuck not to take away that life which he feared might bee an obstacle to his fatall ambition. Such proceedings as these are much like to those of angry Lions, who usually strangle them whom they most caresse and court. Those then whom such Tyrants love, ought to fear: for it is a question not easily decided, whether their love or hatred carry greater danger.

Now from this act of horror let us turne our eyes to a spectacle worthy of Compassion, and from this ugly Monster (who dissembled Reluctancie upon the Scaffold) let us contemplate upon a King of better merit, and so divert our thoughts with more relations of varieties.

FERDINANDO King of Castile, was so far from being austere and cruell to persons whom he affected, that he hated to be unjust to his very ene­mies. One of his Captaines named Corrall, having defrauded the King of Granada, and unworthily gained vast summes of money by the too much con­fidence which he had plac'd in his fidelitie, FERDINAND his Ma­ster esteemed himselfe obliged in honour to requite the injury: And upon this score restored to the King of Granada divers places of his Dominions which he had formerly taken from him. And so soon as he understood how much the treachery of this Gentleman of Castile had abused the credulitie of the Moorish King, he committed him to prison, he sent for that Generall (who commanded his Armies in the Frontiers of Granada) to the Court, and spake unto him as followeth.

FERDINANDO KING OF CASTILE TO THE DƲKE OF NAGERA.

IF the inconsiderate zeal of Corrall did not excuse (in some degree) as well as condemne; and if I did not judge of his Actions more by his intenti­ons then by the unhandsome effect which follow­ed, I should teach him by a punishment (as rigo­rous as just) not to trespasse any more so rashly against the honour, reputation, and glory of his Prince, nor to trangresse his orders, or exceed his Commission, whatsoever advantage his deluded reason perswaded him to beleeve, that hee might doe, or had power to effect. Seeing then that some shadow of good appears mixt with that which is e­vill, and his slight crime rellished of some tincture of Virtue, and that Clemencie is a Royall quality as well as Justice, towards which the dictate of my naturall inclination is very pliable: I have resolved to pardon him, upon condition neverthelesse; That you (Duke of Nagera, who in this case appear more just then either he or I, by detaining him prisoner, at the instant when he was culpable) shall make him know at his deliverance, that he hath at least merited a perpetuall impri­sonment: That a hundred actions which a noble Spirit (as hee was) might effect, can never countervail his failings: And that if I did not as well call to mind that I am the Father of my Subjects as their King, I should in his person imprint such a bloudy and signall mark of my anger and displeasure, that all others who are inconsiderate should be terrified by his example, and become more wise, declaring to posterity, that I never consented to a thing so unworthy the Grandeur and Majesty of Kings. If this offendor (Noble Duke) had endeavoured to breed division in the breasts of Ferdinando, and Isabella, and to sow dissention and disorder in the Royall Family; if he had withdrawn my Subjects from their duty, raised Forces in our Provinces, and armed my people against me: I shall say yet further, had he held intelligence with the King of Granada, whom he abused, and had falsly sold him more Towns then hecheated him of by his treachery; had he filled our whole Kingdome with blood, horrour, and confusion, (I shall yet mount a degree higher) If he had attempted the life of my Children, my Queen, and self, he had lesse offen­ded me, and had been more pardonable then for that crime which I mention here: For in those affairs he had onely troubled my repose, [Page 42] and shaken my power, but had not obscured my glory, or stained my reputation. I should have esteemed him unfortunate, but not so criminous; hee should have appeared mine Enemie, not my Confident. But hee offended with greater dishonour then in all these Circumstances: And if I had both lost my Crown and my life, my honour should have been still entertained (dearer to me then both) which he hazarded to ruine. Oh (Noble Duke) those who say that Princes love not Traitors, but their treasons, know not rightly the secret inclinations of Princes; nor the deformity of Treason, nor well un­derstand what they say: However I well know that the heart of Ferdi­nando, is not capable of designes so base and Cowardly; And he can safely swear, that he equally detesteth the Traitor and the Treason. It is not because I am ignorant how for many ages, interested and Cowardly Polititians have established, or (at least) endeavoured to settle as an infallible Maxime in the affaires of State; that it is permitted to sow [...]he Fox skin to the Lyons Tail (that is) to unite Craft to power, with de­sign to prosper equally from them both, as Fortune & occasion shal pre­sent. They will say, the Objects of all Kings is their Grandeur and Puissance, and that they ought not to loose any opportunity to inlarge their power, or forget any Circumstance which may serve their design. They may yet adde, that it is pertinent to use any meanes that may facilitate their arrivall to their ends; (It matters not by what Mediums obtained) That all paths which lead to the Soveraignty of a Throne are fair, and it little imports whether their Frontiers are guarded, or their limits planted in fair weather or foul, whether by Force of Armes, or snatcht from others in the night by subtlety or craft; when the pretenses have been Innocency, and the designs Ambition. In a word, such evill Judges of humane actions, have confounded noble Conquerors with Robbers, Usurpation with just titles, Good actions with bad, glory with Infamy. Such Statesmen permit, that it is lawfull to destroy, and to conceal the destroyer: They are not ashamed to allow that execrable Maxim, that nature hath made nothing in vain, nor created poisons without their end. See (Duke) the wicked rules and horrid Counsells of worldly Polititians; But these are not the guides that lead Ferdinando and Isabella: Who, before we conceive evill thoughts, or at least, dash them not in peeces in their birth, pray with all our hearts to God that he would rather take away our Scepter and our life. How great and magnificent soever a King may be (though a Conqueror) I hold a man of honour, and a Christian, of all persons most highly excellent. Innocency and true noblenesse are things of most pretious quality, and more full of Majesty then Robes of Purple or Crowns of Gold. The quiet and tranquillity which springs from a good Conscience, gives a sweet relish and satisfaction to the Soul, which no Throne of its own Vertue can afford: And whosoever is toucht with a desire of true generosity and noblenesse, can never meet with it, but in a participation and possession of a Candid and unspotted mind. If the indiscreet and ill advised Corrall, instead of those prisoners which he made me return without Ransome had brought the King of Granada in fetters; If instead of the Silver which he stole from him, he had brought to me all the gold which Christopher Columbus of Genoa pretends to be within his New-found World; If instead of those places which his Treason would have given me, he had effectively delivered to me the proud Castle of Halambra: If (I say) he had subdued unto me the whole Kingdome of Granada, surprized that great City which gave nomi­nation [Page 43] to the whole Kingdome, chased all the Moores out of Spain, and driven those Monsters into Affrica: If all these Great actions had not been done by lawful meanes; I should have disavowed them, as wel as that which he hath unworthily effected; and have refused those Crownes and Kingdoms, as well as those Townes & that Treasure, which he so basely and Cowardly obtained: But perhaps (will some one say) that the Theologie of Kings ought not to be so very scrupulous; For as their Con­dition is more eminent and high then others, so the Conduct of their affairs is the like: that what is prohibited to private subjects, is permitted to Soveraignes: And it matters not so much whether the design be lawfull and honorable, provi­ded it prove possible and profitable. Suppose we should yeild, (as having suspended our reason) to such Maxims of so dangerous error: Doth not the Polititian (in this Case) finde perfidious utility, black and odious? And when that position (which is certainly ever false) shall prove true; that Princes never ought to Act, but for their particular interest: What advantage may I look for, or what good successe may I attend? Nay, rather what evill doth not my reason perswade me to fear, and justly expect? Publick Faith, the Lawes of Nations, naturall equity ought to be sacred, and inviolable Bonds, which in all ages and all Nations ought most religiously to be observed: These are as antient as the World, and will not terminate but with it; And whosoever transgresseth these limits of justice, is not lookt upon onely as mischievous, but as monstrous; an Enemy to civill society, and a Common Perturbator of publick peace. Such a one is a horror to Heaven and Earth, and each soul lookes up­on him as an impious and sacriligious person, who deserves not the Element of Fire or Water; but being an odious offence to Nature, ought justly to have all creatures to fight against him. All People have certain Lawes and Customes which they hold, as their particular pro­prieties, not like beasts intercommoning with each others; Those Lawes of the Persians are not those of the Turks, those of the Italians are not those of the French, those of the Spaniards are not those of the English; Nor those of Poland those of the Muscovits: So may it be said of all other Nations. In this variety each person may be observant to their own Lawes without interruption to others, or infesting peace and repose of the universe; Nay without so much as a verball Con­tradiction. But it cannot be said so of publick Faith, of Jus Gentium, and naturall equity; These are things that are universally reverenced of all people and all Countries: And by Consequence, those who vio­late them cannot expect but to be detested of all men in generall. If I should then have approved the odious Action of Corrall, my Faith, my Word, my Integrity may come to be slighted, or at least suspected by all the Princes of the Earth. Which of my Allyes, in Leagues of peace might not fear my perfidious underminings? And which of my Enemies (during Warre) would give Faith to my Paroll, or affie in my Treaties? My most genuine and freest proceedings would under­goe the suspition of treachery and deceit; they would look upon my promises & engagements as baites to allure their Credulity; and listen to my propositions as Fables and lies: They would credit that all my discourse comprised under it a secret and malitious sence, they would strictly examine all my words, scorne every particular syllable, and af­ter an exact and rigorous discussion of my thoughts, they would con­clude, that they cannot be assured of any thing they pretend to; And [Page 44] for fear of exposing the grandeur and security of their estates to the hazard of Falshood, they would resolve to trouble me eternally. All persons are either my superiours, more powerfull then I, or my equals, or my inferiours: And amongst these three orders of men, not only my neighbors, but all Princes of the Universe are comprehended: And it is undoubtedly true that the first wil resolve certainly rather to oppresse me, then injudiciously to expose themselves to perill, and to be an­ticipated by me. In the choice of acting or suffering In justice, there are but few generous men that will choose the latter way. And al­though the purity of Christianity hath left us a precept of perfection, yet there are but few Christians, and rarely any Prince who is perswaded to obey that e­ternall truth, and to follow (upon any occasion) such disinterested Counsels. To speak then the truth of things (as they ought) there is no Prince who could, or ought to believe, if I had committed such infidelity, that my ruin had not been very necessary; or (for a generall good) who would not think it a brave action to endeavour all his power to hasted my fatall moment? As for the second rank, of those who are equall in power with me, their perpetuall observations of my infide­lity howerly arming them, will never suffer mee to be in any repose, nor make any League or accord with mee. The least alteration be­tween their Subjects and mine will speedily bee made a matter of State: The least disorder which shall arise in the Commerce of Trade will be interpreted as an injury to the Soveraign: The least Banke which shall be in dispute towards the Frontiers betwixt particulars, will Alarum all the Country into Commotions, as if I incroached upon their Provinces. And (in conclusion) it will fall out, that the hazard of a Battaile may decide the differences, and that the good fortune of the Victorious, or ill of the Vanquished may bring ruine to both parties, and so calme their inquietudes, and all their misap­prehensions. For the last sort, which are the weakest, though they appear most contemptible, they oftentimes prove most formidable. For as they know themselves to be in danger to lose all, so they de­port themselves more cunningly crafty to defend themselves a­gainst the oppression they feare, or misdoubt: Hereupon they en­deavour to sow the seeds of discord and division amongst the Sub­jects of an unfortunate Prince whom they fear; they incite the Male-contents, and quicken their capricious humours; they complain and murmur with seditious spirits, and interest them to their party for mutuall assistance of each other: Then they decry the present Go­vernment, reproaching the Prince, as unjust and tyrannicall, and so struggle to shake off the yoak of their obedience, and abandon his protection. And if Princes bee too strong for these factious Boute­feus, then they gather, and assemble in Conventicles; first whisper­ing their mischief in secret, and after breake out into open Confede­racies and Rebellions: In the end these unquiet, and turbulent spi­rits, (hurried away with giddy apprehensions) redouble their natu­rall activity; and having a specious pretence for their enterprize, never cease, but change and tumble untill they reduce all things in­to confusion and disorder. And having runne into that extremitie, ingender (at length) such grosse clouds and opinions upon the Prince, that hee is judged criminall; and outrages daily encreasing, the rude multitudes, like Thunder-claps, and Lightenings, threaten [Page 45] a terrible desolation. It is in vaine in such an unfortunate conjunc­ture of evils to expect any succours from Neighbours; who (if not professed Enemies) rather become Newters then Parties, or Assist­ants. This perfidiousness strikes as well an odium, as a horror to all who observe it, and gaineth pitty from no person: Nay, it is a con­dition which scarce procureth attention, much lesse compassion to the saddest complaints; and the most scrupulous persons seeme sa­tisfied, being spectators of the disgraces of a faithlesse Prince: Con­ceiving themselves to merit respects, if they augment not their mis­fortunes, and dishonour. This is not all, but how great soever their miseries bee in a visible apparance, the acts of Injustice prepare o­ther exquisite and certain evils. Princes are ordinarily the rules of their Subjects actions: And are as the Primum mobile to all their motions: Their great examples are imitated, and followed by the people; each one sees, ob­serves, and strives to follow their Prince as their guide; Complacency commen­ceth this imitation, and a submissive habitude doth continue it. If the Prince be virtuous, the people are of that inclination: If wicked, and vitious, the Subjects are apt Scholars to such a bad lesson. And as the Throne is highly elevated above ordinary ranks and degrees, so are the Princes errors least concealed, and (by consequence) the people speedily learn to i­mitate them, or study revenge against him. If it bee so, then what fidelity or confidence can that Prince have in his Subjects, who wanteth fidelity himselfe? Will not such a faithlesse Governour, who failes to regard his own word, teach his people the same pra­ctice? And will the people beleeve that Rebellion can be a greater sinne in them, then falseness can be in their Prince? Doth he think that by teaching of them that the Laws of Nations are not sacred and inviolable, he doth not likewise teach the way of dishonour, and disloyalty to Princes? Doth he beleeve (abusing the equity of Nature her self) that the people can have any respect for his injustice? May he not expect that his false and cowardly dealing wi [...]h his equals will perswade fear and hatred in his inferiours? In brief, if good Princes have so great a trouble to raign happily, how can evil Princes but expect to be destroyed with ignominie? When none of these ac­cidents shall arrive, our neighbour Princes shall live without ambi­tion, our Subjects without revolt, as having nothing to feare on earth, and shall stand in dread of nothing but him who rules in hea­ven; their love shall make them loyall, and their Princes Justice se­cure. Do not I know that God hateth the faithlesse, and their infidelity? that oathes cannot be broke without a sinne? And is not the right of Na­tions (in some divine Relation) near to heaven? Have not I learned, that I should not take the name of God in vain? And must we not then conclude, That in all Treaties which Princes make, their words and intentions are as common witnesses of their Treaties; whereby they warrant and establish engagements to each other? And shall not hee who is Lord of Lords, and Lord of hosts, as he is full of power, bee esteemed e­qually full of Justice? Can I beleeve he will approve the Injustice of any in the service of those Armies where he himself is General? And will authorize their perfideousness (who violate their promises) without Revenge? Ought we not (in reason) not onely to fear, but to beleeve (as a thing infallible) that he will remit me to the power and fortune of mine Enemies, and hurle upon my head the vials of his wrath and indignation? And that he will (through mine own misery) render me a sad spectacle of his [Page 46] justice for the enormitie of such a Crime? Oh (my Lord Nagera) had I no other consideration but this alone, I could not but detest (as I have done) the unworthy action of Corrall; and disavow his unjust proceedings. Yet (it may be) Corrall may say (as endeavouring to disguise and extenuate his fault, and in some kinde to paint over the Uglinesse of his infidelity) That had he dealt with generous Ene­mies, who had had a sacred reverence for their word and honour, he would have had more regard to his Faith: But knowing that (by ma­ny experiences) the Africk of our age is the same with that of the for­mer, and that the Punick faith (sometimes so decried) is the same which the Moores observed to this day to deceive the credulity of o­ther people; Yet their fraud and falsnesse is no example to any person of Ho­nor. He could not believe himself to have erred in imitating them; But rather that in this he committed a high act of Justice in making use of the same weapon (of treachery) with which they so frequently (though unjustly) assayl others to punish themselves. But in what School distin­ction could Corral learn, that it was not lawfull to make choice of evill things for present advantages? If he who leades the way, throw him­self voluntarily upon a Precipe, can he oblige others to follow him? If the Moores have been perfidious, ought the Christians to be so too? No, no, the Alcoran and the Evangile teach not the same Max­ims. Jesus Christ and Mahomet have not commended to the World the same precepts. Wee are not then to act according to that Doctrine, which wee detest as abhominable, and which wee believe to have sprung from Hell. These cowardly Actions, and infamous Treasons, ought to have imprinted a horror in Corrall, and not to have engendred in his soul the imitation of a design so Criminous. He ought to have remembred that he was born in Spain, not in Morocco, and to have consider'd that he was a Christian, and not a Moor, he ought not to have forgotten the names of Ferdinando and Isabella, which certainly are to be distinguish't from Abindarrais and Fatime; And that they de­tested to approve an action which their Religion did condemn, and directly shakes the Honor, renown, and Laws of Nations, and which (though the Moores perfidiously admit) all Christian Princes abhorre. To speak truth, the Moore and Christian (in this conjuncture) have exchanged their Principles: Have not men seen the Franknesse and ingenuity of the King of Granada in this whole proceeding? And can any eye be shut at the Treason and perfidiousnesse of Corrall? I am astonished that Corrall did not onely not blush at his insolency, but that he dyed not for shame in the horror of his own confusion; which he had done, had he but had sence to consider that all the Earth must know, that a Moore was saithfull, and that a Spaniard, a Gentleman, and a Christian had the basenesse to become a Coward and a Cheat. But he hath not onely deceived the King of Granada, but Ferdinando and Isabella also: He had the boldnesse, after he had abused the generall; (And in that Action affronted you also who Command our Armies in the Frontires,) to injure his Masters as impudently; And to ingage them in his persidious Acts and disgracefull carriage. For when he addressed to me to obtain power to treat with the King of Granada, he spake not to me of any thing more then what your let­ters imported, mentioning no foul design at all. He onely moved that he might have leave to treat upon the Ransome of some Prisoners, [Page 47] and the rendition of some places: And I was pleased to invest him with Conditionall power, which he abused in deceiving that Prince. In the mean time, who could have believed a Subject should have attempted so rashly a matter of so high a nature, and without or­der and consent from his Master? Or rather who will not doubt but that I had the unworthinesse of Concurrence, if I had not byassed my Course another way, by disavowing and detesting what Corrall did? Now if we have found that men have slain their own Sonnes for giving battail without order (although they were victorious over their Enemies) What severe punishment hath this undiscreet Com­mander merited, who did not onely this action without my order, but hath committed a most horrid fact, which is not onely covered with Infamie, but which he basely designed to obtrude on my Shoul­ders? (Sir) if I had in this action observed reason and justice, Cle­mency and pitty would have found no place, and the offendor should have received the wages, and recompence of his deserts. And now who knowes whither the restitution which I am about to give, will salve the breach, and fully make reparation to mine honor? or whi­ther posterity wil judge candidly of my intentions? or rather not con­clude them culpable? And that these second resolutions are but the ef­fects of some remorse or poling? and yet the glory of Ferdinando and Isa­bella is not of so little Fame, but that some Princes out of envy would be glad to taint and obscure it with so black and foul a cloud. Yet Cerrall may plead, those whom I deceived are Moores. I answer, those whom thou dist abuse, were Men better deserving then thy self; because they had Faith, and thou wert false. It matters not whether those we treat with wear a Hat, or a Turbant, a Rapier, or a Cimeter, whether Christians or Infidells, whether they love or hate; The obligation of Faith is the chief­est Bond amongst persons of Honor: It is the very Ligament of Nature and all society. During peace, what Commerce without faith? and during Warre, what Capitulations without treaties? and without which men would be transfo [...]med into a condition worse then Tygers and Lyons? besides, the petty subtile falsities and treacheries of private persons, are not compatible with the Grandeur and Noblenesse of Princes. Such poor Artifices become not Kings and Sove­raignes. Frugality in a Prince may be censured Avarice, and a vice, which in a subject may be justly commended as a piece of prudence, and a vertue. In a condition then so high, base and low thoughts are not to be admitted, nor any thing acted not beseeming the quality of a King. And I shall incomparably loose the best advantage, if I should but hazard that of mine honour; Which once forfeited, instead of a Triumphant Chair in the midst of glorious Armies, and famous Townes, I should obscure my self in forlorne deserts as unworthy to be in the view of the World, or for e­ver to see Sun. The lives of glorious Princes ought to be as unspotted as the purest Christall, and mine is not to be defaced with the black stain of falsity: For tis certain, if a Prince loose his honour, that losse is irreparable for ever. The Crimes of private persons may be concealed in the obscurity of their quality, and buried in oblivion as well as their memory. But the actions of Princes whether good or bad survive to posterity. As Pilots observe the Rocks in the Sea, to avoid them, so do the people the evill actions of Princes. And as Fathers in the presence of their Children more se­verely punish their slaves to deterre their offspring from their faults: So History immortalizeth the lives of monstrous Kings to prevent suc­cessors [Page 48] from their crimes. Their memory proves an execration to all the Earth: Those who never knew them, live to hate them: Those, whom they never offended, survive to prosecute them, & wil not per­mit their ashes to sleep in quiet; which is a common Charity to all o­thers, dead in their graves: They are deprived from all protection, living or dead, and their Carcasses are insecure, and not sure to moul­der quietly in their Tombes. Let them then who are resolved to set holy Temples on fire, and commit notorious crimes, that their infa­mous Acts may be longer lived, follow the examples of Corrall, and approve, what his Consideration undertook. But as for Ferdinando and Isabella, who aime at glorious immortality, and abhorre unworthy actions, they shall alwaies detest and condemn Corralls ignoble trea­chery. And they should as well condemn the offender as the crime, if his Valour did not plead for Grace for his imprudence, if Clemen­cy were not a Virtue Royall as well as Justice, and did not (of the two) more incline to humanity. But seeing no Kings are so perfect, either in their Offices or persons; but have cause to addresse to Heaven for pardon for many offences: They are not to refuse others, humbly imploring favour and remission, nor be inexorable for what they pray themselves. They ought rather to apprehend by their own infirmi­ties how to use grace and mercy towards others; And if Princes ex­pect their Subjects should tollerate their errors and imperfections, there is a kind of a necessity for them to be propitious to their Sub­jects, or at least to correct but gently, seeing they are the Fathers of the people. That Corrall lives then, who is so unworthy, it is a reprive onely to render him capable to endeavour a Reparation of his Crime, by better actions, and thereby to wash off the infamy of his perfidious­nesse: And (in some degree) he may justifie and manifest to all the World the splendor and clearnesse of that honor and reputation of his King which he had so basely abused. Return then (Duke Nagera) to the Frontiers, where you commanded my Armies: make restituti­on to the King of Granada, of all those places surprised by perfidious Corrall; satisfie him out of my own Treasury for the Ransome of all the Prisoners delivered, & command Corral to remain Prisoner till he have surrendred all the treasure he basely robbed from the King of Granada. To this purpose dispatch a Trumpet with one of our He­raulds to the King of Granada to make an Apologie, and to excuse the insolent affronts of Corrall, and to assure him (at the same instant) that I have no need of such ignoble meanes and waies to vanquish my Enemies; Nor shall such treacherous falsities be the degrees to my advantages. Faile not in your duty to our Commands: For I intend that all the Earth shall understand, that I scorn to steal, or use treache­ry to gain a Victory, or to increase my grandeur by dishonorable and ignoble means.

The Censure.

CErtainly this great action did well become Alexander the great, from whom Ferdinando borrowed the last words of this d [...]scourse. And I doe not wonder that a Prince so high did so greatly value his honour; nor that his Conquests proved correspondent to his courage. The pe [...]tie Artifices, and evill waies of unworthy Actors, may serve sometimes to enrich the projectors with more facility; and such sobbs and cheats are more tollerable (if ever) in persons of mean fortunes, and base conditions, where the obscurity of their birth may conceale a part of their shame, and an extreame necessity place them below the cognisance of the Law: Both these qualities may frame excuse, and (in some kinde) tollerate, if not authorize the injustice of their proceedings. But for Princes, Kings, and Monarchs, who have no other objects for their de­signes but true renown, these base, and ignoble actions in them cannot but bee famed horrid and shamelesse crimes. Those Martiall Laws which have warranted Heraulds boldly to denouncea Warre, have decreed their persons to be sacred, and the same Lawes doe condemne Spyes to death. Those Captaines, who after the Battell imbrace, and caresse their Enemies prisoners, ordaine exact punishment for them that keep not their Paroll. In a word, as the Lightning still precedes the Thunder, so Kings ought not basely to surprize their Enemies by per­fidious Treachery unworthy their Grandeur. Those whom Fortune hath elevated to a Throne are so rich and powerfull, that in their Wars they ought not to have any other end, or object, but honour, and reputation; and what valu­ation can they expect by a perfidious interest, or by a base, and ugly Artifice? It was the speech of an ordinary Officer to his King, I would use deceit if I were in thy place; and it was a Princely Answer, I might perhaps use it if I were in thy condition. The darke and lesser Starres as they are ob­scured with every Cloud, so their spots are not visible to every eye; but the least Ecclipse of the Sunue is discerned by all the Earth. It is so with Kings; as the ascent of their Throne is in the view of all the world, so are their perfections or errors equally visible; They cannot then be too carefull of their Renown. And as true lovers are ever apt to be jealous: So Princes passi­onatly amorous of true Glory, cannot be too scrupulous in its preservation. I know it is an Old Maxime, Give a flying Enemy a Golden Bridge; And that Philip of Macedon said, that no place was impregnable, where a Mule loaded with Gold can climbe; And another Polititian asserted, That Children were to be deluded with toyes, and men with promi­fes. Yet I believe these Maxims are false, and fallible, and absolutely unworthy a noble mind or a prudent statesman. But since that Ferdinando hath search­ed to the bottome the arguments of this discourse, wee shall not further in­gage in the dispute. And seeing we are at Castile, we intend to speak of ano­ther King of that Nation. Don Henry during the Civill Warre having blockt up a rebellious Fort, and the besieged having made a Sally, amongst others an Enemy Cavalier was taken Prisoner; who finding his wounds Mortall, prayed the Guards to give him leave to go speak with the King, that before his death he might discover a secret of Grand importance; The chiefe Officer granted his re­quest, and in the presence of the King (before he expired his last) he related with much regrett and testimony of repentance, that he sallied out of the Town with express orders (as others) to kill the King; And according to their joynt [Page 50] command, they generally ingaged; Then secretly whispering, he named althose Grandees, to the King, who had consented and conspired to so evill a resolution; as soon as the relation was made, the Prisoner died. After which action Don Henry would never reveal to any one of his Confidents, those whom that Cava­lier had accused. And this discourse is to justifie a silence so extraordinary, which denyed all importunities of his nearest friends and Counsellors to get discovered.

DON HENRY TO THE Count of D'ALBA TORMES.

I Know well (Noble Count) that the Subject where­on I am to discourse is not ordinary, but I am sa­tisfied also (if Prudence and Policy abuse me not) that it is not unreasonable. In all the accidents of a Kings Reigne, it stands with his wisdome to con­sult and weigh those things he intends to under­take, whether they be Just, Profitable, and Glorious; which three Conditions are very necessary to Royall enterprizes: and when these three qualities are first designed, it cannot be, but that the Cooperation of all three will be harmonious in the same end. Iustice and true renown render joyes full of Innocence, which voluptuous plea­sure is a stranger unto; and clemency in those who know how to practice it as they ought, renders true delight, which revenge is ignorant of, how sweet soever it may appear to the imagination. Before I can examine the resentment of two objects so extreamly contrary (which is the present task) I must present to your memory, That a Cavalier prickt with remorse of Conscience, desired to see me, and as he was dying, to discourse to me a design which he had to kill me, and to reveal their names who had imployed him in that cruell Office, at which instant he could nomi­nate no other Authors of his Crime, but mine own revolted Subjects: He sallied out of Valladolid with others, and was not of my Camp then, when he undertook this barbarous resolution. And it is with a well ballanced consideration (as I shall shew in the sequell of this dis­course) what I have here undertaken: In the mean time let the spectators judge whether I have not discreetly managed my power, being equally effective to revenge or punish as Wisedom and Policy have advised me; or whether too much compassion hath not suborned me to Clemency, or a false representation of Glory hath not clouded my reason. First to consider the Affaires in generall; it is confessed that Revenge is sweet, and carries with it a Character of Divinity, and that it is the most terrible Mark of the Power of Soveraignes: It is by that wherewith the Subjects hearts are possessed with fear and trembling; tis revenge that bri­dles Neighbour Princes, and confines them within their own limits: It is she that aweth the people to a continuation of peace; And (in effect) she makes Kings more formidable, to all other sorts of subordinate men. [Page 51] But we must admit (sometimes) of this distinction, that amongst Christian Princes it is enough to be of power to revenge those who pre­judice the peace and welfare of a Kingdome; who for some reasons sometimes may better be punished: But to imagine that revenge is an act permitted on all occasions, is an erring Principle, which evill Princes have established, as resolving whom they cannot make to love, those they will inforce to fear: As often as the Thunder rattles over our heads, it strikes a terrour; but it falls not on all the criminous, because the world is full of them: The Sunne shines as well on the wicked as the good: God pardoneth more often then he punisheth; his Clemency spreadeth more universally then his Justice; which Attributes, though equall in perfection, are not equally and respectively executed on us. As for Revenge 'tis to be used as Physitians do Poysons, (that is) in violent, and dan­gerous Maladies, where every other remedy will be infective, and where necessi­tie commandeth to force and drive away one evill by another. Revenge may be sometimes convenient, though not alwaies. The destroyers of Cities, Provinces, and Kingdoms, who to destroy one enemie commit thousand innocent persons to the miseries of war, and care not for the prodigall effusion of blood to satisfie their rage, survive in History, but in an infamous Character. The innocent bloud spilt dyes their crime in a deep Tincture: And (in my opinion) such bloody Tyrants are not to be ranked with noble Princes. But Clemencie makes not so great a noise; She casts a radiant beam of honour over them who practice so divine a Virtue: She covers their heads with a bright Ray of Splendor who are guided by her, whiles the Plotters and Actors of Revenge are in­veloped in thick clouds of darknesse and blood. The one engendereth a birth of Love, the other of Hatred; the one leaves you in tran­quillity, the other moves you to perturbation; the one procures you thousands of faithfull servants, and the other stirs up millions of se­cret enemies; the one intendeth the consolation of the miserable, and the other is ever busie in the invention of punishments. Revenge de­viseth Fetters, Clemency considereth how to unloose them: The one practiseth the filling of Tombs and Graves, the other is recalling to life those who have merited the sentence of Death. To conclude then rationally this point; Revenge is not to be permitted to Kings, but when it serves infallibly for profit or glory: And that secret delight which is insepa­rable to those who study revenge (as to punish those who have offended them) is not considerable in the breast of a noble and Christian Prince. It is so then (if occasion rightly offer) that if neither profit, nor glory may be obtained, that the exercise of revenge may be prudently suspended: And Justice (where these considerations are) will be no lesse satisfied: For that which makes Re­venge glorious, is then when a Prince hath in his power a proud and insolent Enemy, who being the head and chief of a Faction or Con­spiracie, deserves severest punishment, whose example may teach all his party to tremble, and stand in awe, when they behold the most e­minent and notorious Malefactor amongst them so disgracefully lose his head: And where Clemency may be interpreted fear or cowardise, there in the exact preservation of the majesty of a Crown, it is more prudence to incline to revenge then pitty: For when one pardons, at that time, when it may be conjectured he dares not presume to punish; at such an instant Cle­mencie may be lookt on as an ambiguous Virtue: But when a Prince passeth an Act of Grace on such considerate circumstances as I have [Page 52] done, upon a poore Cavalier, full of mortall wounds, at the point of death, and already stretcht on the Beere, who expiring the last minutes of his life, closeth them up with repentance, begging par­don for his traiterous designe, and then naming the Authors, and Contrivers of the black conspiracie; it would not onely have appear­ed a kind of cruelty, but likewise imprudence to have then augmen­ted his torments which caused his remorse; and to have posted him to his Grave, who had not (possibly) but a few moments longer to breath: But I was so farre from hastening his death, that I should rather have endeavoured his continuance if the cure of his wounds had been as equally in my power as my disposition to pardon his of­fence: And certainly in his great extremities the grief for his crime against his Prince did more sadly affect him then the sharpnesse of his wounds. These reasons well weighed, no man can justly suspect that fear or weaknesse snatched this pardon from my hands, unlesse hee will affirme, that it is a glory for a Prince to take revenge on a feeble, wounded, dying Penitentiarie, weeping, and bleeding for his crimes. Difficulty and danger equally set forth the glory of revenge as well as War. And if Kings were obliged in policie to punish all indifferently who have offended them, (They being naturally for the most part vindicative) they should never want matter for their displeasure to work on, nor a plenary satis­faction to their cruelty, if inclined to such practises: For there are too many feeble Criminals in all estates, whose blood might he exhausted easily, and with­out danger (their lives or deaths being indifferently in the Princes power) as to the repose and quiet of their Kingdome. Now if the punishment I might have inflicted on this poore snake could not be glorious, it could not have redounded to any advantage. I have formerly told you that this Cavalier sallied (as others) out of Valladolid, and that his evill enterprise was not formed in our Camp; and consequently an example so severe and rigorous was not then necessary, either to keep secret Enemies in their Allegeance, or thereby to hinder the eruptions of their malice and rebellion: For they were publick E­nemies who were accused, and who employed him. And this is (Generous Count) the difference betwixt the one and the other (if my policie faile not) that the one kind is to be terrified with feare, and the other invited by the acts and grace of love. If a King re­ceive intelligence that some notable plot is designed against his per­son, or his royall Throne: And that the things in agitation are not come to maturitie and ripenesse, but depend on some incertainties, so that his greatest Enemies appeare loyall, as if his friends: And the Bishops and Ecclesiasticks (being of the same complexion) have their hearts as equally divided as their Miters (their opinions in generall being dissentaneous) and no person having openly declared; In such a case an example of punishment and revenge may be seasonable, and necessary: For if a Prince be not sometimes active in revenge, his people will conclude him too timorous, or too indulgent; and thereby be encouraged to a Revolt, which his severity might have prevented. In occasions of this na­ture consideration ought to be had to this Maxime of Policy, That a seasonable act of Justice (and thereby an effusion of little blood) sometimes pre­vents an inundation of misery, and takes away the cause of ample pardons, and unlimited Clemency. But then when secret devices and concealed con­spiracies break forth into publick Revolts, and open Rebellions, and [Page 53] such desperate resolutions have armed the Subjects against their Prince: It is his businesse in such a case to know how to subdue In­solencie with true honour, and to chastise them with the Sword, as well as how to pardon them. Revenging Justice is not alwaies seasonable, publick punishments are most fit and proper for the Battell; and when Rebels become vanquisht prisoners, the surest second Conquest is effected on them by grace and pardon; thereby conquering as well those who never came into the field, as those who had the fortune to escape the edge of the sword. By this meanes some are reclaimed, others cheerfully invited to obedience; and the Consequence proves a double Victory. It is confest, this Rule is not infallible; and that some are so obstinate and malitious, that neither pardon, nor punishment can regulate or subdue their passion: And as for Clemencie, they are (for the most part) deafe towards her mild and courteous voice (ingaged wilfully to their resolutions with some wicked par­tie) but I know well that he who is not toucht with a just apprehension of his own error or crime, will hardly be convinced by the terrors of fear; or, In the beginning of a Civill War, it is not wisdome to make all those despera [...]e who are guilty: For what greater misery can happen to them, after they are once enga­ged in mischief, then to fall into the hands of a provoked Prince, whose seve­rity will not hearken to a submissive Repentance? This is the way to make them resolute even to the hazard of his own Army; since it often happens, that the fear of an approaching death makes men act things miraculous; and even more then can possibly be expected from humane power. To rebate then the truth of things; Revenge consists not solely in the exercise of punishment; but to have power to revenge, and to be able to undertake it with facility; or (at least) without danger, is undoubtedly the most noble and highest satisfaction in such oc­currences: And there is often more content to see an enemy obliged to your sweet­nesse, then to see him expire under the torments of a rigorous severitie. This example then of my moderation which I have presented this day may be an occasion to disarme those who shall be most violent a­gainst me in the remainder of my life. It may bee in this very houre (wherein I speak) some others may repent, and are consulting how to cast themselves at my feet: And all who have revolted, hearing of this act, may be toucht with shame, or struck with confusion: But however if they are not yet made penitent and pliant, (I said before) how rigorous soever it may be, shakes none but feeble and fearfull soules: But Clemency on the contrary is very affective on generous mindes, more then on others. Virtues are generally linked in such a Concatenation, that what ever difference seemes to appear amongst them, they are all united in building up the same pile, and they have (which I cannot describe) a secret union amongst them which causeth those who possesse any one, to discerne that they have an in­sensible cohabitation with all the rest. Thus the valiant Souldier ad­mires Justice in the person of the Prince, the Magistrates honour Va­lour and Courage in the Commanders; all Noble minds, who have Heroick thoughts have a capacity and sence of a virtuous example. But you will tell me that which astonisheth us most in this your acti­on, is not that you have pardoned a single Cavalier, a Prisoner wounded, ready to dye, and begging pardon; but that you are pleased to conceale the names of those who commended the Ponyard to his hand that was to stabbe you, and suggested the designe to attempt your life; since which time you have wrapped up that secresie in [Page 54] such silence, that even all your faithfullest Subjects are intirely igno­rant of those persons who were your chiefest Enemies. Some of you likewise may object; what moves you to be of their party, and so to act against your selfe? Behold (noble Count) these are the consul­tations and thoughts which I read very legible in your countenan­ces, and those conjectures I daily observe through the impatience wherewith you have attended me hitherto. But before I shall give you any more reasons which perswaded me to an action of this kind, know this, that I shall be the most faithfull of all my Conspirators, and that in all my life I shall never discover to any one those who had designed my death. I know this proceeding may bee as singular as the example; yet I cannot be disswaded but that my intentions are rationall; to examine which with more strictnesse wee must seri­ously consider the interest of the Prince; that of his Children, that of the Families of the Conspirators, and that of the State in general. For the first, it is true that it is possible that Posterity may not know that there had been a conspiracie to destroy their King; and perhaps it were better if it were so. That History (which professeth to be im­partiall, faithfull, and exact) it may thinke fit (without any scru­ple) to silence those actions which merit eternall oblivion; and whereby the memory of the Prince could receive no advantage: And yet it is not so, because it is not true, that wicked men conspire as well against virtuous Princes as against Tyrants. It may be further objected, that such a Record were for the shame of those who lived in that age, and were Subjects under that Reign; and it is doubtlesse more glorious for Kings to suffocate the bruit of Conspiracies, then to perpetuate them to Posterity. If this reason seeme not strong e­nough to support my resolution, let us examine what utilitie may re­dound by the publication of that which hath been revealed. You are not ignorant (since wee are before Valladolid, where reside the Archbishop of Toledo, Admirall Frederick, the Master of Alcantara, Count De Medellin, and the rest of those Confederates are met) That the Capitall Conspirators are not in such a place where they can easily be taken; That they have their Swords in their hands; That they are in a most strong Town, and in the midst of a considerable Army, and by consequence in a condition insolently to deny, and outface those evill designes which I might publish, and to secure themselves a­gainst all attempts. If then (these consideratious first premised) I should condescend to particularize the Attempters of my life, how think you would such Enemies after bee ever invited to a Treaty of Peace? Can you imagine after such a declaration they will ever have a confidence in me? Again, how resolutely, think you, they will now act? Or how doe you suppose they ought to proceed to put in exe­cution that which they shall know me to understand? Really, I think, they would have cause to make this use of such an action in me: Nor could they provide for their own security othervvise, then by adding one sinne unto another. The ignominie and danger which such a Publication would throw upon them, and lay them open unto, could not possibly be encreased: And being rendred thus desperate, can you believe they would not act further to save those lives, which for what they have already committed must certainly bee lost. No, no (Noble Count) these must necessarily be the events, and there­fore [Page 55] I shall not repent my having been secret and faithfull to my Enemies. Crimes voluntarily repented of, merit lesse of accusation, so sometimes shame directeth the offenders to the way to vertue, whose persons would never return if their faults were published. Therefore we are never to divulge a crime but what we are able (if God please) to punish. If Kings were to act as their Subjects, then undoubtedly a truth of this importance were not to be concealed or disguised, because the hatred of one particular person doth usually last with his life, and it may be that which he doth not effect at one time, he may execute at another. But it is not so with Princes. Malice ordinari [...]y is not directed towards their persons, but their power. And conspi­racies designed against them, are for the most part upon causes which continue not long upon equall foundations: For we see that Conspi­rators themselves (according to events) alter their intentions. Such politick Artists there are, who may attempt the life of the Prince; And yet a re­volution of affairs may command them to hazard their own for his safety. As for obtaining their desires, they are sometime wearied with them, and they may chance to loose their evill intentions, because never pub­lisht to the World; and an evill constellation being past, it may so prove the Prince to be no lesse in safety with criminall penitentiaries, then he hath been amongst his subjects who have been alwaies faithfull. Secrecy and dissi­mulation in such points and cases, is most considerable. For if I had accused the Conspirators by a Manifesto (whether they had the Grandees, Nobles, and Commons on their party, or not,) It is certain they might have answered (as tis naturall) that they loved not to own and avow a wicked action; they might publish that this accusation (though never so true) was a Calumny to decry their par­ty, and thereby render my integrity suspected to the greatest part of Europe. Besides, after publication they might frame better disguises then before, and so with new intentions more ably delude, and gaine their ends. But as things now are, I have understood their design by the single report of one who hath deciphered their intimate actions; and I am advised which way the wheel of their thoughts turned: which inspection they not discerning, I shall read within their hearts, and see the most concealed of their intentions, and destroy them (if I please) with great facility. I may then with prudence, silence their names, and attend, without danger, their repentance, but not with­out perill declare the Criminalls. Yet may some one say, do you not believe by their spies that the Conspirators know that one of their party hath conferred with you in secret, and then they cannot but imagine that it was to betray their designes, and consequently they conclude with themselves as much as if you had accused them openly? To that I answer, there is ever a notable difference be­twixt ambiguity and certainty. Those who act not but with some doubt, do little more with precaution then if they had meerly known nothing: And those who doubt not at all, may perhaps become faith­full to my service by the sole consideration of an action so extraordi­nary. I know well that some men may censure that a piece of Artifice which in me is an effect of Prudence and Bounty: Policy in this case may be able to serve to two intentions intirely different (when I please) to one end, and to explicate the most clear & apparent actions as I shall judge fit. But as Kings ought not to attribute so much to com­mon humane prudence, as to secret assistances inspired to them from [Page 56] Heaven in the most emergent difficulties; I believe in the election of pardon, or punishment, secrecy, or discoveries, it is permitted indiffe­rently to follow that way which my reason tells me is most noble, and generous, as neither thwarting with the rules of wisdom, nor oppo­sing the meanes of safety. Now, if after the consideration of the Prin­ces interest it may prove necessary to advise of the good of his suc­cession; It is most important to an estate, that he who is to ascend the Royall Throne ought to be free from all Malice, Passion, and Interest: And how can that be if the successor understand, that the Inheritors of the most illustrious houses of his Kingdome joyned in Conspiracy to take away his Fathers life? If he be a dutifull Son, and one who na­turally honoured his Father, he cannot (but with difficulty) forbear to extinguish their memory; and if he be jealous and suspitious, he will more hardly confide in their persons. Therefore Kings never ought to espouse particular interests, and when they receive the Crown by their Fathers death, it is best to bury in their Fathers Tombes all their quarrells, their displeasure and revenge; and the Successor is to guard nothing more choicely in his heart, then a Pa­ternal love to his Subjects. It is then most necessary (when it is possi­ble) to conceal conspiracies from those who are to succeed, least a preoccupant fear possesse their spirits, and make them commit great­er oversights in rendring those uncapable as to any office or imploy­ment, who though they have committed great Crimes, yet having re­pented, are more fit and able to exercise them then any others, and by this means perpetuating an Enmity between the Prince and his Sub­jects. Now as the relation is necessary between the one and the o­ther, it is important as towards the Conspirators Families, that their Crimes be rather concealed then publick, chiefly when they are so notorious, that they not onely merit revenge, but spread an Infamy which deriveth a bitter taste to future posterity. Wherefore ignomi­nious blemishes are not to be unadvisedly branded or fixed on il­lustrious houses, because their race and linage are the force and strength which supporteth Crownes. The Princes in this case ought to be tender of their Glory, as a beam of his own Majesty, and as to this purpose a prudent concealment of their crimes may render more advantage then a rash discovery; for why, their faults were personall, and it may not prove sound Policy to make their crimes so immor­tall, as not to be forgotten in any Succession of ages. This were to ren­der them odious to the people, and to remove them from that popu­lar respect, which being united to them, may be serviceable to the Prince.

Again, as it may prove no good policy, so it may be questioned whether it be an act of justice to make the Conspirators issue beare a part of their Auncestors punishment for their delinquency; which proceedings (unlesse Affaires of state judge them necessary) may prove very dangerous; For a King alone formes not a Kingdome, he is but the head of that great body; the Grandees (next under him) make up the more no­ble parts: There must then be great Caution of dishonouring and deba­sing too much, and too long those members, which, as the Armes and Shoulders immediately bear up the head. By all this it appears that whether we look on the safety of my person, the splendor of my Re­nown, the good of my Successor, or that of my Enemies, whether the [Page 57] advancement of Peace or of the State: We may easily judge and con­clude it to be more Prudence to conceale what hath (in this case) been concealed, then to publish it to the World, in which respect I shall not easily change my resolution. If mine Enemies shall continue obstinate in their Crime, I shall not fail of other pretexts, whereby to punish them, if it so happen that they fall under my power. Their being in Rebellion is a Crime sufficient to take away their lives, with Justice, without a farther accusation of their being Paricides or Regi­cides: And if they be capable to correct themselves, I shall exceeding­ly rejoyce to have extracted so fair an advantage out of their offence and my own silence. Moreover if they prove persons of such a conditi­on and more noble quality, who have attempted my life, without doubt I have proceeded judiciously, as not having discovered my intentions to either pardon or punish: Seeing that as yet they are not in my power; if the Conspirators were men of the middle rank, it were then superfluous to divulge their names, whose persons are so ob­scure as scarce known, and if they were men of the lowest qualitie, it would reflect with too much dishonor on Royall Majestie, to descend to an exact discovery of such low shrubbs, who like Bryers and Thornes have been bound up together in such a black Conspiracy. He who keepeth the hearts of Kings in his own hands, reserveth Lightning and Thunder in his own power, which he can let fall (when he pleaseth) to their de­struction who shall oppresse their Prince. It is meet to referre some parts of Justice, to the God of Vengeance, and not to presume on the exercise of all power he be­stoweth on us. I say not this but with resolution, that if the authors of the Conspiracy were in my hands; I should severely chastise them, yet not for their particular injury to my person, but for their impardona­ble crime against the King of Castile, which punishment were not on­ly requisite for the safety of my selfe, but likewise of my successors. So then, if they were in my present power, their punishments should be as notorious and remarkable as their Crime; But seeing I am the onely person alive, who can accuse them, I shall forbear, and rather prevent (if I can) their evill designes: As for those who shall continue obdurate and obstinate, I shall be revenged on them otherwise, Taking pleasure to pardon those who do repent; And I value it not a little satisfaction to save and preserve the honor of so many great Families, and the lives of so many persons, rejoycing at the Con­quests of my own affections in this Provocation which renders to me no small Victory.

In all other occasions it is dangerous to have the Witnesse to be the Judge, but in this case it is most advantageous to my Enemies, that I alone can accuse them of their Crimes, which if known, my secret could neither preserve them nor me: I could not longer be Master of that particular, because the Laws would importune my Justice. But seeing heaven is pleased, that he who revealed their crime is already dead, I shall onely be the Arbitrator of their Destiny, and convert my power to no other service then to afford means to amend, and reclaim them from their wicked course. It is true in this Conjuncture, that the Royall authority which I have in my hands leads me nearer to the Throne of God, who knows the most secret crimes of all hearts, but forbears publish them. He brands not the wicked with particular Marks, but leaves to their Malice lockt up within the circle of their own hearts. And it often [Page 58] falls out, that his terrible Judgements which cause us to tremble here, foretell those great punishments which the wicked may for their reward expect hereafter. Some say, that secresie is one of the most essentiall Attributes of the Divinity, and it is by it alone whereby it is presented more adorable, and more venerable with men. Doe not admire then if I onely be content to know my E­nemies without their discovery; seeing I have learnt this practice from God himself, who courteth us to his curtesies, as well as re­ceives addresses from those who he draws unto him; and whom he is so far from punishing, that he promotes not so much as a particular accu­sation against them. Permit me then (most generous Count) permit me (I say) to leave the care of my revenge to him who best knowes how to use it. If he please that my Enemies shall be converted out of shame, and self confusion, he can do it by wayes unknown to us. And as he hath given me power to be silent, he can force them to speake, and accuse each other then when they least dreame of it. Come on then, let us march and fight without accusing them. Let us not im­pede, nor dishonour the Victory at which we ayme in discovering them to be Paricides: Let us act with Princely resolution, and not longer deferre our power: Let us exercise our strength that we may have occasion to use our Clemencie: And let us make the World see that it is far more glorious to conceal and conquer our secret adversa­ries, then barely to pardon our declared enemies.

The Censure.

IN the diversity of opinions of severall judgments, when I consider this action of the King of Castile, I confesse I agree with him, and I acknowledge his Choice the better. There are some diseases which are not curable but by gentle remedies, which (as the Physitians say) will prove more dangerous with appli­cation of Corrosives. When the body hath an arm or legg putrified, the Chirurgi­on may imploy his knife, or seare with fire, or cut off the rotten member to preserve the rest; but when the whole falls into an indisposition, and that the more noble parts are infected, the Physitian and Chirurgion would not onely be censured rash, but mad, if they should undertake to cure an infirmity or distemper above the force of Art and Nature, and which did almost require a Miracle to reco­ver it. It is not good to force an Enemy into despair, if a man have not absolute power to destroy him. The extremity of perill (as this Prince said) causeth often the greatest Cowards to become despe­rately valiant. And many, who would willingly make a fair retreat from mischief, if they could assure themselves of security by being unknown, resolve to venture the worst of hazards if discovered. The Scripture counselleth, be ye wise as Serpents: and if this Counsell be ne­cessary to any, it is principally to Kings; The Egyptians in their Hierogly­phicks placed an eye on the top of their Scepter, to represent Providence, and to advise Kings in that Royall Embleme: This eye alwaies open, taught them that they could not too carefully regard what they intended to Act; The King of the Bees hath no sting (as the naturalists observe) which teacheth Princes not to be transported with the violence of their passions, and to medi­tate rather on Clemency, as more naturall, then on rigour which na­ture declines. I know not whether those who presented Iustice with a Ribband [Page 59] to blind her eyes have made a judicious piece: For my part I think the contrary, that she sees not too clear. I should rather have given her Argus eyes, then the blindnesse of Oedipus, or of Tiresias, if I had painted her; and in my opinion the Lynx ought not to see better then Kings, who hold the Sword of Justice in their hands: And for Princes to strike when they cannot see, and to weigh in the Scales and not discern how the Beam turnes, are actions that can little satisfie, and rellish not of any reason. I know Antiquity intended by this Ribband, that Justice ought to be done without respect of persons, but it were bet [...]er to present her as a Goddesse, whose sight nothing could obstruct, and whose knowledge might whisper into her hearers continually a caution to hinder unjust proceedings. It is necessary then that Kings permit not themselves to be blind­ed with their passions: And they are naturally to weigh with the Scales of Judge­ment the things which they determine: And if their Sword be usefull, it is no o­therwise then as that of the Chirurgeons, they may rescinde one member to save the rest, not destroy the whole to cut off a part. But as it is now tru, that I may make use of that Figure which Rhetoricians call Transition, and passe from one subject to another, and so from Physitians and Chirurgeons to diseases and cures; We shall leave the discourse of DON HENRY, and visit a sick Prince who became his own Physitian, DON SANCHE, though he never had his health after he came to the Throne of Castile (equally afflicted by the evils of Fortune, and nature) yet at length, deposed from his Throne by the Injustice of his enemies, he enjoyed healthfull dayes. In this discourse we shall examine whether he gained or lost more by this strange vicissitude, and whether the condition of a private person in health, is preferrable to a Throne attended with continuall sicknesse.

DON SANCHE TO COVNT GARCIA OF CABRA.

I Acknowledge as well as you (most Generous Count) that this wanton Fortune, who hath re­moved mee from a Kingdome, and restored my health (which I never enjoyed whilst I possessed the Crown) must as necessarily work extraordi­nary alterations in my soul, (Contraries never meeting but they effect something) And with as much reason as she hath raised wonder in yours: & a curiosity which (as I have observed) I shall rather satisfie then con­demne. Will you then that I discover in what condition I finde my soule after so strange an event? And whether the griefe for what I have lost, sinkes not deeper into my heart then the joy for the bene­fit that I have received by the exchange? It is certaine (to speake the truth) that the Philosophy of the Stoicks (which teacheth men to be without all Passion) is not sufficient to restrain all grief in such a stu­pendious alteration, as falling from a royall Throne to the low con­dition of a private person: Yet it is true that a descent from the highest degree of honour, and power is lesse ingrate, and unpleasant, and more tolerable to a rationall mind, where the condition chiefly serveth for the recovery of health, which is a treasure so pretious to bee enjoyed with the least disgust or regret, as being the chiefe com­fort of mans life, and therefore most universally sought after. All the advantages of Fortune and Nature have not so generall an esti­mation. We find some ambitious soules have aspired to, and usurped Crowns and Scepters; others have refused these royall dignities, as places too preciviti­ous, and too full of cares and troubles. Some torment themselves with the gain of riches, hazarding their lives to fill their baggs, which others (as more wise) doe lesse regard and value. Glory with all its splendor is lesse regarded by persons devoted to piety; And some as seriously shunne those glistering beams as others follow and adore them. In fine, Some look on a Throne as a high and danger­ous Rock; on Riches as a bait to Vice; on Glory as a disposition to pride, and vanity: Nay even Beauty (which seemes to be a beam of Divinity it self) is looked on but as a great evill, when it is not accompanied with modesty and vir­tue. But for health, it is a Jewell which is of the highest price with Prince and peo­ple, with Philosophers and Fooles; never was there yet any person found which did not put an infinite valuation on her above all concomitants of this life. We meet with one sort of Philosophers who had the impudency to affirme, that there was effectively no such thing as grief. But without doubt the same Phi­sopher [Page 61] when he lost his health, had his Principles shaken, and his content and joy were changed into griefe and sadnesse In the mean time (to satisfie you more amply) you are not to consider me meerly as a King, but as a private person to whom a birth and death is equally common with the meanest of my subjects; in which capacitie our resentments are the same. It is true, in relation to our divine Character (which is inseparable from Royalty) wee are farre above them. But in respect of God, and our selves, we are sometimes their equals, and may bee their inferiors. Wee participate with them of all the infirmities of life, and as we enjoy the same Sunne and Elements in common, so we have not other Armes then they to guarde us from humane passions, and the debilities of Nature. Guards of faithfull Subjects may defend their Prince from the Treason of a Paricide, but an Army of thirtie thousand men cannot hinder the stroak of death, nor one fit of a Feaver: Death will enter the stateliest and strongest Palace (without resistance) when she pleaseth; and the most beautifull, and magnifi­cent glory cannot asswage the least pain or anguish: Diadems, Pur­ple, and Crowns are unserviceable ornaments to cure the diseases of the body: And I have found my self often in a Princely Palace, in a magnifick Chamber, lying in a bed glittering all with gold, environ'd with the Grandees of my Kingdome, where all my attendance de­signed nothing else but my diversions and ease: When in the midst of all these seeming contents, I judged my self the most miserable of all men, envying the health of the meanest of my subjects: Death which I have often contemned in the midst of battailes, in this condition looked grim and formidable: And when I could neither fight nor retreat, give battail, or resist the Enemy; I found that I was as well a man as a King; and (upon just consultation with my self) that it was very difficult to be a sick Patient, and a sound Polititian, to govern the people, being personally weak, and in a great disorder; and not to be exceeding mise­rable when all pleasures had a bitter rellish. Death (as terrible as she is) will command and make Kings and Subjects equall, her businesse being to levell all alike. But in this case Kings are not onely afflicted as other men being sick, but more unfortunate. The chiefest point then (in this conditi­on) is to seek after health, which is interrupted by Secretaries, who interrupt every minute of repose, and persecute with multitude of affairs, as well as Physicians with prescriptions of various remedies. The deprivation of pleasure and augmentation of pain are equally tormenting. A sick Prince judgeth by the contenance of his Visitors the variety of all their humours, which rather encreaseth then allay­eth his passion; he readeth their desires in their faces. Some for their own ends fear his death, and others wish it: In this sad condition he is more unfortunate then any of his Subjects, as not enjoying any pleasure of a King. The higher he is advanced and elevated on the Throne, the greater must his desires be: The Crown seemes too hea­vie, yet he cannot when he pleaseth quit that burthen; the Scepter too ponderous for his feeble hand, and his affairs permit him not ho­nourably to part with what he cannot hold but painfully. In this qua­lity he is willing to act, but cannot; to reign, but is made incapable. In these impossible contrarieties he can easily judge what is the great­est affliction can arrive to a King, and that is to be deprived of health. For imagine with your selves to what a deplorable extremity is a [Page 62] Prince reduced, when a Counsellor shall tell him (being sick and sad with pain) that his Subjects have revolted, that his Neighbour Princes have in vaded his Territories, that his Generall hath lost the Battell, that many of his Townes have surrendred themselves to the Enemy, that a pannick terror hath seized upon his people, that his Troopes have disbanded for want of a chiefe Commander, that a puissant Ar­my is on their march to besiedge him, that his Allies keep not their faith, and that within a few daies (before he could remove) he should hear the noise of the Canons playing before his Gates, that his Palace shall become his prison, and that notwithstanding his sicknesse gives him neither free choice of life or death, he shall yet fall into a lower extremity of misery, and be reduced to the power and pleasure of his enemy: Tell me (noble Garcia) if a Crown in such a condition be de­sirable; and Royalty (though never so magnificent) to bee valued at such a rate and degree worthy of envy? All those who are ambitious to bee Kings are not (doubtlesse) without the passion of desiring glory mixt with pleasure, but of what glory or pleasure is that Prince capable whose constant businesse is to support his infirmities? And who in­stead of the delights of a Crown cannot enjoy a moment of repose? If the Prince be evill, it is not possible but a remorse for his crimes must intermixe with his Maladies to increase his torments: If he be good and virtuous, it is impossible but that he shall be afflicted, being incapa­ble to act in his Kingly office for the repose and conservation of his people: At least I know well, during this languishing condition, being on the Throne, nothing can be more insupportable then to un­derstand that▪ that sickness is the infirmity of the State; and that I suf­fer not a single paine, but that the disease becomes contageous to all the subjects. It is true these griefes of body which daily obscure the light of my understanding, (if I may reason without prejudice to for­mer passages) I confess freely are not onely insupportable to my self, but to all my affairs, and it may be censured a fault, that finding my self unfit to Reign, I did not choose to govern by the assistance and no­mination of my Successor: but the jealousie which ordinarily attendeth Soveraign authority, prevailed with me in my resolutions, not to no­minate that to him, whom I feared as more worthy: I rather chose to support a Scepter with a feeble and trembling hand, then admit of a Coadjutor, and to suffer that to bee taken from mee rather by vio­lence, then to be ecclipsed by a super officious-assistant, who would convert my Soveraignty intirely to his own service and splendor. Lo (most noble Count) the crime for which I am culpable, and such a one as all Kings ought to avoyd who are rendered uncapable to reign by their diseases, or who shall find themselves imperfect through their owe infirmities: For a Prince (whom such evils do obstruct; or who through that lesser Talent which God hath given him for the conduct of the people, is not able to discharge that high office with honour) is responsible before God for all the evils which may happen through his defective Government, or at least if he choose not an able Mi­nister of State who may supply a remedy in these great failings: And it is for that reason (without doubt) that Princes are obliged, whether they be sick or well, of stronger or weaker judgements, to have ever near them faithfull and wise Counsellors, to whom they may communicate a beam of their power, to that end that it may not [Page 63] fail. That if the Princes be weak, their judgement may support them, and if not, that they may refresh them, and so contribute some leasure for their repose, after their grand agitations, in such great concern­ment. God (whose Image are Kings) acts not alwaies by his judgements, or those terrible means, which seem more directly and suddainly to fall from his hand: Those violent plagues which desolate whole Countries, come not e­very year; God imployes not alwaies his Thunderclaps, nor Famine, nor dreadfull Earthquakes, which shake the foundation of the World: Such punishments (being very heavy) arrive but rare­ly. He serves himself sometimes with Princes, whom he commands to wage a Warre, against those whom he pleaseth to prove or pun­ish; And then (when hee pleaseth also) to be propitious to a people or Country, he doth not alwaies shew his mercy in causing Manna to raine on them, or manifest himself by miracles. He pleaseth himself somtimes to send vertuous Princes, appointing them to be the distributors of his Blessings, as (on other occasions) he di­rects them to be the Executioners of his Justice. Let Princes there­fore cease to be jealous of their Authority; And since God (without any obligation) is pleased to use them as his instruments, let them not scorne (especially since their own necessities and concernments ob­lige them to it) to make use of Faithfull Ministers, who are the ab­solute foundation of Thrones and Kingdome. For those Princes who are so fortunate as to meet with them, (of this glorious quality) may defie Fortune and diseases, and not fear the confusion of their King­dom, when they languish on their Couches. It is good for a King to resemble the Sun whose office is to inlighten all the universe; Yet this Noble imployment (which the Creator hath given him) doth not make the illustrious Creature jealous of the beames and beauty of o­ther stars, which in their severall Spheares of their Activity distribute their light which they have received, as well, though not as bright as that great eye of the World. Yet is there a distinction to be allowed betwixt the chief Minister which the Prince chooseth, and another which aspireth to that trust (moved by his own ambitious de­sires) the first is like a fixed Star, the other as a blazing Comet, which at present, casteth a stupendious and mervailous light, but the flame borrowed from a wrong Source, is exstinguisht in a moment; On the contrary the fixed Star which is luminous, retaines its splendor and brightnesse as long as the Originall light shall impart his beams unto it. Things thus stated, one may say, that the Pompe and glory, which the Sun receives, when he is set, (when in the night we see the Hea­vens adorned with radiant Starts) the Prince, when the beames of his active power are obscured with sicknesse, enjoyeth; though he do not act in his own person, but by those to whom he hath communi­cated the Rayes of his power; And in them he still retaineth his Gran­dure and Honour: But alas, I considered not the depth of this Policy, untill I had lost my Kingdom; And after I was rendred into a conditi­on to be able to do nothing else, but examine my self whether I should be more happy in my health without a Crown, or else should conti­nue a sick and languishing Prince. I am assured (Generous Count) by this discourse that you can easily judge, that the Crown which I wore was platted with Thornes; And if I should grudge at my losse, it is not for the deprivation of those pleasures I have received. Yet if I had [Page 64] lost it after the defeat of a battail, if I had then met with this sad sa­tisfaction, to make mine Enemies see (in my couragious defence) that I had deserved to wear it; And that though they gained the Victory, it was because they were more fortunate, and not more Va­liant then I; some matter might have been found for my Consolation. But to have languished so long a time as you have known me, inca­pable of the pleasure of peace, and constrained to quit the Warre, be­cause not able to be in the head of my Armies, and to see my self stript of the Crown and Scepter without a defensive power, to guard those Emblems of Royallty; This consideration affecteth me with griefe and pain unsupportable. If I were in an active condition, it may be some signall occasion might make me fortunate so far, as to provoke mine Enemies valour by mine own, and to oblige them to [...]orce me to hazard and loose my life gloriously. But the infirmities of my body have made me unfit to Reign, and almost to live: and nothing but a prodigious accident can recover my health after that I have lost all things that are dear to me. I shall now relate to you with what joy I have seen this civill Warre of my body to cease, which continued my griefe for so long a time. It will not prove so easie for me to describe to you the regrett I had in the losse of mine estate, if you had not been an eye witnesse of what I suffered. Imagine then your self, by those troubles I endured, what repose and tranquillity I now possesse. Not but that I easily believe that the continuation of health may abate much of this high content and joy which I now feel; Nor that an accustomed subjection will not in time make me forget my being King. But really if I should be restored to the Crown with the atten­dance of my infirmitie, I should not accept it; more valuing health without a Crown, then to be an infirm King unable to Reign. Tis true, ambition is sweet, and that nothing is more difficult, then for a King to make his Subjects his Peers. But when I shall be as insensi­ble as a Statue through the violence of my diseases; the interest of the people and Christian Policy would teach me to refuse that Crown which would as much prejudice them, as it would dishonor my self. The Ambitious may object, that it is a great losse, to be deprived of a Crown; But to that I answer, it is no great advantage to bear it without honor, and to have no Fruits, but distemper in such eminent dignity. They will say, that the torture of the body may be born up, by the satisfaction of the mind; But I answer to the contrary, that the purest contemplations of the Soul are troubled by the indisposition of the Body. There is a bond of nature which so strictly unites both parties, that nothing can divide their interest, and, if at any time there be any difference, there is much more from the indisposition of the body, then from the dissatisfaction of the mind. How many great and noble Soules have we seen so resolved, that the most violent op­positions could not shake into disorder, and their vexations so mode­rated, as not to distemper their health to an alteration? Many have lost their Children who have never chang'd their countenance, and good or bad Fortune hath not prevailed against their composure, because their reason was not disturbed. But as for Corporall paine, when it is such, as the Physition cannot ease nor cure with all his art; It must needs operate and have such an influence upon the soul, as fift give her not an absolute distemper, it will (at least) shrewdly shake [Page 65] the Patient. Servitude, Poverty, and Infamy, are more tollerable; but for extremities of pain, they infallibly banish all pleasure and joy. Love, Ambition, Glory, can yeild no peaceable satisfaction to a sick person; and though the Soul be the more noble part, yet in such violent fits, no other vertue hath its operation, but Patience. And how imperially soever the Soul may brag of her Superiour excellency; There rests nothing to be acted (on such occasions) but what are the effects of that vertue. Corporall pain ariseth from a naturall or accidentall infirmity in man, but the vexations and anxieries of the mind, are voluntary, and meerly depend on the will. Soveraignty not Royally managed, is a supreme disgrace, and to have a Scepter which he cannot sway, is as if a Souldier wear a sword and cannot draw it. Policie which supporteth Kingdomes is but a bad Physitian, and cates which attend them are not Remedies and applications for the recove­ry of health. Mortality is but a weak Comforter; And as for the Jewell of health, it is not so much prised as it ought; all other things are attended with some inquietude, as Riches, Honour, power. Ambiti­on is inflamed with new desires, love is attended with jealousie, care watcheth the Rich mens Gates, who have more vexation in their Possession then content and satisfaction; health alone is observed or­dinarily with least solicitude and observation. Yet to conclude (as one able to judge, out of a long languishing experience) I cannot but pre­ferre health above a Scepter, the one causing me ever to sweat or sigh, the other rendring me cheerfull and pleasant, though never so low. Ask me not then (Noble Count) whether choice I better ap­prove, seeing the Memory of those outcryes passed, force me to praise God for a more comfortable alteration.

The Censure.

IT is an ancient Aphorism, that If a man did but know the weighty­nes of a Crown, he would not so much as take it up, though he found it in his way. If this opinion be true, even in those who merit well, and are in health; it is no lesse for Princes that are indisposed: As the gifts of Nature are more excellent then those of Fortune, so are they by every well regulated soul preserred before them; nor are the greatest advantages of a Crown to be put in­to the ballance with the miseries that attend them. The Diademe, the Scepter, the Crown, the Throne, are glorious objects which tickle, and sweetly please the imagination: But when the torments of the Gout, the Colick, and the extreamities of other diseases, wholly possesse the Patient, and are placed in opposition to those glorious and lighter Fancies, a health­full Slave is far more happy then a royall King. In the midst of such Grandeur, Princes seated in such a condition (though never so illustrious) are like Tantalus, who in their abundance are not admitted to taste of any thing that may yeeld them ease, or content: So that what should raise their felicity en­creaseth their punishment, being yet more miserable that they can command all things, but nothing to their proper use; when the paine they suffer mixeth gall and bitternesse with all sweet appearances of their Scepters. The Gout and Stone confute the Stoicks, who deny all paine and passion: And I am of opi­nion, that a King (though never so magnificent,) is deprived of all earthly [Page 66] comforts or enjoyments, suffering under the extremities of a disease. I cannot but compare the condition of sick Princes to those direfull Scaffolds which are richly cover'd with black Velvet, and (for greater state) have the splendor of Torches to conduct a Prince to his execution: This funeral pomp imprints some respect of his misfortune to all spectators, but they do not attenuate his miseries. It is thus with the magnificence of Princes, it seemes to flourish, and causeth ad­miration, it attracteth reverence, but all this glory is not sufficient to render him a happy man who is a sick King, though he were the Emperour of all the Uni­verse. Grandure can have no more then the effects of Dormant and Narco­tique remedies: some intermissive moments of sleep may suspend, but cannot heal the violence of the disease, which will return, in its Course. How unfortunate then is a Prince who in great conjunctures of Affaires, hath scarce leasure to be sick, though he cannot meet with one minute wherein he is sensible of health; He bears a burthen so great, that it would cause Atlas to yeild, whilst he finds himself daily growing weak, and his spirits every minute decaying; His occasi­ons call him to every part, but his diseases oblige him constantly to his bed, and whereas he ought to see and seek about to order and Command, in­stead of these royall imployments, he is able to doe nothing but com­plaine. He is (in fine) in this condition, a meere object of pitty or scorne; where he ought to appear awfull and formidable; and therefore I conclude that Don Sanche had reason to preferre his health above his Crown, and to consolate himself in the losse of the one, by the consideration of the Importance of the other. A King ought to die standing on his feet, was the speech of a Royall Prince, and certainly if he ought to be found dying in this posture, much more ought he to appear so living; since that without health Kings are not easily obeyed, nor can their Reign be happy. We find some generalls who have gained battailes in their Litters: but I think we have not read of any Mo­narchs who have raigned gloriously on their bedds, unlesse it be those Bedds of Justice, where Majesty, not Maladies appear. Kings in their Thrones are as that universall spirit which the Greeks called Endelechia. If their influence be not over all their Dominions, all goes ill, and if they be sick, all parts present­ly grow distempered. But let us leave now the Kings of Castile, and direct our discourse to a King of Portugall. It may be the ambitious will judge it no lesse a Paradox then that of DON SANCHE, and that they will believe him as sick in mind as the other was in body. But I conceive judicious persons wil not be of their opinion; and that true policy will condemn their errors. Emanuell the first leavied a most puissant Army, with a design to passe into Affrica, where Victory seemed to attend him: When as being upon his march, and just ready to transport his Army over those streights which divide Spain & Maurita­nia; The Venetians dispatcht Embassadors to intreat succors from him as their Ally, against the Turk, who had now declared War against them. This generous Prince resolutely suspended his hopes of Conquest to assist his antient Friends, suddainly altered his design, and sent his Army intirely to them, deferring his enterprise to Algiers to another season. See here the reasons which obliged this illustrious Prince to his resolution, and the true Motives of so glorious an action.

EMANVELL TO IOHN DE MENESAIS.

IAm not ignorant (Menesais) that the design of Con­quests is as naturall in Kings, as life it self in other men: Yet I likewise know that Glory ought not to be the only object of their sublime passion: And if they judge it as proper to succour and assist their Allyes, as to create new subjects; Then the quality of Pro­tectors is as honorable as the Titles of Conquerors. It is in this noble resentment that I have changed my resolution: And though I have ingaged the greatest part of my Grandees into Armes, and covered the Sea with Ships, with a design to extend my Domini­ons over all Barbarie: I am (this day) otherwise resolved to succour the Venetians, and not farther to intend my designed Conquests. But have you well examined the matter? (you may tell me in this occasi­on) It may be, the sad Complaints of your Allyes have surprised your thoughts; whereas had you pursued your own inclinations, or followed the heat of your own ambitions; You had not then quit­ted your former design to take up another, which (probably) will not increase but diminish your subjects with a disadvantage as unprofitable as dangerous. No (Menesais) I took not up this resolu­tion in a tumult of passions, but have most seriously examined the reasons and inforcements to this alteration. And after a more solemn debate, I find that Justice, Generosity, Wisdome, and true Renown, have possessd my heart, and prevailed with me, in this perswasion, to invite me to act as I have undertaken. I do avow withall, that these mighty Forces, which I have raised (though very formidable) have not so elevated my hopes to new Conquests, as my desires inflame me to de­fend my Allies, though I might with greater ease have subdued the Barbars, then have protected the Christians. It is most true, the endea­vour of Conquests is an honorable ambition, very active in the hearts of all high born and generous Princes. And as the first Kings began their Raignes, and inlarged their Domination by their Conquests, and have derived them on the People and Subjects There seemes a kind of Noble Princelike necessity to oblige them to a Correspondency of their first honorable Cōmencements. So that (in some degrees both of wise­dom and Policy) Princes are bound to expatiate the Grandure of their Territories and Dominions; And it could not but reflect as an indignity, and some dishonor to Successors, to confine themselves within the [Page 68] limits of their Ancestors. The alterations, and signall changes (dis­cernable in all Histories) seeme to authorize what is here affirm­ed. And the successes of Ages (which have seen the ruines of so many Monarchies, and Empires) witnesse to these times, the great numbers of Conquerors which have appeared in all Ages; so that the Assyrians, the Persians, the Parthians, the Greeks, the Romans, advanced not their names, nor inlarged their Dominations but by Conquests; and (at last) were not destroyed but by the same meanes that they were e­stablished: The fall of one Empire ever giving occasion to the rise of a­nother; whilst in the great conjuncture of all disorders, it may be said, that either Princes became Tyrants, and were oppressors, or Subjects be­came Rebels and traiterously oppressed their Soveraignes: And in all Ages past, the ambition of Conquests hath been the most violent passion in all minds which have aimed at Soveraignty. Subjects are of more confined qualities, limited with proportions amongst their neighbors, inslaved to Laws, and limited to some certain parcels, descending to them as their Fathers heirs, to exceed which, were as much danger as Injustice. But Soveraigns are confined, and their usurpations more tolerable and innocent, because of their eminent and high degree a­bove other men, and their proximity to supernal and coelestiall power. We declare then (noble Menesais) that it is not for petty considerati­ons that we prefer the title of Protector above that of Conqueror. And though Princes are ranked as highest in quality, and so above all o­thers; yet they are not (being Christians) so much to regard their am­bition as Justice. As for titles, and even those which seem derived from the Princes greatest virtues, the subjects challenge a communica­tion of them; and they will dispute, that JUST is an Epethite as wel belonging to a Magistrate as a royal Prince; that VALIANT be­longs as well to a private Souldier as to the Emperour: All the virtues are as habitable, and as content to dwell with the meanest Subject as the mightiest Monarch; and 'tis true, that all United cannot set forth the Majesty and splendor of a Soveraign; he who saies one is Just, con­cludes not necessarily that he is a King, or that one who is Valiant must needs be a Monarch; but he who saith he is a Conqueror, concludes that title which can onely belong to an illustrious Prince. The power of the Sword which protecteth or punisheth, is onely reserved in their hands who are invested with supreame Authority; Subjects are not to transgress the Landmarks of their Neighbours; they are Slaves to Laws, and confin'd to the inheritance and patrimony of their Fathers; the Prince alone hath liberty (with innocency more excusable) to en­large his Territories. This enterprize then is not grounded on slender considerations, that I suspend the possibility of the title of Conqueror to merit that of Protector; and though the great splendor of that high quality hath inflam'd the Illustrious Heroes of antiquity, and lessened their dangers through their ambitious desires, yet a Christian Prince ought not so much to aim and attend on his ambition, as to incline to Justice: So then, that which was permitted to the Valour of Alex­ander, is here defended by the courage of Emanuel. Our Policy excludes not any other particular virtues from our souls, but so, that in all our enterprises we ought to be equitable, and severely to banish Injustice. Which Conclusion admitted, it was now much more proper to suc­cour my Allies, then to endeavour a subjection of the Barbares: For as [Page 69] it is with all men in generall, who live in a civill society, that a mu­tual interchange of good offices is necessary amongst them; so it is be­tween Princes and States, and their Allies; a common Interest obligeth them to oppose the Enemies of their Allies, as well as their own; and not to suffer those with whom they have made an undoubted amity, to be devoured by the War, or to forsake them at the approach of dan­ger and peril. You doubt not (Menesais) but after the compleate E­quipage of this mighty royall Navy, if I should have received advice, that some of my Neighbour Princes had invaded me, I should quickly have steered another course: And why then shall not the Interest of my Allies do the same thing, seeing that I am no lesse obliged to their defence then to my own? The sacred alliance which is amongst Prin­ces cannot be violated without injury to the rights and Laws of Na­tions; and it were most unjust in me to expect succours from them to whom I did not intend any. Princes ought not to promise amity, and after to sorfeit their sacred words with fraud, and infidelity; and being able to relieve, they cannot (with honour) leave their friends to the fury of their enemies, and the haters of all Christianity. It is true, it is a great glory to conquer, but it is more honourable and necessary to keep a royall promise inviolable and sacred. It is no dishonour to attempt a Conquest, though it be not obtained: But a man can never violate his word and promise without the blemish of baseness and falshood; an act so unworthy of a Prince, that he ought to detest it above all things. For if he faile in his Fidelity to his Allies; what doth he but teach his Subjects to be as false and fraudu­lent as himself? And I confesse as Justice pleads with me for the Vene­tians; so Generositie and Noblenesse prevails with mee to ac­cord to their humble requests: For (with your good favour) tell me with what resolution could our Army march to subdue strangers, if we had refused assistance where there was so great necessity of ayd, and such eminent peril of the ruin of our friends? Should it be said, that I marched further from an Enemy into other parts, because hee came nearer towards our Allies? Or that I durst not engage my For­ces, as if those of the Enemyes were too formidable? Am I a Neigh­bour at such distance that I cannot succour speedily in the accesse of their greatest calamities? Doth it concern me, that I endeavour to pillage Alcassarquiber because Bajazet intends to pillage Venice with his army? all these arguments are unworthy a Christian Prince, who a­spires after the quality of Justice, as well as that of Conqueror. No­ble minds are not onely obliged to endeavour the Victories of Towns, Provinces, and Kingdomes, but they are likewise to gain the peoples hearts, and thereby obtain an universall approbation, which will convert tumults to concords, and raise glorious acclamations resounding to their honour who know to merit them. And what action doe you imagine can be so capable to render a Crown immortall, as that which relieves a Republick of Christians terrified with an army of more then one hundred thousand Turks? Upon all other occasions, when a Prince is engaged in War, he cannot expect honour and commendations from all the World: For as for those whom hee invadeth, they will stile him an Usurper, his neighbour Princes will censure his ambition, and rather be spectators of his suc­cesses, then be supplyers; and according to event they will speak in fear or flattery. But in such an action as this, no ill censure can succeed. Those who are interested will estimate us as their Liberators; other [Page 70] Kings wil behold us far more eminent for our fortune, or more surpassant for our vertue and valour: & Bajazet himself (though an Enemy) cannot lesse esteem us. And truly to relieve the oppressed and feeble resistants, being our Allies, is a far more generous action, then to abase a puissant and formidable enemy. Is it not true (Menesais) that if in your jour­ney you shall meet with one man assaulted by three or four, and that he should cry out for your assistance (though he were a stranger, and your business urgent) could you refuse to stay, or assist him? ought not the same noblenesse of mind be in a King which is usuall in every pri­vate person out of the rules of humanity, and naturall compassion? Should I then leave mine Allies in their extremity to be a prey to the fury of an Enemy? This undertaking presents a double reward to the noble undertaker; the one is, sustentation of the feeble; the other is, the suppression of the mighty: And (if heaven please) he shall repel the one with as much shame, as gain of glory to his own endeavours. I may adde moreover, that Justice and Generosity united, are the most Royall virtues, the surest supporters, and the wisest Counsellors of a King. Some other Rules of Policy may pretend to be the sole guides, as instructing them whether to make Peace or War, and to give orders to all their actions. It is confest that Policy is the royall Science, and compasseth her ends in great undertakings; but her Maxims are dangerous for them who have not righteous intentions. Policy is like love, which changeth her form according to their receptions who entertain her. She proves un­just in a jealous preoccupated spirit, she becomes furious in the violent, she ap­peareth base and cowardly in a person of lesse interest, but she is alwaies reasonable in a noble & generous mind. In whatsoever dress she's found, she courteth her ex­pedients, and flatters those with whom she consulteth to give a colour and varnish to her designs. Yet in this conjuncture of affairs she cannot disswade me from aiding the Venetians, who, were they ruined, what advantage should I get, or what danger incur? I know well the Turks are so re­mote in distance, that I cannot rationally fear the enemies Invasion can extend as far as my Kingdom. But it is the Interest of all Christi­an Princes to repell the Forces of the Turk, who is already too puis­sant over Christendom; and all Kings ought deeply to resent an op­position of the Grand Seigniors Forces, who is daily inriched with the spoyles and plunder of Christians: His unlimited ambition aiming at the destruction of all Kingdomes, and aspiring to establish an uni­versall Empire and Monarchy. It is not onely for the Venetians sakes that mine armies shall march, but as I look on their Enemy as the E­nemy of all the Christian world. If all Princes were so prudent as they ought to be, they would not think that the Venetians were first undertaken, because they were more hateful to the Turks then others, but it is to make a passage by them to further extensions, to leave no enemy in the rear to march after, and so to flank or offend. In this design then all other Christian Kings have their common Interest, though I (at present) be more active, and more ready in preparation then others. You know (Menesais) when Kings make great prepara­tions for War, they alarum their neighbour Princes to arms, lest they should be surprised, lest the publick Faith should not prove sufficient­ly puissant to assure and to remove all fears and jealousies. It being so then that all Christian Princes know how that Bajazet hath levied an army of 100000 men, why have they not armed themselves as well as [Page 71] he for their Conservation? If they can be so stupid as to be false to their Allies, or carelesse of their brethren and Christians. In the meane time I shall oppose these numerous Forces, though I march alone: And by consequence I alone shall be charged with the successe of this Warre: Who, had I refused, the Venetians might have been justly con­demned by other Princes, who shadowing their excuses with pre­tences and accusations of their neighbours might say, had they been in the same posture as I, they would have done no lesse. Now as the e­vent of Warre is ever ambiguous, if in stead of Conquering Barbary, I should miscarry in this enterprise, with what Clouds of shame shall I be obscured? From the Honour of a Conqueror I may be reduced to be a Prisoner. From the hopes of being a Protector I may be rendred a Cap­tive, and instead of the Garland of Glory be rewarded with the brand of infamie; my Friends and mine Enemies might equally scorn me, be­cause I provoked the one and the other, my discretion would be in question, preferring an uncertain before an assured path to true ho­nour. For there is this infallible difference betwixt the designes of Con­quest and assistance to Allies: The first cannot be glorious but with a victorious successe of VVarre, but the other of it self is natively ho­nourable, and from thence springs a Fountain of reputation, though the event prove not so Fortunate. I know well that all who promise to be Protectors of their Allies, are not ever their Liberators in their ne­cessity. But though their Allies be Vanquished, and those who strive to assist them, yet their misfortune is honorable, and that reward fol­lowes their memory, that they share of their danger onely, not of their disgrace. And though the Allies and their assistants have a joynt de­feat, their miseries may deprive them of their lives or liberties; but they are still faithfull friends, having gained a generous reputation in using their best and utmost endeavours. If then I preferre my March to Venice, before my voyage to Affrica, I have not done lesse hono­rable; for if I should have been invaded by mine Enemies, of whom should I have expected succours in the like condition? Of what dan­ger might this resolution have proved? If I had forsaken the Venetians, and exposed to the fury of the Turks, those who are a people that a­dore the same God with us; And at the feet of his Altars might powre out innocent imprecations against us for our refusall; What might my subjects think if I should not compassionate their Condition? Might not they object that if the interest of Religion did not oblige me to my duty, that they might shake off theirs out of the same respect? It might be that some of our Provinces possessed with Rebellion, might take example from my selfe, and neglect and forsake me as I might my Allies. Perhaps my design of Conquest of other Countries might prove the occasion of losing mine own Royall Inheritance, and the abandoning my Allies in their extremities, and a dishonourable vio­lation of the lawes of Nations, might raise a provocation in all neigh­bour Princes against my person; And (my absence removing their fears) might perswade them to invade a part of (if not all) my King­dom. For when Kings do leavy Armies, and intend to wage War, they alwaies frame a pretence and reason for their martiall Comportments, in which design common Policy never faileth, and where envy is the Counsellor, infinite malici­ous pretences are never wanting. This rightly considered, a sage prevision finds it better to commit a hundred things unprofitable, then to per­petrate [Page 72] one act injurious and offensive to an Equall. And 'tis true, the removall of an injurious pretence from a Prince, might occasion the diversion of an Army, which might have been leavied against those who had not kept Faith with their Allies. All the great revolutions which have arrived in Kingdoms and Empires, have had but petty and small Com­mencements. And uncertain Policy hath no such grounded rules as to assure any security; For when she hath laboured most, and promised to warrant an estate from a puissant enemie, and that nothing without, or with­in, should trouble or shake the foundations of a Kingdom; wee finde from what little sparks mighty flames have thriven. Perhaps the love of a wo­man, or a subject of a mean quality made a favourite, or some sharpe resentment, sometimes a misprision or mistake hath set division a­mongst the Nobles; that dissention hath generated hatred and en­vy, that envy hath introduced revolt, these revolts leavied Armes, and made Warre, and that Warre destroyed the Kingdom. That is, then, true Policy, and infallible, when all things are foreseen, that need Prevention. But to speak clearly, such an impossibility can never arrive, and the profoundest Polititian cannot prevent the Contingency of strange Events. In observation then to what hath been presupposed, I have judged it necessary to wave my Voyage into Barbary, and to march towards Venice: The undertaking of this latter enterprise presents no greater inconvenience then a deferring of our design for Affrick for some farther time: and the entertaining of this occasion may happily secure my own Dominions from a Civill Warre, or forraign invasion. You see then that Generosity, Justice to my promise, and Policy hath ob­liged me to this election. And as for Renown and Glory which perswa­deth the most impetuous passion, and is a most Soveraign Mistris with all great Princes, see how she yeilds, and gives way to my rationall choice; Con­senting that although I took up armes with a design of Conquest, shee suffers, or rather inspires my resolution, to relieve and succour an op­pressed People. Honour (my Menesais) is not onely the Mistresse of ver­tuous Men; But hath likewise a particular priviledge to convert all things to their advantage, who serve her. Courage without Armes is utterly unservicea­ble, liberality without Riches cannot be distinguished well from avarice; And all the vertues in their particular Consistencies have their singular objects to manifest their effects in those who are habituated with them: But true glory se­cures it self sufficient in all conditions. She is in an equall valua [...]ion, whether [...]n the Throne or in a Prison; her Triumphs and her sufferings do both serve to her renown, wheresoever she is sought or found, she is lovely and honourable. And we must not imagine that onely Conquerors possesse her, and that Protect­ors have not their partage. The Romans, who are possessors a­lone of true renown, and which they distributed with so much equitie to all that truly merited, bestowed no lesse honour to him who saved the life of one Citizen, then to him who tooke off the head of an irreconcileable Enemy: Let us not fear then after so noble an example, but that we may find as great honour in saving the Christians, as in the destroying the Barbarians, and that the action which we have undertaken is not lesse glorious, then that which wee have deferred. The titles of Conquerors prove not alwaies so pleasant and plausible as Princes may expect; For in the judgement of the peo­ple, the Conquerors, though never so moderate, are accounted usurpers. Besides that title is not to be obtained but with the subjugation of an intire [Page 73] Kingdome, which is attended with the difficulties of destroying Thrones, taking Scepters, giving Crownes, besides the Souldiers cou­rage, and the peoples submission; The Historians penns must with ac­clamations and descriptions declare the Conquerors merit to the World. But as for him whose designes are to be a Protector of his Allies, he hath the Reines in his own power, he dependeth on his own will, to attain his undoubted renown. He who is stiled a Con­queror, perhaps may acquire the Epithets of hardy, valiant, and for­tunate; But he who hath the name of a protector, enjoyes not onely these former qualities, but these are added that he is just, faithfull to his Allies, noble and generous. Now if the difficulty of undertaking giveth addition to glory, in any enterprise; Then certainly the Con­tribution of reliefe in so eminent danger cannot but be an act of most transcendent honour. At present we onely intend Preservation to the Venetians, and to encounter with a mighty Army of Turks, and we may possibly get this advantage, having first subdued our own ambition to vanquish this insolent Enemy, or at least be able to impede the designes of his new Conquest. The honour which we shall gain, will be so clear and pure, as not to appear corrupted with the least sus­pition of self interest before the Peoples eyes. If we shall not render the Turks Prisoners, we shall be happy in preserving our Allies from being their slaves; If we cannot beautifie the sacred Altars, we shall repute our selves blest if we can defend them from the Turkish fury; and equally please our ambition, and be fully satisfied, though we be not Conquerors in Africa, to be Protectors in Europe of the innocency and vertue of our Allies and our Religion. These are honours to which we may lawfully pretend; men in this noble endeavour are bound to acknowledge to us the means of their Preservation: Fathers will have their Children, and husbands their Wives protected in their In­nocency and Modesty; our memory and fame will grow up with the little infants, who by this deliverance, will be taught to continue the honour of their liberator to posterity: and by a discharge from such evills still prove firmer Christians and more faithfully hate the sinnes and errrors of Mahomet. As for Conquerors they gain glory, but never without effusion of much innocent blood, their Charriots of Triumph are a ten­ded and thronged with those who are more miserable, then criminous; but in this design our Souldiers draw no bloud, but from the veines of Infidells, and from those who are the Christians Enemies; and as for our honour in this action, it is as equally without spot as Competition. The joy­full songs of innocent Mirth shall not be interrupted with the mix­tures of sighes and tears; in our addresses of succour our princely com­passion shall occasion publick joyes, and our endeavours break the Forces of those, who are violators of their Faith, and oppressors of the Christian People. Of all Warrs the defensive is most just and glorious; And then chieflly where the successes is happy. That right which permits of a repulsion of force by force, is as antient as the foundation of the World; Nature her selfe inspires it, the Lawes permit it, the Casuists dispute it, but in conclusion, the best Divines authorize it, and that Maxime is infallible, that what is just, is honourable. How great a reputation must it prove then to subdue those mighty Armies which are prepared to fight, and vaunt of being victorious? The Turks have gathered innumerable Forces to this purpose, laid their design, [Page 74] advanced their march, with an infallible expectation, that they cannot fail in their enterprise: But if they prove to be subdued and disap­pointed, their retreat must be with great shame and Confusion. ▪Tis true, the Events of Warre are very uncertain, and therefore shame ought not alwaies pursue the Conquered; Yet it is ever more no­torious and signall upon the invaders, when they are subdued then when the innocent Defenders are overcome. A strenu­ous defence though at last overpowred, is as honorable as those who subdue, and we find sometimes a place surrendred with as much reputation to those who have yeilded as to those who have gained it, and after a long siedge reduced vigilant and active Souldiers. Oh (Menesais) we finde true glory in this Warr, (with what ever eye we behold the design) The cause is just, the E­nemy so mighty, that though we fail to vanquish, yet we cannot fail of reputation; our endeavours (if we have the defeat) will take away all shame and dishonour, how then shall I desert these powerfull rea­sons and considerations, which so mightily perswade me? If Iustice a­lone commanded me, I ought to undertake it for her sake; For Kings owe that duty to all the World, as well as to their own subjects. Genero­sity is another promoter of this action in my Soul, which if I should not observe, I deserved not the name and title of a Prince. If I incline to Policy or secret Counsells of my perswaders; and if I submit to that in­spiration which so inflameth mine own mind, the Beams of honour lead me to this reliefe, which no Princes could refuse but with an ill re­flection to the royall Dignity: Justice, Generosity, Policy, and Renown, be­ing the four wheeles which carry my resolution; Seeing the first com­mands, the second encourageth, the third Counselleth, and the fourth inflameth; we cannot but submit to their united operations, believing we cannot fail, guided by their Conduct and Counsells. These are those Princely attendants which have honoured the Train of great Princes. Iustice cannot erre, Generosity cannot be dishonoured, nor Po­licy indiscreet, and as for Glory, her brightness leadeth and carrieth those splendent lights, which facilitate the way to all noblenesse: She is a bright Torch that illuminateth the actions of Princes, she hateth vice, & makes her flve, the vertues are her followers, and all her Companions Noble. These attend her in peace and Warre. We are now in our March to Venice; and doubt not but to find her there; all other Beams grow dark, and are shadowed, when we are obscure in the Chambers of death; Iustice can bring us but to our Graves, Generosity serves us no longer then whilst we live, Policy then leaves us, and addresseth to our successour, Soveraignty maketh choice to place a Scepter in other hands, the Crown is placed on another head, Majesty is then buried in ashes, and lieth in her Tombe; But Glory and renown flourisheth on the hearse, de­riving fome to posterity, and so spreading over all the World: She recompenseth with usury the pains of former cares, and those who have sought her ear­nestly in the shortnesse of their dayes, she perpetuates their memory to all ages: Let us follow then this glorious starre which directs our course now, not to Barbary but to Venice, where we shall be certainly honou­red with the brightnesse of true glory and renown, whatever our suc­cesses prove.

The Censure.

THe example of noble EMANUEL (this illustrious Hero) may guide the resolutions of all Princes and Monarchs who aspire to sublime immorta­lity. This action of his was more glorious then his Throne, and more precious then the golden Scepter which he bore: The Diademes of Imperiall Crownes are not so sparkling as the Rayes of this illustrious action: The Purple, and magnificent garment Princes wear, represent not perfect Majesty without their inclinations to imitate so great a Prince, who hath appeared in this not far short of Alexander or Caesar. The high reputation of Conquerors exceedeth not the generosity of an equitable and moderate Prince, who is as glorious in the relief of his Allies, as if mounted on the chair of the highest Triumphs. And sometimes to refuse such glorious offers doth not rellish lesse of true renown, then eminently to Triumph. To preserve ones friends, is no lesse prudence and honour then to destroy the Enemy. And this is a Maxime as sage as sound. Rome (which this Prince observed) gave freely a Crown to him who preserved one Roman Ci­tizen, and erected many Statues, and honoured him with many thousand Tro­phies. To him (I say) who honourably preserved the Republick, and defended his Allies by his generous actions, in preferring them above his proper Interest. This is advice fit for Princes, because those who seem to be above the Laws, easily beleeve they are not obliged by any; and it is good to intimate to them (from time to time) that they are men as well as Princes; and if their condition do exempt them from what they prescribe to others. No [...]hing can free them from the rule of hu­manitie and natural equity: And we read that the Emperors of Rome had at­tendance and followers, whose business was to moderate their excess of pleasure, by the directions of Counsels; who if irritated and inflamed with provocation, yet upon second notions, the advice prudently digested, they became more dis­creet, and of a better temper. Some Princes have commanded that they should be daily remembred with that saying, Souviene toy que tu es mortel, least they should forget it through the splendor of their state. 'Tis true, Kings are to be discoursed with most properly in soft and silken termes; and imperious language sounds not well in Soveraigns ears; the sweetness of perswasions are of greater force then boysterous speeches: Yet Thunder and Lightning is welcome when it changeth the corrupted air. In curing the desperate wounds of Princes, the Chirurgeon obscures the instrument of Iron which must open and heal, gives it a perfume which may be more pleasant, sugars and clarifies the remedy to make it more conducible, and lesse sharp and afflictive to the Patient. When Philosophers study Morality they finde Virtue inviron'd with Prickles and Thornes, scarce to be saluted without danger. But when they conduct vertue to Court, or would lead her into Princely Pa­laces, she is adorned with all variety of rich accoutrements to make her more lovely in the eyes of Majesty. It is this beauty of Virtue that inchanted this great King of Portugall to preferre Justum before Utile, and the preservati­on of his Allies and friends before the expectation of a Conquest. And for my own part were I to follow my naturall inclinations, I should fill this whole Vo­lumn with such examples as this. But the variety of Flowers is the beauty of a Garden, and the diversity of matter is the delectation of books; we shall pass now then from this most generous Prince the King of Portugall to the Duke of An­jou, (afterwards Henry the third) of France, who disgusted with Charles [Page 76] the ninth, his brother, had the Crown of Poland procured for him by those who designed his elongation and farther remove from Court. The subtill wayes, and secrets of Princes are not revealed to all, and ordinary capacities could not pierce at the essects of so strange an action, that he should elevate his brother to that honour on whom he had such constant jealousies; see here his reasons and ar­guments to the Bishop of Valence in dispatching him to Poland.

CHARLES THE NINTH, To JOHN DE MONLUC, Bishop of VALENCE.

EXperience bringeth the most perfect instruction, and Philosophy and Policy (though they may vaunt and pretend) yet cannot lead to the right paths of Pru­dence without her conduct, by whose means they are chiefly beaten, and made plain: All things which have appearance of good, are not therefore eligible; but present affairs are first to be considered with cir­cumstances which are already passed. Prudence is the companion of Experience; and an excellent guide under whose conduct we cannot easily erre: But many who pretend to possesse that great virtue (if really examined) have little acquaintance with her: Self-opinion being ordinarily the greatest cheat in the world. Old age, which ought to have her as an inseparable companion, walks often alone, and hath not Pru­dence for her familiar friend; whereas Youth many times is more for­cunate in her society: It is not therefore long life which is solely bles­sed by gaining Experience; since there are many men, nay even Prin­ces, whose whole lives are but a continued dream or slumber. They who pourtray Experience ought to have lived longer then one Age, seeing that all Kings and men in their longest duration continue but short moments of time. The years change, and seasons have their alterations, but Kings (sur­feited with Peace and Luxury) let time pass without strictness of ob­servation, to their office; and in an indulgent Reign of plenty and tran­quillity, their abundance causeth them to swell with Pride and Ease, that they will hardly be examples of Justice, much less of Mercy. Lux­uriant and wanton times cause Princes like iron to rust for want of use; but when an unexpected Enemy appears with terror, or a Civill Warre breaks forth and imbroyles a State; when the dissention of the Gran­dees endeavours to dissolve the ligaments of Government, and secret Machinations are discovered to produce generall confusions; then Princes are forced to summon up their best abilities, and having mu­stered all faculties to their service, they are then unexpectedly drawn to severall varieties, and strange hazards of necessitous undertakings: Sometimes to dissimulate, and counterfeit kindness where they hate most, and (on other occasions) to shew rigour, and severity towards them whom they most love, and honour: at other times they com­mand [Page 77] to imprisonment those Ministers and Favourites, whose com­pany they chiefly honoured, and wish nothing more then their liber­ty. Such occurrences are the familiar attendances of Crowns, whereby Kings gain experience, and discern the transient accidents of their Reignes (which obligeth them to the rules of Policy and Prudence) the better to secure their Soveraignty. Histories, though they preserve a memory, and treasure up the Actions of Kings, yet they give not perfect in­struction to them in their royall offices; New successes intervene in severall Raigns, which daily require new Counsells and fresh designes. He who seekes for instruction solely in books, must not think to have his expectati­on satisfyed by examining onely the Reignes of such Princes who passe their times meerly in peace & tranquillity. The Reign of Tiberius and his Ceurt of delicacies, may teach a Prince to consume Golden time in airy vanities, and wanton Luxury. But the Reign of Marcus Aurelius was in another temper, where ensignes (the Emblems of ho­nour) were in highest request. The history of a soft and luxurious Prince, like a bed of sand to the pilot, is very dangerous, unlesse the example be avoided: But the lives of hardy and valiant Princes like Anchors if well fixed, may preserve a Royall Ship from Naufrage; the errors of Princes like Rocks in the Sea are to be observed in the Charte, that they may be the more securely avoided: But (above all these The­ories & contemplations) experience is the chiefest Mistresse, Vertue consisteth in action, and he raigne [...]b most prosperously, who by the observation of the evills past, and the judgement of those that are present, doth prevent future mischiefes. To open my thoughts (Noble Prelate) to you I am but young, and have not seen more then a Quinquennium of my reign; I dare not presume to brag of my experience, yet I dare to say, I have seen those things, since I came to the Crown, which I reserve in my memory, and which make me doubt whether I have not outlived many of my Ancestors in the Kingly science. Certainly in the obser­vation of what hath arrived both in Court and Kingdom (though I am but a young Prince, and of the age of twenty three, yet) I have re­corded many Marvellous and strange occurrences in this short time, which have whetted my resolution and reason to a deportment of more vigorous activity in this dubious conjuncture of mine af­fairs. It may seem strange to you, and all the World, that I bestowed a Crown on one I have held in Jealousie, and great suspition, who for his person was a Prince, my Subject and my Brother. And (it may be) you will tell me if you procure Crowns for him whom you suspect, what rewards will you bestow on those who are faithfull? To this ob­jection Policy makes her answer, hat there are conjunctures when it is more seasonable to prefer then punish, and to remove an Enemie to a degree of eminent honour, then to reward and recompence a Faithfull friend. And your wisdom teacheth you, that all times are not proper for the same service. The merits of some ought to be in the Register, though not requited at present; and the dangers of others designs are considerable; And when revenge may prove perillous, as well as ineffectuall; Fidelity is to be suborned (if possible) to prevent more terrible inconveniencies. The fairest Flowers serve as well to conceal and hide the Aspes and Serpents, as to beautifie Chapplets and Crowns of Kings, and Princes are not obliged so much to regard beauty and riches, as the hearts of those whom they rule and command. Great rewards are not alwaies the testimony [Page 78] of love, but often the effect of Policy, and are not given so much to oblige to Re­spects, as to appease and remove from wrath and revenge. It was the Troians Counsell (though not received) Timeo Dana [...] & d [...]na ferentes; let not then my liberality astonish your apprehension, which I shall endea­vour to satisfie by many arguments. First I must let you know that all our Enemies are not to be treated after the same manner: Some may be contemned, others ought to be feared, some actions of Princes ought to be publisht to all the World, and others, to be concealed from all eyes. Soveraign Government admits as well ingeniously to dissimulate, as severely to punish. The Duke of Anjou is not one of the first ranke, but a person more considerable then to be despised; he and his party is rather more formidable, and therefore the more to be suspected. If my private suspition of him were publickly declared to the World, my condition might grow more dangerous, and he more puissant; because, he is so near to me in bloud as a brother, and so related as visible heir of the Crown. Great wounds in the more noble parts endanger the body, and dissentions in the Royall Family are commonly more destructive and fa­ [...]all to the who [...]e line: Such discords would be invitations to the Sub­jects▪ to become more insolent to repair their private Fortunes with the ruines of Royalty. If Henry and Charles were divided, some would conceive in serving Charles they were subservient to Henry, and others following Henry, may be ambitious and violent to banish and aban­don Charles. Fraternall discords as they are not honorable, so they are not safe. Charles was too near in bloud for my severity, being my brother, who though naturally ambitious, might excite the subjects to sedition, they having too much proclivity to that crime; And an execution of punishment on one so near, as it might provoke a popular compassi­on, so it might probably occasion a generall revolt which might shake the Foundations of my Monarchy. The Lawes of Heaven as well as those of Policy conspire in the concealment of secrecies, least that what is at pre­sent scarce an Embryo in the thought (breaking out into action by a discovery) prove an unruly Monster in the birth. What remaines then, but that I should remove him to a mighty distance, whom I could not punish? and gratifie him with a Forraign Crown, the better to se­cure mine own, and to use dissimulation where I durst not presume to chastise. But you may object, I understand you speak of Enemies and punishments sutable to their crimes; If so, I know not whom you in­tend, nor what is his crime whom you suspected; you may farther re­ply, that I ought to consider the Duke of Anjou is the Mounsieur of France, that he is your Brother, that he is young, that his inclinations are sweet and amiable, that he is Generall of your Armies, that he hath a great influence on the Queen your Mother; And that with his affa­bility he insinuateth, and gaineth the hearts of all, who addresse unto him. These circumstances do justly engender, and beget great suspi­tions, and therefore rather may merit a Guard to secure him, then a Crown to oblige his haughty affections. To this I reply, 'tis true, the Duke of Anjou is my Brother, and so in that relation near the Throne; Ambition may more easily transport him to aspire to the Crown, and though his heart were so moderate and just, as not to suggest to him such ambitious inspirations; yet doubtlesse he hath a company of Counsellors and flatterers about him, too apt to inflame him in such desires, perswading with adulation, that if he were King, his Raign [Page 79] would restore the Golden Age; objecting, that this of mine was com­posed of nothing but Iron. Those who are born near to Crowns, are [...]oo prone to think themselves abused by nature, who gave them not a more early birth to inherit the possession of Soveraignty; to which high pitch if they cannot as­cend, they commonly fall desperate and melancholy. Alliance and blood are naturall bonds strong enough to oblige private interest, but when their relations are near a Crown, those bonds usually grow feeble: And in the combate of am­bition and nature, the more equitable party d [...]th not alwaies prevaile: You tell me, the Duke of Anjou is young; that is the age when passion is most predominant, and most easie to be perswaded by those who gild over their own ambitions and self Interest, by pretending to aim at nothing but his good and advantage, who neverthelesse though they should make him King, would bee afterwards as active in depo­sing him, if it were in their power. Youth is an age where the acquisitions of ill habits are more facile then the infusions of good & vertuous dispositions; Yet it is a vigorous time which rendereth great advantage to those whom it serveth: It is the chiefest season to gaine hearts, and to delude with hopes and lovelinesse. If my Bro­ther were elder, I should lesse suspect his power, and more confide in his affections. As for his Inclination which may be sweet and ami­able: Those qualities doe render him more formidable: With these shapes of affability and courtship, he will more easily suborn my sub­jects, and reign more puissantly in their hearts by his complacencie then by his gifts, his solicitations, or expense of treasure. The fierce­nesse of my humor, and the sweetnesse of his comportment will cause those to love him who fear me, and gladly to forsake so severe a Ge­nerall, to follow, and obey so complacent, and courteous a Comman­der; and if there be occasion, I am not to doubt of their resolution to a Revolt, when they are possessed with some expectation, and hopes of him, as a fit Successor, and are so presently inchanted with his ex­tream civilities. As for that other quality, his being Lieutenant Gene­rall of all my Armies, it is a relation and capacity wherein I may not least suspect him: For then when he was but sixteen years of age, after the Battaile of St. Denis, and the Constable of France slain, he was chear­fully received Generall to that victorious Army, with the unanimous applause of the greatest officers, who so joyfully submitting to him as their chief, being so young, and after the death of so noble and expe­rienced a Commander, made me presently conclude that he was born to be fortunate, and great: And since his advancement to bee Gene­rall, doe you not see how delightfully the Souldiers flock and follow after him? Doe they not pursue all occasions to manifest their Valour for his honour, and daily thirst after the happy hours of his fortunate conduct? He hath (since his commands) not onely beaten the Prote­stants, made the Queen of Navar to fly to Rochell, and forced the Car­dinal Cha [...]illon to escape for his life to England; but he retreated with as much success as generosity from his dangers in Poytiers, where both the Armies were ready to quarter in the same place, and to fight, and so surprize a Victory. To conclude, during the continuance of this War while he was active for me, he was superactive by his successes for himselfe, by which meanes he made many Creatures for his owne interest of [...]he best rank of all my Subjects. The glorious day which he had at Bassack, where he made an eminent Prince his Prisoner, his suc­cesse [Page 80] at Anbeterre and Muridan; The second battaile which he gained, whereby he reduced many places in Poitou, Saintogne, and Angoulmois; and those other noble acquisitions even to the taking of Saint John de Angelo. All these circumstances have peswaded me to a suspition, and to more stricter observations of his waies. These fortunate events might inflame his expectations to sublime thoughts of commanding all: And as sometimes the strength of force surmounts, and is prevalent above the Lawes of Nature, and the rights of birth, his thoughts may be transported beyond those of a subject, he might conceit himself to have as good a Title to a great part of France, as Alexander had to Per­sia when he commanded there with his Army. And it is more then probable, his ambition will hardly admit of this difference, that the Macedonians, who affected great Alexanders Conquests, were his sub­jects: But the French who had compassed these illustious Atchieve­ments in the service of their Generall, were not his but my sub­jects whilst I lived and reigned. As to that relation, wherein you tell me that he ruleth the Queen my Mother as he pleaseth; To that I shall reply, tis true, the Queen my Mother hath great passion for my Brother, and it may be she is so indulgent in her love to him, that it tendeth much to my prejudice. The honour and respect which I owe to her, (being her Son) and the quality of her Regency of France which she so bravely performed, commands me, that I dare not presume to examine severely that Article, though I apprehend (sometimes) that my Mother preferrs my younger brother to more degrees of affection; yet I am to be pardoned if I be not silent in that point, nor easily raze it out of my memory. You know when the Duke of Anjou beseiged St. John de Angelo, he met with more difficulty then he expected, and the affairs were so managed, that they rather threatned disgrace then honour. But the Queen my Mother fearing (in this occasion) least this action should reflect with a disreputation upon my brother, and as­perse with some disadvantage all his former Victories, commanded me to march and raise the Seidge, by which accident I became liable to the dishonour of that unsuccesful attempt. I leave you then to judge, whether I may more rationally confide in him, or whether I ought not the more to suspect him, since he hath of his party not only the greatest of the Commanders and Captaines, but even a Princesse whose honour and justice are so equally admired. But (as I said) I must not scrue up this string too high, nor examine this point too ri­gorously: For the Queen is my Mother, as well as she was Regent, and therefore of a higher degree, then to be treated as an ordinary subject; And whatsoever arrives, I shall be more glorious (let her use me as she please) in the effects of any of her designes; then if by a disrespective preparation I should presume openly to oppose her. But there is a midde way (which I choose to walke in) so even and inoffensive, as shall give her no pretence to com­plaine, and yet shall remove all obstacles which can deprive me of her affection. The Courting and Carressing of the people, if free (possibly) from secret ambition, is not onely tollerable but comen­dable; but when a young Prince is compliant and affable, and studies to winne and please, those endeavours being imployed to his equals, and inferiors as fellow subjects, with as much or more observation, then to his Soveraigne, can it be that one of his Condition [Page 81] would make himself so much a slave to such persons, but upon design thereby to become their King? Certainly if this were not his aime, he would esteem it far more conducing to his advantages to court his Soveraign upon whom he depends; Then thus to fawn upon his Infe­riours. Liberality, on such anoccasion is but a Mercenary vertue; her giving is rather a sowing in expectation of an Harvest, which may make a return with usury: And it is these hopes which makes her Prodigall, who, upon another score, would have given nothing. In the consultation then of all these considerations that the Duke of An­jou is my Brother, that he is young, and Generall of my Armies, that his inclinations are affable and sweet, that the Queen my Mother so highly favours him, and that he hath no other businesse but to gain the hearts of those who addresse to him; It were imprudence not to be jealous of him: Yet all these reasons and conjectures seem weak and feeble in comparison of what I shall farther add. The Queen is of that disposition, that she justifies all others before me, she authoriseth all to have suspitions on me; She discovers the most concealed secrets of my trust to the Duke of Anjou, and them of his faction; she accuseth and convinceth the clearest reasons, and will not admit of truth it self to oppose her pleasure. I have read in history that an old wise Rustick who confined his ambition within the Walls and Pallisadoes of his Garden, received a Crown from Alexander with some regrett, and shew of Melancholly: And some Philosophers have not thought a Crown worthy the lifting up to their heads: But I never yet read that a young Prince, whose inclinations are wholly bent to Gallantry, and to pleasure (rather then towards morality) would receive a Crown with regret or discontent. When one presenteth me with the newes of a Town surrendred, or a battail won; my presents were usually Chaines of Gold to those who bring such happy tydings: And yet the Duke of Anjou hath scarce a common Civility for them, who bring him the assurance and tidings of a Crown and Kingdom; Notwith­standing that he is ambitious of being reputed the most civill and ob­ligeant Prince of all the world: Nay when it was told him that Sigis­mond was dead, and consequently that he might aspire and pretend to the Crown of Poland, he discovered more tears in his eyes for the death of Sigismond, then if he had received the same newes of me: what varie­ty of thoughts then may not hourly suggest to me strange apprehen­sions? May I not think that he who receives such a Kingdom with re­gret, aimes at one more glorious? And for what other reason can it be, that the Crown of Poland should be inconsiderable? I do not think he can easily compasse the Crown of Spain, his friends are not so in­telligent, as to abuse Philip the second to serve him and his design; as for the Crown of England, and that Illustrious Queen Elizabeth, that Kingdome is as equally impossible; For the Queen will not marry but dye a Virgin. What reason can there be then alleaged, why my brother should refuse to be a King, unlesse he hoped and expects my death, which might prove his passage to a more glorious Throne? And all­though I discern not his way, it is most evident, his design is laid to this haughty pitch. That mighty faction which I have formerly men­tioned, will treat and agitate profoundly for his black interest and criminall expectations. His name is great, being of the Royall Family, his party proportionable to their great occasions: He [Page 82] watcheth all advantages, he expects the fruits of his dangerous enter­prise, and may plead no inclinations of his own, but my subjects a­version to serve me. To all this the Duke of Anjou presumes he is as­sured of the Queens cordiall wishes, and his extremity of hatred to the Protestant party will occasion a War, that War keep up his interest with the greatest Officers of the Army, and Grandees of the Kingdom, and these interests still increase his power. I cannot deny but those of whom I speak in their Qualities merit not a Kingdom, but though Fortune hath not given it them, their ambition thirsteth after it, who (without doubt) better deserve exile, or a prison, if it were season­able to act such an execution. But as his power cannot be shaken with­out ruining the Queen, and endangering the peace of the whole King­dome; I must not undertake what is impossible, knowing that my Brother hath the strongest places of France under his command; and those not ordinarily fortified, but reinforced with the affections of the people: It is necessary in this juncture to shew him a fair path, and to invite him with the temptation of a Crown, to remove him from his popular Authority; and so to weane the people from their admi­ration of him to a more proper object.

In this condition let Henry receive the Crown of Poland, and confined to so noble an Exile, act his royall part on that foundation. In his as­cension to that Throne we shall better establish our own; and giving him Subjects, shall place guards about him, who shall assure us of his person, that he reigning more puissantly in Poland, we may reign more gloriously in France, and with more tranquillity. There is (moreover) this advantage in this design, that though I arme mine enemie, yet there is no fear that his weapons can reach me, nor trouble my safety at such a distance. His Troopes may be discovered, if he design any irruption; and if we have any War, it is not likely to be on the Fron­tiers of our Estates. Besides, this Exile is so remote, that his Crea­tures (left behind) dare not presume to murmur, their complaints be­ing not able to reach their Patron, or (at least) he not near enough to revenge, or defend their discontents. Things thus examined, I found no way better to discharge my self of this so near a danger; which if I had longer deferred, the wound might have been made too wide for any cure. Publickly to oppose by force those whose crime is secret, is a provoca­tion of the peoples hatred, and a leavying of Forces for mine enemies: So to act for them who would destroy me, or my Kingdome, and to com­mence a War, which may not have an end in a short time, and which may be fatall, and destructive to the whole, as well as ruin to my self. To have immured this young Lion in a place where his fury might have prevailed with popular aid, had been a design too dangerous, and it is very difficult to find faithfull guards when he who is imprisoned is in a condition to be proclaimed and declared a lawfull King. Such a Fire as cannot be extinguisht, is better to be dispersed. It is then most rationall that the Duke of Anjou be made King of Poland, that I may be my self. Surely he will never have the boldnesse publickly to interpret that an unkindnesse which deserveth thanks. And as for those who serve him, they dare not interpose in that, which appears so advantageous to their Pro­tector: As for the Queen her self, who is more subtile and prudent then not to dissemble at least a feigned joy, for that addition of a Crown to her Sonne, though it may inwardly cause some reluctancie and [Page 83] griefe. What can then oppose a design so judiciously and prudently consulted of? The greatest objections (pressed with severest vio­lence) must needs be satisfied in the elevation of this young Prince to his Scepter; No aggravations can seduce the People, but that this ho­nour agreeth with his qualities, though never so noble. And as for you (Illustrious Prelate) consider how in this Act the Kingdome is de­livered from a secret Usurper; your King is preserved from a dange­rous and emulous Rivall and brother. The rootes of Rebellion are extirpated, peace is established throughout all France, and never did any person extract a more illustrious and innocent revenge from so deep an injury: It being certain, that this is the first time that re­venge was satisfyed by the Coronation of an Enemy.

The Censure.

AMbition hath her Jealousies as well as love, and the one is no l [...]sse vi­olent then the other. Soveraign power is so delicate and tender, that all things which do approach near it, occasion inquietude, and that which doth but touch it, wounds it. The very shadow and slight imagina­tion accuseth any thing as culpable, which apprehension hardly can be altered or appeased. So deep an impression, and so profoundly is jealousie ingraved in a Crown. The Greek Poets said, that Kings knew no kindred; to signifie that bloud and Proximity were not considerable with those who raigned soveraignly. And as soon as Kings are feated in the Throne of supream Au­thority (as if in that degree they had a spirituall addition) they speedily become more jealous of their glory. The more nature and fortune hath obliged them; the more ambition disuniteth and raiseth suspitions in their thoughts. It is true of soveraignty, as it is of the heart of man, where all wounds are mortall. When Tiberius came to the Empire, Tacitus tells us that the Senate designed to ob­lige their new Prince, by conferring a glorious title of honour on his mother Livia, and stiling her Mater Patriae: but this subtill and absolute Polititian could not endure that title in his mother, but answered, that Honors in women are more properly to be moderated then augmented; And (as that fa­mous Historian relates) that title procured her a Guard, which he appointed per­petually to attend (Augustus being dead) least her Grandure should lessen and diminish his; And if Livia caused his restlessnesse, what perturbations did Agrippina increase; the great acclamations of the Souldiers as she marched by the River of Rhine, wounded him on the Banks of Tiber. And those testimonies of af­fection which those legions bestowed on her engendred not only jealousie, but hatred in his heart. Now if this cruell passion so tormented him, that he was so inraged by a woman, what might not she have endeavoured to eternize the glory of her hus­band? he feared Germanicus (much more then the Barbars) he suspected him too near to him in Almany, & that he was not far enough from him in Asia; and Pi­so was not in suspition alone as to cause his death. What should I say more? the chil­dren should have the same destiny with their Parents, and if the Priests dared to pray for themselves, though after their Emperor, Tiberius would take exception, make an ill interpretation of their Devotions, and quarrel with the Pontifical or­ders. Nay this Prince was so infinitely jealous of his Power, that he destroyed him­self in the person of Seianus: he could not endure the glory of any others, though af­ter [Page 84] their Death: and as he opposed the honours tendred to his mother, when she was alive, he frowned at her funerall Pompes, and interrupted the kindnesse and profusion of the Senate when she was dead. Let us not then be astonish't if Charles the 9th grew jealous at the vertues of his brother, being a passion to which all Princes are so subject, and who have as many examples to follow as Soveraigns, who hardly raign and rule without this passion, which is so common amongst Prin­ces, that Crownes seem tempered as well with Jealousie as Glory. Yet there is no rule but will admit of some exception. Policy, like Janus, hath two faces. I shall now therefore present you with the example of a King, whose resentment was clean contrary to CHARLES the Ninth. DON RAMIR, King of Oviedo, was so far from suspition, that he associated his brother in the Empire, caused him to sit with him in the Royall Throne, cladde him in royall Purple, and imparted to him the joynt fruition of his Crown and Scepter; an Action so eminent, as well deserves our curiosity to discourse the Motives. We have heard the reasons of CHARLES the Ninth, who could not endure a Rivall, or an e­quall. Let us new attend the discourse of DON RAMIR, who would not sit alone in the Royall Throne without the Company of his brother. And after examination of both let us iudge whose reasons were most efficacious and sound.

DON RAMIR TO THE ESTATES GENERALL OF HIS KINGDOM.

I Doubt not but most Capacities will be rather apt to condemn my designe and intentions of the Co-re­gency of my brother with me in the Throne, and will not be inclined to approve this unparallell'd action. But it matters not, Multitudes and tumults are not fit juries to censure Kings, nor proper judges to sen­tence and condemn their pleasures. It sufficeth me if I satisfie men more rationall, and the more eminent persons of my estate, and thereby convince their judgements with those reasons which have obliged me to an action so rare, as to communicate and make a partage of mine authority. Those who dive not deeply into the intentions of Heroick persons, (who whilst they lived, were so famous for their Atchievements, and whose Renown is descended through so many ages to us) may have their eyes dazelled, and their reason startled at this great example; And may rashly conclude it as a matter against all rules of wisdom, to endeavour a communion in Government, where the Kingdome is but little, and therefore the Crown more unfit for any but one. For (they will say) was it im­possible for Caesar and Pompey, who were two such mighty men, so great friends, so linked in Allies, to have contrived a Co-regnation? And doe you thinke that it is possible to be effected by you? Those (I say) who were so incompatible, in the joynt [Page 85] fruition of Soveraignty, that each one would rather adventure the loss of every drop of blood then to be singly supreame? If royall au­thority devided were for the assurance or advancement of any good, or (to speak more plainly) if it were a thing that were possible, what means had not been endeavoured for that resolution. Now as Caesar, and Pomp [...]y, rather abhorred then approved such a one: So Alexander the Great condemned a Rivall in supreme Authority before those noble Heroes. And if such persons have refused, who dare adventure to be an example in so strange, and unprincely participation of Roy­alty? They will yet press further) Great Alexander was peaceable in his Kingdom of Macedonia; Darius was neither his neighbour, nor his enemy; yet notwithstanding to gain command throughout all the Universe, he put himself into a condition either to destroy the Persian power, or else (as one ambitious of more illustrious glory) to fall in that design. Thus Antiquity relates and venerates united Soveraigne authority; so true it is that a divided power hath ever been the mo­ther of disorders and misfortunes. Do we not remember (will some object) that the Founders of Rome were Brothers, and Twins? Yet those who had lain together in one womb could not sit quietly toge­ther in one Throne; and nothing could satisfie untill the blood of the one was mingled in the Morter, and laid in the Foundation of the Walls of that glorious City. Silla and Marius never were in peace, nor could they rest while their power was equall. The Triumvirat, a composition of three choicest men, could not continue long. And An­thony and Lepidus were forced to surrender to the fortune of Augustus: Marcus Aurelius (with all his Philosophy and Wisdome) found it an unsupportable burthen to bear sail with the Factions of Lucius Verus, his Colleague in the Empire. Bassianus Caracalla was voluntarily a Fra­tricide (to reign alone) in the person of Geta. Balbinus and Pupienus, those grave, and sage Princes did adventure an equal perishing, aspi­ring to a superiority out of their ambitious spirits. Gallus and Volu­sianus were massacred by their Souldiers as a reward of their ambiti­ous dissentions. Gallien [...]s creating Odena [...]e his Colleague hastned his own death, with the ruin of the Empire, the envie of Meonius deter­mining his glory with his life. It is very possible that Dioclesian out of discontent to his fellow Consull, after so many Victories and Tri­umphs renounced his Empire to spend the rest of his dayes in solitude. To conclude, all examples of this kind easily demonstrate, that the admission of a companion in the Throne, is neither facile nor tollera­ble. These arguments may be objected against my resolution, but to answer; Examples doe rather illustrate, then demonstrate, and rather per­swade then convince reason. Fortune (who is active in most enterprises) causeth sometimes good successes to spring out of evill counsels, and ill successes oftentimes to be the events of good designes. Wherefore, if we rightly examine whether a thing be good or ill, the thing it self is to be scanned, not the effects which follow, which ordinarily arrive not but through strange causes, for which there may be no merit for accusation. Besides, the apprehensions of Kings, Princes, and great persons, and their actions differing from others, deserve a more ex­traordinary respect. They are not alwaies regulated by a Law, or ne­cessitated to an example, otherwise they must forfeit their reason, and their authority must intirely be destroyed. If the Prince of Ma­cedonia [Page 86] had failed to have been Master of the Universe, his design had been interpreted rash, and he too ambitious, as rather aiming to make himself glorious, then desiring the worlds good, which he so much pretended. His ambition of Renown made him so active; and if the people found themselves happy under his domination; their Fortunes were the more to be esteemed, meeting with a Prince of such grand and noble inclinations. Yet I cannot but say that if that Il­lustrious Conqueror had admitted a co-regence to som eminent King­domes in his Soveraignty, he might better have preserved some vir­tues, which he lost, and not so vainly attempted some things which have spotted his memory and reputation. That stately Castle which he caused so rashly to be burnt at Persepolis; Those voluptuous and Asiatique luxuries which vitiated the noble Macedonians; the death of Cli [...]us and Parmenion, and some such other ignoble accidents possibly had not obscured the splendor of his glorious Reign. As to that dis­course which concerned Caesar and Pompey, they did not in their ambi­tion aim at what was better, but what was greater. Their envy, and emulation was so high, that in the contestation they seemed not to contend so much for the Scepter, as to destroy each other; they had not spirits so moderated, as either joyntly, or successively to reign and govern. And that which is said of Caesar and Pompey may be affirmed of Silla and Marius their Ancestors; for Romulus and Remus, who e'r knows how they were born, fostered, and educated, may easily judge, and have foreseen the ill fortune which arrived to them both, the one brother dying a violent death, and the other living a hainous Fratri­cide: For Augustus, Antonius, and Lepidus, seeing that they were joynt Competitors for Soveraignty, they could not but be harrassed with unquiet perturbations: But as for Marcus Aurelius, and Lucius Ve­rus, though the Government was interrupted with some errors in their Consulship, yet it became not so unfortunate under those two, as un­der many other Princes. It is then neither unjust, nor impossible to admit of a companion, or assistant in Government. Marcus Aurelius did nothing without reason, he was prudent, discreet, and virtuous, to such a degree, that his example is sufficient to justifie my resoluti­on. Caracalla, Balbinus, Pupienus, and others, though they have differed in their judgements, yet have not contradicted my election and choice. And as for Dioclesian and Maximianus, there was no circumstance in their reign which yeelds not some assimulation to my purpose, their conversation was unanimous, they fought, vanquished, conquered, and triumphed alike: And if any difference did arise, it was so pru­dently smothered, as not to stir up any popular trouble, or ill resent­ment: And (for ought we know) when Dioclesian made choice of a private life, it was rather a voluntarie election to retirednesse, then any jealousie of Maximianus, or any injury from so faithfull a Col­league. Besides, in this eminent, and great recession from the Crown, Maximian encountred with as much trouble as Dioclesian could with content and quiet. That which is said of these Primitive Emperors, may be said of others who ruled in Greece since Constantine the Great transferred the Empire: Valentinian associated his brother Valens, and afterwards his son Gratian, who in a succession continued the same Grace with Theodosius, and he to his children Arcadius and Honorius; and when Honorius raigned in chief alone, he nominated Constantius for [Page 87] his Colleague in the Empire. Thus Justinus made choice of Justinian his Nephew, and many others of Princely quality proposed this way as best for themselves, and subjects. Yet if all the Reignes of these severall Princes were not so fortunate, the evill consequents and ef­fects are not to reflect on my design. The same misfortunes have at­tended them who have governed Empires, solely, and without a companion, as it appears too evidently in the said Reigns of Caligula, Nero, and Domitian, and many others who have been as wicked as great. But as I said before, it is not by illustration or examples, but sence of reason that I shall support my undertakings. Did I rely on the precedents of History, the Greeks can plentifully furnish me with examples both great and illustrious. In Sparta, where Morality and Policy seemed to have their birth, and whose rules may guide all o­thers; the command was there legall and usuall for two Kings to be of equall power. But because examples prove nothing, let us listen to reason which most justly challengeth obedience, and is the chiefest authority to govern Princely actions: And now let us see whether she doth not counsel me to place my brother with me in the throne, which rational men must needs confesse an act of greatest Prudence, if it tend to the repose and safety of my people. To know this truth more exact­ly, we must consider, that Monarchy is obvious to many dangerous Concomitants; he who is highest in power, is not alwaies fittest for the discharge of the greatest imployments. Kings, though they are possessors of honour, they are not alwaies friends to virtue, and often share in vice more deeply then any of their subjects. And they who finde themselves ranked in that high condition, that they can doe what they will, (it is to be feared) will not alwaies doe what they ought. The first motions of a provoked King, or of a Prince lesse vir­tuous ought to be feared, as much as lightning. His rage and wrath are equally terrible; he no sooner hates, but is on fire with indigna­tion; he is no sooner displeased, but speedily punisheth all whom he suspecteth to displease him: Innocency cannot stop his fury, his exe­cutions are as swift as his thoughts, his passion is sometimes so vio­lent, that it runneth headlong into a precipitation, where Reason is not admitted to plead, nor Justice administred, but Clemency utterly forgotten. 'Tis true, a Kingdom may be unfortunate where two Princes are equally vitious, but if the one have inclinations to virtue, they wil prevent the errors and defaults of sociall mistakes: But it is rare in Nature to see two men (much less two Princes) of the same humours and tempers, yet some advantage may bee extracted out of the diver­sity of their vices: If one be lazie and idle, it may restrain the choler, and impatience of the other; the coldnesse of the one may serve to correct the hot and passionate humour of his companion. And hee who is too slow may equally be quickened by him who is superactive and vigorous: And why should not that noble emulation which in­liveneth skilfull Artists, and hath made great persons Competitors in Virtues, cause Kings and Princes more eminent in their Office and Go­vernment? From such an innocent Contestation may arise the secure result of peace to a Kingdome, greater Glory to the State, abundant plenty and happinesse to the People. For when a King makes use of his Counsellors, which may be sage, faithfull and wise, yet they are of no other use to him then books are to private subjects, he consults [Page 88] with them but when he pleaseth, admits no conference, but when hee calleth, believeth as he liketh, and acteth nothing but what agreeth with his inclination, and perhaps no part of that which hath been pre­sented in advice; But in this united Government, affaires are not so transacted. Great resolves ought to be at least in the Consultations of two, and the very time of debate may contribute some more exact advantage: The diversity of their opinions and apprehensions may serve to produce a more perfect discussion: And these considerations (if they effect not a happy conclusion) they may at least prevent a precipitation and ruine to the State, and to preserve the Kingdome from a Forraign invasion, or from the combustion and broiles of Civil War, which are not easily quieted without generall destructions. Weigh the conveniencies with the dangers of two equall in Govern­ment, the condition will be more secure, either in Peace or War. In a War the one may govern with Counsell, the other as Generall com­mand the Army: The one in the Court derive Justice to the People, the other in the Camp order Martiall affaires to the incouragement of the Souldier, and terror of the Enemie. It being very difficult in such a juncture of danger to preserve the Civill part from acts of high injustice, and the Martiall from a deep resentment of discontent. Se­ditions and Conspiracies are the common mothers of Civill Warres, which (like more Venomous and Putredinous Creatures generated farther from the Sun) have their birth, and are begotten in the ab­sence of their Kings. Where, if the Beams of authority did shine, the Government would be more illustrious, and secure. Doe wee not see both in martiall and civill Government, both in the Camp and Courts of justice, that there are officers and Ministers who in the ab­sence of the chiefe Commanders and Magistrate, are invested with their authority? and why may it not be as just and reasonable, for a Prince, to have an associate on the Throne? not inferior to him, but his equall, to this end, as not onely to advise and counsell, but like­wise to be a sharer of his vast imployments, and so thereby contribute an equall assistance to support the weight of the Crown and Scepter. In this relation inferiour Persons cannot serve but feebly, in respect of those who have the sacred Character. If you will say, subserviency in Authority may be equally usefull; I answer, Delega [...]ion of power is po­tent in those who grant it, but more feeble and weake in those who receive it: In­feriour creatures (subject to a change and Princely displeasure) have not that Gallantry and Noblenesse of mind, as those who have the high and Divine marks of Soveraignty imprinted on them. Generalls, and great officers of State, mind more their private interest then that of the Crown, and commonly study more to make themselves then their master great. But two Princes of equall interest in the same Crown, as two obedient Sonns in one mother are onely divided in their persons, but not in their desires; Their Glory is the same, their Throne, their Scepter, their Crown, their People, their united inte­rest: And consequently in this Community, they act with greater or­der, and proceed with greater Prudence, and enjoy not onely those preheminencies which Monarchy is said to have above other Go­vernments, but even those also which seem to render an Aristocracy advantagious. The grand Presence of Soveraignty seemes divided, but the Puissance is intire; They are as two great lights in the same [Page 89] Orb, where the authority is equall: The People though they have two Princes, yet they pay but one tribute, and if their judgements differ, the Government growes more secure, and the Princes and people in more safety by their dissenting harmony. This capacity renders a Kingdome more immortall, and admits not an Interregnum though one dye: Nor those Confusions which are very common at the ino­pine and suddain deaths of Princes. By this means a Civill Warre may be prevented; that power being communicated to my brother, which was derived to me from my Unckle, wh [...] might study an usurpation, and the Commotions of the Kingdom, if I had not impar­ted this Grace and Favour to him. And (if I mistake nor) in this action I shall gain this honour, that I shall easily be supposed able to overcome all other Passions after my having been victorious over ambition, which is so naturall to princes. And who shall suspect me covetous after my having admitted my brother to the moyety of my Kingdome? Nor do I abandone those whom God hath committed to my charge; But contrariwise give them a second Protector, thereby endeavouring to provide the more for their safety. It may be objected that I am not so discreet, parting with a thing so puissant and pretious as a Scepter: Yet moderation merits Elogies, as well as ambi­tion. Humble Virtues are as commendable as aspiring and tumultuous honour, and to raigne in peace with Justice, is as glorious as to Conquer triumphantly in Warre. It is fit for a Prince to have the Theory of Violence and severity, but not to practice it, if it be possible. In this condition, if the Moores shall in­vade us with their Forces, our Armies and theirs ready to joyne, the Enemy may be amazed to see two Crowned heads in the Front, and body of the Battalia, or the one in Counsell as the other in the Camp, and so conclude a Throne thus supported, is with more diffi­culty destroyed and subdued.

The Censure.

DON RAMIR hath used his strongest arguments for the pretences of his Brothers Co-regency and Coronation, but whatever this Kings self perswasi­ons were to him, his discourse may be justly censured a Paradox; And a wise man (in this resolution) would rather have been o [...]t of his Kingdome then of his Counsell. As for the Kings of Sparta which he proposeth for example, they were rather the chief of the Senate then Soveraign Princes. And as for the Lacedemonian Ephori, who condemned one of their Kings to dye, it is well known that the King of Lacedemon was but a painted and titular, not an absolute King; And as for DON RAMIR, he could never have established the ill custome of Sparta in the Kingdom of Spain, he might have so concla­ded if he had been a Prince, as high in resolution as birth. Kings are not to degenerate by liberality to Communicate Soveraignty, and thereby to disgrace, if not to destroy Royalty it selfe. That great Prince who onely aimed in all his Conquests, to get that he might give, satisfying himself with fresh hopes, still re­served his Crown intire. The beams of Soveraignty are no longer radient then in the presence of the Sun; This Magnanimous Hero (ready to dye) kept his Crown on his Pillow, and being moved to whom he would commend his Scepter, he answered to him who deserved, it best, when I am dead.

[Page 90] And altheagh Arideus his Brother was in the head of his Army, yet at the point of death he would not name his Succcessor, to preserve his puissant Royalty more in­tire, to the last moment of his life. He said truly on another occasion, Ephestion was another Alexander; but understood thereby that Alexander had given him his heart, not his crown; that he made him his favourite, and not his equall. That great Prince, who wrote to Darius that the whole earth ought not to have two Masters, no more then the heavens two Suns, taught the world another resolution then what Don Ramir practised; and though he conquered Tyre, yet he would never suffer the Royal Robe of Purple to be communicated. This action of Ramir is (as Divines say) more admirable then imitable: for Royalty, like a Mathema [...]i­cal point ought to be indivisible, and that body that hath more then one head, ought not to be interpreted any other then a monster. Philosophy saith, omne bonum est sui diffusivum; but Fortune hath another Maxim clean contrary. The first speaks of intellectuall goods, the second admits not, nor will suffer the community, and participation of Crowns; she will be rather offended to see such an illustrious condition in a divident, and cannot endure that any shall be admitted to her glo­rious favours, holding them too pretious to be rendred divisible and common. Plu­ralities of Caesars can neither be good for Prince nor people, was a speech which the Philosopher Arius used to Augustus; when he alluded to a verse of Homer, then when after the death of Anthony and Cleopatra this Prince disputed with himself, whether it were better to put the young Caesar to death, or save his life. And if the amity of private persons ought to go no higher then the Altar, the grace and favours of Princes ought to go no higher then the Throne; although the Church sings, Ecce quam bonum & jucun­dum fratres habitare in unum, yet she intends the union of private persons, and not of Kings in their high degrees; of brothers who dwell in a house together, and not of them who sit in Thrones: Oh how pleasant is this Feast? said a solitarie churle to one of his humour, who did answer as bitterly, Yes, if thou wert not alive to enjoy it: That which this hater of mankind said of his Table, may be rightly said of Soveraignty, where a Prince can never sit at ease, or secure but when he sits alone. God made man after his own Image; and how can Kings be said to be his Image, but in taking care that they admit not any to resemble them. Royalty like Rivers, if divided, flow and fall into shallow streames, which either quickly freeze, or are speedily dried up. In this example, Don Ramir is like a Rock in the Sea, rather to be avoyded by Princes then imi­tated; if any shall be so weak to permit their reason to be so deluded. Monarchy (as the Greek word hath the signification) is not separable, and the Scripture warranteth, that no one can well serve two Masters. Having now concluded of one too excessive in his bounty, let us treat of a Prince more judicious and wise; who though he graced his favourite with great honours, and liberall dignities, yet was more morally and divinely prudent. JAMES the First, King of England came to that Crown by the testament and death of Queen Elizabeth, those, who knew that her Majesty had put to death the Queen of Scots, his Mother, design­ed to oblige the King to revenge that injury, by punishing those who were the Mi­nisters, and Counsellors of that violent and sad accident, and so to revenge the blood of Mary Queen of Scots with the blood of those Creatures who contrived her death. It is a subject so delicate and tender as not to be touched or decided without his great judgement and reason, whose Kingly examination could deter­mine so weighty a difference: He was another Solomon, and exalted Reason and Philosophy with him to his Throne.

Kings have their Periods; by Dame Natures date, The poore man dies, so doth the Potentate; And though to ye Worlds eye Kings seeme compleater, Their standing high, makes but their fall the greater. Vaughn [...]


KING JAMES TO THE DƲKE OF LENOX.

IF I did not know (most noble, and faithfull Co­sen) that he, who in the Scriptures is called the God of vengeance, is also stiled the God of Mercy; It might prove a peece of great difficulty to my reason what to resolve in this tickle point, and whether I were better to endeavour a generall al­teration of whatsoever Queen Elizabeth setled, who caused my Mother to be put to death; or to countenance and maintain those glorious actions, which were done by that Virgin Queen, who made me King of England. For as Soveraignes are the Images of Divinity (if the second Attribute corrects not the severitie of the first) I were obliged certainly in duty to require blood for blood, and not ascend the Throne without resolving to cause those to ascend a Scaffold, and there to dye, through whose violent counsels she lost her head, from whom I received my breath. But as vindicative Justice is not ever necessary, let us examine curiously a circumstance which so equally concerns mine own glory, and my Kingdoms happi­nesse. Let us consider whether I had better to punish, or pardon, whe­ther the works of Injuries ought to harbour in Princes breasts; or whe­ther they may not more prudently forget, then chastise them. It is not (I protest) otherwise, but as often as the Image and memory of the Queen my Mother is represented to my fancy, my thoughts are afflicted deeply, and I resent strongly, that no Christian, nor prophane policy can permit me to live with honour, and without immortall in­famy, if I cause not those to be put to death, who contrived and coun­selled to take away her life; (for when I recollect that a Soveraigne Queen, the Daughter, Sister, and Wife of great Kings; whose Infancie was protected under the Crown of Scotland, whose riper years advan­ced her to the Crown of France, who bore Illustrious Diadems upon her head, whose hand swaied two glorious Scepters, who in her Wid­dowhood saw my self her Son a King: Consider (I say) a Princesse, attended with so many heaps of glory, after she was constrained to fly from her own Kingdome, and was most ingloriously committed to prison, where extreamity forced her to make her confinement her Asyle; where (after the languishing of twenty years) receiving no air but through some windows, and as if a prison had been weary of her company, not to go out but to ascend a Scaffold, and not to bee discharged of her sufferings but by the hand of an Executioner; and [Page 92] then her head to be cut off ignominiously, which had borne two Roy­all Crownes, the representation of these circumstances are so terrible, that they obfuscate and trouble my reason, and render me incapable to have any other thoughts but what are surprized with sad confusions, to behold such a dolefull spectacle, which possessed all my apprehensions with terrour and Amazement. Yes (my Lord) I see with weeping eyes this most unfor­tunate Queen, whose hair [...]s have grown white rather with griefe and discontent then age, and that tears furrowed her beauty, and not her length of daies: How funest and direfull must my conceptions be, looking upon her prison all hanged with black, and funerall flames lighting her to the Chambers of death, where nothing presented any beauty or constancy but her Majesty attended with Patience, and the Vertue of a Divine Soul. The eyes of all the Spectators broake up, as fresh Fountaines, over-swelling with tears of sorrow; her very Ene­mies, if they did not weep, yet blusht for shame, or waxt pale for griefe: The whole World felt an inundation and new floud of grief; sorrow, and sadnesse possessed all who considered of this unfortunate event, except her self encouraged by her innocency, supported by her Majestie; the Executioner himself (by his sad countenance and trem­bling hand) expressed the thoughts of his heart, his feares to strike, his willingnesse to save her. But in the end (Maugre all this universal compassion) her fair head fell to the ground, her scarlet blood trick­led from her veines, and her pulses keeping no longer time, that beautifull Creature was rendred a dead Corpes. All these circumstan­ces pleade aloud in my breast for vengeance, and remove my resolu­tions utterly from the thoughts of pardon; The Queen my dear Mo­ther had a soul so inured with afflictions, that she was not terrified at the approach of death, nor amazed with the horrour of that punish­ment, which was ready to surprize her with so strong a violence, but even in that Agonie expressed her maternall thoughts and care of me, her generous▪ kindnesse was such to me, that her bitter afflictions could not obstruct her tender affections to her Son. No, not when she was ascending her infamous Scaffold, it becomes me then not to for­get her ascending to my Throne. Griefe did not seize upon her rea­son, though Death upon her Body, and it is fit then that joy should not now give a chock to mine; and though we could not hinder her death, wee cannot do lesse then punish those that caused it. In all these recollections, I cannot make any reparation to her, her recove­ry being impossible; nor to my self, by the revolving over of those oc­currencies, but cause new additions of griefe and sorrow, which are most naturall and proper for the passions of a Sonne: It is neither wise­dom nor Religion to be too violent in any extreamity. To proceed then to a more exact examination; the Royall and Prudent Queen Elizabeth may incurre a censure in the World as lesse politique and wise, who permitted her self to be perswaded to so horrible an action: And as for this example, it is of too dangerous a Nature for Princely qualities to imitate; It is certain that the persons of Kings and Queens, like Temples and Altars, are more sacred, and all care is to be used that they be not demolished, no nor rudely touched; and a resolution to summon such to judgement agrees not with Royall persons, nor justice and reason. The Lawes, which (without doubt) search out Rules for the order [Page 93] of all things, and admit no crime to passe without impunity, yet ne­ver found out nor ordered any Castigation or punishment for Royall persons. The Lawes bear a respect to t [...]eir Masters, and Legisla [...]ors in all Nations, and they are not to submit to their Severity; and although they command the rest of all the whole universe, yet (in their sence in this matter) they proclaim to all the World, that their being and dependency is of Kings, and that Soveraignes are not subordinate and dependant to them. It belongs to Princes to punish the Crimes of their People, and to none but God to punish the Crimes of Prin [...]es. The Queen then though Noble, and in other things a most excellent Princesse, was Enormious and irregular in these proceedings, in which she forbore not to spill the blood of one of equall quality with her self, that can­not but perpetuate to her memory a black reputation, and the exam­ple is so exceedingly strange, that it findeth no president in any Anti­quity. In effect, if Kings are to submit to ordinary justice, the Ma­jesty of Thrones is dissolved, when they are forced to the Scaffold, their Scepters are prophaned, and Monarchy growes transformed into Anarchy, and if such a Rigorous progresse be admitted, the foundati­ons of Royallty will be everted, Princes will be robbed of the re­spects and duty of their people, and they deprived of their protecti­on and be confounded; This would Eclips the splendor of the most imperiall Crownes, and destroy and magnificence of the most secured Thrones, Scepters, and Robes of Royallty be contemptible, and ve­nerable Majesty be in no value or estimation, the sacred Character (which distinguisheth Crownes) would be defaced, and Kings would not only cease to retain their Royall Dignity, but surcease to be the Image of God. After all these considerations let us examine whe­ther it be consistant with my renown to receive the Crown of Eng­land, and to make use of that Soveraign power to revenge these par­ticular injuries: And whether that hand which gave me the Crowne ought not to be respected in the person of her cruell Counsellors, who transported her to cause the Queen of Scots to dye. Those who judiciously consider affairs without partiality, and preoccupation, can judge, that Revenge onely belongeth to God, and that the Acts of justice, not of vengeance belongs to Kings. Such judgements conclude that Princes can reward or punish, and referre the vindicative part to God himself, for Revenge (in what shape soever it appears,) doth not or­dinarily spri [...]g or proceed, but from the motion of a violent passion, when reason is in troubles and deprived of liberty; Fury is a compani­on of Revenge, and throws down immoderate bounds, and limits; ha­tred exasperateth fury, and sets revenge in such an addresse as this, effects not only extream injustice, but likewise most horrid cruelties It is most j [...]st then to transfer the revenge of injuries to God himself, who (free from passion) can punish without hat [...]ed or fury. If the case be so with all men in generall, how prone may Princes prove to outrages? their passions do not like greater bodies turne with slower motions, but are as swift and terrible as lightning; they whose power is greater, their displeasure is too apt to grow more dangerous. yet (my Lord) per­haps you will tell me this discourse is rather a Morall then a Politi­call argument. To that I answer, that with virtuous Princes, these two things, justice and mercy ought to be inseparable, and as twins to their mothers breasts, they are to be equally admitted to Kings Coun­cells, [Page 94] where they may propose or dispute, but never directly oppose each other: principally when the Matter is important. Tis true, Ty­rants call but one of these to their resolute deliberations, but a Christian Prince must have the company of both in the dispensation of all their Royall Offices; be not you amazed then if I admit her who is more Sage and wise to speak first, before we admit the other, who, as we account, is more bold and hardy, and if on this subject I appeal to her, whose assistance I judge necessary to oppose the o­ther: It is true, the noise of the second (who is more loud) is more commonly heard, but the advise of both is best, and more conforma­ble to Christian Government; But seeing there is no matter which ac­cording to the fancy of the Artists may not be discoloured, and so the Complection altered, what appearance (will some one say) present­ed it self to impress a resolution in the Kings of France and Spain to revenge the death of Mary Steward Queen of Scots, and can you who are a Son do lesse? what security can you fancy your selfe to affie in those who were in the Counsells, and who drew up the processe, and made themselves Peeres to a Soveraign Queen, and then to pronounce a sentence of death against her? The names of Thomas Bromley Lord Chancellor, of William Burleigh Lord Treasurer, of Edward Earle of Ox­ford Lord Chamberlaine, of George Earle of Salisbury Lord Marshall of England, of Ambrose Earle of Warwick Master of the Ordnance, of Hen­ry Earle of Derby, of George Earle of Cumberland, of Edward Earle of Rut­land, of Henry Earl of Pembrook, of Henry Earle of Lincolne, and those o­thers, these names (I say) do present not onely horrour to those who then effectively condemned the Dowager of France and Queen of Scots to death; but do derive the same to all those who shall beare those titles, with a black stain of in justice and dishonour. Think you that those who have been so severe and rigorous to the Mother, can ever be reduced to be loyall and obedient to her Son? at least, doe you believe that you can ever confide in them, or they in you, seeing that they have been so cruel to a Princess, & caused her imprisonment twenty years, who in all right, ought not to have been under their com­mand? were they not over bold to lay their hands on my most dear Mother, when they considered that I her Son was lawfull successour to that Crown? how might I give credit to their words or counsells, but rather expect their designes to ruine my self, my Queen and Chil­dren, who had been so barbarous to root up that Royall stock which bare me? may not I rather be jealous that those who had provided an Executioner for the Mother, would have found out a Regicide for me? and upon this juncto of Reasons, might not they fear my resolutions, thus in raged to exterminate them and their posterities? see (my Lord Duke) those reasons which oblige me to decry and destroy what ever Qu. Eliz. and her party did, in causing the death of my Royal Mother: from these arguments I can hardly resolve to maintain and counte­nance Qu. Elizabeths actions, though she discovered her willingnesse to my Succession, to make me King of England. O (my Lord) there is yet a secret within my soul which makes me conclude that it seems just that I should revenge the cruelty of these Barbarous Polititians, which motion if I did not restraine with more piety and greater prudence; the Reign of Henry the Eight, should not be more full of terrour and confusion, then that of James the First, and England thereby see and [Page 95] feele more strange alterations then ever it had endured before. In this Resolution the Tombe of the Queen my Mother should bee covered with the spoyls of her, and my cruell Enemies; and revenge should be so full of blood as capable to inspire terrour into all, who should be spectators of that action. This might be a means more se­curely to preserve the heads of all Kings from the conspiracy of such violent, and evill Counsellors. Though this policy (at first notion) might seem prevalent, [...]nd most forcible to perswade my resolution, yet other successes have administred cause and reasons for other de­terminations. Seeing that very hand which signed the Warrant for my honoured Mothers death, signed the Declaration which caused me to be proclaimed King of England. And as to this particular, I am as well bound to acknowledge and reward so high a favour, as to revenge so high an injury. I am not ignorant how that in this solemn action, that Queen gave me no more then what was mine own by a just inheri­tance, and succession; and that by her Royall Testament she did no more then confirm what was declared to me by King Henry the eight; yet if this Princess had pleased, shee might have declared that which might not have proved so advantagious to my expectations; shee might have objected, that my dear Mother the Queen had not been of the Religion imbraced in England, that though she were a Queen, yet she was a Stranger: And as for my self, that I was the Son of her whom she had caused to be destroyed: She might have caused her Father King Henry his Will to be cancelled & annulled in Parliament, she might have made another, and so have made a Favourite, or (if she had pleas­ed) her people her Heir: These difficulties might have obstructed my ascent, and passage to the Crown. Besides, in this Act, if she did not re­pair, and render satisfaction for her cruel error, yet she manifested to all the world her resentment and detestation of what she had done, by re­compencing her evill for good; and that having been circumvented by persons as unjust as wicked, she could elect, or follow better counsels; and if her jealousie and malice had so far transported her, as to cause her to put my Royall Mother to death, it was not through those passi­ons, that she caused me her Sonne to be crowned. The ill humour of malice is not easily purged, nor quickly abandoned, it usually reacheth not onely the person hated, but all coneomitants and relations near. Children and Kin­dred grow odious where a Parent is in detestation, and dislike; this infection reacheth often to those who are of a name; and (perhaps) stops not, but groweth epidemical, and produceth odium to a Nation. In the effects of this Queens proceedings I find other operations, the Queen expresseth no malice to my person, but rather on the contrary, studies my honour, and endeavours my Coronation: And from hence I may most rationally conclude, that some secret maxim, and policy of State put a resolution to that savage action; and consequently if any duty binds me to forget her memory who caused my Mother to dye, or being the Son of so great a Queen; yet in all the rules of gratitude and prudence, I am bound to honour and respect her Noblenesse and great favours to me, whom she adopted her Son, and Successor to her Throne. But (may some one object) will it not be enough that you e­ternize not her memory by prejudicial manifestoes to her honour and reputation, that you destroy not her Tomb, and that you permit her Ashes to sleep quietly in repose, but that you must continue your Roy­all [Page 96] Authority in the hands of those Ministers which were her crea­tures, and let them stil enjoy those high offices wherein they exercised such unheard of inhumanity, and in persons, who made no scruple to put his Mother to death, who was heir aparent to the Crown, and could not fail (if he survived) to be their soveraign? I confesse (my Lord) this reason is very strong and sound, and the answer that I shall make is no lesse. I told you before she acknowledged me to be her heir, and adopted me her Son, so that if I should have revenged her actions with severity, I should most imprudently have presumed to have censured the errors and deviations of my greatest benefactor too bitterly, and like impious children, not onely have hated the vices, but the person of so great a Queen: But good Children, though they may hate unjust proceedings of their Parents, are not onely to forbear to punish, but are obliged to cover and conceal their errours and infirmities; To distinguish perfectly betwixt the crimes and the offendors, who (though never so Culpable) yet they can hold them worthy of honour and admiration. We may weep then bitter­ly for the death of the Queen my Mother, and yet not proceed to an accusation, or be severe to Queen Elizabeth, since the one was my Mo­ther by Nature and blood, & the other made me a Son by her election when she lived, and her Testament (when she dyed) left me a Crown. Adoption (in all ages) hath been received as an action not to be violated, but with great injustice, and venerable history (in her antiquity) accompanies truth with her examples, and boldly tells us, that we owe an equall respect to those who have adopted, as really as to those who have given birth unto their Children. Adopti­on hath conveyed Crownes and Empires often to those who have beene received and acknowledged by all the World in their Thrones and Soveraignty: and 'tis just to imagine that the choicest respect is ever due to the bounty of the Adopter. Parents who give us our Nativity, do not alwaies leave us an inheritance, which perhaps fortune or ill events have deprived from them; but those who in their Election freely transferre their estates to us, their gift, as it is most admirable for its merit, so it ought to be more noble in acceptance, and conse­quently their voluntary choice may seem (if possible) to oblige us more, then our Naturall Parents. When first we come into the World, our Parents cannot but incline with tender affection unto us; the cause of that passionate and tender quality is a secret and mystery concealed in our bloud, and riseth from the inclinations of Nature, and yet that amity (how strong soever) seemes not to differ much from the instinct of brutes, which naturally forceth their love and care towards their young ones. But in Adoption, there is another o­peration, there is an affection and choice, and that springs not rudely from sence, but from the strength of reasons, where the Agent strictly examines the object, before it fall in love with it, and dotes not with fancy, but with wisdome, before it orders gifts or setleth possessions. In effect I am very certain, if Queen Elizabeth had not believed that my Soul had been more inclined to generosity then revenge, she would not have commended her Soveraignty and Crown to me, she would not have acquitted all her favorites, and remitted her Scepter to my hands: there would not have been wanting persons, neither within nor without the Kingdome, capable enough to support or defend a [Page 97] Scepter. We may resolve then, if she have called me to the Throne, it was because she judged me worthy, because she believed it appertain­ed to me, because she hoped I would render respect to her memory, and never violate or break those bonds of love; and having regard to the Noblenesse of her favours towards me, I might be more firmly obliged from all thoughts of Revenge, in a matter clean out of the reach of reparation; and to which, oblivion and silence prescribed the best remedies. Do not you believe (my Lord) if (at my comming to the Crown) I had filled the Prisons with the Grandees of the King­dome, who were the chiefe Authors of my Mothers death, and had commended to the great Offices of the Kingdome such ignorant per­sons, who had had no imployment or trust under Queen Elizabeth, think you not that such a suddaine alteration would have caused a speedy generall Confusion over all the Kingdom, and that at my first accesse to the Crown, I might seem to govern neither with safety nor honour? Should I have banished those bloudy Councellors, all the secrets and mysteries of State might have been discovered to forraign Princes; some of them were Ministers, and imployed under King Ed­ward the Sixth, some under Queen Mary, & others under Qu. Elizabeth, who was too wise to discharge those whom she judged fit for conti­nuance in such high imployments, though they had been prime parties in other factions, and violent Enemies against her person and inte­rest. Yet (may one object) she had no occasion to think on Revenge, for those who caused her Mother Anne Bullen to be put to death, and were Councellors and abettors of that act, they were dead long be­fore Queen Elizabeth began to Reign. But I shall easily answer to that: her actions were chiefly imployed for the conservations of her selfe, for during the Reign of her Sister Queen Mary, she being unjustly suspected to have been a conspirator with those who indeavoured to hinder the match with Spain; the Privy Councell concluded that shee deserved the same destiny as Jane of Suffolk, and was in danger to have lost her head; of which result in Councell, the Lady Elizabeth not be­ing ignorant, waited with patience her better fortune; and after comming to the Crown, she preserved in memory their names, who had been such desperate Councellors against her, and in processe of time, she met with opportunities to revenge those particular injuries; but upon new and fresh pretences. We are not then to be lesse prudent then she, whose dangers are as great, and businesse as infinite: Besides, in this action of her adoption, she hath not onely aimed at my re­nown, but likewise at the repose and welfare of the people, so that her example guideth me in the paths of policy, and not to provoke and anger the Hornets nests, when I may passe by quietly (without the least murmuring) to my Crown. If then I should be superactive in such a dangerous design, in whose fidelity and strength might I confide? the number of the offendors is not so inconsiderable, as to perswade me to dream that I can destroy them in a moment; and as for relation to themselves, they are not onely acquainted with all mysteries of State; but they are likewise active Ministers of state in the chiefest places of the Kingdom, wherein as they have gained much Treasure, so doubtlesse they have obtained the hearts of the people, whereby a greater difficulty would arise if I should contest rashly a­gainst such a party. Besides to commence a Reign with a Civill War, [Page 98] were to put the State and Kingdom in a capacity of desolation, and such a violent motion might invite the people to such a hatred of me, that they might be hardly or never reconciled. If I had resolved on this course, an hundred thousand Innocent persons might have pe­rished in the design of a revenge of a few notorious Counsellors, this had been to undertake a great Evill for the bringing to effect a little good. If I should exterminate all, whom I neither can, nor ought to love, such a Revenge would produce but a feeble satisfaction. The blood o Kings is to pretious too be satisfied with the blood of Subjects, and all that I might do (in such a re-encounter) might prove unworthy of a Royall Prince, who (as I said before) honoureth Vertue and Mo­rality as well as Policy. The oblivion of injuries is an Act every way as noble as revenge: And in some cases more glorious, principally then when one forgets not an outrage which he dares not revenge, onely because his wisdome judgeth it not fit. In this occasion, I ought seriously to consider that I do not onely receive the Scepter from the hands of a Woman, but from her who hath swayed it very gloriously, and hath raigned with honour, from a Lady who knew how to govern in peace, and vanquish in War, who could stop and prevent revolts as well as defend her self from forraigners: And could force her subjects and her neighbours to fear her if they did not love her; and was so fortu­nate as who triumphed over all who ever dared to oppose her. I leave you then to judge (my Lord Duke) if a Prince whom so il­lustrious a Queen called to the Throne, should begin his Reign by the destruction of all, which she had maturely established. If I should not give occasion to all men to believe, that the Kingdom would be spee­dily reduced to disorders, and confusion: And consequently nothing to be expected but Ruine and desolation. It is very important that the first Action of Princes shou [...]d presage the symptomes of their Reign, and foretell their last conclusions. Wherefore in the first step to a Throne, the Prince is ob­liged to depose and set apart all passion, and admit no company to that Royall seat but tru [...] Glory: The memory of what is past is not so necessary as the consideration of what is present, and a provision of what is to come: In which high degree, it will be an addition of Renown to outstrip and surpasse in vertues all who have preceded. The Prince (if he be wise) will prepare his desires not to revive the errors of his predecessors, nor to publish them, but to avoide them; and I could not but be guilty of injustice, if I should dare to declare my self abso­lute Judge of the Actions of Queen Elizabeth, who suffered her wise­dome to hearken to those Counsellors, whom she judged most able for her advice. Her Actions are not to be examined by any alive, but onely God in his Tribunall: the same obligation which should have preserved her from causing the Queen of Scots to dye, forbiddeth me to intermeddle in the censure of her Royall proceedings. So that if I honour her memory, it was because she was a Queen, if I cover and hide her errors, it is because she made me her Adopted Son, if I continue her creature in the imployment of mine affairs, it is because the King­domes safety and repose requires it. As for private injuries, as they are commonly betwixt the subjects, they are lesse considerable with Princes. That famous Roman spoke not amiss. Who said, that Caesars Erection of Pompeys Statues might better secure his own, and makes me apprehend (in this argument) that a confirmation of what [Page 99] Queen Elizabeth did, may better ratifie what I shall establish during my Reign, and that respect which I render to her memory, will be presented to my person, and that I shall act nothing tending towards her honour, but what shall reflect to mine advantage. The change of great Officers in a Kingdome is little lesse dangerous then the change of the Prince, which ought not to be without great and weighty considera­tions. Affaires of State ought not sleightly to be managed, and if a maxime be resolved on, it is more safe to proceed then dishonourably to retreat. What Variety of dangers might I expose my self and Kingdome to, if I should think fit to banish those who under the Queen have been the chiefe supporters and Governours of the State? It was not now long since the Reformation of Religion, at which time particular Interests (under the shapes of devout pretences) promoted those terrible alte­rations; should I then think of dying Thames in bloud, as my Ancestors had done not long before. I know, I cannot (with mine own honour) stain their reputation, but I may be defended if I onely remember their errours the better to avoid them; let us then think it fit, not to hearken to that bloudy Policy which establisheth not Thrones, but with the ruine of those who ought to support it; Who pardon none with Clemency, but injustly condemn the least appearances of evill, and in satisfaction to their owne ambition, bear no respect to the highest quality of men, and reverence no sex, no lawes, nor virtue her selfe: but (on the contrarie) let us hearken to that rationall Policy which foundeth Thrones and Crownes in the preservation of the Grandees, which hath inclinations mercifully to pardon and con­demn not to an extremity; who can honour a Royall person in her Tombe, who can reverence Lawes and vertue to such a degree, that he hath respect for her memory, who would not be satisfied, but with the bloud of his Mothers. I know some are of opinion, that a tempestu­ous commencement prepares a way to a more secure Reign, but in my judgement (on this occasion) that Policy is too desperate; for if I pardon all who have offended, it is impossible but some party should be affected with my generosity; and if I should punish all, I should inevitably multiply mine Enemies, in their Kindred, in their Friends, and their dependencies; who (on such a Provocative pretence) might raise an Army against me, which (in all probability) may prove no lesse valiant then that sacred bond of the Antients, who be­ing armed, marched with greatest violence to revenge the death of their Father, their Brothers, and their Friends. Yet you will answer me, things of greatest difficulty (being effected) render the most absolute duty. To that I reply, if they be injust, they ought not so much as to be attempted. True glory doth not ever attend the most hardy en­terprize, and matters of greatest difficultie. Moreover a Prince ought not to ex­pose the lives of his subjects to the perill of death, whether it be in War or Peace, without great necessity, and prudent consultation; for their blood is the most pretious and sole Jewell, of which he ought to have the most exactest care, and hee had rather be sparing and thrifty of that choicest Treasure, then of all other of his Estate. For it is for that prin­cipally, for which he shall render an accompt to him who gave him So­veraignty: Who permits him not (above all other restraints) to be a­busive and prodigall of his subjects blood. From the considerations of these reasons, we incline to save the lives of our subjects, and (at our [Page 100] first coming to the Crowne) rather chose to court our enemies with the favour of Clemency, then to correct them with the Rod of Jus­tice. On these grounds we shall render honour to the memory of Queen Elizabeth, & countermanding our naturall affection with reason, and policy we will make the whole world confesse that we are not un­worthy to Reigne & to enjoy our Princely Throne. Passing by then our Royall Mothers hearse, let us look up towards the Throne, to which the Queen of England hath prepared and facilitated our ascent; let us suspend that tendernes of Soule which might dissolve us with teares, and minde nothing more, but true noblenesse and generosity, remem­bring, it belongeth to a Prince properly to pardon private injuries, and that it is a chiefe point of wisdome not to lose faire and fit occasions; for in an observa­tion so seasonable the Estate and publick good may be more highly advanced, and more solid Lawes ordained for their preservation. In these resolutions we embrace and welcome our present condition, concluding, that the generall repose of the Kingdome requires it, that mine owne glory consents to it, and that my Soule is resolved to maintaine, by a disinteressed vertue all that Queen Elizabeth establish­ed, who though she tooke away the life of my Mother, commended a Crowne and Kingdome to me her Sonne.

The Censure.

IT is a question very Problematicall, and a controversie much disputed among Politicians, whether Clemency or Rigour be more necessary or profitable for Princes, and which of the two render their Kingdome more peacefull and glori­ous. Both opinions want not strong desendors; since the World began, this question hath not received a full resolution: some affirme 'tis better to be loved then feared; others, that it is better to be feared then loved; each one (in the order of his con­tention) fortifies his opinions and arguments; Rigour pretends to carry more of Majesty, Clemency hath a beame of glory, which seemeth to shine with more hu­manity; the one saies she rules more securely, the other that she raignes more honourably; both strive to beare away the Palme. A famous Politician feared not to say, that a Prince ought to puffe at that infamy which seemeth to staine his reputation, because he was cruell; the reason is, because that quality renders his subjects more obedient. But (in my opinion) this is to set on fire the Temple of Diana. When Machiavell broached this false proposition he prepared an infamous memory to himselfe, which his booke still retaines. In effect, if glory be certainly the proper object of renowned princes, how can they support infamy as a matter indifferent? And how can that Prince who Reigns without ho­nour live a moment without danger? We cannot be ignorant of that antient sentence, he who scornes his owne life may easily become Master of a­nothers; and what can provoke a man to be more violent and desperate, then the cruelty and injustice of him who commands in chiefe? Machiavell (the mali­tious Florentine) staide not at his first proposition, but he said, 'twere good for a Prince to be loved & feared; but seing it is a thing impossible to en­joy both these passions at one time, in case either should faile, it is much better to be feared then loved. Why should that branded Polititian make feare and love impossible and inseparable? could he be ignorant that all the vertues consist in a concatenation, and are linked together? Justice and Cle­mency [Page] are not incompatible though they seeme (almost) contrary. Did he never read in the holy Scriptures, that the feare of the Lord is the beginning of Wisdome? Or would he conclude thence this abominable consequence, that because one was obliged to feare God, that therefore it was impossible to love him? did he pretend to teach the world policy, and instead thereof produce Atheisme? Did he not know that there is as well a filiall as a servill feare, which second (though it be without Love) yet the first walkes with love hand in hand? This bewitching Spirit farther adds, Men love according to their owne pleasure, but they feare according to the pleasure of their Prince, who if judicious and wise, ought to rely cheerfully on that strength which d [...]pends on himselfe, and not on that Transient humor which depends on the people. Where doth Machiavill finde that the Prince is not interessed to gaine his peoples love aswell as their feare? Are not graces and favours as well in his hands as the Sword of justice? and as for those who feare him, are they utterly uncapable of his honour and respect? It is an antient precept, if thou wilt be beloved thou must be loving. This is na­turall, an innocent Magicke and works infallibly as well betwixt Kings and subjects as private persons. He who maketh freindship his treasure may be liberall, when he pleaseth without danger of profusion. That Au­thor was a grosse flatterer and spake little truth, who stiled Hanniballs cru­elty a vertue, for in the same Argument he concluded Clemency a vice. The holy Scriptures warrant that Abyssus Abyssum invocat, and the Moralists tell us, that vices are link'd and chain'd together as well as vertues. To conclude then, this Juditious and wise King hath been the disciple of a better Master, and learned his Christian pollicy in a better Schooll; he well understood that gol­den saying of Antiquity, Ne quid nimis: and he had (doubtlesse) read in the French History, that it became not the King of France to revenge the quarrels of the Duke of Orleance, and likewise it consisted not with the wis­dome of the King of England to revenge the quarrells of the Queen of Scots, and therefore this most learned and prudent Prince did proceed judiciously, and the felicity of his raigne hath left an assured testimony of his wisdome to all the World. But seeing we are now in England, let us discourse of another famous King who raigned in that Throne: and examine another question as equally important and of as great curiosity to be determined: an example which hath no [...] any impression in histories of Antiquity Henry the seventh, who (before he came to the Crown) was stiled Duke of Richmond, after he had been a long time banish­ed and an exile, returned into England in the head of an Army: and gave bat­tle to Richard the third, a Prince of the house of Yorke, who had u [...]urped the Crowne, Henry having given an intire defeate slew the usurper, and made him­self absolute Master of the Kingdome; being then at the point to enter into London (the Metropolis of the Kingdome) he discreetly deliberated how he should receive the Crowne, whether as conqueror or lawfull heir to the house of Lancas­ter, or as husband to Elizabeth, Sister and Daughter to the la [...]e King of Eng­land, over whom the Tyrant had usurped. See here his reasons, in preference of the second before the other two, to confirme a right of succession without prejudice to that of conquerour, or that Title of the Queen his wife.

HENRY THE SEVENTH TO THOMAS STANLEY.

IT is not enough for a Prince to know how to van­quish (faithful and loyall Stanley) but it is necessary for him to understand how to make use of his victo­ry; The Battail which I have gained, must not so transport me with joy & exaltation, as to perswade me to a security in my present condition; but that I must think how to make my joyes lasting and durable. I know well my Enemy is dead, his Army defeated, his Ty­ranny destroyed, the bloud Royall revenged, that all England re­joyceth at my successes, and that the Souldiers, by their publique and generall acclamations, have proclaimed me King, that the Prin­cesse Elizabeth attendeth for my espousall, and that you (brave Stan­ley) have put that Crown upon my head which Richard Barhawarly usurped from his innocent young Nephew King Edward. Yet before I receive this Royall Honour, it becomes me to examine, by what title and right I may most judiciously entertain it. The Scepter appertain­eth to me in severall and different rights, which may hereafter prove as different effects; therefore I judge it very proper to advise what choice may prove most necessary to mine advantage, and most glori­ous for my renown. In these different titles, I am not ignorant that neither the time nor the place are (at present) convenient for so confident a debate in a matter of so great importance; Being yet in the Camp after so bloody a battail, where I am invironed with so many dead and dying Friends, and Enemies, where the outcry of some for their wounds, and the acclamations of others for victory, makes such strange confusion, where some are so elevated with joy and ho­nour, others are tumultuously transported with the spoiles, and prey of the field, where the Victors are so tryumphant, and the subdued E­nemies so afflicted and dispierced: I am not ignorant (I say) that it might become me rather to be Tryumphant with my Army, or to think of my repose, (after so great a battail as hath been fought) then to amaze my self with reasons and arguments on this subject; but I know (most valiant Stanley) that Conquerors are never weary, and it may be said truly of me, that I fought not now singly for honour, as illustrious Romans have often done, whom nothing perswaded to the War but the design of a Noble reputation; No, it was for the Throne and Crown of England that I dared and fought with Richard, who [Page]

Titulum ne horresce novantis, Non rapit Imperium vis tua, sed recipit. Ausonius de Severo.

[Page] [Page 103] now destroyed, it becoms me to lay firm and sure foundations for my future Reign, and Government: to effect which thing with judge­ment, I must examine how I ought to receive the Crown, whether Tryumphantly as Conqueror, or pretending to espouse Elizabeth the Daughter and Sister of the late King of England, or else as Heir of the house of Lancaster, receiving the rights of that Royall Family with design of prejudice to that of York, because the Nobles of the Kingdome had been favourable to that house, whence Princess Elizabeth des­cended, and have condemned the Rights and title of that of Lancast [...]r in so many Parliaments. The first is a Title as hardy and bold as glorious, the second was facile to be effected, but the third and last is certainly the best, though it may appear more difficult and dange­rous; but to consider these three apart, let us examine first if that right of Conqueror may not lay the foundation strong enough to bear up the Title and Crown of the King of England, without a dependency and Co-assistance of that of Marriage with Princesse Elizabeth, or that of Inheritance and pretence to the right of descent to the house of Lancaster. I am well assured (generous Stanley) that if you shall demand my judgement and opinion in this difficulty (having found the Crown which Richard woare amongst the booty and spoiles of the field, and having come to place it on my head) I am assured (I say) that you wil conceive my judgment may conclude, that I have no reason nor occasion to dream of Elizabeths Title, or to look so far as the house of Lancaster, nor to consider the bloud of either house: but that I should receive the Crown as Conquerour, and the reward of Victo­ry; and so presented from thy hands to him, who came to defeate and destroy the usurper Richard, and by this sole conquest could now as easily mount unto the Throne, as give the prey & spoils of the field to the Souldiers of my Army. In effect it may be said, that Force and power are the chiefest supporters of Monarchy, and founda [...]ion of Empires, these create the Grandure of Republiques, these founded Rome, and made her great and glorious, till (at last) she became Mistris of the World. And as these did put up, so they pull'd down that glorious Empire; the same fate raised the Monarchies of the Assyrians, of the Medes and Persians, of the Parthians, and Grecians, and so many famous Governments, of Athens, Lacedemon, and Thebes; and of many others, which have commanded and ruled, and ceased to Reign by the for­tune and fate of force and power, which alone have raised and de­stroyed Kingdomes since the first Creation of the World. Power hath as well made legitimate Kings as barbarous usurpers, and the wheele of fortune could not turne to the Eversion of Crownes and Thrones without the conjunction of her assistance; and noble Titles, and the way to true Glory and renown, are commonly made by her: Shee looks not after Pedigrees, nor searches after the Genealogies of Prin­ces, who Reignes within this Title; she hath no occasion of Mani­festoes to delude a popular Credulity, and to deceive and amaze the Grandees of a Kingdome. It sufficeth her to say, I have vanquished, I have gained the battail, my Enemy is dead, his Throne belongs to me, and if the same force which made me vanquish, can maintaine and support my power, I am King, I will raigne gloriously. See (sage Stanley) what they will say, who be perswaded that force and power makes a Title to be just and right. It is true, that some small com­mencements [Page 104] of War have laid great foundations to future hopes, and powerfull possessions of Soveraignety have drawne on securely popular faith, and dutifull submissions. And certainly (I thinke) before Religion set bounds to un­limited ambition of Princes, this kind of Right was not only practised and permitted, but seemed most secure and serviceable: and (as to my selfe) I have had this advantage, that I have chased from the Throne him who had usurped it by force, and not only so, but basely by treason, and the violent death of his Prince and his owne nephews, and by such murders and execrable Crimes, that the very mentioning and remembrance thereof, may amaze with horrour: and it seemeth to me more reasonable & possible that (these circumstances considered) a Conqueror having vanquished so bloody an usurper, might be well received as a legitimate Prince, and yet how glorious soever this ti­tle may seem, I judge it fit to renounce it on this occasion, rather then to hazard to loose that which I have now so fortunately and honou­rably gained. Who knowes not but that those Souldiers who marched with me to Combat with the Tyrant might forsake me, if I (after the victory) became as horrid an oppressor as Richard. And who knowes but that the Nobles and Grandies of the Kingdome might be as reso­lutely provoked against me as against the usurper, to a popular com­motion and my Eternall troubles, if I tooke the Title, and then (as most necessary) subjected all things to the Conquerors will. The right of power belongeth to others as well as to me, and if I had not a Ti­tle more just, I should not have occasion to seek for one that is evill; which if (at present) it may serve me, might as well serve others in their turne. Tis true to begin to reigne with such resolution, might have the reputation of hardy and glorious; but such violence could not continue to any long duration of time; an entire age (at least) might be required to corroborate (with all the arts of policy and power of Sword) a conquest of this kinde, and in conclusion (before the people would be reduced to obey without murmuring) a Prince would be constrained either to quit his Throne or loose his life, and so cease to be a King or be alive, before he could reape & enjoy the fruits of his victories. Besides (as the affaires of England stood) the Title of Conqueror might have proved too terrible to the people, and too dangerous to the Prince, at that season, when (in all appearances) a quality more equitable was more requisite, and it was not fit then to administer the least pretext to the people, that might exasperate their clamourous humour to decry their Princes marching towards, and not as yet securely seated in his Throne. It is alwaies an ill conjuncture when a subject renders his obeisance to his Prince, not because he conceives it his duty, but because he dares doe no otherwise; a Prince is never well served with such forced devoires, nor the subject well satisfied with such unpleasant Com­mands. Perhaps (Noble Stanley) you will tell me yet that there is a­nother way whereby I may more safely ascend to the Throne, which policy doth not onely teach me to be secure, but morality perswades me, is very heroick and noble; yes (faithfull Stanley) I know well if I espouse Princess Elizabeth, I shall not need to set forth any declarations to manifest my Title and Right to the Crowne, she being sister and daughter to the late Royall Kings; the people look upon her as the true and undoubted heire of the kingdome, And marrying her after my vanquishing of the Tyrant who slew her Brothers, and usurped [Page 105] the Crown from her, and swayed that Scepter which belonged to her; I doubt not, but for this, I should be honoured as the Liberator of the Estate, and esteemed as Heroick and Generous; that all the People would extreamly honour me, and that my modera­tion should be admired as most extraordinary, and infinitely valuable after such victorious successes. But, to speak truth, I should doubt extreamly if I made choice of this way, whether I might be esteemed to have been as Prudent as I had been Fortunate, and whether I had not better have received my Crown from the hands of fortune in expectation of the continuance of her favours, rather then from the hands of a Woman; for (without doubt) it is a high degree of Fortune to be advanced to be a King, but I do not think it a thing so intirely desireable to be the husband of a Queen, and (in my present apprehensions) A Throne it self is lesse lovely, when I must approach unto it onely as the chiefest subject of her whom I must espouse. In effect what obedience or loyallty may I expect from a people who should not acknowledge me for their Soveraign? what submission might I expect, or honour from those Nobles, who (were I dead) might have Capacity to be successour to my relation and place; what reverence might I expect from my Children, who (if my Queene should die) may become my Soveraign, and I their Subject? What (Noble Stanley) were it fit for me (having gained a Crown by my prowesse and valour) to put my self in such a condition, that I might be forced to leave it? and if my Queen should dye, to wear a mourning weed instead of a Royall Diademe? If I should accept a Throne up­on these termes, I might be forced to depend upon mine own Chil­drens Wills and pleasure; Or (if I should have none) an other pre­tender might contest for my removall, and claim a right, and so I might be forced to obey whom I had commanded. No, no, this choice could not manifest absolute power, nor could this borrowed fortune satisfie the Ambition of my Renown; this acceptation of Royall Authority might give me some splendor, but not render me truly glo­rious, these streames seem to flow not from the Fountain of mine own, but anothers soveraignty. Kings ought to acknowledge none for their superiours but God. I doe not conceive to be a husband and a subject to a Queen, are qualities compatible: In one relation the hus­band is to be the head, in the other the wife; and if the Queen intend to render her self, and husband truly happy, it is necessary that he be her King, and so her Chiefe; without which relations their condition can neither have true honour nor true content, and without them a Court were worse then a Prison, and soveraignty as little lovely as servitude. Now if she love her husband, and that by a most rare vertue, shee pleaseth to condescend so farre, as to be ruled, and Reigne by him, the Subjects will presently murmur and cry out, the King's a Tyrant to his Queen, and she but his illustrious slave. Some will speake too boldly, others complain judiciously, and some prevaile to perswade too far with insinuations and suggestions: When his Children shall grow up to age, they will not be free from flattering inspirations to incline them to jealousies and suspitions against their Father; some will dare to inform them that he invades and usurpes the Crown, that if the Queen dye, he will neglect and have no Paternall respects for them, and that therefore they rather ought to Court the People then [Page 106] honour their Father. These suspitions are too apt (ordinarily) to grow reciprocall, and are fixed too naturally near the Souls of such eminent persons. Difference in opinion breeds dissention in resolution, dis­sention draweth on aversion, and aversion changeth love to hatred, and hatred breeds revolts, and revolts proclaime open Warre; so that by these degrees, discontents thrive to be irreconcileable: The people fall into greater troubles, and the Kingdom is made more ready for greater ruines and confusions. Moreover do not you think, that whether the King have Children or not (if he be noble and generous) that he will prepare a party in his Kingdom to serve his affairs, on all occasions; & that whe­ther his Queen be kind, sweet, & debonaire in his society or not. More­over, how conceive you a Kingdom should be governed without ma­ny errours in the conduct, when he must necessarily have his parti­cular interest, besides the publique, which cannot but evene and happen on many occasions? for in order to the preservation of his creatures, he will have cause sometimes to dissimulate in many things, somteimes hee will be forced to recompence with rewards, those whose errours merit punishments, sometimes to punish them who deserve rather favours and rewards. These accidents will make him endeavour to imbezell the treasure of the State, and so make up Bankes for private uses, or to make a Warre if there be cause. And as for peace, it can never be so perfectly established in a Kingdome, but a King must ever politiquely suspect either an insurrection of a civill Warre at home, or an invasion from abroad. And do you (brave Stanley) but imagine in what a pittifull condition is a King, who is not prepared and provided for such contingences. Hee ceaseth not onely to be a King, but loses his honour and reputation, as not wor­thy to rule. And of all the waies whereby Crownes and Kingdomes are lost, as this is most far from remedy; So it is the most weake and farre from pitty. When a Prince (in a gallant resistance) loseth a pitch'd battail in the field; Fortune can force him to yeild, and make him to fly to some Asyle; if the Cities and Towns of his Kingdome doe revolt, and his subjects treacherously forsake him, he may without all dishonour seek for refuge, and search out for succour and supplies. And in his distresse, though the splendour of his glory be obscured, it is not extinguished; Though his Magnificence and power be abated, yet it is not dissolved, nor so annihilated, but that he may be en­couraged with hopes, and aided by his friends and Allies, and so make a just VVarre, if he can obtaine meanes. Those Princes from whom he implores succours, may more possibly contribute their sup­plies, either through the concernment of their own interests, or their generosity; and so though his misfortunes be great, yet his ruines are not absolutely desperate. But to acquit a Crown without more then one Combate, to lose a Throne without a stroak, is a misery as dis­honourable as insupportable, and such a degree of basenesse and low­nesse of spirit, as dwells not in my Soul. And what dishonours and disadvantages attend not a King of base, low and ignoble qualities? If he addresse to his neighbour Princes, they will hardly looke on him as a Soveraign, or renowned person: If he presume to desire the aide of Auxiliaries and Souldiers, they will not onely have pretences, but despise & scorn the Motion: if he continue in his Kingdome without Children, what support can he expect if one of his Children be King? [Page 107] how can he resolve and humble himself to give his Child obedi­ence? For suppose the Queen his Consort shall (at her death) or­daine by Testament, That her Husband whilst hee liveth, shall conserve, and exercise his Soveraigne power; with how many Nayles and Thornes will his Crown bee pierced; and how full of troubles his Reign; with what impatience will the Successour at­tend; and with what splendor and authority shall that Father rule, who swayes by the will of a dead Wife; and (at no lesse) then at the pleasure, or permission of a living Son? And if casually he shall pro­ceed to a second Marriage, with how many fancies and jealousies will his Son be agitated? and under this spetious pretence, to what strange designes will he with his creatures be transported? (Generous Stanley) to receive a Crown from the hands of an espoused Princesse, were to put on a resolution to wait on her onely to her Tomb, and then to leave the Throne when she leaves her life. And seeing that all Prin­cesses (who are Soveraigns) have not the same resolutions for their Husbands as Isabella had for her Ferdinando: And it was not but with most incomparable virtue, that that most rare Princesse parted with her power, yet all that she was able to doe, was but a participation; and notwithstanding her affection was so great, and her virtues so su­per excellent, yet where nothing could restrain her from a contestation with her Husband in her claims to her rights in the Kingdom of Leons, she did it (doubtlesse) with the greatest Modesty imaginable; yet with so great security to her ends, as the breath of Ambition could in­spire. For it is apparent thus in all their expeditions, issuing forth in the names of Ferdinando and Isabella; and their Subjects never spake of them but plurally, the Kings royall pleasure. A word insupportable, and not to be endured by so Princely a heart as I bear▪ Judge you then (I pray) if Isabella (whom History describes as a possessor of all vir­tues) could suppresse with the greatest difficultyes, and strip her de­sires of Soveraignty; how may it be expected then from a Princesse not so compleatly polished? What know I (if I become her Spouse) but she may look upon me with scorn, as she considers me a Subject to her Father and Brother? And who knows, but her elevated spirit may so use me as if I were her Subject? If I were now prisoner to the Duke of Britany, and Elizabeth were glorious on her Throne, and she had affections for me to redeem me out of Prison, and Crown me with her Royall favours, and put into my hands the Scepter, it may bee the closenesse of my prison might oblige me to desire liberty, and my sad condition encourage me to receive the Crown of England from her hands; but seeing she hath no more share in this Crown, but that I can with more right give it then accept it; and that it is the proper reward of mine own valour; I being now a Conquerour; and that E­lizabeth without me could not have enjoyed her liberty, much lesse have pretended to a Soveraignty: It is noblenesse in me rather to offer, then receive Royal Grace from the hands of Princesse Elizabeth; and this is all that I can possibly doe, whereby the House of Lancaster (had it not right to the Crown of England) hath for ever indeared, and obliged the House of York; and in this act the world must conclude me to have been as exactly, and scrupulously obedi­ent to the Princesse for morality and civility, as to the maximes of Policie. Yet I inherit these generous rules which have gallant and [Page 108] noble resolutions, and which love rather to expose the hazard and loss of all, then not to gain all, and rather march undauntedly, then not satisfie the ambition of my renown. Rights and pretences to Crowns ought to be resolute principles never to be abandoned, all other pretensions (in subordinate affairs) are admitted to their dispensations for change and alterations. But to Renown, Soveraignty, and the Right to a Crown, the resolutions ought to be so unchangeable, as not to be sha­ken; and to yeeld, is an indignity and basenesse fit for none of Prince­ly birth; but is a quality more sutable for the most infamous and con­temptible cowards. Now as to the third way; The title of the House of Lancaster, you will tell me (perhaps noble Stanley) this seems dange­rous and difficile, that the Peers and Nobles of the Kingdome have condemned the pretences and rights of the Family of Lancaster, and that the Title of York hath a more popular preference in the spirits of the people; that the Kings of latter Reigns have gained their inclina­tions; so that I may passe under the censure, not of a lawfull King, but an Usurper; such a suggestion may prove a provocation to the peo­ple, and so faction beget a War, and that may continue as long as I lived. To this I answer, as before; the Rules of Policy I now follow, are generous, and hardy; wherefore I must not be swayed by any con­sideration of perill; I must make my way through danger, and not suffer a diversion in so weighty a matter to my resolution. Think not, that I can easily perswade, nor prevail to turn the course of that Royall bloud which runneth in my veins, or to renounce so­lemnly those rights to that Crown which I have conquered, as I must (doubtlesse) if I should referre my selfe to the grace and bounty of Princesse Elizabeth, and should receive so Illustrious a Diademe from the hand of a woman: what reproach should I not receive from Po­sterity, if I should permit this spot to lye on the memory of my repu­tation? You will yet tell me, the right which I pretend hath been ex­ploded, and condemned solemnly in Parliament. I answer; this con­demnation savoured of as much misfortune as injustice; Great thieves, and great power robbed us of our royall right: And suppose their condem­nation were just and equitable, the Rights of Conquerours are as equally Authentique; who if they have force, can justly cancell, and dissolve to no­thing all former edicts and sentences of condemnation. Hee hath fought in vain who hath vanquished a Tyrant, and been a Liberator to the people from Tyranny, if he have not as equally freed himself from all oppression, and can thereby maintaine his power to enjoy what he hath got. As for me, if I should not ascend a Throne but in the right of Elizabeth, I should onely beleeve that I have changed my pri­son, and but gilded my chains: I can confesse no lesse out of my inter­nall repugnancy to this dependant authority. Beleeve me then in the Acceptance of the Crown of England, I shall receive it either as Con­querour, or as my right descending of the house of Lancaster, and not from the hands of Elizabeth; and if I admit her to the Throne, I shall place her on my right hand, as Alexander did Darius's Queen; and yet not then, until I shall have the peaceable possession of the Crown with­out the interruption of any of her pretences. Yet, in this resolution, I shall endeavour to spare the blood of my Subjects, for which I have reasons; for my Forefathers have been their Kings; and if the last Prince of that Illustrious House of Lancaster had not been too mild and gentle, [Page 109] and so more unfit to beare up the weight of so great a Scepter, I should not now lye in necessity to search for reasons to palliate and authorize my present designes. But seeing what is past cannot be recalled, that which is present must regulate that which is to come. I shall ascend then by the successive way, wherein though there may be more of danger, there may be lesse of injury. In this great action it is just that I forget not the peoples interest as well as mine owne, my Conquest shall serve me as to this end the more firmly to authorize the right of my Birth and descent. And as I am not ignorant how that the house of Yorke hath prevailed with the whole Kingdome to an universall approbation of their title, and caus­ed the Reignes of those Princes to be more peacefull while they ruled, more then their wisdome or policy could have prevailed: I intend no sooner to receive the Crowne, but speedily to incircle Princesse Eli­zabeth with me within the Line of that Royall Circumference. But still with this reserve and difference, that she shall receive that illus­trious honour from my hands, and not I from hers. Wherefore I shall take order that there shall be an interval & space of time, betwixt my Coronation & my espousals, that no person in my Kingdom may be ignorant with what right I ascend my Throne. In the meane time the people that dive not so deeply into the secrecies & mysteries of State, & are more easily satisfied with spetious pretences then solid reason; will more readily honour and applaud our actions, and lesse torment themselves with murmurings or discontents; those who have affections and in­clinations to the house of Lancaster will rejoyce exceedingly at my ad­vancement to the Crowne; and those who still reserve their affections for the house of Yorke cannot be better satisfied then to see the Lawfull heire of that house to sit on the Throne with me; and if it should so chance that a civill Warre should rise, by any who should suggest that the Duke of Clarence was not dead, and that he had more right to the Crowne then the Princesse Elizabeth; I shall have this power to oppose such falss impostures, and this triple and different right to de­fend my Crowne; and if I owne it as Conqueror, as heire of the house of Lancaster, and unite the title of that of Yorke, what power will be able to give a check to our Princely Resolutions. All the waies which policy can invent to acquire and compasse great en­terprizes, are either by open and hostile forces, or by secret and sub­till craft, or with plausible pretences to delude the people, or with reason and Arguments to perswade the Sages and Grandies of a King­dome, these are the ordinary engines of Policy. The first is most abso­lute and least resisted, the second is perswasive, and effects what seemes almost impossible, the third disarmes the multitude, and the last rais­eth divisions and makes parties among great ones, and prepares a disposition to hope for a victory of the Enemy: And fortune is so kinde to us to concenter all these foure advantages to my designe. First as to force; I beleeve one cannot be more assured then having gained a Battle and defeated the enemy; and seeing the Tyrant him­selfe could not longer support his usurpation, who (thinke you) dare be so bold as to designe to be an usurper? To force I can joyn subtilty and craft, and what could there be better, then to intermingle so neerly, and yet to distinguish my right & title before I did marry my right to that of Elizabeths, so to make my Authority as indivisible as [Page 110] independent by a deferring of my intentions for her espousalls, untill my affaires perswade me: And to this subtilty no pretences are want­ing which may gain popular compliance and approbation; the Peo­ple in this now fully satisfied, that I act not meerly as Conqueror, nor take from any what appertaines to them; In this proceeding they will not onely be pleas'd, but seeme to enjoy their chiefest desire. To these if stronger reasons be required, what can better remove all scruple from the greatest Statesmen or Grandies of the King­dome (too inclinable for factions, especially in high Royall diffe­rences) then to see the union of the two howses of Lancaster and York? and thereby an extinction (by this alliance) of those antient Quarrells which did descend with Ages, and might have lasted to a generall divastation of the Kingdome. Besides all those considerati­ons, I find (moreover) all the vertues satisfied by this harmonious conclusion; Generosity appeareth in my moderation, being so well tempered after so great a Victory: for seeing that after the Conquest of a Crown, I am so deliberate, it is an infallible marke that Pride and Presumption have not elevated me above my selfe: my Bounty and good­nesse, whereby I would preserve the people and Kingdome from the possibility of a Civill Warre, render me more reasonable, as being carefull of their good equally, as of my own. The Justice which I impartially intend to all, beginneth with Princesse Elizabeth, born so near the Throne, and renders my Heroick mind so famous, as meriting to be approved by all the World: The boldnesse whereby I have vindicated the title of all my Ancestors to the Crown of England, will speak me honourable in the eares of generous persons, and that I shall be renowned by all those who have a haughty inclination to true Magnanimity. In effect, A desire to Reign and be a King, is a thing of it self so high and noble, that I believe there was never yet any Heroick spirit who was not surprized and inflamed (above all ordinary degrees) with de­sire of soveraignty; yea (I am fully perswaded) that one borne from a Royal Throne, though his birth be distant and in a great remotion, yet it is impossible, but his dependencie (as a branch on that Royall stock) is reputed as the most soveraign glory and comfort of all his life, and I believe persons of Princely descent, the more they are oppressed, the more the Royall Character is imprinted in their spirits: and the more they are forced to resent of servi­tude, by so much the more they desire and thirst after domination and Sove­raignty: And if the power of command be a naturall and universall af­fection in all men, how supream must their desires be, whose birth and education is so sublime? their thoughts cannot but be indepen­dant (if possible to others) and their wills would be legislative. Think not then strangly of me (brave Stanley) if intending my possession of the Crown of England, I chiefly preferre mine owne right, without Admission of a partage, or the least shadow of con­testation for the title: Fortune honours me with it, as her present, yet I shall not accept it but as a fruite, growing on the stock of my An­cestors, and that my birth hath now received its right. Assist me then (I conjure thy fidelity) to fortifie my reasons in a better resistance (if there shall be cause) of opposition: tell thy friends and my subjects, that I ascend the Throne, as their lawfull Soveraign, and that I shall have more affection and tendernesse for them, as being mine owne people, then as if they were Elizabeths; let the great ones know ef­fectively, [Page 111] that I am their absolute master, and therefore have greater power, as to receive, so to expect their services: let my Souldiers know that I their King, am their Generall, and therefore, as I shall lead, they cannot but march with greater courage, and that their ad­vantage is so much the more considerable, as not to be exposed to a Battail, but for such a Royall person, who will adventure with them, and bear them company in their Noble Actions. And let the Princesse know that if I take the Crown, which her Fathers have born, my An­cestors have worn it as well as they; and in this quality her Grace may confesse that I merit more gloriously to be her husband, and to let her see, that without Scepter or Crown, she is as dear and pretious to me. To conclude (gallant Stanley) proclaime to all the world (though I would claim the Crown as Conqueror) I have forborn it, though I might have accepted a Crown from the hands of a Princesse, I refused it, and that I have rather chosen to hazard the Throne which I have Conquered, then not to possess it as a legitimate Prince, and the issue and Heir of the Royall house of Lancaster.

The Censure.

THis Prince is in the Records and Annalls of the Kings of England ac­counted and honoured as one of the most famous and wisest Polititians as e­ver sate on that Throne. This is the observation of the Lord Chancellor Bacon; and as he elevated himself to the Royall Soveraignty, so hee established it (in all humane Conjecture) with greatest honour and security to himself and successors; Though he might have ascended highly by the effects of his Conquests (which usually are not moderated to any bounds) yet at that time, Fortune (if ever) making her self a slave to her favourite, he waveth that interest as his principal support; And though the title of this Princesse Elizabeth might procure him popular applauses, and approbations; yet his reasons seem too strong to be sub­jected to that sp [...]cious dependant subordination: which quality though it may agree with the Genius of a Subject, yet cannot be compatible & tolerable in the digestion of a victorious Conqueror. Where a Queen hath the soveraign right, and the King a title onely by marriage, it is not he, but she that ruleth. Now if a Crown be not establish't, it hath not it's perfect beauty: if a Scepter be divided, it is no longer a Scepter: if two sit on a Throne, it looseth its form, and is no longer a Throne. The Electors of the Empire, and those of Polony, entrench too deeply on the authority of their Masters: if a Prince see any interposition betwixt him and God, he cannot stile himself Absolute: and if he have not Right to say, it is our will and pleasure, and declare (without farther Reason) and say, stat pro ratione voluntas; he carries but the shadow of a Soveraignty, he may wear the Crown, but others exercise the Royall Office. Now if this kind of Government be not so noble, then to hold a Crown by the Right or favour of a wife is neither so safe nor so honourable. The Electors are stiled subjects, and all Commissions and Edicts are signed in the Princes name, but it is not so where the wife is supream. The Sun which divideth the radiant beames to the u­niverse in his course, comprehendeth all splendent lustre in his own glorious body, and when that is set, no brightnesse at all appears, but what is (in its absence) communicated to some lesser Starrs to preserve the World from utter darknesse and obscurity. Thus, this wise Prince did judge of Soveraignty, which [Page 112] though it communicate glorious raies, yet they are Originally united in one il­lustrious body, and those lesser lights, which as the Moon and Starrs radiate with more Glimmering and Dusky Brightnesse, they have no native, but mutuati­ons and borrowed light. A quality utterly inconsistent with a generous and re­nowned Soul, and which agrees not with the Nature of Soveraignty. If this Prince had held his Crown by the title of Elizabeth, he must have depended on the will and pleasure of his Wife; and never been able to sway and command ab­solutely. It is our will and pleasure. As the Crown of England was an ab­solute Monarchy, so it had now a King who scorn'd to lose the least circumstance or Punctilio that might grace the splendor and brightnesse of Majesty. And as for the Complication and Acts of Grace to gratifie his people, he rather admit­ted and used such pleasant Popular baits, out of Policy and deeper designe to prevent all stormes, or to calme them if they should rise, then to diminish or extenuate the Grandure of Majesty. Those condescentions (Kings know well) are great Artifices of their own making, which when the fish is caught they understand, & know how to unrovel & break the nets to their own advantage. The Scripture teacheth that the woman is to be subject to the man, and not the man to the woman. Had not this divine rule given liberty and dispensation to this Princes action and choice, Policy (a more liberall, and free dispencer of her counsels) would not stick at the discouragement of such Resolutions which en­deavour to grasp at supreame Authority. The example of Ferdinando and Isabella demonstrate that Masculine Noblenesse subjected to Feminine fancies, and their mutable pleasures is neither so satisfactory, so honourable, nor so safe. And that other example of Philip the second, who married Mary Queen of England, manifesteth, that such a conjunction with an expectation of Soveraign­ties as concomitant, proveth but a more fine Golden chaine to bind faster (at pleasure) Royall ambition; for so was that Prince deluded and abused in his ex­pectation, who instead of Soveraign commands had onely the honour of a Title, joyned in Commissions and Coyns, but had not the power to exercise the Royal office. It is apparent then, a Scepter is onely fit for one, and not two hands, and that a Crown (being circular inform) is only proper for one Soveraign head. The two famous Queens of Naples have taught all the world the dangers of pretend­ing to hold Crowns by Female rights: And this Prince was a person too sage and prudent to expose his Royall advantages to such casuall alterations, having made so noble a Conquest, he holdeth still fast his sword in his hand, and espouseth E­lizabeth with all her rights and possibilities, and wisely chooseth and declareth none but his own title, keeping those others as great Souldiers doe their Reserves at distance, rather to terrifie, then to fight, unlesse there be great occasion. In this action this King, whatever he pretended of Grace to Elizabeth, and so to be a great Moralist, herein hath left to the world this testimony; That he was acquainted with the deepest and most profound wayes of Policy; and therefore did more prudently make his election, and so pitch his resolution, rather to reigne by his own, then the pretence or right of any other. Now if from an action of such famous valour and prudence, we alter our discourse to another as eminent for fidelity; here is an example in the person of an Infidell Prince, which is most remarkable. Soliman the second (that Prince who was the glory of the Ottoman Family) promised to John, King of Hungary, to establish his Empire, to which purpose Soliman was earnest, constant, and faithfull to his resolution: But the Warre being somewhat unfortunate, or lesse succesfull, and having lost the lives of an hundred thousand men, the Bassawes, and Turkish Comman­ders would have interrupted, and prevented the said Kings investment, and Inauguration unto the Kingdom of Hungary, though Soliman had made his [Page] [Page 113] royall promise: But see here Solimans discourse and reasons which caused that generous Monarch to keep his faith and resolution, and to crown gloriously John in the famous Town of Bude.

SOLYMAN the most Magnificent Emperour of the Turkes. He wan the Ile Rhodes and divers Ilands in the Mediterranean sea, overan Hungary, conquerd Babilon and the Countreyes of Mesopotamia: Tooke Strigonium, and won Alba Regalis, and at the seidge of Sigeth died, in Anno: 1567.


SOLIMAN TO RVSTAN BASSA.

THE Counsell which you give me might have been approved by Mahomet the second, but not by Soli­man; that Prince who kept not his word with the Emperour David Comineus, and his Children, who caused the death of Prince Bosnie, and Methelin, contrary to his promises; pursued those Maximes which agree not with Soliman. 'Tis true, he was cer­tainly a great Conquerour, and the twelve Kingdomes which he subdu­ed, and thereby united the two Empires, merit much to his honour, and free his actions from being censured with too much rigour and severity; and by what means he reigned so puissantly. And as to my own particular (because I enjoyed his Conquests) it may less become me to insult over his errors, or to rail at his proceedings against the rules of exact Justice; yet seeing truth and fidelity to my word and un­spotted honour are the marks I chiefly aim at, I shall not judge it irra­tional nor injust to say that Mahomets forfeiting of his word and pro­mise hath stained the beauty of his Reputation, & if he had been more sacred in observation of his word and promise with his enemies, he had not gained less true glory then his conquests have rendred to his name. I am not ignorant that Mahomet hath not been the sole example of my Predecessors, who have falsified their Faith without the least scruple, and that many Polititians yeeld and perswade, that it is lawful to deceive those whom they can delude, and that fraud and fowrbs are commendable and innocent instruments; and as for sincerity, it is not laudable, much less necessary, but when advantageous and convenient. The Christians (as well as the Turks) (who seem to be obliged by the bonds of Religion, and upon pains of hell) permit these rules and maxims amongst them very ordinarily, and have not kept their pub­lique Faith inviolable, to compass and effect their particular aims and designs; and yet some of the Ottoman Princes have been most exact and strict in keeping of their word. Thus the magnificent Selim (of famous memory) though naturally haughty and ambitious, was most punctual in his Conditions and Articles with the Citizens of Damascus, who sur­rendring their Town, he saved their lives, and preserved their goods from pillage and plunder; nay he was so exact to every circumstance, that although his numerous forces had incamped, and lay round about that vast Town, wherein the prey and wealth was infinite, and might have largely inriched the whole army, yet Selim permitted not any one souldier to commit the least insolence, nor so much as to gather a hand­ful of fruit or herbs out of the stately and luxuriant Gardens which [Page 114] lay round about the walls. And doest thou know (Rustan) what ad­vantage succeeded this exact curiosity of his fidelity and Paroll? The inhabitants of Damascus gave more by a peaceable surrender, and the Emperour received more then he and his Army could have gotten, if they had pillaged the Town; for by this example of the Emperours ex­act law of his word, the towns of Barute, of Sidon, of Tripoly, of Ptolo­mais, and (speedily after) those of Syria submitted, and surrendred on the faith and credit of the Emperours word; by this meanes a great hardship of War, and an expensive, and vast charge was saved, and the lives of many thousands preserved from death. But you may tell me (Rustan) the chiefe meanes to inlarge Territoryes, or to confirme, or assure Conquests, to destroy Enemies, to invade Townes, to subdue Provinces, and Kingdomes, is it not by con­joyning fraud and deceit with force and Armes? and by pretend­ing faith, but not intending to keep it? are not Townes surrendred, the Gates of Castles and Forts opened to spetious and smooth delu­sions? Whereby great and potent Adversaries have committed themselves (in person) to their Enemies? what need we search far­ther then into the Histories of the first founders of the Ottoman fami­ly, as well as into the life of the valiant Orchan, who succeeded them; we shall find that if they had not as well used artificiall delusions, fraud and falshood; they had not so frequently surprized Townes, subdued Provinces, nor Conquered Kingdoms, nor laid such strong foundations to that Empire, which I now possesse, and which appears in its present condition to foretell her happy fruition of her victories to as great glory and duration as the Romans extended theirs. Do you not then think that too strict and punctual observation to your faith, & word, may be an obstacle to your agrandizing and future establish­ment of your Empire? To all these I answer, I am of the contrary opi­nion, as believing that an honourable Regard of ones word, and a conservation of his faith solemnly and publiquely given, is the best way and meanes to begin, to inlarge, or to establish a Soveraignty. When I call to mind then, and examine my faith and promise made to King John, and my Ingagement to use my best indeavours to esta­blish him in his Throne, Judge you if I be not obliged to keep my word inviolable: For which all Mortalls are strictly bound if they re­solve not to forget humanity and honour, and true renown. And if so severe a tye be morally imprinted on the Soules of all men, how particularly are Princes, who are in degrees of honour, as far transcen­dent to their subjects, as the lesser Starrs are inferiour to the lustre of the Sun. For in the observation of their Royall Parole, the Peoples happinesse, and the Soveraignes glory chiefly consisteth. To confirme this argument, and so to know more exactly the sacrednesse of promi­ses; you may consider that the Religions of all kind which ever were or shall be, have never restrained, nor ever shall oblige the people, but by this way. Heaven it selfe is witnesse by the constancy of her mo­tions to what I say. In effect, what disorder and confusion would succeed to any estate, if men shall declare to make open profession, that they did not regard what they did say, or promise? what would be the disorder, and how irregular the society in every particular par­ty? what inconveniency and a generall disturbance to all commerce? and what union and agreement can be expected or hoped for amongst [Page 115] the people, which is the very foundation, and frameth a Solidity to the station, and continuance of Empires? It is through faith in pro­mises that amity and friendship are preserved, that all Artizans and labourers work with so much curiosity and paines: this causeth the Marriners to imbarque, and so boldly to adventure their lives at Sea, incourageth the Souldiers to be so hardy and valiant in the Warrs: And without this, it would be impossible to govern either in peace or War. So then the keeping of faith inviolate, conduceth much to the rule and government of all the universe, and is as necessary to hu­mane society, as a foundation is to a stately and magnificent struct­ure. Without this incomparable bond, all society would be dissolved into confusion, lawes be despised and scorned, Fathers would not have any Reverence from their Children, nor Children any kindness from their Parents, friends would grow perfidious, Commanders would trample on their Souldiers, and they as insolently injure or forsake their Commanders, Subjects would have no assurance in their Princes, nor Princes any respect or honour from their Subjects. You see then (Rustan) that a constant observation to ones faith and parole, is not only honourable but necessary; and without which it were im­possible but to go into most irreparable misfortunes. Moreover this quality is the more noble, because no creature is capable to effectuate in this kind but onely rational, and the incomparable creature man; as for other qualities they may be Acquired by Habits, or possessed by Temperaments and natural Instincts, as appears in the very Bruits. We find fidelity in Dogs, love in the Turtles, violent inclinations of tendernes in the Male and Female creatures towards their young ones; the Lions have their generosity and boldness, the Serpents their prudence, the Elephant their wit and memory, and the little Ants their providence in their Oeconomie; but as for the observation of faith and promises, those are actions onely belonging to Man, by which he becometh Ma­ster of anothers will, as well as of his own, so that in these occasions it may bee well said, that there is a necessity as indispenceable to keep ones word, as to obey a Law before a promise made; this caution is e­ver to be used, that no man exceed the reall and absolute limits of his own power, not to ingage his faith in any thing evill in it self, or injurious to another. These limitations first proposed, faith is obligatory, and binding, and no retractation to be admitted, which in it self cannot be less then base and dishonourable. These considerations concerne persons of all de­grees; and as for Kings, they are not free from the obligation of their Parole more then the meanest of their Subjects: For if they make a promise to their equals, and fail in it, their equals may force and compel them to a per­formance; and if to their Inferiours, justice and honour obliges them to be exact to their own will and pleasure, which once ingaged is not longer free, but hath a tye and obligation on it, which they have impo­sed and framed to themselves. There cannot be then (with justice and honor) a failing in Faith, nor any fair evasion; the very possibility which Princes have in their own power not to oblige themselves to any pro­mise, foretels their facility to observation, which they cannot (but a­gainst their own reason) disanul and dispence withall. Nay if a Prince shall condescend to a resolution and solemn promise, to depose his Crown, I cannot but judge it more glorious for him to keep his word, then to hold his Scepter. Fundamentall Laws (though in themselves [Page 116] sacred and inviolable) yet ought not to be in so great a veneration with a Prince as observation to his own word: For it may so arrive in the re­volution of Ages, that Policy may permit and perswade to change, and alter those first ordinances, which have founded and supported a Mo­narchy; but as for the word of a King, it ought to be inchangeable; o­therwise, levity, and falshood will so spot his reputation, that he will hardly ever obliterate the stain of Infamy; and what fidelity, or loy­alty can be expected from Subjects to be paid to him, who is not noble and faithfull to himself? If you object (Rustan) that the King is lesse obliged because he is so transcendent above them. I answer; a Prince is free before he pleaseth to promise; but if he shall fail afterwards to gratifie his humour, or ambition, or to give way to his own passions, he will provoke not only his peoples hatred, but (if possible) their re­venge; whom though they do not command, do expect that he should obey the dictates of his own will; and if this intercourse should faile, how should the Prince confide in his people, or they in him? If I should design a noble recompence to my Bashaws and Janizaries, in case they should effect some noble and grand enterprise, might I not give a dan­gerous check to my commands and power, if I should start from my word, and so they fail in their reward? If I were engaged with mine Army before a Town, and resolved to subdue it, and encouraged my Souldiers to storm and take it, and gave them promise of the prey, and pillage, and then did not prove noble and faithfull, and did not recom­pence them, having adventured their lives in the assault, and breach with such violence and mettle to get the Victory; might not such infi­delity not onely lose mine honour, but provoke a mutiny, and hazard the losse of mine own Army? Again, if the Inhabitants of a Town should agree voluntarily to submit, without other conditions, but the saving of their lives, and after I had received the Keyes of their Ports, & the Gates were open, then I should suffer them to fall by the Edge of the sword; would not such an Act obscure the honour of a so­veraign Prince? and force the remainder and survivant party to fight & dispute to the last drop of their bloods? and might not such unwor­thinesse cause mine owne Souldiers to turn Cowards, or to make them turn their swords against their own Prince? would not such Actions as these increase the valour of the Enemy, cause them to redouble their Guards, and inspire them with new designes, to deceive with falshood him whom they could neither subdue nor believe? were not such a Prince indangered to be censured as the firebrand of his Age, and as well born to be the Enemie of his neighbours, and the odium of his own subjects, as well as of his Enemies? and as for Princes, if they as well consider their interest as their honour, they are not one­ly obliged for their advantage, to whom they have promised, but likewise for their own ends: And it is a great dispute, whether it be of greater importance to keep faith with friends or enemies; and the most subtle Polititians do conclude, that in a case of absolute necessi­ty, a breach with friends is more tolerable then with enemies, whose eyes are most acute and exact, to observe every scruple of conditions or Arti­cles covenanted to them: For when our Allyes, our friends, and our subjects do affie in us, they do no more then their duties and de­voires; of which if they failed their neglect were injury, and conse­quently their trust in us augmenteth our glory, and equitably obli­geth [Page 117] us to keep our faith with them: but when it arriveth that our professed Enemies place their assurance in our parole, this is an in­fallible mark of that estimation which they have of our vertue not of our power: And this conception worketh for our glory, and testifieth so much for our generosity, that (I dare boldly say) if it be injustice and basenesse to forfeit one's parole to his friend: It is an act of more horrid igno­blenesse mixt with perfideousnesse and impudency, not to keep faith with an Enemy. I cannot then with my honour let this opportunity escape, which fortune now presenteth, but I must observe that which I have promised to this distressed Prince; to him (I say) who hath not for­gotten, what ruine and ravages our armies have committed in his Kingdom. He it is who confideth in us, and hath chosen him who was the greatest Enemy to this Kingdome to be the Protector of his Crown. We cannot delude his hopes (Rustan) nor with any honour recede from our promise. I know well that some rules of Policy oppose my design. If I should make use of them, and if I should permit an inter­ruption, many considerations will arise, and you may tell me (first) that John engaged me to this Warre, and that the fates, which go verns all things, have produced sad and black effects to both parties, since I have taken the Fortes of Bude and those of Altemberg, that other of Komar [...], of Wissegrade, and all other along the Danube: My Army have pillaged all Syria, and made an infinite number of slaves, and have so terrified the Emperor Ferdinando, that he durst not presume, with his Army once to face my force; & after all these successes I am at last try­umphant in the Towne of Bude, ready to invest and re-enthrone John King of Hungary; and if that siege of Vienna, and the extremity of the winter have caused me to lose an hundred thousand men, I might seem to complain rather of this Prince then to render to him his King­dome, and honour him with his Crown. This may agree best with your sence: but it is true, I cannot submit to your Judgement. If in­stead of one, I had lost two hundred thousand men, I should not have desisted from my intentions, out of meer consideration to my faith and promise. I never suffered my profit and advantage to be competitors, or comparative with my glory and renown. And when I shall faile to be a strict observer of my faith, I cannot judge my self worthy of respect or honour. Of all the waies of Conquest these are most sure, which are effected with least violence. In making a King my Tributary and Vassall, I create a more illustrious slave to be as faithful and obedient, as if imprisoned with fettered Chaines: The recognition of distresses relieved, oblige a Prince more powerfully then the strict­est servitude: And those Tributes which are paid to a King by a voluntary con­tribution, do more inrich his treasure, then those which are exacted. For you cannot be ignorant how that in a Country newly Conquered, Garri­sons are to be established in the principall Forts and Townes; besides, it is to be provided that an Army be ready to march, on all occasions, to be ready to oppose all resistance that may arise, and yet this care and providence is to be exercised, to see that the people be not ut­terly destroyed as well as subdued from the power of Revolts: Poli­cy teaching that they have not too much liberty, least they grow in­solent, nor too severe a servitude, least they grow desperate; a mixture of gentlenesse with rigour is necessary in lawfull Royalty, but more ab­solutely inseparable from the foundation of new Conquests. Moreover, in the [Page 118] establishment of a Tributarie Prince, more sweetnesse and indulgence is tolerable, because he is substituted to all care, charge and paines, and such a Conquest is as well without inquietude as danger. If I had intended otherwise, I must have fought many battailes, besieged ma­ny Towns, and (besides a hazard not to have obtained what I now en­joy) I might have lost honour and reputation. Moreover my viola­tion of faith with this Prince, might have united and provoked other Princes to levy forces, and march unanimously against me: And what Grace or honour might that Emperor expect, but rather a generall detestation from all, who deserved to be branded with ignominy and reproach, for being perfidious and false? will not both Princes and Subjects act to save their lives, to defend their Country, preserve their liberties, and revenge their Prince from a faithlesse and perfidi­ous person? But you will tell me (Rustan) after so many battailes, and so many signall Advantages, what need I fear, and what might I not hope for? No, no, Fortune is too mutable a Lady to be confided in: We are not to abuse her favours, nor scorne her liberality, nor to depend on the Constan­cy of her graces, who is so changable at her pleasure. She who hath given us all these Victories, hath power to deprive us of them, and as oft as I think, what great obstacles stood in the way, to oppose the mighty successe of valiant Scanderbeg, and Mahomet, and many of my An­cestors; I cannot prudently be over confident in my own Armies, my Enemies weaknesse, nor my own valour. For it is possible, that the great­est Conquerors may be vanquished, and consequently, nothing is to be ha­zarded highly. The fortunes which attended Amurath and Bajazet, may also waite on me, and another Castriot or Tamerlaines may arise to prevail over me. Let us not then abuse our Enemies in the forfei­ting of faith, nor thereby occasion all the world to oppose and hate us, which they may do without injustice, and then the fates produce strange and wonderfull effects. Marcellus stopped the Progresse of Hannibal, when he was highly ingaged; Camillus preserved his Coun­try, when it was feared he would have destroyed it. Besides all these reasons, the Senate and Republique of Rome affords us examples of admit­ting Kings to be Tributaries, Slaves, and Vassalls. And if true Re­nown be so exceedingly glorious in the subjection of the Common People; how superexcellent, and most illustrious is a command over Kings and Princes? Thus Antonius marcht with two and twenty Princes, (as his Royall attendance) into Alexandria. This infallible ensigne of honour declares to all the world, that the Romans made not al­waies their Enemies their Slaves, but gave them liberty to weare their Crownes, to make their Royall Equipage more glorious. It is one of the greatest secrets of Policy, so to temper and manage affaires, as to make our ene­mies serviceable to us. And no advantage can be higher, then to make them fight for us, who fought against us. And as for this Kingdome of Hungary, which is now divided by the Factions of John and Ferdinando, it would be (doubtlesse) united against me, if I should be perfidious to that party, which I am ingaged to: And so that whole Country become mine enemies, which (on these terms) are reduced to be my vassals: By this action I shall either augment my Soveraignty; or, if the division continues, more infeeble the adverse party. Princes ought deeply to consider before they engage their faith; but if they value their honour, they are obliged to perform their promise, though it succeed [Page 119] with the greatest loss. This obligation bindeth more essentially; because it is a vow not made to Subjects, but to a Prince by one in distresse; he who renders himself my Vassal, and hath trusted to my word for the safety of his person. And should my falshood make my advantage in a Princes necessity, who relies on my fidelity, and flies to me for succour? When the Emperour Ferdinando (who is an enemy formidable enough) desired my Alliance, I publickly both refused and scorned his Amity: And it had not become me now to have admitted this Prince to the secresie of my promise and resolutions, if I had not first exactly exami­ned how far I might condescend and adventure for his protection. No, no (Rustan) I should rather choose to lose my life, then to forefeite my Parole, which I shall preserve so inviolable, that I shall Crown King John with mine own hands, that all posterity may learn from me that it is a necessary obligation (equally concerning the peoples good, as well as the Princes glory) to keep and guard their promises, without any fraud or violation. It is by this indivisible chain that the universall society of Mankind subsisteth in that union which inableth so many divers Nations to treat and commerce so unanimously in their affairs. This is that sacred bond which causeth voluntarily the arms of so ma­ny thousands (though enemies) peacefully to be laid down. This is that solemn assurance which perswadeth and secureth peace after bloody Wars. If men should not have a regard and observation to their Par­roll, Iustice, which is the foundation of all virtues, would find no place for her feet to stand in all the world; and if shee failed, all other virtues would lose their grace and beauty; Justice it self would lose her denomina­tion, and be stiled rigour, or severity; Clemencie would be reputed too much indulgent levity. Liberality would be censured prodigali­ty; and Valour (if not succesfull) would be accounted rashnesse, or too much confidence. And it is true, though virtues consist in moderation, yet when the action is not seasonable, they seem to wear the habits of vice. But as for fidelity to ones Paroll, it admits of no various explications, but ought to be exactly observed, at all times, in all places, and with all persons; and as to mine own resolutions (being a Soveraign Prince) I shall not be false, but faithfull to all, whether Kings or Shepheards; nor faile in that (which seems most difficult) to keep my Parole with mine Enemy. This Law is properly mine own, because voluntary; therefore to be obeyed without all repugnancie. It is in this resoluti­on wherein my reason is so mightily convinced, that I reverence the sanctity of publick Faith; to violate which becomes not men, much lesse Kings. And as for my selfe, to bee false to my Faith I am in­capable.

The Censure.

SEe here the noble and generous resolutions of a Prince (who reverencing the Alcoran, and onely adoring the lies and fictions of Mahomet) appeares a very gallant and illustrious soul, exceeding many Christian Princes for his fi­delity to his Parole and promise. Divinity gives us leave to acknowledge, that those high degrees of honour and felicity, which accompanyed this great Prince, were as a temporall recompence wherewith God was pleased to requite him, and [Page 120] so make more renowned his Morall virtues. Oh that this Emperour (though a Turk) had been alive to shame that dangerous Politian, who (though a Chri­stian) had the impudence to write and publish to the world; That wise Prin­ces ought not to observe their promises but when they tend to their utility and advantages. Who would beleeve that one who wears a Turban, should be more morall then he who bears a Christian Crown? The same Author saies; If all men were honest, that precept were not necessary; but because many are false and wicked, it is therefore more tolerable, and for that reason, that they regard not their Faith, Princes are not ob­liged to theirs; who can never want specious pretences for their fail­ings. This Position is as wicked as that other; and his warrant (though from the Scripture) is not Logicall; it is true, David saith, all men are lyars; but the Politician cannot conclude thence a dispensation for fraud and infidelity; one man judgeth of another by his words or actions, but God alone judgeth of the hearts. The Counsell of dissimulation, if it be consistent with Policie, agrees not at all with Theological truth: And is not the being (as well as the appearing) to be honest and just, requisi [...]e and necessary in a Prince? Or have the Reigns of all good and virtuous Princes been miserable and unfortu­na [...]e? Or is there no other means to prevent miseries and ill, but by the practice of a lesson (in it self) so damnable? Is there no other way to uphold Crowns, and Monarchies but by such black, and damnable Maximes of State? A­nother rule follows as dangerous, (as those which went before) which is, that it is not necessary for Princes really to be what they seeme, nor to keep Faith in any thing, but what serves their turne. Oh what horrour these Principles contain in them? Let this dangerous Florentine poison the World as far as he can with his infectious Principles; yet I dare to say, his Max­imes are as empty and void of reason as Religion. Fidelity is essentiall to any il­lustrious Prince, without which, he can neither raigne happily nor gloriously: and 'tis certain, frequent dissimulations, and infidelity in Princes to their Paroles, make suddain troubles, or admit but of short raignes; Therfore they ought to be kept inviolable and with more sacred reverence, though com­pacted with the greatest Enemies. For Princes are at liberty, before they promise, but once engaged, ought to be subservient to their dictates, and desires of their own wills: And who ever faileth to keep his faith, looseth his ho­nour and common honesty. And a being not obliged by the rules of Religion, giveth a Check to all Rights, both humane and divine. But I see a great Champion, and an illustrious Commander contradicting this proposition, and urgeth that no rule is so generall, but admitteth of some excep­tion. Great Scanderbeg gained so famous a reputation in the World, that he merits not to be condemned before his reasons be heard, and his noble Actions rightly considered. John Castriot his Father being dead, and his Children be­ing hostages in the hands of Amurath the Turkish Emperor; this Barbarous Prince imprisoned them, thereby the better to secure the Kingdom of Albania to himselfe. Now as the rare valour of George Castriot, (whom the Turkes called Scanderbeg) was infinitely necessary, he omitted not the least occasion, which might advantage his particular interest, and therefore feigned a willing­nesse and resolution to surrender the Kingdom to Amurath, with privy designe more exactly to sound and bottome his intentions: And (at length) meeting with a fit opportunity, when the Turks gave battaile to the Christians, hee quitted the Turkish Armies, and faceing about charged fiercely with the Christians against the Turks, and having given them many desperate over­throwes, he recovered his estate (at last) and the Throne of his Father. Amu­rath [Page] [Page 122] inraged with Choler and despatched one of his Janizaries (Chaoux) to reproach Great Scanderbeg, for his falsenesse to his Parole and promise, and to charge him with his infidelity: See here this famous Commanders Apolo­gie, and reasons to justifie his actions to all the World: And that it is not disho­norable nor inglorious, to break promise with those who keep not Faith, but are perfideous.

GEORGE CASTRIOT, otherwise called Scanderbeg Prince of Epirus, Scourge of the Turkes. He slew Fera Bassa with his owne hand, Cheife Com̄ander of Amuraths army, Overran the countrey of Madedonia, Overthrew ye Turks army consisting of 40000, still remayning victor in many battells by his valour and pollicie


SCANDERBEG TO HIS COVNCEL OF OFFICERS AND COMMANDERS.

THE Embassador of Amurath (having reproached me in the behalf of the Emperor his Master) hath dared to charge my reputation, with the ugly crimes of Perfidiousnesse, and Treasons: which scan­dalls and accusations my Soule scornes and ab­horrs; If all men in the World should not be as equally guilty of those errois, as my self; And seeing Alexander the Great loved not glory it selfe, but with scrupulous Curiosity, and he bravely affirmed, that he in­wardly abhorred, to steal a Victory, by surprising it in obscurity or the night: I presume I may be admitted to conclude, that I hate the thoughts, to have stolne that glory away, which I possesse, had I not acquired it by noble and illustrious meanes. Be you then my Judges in this point, (although my Officers and Subjects) examine my acti­ons with the greatest rigour, that the severity of Justice, or the brightnesse of true generosity can exact or require, and be not parti­all (for so I conjure you) whether or no, those may forfeit the glory of their valour and faith justly, who have been provoked by actions of infidelity from others? and whether this reciprocal retaliation, may not be honourably supported and grounded on the Basis and Foun­dation of reason. I know well, that publick Faith ought to be placed and ranked with the most choice, and sacred things; but not to be sincere nor to keep Faith with him, who hath first violated that sacred bond, is not onely lawfull but commendable, and an Action which seemes guided with reason, and justice. This is the chiefest argument of my discourse, which cannot but honourably patronize, what I shall maintaine and defend. The Lawes of Nations (which doubtlesse) approach nearest to Nature and Reason, have not ordaine [...] punishment to him, who kills an Ene­mie when he assaults and would assasinate, but they permit repulsion of Force by [...]ce. And is it not as equally just to punish and revenge those (who pretending to protect innocency) have actually designed to ruine and destroy? Is not a defence and preservation lawfull, when Faith is first violated, and nothing but mischiefe intended? Is power therfore just, because 'tis great? or may men do mischiefe equitably, because they are able? and may not a self defence, or the destruction of a per­fidious [Page 121] Enemy be as equally tolerated? And (if we should now passe from particular quarrells to open and publik Warrs) is it not most true, and that either in hostile invasions, or intestine broiles, that one party is more criminous and unjust then the other; and so the first invader or disturber of peace? To make more particular instance, seeing that Amurath hath invaded the Kingdom of his Allie, surprized his Townes, suborned his Subjects, pillaged his Country, and hath received the Prince and his Children Hostages, and afterwards bro­ken and violated his Faith; are not these Provocations too horrid and insufferable; and can they justly expect any recompence, but of wrath and revenge, if a power offended, be rendred capable to make such a requitall? On these considerations, the world cannot but dis­charge me, from the guilt of being either perfidious or traiterous. He who first violateth his Faith, and is an invader of the Princely Soveraign­ty of his Neighbour, authorizeth his Enemy to all endeavours, to make his highest revenges on him. And he who before was criminous, and therefore punished, becommeth innocent and just; And that which the Enemy calleth treason, is a sage conduct of affaires; that which hee termeth Cruelty, becomes a naturall and just defence. So then, that which is permitted by the Laws of Nations to private persons, and which injuries and bitter extremities have neces­sitated, cannot but be allowed to my just and rationall defence. To this purpose, I cannot but look on Amurath as my particular enemy, causing the death of my Brothers whom he barbarously poisoned, and so as the publick and common enemy of my estate, which he had most unjustly usurped. And if (in my own person) I have most miraculously escaped, doubtless my comportment, guarded me more securely: For I respected him ceremoniously as a great Prince, preventing his suspi­tions with my prudence; and if I have learned to forfeit my Parole, I received that direction from the infidelity and falshood of Amurath; by which means I have found a way open to revenge the death of my Brothers by slaying his Bassaws; and have requited the ruins of my Country, with the defeats of his armies. Yet if you will make a clearer inspection, and dive more deep to search the reasons of my proceed­ings, I must put you in mind how antient Macedonia (that famous Ci­ty) was assaulted by this puissant enemy; that Albania (formerly but a Province) endured many of his violences, as other neighbouring and vicine Territories. At length King Iohn my Father (tired with the continuance of the War, and touched compassionately for the miseries of his people) resolved to render himself tributary to his Empire, and to this purpose he committed his children hostages, hoping, that when my Father died; this cruell Monster would have sent one of his Sons to have been his Successor to have reigned over his Subjects: But (O just heavens) at that very time when I was fighting for him, & expo­sing my life for his service in the atchievements of his glory & renown, the King my Father dying, he dispatched Sebalick (his creature) with troops of Horse & Foot to seize on the noble City of Croy, & all the rest of the chief Towns of Albania; at which time he exiled the Queen my Mother to a poor pittance & corner of the world, without respect un­to her person, who as she was a Queen, so she was the Daughter of the King of Triballieus; & if he spared my person (in this juncture of affairs) it was not through any affection or resentment to humanity, or Justice, [Page 123] but only for that reason, because he conceived he might make great ad­vantage by my conduct and employment in his Wars and service: Which if I had pleased to quit, he might (happily) have lost a con­siderable part of his Army. And hitherto, what hath Scanderbeg done against Amurath? Or rather what offices of love doth not Amurath owe to Scanderbeg? hath his fidelity in any proportion been equal to mine? How could I not (if I had thought fit) have refused his first employ­ments, and continued my repose within his Court? Hostages are more noble then to be treated as Slaves: And if I had not been encouraged by the generosity of mine own spirit, I would not have exposed my life or honour for his service: And seeing that (at that time) he pun­ctually kept conditions, agreed on by the King my Father, I had cause to hope that he would continue a succession to his fidelity. Grounded on this confidence, I resolved to gratifie his Commands with my choicest endeavours, expecting that when that Prince should die, to whom I was successor, I might his ascend throne, and so by double ob­ligations, he might be more firmly bound to keep his Faith and Pa­role. It was this apprehension that invited me to take the charge of Sangiac, and without being so much as a Mahometan, I forbore not to appear a rigid Turk. In the first troubles of Asia, I commanded a party of five hundred men, with so good successe, that the very reputation of that service rendered me capable to bee made Generall of his second Army, wherewith I effected marvellous advantages to the Empire. You cannot but remember how Amurath received, or rather slighted me at Andrinople, then, after so famous a Victory I reconducted his Army, without the loss of more then two hundred men, when the spoils of the e­nemies appeared so great, that they amazed Amurath, as well as other spectators, to behold so great riches, so many slaves, such a number of Flags, Ensigns, and bruised and battered Arms recovered from the E­nemies; then the multitudes could not be restrained from calling me the Restaura [...]or of his Empire. Besides this (it may be) you will remem­ber in what fashion I preserved the honour of that Nation, when that audacious and fierce Scythian presented a defiance to the Sultan, to that end that one of his Court Champions might have accepted the Chal­lenge, and when no other person was found inclinable and resolute, I undertook the Combat; and if I had not vanquished the insolent and furious Scythian by my magnanimity, and valour, the disgrace and shame would have much reflected on the Emperour. At the same time I hazarded my life to all other adventures and dangers. At the taking of Nicomedia and of Prusia, I was as active and bold as the meanest and desperatest Souldier: And when I thought of that prodigious action of Alexander the Great in the City of Oxidraques, I leaped on the walls of the Town, and thence descended with equall courage, and though I dare not say I had the valour of that famous Hero (of whom I speak) and though I may be censured over rash and bold, yet my confidence, and temerity were not without equall successe: For (without vaine glory) I was then the chief and sole cause of surprising that Town; and since then (may I speake it without ostentation) what eminent things have I not done in Europe against the Christians, as wel as in Greece and Hungary? Wherein I have been a fortunate instrument, if not of vanquishing the Christians, yet of defending the Turks against their powerfull Armies. Do all these actions merit neglect, or (much less) [Page 124] perfidious infidelity? Or hath my fidelity been so great, and my va­lour so succesfull, as to cause Amurath to be perfidious to his promises? Hath he no other reward (after his solemn engagements and promi­ses) but to usurp the Kingdome of my Father, to exile the Queen my Mother, to poyson my Brothers, and likewise to design me to bee an Illustrious slave? And not to suffer me longer to live; then I might serve his advantages, and by the conduct of Wars be able to defeate his enemies, and establish his Throne? Doe you beleeve (after such Treaties as these) that I can commit any act of Injustice in failing of my faith to one who so basely and barbarously abused our royall Fa­mily? Yet (perhaps) you will tell me, that Falshood is a thing so detest­able, as not to be excused, much lesse justified. If that rule and maxime be generall, and admits no exception, the Military art must lose great part of it self. Then there wil be no farther use of Stratagems, nor Am­buscadoes; then Towns should never be surprised, nor the Enemies interrupted with Alarums; then there would bee no Combats in the night, nor any occasion of Spies; we needed not feign Retreats to en­gage an Enemy to fight, but it would be necessary to number the For­ces of both parties, to make the combats equall; and Judges would be expedient in the Camp as well as at a Combat of Barriers, or Tour­nies; to see that the Sun were not more splendent in the eyes of the one, then of the other: Admit this absurdity and evill consequences, there would be no need of Generals in Armies, but the valour of the vigorous and hardy Souldiers would be sufficient to dispute and gaine the Field, then the extraordinary prudence, and juditious experience of the greatest Commanders would be uselesse and impertinent. A­nother objection may arise, that these circumstances of Warre, are not onely tollerable but just, and necessary, against declared enemies. To that I answer, Publick contracts betwixt Crowns are more sacred and in­violable then agreements betwixt private persons. And when an Emperour treateth with a Prince, and keepeth not his Parole, he forceth him to be his Enemy, and dareth him to the height of revenge by his perfi­dious actions, which are not only resented by my self, but appear clear­ly to all the world how much I have been injured, and abused by A­murath; for when my Father died, and Amurath had exiled the Queen (my mother) and had poisoned my Brothers, in a fained manner, pre­tending to Generosity, he seemed inclinable to offer me the Crown of Albania with a reserved intention, if I accepted of it, to seize upon my person, or to put me to death. These injust provocations as they sum­moned quickly my apprehensions, so they justifie me not to be crimi­nall: And as for those reproaches of perfidiousness and Treason, they reflect fully on him who was so barbarous and false. As for my com­portments (ever since I came to his Court) did the misfortunes of my condition any whit lessen, or abate my courage? Might I not think af­ter so many actions of valour and gallantry, that my thoughts promp­ted mee to more high, and sublime successes? Ought hee not to have thought when he first usurped the Kingdom of my Father, and put my Brothers to death, that he then effectively declared a War, and dis­ingaged my fidelity, which I might have owed him in the Quality of an Hostage; and that all these actions authorised my endeavours to revenge? Could not he understand that one whose ambition was so [...]gh as to aspire to Soveraigntie, and bee a King, had that passion [Page 125] which is so violent in all generous persons? But chiefly then when they are assured of a lawfull right to a Crown? Could he not foresee that it was impossible for me to be faithful, or a friend to one who usur­ped my Kingdom? All wars have not their Commencements from the procla­mation of the Heralds mouthes. A single action of hostility may engage an Army. It is not in open War as in private Combates. In these latter we chal­lenge, and defie our Enemie; he accepteth the defiance and answereth the challenge. But as for publick Enemies they make a Parley, and treat if they please; and Combats and Cessations of Arms, are actions equally voluntary Generals of Armies are ever masters of their wils regulated to no bounds nor circumstances, but what serves these advantages. On these considerations Amurath might not think it strange (after his Usurpa­tion and Murther) if I should attend all advantages, and become his open enemie. As for preparations of war (when Princes are in low conditi­on) they are not alwaies visible. And when one is reduced to a deplorable con­dition, the designs are onely in the head, but no ingenious person can sleep sound­ly, or rest securely, injured and removed from Soveraignty. And though I was in the power of mine enemie, without an Army, without a Soul­dier, without intelligence from any of mine own Subjects, out of mine own Country, without a person that I might confide or trust in, and without any resistance to so great a design, as I harboured in my bosome (excepting the hopes of heaven, and mine own valour) yet, if Amurath had well observed my actions, he might have easily discer­ned, that I cherished some great reserves within my soul. He might have seen the violence of my desires in a daily aspiring after glory and renown, and he might have read (by the symptoms of my heart) plain­ly in my countenance, that I was not capable to renounce my right to the Throne, nor be contented to be a slave all my life, though never so glorious, That love and friendship which I made with the Officers and Souldiers of the Army, declared that I designed some noble en­terprise for my self, and perceiving that I was not an unactive Cow­ard, it was impossible, but that he should dream of my endeavours to revenge his Injuries. Let him then not blame any but himself, if his policy hath been anticipated, nor reproach me as perfideous, for my desertion; of him 'twas his fault and injury, no crime of mine. For first, he ought to have been in preparation to prevent all danger: And as for my self, I did nothing but what became an open and noble Ene­my. It was doubtlesse just in mee how to consult, to re-conquer A­muraths Usurpation, and by what way and means I might attain to the King my Fathers Throne. If I had discovered my discontents to his unjust proceedings, I had been in that moment made a Prisoner, and either strangled or poisoned the same day. If I had resolved to send to my Subjects, and to the Inhabitants of Croye to require their assistance, my designes might have been discovered, and my Subjects thereby made more miserable, and possibly lesse usefull, or else, from being Subjects (by this meanes) might have been terrified into enemies. Now to have an absolute confidence in the love of the Mahometan souldiers, (with which they courted my per­son) was a thing of great danger in appearance; and to have debauched the Grand Seigniors guards, and with them to have marched to the Christian Princes, to implore their aide and succours, was an attempt too curious and perillous to be effected, and if I had pre­vailed [Page 126] with them, it is uncertain, whether the Princes would have been willing or able to commence a War of so great importance, and to expose their lives and Estates, to hazard, to recover mine: And if they had been resolute, the event might have been very doubtfull against so formidable an Enemy. I would then in this great juncture of misfortunes, propose a resolution to my self, to be the sole Arti­zan of my successes; And if I surprized Amurath, and converted his Forces to my service: I have not justly merited reproach and blame, but rather deserved honour and renown. Seeing that I have not done any thing but by the rules of Justice, nor enterprized any design but what Amurath might expect, if ever able to recompence his injuries. The great Cheate, and usurpation wherewith he affronted me in the eyes of all the World, prepared me to study revenge equall (if possi­ble) to his Cruelty, falsenesse and Vsurpations, onely with this diffe­rence, when Amurath basely forfeited his Faith with me, he violated all rights of honour and justice; And what I have done, was on equall retortion to his merit, to which I was obliged, as bound by nature to revenge the death of my Brothers, the libertie of my Country, mine own glory: and of God also, who is Justice it selfe: And had I no o­ther consideration, but this last within my thoughts, may not I urge and assert (noble Captaines) that God was my Conductor in this action of revenge? Wherefore to have been faithfull to this Tyrant, (to whom I was not a Subject,) would not have onely Corroded my Conscience, but dishonoured that religion I professe. And should not I answer for my Subjects, if I suffered them to be allured to the errors of Mahumatism? And shall not I be culpable, and guilty of the demolition of all those Altars. which the Turks have destroyed, and as criminous as if I had built those Mosques, wherewith the Turks have filled those Townes which belong to me? If I had longer served Amurath, should I not have made my own subjects greater Slaves, and so have contributed more assistance to the Turks; farther to destroy those who adored the God of my Fathers? Think you that the Lord of Hosts could endure, that he who had been favoured with such extra­ordinary good successes, in warlike affaires, should not imploy his best skill and strength against these infidells? and by adventures to make themselves Martyrs, if not Conquerors? Oh no, the chief est duty keeps us strictly in our fidelity to our Altars. Besides I am clearly absolved from his reproaches, in the judgement of all the World: As for Amurath he had no rules of Conscience, nor Religion to oblige his promises, but he could dispense with all relations, though never so sacred. But these obligations did not rest on me, for I was brought an infant to his Court and he was engaged to my Father; which Conditions, did not (with his succession) derive themselves on me. Now if after all those remarkable services, before and since the death of my brothers, and those memorable victories, which he gained, through my Coun­sells and valour in the reconquest of Russia, without much effusion of his souldiers bloud; if he were not touched with honour, nor guided by reason: am I to be blamed if I exercise Justice to my selfe, which he would not designe to render me? or could I longer serve that Prince, who after so many eminent Atchievements of his Warres, complotted all waies and means for my destrushion? Which to have undertaken publickly, might seem too dangerous, because he knew [Page 127] I had gained much affection with the Souldies; And as for my impri­sonment I was too well beloved and guarded, to be so surprized, and my previsions were more diligent then to be suddainly intrapped; ha­ving then possibility to kill me neither by sword nor poison, he con­trived a third way, wherein hee aimed to dispatch me more honoura­bly. Not long after our last return from victory, hee proclaimed a summons to all the Noble Heroes of his Empire, to attend his Court, where he made preparations for martiall exercises and famous Tour­nies: at [...]hich solemn meeting, he hoped that in the divers Combates wherein (possibly) I might make re-encounter, I might receive a foile dishonourably, or fall fatally. (Brave Captaines) I vow to Hea­ven, this Treason is not in the number of any that can be excused, and serveth my turne to be justly more active in revenge: When I discerned the depth of this perfidions action, as I was dispatched with the Army into Hungary: I took my resolutions not long to fight for mine Enemie Amurath, and began to think of fighting for my self; I resolved over my thoughts the power and interest of a Gene­rall, and what it was to march before, and command an Army: These Cogitations reflected on me with shame to my selfe, who had so long a time been faithfull to an infidell: I began to have a horrour, and to be disswaded from drenching my hands in Christians blood: In my march, I approached near to valiant Huniades, who was a Comman­der in that Army, and he inspired into my ears, what shame possessed his soul, marching under the Turkish Standard. These discontents quickned my resolutions; and when I found my opportunity, I quit­ted the Infantry, and withdrew from that Army: This is that which Amurath calls Treason; but 'twas a just reward for a mortall Enemie, whom (I acknowledge) I served no longer, and whom I found would prove eternally faithlesse and ingrate. After the defeat, I retreated into my own Kingdome; you received me honourably, assisted me couragiously, to chase and destroy the Common Enemies. And was there any blacknesse in this action? Did I contrive to take away the life of Amurath ignobly? or by such base waies and meanes as he did mine? Did I invade his Empire as heusurped my Kingdome? May it not be rather said to the contrary, that revenge was never taken more gentely, and more justly. And since I have made the Conquest of my Kingdome, if I have continued the Warre, or refused the Treaties of peace from Amurath; it is not because I love not peace, but because I cannot find fidelity in that Prince, with whom I am to treat; And that his ends are not honourable, but to disarme an Enemy, whom he feared, and so to surprize (if possible) his Credulity, who is not to be easily taken by spetious pretences. Do not I then rather deserve the reputation of being faithfull, then perfidious? who so clearly mani­fest truth to my Enemie? and yet (to judge a little more exactly of this proceeding) recall into your memory (valiant Captaines) I con­jure you, all those circumstances of my Comportment, when I was in the head of the Armies of Amurath, adventuring my life to inlarge his Conquests, and to advance his glory: had not you most friendly rebuked me in secret, and murmured against me, and (not diving into the bottome of my heart) doubted whether I deserved to have been the Son of so excellent a Prince, and concluded that I had aban­doned Christianity utterly; that the love of my Country was extin­guisht, [Page 128] and rooted out of my Soul, and consequently, that I was not affected with any sence of true noblenesse, and honour? And yet in your very repinings, you made Apologies for my actions, better then I knew how to make for self: For you concluded that I had no other way to manifest my self more clearly the Son of the King my Father, then by those heroick actions, which I pursued in my imployment. The world will confesse, that men are not equally obliged to be as faithfull to perfidious Enemies as to faithfull Friends, to those who exercise artifice, and and fraud, as to those who love sincerity. It is doubtlesse great unworthi­nesse and basenesse to forfeit faith, and break Parole by malice, perfi­diousnesse or mercenary interest; but to be unfaithfull to a Traitor, to an Usurper, to a Murderer, and to quit his service for the recovery of a Crown and Kingdome, for the interest of a Country, and preser­vation of Christianity, if this desertion may be censured perfideousnesse by Amurath, in my sence, and in reason it rather deserves Elogies and Panegyricks then injuries and reproaches. And if it be true, that For­tunate usurpers advanced to eminent qualities, and attended with successes, in time become acknowledged as legitimate Princes: Is it not more reasona­ble and true, that that Prince (to whom a Crown doth effectually ap­pertain) deserves the highest honour, who conquers and forceth it from his hands, who hath most unjustly, and tyrannously usurped it? And are not all means used for the recovery allowed? and as for the act, doth it not rather merit the opinion of glory and renown, then the accusation of a crime? No, no, the observation of ones Parole ha [...]h as well its bounds and limitations as all other things. The interest of ones Coun­try and Religion are principall, and high concernments, and admit of dispensa­tions in some degrees. We read, that Rome hath been preserved, when Fa­thers have preferred her honour and safety before the lives of their own children: But (some may say) this was unnaturall and a cruell act, yet the wise Romans not onely permitted, but commended those Patriots who reverenced their Countrie with so great estimation a­bove their Children; and that which seemed cruelty, and inhumanity in private relations, appeared as a laudable sacrifice when it served (in this high obligation) to defend or protect ones Country. It is certain­ly true, that those generous Fathers have with great zeal and deep af­fection, most stoutly fought for the preservation of their children, their liberties, lives, and honours (on other occasions) and have not spared to hazard the last drop of their blood. But where the conside­ration of ones Country is in competition with love to children, the publick interest hath ever prevailed most powerfully, and affection to children is less vigorous, and Fathers are encouraged to see their children die, when it is for the service of the Republique, with less sorrow, and regret; and such actions merit less of blame, and more of glory. Now if Fathers are pardonable, exposing their children to death, how tolerable is it for me to violate my Parole, for the redemp­tion, and preservation of my Country? Yet you will tell me, that a Pagan example doth not necessarily produce a conclusion for a Christi­an: But if Heathens have thus proceeded for the defence of their Country, what may not Christians do for the interest of their Religion? which bond is so sacred, as it ought to be the end and aim of all their best endeavours: Besides what is fit to regulate the Soveraign actions of Princes, but onely Religion, which confineth rules to their Policy, and [Page 129] ought ever to sit President in their Counsells. On these Principles, wee re­pent not of our pretences to fidelity, having endured so long a servi­tude to obtain so good an end; And we believe and resolve, that it is no dishonour nor injustice to be unfaithfull to an infidell Prince, who hath given the occasion by the violation of his Faith and Parole. Come on (brave Souldiers) then, let us march, without remorse, and let us vanquish and destroy this common Enemy of Christianity, and use all craft and art, as well as force of Armes. Let us not be so scrupulous as Alexander the great (that invincible Conqueror) we are not assured of his Fortune, nor of his Valour, and wee know certainly, that we have not his retinue and train: let us use all stratagems for our ad­vantage, and be as active in the night as in the day; and if we van­quish, the Sun will gloriously shew us the effects of our Conquests; and if we be worsted in our nocturnall and more secret attempts. the darknesse will give an umbrage, and obscure our shame and Cow­ardise; as well as hide our misfortunes. To conclude (Generous Cap­taines) we are resolved to vanquish and effect our resolutions, and to attain our Conquests; we must be heroick in our actions, danted with no opposition, nor neglecting any occasion of advantage. Wherefore prepare your selves to be practicall in the military science, that you may be as successfull as valiant. For we are but feeble and few, and the enemies puissant, and numerous, and if we do not sur­prise them as well as fight them, their vast multitudes will suppresse our Valour and Courage. Thus (valiant Captaines) you see that our designes are innocent and generous; and that infidelity it self to a perfidious Tyrant (being well managed) may gain immortall ho­nour and glory.

The Censure.

THE reason of Scanderbeg appear powerfull and strong, yet amongst them all there will be a generall debility; if religion had not been his war­rant and justification for his actions. This Prince (through his incomparable valour) attempted many thousand glorious actions, and effected wonders, to the amazement of that age wherein he lived: he defeated Armies, which for their vast multitudes could scarce be numbred; He dammed up that great Torrent which stopped not, till it had ravaged the moiety and greater part of the World; he caused one Emperor to die with shame, grief, and dishonor; He forced Mahomet the second (who was the Conqueror of so many Empires and King­domes) to testifie, by that excessive joy, which he conceived of his death the extraordinary fear he had of him during his life. And (not to flatter truth) this great Generall Scanderbeg, was (doubtlesse) the greatest Heroe of these lat­ter ages. Yet (not to speak partially) had not the interest of Religion been con­siderable, all the glory of his latter actions, could not have excused the violation of his Parole. For to face about and joyne with the Enemie, in a Battail to faigne a flight for fear as being too weak, and to defeat those Troops that he commanded, to serve the Enemy, are Circumstances so odious that they had neede of all the importance and Arguments of Christianity to help them to plead for aspecious pretence, and to Apologize. I know well Saint Augustine made his retracta­tions, [Page 130] and that repentance of former crimes, is a most essentiall part to Religion. I well remember that a Cannon of the Counsell of Constance (where John Hus and Hierome of Prague were burnt.) dischargeth Faith, and obligeth it not to be kept with Hereticks; and thence some frame the argu-ments, that if Faith is not to be kept with them, much lesse with infidells. But [...]as this Cannon savoureth not of Ortho­dox Truth, so it is not generally obliging, nor Catholick and Christian doctrine (secundum fundamenta) The Question was in that Councel con­cerning the Pasport of Princes given to Hereticks, and whether they could protect them in their addresses and returns from Synods and Councels; where it seems Faction and not truth concludeth in the negative, as­serting, that particular Pasports and Conducts oblige none to keep faith but those who grant the Pasports, and not the Councels, which consent not, and had a separated power of permission. It is true, if this Cannon were receiv'd as a Conclusion of an Oecume nick, General Councel, then on all occasions a man might violate his Parole and faith to Infidels, but this qu [...]stion is rather Theological then Moral, and Political. If this were true on the pretense of Heresie, or Infidelity, no Faith would be kept, and so (consequently) humane society and divine truth would be utterly destroyed. Now as for Morality and Policy, they conclude, the Faith and Parole of Princes ought to bee inviolable and sacred, which if abused reflects ever upon the violators, with the consequences of irreparable shame, or incomparable perill. By virtue of this argument, the action of Scanderbeg is more liable to censure: And if at present this Prince had drawn his sword against France in the King­dom of Naples, in favour of the King of Aragon, and wore a Red Scarfe to di­stinguish his resolutions against the white ones of France; and 'twere so, that the Wars were yet continued betwixt both Nations, it might be concluded from Scanderbegs own example, that it were lawfull to be treacherous, and it were no error to insist on those arguments which he used for his own purpose: But now from Albania let us passe to the Kingdom of Polonie, and there see Henry the third of France on that Throne of Polonie, where we shall meet with a question very curious for its examination, and most important to be determined. This Prince (being secretly advertiz'd of the death of CHARLES the Ninth his Bro­ther) consulteth with his Ministers and chiefest Confidents, Whether he ought to prefer (in his election) a peaceable, and quiet Kingdom before a Kingdom full of Wars and Tumults, and humble and obedient Subjects, before Subjects revolted. And whether it were just to deprive Polonie of his presence, and to return to France, which he had so voluntarily abandoned. This is the subject of the dis­course, which this eloquent and ingenious Prince reasoneth as it followeth.

HENRY THE THIRD TO PIBRACK AND PHILIP, DESPOTES.

THose who onely judge by outward appearances, and by the externall pomp which dazelleth Vulgar eyes, beleeve not that there can be any difficulty in the choice and election of Crownes, and ima­gine nothing more easie then to part with one Scep­ter to receive another, and to descend from one Throne to mount to another more glorious; con­cluding, that the change of Diadems for others more illustrious, is very acceptable; and that Soveraignty is agreeable with generous minds, but chiefly then when the Domination is inlarged. Yet you shall finde it most certaine, that it is more facile for a Prisoner and Slave to make choice of his Irons (though all punishments are natu­rally unwelcome) then for Kings to make an Election of different, and severall Crowns. The Slaves know that the lightest chaines are al­waies the least incommodious: But it is hard to determine whether the most illustrious, and splendent Crowns, and the most elevated, and sublime Thrones are most desirable. As Royal Crownes may in­vite, so those sparkling Diadems ought not to dazle the eyes of those who aspire after them. Scepters are as well ponderous and weighty, as ma­jestick and glorious: The Thrones of Kings are seated in high elevations, and those who ascend them ought to be sure that their Foundations are well laid, and the stairs and degrees firm whereby they mount them. Now in the examina­tion of these occurrences, it becometh me to consider by what right I am King of Polonie, and what Rights I have to the Crown of France. To this end, that I may precisely determine to which of my Subjects I owe my presence, and to which of these Kingdomes I may more properly bestow my assiduous and daily care; this being the most principle motive that should oblige my resolutions justly to afford them my presence, and the chiefest cause that may endear their loy­alty and obedience to their Prince. As for my Subjects of Polonie, I must confesse they have freely chosen me their King, and voluntari­ly submitted to my Domination; and (not to silence their bounty) have presented me with that Crown. My Birthright hath done the same thing to me, and Princes elevated to Soveraignty, owe nothing to their [Page 132] Subjects, but hold their Scepters onely from God. Subjects have the birth of Subordination and Servitude, and Princes are of absolute Soveraignty▪ As for the Suffrages of the people in the election of a King, they are bonds and chains of their absolute obedience, riveted by their tongues in the acclamations which they cannot justly violate and break. And nothing else but expressions and u­nanimous submissions to that power whom some more eminent quali­ties & noblenesse hath set them above them; who though eligible by their consent, yet cannot be deposed or deserted without the horrid crimes of Rebellion and Treason. But I have not any cause to be jealous of my Subjects un­worthiness or disloyalty; for I am King in Polonie not onely by legiti­mate election, but in a continued approbation, being well assured, that there passeth not a day wherein I have not the constant Vowes, Prayers, and hearty Devotions of the people, supplicating the Heavens for a continuation of my prosperity, and have a daily assu­rance, and ratification of their first Election by constancie of their publick Exultations. So that I reign as well in my Subjects hearts as in the Kingdome of Polonie. They feare mee reverently because they love me; they obey me dutifully, because I am Master of their affections; they strive to inlarge my Domination, and to strike a terrour into others, to make my Reign the more secure, and to pre­sent an impossibility to all endeavours, to give a check to the pre­sent authority, peace, plenty, and tranquillity. My Reigne seemes so solidly established, that no accident can shake the Foundation of so well-grounded a Soveraignty. VVhat then can a Prince desire more then the fruition of a glorious Crown, attended with the Fidelity of dutifull, and most loyall Subjects? What Authority more pleasant then to bee beloved of those whom wee command? And to have no other thoughts nor care for Justice, but in considerations how to recom­pence faithfull Subjects, and dutifull Servants; and to Reigne so prosperously, as to have no cause to exercise the Royall virtue of Clemencie; but towards persons more unfortunate then criminous? The ordinary meanes of establishing Peace is by the Ravages of Warre, and the effusion of much blood; but that which is bought by others at so hard a price, cost not my Subjects a teare since the first day of my Election to the Crown. And they are so united Fra­ternally amongst themselves, that they are equally linked in the common interest of their Princes breast. And as the Scripture saith, that God holdeth in his hands the hearts of Kings, so may I say (but still with reverence) that the hearts of my Subjects are in the hands of my self, their Prince.

All these reasons (first alleadged) how can I with wisdome quit my Kingdome of Polonie? And if ugly Ingratitude bee so monstrous a crime even amongst private persons, how detestable and odious should it appeare in the eyes of a Prince? who is in that sublime de­gree, and so farre above others, as not onely obliged to gratifie and recompence Civilities, but to heape honours and multiply Favours freely on persons capable of Princely bounty and Generosity. To a­bandon then those subjects, who so freely chose me their King, and that Kingdome which is so abundant in peace, and plenty, cannot but affect my thoughts with much trouble, and perplexity. And on the other side, to resolve to adventure to wear that Crown, whose splen­dor is so much obscured, where the Kingdome is so much divided, [Page 133] where those who recall me, feare me more then love me, or if they seem to love me, do it more for their own ends then my service: And (Farther) where there are to be found as many Rebells as Subjects, and a civill Warre devouring the very heart of the Country, where in that great body no one part is intirely sound, or free from the Epidemick disease of the State. These considerations may retard and deterre my resolutions from going to France. Besides the Provinces of Poitou, Nor­mandie, Dauphine and Languedock are in armes against me: Great sedi­tions shines, and heresies are insolently spread, and have generally in­fected the Kingdom of France, and (perhaps) I may be forced to the endeavours of a new Conquest, before I may hope for a quiet and peaceable possession of the Kingdome; and that (usually) I should be forced to make my entrance into the most Famous Townes of France, rather by the breaches which the Cannons might make, then by the Gates of the Townes, loyally lying open. And so, to march triumphantly, attended with such joyfull acclamations as usually ac­company Princes in their fresh addresses, and entrances to their Crowns. Imagine you what a strange and unwelcome alteration would that be, to quit a Kingdome wherein all the Subjects are in repose, and humble and affectionate towards their Prince, and to march into another, where the fields are overstrewed with dead corpses, where the greatest part of the people deserve rather the seve­rest Punition, then pardon, or the grace of Clemency, as having of­fended, (and that irrepentantly) the just authority of all divine and humane rights. Might I not better constitute the Queen my Mother Regent of France, and appoint my Lieutenant Generall for the Con­duct of my Martiall affaires? For I must confesse, though I am obliged to France for my Birth and life: Yet I owe and hold my Scepter from Polonie: It is in the life and blood of illustrious [...]ap [...]t, whereby I may claim the Crown of France; but it is the Franke and voluntary bounty of my Subjects hearts, wherby I hold the Scepter of Polonie; And how shall I equally gratifie the rights and merits which both Crowns may challenge from me? If I go into France with hopes to terminate that War, I may very probably raise a War in Polonie, where peace is so well established; And may it be lawfull to attempt an uncertain good with an assurance certainly to cause some dangerous evill? (In this weighty concernment) ought I not as well to reflect on my subjects, as on my selfe, and in both relations, looke up to Heaven to be bet­ter guided? If I consider the love of my Subjects of Polonie, I must ac­knowledge they presented me with that Crown: Yet I must not blaspheme, It is God alone that raiseth and pulleth down from the Throne, and he maketh the elective as well as the hereditary Kings. All Soveraignty and Crownes absolutely depend on his pleasure, and authority. And it is a Law indispensable, that all Crownes owe their Homage and duty to the King of Kings. As for the people who honour Kings with their acclamations, they do no more in the Ceremony of inauguration, then to proclaim their own obliga [...]ions to obedience: But it is God who giveth the Soveraignty of King­domes, who appoints his terrestriall vicegerents, and Ministers after his Cae­lestiall Pattern, to exercise justice and mercy. It is he to whom alone Kings owe account, and it is an inseparable Comitant to the Royall Office, to succour the pressing necessities of the subject impartially, without the distinction of Persons or qualities, or injury to the rules of Justice [Page 134] In these considerations, it is evident to all the World, that whether I hold the Crown of Polonie or the Crown of France, the tenure is chiefly and solely from God. And as for the People of both Kingdomes, they swell with equall affections in my heart: And whether I conti­nue in Polony, or advance towards France, I am to be as a common Fa­ther, and Parent to the Country, and without respects of either re­pose in peace, or hazard in War, it is my duty to regard what is most just and equitable; and as to either Kingdome what may be more commodious, and more glorious. Let us see then (I beseech you) whether it be more reasonable to quit a Kingdom where my presence is necessary, to prevent a War, or to go to another, where it may be very doubtfull, whether my person may recover and establish a peace. It is not permitted to effect any evill, though with a good end, much lesse in at­tempt of so uncertain an assurance. Those famous Acts which great and hardy spirits attempt, in usurpations of Empires and Kingdomes, are no lesse crimi­nous before God, then the more common horrid crimes are amongst men. And is it not as great an injury to robb a King from a Kingdom, as a King­dome from a King? It hath arrived and faln out sometimes, that Souldiers have forsaken their Captaines, and Captaines their Gene­ralls, and Generalls their Princes and Masters, because they have been either base or false; But for a generous and prudent Prince to have quitted his Faithfull Subjects, and to make a choice of others, of whose fidelity he hath had no experience, but rather danger, whether they would prove dutifull and loyall, is an accident, which (per­haps) hath never happened, unlesse in this example of my person. Notwithstanding the tendernesse and equity, which causeth a Father to leave his Children, who are not in danger to make hast and runne to deliver those that are in eminent peril, encourageth my resoluti­ons, in this Conjuncture, and invites me to leave them, now being more prosperous and happy, and more able to succour others who are very miserable. When the Sea is calme, every ordinary Pilot doth presume to work at the Helm, or guide the ship: but when the Sea is rough, and the VVaves wanton and furious; the most skillfull Seaman observes the Compasse, and steeres the Course. It is he who chiefly grapples with the tempest, when all the company (with trembling eyes and eares) attend his Counsells, and his motions: It is he on whom they depend to preserve the Ship from Rockes, and protect the Vessell from the fury of the Rowling VVaves, and (at last) to bring them safely to the Port, and Harbour. Do not you then so much admire, if you heare me preferre VVarre before Peace, and rather expose my selfe to troubles, then to perpetuate that tran­quillity, which I doe now enjoy. Polonie is furnished with many Noble Personages, who can easilie preserve her in that good Estate, wherein the Kingdome is now established: But Faire France now is rich in nothing but broiles and troubles, which are (at present) so highly inflamed, as probably not to be extinguished without the approach of my person. A Prince is a star in himself so glorious, that it of­tentimes obscures by the beams of Majesty (though arising a far off) those l [...]sser and feeble ligh [...]s, which (in his absence) shine bright in the Peoples eyes, and grow conspicuous before some eminent deluded Grandees: But when that petty splendor vanisheth, their credit and reputation (which hath shone in the night of tumults and divisions) diminisheth [Page 135] also. And then Revolts and Seditions commonly shaddow them selves under the Umbrage of more just protection, and (recovered out of the clouds of Treason) submit to the brightness of true Majesty, confiding there to finde the Rayes of Clemencie. You see then my resolutions are not unreasonable, and that a Prince in equity is not onely obliged to live where he can have most honour, ease, and plenty, but where hee may still increase his renowne, and more glo­riously exercise his royall dignity. And whereas it may be object­ed, that Polonie may fall into the miseries of War, and so consequent­ly some evils attend that Kingdome, by reason of my motions, and advance towards France; I answer, the Generall of an Army, who hath given and gained a Battail, is not responsible (by Martiall discipline) for the losse of three or four thousand men slaine in that re-encounter; and the Cryes of the Widdows and Orphans (on this occasion) cannot hin­der the Trophies and Triumphs of Victory and Joy, nor extinguish the Bonefires of Exultation. Where (on the contrary) a private Captaine having rashly, or imprudently exposed his Company to great danger, and to no purpose, and without order) hath some­times been sentenced not onely to lose his place, but also his life. Thus 'tis true, the least circumstance of dishonour and imprudence changeth the face of things. Now in Politick affairs it is sufficient if the design be reasonable, though the effects succeed not; the chiefe Commander, though failing in the enterprise, is free from blame: Good Counsels, and good Intentions (though honest) are not alwaies fortunate; and we are not to judge of the actions of Princes by successes and usuall events.

Notwithstanding I shall further adde, that my removing to the Crown of France may contribute greater advantage and safety to the State of Polonie: For thinke you not that the Neighbour Princes will continue their power with more moderation, or be in more fear, when they shall understand that he who was King of Poland shall become absolute Master of the first, and greatest Kingdome in Christendom? And that he and his Allies may bee therefore more formidable to all the Princes in the earth? Alexander the Great commanded Subjects (though remote and distanced) in the farthest parts. The Senators of Rome, who never budged out of that Royall City, made intire Provin­ces to tremble, which were no nearer the Capitoll then Cracovia is to Paris. If that great Conqueror Alexander quitted the pleasant scituation or Macedonia for the great riches and glory of Persia, wee may conclude then that Dangers are companions of honour, and agree with illustrious minds. On this account I may be permitted to leave Po­lonie, to goe and raign in France. But you will tell me, the Mace­donians murmured when Alexander resolved to leave them, and ad­vanced toward Persia. I answer, Alexander aimed at the glory of that Empire, who was a stranger and no Persian; but I have a more natu­rall right to the Crowne of France, which is not onely an appa­rent, and casuall Interest, to ground my expectations and de­signes, in the Government of that Illustrious Kingdome. Where­fore the Polanders and French united in one Crowne, are to bee in­corporated in the mutuall relations of ayde and assistance. I can­not but esteeme it a degree of Inhumanity to abandon those, who presented mee with a Royall Crowne; and therefore I have a con­testation [Page 136] in my soul, how to deport my selfe in an equall dispensa­tion of Soveraignty and favour to both Kingdomes. It is not valour alone that causeth Princes to be renowned, but bounty, sweetnesse, gratitude, and moderation. Virtues which make no great noise, but like deep streames glide smoothly and gently, gain the Subjects hearts, makes the Soveraigne more glorious, his Government more acceptable, and his renown more immortall: And the Historians have not been lesse industrious in the description of the passages of Granica, and the Battail of Arbella, then of the great Armies of the Macedonian Conqueror over the numberlesse Forces of Darius.

These things being so, why may I not expect the reward of Honour? being so generous as not to resolve absolutely to quit those who love mee; and still reserve so much Equity and Justice due to them for their Election of me to bee their King, that I may not force them to repent of their Royall Favour: And if I bee so bounded in my moderation as rather to make choice of hardship and trouble with hopes of doing better service, then of dalliance (in the abundance of delicious plenty) where the Princes and Nobles are as fortunate and happy as they can wish themselves; On this ground I make my resolution to advance towards those parts, where true glory leads and conducts me, and every step of my march (even from the first motion) shall be with design of equal honour to Polonie and France; towards which wee shall not make more haste to search out the delicacies and pleasures of that Kingdome, but proposing a Method and course of Moderation, resolve to expose our selfe to the fury of a Civill Warre, with hopes to recover an establisht Peace in that distempered and divided State. Hee who is reso­lute to leave repose to find out trouble, the design of his actions be­ing just, he must needs be attended, with honour and glory, and in these occasions acting for the preservation of Religion, and restau­ration of defaced Altars, fighting with ardour and zeal, cannot but be famous; if he destroy that great Monster, which (at present) threatens the ruin and desolation of France.

It is not then mine own will that induceth me to leave my Sub­jects, but a supernall, and heavenly interest that chiefly snatcheth mee from them: And Morall Generosity is obliged to give place, and yeeld to Divine Policie: And since (to speake rationally) my Birth hath made mee a King, as to this latter respect, I cannot with Ju­stice and Honour quit the Priviledges of my Birth-right, and being advanced to so glorious a Crowne, I am not only obliged to Reign, but to rule with Justice, and so to support that great lustre, and glory which is derived on me from my Predecessors. As for the qua­lity of Elected Kings, the Successors are not obliged to preserve the honour of those who ruled before them; but Princes who come to their Crownes by Inheritance, have Kings their Fathers, as well as their Predecessors; and being naturally descended from them, they are not onely to endeavour to bee glorious, but likewise engaged to support the splendour and renown of their Ancestors. And the Scepter of France hath been borne up by so many famous Princes, that as it were ignominious in me to refuse so glorious a Birth-right, so it were ignoble not to endeavour by a signal emulation, to imitate (if not exceed) the chiefest Virtues of those Illustrious Princes; [Page 137] which if I should not undertake, my neglect would prove an in­glorious declaration to all the world, that I tacitely renounced a Royall Right and Scepter, and was unworthy or unable to weare so splendent a Crowne and Diademe, and had not in me the Valour and Virtues of mine Ancestors: I must part, part (I say) my deare Friends) though with great griefe and reluctancie from those who have received us with so great joy, and whose hearts are overwhel­med with sorrow, at our preparations to leave them. Oh Heavens! what an unparallel'd conjuncture am I falne into? I speake of my departure from Poland, but doe not well know how to finde out the way and meanes, being so inviron'd with the affections of so many thousands, from whose vigilant love I can scarce withdraw my self. My consultations are onely with my self, and you my Friends; and I am well assured that he who had so universall a consent, and generall acclamations, when hee was crowned, shall not have one vote or voice to quit his Crown: If hee shall referre his resolution to the publick deliberation of the people. I can easily (if I will) stirre up all the Kingdome of Polonie into Armes, and ingage them not to permit my departure. So that I can say, I am free, and yet a Prisoner, and that which seemes more cruell, I cannot complaine of my Guards, which have so great passion to obey my commands, that (on the contrary) I am obliged to love them. And now (after all this conflict, and debate, I must resolve to leave them, and that for ever: And yet (which is more cruell) without gi­ving them notice, or so much as saying, adieu my Subjects, my Friends. Whoever read of an accident so strangely tempered as this of mine is? I am gratefull, and thankfull in my soul to the Polanders for their favours, and yet I must appear to them, and all the world, uncivill and monstrous.

Fortune, in this occasion, seems to overthrow, and beat downe all her former favours, and hath rather impoverished, then inrich­ed me. I could rather wish that she bad never presented me with the Crowne of Polonie, then so to have snatcht, and ravisht mee from thence. But (after all this) I know that Kings neither live, nor Reign for themselves, there is a fatal Law and Decree, which guideth them as wel as inferiour private persons; and they are as well bound up to the rules of obedience, as Subjects to their Princes wills and pleasures. Policy doth often oppose Religion, but the latter ought to bee the chiefest Councellour of a King. Justice and Clemencie require things, which seeme intirely different; the love of peace, and am­bition of true Renowne familiarly oppose one another: to be a King, and in that Royall Quality more illustrious, is certainly to be something above an ordinary person. Bee not you then startled at the diversity of my reasons, or difficulty of my resolutions in this point. The paths which lead Princes to supremacie, are not so di­rectly beaten, as that they may not erre, and deviate from the right way; then principally when the affaires are sublime, important, and ex­traordinary.

Examples in Antiquitie demonstrate the truth in this case, for to bee a King by election, and to be a King by birth, and to bee beloved of the first Subjects; and misapprehended and prejudi­cated (for the most part) by others, to leave those who are ex­perimentally [Page 138] faithfull, and to addresse to others who are tumultuous, insolent, and uncivill: to abandon the delights of peace, and to make choice of the affaires of Warre; not to be able to quit the faithfull without griefe, nor to relieve and succours others without certain infamy and danger: To conclude, to be constrained to flye from a Kingdome, for fear of being forced to raigne Soveraignly: These are such different varieties of concernments, as humane pru­dence rarely or never consulted with before: and in which, the deepest policy will prove too shallow, to sound the bottome, and make a resolution, what to choose or leave. But in the extremity and streight, my owne reason, and thoughts of true honour, must be our guides, what course to steere, and no other Pilots (how skillfull soe­ver) can be usefull to me in this nick of so great importances. I doubt not but that my return into France may indanger to change, & alienate the affection of my subjects in Poland (perhaps) into the quality of as great hatred as it was of kindnesse. For it is the course and effect of love once irritated, to turn into fury. But if this misfortune should attend me, I shall (at last) gain this advantage, that posterity may better judge of the sweetnesse and temper of my domination, and Reigne by their resentment: and, that election and choice that they made of me, wherein they might (possibly) have been abused. But my heart hath been utterly incapable of unworthinesse, or unthankfullnesse to loy­all and faithfull Subjects. See (noble friends) the reasons of my re­solutions in the election of an object so extreamly rare, which have perswaded me to withdraw from the Polish Court, and to addresse to­wards France. I have nothing more to adde, but onely that I am a Prince, whom a Crown which nature hath prepared for me, cannot so absolutely comfort and encourage, as the losse of another, which Fortune, and my own merits presented to me, doth afflict and trou­ble me.

The Censure.

THE fancy and device of Henry the third, was two Crownes in an Escut­cheon, representing that of France, and that of Polonie: And this was the Soul and life of the Motto: The last I look for in Heaven. But he that invented this device, did not think to have made so suddain a change, nor so speedily to have received the last, which his own invention and Mo [...]to seemed to foretell, and Prophesie. On these and such like occasions, we may cry out with St. Paul, Oh, the depth of the riches of the wisdome and knowledge of God, whose judgements are incomprehensible, and his waies past finding out? Who is he that knoweth the thoughts of the Lord, and who hath been his Counsellor? Who could have said to Henry de Valois, when he acquitted his Crown of Polonie to return into France, that in the ascent to his new Throne, he should finde so suddain a degree, of descent to his Tombe: and that his entertainment of that Scepter, should prove a speedy means to the losse of his life, by so violent and so unusuall a death; And even then, (when his designes and Ambitions lead him to have his head crowned with a glorious Diadem) he should loose the sight and brightnesse of the Sun. The Prophet and foreteller of such infallible tru [...]h, should have had neither Faith nor Favour for his reward. 'Tis true, he removed from a Climate, where Ice, and Snow, and thick Foggs dwell eternally, and returned to another aire, which is more temperate, and pleasant, and the diversity of seasons equally regu­lated. Whence man may see how the great Creator of the Universe hath made all things with weight, number, and measure. In Polonie this Prince encountred with extremity and sharpnesse of cold: and here in France he became reproached by his own Mother, who formerly so doted and Idolized her Son: he acquitted the rough and savage Polanders, and returned to a Country, where he met with lesse civilities: he succeeded a King, who was not much loved, whose raign was violent in Civill Broiles. This Prince saw (whilst he was Duke of Anjou) how he was the Peoples Darling, and the Kingdomes delight. And therefore his reason might perswade him to return, where (proba­bly) those Flames of affection could not (as yet) be extinguished. So that his Management (upon this occasion) seemeth to be most judicious, and his choice e­quitable, and both these were confirmed to him, by the testimonies of glory, and triumph, which did meet him, and attend on him on the Frontiers of France, and seemed to promise to him a prosperous Raigne, accompanied with much Felicity. But, (oh the vanity of all Earthly Contentations) this temperate Cli­mate, and fair Kingdome, found no entertainment for her King, but outrages, and tempestuous broiles: The Queen his Mother (who so passionatly loved the Duke of Anjou) had no kindnesse for him when he was King of France. The People civilized at some seasons, at his approach, became more barbarous then Scythians: they endeavoured to asperse his honour, and assaulted his life, and (at last) forced him from his Throne, to which he never made (after his misfortune) a re-ascent: his Reign was almost as bloody as that of his Pre­decessors: before his death he discern'd himself the object of the Peoples scorne, and odium, whom formerly they had so hugged in their affections, and extolled with admiration: and after a grappling with many mischievous reencounters, he was unfortunately assassinated by an abominable Monster, a Jacobin Frier. Kings by this example may learne to humble themselves before the Throne of the great King of Kings; who elevateth them to their Roy­all [Page 140] dignities. That God which foundeth, establisheth, and preserveth Empires, can shake their foundations, dissipate their forces, and de­stroy their strength at his pleasure; and no earthly power is so firm and puissant, but he can as easily break to shivers as a Potters Vessell. A Royal Scepter is but a Reed in comparison of that Iron Rod where­with God chastizeth: And when Kings are thrust out of Gods Provi­dence, Grashoppers, and Frogs, shall prove enemies too formidable for their resistance: And there is nothing so feeble, amongst all the crea­tures but shall be strong enough (when God is displeased) to ruinate and destroy them. Let not then great ones affie in their subtilty, nor trust in uncertaine Riches, nor in the numbers of Forces and Armies. These are things so farre from securing Princes, that they doe not onely fail them, but serve to pull down their authority. These attendants are of a mortall, and mutable condition, and no security is to be sought, or setled but in God alone, who is unchangeable. And to this purpose the Morals of the Evangile are better for Princes then the profoundest rules of Aristotle, and the deepest Po­lititians; and the dependency of a blessing from heaven transcendeth all Prince­ly experience, or humane Counsell. He who takes care for the Birds of the air, forgets not Princes; but when they first offend and forget their Maker, their ruin is (probably) not far off. To conclude, this name of Henry the third of France transfers me to another of that name, Henry the eighth of England, who found himself much streightened what to resolve; for having elevated Anne Bullen to the Throne, and having repudiated Katherin, he found himself con­strained to put her to death for her Falshood, and Incontinency: he seemed to struggle with many difficulties, which gave a check to his resolu­tions, but over-ruled by these reasons following, he caused the Lady to die, whom he professed to have loved more dearly then his own Soul.

The mighty and most magnificent Prince, Henry the eight, king of England, Fraunce, and Ireland. defender of the faith (etc) He raigned 37. yeares, and 10 monthes, died at the age of 57. yeares. & lieth burie [...] at Windsor.

Are to be Sould by William Peake


HENRY the VIII TO THOMAS CROMVVELL Lord High Chamberlain of ENGLAND.

AS I was Averse from their Councels, and yeilded to my passion, when I resolved to advance Anne Bullen to my Throne, so I ought no more to be attentive to their Importunities, who endeavoured to perswade me not to sacrifice to my revenge, this obla­tion which I caused Crown'd. For it is expedient that this victime ex­piate her crime and mine: it being certain that I have been no less culpa­ble in too much loving and honour­ing her, then she hath been false and unworthy towards me. The nature of her crime is of such deformity, that it is not capable of the beams of Clemency. I am well assured that Agu­stus Caesar, who made this vertue to appear so illustrious towards the lat­ter end of his reign, repented of nothing more, but that he had elected the punishment of Exile for the correction of the evil inclination of his daugh­ter Julia, and had not been more severe to so notorious a crime: which is most odious in any of that sex, but more intolerable and impardonable in a Queen then any others. If I were permitted to give that sin a name, I should be much troubled how to describe it; it is so black and foul. Had Anne no other umbrage to have shadowed her, and prevented her from that shameless choice, modesty (the common protection of that sex) might have guarded her chastity: and she might have been perswaded, that puri­ty, and a spotless conversation would have proved the greatest ornament and beauty to her; without which, beauty it self becomes but an object of scorn and aversion, a loose and impudent garb provoking rather an odium and detestation, then love and admiration: And as Ladies have nothing else to observe and attend more then vertue and modesty, and what may best and most grace their Conversation; seeing their thoughts are not cum­bred with the conduct of Armies, the charge of the Magistracy, nor the hard study of Learning and Policy: their whole duty ought to be entirely im­ployed in a modest and vertuous comportment. It is that which renders them most amiable and lovely, and continues daily a Creation of new Charms, to honor and adore their beauty.

[Page 146] But besides this general reason, there are many others, which justifie her actions to have been most detestable: Shee was not only of that sex, to whom Chastity and Modesty is a Vertue necessary and essential, but above these degrees; she was a Queen, wife to a famous King; a Prince, who passionately loved her, and so honoured her as to put a Crown upon her head; towards which, had not her Princes favour invited her she durst not have presumed to have lifted up her eyes, A Throne is a place of Majesty, so highly elevated, that as on the Sun, it is not to be lookt on by a Subject, but with stupor and admiration; and a Crime approaching towards it, is not to be endured. That place is sacred, and not to be prophaned; so base, so foul an attempt to come near so illustrious a presence, cannot, ought not to be excused. Kings in their greatest weakness may not digest so foul an in­jury: There are alwayes some pretences at hand to shadow and cover faults and errors. If Princes be debonaire, they are flattered as peaceful and gentle; if weak, as kind and indulgent; if cruel, they are accounted more severe and jealous of their Authority; if they have the Art to rule and reign, they are esteemed subtle; to have much of the Fox, and to be pru­dent. Thus Kings in their authority are attended with Apologies, and their Power brings to them fair glosses for all their actions: But if a Queen lose her honour and reputation, there is no cure for such a wound, there is nothing to be said more, but that she deserves to be removed from the Throne and cast into her Tomb; where her crimes and infamie may be buried with her: which were the more notorious in her, because she was advanced from so low a Quality, to be so great a Princess: And ha­ving stained her honour, nothing can be able to expiate her offence, but the streams of her own blood. The love of her Prince was not passionate to an ordinary degree, but to a kind of Idolatry; and consequently, her mo­desty should have respected the majesty of the Throne. And if the qua­lity of her husband had not been sufficient to have obliged her to Vertue, and Fidelity; the abundance of his ardent affection might have charmed her to mutual tenderness: And if this passion could not prove predomi­nant in her soul; the relations of her husband, her servant, and her King, who had courted her with a Crown, might have inveloped entirely, and swallowed up her ambition. And should not all these Engagements have merited her acknowledgments; and preserved her from defiling the Roy­al Bed, and so to dishonour her self and disoblige her Prince? No, all these obligations were too feeble for this inconstant and immodest wretch. This woman advanced to be a Queen, though the Soveraign mistress of my soul whom I crowned gloriously with mine own hands, became an In­fidel to my favours, and her own faith; and fell so low, that she lodged within the Cabinet of her heart, those unworthy persons, who deserve not to be named, but as to make up an Aggravation in their mutual offences. Shee (I say) who knew well with what Contestations I wrestled to obtain her Coronation, and saw to what dangers and scorn I exposed my self for the love of her: Neither considered the Laws of God nor man; slighted the peace and prosperity of my Kingdom, regarded not the repose of my People, but stained her own honour, and my content and Glory. Although I repudiated Queen Katharine, who was a vertuous and Immaculate Lady; and caused her Death by this second marriage, whereby I drew upon me the rage and envy of the Emperour, irritated the Pope, and seemed to scorn the Alliance with the Crown of France, proposed to me by the Cardinal of York, my Creature and Favourite, whom I disobliged and provoked [Page 147] to desert my service; by whose Ministry and conduct, I so mightily pro­spered: Though the exigencie of Affairs transported my passion, and ob­scured my reason; so that I became A disturber of Religion, Sacrilegious, violent, and cruel to my Subjects; and grew so resolved as to serve mine own lusts and Inclinations, causing a violent change; wherewith transpor­ted, I cruelly put to death one of the chiefest of all my Subjects, the Lord Chancellor Sir Thomas More; and to prostrate all things in my kingdom to the pleasure of my self and Mistress; and therefore renouncing Justice and paternal tenderness, preferred Elizabeth daughter of Anne Bullen, before Mary the daughter of Queen Katharine; And so carrying on my designs in a tempest of Passion, I removed all things out of the way that might seem to resist and oppose my expectations: I punished some with exile, others with imprisonment, and some with death: Yet after all these Circumstances and pledges of my love, this base and ingrate person razed me out of her affection; forgot the debt she owed me, and which she ought to have paid to her own honour, and violently forced me (which neither honour nor reason could resist) to cause that head cut off which I had for­merly crowned. But (O heavens) can King Henry possibly consent, that she, whom he conducted to the Throne, should ascend a Scaffold to lose her head? And that she who kept my heart soveraignly in her power, should submit and lay down the greatest Beauty in my Kingdom to be struck off by the hand of an Executioner? Oh no, these my thoughts are terrible, the way forlorn, though the crimes are odious; the person is love­ly whom I once so honoured; and cannot be sentenced to die, but with much regret. It will be a sad spectacle to see her bathed in her own bloud whom I have so tenderly embraced; will it not be sufficient to imprison her person, who hath so wantonly abused her liberty? May not her life in a Prison afflict her, and better teach her the difference which she enjoyed in the liberty and honour of a Throne? Will not her remorse for her faults be to her as bitter as death, and prove a Correction severe enough? 'Tis true, this use may be made of her alteration: But shall I let slip or suf­fer to dye my former Princely resolutions? No, I know too well, that of­fended honour grows implacable; her satisfactions are impossible, she must perish, my Injuries must have revenge; and her death must prepare my better repose, when she shall cease to be alive. Time will raze her Image out of my memory, and then I shall be more free from the passions of love and fear. Besides, the resolutions which I take, are not only the effects of revenge, but rules and reasons of Policy: For there are a sort of enemies, who either ought not to be accused, or if they be, they are not to be pardoned: And prudent Princes are obliged to consider, whether those whom they pardon can be ever able to hurt and offend them. Policy teacheth them to depend more securely on their own power, then on a penitent offenders promise. And may I, in this case, regard the desires of Anne Bullen, and so dissimu­late her crime, and let her pass unpunished? Or having accused and im­prisoned this offendor, were it not greater policy to destroy her? When I so much doted, and adored her, she might have found opportunity to have been malitious or desperate, to have used Poniard or Poison to my person: Perhaps she may make an escape out of Prison, and (with her Par­tizans) levy Arms against me in some part of my kingdom. But you will tell me that Anne is committed to an inaccessible Tower, where the Guards are as faithful and couragious as vigilant, that she is rather hated then loved of my Subjects; who never had the least approbation, but ra­ther [Page 148] odium and scorn for her marriage, and therefore (probably) she may be less dangerous and offensive. Yet the Tower where she is committed, though strong, may be too weak to keep her: As for the guards, they may be suborned and corrupted. The Artifice and Inchantments of a woman, and she a Queen, and miserable, and unfortunate, are temptations too apt to provoke her to all malicious inventions, and hardly to be resisted in her sex (too inclinable to mischief and revenge:) Besides, Compassion opera­teth on the most obdurate hearts; And Female tears, like soft drops (con­stantly distilling) will in time work into tempers as hard as stones. And (I believe) it is far more easie to guard securely the wildest Tygers and most Savage Lions, then a fair and beautiful Lady: These fierce creatures are safe if their Cages and Dens be strongly traversed with iron bars, strong dores, and locks: But a Beauty, the more she is loaded with chains, the more she moveth her Keepers and Guards to compassion: Her tears (in her afflicti­on) her groans and sighs will prove no less possible to corrupt and inchant her Jailors, then the greatest rewards and recompences: and therefore her hopes will be fresh every day to gain her enlargment, if not from my cle­mency, yet from her corruptible and compassionate Guards. Besides, since her advance to the Throne, she hath had golden opportunities to heap up vast sums of treasure; which (perhaps) she hath secretly prepared to supply her misfortunes, in case they should assault her. And 'tis true, Keys made of gold do often open iron gates; and it is to be suspected that beams of beauty, attended with sad complaints of injury, sighs and tears, pro­mises and presents, may open strong dores, intoxicate vigilant Souldiers, and by female craft and subtile devises, Anne may procure her liberty, and so gain more opportunity to endeavour mischief, and raise future troubles. I know well that my people love her not, and if she could escape her Prison, she could not but with much difficulty find any succour or Azile, yet my jealousie and reason tells me, that if the people have no kind ness for her, the Grandees of my Kingdom would be glad to countenance and engage in a Faction with her. And I do not think it possible, that if this perfidious and ingrate soul should address to any part of my kingdom, but that she might endanger the most faithfull of my subjects either to compassion or compartnership in some new and disloyal design against me: my reign hath not been so free and calm from troubles, but that a little breath of potent malice and discontent might quickly stir up the Waves and Billows of violent Commotions. And if this fair Beauty should pro­strate her self to the most loyal Governor within any Forts of my King­dom; when he should see a Queen at his feet, with tears in her eyes, blub bering Beauty it self, and a heart ready to break with discontent; breath­ing out nothing but sighs and groans, he could not possibly but be apt to believe, and then tenderly to relieve a distressed Lady; The same force and sweetness inchanting his heart, which bewitched mine. From this tenderness, kindness and respect would spring; and from that, ar­dent desires to serve her: And then Hope and Ambition, the two wings that support new aspirings, might transform loyalty to observation of Anne: And this error (not resisted) nor weighed in the ballance of Reason) may change a loyal Subject of Henry the eighth, into a Vassal and Slave of Anne Bullen. The confusions and ruines of Kingdoms arrive not always through the ambition of Neighbour-Princes, or through the hatred or division of the People; Fond love and violent passions have their share often in great disorders; And they who extinguish not the sparks of these fi [...]es (if the [Page 149] flames grow high) are apt to put Kingdoms into as great Combustion, as the most formidable Invasions. We resolve then to take a course with this enemie; and disarming her, render her incapable not to offend us. The suborning of my Guards, and seducing my Subjects, is not only the disservice that she may prove capable to effect: for who knows (if I suffer her to live) but that in process of time, I may grow so feeble, as to dote on that beauty, which I so much admired, and be inamoured with her; and admitting her discourse, be charmed with her Syrenian voice? And yeilding a delightfulness to her company, be so transported with affection, as to forget all her Injuries and Treason, which never appeared in her coun­tenance nor deceitful looks. She is still fair and lovely; and though she hath lost her prosperitie, hath guarded her beautie: and my heart hath been so long subject to her Laws, that she may have a possibility to be as great a Tyrant over me as ever; and then (in that condition) what revenge might not her malice execute? Judge then (my Lord) how great would be my shame, and how odious my infamy; what my People would say, and how bitterly murmur: certainly excusing her as innocent, and con­demning my self as most Tyrannical and unjust. If I should admit of such a vicissitude, and suffer Anne to be admitted to my company, and to return to the Throne. No, (my Lord) we resolve not to expose royal Majesty to any such unworthy hazard and adventure. That which I permitted and approved in my first grace and favour, is an example warranted by many Illustrious Princes, and not excepted against by the most scrupulous and most vertuous Moralists. The Emperour Theodosius courted Athenais to his royal Throne, who was the daughter of an humble and grave Philoso­pher: This was not the first time when Beauty was crowned by the hands of Love and Fortune; yet the same Theodosius, upon a meer suspition and slight conjecture, made no difficulty to put Paulina his wife to death, whom he had loved so passionately, and to exile the Empress notwithstand­ing the appearance of her Innocency. It is so true that Purity and Cha­stity are so absolutely necessary in Princes. If Theodosius then thus pro­ceeded with his Athenais: What? may I not justifie my severest displea­sure against Ann Bullen, being one whose crime is notorious; and those who were her Partizans now imprisoned equally guilty? Whose crimes were as friendless as foul; and could not find an Intercessor for Clemen­cy; much less Orators and Advocates to plead for their Justification. Let us not forget then (in this re-encounter) how there ought to be no tenderness for odious offenders; and that the glory of a State ought to be the prin­cipal aim and end of Royal Actions. If this injurious and unworthy Queen had made a Faction, and publickly raised a party against me in my Kingdom, or had attempted my person openly, her crime might have been more pardonable: I might have lookt upon her as a person of greater spirit, and therefore less capable to brook the conceit of an injury; and possibly her reconciliation might have been more safe and glorious: All subjects who make revolts (either seduced or being fomenters) are not alwayes exterminated. Those who adventure in Conspiracies and (in their black designs) aim at taking away the life of the Prince, do not alwayes perish; there are reasons why (in some Conjunctures) crimes are wink'd at, and dissimulated, and sometimes pardoned as well as punished. But as for the ugliness of this offence, it hath not only injured the Prince, but prophaned his Throne, dishonoured Royalty, violated Divine and Humane Lawes, and by her Incest and Adultery, she hath so corrupted the Fountain that [Page 150] the streams will glide with nothing but shame and sin from age to age, to the last posterity. This is an evil which cannot be tollerated, an Ulcer so incureable, that nothing but her life and bloud (which caused it) can satis­fie: all other remedies are unserviceable, and not to be administred. In this occurrence it is aequitable that I be Judge and Accuser in the same thing: and 'tis as absolutely necessary that I abandon pity and forget all former affection; and close mine eyes from the rayes of that Beauty, and my ears from that Harmonious voice which so mightily had inchanted me. It is for this reason that I resolve not to look on that lovely object, whose crimes had so soiled her former purity, that I shall raze her memory out of my heart: and (at least) by that means cause, that posterity shall not con­tinue my shame and her offence. By all these reasons we may easily judge that the life of this unthankful creature, could neither be for my content nor honor. Besides these, there is a principal respect due to my People; which is not of an inconsiderate consequence: their importunities are for a Successor, a King: they fear (if I die) that they shall have a Queen to reign over them: and (notwithstanding) their ardent desires for a Prince of Wales) I beleive they are not passionate to have that Prince the son of Anne Bullen. This is another consideration of such Importance, as I can­not but take care to remove this invincible obstacle, intending so much the publique felicity of the People: so that it is impartially necessary that she perish to prepare a way to the Peoples greater good, and the Kings greater glory. There is this advantage more in this design, that little or no trou­ble will survive to revenge her death. As for those who opposed her mar­riage, they will not ranke themselves in Arms to fight her quarrel; and seeing Death is accustomed to disarm Beauty, that of Anne Bullen can do no more then a beam of the Sun when it is ready to set, shine a while, and be no more seen. In such a dress She and her Beauty will go together to the Grave, and there be buried in oblivion and dust. But what shall I say? I cannot but be assured that her Memory and Image will be much in my Fancie and Presence, though she be absent, and interred in obscurity. May I not then fear, least I should repent the Sentence, and sorrow for the Exe­cution? The Policy of Herod was no less fortified then mine, and his heart no less tender; his fancie was wounded, which represented unto him his Mariamne, who was less criminal then her, of whom I have so justly complained. Notwithstanding he repented of her death, he wept, he grieved; his Fancie was ever followed with her Image; he lost all content and repose, and (at last) submitted to wish, that Death had faln on him which he executed upon her. I may then justly fear the exposing of my self to such a continued torment of my Fancy and Imagination; and not rashly pronounce that sentence (which executed) is irrevokable. And yet there is a great difference and distinction betwixt the proceedings of this Politician and my self: Mariamne was not only his wife, but his So­veraign and Queen; and though he were her love and husband, yet he was her subject, and a Tyrant, and (consequently) he ought to have had more regard and remorse, and not to have acted but with greater Wisdom, and more sage precaution: but (on the contrary) I am a King, her Love, and a husband inraged and abused, by one who was my Subject, and to whom I gave a Crown: finding then my spirit not capable to digest so great af­fronts, I will banish the suspicions of fear; and being a King (though a Husband) I shall take heed that I fall not into such a base and ignoble re­pentance. No, no, my soul is now free from the irregular passion of Love, [Page 151] and will not admit those false delusions to trouble my Fancy: Her crime hath destroyed her innocency, and her offence will more probably appear before my memory, then her Beauty so foulely stained. I shall look upon her (as I ought) without prejudice to Justice and Glory; and therefore conclude, that it is necessary she die; yet if I should deprive her of the Crown without the retrenchment of her head, and so render her into her first condition, it may be that Love which I had once for her, might plead for the continuance of her life; but as she is a Crowned Queen, and Mother to my Daughter Elizabeth, I cannot safely depose her from the Throne, but I must force her to her Tomb; and when she descends from the one, she must not stop till she fall into her Grave. I doubt not but posterity will be divided in their judgment in the examination of this Action: some will say that Henry was cruel, others that he was stout and generous; but after the variety of Censures, it is certain that Kings must act as Glory councels them; which ought to be far above, and out of the reach of Fear and Scandal. It appears then to all the world that it was not by a violent precipitation, which hatred might suggest that I have proceeded to this resolution; Jea­lousie did not so enrage me as to have recourse to Poison, or a Poniard; so to have dispatched this infamous Woman by mine own hand: no, if she dye, the Laws do judge her, and her own crime condemn her; and if I have contributed any thing to her fall, it is a progress without injustice or reproach; seeing that I was so passionate for her, as to choose her Mistress of my Heart, there to serve her; and in that affection my heart command­ed my hand to set a Crown upon her head. These circumstances (doubt­less) do declare and manifest Anne more culpable to all the World. But my first and last actions were not grounded on the same intentions; I pro­posed the Crown (which I bestowed upon her) should have made her glorious, not infamous; and should have inspired into her the apprehensions of a Queen, and not have rendred her a person odious and abominable: but seeing I am deceived in my Conjectures, it is just that I be punished for my error, which her beauty caused me to fall into. Clemency (on this occa­sion) is a vertue too indulgent, and not to be used, unless Justice were to be extruded out of dores; and pity, in this case, were to disarm and dis­grace Royal Authority. 'Tis true, Severity is terrible, but Indulgence and an inclination to Clemency more dangerous: when a Prince is injured, and great Estates may be destroyed by either, unseasonably practised, and (as we see) how the most gentle Rivers do very great mischief when they overflow their bounds, as well as impetuous and violent Torrents: So (in like manner) excessive Clemency may be as offensive as the severest Cru­elty. As I am not then in this action justly to be accused of too much fondness, so, nor of too much fury: for if Anne Bullen had not changed, I had been the same as I was in my espousals, and when I solemnized her Coronation with so much honour and joy; and if she had not faln to be disloyal, she should not have found her Grave so suddainly. Now as to the two Vertues, Justice and Clemency; the first most firmly supporteth the Kings Throne, and without it the Royal Authority is shaked to nothing in an instant, and she is most essential to support the Crown and Scepter: Clemency may be sometimes called to the Councel, but the presence of Justice is more absolutely necessary. In this Act then (my Lord) admire not if I proceed as the glory and renown of a King requires, as the Laws or­dain; and with that resolution which my passion and reason cannot be admitted to plead against. It must be so then, that this miserable wretch [Page 152] cannot be exempted from the punishment she hath merited; she must not longer have any harbor in my heart, there being no person or Argument to intercede for her defence; her most detestable Brother hath shamefully con­fest his horrid crime, his companions are become his Accusers, her own conscience convinceth her, my great favours aggravate her reproaches, the memory of her prosperity doth torment her, the fear of her punishment doth cause her to tremble, the representation of her fault (so shameless and unparallel'd) covers her with confusion: what remains then, but to bring her to Execution, where she may make (if possible) reparation to mine honour: where let the ungrateful wretch have an ignominious death, and die with such disadvantage, as to have no monument in my memory, but what she has with all the World, Scorn and Hatred: let her bloud de­face those Characters of Love, which were so profoundly engraved in my soul, and (forgetting all her dalliances of Love and Beauty) let us sacri­fice her and them to our Honour and Renown.

The CENSƲRE.

AS for this particular Action towards Anne Bullen, it meeteth with dou­ble Censures; as well of those who approve, as those who condemn and dislike the Action. As to the Parallel betwixt this Prince and Herod, and so betwixt Mariamne and Anne Bullen, it seems not so just and reasonable; for Herod was not as Henry, a King by birth, but by Mariamnes means and fa­vours; and as for the two Queens, Mariamne was innocent and vertuous, but Anne criminous and guilty. And therefore this violent Prince was less unjust (though severe) because Majesty was so offended. The Royal Bed ought to be kept as sacred and inviolable as the Imperial Throne; and of the two, the first is to be attended with stricter and more vigilant Guards: as for the Scepter, it may be wrested and forced out of the Princes hand without dishonour; and it may be recovered again with advantage of greater renown: but the the Royal Bed once stained, doth not only enrage the Prince, but the People; and that injury spreadeth to a poison, which can find no Antidote: and it staineth Majesty so deeply, as the Spot never to be washed out. Therefore the Romans concluded, that it was not only necessary for Caesars Queen to be chast and innocent, but free from Calumny and all Censure, and above the reach of Scandal, which is an inseperable companion of Suspicion. And if Julius Caesar repudiated his Queen on a bare jealousie, how intolerable is reproach and infamous scandal? much more odious then, is the crime of loosness and incon­tinency; The only Spot that stuck on Augustus his Successor (when he was mounted far out of the reach of the cruel decrees of the Triumvirate) 'twas that he espoused Livia, being she was great with child, and after she was divorced from Drucius Nero her husband, from thence sprang that tart ralliarie amongst the Romans, That all those whom Fortune favours, may have such successes as to have children within three months after marriage. Tyberius his adop­ted son and Successor to the Empire, was more sensible of his honour; who re­pudiated Julia, Augustus daughter, banished her from Rome; and having branded her name with the mark of eternal infamy, condemned her to dye an exile, and there to bury her crime and shame. This Grand Politician well un­derstood that all injuries to Princes are intolerable, but crimes of such infamy [Page 153] and dishonour, are to be punished with the most seasonable and severest revenge: and that the least favor or mitigation to offences of this nature, are as impar­donable, as odious and dangerous. There is nothing so much obscureth the Sun, as when it is eclipsed by the Moon: and the disgrace is as great as the discon­tent, when a Queen is false to her Lord and Soveraign. Besides, the dangers are imminent, and consequences very fatal. The extravagant marriage of Caligula manifesteth this to all the world; who having espoused Cesonia, his Court was speedily corrupted with great disorders, which introduced and brought in shameful consequences in the Government of the Empire: but if impudencie ever swelled to an excess and outcry, and that vice met with equal stupid patience to tolerate it, if not to give it countenance; it was when that immodest and vicious Messalina was the espouse and wife of dull and igno­ble Claudius; during whose reign, her deportment was as lascivious and vile, as he was unworthy and altogether base. And History only takes notice of them as horrid disgraces to the times they lived in. And this was not all, Messalina dared to quit Claudius and married another, which high affront the Emperour endured: but after a long and prodigious insensibility, he awaked at last, and put Messalina to death; and so terminated her life and her dishonour. If Mar­cus Aurelius the Philosopher were more uxorious and kind to his wife Fausti­na (though she was a most irregular and extravagant woman) it is to be thought that his Philosophy was too much Stoical; and such dull stupidity be­came not an Emperour, who had the Domination of the World. We may then conclude, that Henry the Eight did not act against the maxims of Policy, Ju­stice, or Reason in punishing this infamous offender, and if he gave occasion to the world to blame him for his six marriages; and by reason of his outrages towards Churchmen, and great troubles in the change of Religion; yet in this lawful revenge▪ as well as in many other Acts of famous memory) he merits the testimony of honour and renown; and seeing that for his book against Lu­ther, the Pope honoured him with the glorious title of Defensor Fidei: It is an argument that the Actions of great Kings, are not to be censured with rash­ness and precipitation: for they are as some eminent Stars which move in such a Sphere, as all the world do not perceive; and as their condition is separated and transcendent to others, so these visible Earthly Gods have their reasons and resolutions apart. Such another was that famous Prince Pepin King of France, who hath been censured and condemned, and his means and wayes reputed as unjust, and utterly unlawful to the Throne, and his reign an Usurpation: but if we will listen to the reasons which he spake for his de­fence, and as an Apologie for the great change of affairs; we may (perhaps) alter our judgments, and not prejudicate Princely actions. Let us then leave the discourse of Henry the Eighth of England, and hear what Pepin plead­eth for his justification, who took the Crown of France from off the head of the last of the race of Clovis the Grand, and place that Royal Diadem on his own head.

King PEPIN TO THE ARCHBISHOP OF MAIENEE.

THE Acclamations of the People were so general and loud; then, when you annointed me and gave me the Crown as a present from the States and Gran­dees of the Kingdom, that those Ec­choes of joy and exulation resound­ed throughout all Europe, and all parts of the Earth are well satisfied that Childrick (being not longer able to support the Royal Scepter) I was impetuously constrained to take it in­to my hands, and forced with a kind of violence, to endeavour the preser­vation of that Glorious and Royal Throne; and not to suffer it to fall with shame and infamie. And yet (perhaps) many thousands are not sa­tisfied with those Motives and Reasons which pressed me to those high resolutions: and it is a debate judiciously to be examined, Whether I was rather to accept, or refuse the Supreme and Soveraign power of this King­dom; the action not meerly reflecting upon my self, but likewise with the effects of much good or evil on the people; and so consequently, with glory or dishonour redundant to my self in those mighty undertakings. In this Conjuncture, a Prince ought to be furnished with all advantages of Pru­dence as well as of Valour and Resolution. Those who onely judge of content by the external appearance of glistering objects, ambitiously and rashly reach at any thing that appeareth Glorious; but an Imperial Diadem is not to be accepted, but by such great Heroes whose vertues can more illustrate a glorious Crown. We see that Infants and ignorant persons cannot gather the blushing Roses without danger of pricking their fingers with those little Thorns; which like natural Guards, wait on those scarlet flowers. As for me (whose Ancestors have imployed their lives to support the Throne, whereon I am seated) I am not ignorant how that all their endeavours were intirely devoted for the preservation of the self same Crown. And I cannot but confess, that I am obliged to be as diligent and active, and so most strictly to examine my abilities in managing the high affairs of a Kingdom, [Page 155] in which I shall not leave out any Circumstance that may render my self more capable, or the Throne more honourable. 'Tis true; I am not so for­tunate as Augustus, who had the friendship and councel of Mecaenas and Agrippa, to advise in the danger of my weighty occasions: And yet I shal not fail to examine up, and search into every corner of my soul, to present my condition more fit for so Princely an Office; and ballance all reasons judiciously, which may either perswade me to, or remove my thoughts from the acceptance of the Royal Robe; and I shall severely scan all proba­ble disputes, that my judgment and reason may gain the greater victory: and if I have received the Crown, I doubt not but I shall make it appear that my Vertues have merited much, as well as my birth; and it is not an Addition to be sleighted, that in receiving of the Diadem, I have had so long and so serious a contestation with mine own soul. You know well, the solemn dayes of Triumph are better Registred, then easily to slip out of memory; and you were then my Remembrancer, that I should declare my resentment and reasons, why I embraced the Crown; that the people as well as my self, might more clearly understand why I became their Soveraign, and they my Subjects. To satisfie this great curiosity (I con­fess) when I look upon the height of the Royal condition and quality of a King, I beheld it as those who have in their view a dangerous precipice; and I did not lightly and ambitiously so much aspire to more transcendent Eminencie; but likewise prudently consider the varieties of dangers of so high a place: and when I held the Scales of both Honour and Danger in my hands, and poised them both together; I discerned so many troubles and cares, travels, hardships, wars, and so many secret discontents follow­ing Royalty at her heels, that through mine own contestations and debates, without farther disputes, I found it most rational to repulse the motion and proposition of the Supreme Dignitie, and beheld it as an enemy to my pri­vate repose, and no friend (probably) to my future Glory. But in a se­cond reflection (the first notions being corrected by the latter) when I considered that what was proposed, aimed at the conservation of a mighty Monarchy, I could not but admit my reason to farther consultation, re­solving if any misfortune should arrive through my faults and errors, I should be only responsible to the great Governour of all the Universe; who requires from none an account, but of those Talents that he bestows upon them, and in this trust I resolved not to fail. I began then more closely and attentively to pursue those great affairs; but in this Commence­ment, I considered with my self, as my Grandfather Pepin, and illustrious Charls my Father, consulted with themselves: The first would never be perswaded to entertain the thoughts of Soveraigntie; and the second did refuse it with the title of King; and would not accept of it but to be stiled The French Prince: these times and symptoms seemed to presage an alte­ration; and yet there was no appearance that the Subjects were willing to change their Master. Besides, for many years the Throne was not enjoyed but by Princes of more incapable and weaker judgments to reign and go­vern: so that from the reign of Dagobert the first, whose justice va­lour, and pietie, were more considerable; the Clovises, the Clotairs, the Childericks, the Theodoricks, and the Childeberts, and Dagobert himself the second, rendred the State into such pitiful conditions, that if the Major of the Pallace had not been found more capable to rule and govern, it had not been, but that the Kingdom had faln oftner then once into the hands of Foreigners, Strangers, or Enemies. Notwithstanding Pepin was con­tented [Page 156] to serve his Master, and to obscure and support his infirmities. It may be there are some who would say, that this service was for self advan­tage, and to lay the foundations of his own Royal Family; but what could he do otherwise, but as a good and faithful Subject, causing Justice and Piety to flourish; and so to attribute the Renown to his Prince during his reign. But a continuation of this service was impossible; neither would the People be satisfied, where the Prince was so dull, and such errors and dishonour in the Government. It was by my means that the Duke of Fryze (that Pagan) was vanquished; and afterwards obliged to be bap­tized, and become Christian: that the Bishop of Utrecht was re-establish'd, whom Ebroin had chased from his Episcopal Chair; and that the Almains (on both sides the Rhein) who levied their Forces against the Crown of France, were subdued: and what endeavours were not used to keep the Mo­narchy from an utter desolation; and to restore it to its Pristine Splen­dor and Honor. And if Pepin (in all these actions) did not propose and fancie Royaltie in the success of so many atchievements; he were ingrate as well to his fortunes as to his vertues. Charls Martel was not so confined, who (what ever he did) conceived he merited, and expected honour both from Prince and People. And yet whilst these affairs were in action the wayes and means were facile and easie to him to have mounted the Throne. And 'tis true that incomparable Valour accompanied with Pru­dence, Justice, Generositie, Clemencie, Moderation, Piety, and good Success, may boldly attempt any thing: Notwithstanding some may say, that he drove a nail into the Wheel of Fortune; and (maugre the Infirmity of Dagobert, C [...]ilprick, and Chiderice, (under whom he served) or (to speak more properly) under whom he reigned) he made then a scruple to enter­tain and take a Scepter out of their hands, from whom God himself had seemed to snatch it; having given them over to their vices and irregula­rities: which introduced all vileness into the Kingdom, and therefore threatned a fatal desolation. I do solemnly profess the two examples of my Grandfather and my Father had almost prevailed with me, to make me resolve to die, and lay my fortune at Childricks feet, though I saw the Throne in an apparent ruine; and if I had not been charmed from those thoughts by the importunity and universal suffrages of the people, I had certainly perished, and been buried under the Ruines of that Throne. The in­juries which I must act to my lawful Prince (though he were never so weak, and therefore less reverenced by his Subjects) did torment my thoughts, and I could not but conjecture that the end might be as miserable, as the way and means unjust and injurious; and if I attempted to ascend the Throne by the Deposing of my lawful Prince, I should not be of better reputation with the people, then an Usurper: and it is a vulgar conclusion, He who is an Usurper to his Master, cannot but be a Tyrant to his Subjects. Be­sides, the people wil then censure that all the services of Pepin my Grandfa­ther, and Charls my Father, were nothing else but politique Arts and means to undermine the Crown; and so more easily to derive it on their posterity. These thoughts allayed the heat of my ambition, and retarded that vio­lence which hurrieth most mens desires in the obtaining of Soveraign pow­er. Besides, if I assume the Title of King, may not those hands who lift me up, pull me lower then ever I was? may they not dispute against my merits and qualities as not agreeing with Princely dignity? or may they not be outragious, and charge me with ignobleness and ingratitude, and murmur at all rewards, as not proportionable to their demerits and service? if so many [Page 157] admirable qualities are necessary for a legitimate and lawful Prince, what abilities can render a Subject fit to reign? As for those who were my e­quals in condition and merit, though they have carried me on their shoul­ders and lifted me to the Crown, they cannot but speedily repent, unless they therefore elevated me to so high a precipice, that my fall might be more certain, more suddain, and more dangerous: and who have been born and lived with me under the same Prince, and same Laws, (the Sub­jects common birth-right) how can they submit that I should be their Su­preme and Head, who have been my superiors or companions? may not such an ambition stain the reputation of all my former services with disho­nour and infidelity? and that instead of concealing or supporting the in­firmities of Childrick, I intended nothing but a direct establishment of Tyranny in Pepin. Besides all this, will not these courses give a special advantage to neighbour Princes for Invasions, and raise immortal Factions with the Grandees of this Kingdom; and would not this way foment and cherish a foreign and a civil War? and did I not by these actions pro­voke the whole world to an odium of me, and to devise conjurations against my life, honor, and posterity? I am not ignorant that many Sages (mention­ed in Antiquity) have refused royal Crowns. And when I come to consider my self, if I receive the Scepter, I cannot but lose the fidelity of my choicest friends, because they are not now my equals, and of friends they must be rendered flatterers, and slaves to my Fortunes; and if I shall expose my self to be seduced by their cunning Artifice, who inveagle and inviron Kings with their smooth Arguments, and so be corrupted to admit injuries and in­justice: I shall but prepare every one whom I should command, to curse me with their Tongues, or strike me with their hands. Moreover seeing Princes are subject to all errors and misfortunes in Government, I may lose my reputation, and be branded with the vices of cruelty and violence; or else be accused and thought guilty of rashness, ignorance, and impru­dence. These consequences cannot but provoke great numbers of secret, as well as publique enemies; and ('tis oft seen) that discontents can unite all parties in the destruction of an object generally hated. These reasons may deter my resolutions from the acceptance of a Crown; which high degree is too apt, not only to raise many enemies, but to create their rage and en­vy to be implacable: and if subjects interpret the greatest bounty of their Prince but a debt or (perhaps) a reward too little to satisfie their expectati­on: how insatiable will the Subjects be in their demands from such a Prince, whom they have advanced from their own condition? They common­ly conclude that Kings are but the great Treasurers of their Kingdoms, and therefore are obliged to largeness and bounty; and 'tis usual that a denyal or a repulse (in the least or greatest matter) provoketh bitter mur­murings or publique outrages. Nay, they conclude that Kings are obliged (by Divine Right) to give all that they possess, and as the Ocean receiv­ing her vast Tributes from the Inland Rivers, returneth the waters by se­cret passages, which break up in boiling Fountains and pearling Springs; so they argue, Princes who receive the publique Tributes of the People, are but trusted to preserve them untill they be to be refunded and more abun­dantly paid back again. In this similitude it is observable, that although the Sea do give leave that some few Fountains do break up, and so water some places of the earth, yet she is unthankful as to the general; and leaveth many vast parts, for want of moisture, to be altogether steril and barren: and thus Princes, though they may oblige some friends and favourites [Page 158] with the Dew and drops of their bounty; yet the many thousands of the people not relishing of their liberality, rather become their enemies then humble and obliged Subjects. In this argument what froward appre­hensions will possess the People, who are too resolute to interpret a right of all things in themselves; and that their Prince, as the Sea, is obliged to return the waters more clear and sweet, which his vast power hath imbit­tered and rendred less pleasant and more unwholsome. And although I have alledged so many reasons for my refusal of a Crown; yet these which follow, appear more of force, farther to disswade my Resolutions: for as I am not a King, so neither am I the son of one; which I conceive as the greatest obstacle in this design: I know that I have some drops of Royal bloud streaming in my veins; and (though far remote) can claim a rela­tion of kindred to Clovis the Grand: and though I may not be so near in bloud, yet I am not so remote from his vertues and merit as Childerick: which consideration doth a little more suppress all scruple and niceness. But how can I dare to approve the acclamations of the People, in that which I fear and dislike in my self? my Ambition is to thinne a cover to disguise and veil the Truth it self; and my inquietude (in this contestation) as it is restless in my brest, so it is unexpressible in my language; And on one side, I see a Throne staggering and ready to fall; a feeble and vitious Prince, who through his Vices and weakness hath shaken the foundations of a Royall Kingdome: I see the People generally in Commotions, and the more Couragious already armed; and in their jealousies and indignation. I saw their eyes chiefly fixed and directed towards me, and all their Moti­ons point towards my self as the Center of Royalty, and they were great with expectation for a Soveraign and King, worthy of their obedience and so glorious a Diadem. In this Conjuncture I cannot but observe the Symptoms of a mighty change; and in those apprehensions, I must not be injurious to my own fortunes: And (on the other side) I feel equitable intentions towards the People in the motions of mine own soul, concurring with their desires in my advance. And if in this great expectation I still supported the Debillities of my Master, I was not certain whether the peo­ple would longer suffer me to serve under his name: which consideration (if not prevented) as it might prove a certain ruine to Childrick; might (probably) hazard mine own Person, and the Kingdoms Peace. Seeing then the disorders of his life, and his Affairs were so irregular, and caused the Grandees to grow into Factions, and the Commons to murmur; and both resolved to quit and change their Master; I cannot find, but for the Kingdoms happiness (as well as for mine own renown) to use my utmost endeavours to govern so great a Kingdom; and so to preserve it from de­solation. If we look upon the whole Universe, all Countries and King­doms make up but one great body, and every particular Member is obliged to aid and assist the whole. It is thus in any one Royal Kingdom; all the Subjects are unanimously engaged to preserve the common good: and the Members cannot but be in confusion, and sick, if the Head be unsound; and if we consider those enormious vices of those two Princes, to whom my Grandfather Pepin, and Charls my Father did such eminent services; and what were the vertues of Charls and Pepin: it cannot but be confessed that our family hath most highly merited, both from King and People: and though the Descent, and right in bloud ought to be inviolable, and not to be interrupted; yet the vices and inability of Kings, may as well de­termine their reigns, as desolate and dissolve their Kingdoms: and the King [Page 159] of Kings who first advanced Princes to reign, can, when he pleaseth set a period to their successors. And as to my self, I am so well satisfied with the fa­vour of fortune, that as Subjects ought not to aspire to Crowns; so it a­grees with my honour not to refuse such a Dignity. The vanity may be as well in him who Stoically scorneth the splendor of Glory, as in him who ambitiously gapeth after it. And History telleth us, that those who did not accept Alexanders Presents, were as deeply accused of Pride, as (if they had received them) they might have been taxed with Avarice. See­ing then that I am premonished by the prevision of an universal desolation, that I am encouraged by the popular acclamations of the Subjects, that the people desire it, and the Kingdom is in a necessity and exigencie; I cannot but wrestle with some considerable Rights, and embrace the Sove­raignty, which is so sweet a Bait to human Ambition; and where the necessity is so absolute, I rather resolve (though with some injustice) to ascend the Throne, then see the Kingdom perish. And when I call to mind how this Monarchy was founded by the valour and courage of Pharamond, so much augmented by Meroijee, and rendred so formidable by Clovis the Grand; and after so many incomparable Princes, now ready to be ruined, and to fall into the barbarous hands of Saracens and Pagans: I am not longer amazed at my own boldness, nor can I plead against my own ambition, if I take upon me to be the Soveraign. And if Childrick must lose it, no Subject can be fitter then Pepin to wear the Crown of France; whose Ancestors (as well as himself) have so successfully served their Princes, and so affecti­onately gained the Peoples hearts. But I must yet examine, and have a scrutiny in the corner of mine own heart; whether I, who have been so faithful and good a subject, may not prove a Tyrannous and insufferable King; and so may not be suspected of injury and injustice to all the People, who have undermined and been so unworthy to my own Prince. To this I answer, The Prince ought to be as transcendent in worth above others, as he is in place and degree; and to strip himself of all predominant passi­ons, to love the Peoples good above his own; to do nothing injust, and not so much as to desire his own renown, but by the noble ascents of ver­tue: Kings ought to take pains and travail to make their Subjects repose more secure and sweet, to undertake the dangers of War; but with no o­ther end, but better to establish and settle a peace; and to imploy that peace, not in Riot and Luxury; but for a more exact course of Equity and Justice; and thereby to cause the kingdom to flourish, and vertues to shine and be triumphant. Likewise it is the office of Kings to try before they trust, least flatterers creep into great imployments, and indanger the Ruine of Prince and People; their power must not countenance them to be se­vere; nor their Plenty to be too indulgent, secure, and too much inclined to clemencie. The desires of a Throne ought to be principally for the Peoples good, and with no other design, but for the Princes honour and renown; which as the Sun, should send light and heat communicatively over all his Domination. And he who is invested with Majesty, ought to have none but clear and innocent intentions, and a soul, not by assed with sinister and ignoble ends; but with honourable inclinations to chastise the wicked, and to prefer and recompence vertuous and meritorious per­sons. For he whose Soveraignty sets him above the Laws, ought to have a soul more sublime and spiritual, then to be tainted with the gross Lees and feculencie of low and base things, as having wisdom and courage to confirm those bonds of humane Society, and so not to fear or violate [Page 160] those rules of peace & justice, which his own power hath formed or submitted unto. And as the Prince is to live above the reach of envy and fear, so is he not to prostitute his royal condition to Sycophants and flatterers, who are a kind of poysonous flyes, which will cause the sweetest odours and ointments quickly to stink; and if I now discerne (as being near the Throne) the breath of so much subtile poyson; what Arts and Craft will not be undertaken to deceive and delude, with golden language of Treache­ry and dissimulation, when I have the royal Scepter in my hand? As to this instant, I never met with any person, who dared to say to me; Accept not of the Crown. And if all persons have bin so compliant before my advance­ment to the Throne, how officious and obsequious will they appear, when I have the Scepter in my hands?

In the debate of these affairs, I meet with many invincible objections to disswade and discourage my resolutions; but fortune and my owne ambiti­on have put wings to my expectations, and kindled such a fire in my heart, as I cannot extinguish; and therefore I resolve to hazard my life, honour, and repose and abandoning fear, and suspition of dangers or dishonour, de­termine to accept the Crown, and wear the royal Robes; so to commend my self and successes to the favours of fortune: Those who are in the peril of naufrage, and to be shipwrackt in these tempestuous times, will be well pleas'd if by working at the helm, I preserve them from perishing in the angry waves: and if I be not so happy as to deliver them from danger, they will honour me for my adventures and endeavours. And if it so hap­pen and fall out, that my reign be more prosperous, then the irregular Go­vernment of Childerick, I shall be esteemed more innocent as well as more re­nowned; and those who have been my equals, will more contentedly become my humble and loyal Subjects; as for Competitours and Rivals in my fortune (if any) as I am able to step a degree before them, so I shall be more enabled (in that quality) to curb their insolency, or chastise their discontents: though the action be not justifiable, yet successful events may render it noble and honourable in the reputation of the world; and if the posterity of Pepin degenerate, grow effeminate, foolish and base, yet Pepin will be commended for his high attempts; and the weakness and misgo­vernment of Childerick and his Ancestors, will be a step to mount Pepin's honour to a higher estimation in all the Universe. It is true, I see not such Princely indowments in Charles my son, as to merit to wear a Crown, (though his natural parts are tolerable) and it will prove a greater task for Charles to follow Pepin, then for Pepin to follow Childerick; but who knows whether Pepin may not so deeply plant the foundations of respect in his subjects hearts, as not onely to reign himself, but to make fair way for Charles to be his successour; and if he improve not himself by his ver­tues and merits, nor cannot winn their suffrages; it is not inglorious for Pepin to be a King, though his son succeed him not: and yet I doubt not but to be able to remove that difficulty; for when I find my self to grow old or indisposed, I shall surrender the Crown to Charles, and his possession of so royal a fortune will (probably) raise him strength and forces to sup­port his Soveraingty; and when I am not fit to march in the field, I shall become his Councellor for the better conduct of his great affairs; and now if by deposing an unworthy and luxurious Prince, I be ranked amongst the usurpers of Crowns, the dishonour is the less, because the Kingdome required an alteration, and I cannot but reign with more security and less hatred. And if I have ascended by an usurpation, yet it was effected with­out [Page 161] a war, or violence, or causing a desolation to the Kingdome: And if Pharamond founded the Monarchy, and Meroije enlarged the domination, and Clovis demolished the Idol Altars; yet I shall be renowned for the protection of justice, innocency and vertue, and for the abandoning of the distructive vices of a luxurious Court and Kingdome. I propose these glorious designes to my self, which cannot but make my renown as im­mortal as that of the Cesars, when the subjects shall confess, that Pepin doth not only reign but gloriously, and that he is not so much feared as lo­ved; and that he did not ambitiously mount himself, but that the people passionately carryed and lifted him up to the throne of Childericke; and that it was not Pepin that made himself a King, but that the weakness of un­worthy Princes, the misgovernment & miseries of their reign, the services of Pepin's Ancestors, the suffrages of the People, together with Pepins owne vertues, and the will of Heaven, set the Crown on Pepins head: see (Sage Prelate) what were Pepins thoughts before he held the Royal Scepter, what were his resolutions when he sate on the Throne, and what he would have the world to think of him, when he had descended to his Tombe.

The CENSƲRE.

How strong soever the Arguments, and reasons of Pepin may appear, yet the effects of his intentions will prove better warrants for his actions, then his alegations & discourse for to get a Crown, to which none ought to dare to aspire▪ but he who is a man after Gods own heart; as it was Davids case, in deposing of wicked Saul The Priviledges of a royal birth are attended with somany difficul­ties, that who soever overcomes them cannot but be more then an extraordinary person. Tis true, the people are mutable and given to change, and voluntarily to seek new Masters, their judgement is not so profound, as to foresee what they usually lose by those alterations; a capricious angry wantonness quickly armeth them against their ancient Kings, but commonly they fight for others and not for themselves; and under the pretence of gaining greater privi­ledges, like Flyes in the Spiders web, are more intangled: and as for Princes, who have surreptitiously gained the Crown of others, it is impossible but that they must have as great dangers in the injoyment of them, as they had difficul­ties in ascending to them; for a Royal Scepter is onely supported by his hand, who measureth the earth, and weigheth the mountains in the Scales, with­out whose Providence a certain ruine is inevitable. New Princes cannot but dis­oblige new subjects, whether they are of the civil or martial garbe and order; the Souldiers are necessary to watch and guard to keep out fear and dangers; and their humours are generally very insolent, and not satisfied with common rewards, and therefore will be apt to murmur and grow mutinous; the civil part of the people will cry out as oppressed with new taxations, which are the necessary consequences of war, and therefore will incline to be seditious. Thus new dominations bring along with them the traine of miserable and provocative effects. A great Politician said (long since) that a Prince usurping a Throne, maketh all whom he injureth to be his enemies, and he is hardly able to preserve an amity even with those who have advanced him to the Throne, because their expe [...]ation is insatiable; and as for to use violent remedyes, it is impossible [Page 162] where his suspitions are so many, and his obligations so great. Subjects are apt to frown and murmur to see him who was once their equal, so highly elevated above them; and (although superiority have been the commencement of Mo­narchies long since, and are of a Divine foundation) yet to interrupt or sup­press a roy [...]l linnage, cannot be undertaken without the fear of as much dan­ger as dishonour: And whereas Pepin and Hugh Capet (being so highly born, and so great Generals) were so hardy and bold; It is to be conjectu­red, that they had rather an inspiration then ambition, whereby to follow the decrees of Heaven; and so free from common vanity, they rather re­ferred themselves to divine providence, then to an undiscreet desire to raign. The Royal Throne is so far above the fortune of a private person, that he who admitteth that ambitious indiscreet designe to be predominant in his soul, doth but gripe at Thrones, walk on a precipice, strives against the stream; and al­though he sail with the breath of fortune, and more violently for the present, yet his obstacles are so many and so certain, that the foundations of a Crown ex­ceeds Hercules labours, and under whose weight the greatest Hero is apt to lye down, and to be ground to powder. Atilla, who was stiled the Rod of God, as bad he was, may teach us that all Power comes from God, and that it conti­nueth no longer then he pleaseth. The Assyrians, Persians, Greeks, Parthi­ans, and Romans have reigned, and their vicissitudes instruct us, that he who never changeth, causeth an alteration of all things else according to his pleasure; and these great mutations arive for reasons unrevealed to us, and that God alone foreseeth all things who is invisible; let us then adore, on such occasions, whom we cannot comprehend: and seeing that we guide not the Helm of the great vessel of providence, let us adore and honour him who ru­leth all things: It is he who putteth the mighty from their seat, and exalteth the humble and meek. Thus alterations succeed in Empires and Kingdomes; and we may conclude that greater bodies (when God is pleased to permit it) have their revolutions and changes, as well as the least and smallest Creatures. Now the discourse changeth to Tamberlane the Emperour of the Tartars, who so tormented and ill treated Bajazet; which History acquainteth us with a more visible certainty of this truth, That God will have the proud humbled, and the humble exalted.

TAMERLANE Emperour of Tartarie called the wrath of God and terrour of the World, He overthrew and tooke prisoner BAIAZET Greate Emperour of ye Turks, shutting him vp in an Iron Cage: His Army consisting of 100000. men. He also Conquered Mesepotamia, Babilon, with the Kingdome of Persia. He died 1402


TAMBERLANE EMPEROR OF THE TARTARS, TO AXALLA HIS LIEVT. GENERAL.

YOU have effected such noble Atchiev­ments under my Standard Royal, or (to speak ingeniously) I have gained so much by your proper valour, that I cannot but be much amazed, that you who have been so great an instru­ment of my Glory, and so free a sha­rer in all my successes and triumphs, have not been so friendly as to take notice of me in my proceedings; and so to tax me of less judgment, who have sometimes been so extremely se­vere and rigorous, and sometimes so excessively merciful and indulgent. You might justly demand from me, what reasons perswaded me to imprison Bajazet within an iron Cage; and (at that time) to be so gentle to his sons, as not to inchain nor confine them, but to give them their Liberty, and treat an Emperor as a common Slave; not­withstanding I so frankly remitted all those Prisoners and Slaves which I took at Caramania. I answer, (Axalla) you have been my General, my Com­panion, and my Friend; yet you have not so deeply sounded and fathomed the bottom of my heart, as to prie into the secrets of all my Councels and Resolves: and therefore your admiration may be the greater, not discern­ing the cause and reasons of such contrarieties, which (upon several circum­stances) forced me to such extremities, and either to be v [...]olently severe, or most abundantly merciful. It is true you may wonder that I treated a Captive Prince with as much rigour, as if he had been the meanest Vassal; (and, you may say) that the Conquerour is obliged to respect the qualities of his Prisoners; and so ought to use personages of highest condition, [Page 164] though enemies) with honour and civility. I answer, I have not (in this occasion) acted with Capricious levitie, nor malicious cruelty: as for my clemencie and severitie, they are not certain rules of my prudence and po­licie; I regard neither hatred nor pity to my actions; Reason alone is my guide, which teacheth me to give punishment, pardon, or promotion, as I shall judge fit. And Reason alone which caused me to chain and imprison Bajazet, directed me to set the Prisoners and Slaves at Liberty. But per­haps you will say those that are born in a Country where there is little lear­ning, are less civil, and have not much veneration any where, and their po­licie is but rude and savage; which though it inviteth them to approve their own actions, and that which their passion doth inspire: but such proceed­ings relish neither of honour nor equity. I must confess (Axalla) that part of Europe (where you were bred) hath a great advantage for education in relation to those colder Climates; for Genoa is in Italy, and Italy is (at this day) what Greece was in ancient times, the Mother of Sciences, and Fountain of Learning: yet it is true, that I am not altogether ignorant of the Royal Science which teacheth Princes to reign with Justice, or to punish without Cruelty, and to pardon without weakness and fear; and so to act the one or the other, as it shall tend more to mine advantage, or mine ho­nour. Policie (without doubt) is a thing which may be learned from books, but Experience is a more certain Mistress, and teacheth her Schollers more ef­fectually. Now to perswade you to believe what I say, as a matter not falling out by meer chance, but by serious and laborious studies; I must put you in mind that this insolent and proud Prince Bajazet, was sometimes called the Shepherd, by a tart Ralliarie; because of those abundant of flocks of sheep which he fed in his Country, a condition not agreeing with the royalty of his birth. Yes (Axalla) you cannot but remember, how at the age of fifteen, the King of Sachatay my Father, gave me a Kingdom to go­vern; and when I was but sixteen, I undertoke the management of the Wars against the Muscovites; who when they were ranged in Battalia, were forced to yeild, and I slew no less then forty thousand of mine enemies: and that memorable day reduced them to be my tributaries. After that, you know how the grave Cham of Tartary mine Uncle, caused me to espouse his daughter, and thought me not unworthy to be his Successor: notwith­standing in my absence ambitious Calix aspired to the Empire; and know­ing me (to be at such a distance) leavied Arms, and drew into his parties the people of Catay; but after this injury, I had the good fortune to van­quish this enemy, and take him Prisoner; and in conclusion, resolving that his crimes should not be unrevenged, I drenched his rebellion in his bloud, and caused him to lose his head, thus to fix more securely the Crown upon mine own: and I resolved then not to pardon, lest I should have lost my self. (Axalla) you are not ignorant when I waged War against the King of China, how at last I made my self Master of that long and prodigious Wall, which the Chinaists had erected to separate themselvs insocially from the Tartars: how I forced the Towns of Paquinfow, of Paquinohu, of Teau­chenoy, and of Pannihu; and that I gave him three great battails and lost none. In the last battail I made him my Prisoner, and in this success find­ing that the practice of generosity would not be dangerous; I made a nota­ble example of my Clemencie, and restored to him his Kingdom, and his Liberty; contenting my self with a moderate tribute, as a testimony and memory to my victories. Since this effect (most generous Axalla, whom I equally honour as my self) you know that it was through your prayers and [Page 165] Councels, that I condescended to grant those succors and auxiliaries to the Emperor of Greece, to enable him to resist the injust invasion of cruel Bajazet, from that Prince (I say) who gloried in the renunciation of all humanity, and concluded that Soveraignty was given to Kings for no other end, but to practice the highest injustice and cruelty, without all im­punity; who was as well pleased to sluce out the bloud of the Mahome­tans, as the Christians, and loved more to see Innocencie suffer, then to punish Vice: Whose ambition was such, as not limited with any bounds, of either Reason, Religion, Alliance with neighbours, or any other sort of humane Rights; and whose cruelty was so implacable, as not satisfied with revenge and bloud, though it were of his own brothers, or dearest friends. This (Axalla) is that enemy which you councelled me to en­counter, and to give protection to the Emperour of the Greeks; you aided me in the fight, when I vanquished and made him prisoner; but I profess solemnly, you were not of my Counsel to have him fettered and bound in chains; you were privy to that secret, when the Greek Emperor (of whom I spake and relieved on your interest) conceiving himself obliged to my protection, sent to me the offer of his Empire, how that I refused it. You know at the same time, when I imprisoned Bajazet, I delivered and set free Desp [...]te de Servia, without so much as ransome, whom I took in the same Battail; and how I treated the children of Bajazet with kindness and honor, and that the Mahometans and Christians were equally satisfied in me, as to their present condition. Besides all this, you remember how I revenged my self on the Sultan of Egypt, who assisted Bajazet, and ha­ving almost intirely conquered the Ottoman Empire, how I took in Da­mascus, Damietta, Alexandria, Grand Caire, and the most considerable places of his Estate; and having been victorious in two Royal Battails, I forced him and his scattered Troops to flye, resolving to give him nei­ther Truce nor Peace, nor a Cessation of Arms: you cannot likewise but remember that Arabia Felix, and a part of Affrica, having voluntarily submitted to me as I marched, how I treated them with all sweetness possi­ble, and how the Persians resisting, I combated with them, beat, and sub­dued them; and having conquered the insolent numbers of that Grand Empire, I subjugated to my power all the Glanture, and all the Tampestan; and having mastered the great Town of Tauris, I placed you my Lieute­nant General there, as my Vice Roy in those parts; (and to your greater astonishment yet) passing by the Ardevel, on my return to Semarcant with an infinite number of Slaves of Caramania, and of all the vicine Nations; you cannot but recal to your thoughts how that Cheqsapy, a person of great vertue (whom I honoured with a visit) begging liberty for all his Slaves, I accorded without repugnancie, consenting with much joy, con­ceiving it just not to refuse his request, who was so noble to ask so much for others, and so little or nothing for himself. After all this experience of War, Conquest, and Success; you cannot (faithful Axalla) but con­clude that I have gained the Art and Science how to reign and rule; and that my reasons are valid and strong for the variety of my different Conduct in such great Affairs; and if I have pardoned humble Slaves, and punished a most superb and insolent Emperour, I have learned this way of Policie in the head of my Army, and from the impetuosity of mine enemies, that it is most proper for Majestie to humble the proud, and pardon the submiss. This practice is not only necessary in the times of War, but in the times of Peace; a Rule to be observed at all times and all places. Lawful Princes [Page 166] ought to regard this qualification; and as for Usurpers, they cannot reign without it, this being a means to stop the rage of Civil Wars, and more promptly to conclude foreign Invasions. By this way Justice will flourish and resist a greater inundation of popular vices; and this will make Kings as well feared as loved. Yes (noble Axalla) the just mixture of sweetness and severity is the secret, which renders Royalty more formidable and less hateful: for a Prince who alwayes is inexorable, imprinteth nothing but fear and terror into his Subjects: and he who is too meek and mild, doth with pardons and familiarity more easily provoke disloyalty and disobedience. Wherefore a prudent Prince with these two qualities, will keep the world in suspense, and make them alwayes serve his present purpose, without rash­ly falling into either extremity. It is not fit that any person who is proud should not be corrected by the chastisements of Royal Power; and those who are penitent and cordially humbled, should not be cherished with the hopes of a gracious remission. In this case Kings ought to imitate Thun­derbolts, which pass by humble shrubs, but shatter audacious and proud Oaks, whose high tops aspire to touch the Clouds. The Lion could not have merited that glorious quality as to be stiled the King of Beasts, but because he exerciseth his fury against the most insolent creatures: he soo­ner passes by the feeble and gentle Lamb, then the force and fierceness of Buls, and the rage of Tygers. Those Princes who would conserve their Estates in better security, cannot find a more certain way then by their cir­cumspection towards the Grandees of their Kingdom, and to see that they approach not so near to the Throne, as to have but one step more to ascend, and so to mount to Majestie. A wise King will alwayes keep as great a di­stance between him and his Lords, as they are to make between them and the people, if they intend to preserve their honour: if the Prince intend a super-elevation to any of his Subjects, his fore-sight of their humility ought to be the first step to their advancement; or if they be too superb and haughty, their pride is to be punished with severity and vindicative ju­stice, that their disgrace might teach them more humble obedience. Now if this Maxim be necessary for a Prince, who is contented with the inheri­tance of his Ancestors, and there to govern his Subjects in Tranquility; it is much more important to him who desires to enlarge his Territories, and is ambitious to add Victories, Triumphs, and Conquests to the At­chievements of his Ancestors. For if a Prince in Battalia kill the General, he is in great possibilitie to be Conquerour; and it arrives very rarely that fortune admitteth these to triumph, whose General and Head she hath suf­fered to be taken away: Thus if a Prince assault the Capital City of a Kingdom, and chance to become Master; all inferiour Towns (probably) render themselves with greater facility. It is then most certainly true, that it tendeth to greatest advantage to encounter with objects of greatest diffi­culty. When an Army marcheth through an Enemies Country, It stayes not before every Town and Village of less importance, but rather advanceth to such a place that may be worthy, or recompence a siege: and when the taking in of one Town may be an occasion to reduce an hundred. That which I said before of War and Justice in general, I may now say of the re­putation of Princes in particular: it is from the head, the highest and most noble part whereon the fortune, felicity, and glory of Kings depends. It may be if I had not taken off the head of Calix seasonably, who insolently revolt­ed against me; that sole Traitor might have proved an invincible obstacle to my designs. It might have fallen out then, that I might not have been [Page 167] King of Sachetay, nor have commanded the Tarters, nor have defeated Bazajet; I might possibly not have vanquished so great a part of Egypt, nor so mightily have subdued Persia; and if I had not been successful in the Protection of the Grecian Emperor (perhaps) I might have been a vassall to him whom I have confined to his Chaines. Do not admire then (brave Axalla) if I do not pardon the insolency of Bajazet; my severity in this grand example, cannot but make my Con­quest more glorious and renowned: you know that this Prince was not onely in the view of all the earth, but likewise in his Reign was the terrour of all the universe; what a noise then shall his chaines make to all the world? what security and advantage may not all men hope to themselves, by the imprisonment of this horrid Monster? Those whom he so ill treat­ed under his tirumphant and victorious Banners, will accompt themselves eternally obliged to me, that I have chastised their enemy and taken re­venge on him, from whom they had received so many evils: those who are yet mine enemies, will cease to be severe in their designes against me, least they draw that upon their owne heads, which Bajazet contracted on his, by his unparalleled cruelties: To conclude, I am well assured, if I should admit the suffrages of all men into deliberation with me, I should finde that none would plead for his ease or a relaxation, but rather an aug­mentation of his shame and punishment, and to dispatch away his life with the most exquisite tortures. (Besides) in the abasing of the proud, two considerable effects succeed; the one in causing a smal number of criminous persons to suffer, proveth the means to preserve infinite multitudes; who either cease to be malicious, or prevent themselves to be offenders. A second advantage is, that in the remission of an injury, to those who humbly repent, much glory is gained without any danger: for as in the multitudes of men, greater numbers are more fearful then hardy and audacious; so many thou­sand mouths will be quickly open to praise the clemency of the Prince; when perhaps one or some few malicious discontents, will murmur and re­pine against his severity: to give you an example, these great numbers of slaves, whom I have set at liberty, and who are now on their return to their several Provinces, are gone to gain me the hearts of their fellow Citizens, and so to establish my conquests by their promulgations of my celmency; where (on the contrary) Bajazet alone, being more unfortunate, will scarce have any companion to joyn with him in complaints: thus consequently, I have not acted against reason, when I commanded the Prison gates to be set wide open for the Slaves of Caramania; and (at the same time) com­manded stronger Bars of Iron to confine and Cage up Bajazet: the inso­lency of a revolted subject is ever insupportable, the same is as equally difficult in a proud enemy, who hath his arms in his hand; but if that insolency be exorbitant in a vanquisht enemy, he deserveth the highest pu­nition; if it be not permitted for one in Triumph to vapor and insult over those, whom he hath surmounted; how intollerable then think you is the violent precosity of a Prisoner of warr, who holds his life from him who hath made him his Captive, which he can take away at his pleasure. No, no, (Axalla) constancy of courage, and insolency of pride are not the same things; It may well become prisoners of warr, to carry their Irons with nobleness of mind, and not to lose their hearts, though they have lost the victory: Martial discipline never permitted a lessening of that respect, which the Captive oweth the Conquerour, and to retort upon him with reproach and injury is a higher crime; a Conquerour may justly reflect upon himself [Page 168] seated in the Chair of Majesty and Tryumph, whilst Captives and Priso­ners are to follow the royal Train with humble looks, and misfortunate Comportments: so that it is not allowed for any Captive (though never so great) to act as did insolent Bajazet; whose Pride was as vainly elevated, as his fortune miserably abased. The King of China, whom I read mit­ted to his Crown and Kingdome, acted nothing (after his misfortunes) un­worthy of his royal condition: as he was not base, he was not proud and insolent; when he treated with Tamberlane, he spake with boldness and ge­nerosity, yet not fiercely, or impudently without respect, he did nothing unlike a King, nor any thing that exceeded the fortune of his present qua­lity; therefore I had reason to treat him otherwise then Bajazet: and I am to be more honoured, if I have been indulgent to the one, and not to the other. What do you think, would not this Tyger have attempted in his rage, if he should have been loosed from his Chains? he would certain­ly first have adventured to have torn him in pieces who gave him his liber­ty (if he had power) and railing equally against all men (would, if he were able) become the publick Enemy of the Universe: He would tell the world his Subjects had betrayed him, that his Souldiers had forsaken him, that his Enemies had evilly treated him: thus resuming his Scepter in rage and malice, he would have designed a desolation to all the earth, or (at least) would have sought the means. (No, no, Axalla) he who will not be a good Prince (shall being a Captive) whether he will or no, become a real Slave, without hopes to return to a Throne of Majesty: of which cruelty hath rendered him unworthy, and made him more fit to carry Chains and Irons. Clemency, on this occasion, might introduce too many dangers, and the interest of so many people concern'd, is not incon­siderately to be passed over. Severity to Bajazet is more necessary then royal Civility, to make Bazajet to see the ugliness of his owne vices (and if possible) to cause an alteration in his savage humors. Besides, who may not expect Pardon, if Bajazet should escape with any grace or lenity; he who is the curse and execration of all the world (and who, though van­quished) speaks and acts such things as are able to enflame the most calm and gentle soul with rage and fury. As for the slaves I pardoned, they were not capital, but subordinate enemies, ingaged in a party who were against me; perhaps those men in their private condition quietly disposed, and un­willing and incapable voluntarily to offend; and consequently such persons were proper objects for a Princes Clemency: such an action as this carries along with it the presence of splendour and honour; nay there is a kind of equity which pleadeth pardon for those who humbly begg for Clemen­cy, and policy is not against the proceedings, if it foresee not peril and dan­ger in the consequence. The true bounds which are to be given to clemency or severity, are to be measured and examined by the rule of justice; and she is to be observed how far she suffers the one or the other to appear: some crimes are so horrid, as justice will not allow them to pass unpunished; as she will not admit vertues to be deprived of their reward and recompence. Now in this consideration, we ought to judge whether Clemency may be of more disadvantage, or severity more serviceable; so discerning whe­ther to imploy and exercise the one or the other, thus guided to undertake nothing but for the publick interest or soveraign glory. The chiefest mark and note of majesty is, the loyal submission of subjects, and the highest mark of victory is, the humble prostration of the vanquished, who do not onely cast downe their arms, but their lives and liberties at the Conque­rours [Page 169] feet; whereas on the contrary, those who oppose the divine Chara­cter of Princes in their Soveraignty, are born up with the excess of Pride and Arrogancie: and that provocation is more intolerable which spring­eth from the insolencie of a Captive, then from the defiance of an enemy. Be not then longer astonished (Axalla) if you have observed me, sometimes so gracious, and at other times so severe; but be perswaded that I have ever been guided by the hand of Reason, I have pardoned where I could, and not prejudiced the advancement of my Conquests; I have been inflexible, and not to be moved, when I foresaw that my Clemencie might not only prove unjust, but dangerous; either as to the peoples good, or to my own designs. It is an observation in Nature, that she opposeth those things that do resist her, and gently yeilds to those things which courteously offer place; so then from the simple motions of nature we cannot but accord to that which is here asserted. Join then with me (Axalla in this Conclusion, and say, That whoever considereth the person of Bajazet, that then cruelty her self ceased to be cruelty; and that it is true that his humour was insupportable, bloudy, insolent, and un­natural, and therefore merited least compassion; it was then a judicious re­solution to detain him within bars of iron, whom reason could not per­swade nor be predominant with. To these resolutions, let us perpetuate a continuation, so not think it irrational to pardon chearfully those who hum­bly submit to our power, and to punish with severity those whom neither misfortunes, nor captivity can reduce to a submission. Let not our pardons be granted out of fear and feebleness, and let not our chastisements be provoked through preoccupation and hatred. Thus to wind up the clew of this discourse, let us resolve neither to pardon nor punish, but when reason shall conduct us for the ends of the peoples greater good, or the Princes more illustrious renown.

The CENSƲRE.

ANger is a passion which reigneth too much in every brest, but principally most with Kings, who are so high that they ought to be above those storms and tempests which are condensed and formed in the middle Region of the air; as Princes surmount all others in their titles, so they ought to transcend them in their vertues, so to be less transported with the heat of passion. He who in­vented the fable of Minerva, who broke her Pipe or Ho-boy, when she saw her visage in the Crystal Fountain; doth tell us that beholding her cheeks puffed and swelled, (which caused her deformity and ugliness) prudently brake that in­strument which disfigured her beauty, and so changed her countenance. This pretty Story represents that great change and alteration which untamed passi­on transmitteth suddenly into the soul, which if she be wise) she presently aban­doneth, and on the sight of the deformity, avoideth or suppresseth more care­fully. In effect, those people who caused their children to look on their slaves, when they were debauched and drunken, to imprint into them the horror of that ugly vice, did likewise cause them to look on their slaves in their rage and cho­ler, to make them apprehend more perfectly the deformities of passion, and so to cause in them a greater caution and detestation of such vicious infirmit [...]es. Such a humor consistent of Sulphur and Salt peter, becomes not a prudent soul; nor is to converse with a sage and rational Man. Xerxes who threatned to set bounds to the Sea, and level the Mountains (if they did not facilitate a [Page 170] passage to his Army) appeared to all the World more ridiculous then formida­ble in the extravagancie of his passion. Hippocrates (the Prince of Physiti­ans) saith, That it is a signal token of a great Malady to see the counte­nance much altered; and to this purpose Plutarch used these words, that before a man go out of the Bath he ought to behold himself in a glass; if he blush at his nakedness when he hath parted with his cloathes; how ought he to be a­shamed at his passions, when he hath parted with his reason. But after all these vertues and vices though they have some near resemblances, are not to be rudely mixed in confusion. Those who are valiant are not to be esteemed rash, nor those who are liberal profuse and prodigal, nor those who are severe utterly un­just and cruel. We read that Nemesis and Adrastia were as well Deities as Ju­piter, and that necessity as well required Goddesses of revenge, as of power and patronage; it is true, that Justice as well as Clemency is a Divine Attribute; and that the one as well as the other is necessary for Kings, who present on earth the Image of God.

When Alexander asked Porus his generous Prisoner how he would treat him, if Alexander could be unfortunate: Porus answered he would treat him like a King. Thus did Tamberlane yeild to the shining Sun, when no blustring Tempest could bend his inclinations. It is true, as Sophocles saith in his Tra­gedy of Antigone, That Reason and Understanding hardly dwell with men in misery, or at least bears not company so much with them in their misfortunes; for though men be sage and stout in their prosperity, yet ad­versity is able to diminish and weaken their best abilities. It is Seneca, who speaketh in his Epistles, that he is a perfect good man whom no accident ca [...] render evil. And the same Author saith in his Book De Ira, That Vertue ought never to have recourse to Vice. In his second Book De Clementia, That a Wise man ought alwayes to act as intending the common good of all men. And from all these instances we may conclude, that (on several oc­casions) to punish and to pardon are equally necessary. A Prince is to proceed in his great affairs as a skilful Musician with his different Notes; which (ac­cording to the Air) he changeth at pleasure, high or low, to briefs, longs, or flats, providing that all alterations intend to effect better harmony, and a swee­ter composure in the Government of the Estate: thus the proceedings of Tam­berlane are more justifiable, and the severe punishments he inflicted on Bajazet were chastisements becoming his insolency, who so imprudently and outragiously provoked so triumphant a Conqueror. Hence we learn that the examples of ex­treme severity and clemency may in their seasons be equally important in the af­fairs of Princes. She who in the Scripture is stiled fair as the Moon, and bright as the Sun, is immediately termed terrible as an Army with Banners. Words which instruct Kings to have alwayes the two Royal Supporters of Clemency and Justice to bear up their Throne; these great vertues are not to be abused with Passion, but to be guided by reason in all their actions. And now we are from Tartary returned to France, where we may see Hugh Capet, who after he had abrogated the office of the Major of the Pallace, constituted the high trust and dignity of the Constable of France, which is a degree that so nearly approach­eth to Soveraignty it self. Here follow the reasons of his resolutions in a mat­ter of so high concernment. This Hugh was the first and chief of the third race of the Kings of France.

HUGH CAPET TO FREDERICK COUNT OF METS.

I Do not doubt but that the high de­sign, I have in hand, doth much asto­nish you, and that after my discharge of the Major of the Pallace (which of­fice I have suppressed) yet thought it not fit to conferr that place on my son, thereby to remove all pretention and expectation from the Grandees of my Kingdom, in the management and disposal of my affairs, that I have created the Authority and Office of the Constable of France; which is a degree and quality wherein a Subject seems to approach exceeding close and near to Soveraignty it self. Per­haps some may say, that in the Creation of this Supreme Officer, my hand is tired, and that I am not longer able to sway and support my Royal Scep­ter; or that my elevation to the Throne hath so ravished my sense and rea­son with the splendour of Majesty, that I cannot rule without some immedi­ate assistance; and that because I judged the Majors of the Pallace (in their office) to be less glorious to their Prince; therefore I caused a suppression of that more intolerable Authority, which so much usurped over the royal quality of some of my Ancestors in their weaker abilities, who did pre­cede famous Pepin; and in which office I gained so much honour and power under Lewis the fifth. But this suppression of the Major of the Pal­lace did not utterly remove my thoughts from all approbation of one to be advanced to more signal and high trust: For as the vertues of the Sub­jects are great advancers of vertues and worth in their Prince; so are the wisdom and parts of a prudent Councellor or chief Minister of State, of an absolute necessity for the more glorious transaction of the illustrious affairs of Kings. From these considerations, I wish that the Kings of France may not be without an eternal Competitor, whose abilities may heighten and [Page 172] advance their Prince to more glorious endeavours; thereby to incline the Revolution of their Crown towards their children, or (if they should be incapable) towards themselves. This Emulation in a Subject (springing from nothing but true renown) cannot but make the Prince and the Royal Family more industrious and diligent, the better to execute the Royal Fun­ction: and though I create an Office and Order of an high and great trust, yet I doubt not, but with good success; and presume that hand of Provi­dence which hath established this Throne (although sometimes possessed by personages of greater weakness) will still continue his protection, mau­gre the malice of all enemies whomsoever. Now to satisfie the world that I act not without reason, I must let you know that Royalty (which is the first and Primum Mobile in an Estate or Kingdom) ought to be fortified and coroborated with some vicine and near assistance; into which the Prince may infuse and impart his pleasure and power: and that effected, there may succeed an activity and influence to cause a communication to all inferior and subordinate orbs and motions to facilitate the Government of greater affairs. An eminent person or Prince of quality nearly ap­proaching to the condition of his Soveraign, is so necessary, as without the Councels and assistance of a chief Minister of State it is almost im­possible to enjoy or see a prosperous Reign in the Negotiations of so great a kingdom. The glorious body of the bright Sun cannot (at the same instant) communicate his beams, and be radiant to all cantons and cor­ners of the earth; and if the Sun did not participate his lumination to the inferior Stars, the Semicircle and Moiety of the World would ever be en­veloped in obscuritie and darkness. Thus it is not possible for a Prince to Regulate and honourably Govern his Estate without a communication of his power, being as the Sun, to radiate and shine over all the parts of his Kingdom at the same time. And as it is with God, so it is with Princes, who bear his Image; the Divine power doth operate by second and sub­ordinate causes in the Government of the Universe; where so many dif­ferent concurrences do meet, and a Kingdom (being a vast Body) where so many varieties of dissenting affairs do convene. A Prince cannot ef­fectually operate in them all without a participation of his trust and power to some noble and faithful assistant. Besides, a Prince is to the Body Po­litique and Kingdom, what the Soul is in the Body Natural; and the chief Minister of State, is to be as the most noble, chiefest part and organ to con­vey his Princes royal pleasure with more ease and honour into all the in­ferior parts and members. Thus whosoever observes accurately, and consi­ders judiciously the office and obligations of supreme Power, must rationally conclude, that Kings are not only above their subjects in honor and dignity, but in their pains and cares: not only conducting their affairs, but protecting their persons, directing their people how to enrich themselvs; governing and guarding their lives and fortunes from foreign as wel as from unnatural and civil wars. It belongeth to the Princes care to pardon as well as to punish; to see that Piety and Peace may prosper, and that Justice flourish. The least of these duties is (almost) a burden too insupportable for the shoulders of a­ny one, (though never so wel qualified.) Therfore for a more happy tranqui­lity, publick welfare and repose, such a creature is absolutely necessary, in whose person his Prince may confide; who transferring a great share of weighty affairs to his transaction and abilities, the Prince may rule with more honour, and the people enjoy more publique advantages. But as a chief Minister may be serviceable to the State, so it infinitely concerneth [Page 173] the Prince to be discreet and most judicious in his choice: the most no­ble and sagest of the Subjects best meriteth to be elevated and called to his Royal Dignity and Trust. For it is certain the Prince very plainly pre­sageth the success and prosperity of his affairs and Government, by his election and choice of his chief Councellor and Minister of State: who, if of greater worth, vertue, and illustrious qualities, doth more dignifie his Master, and better gratifie and content his Subjects. But this care is ever to be used, that the Prince preserve his distance, lest his Ministers grow too insolent, which might endanger to lessen the splendor of Majesty, or occa­sion injury and injustice towards the people. 'Twas for this reason why I resolved to remove and discharge the Office of the Major of the Pallace, who (commonly) so much entrenched and encroached on the Priviledges belonging to Royalty. Now in the creation of this Order of a Consta­ble of France, I intend nothing else but an Office of Conveniencie; which may prove of great use to the Prince and to the Kingdom: and if the Major of the Pallace had lived under Princes, who had been able to rule accord­ing to the high priviledges of Soveraignty, that Office might (to this day) have been more toierable; but the Princes infirmities having given way to them to grow insolent, and too much to usurp on Majesty, their dis­charge and a constitution of a new Order of Constable is more proper and agreeable; which place is not inalterable, his Beeing depending on his Princes pleasure. Yet it is sound Policie rather not to elevate to high places, then after a Commission sealed for trust and honour, to disgrace and remove. Wherefore the Prince is not to choose his prime Minister of State in a tu­mult of passion, or according to the common delusions of popular vogues and suffrages: but after a serious consultation with his own Reason, ha­ving first glanced at the commendations and advice of his best and ablest Councellors. It is true, those who by eminency of their birth are born near to the Throne, being of Royal alliance and bloud, having their edu­cation proportioned accordingly to render them more illustrious and capa­ble, may expect before others (who are not their Peers, neither in worth or birth) the honour of this high priviledge: but if their vertues be answer­able to their birth, equity is bound to plead for their dignities and merits. Such a condition is more preferrable, because their persons and estates are so nearly twisted in the interest of the Crown, that they must necessarily flourish with it, or else fall, and so be buried under the same misfortunate and fatal Ruines. And (to confess truth impartially) it were a kind of injury, where birth and worth meet, that such persons should not be gra­ced with the greatest Trust, the chiefest Honour, and highest qualities; nay, to exclude such illustrious Capacities, were not only a discouragement to their Noble Persons, but to Vertue and Majesty it self, which requireth the service and attendance of the greatest magnificence. Yet this great concernment ought to be of such importance and care that the Prince take notice, how it is more absolutely necessary that the person honour more his place and office with his vertues and abilities, then his place honour him. Therefore an impartial judicious choice is most chiefly to be used; and if those of more noble birth and extraction (degenerating from the vertues of their Ancestors, and utterly void of their great abilities) are incapable, and merit not so near a relation to Soveraignty: the Prince may make his choice where a more vertuous ability and a more noble capacity primely appeareth amongst others of his Subjects. For as the King hath his pri­viledge to choose at his pleasure amongst so many thousands of his people; [Page 174] so each one of them, who is ingenious and vertuous is capable of his Prin­ces Election and favour. Now as for the persons whom the Prince advan­ceth to so high imployment, they are as Rivers whose Channels are deep and profound, whose Banks are distanced and large, to that end that the fierce Torrents, falling and streaming down, they may not cause an inun­dation, and so a destruction and sterility; but gently watering the fields, may cause them to be more fruitful and luxuriant: for it is most commo­dious if great Rivers swell and make their banks and borders full, all the excess in the Current is to fructifie the Country where the stream runs, then (at last) to empty it self with greater fulness into the vast and mighty Ocean. Thus the chief Minister is like a pleasant stream to enrich the State, and in the end, to flow more abundantly with advantages and prosperous returns to Majesty. Yet if it so fall out that the Prince be so unfortunate in his choice, that he whom he imployeth be not of a fit capacity, he may justly fear those disasters in Government, which are ordinary in the course of Nature; and that confusion in the State, which an inundation causeth in the Country when the Banks are broken down; where, if the breaches cannot speedily be repaired, an inevitable danger may succeed to the whole Kingdom. On the contrary, if the chief Councellour be fortunate in his conduct of affairs, and that this imployment falleth into the hands of an Heroick and Noble soul; a person in whom prudence and all the vertues eminently appear, and who hath gained the true Maxims of Policie by a long experience, and whose ambition is inflamed entirely for his Masters service and the peoples welfare; in such a condition the Prince may be con­fident of his own and of his peoples safety. Then heaping honours upon his Creature, he may daily communicate to him greater power. In effect, if celestial providence had not removed from the Throne the latter Kings, who were leg itimate in their birth; but unworthy to descend from Charle­main by their ignoble qualities, I might yet have been there subject: and what authority soever, and charge, to be Major of the Pallace, and to be Count of Paris, Prince of France, together with the merits of Hugh Le Grand my Father gave me, I should never have adventured to ascend the Throne if the right heir to the crown had not descended thence, and if Charles of Lorain had not by his actions renounced that right to which he might have pre­tended. All these Circumstances accompanied with the universal suffra­ges of the people and puissant Soveraignty united, hath invited me to ac­cept what I could not honourably refuse and resist. Let not Princes fear then to impart and communicate their Authority, but when it is evident, and they apprehend it may tend to their dishonour and disadvantage. Princes are subject to errour as well as other men, and therefore not without their fears and jealousies. Now it is impossible but that a Prince conferring his trust into the hands of such eminent persons; their cheifest business will be to respect their Masters, to observe their Laws, and to reduce or continue their people to their obedience. Now as Kings are the Images of God, so the chief Ministers of State are the Images of their Princes; we must not think then that the honour bestowed on them is a derogation or dimi­nution of their Soveraignty. No, rather the more highly the chief Coun­cellour is dignified, the more the Prince himself is honoured. For as Antiquity reverenceth the Oracles, and those who were injurious to them affronted the Gods; so the same veneration and respect ought the Subjects attribute to him, who is so highly trusted as well for their own as their Prin­ces service. These mutual respects are the Nerves of the State wherewith [Page 175] the Prince move [...] the whole body of the Kingdom with greater facilitie. And as the General of an Army disperseth his Orders and discovereth his design to a faithful Officer, (selected from the rest) for a more prosperous march and conduct to the Army: so doth a Prince intimate his directions (perhaps) but by a Whisper) to his Minister, whereby he moveth all the parts of the Kingdom in a course clean contrary to common and general expectations. Therefore such an Officer is necessary, that the Prince may not only be eased and disburthened of so great a charge, and thereby be able to refresh and solace himself, but likewise Policie teacheth him to prepare a shelter betwixt him and the outragious tempests of the peoples envie and reproaches, who act in that sort, that if the Prince be indulgent to any one person, they become an eternal enemy to such near approaches to Royalty; and the Minister of State receiving the beams of Authority from his Prince, ought to be like the Moon, thought less luminous yet ever splendent in one degree or other; and though by his motions he casually eclipse the splendor of the Sun, as to the eie of the people, yet as towards his Prince he is still to reflect with honour, and his orb is speedily to move to a more luminous satisfaction of the World: And when it so happeneth that a King enjoyeth such an extraordinary person, who knoweth as equal­ly to obey his Prince, as to command his people: the loss of ten Battails ought to be less considerable then of one so eminent and so incomparable a creature. This Office of the Constable I have constituted as an aid and succour to my self; and that of the Marshals of France, as Assistants to the Constable. And if Princes be so injudicious and resolute, as in so great a Kingdom not to admit a Minister of State, but wrastle alone with those vast imployments, they will find those different affairs which follow the Soveraignty, as the shaddow doth the body, will infinitely oppress the Princes soul; who if he mind his own honour and the peoples repose, a defatigation and dispiritedness will accompany that oppression; and that will produce vexation and melancholy, which is provoked ordinarily into choller; and that commonly prepares high acts of injustice: therefore to keep up the vigour of the Prince in an equal proportion, the prudence and fidelity of a chief Minister of State is incomparably necessary. Soveraign Princes are like the Captains and chief Commanders in the Gallies, where the service of the Pilot is of the cheifest importance to guide the course; it is his office to foresee the tempests, to discover the winds, to avoid the shelves and rocks; and they rarely or never govern the Helm, but when the Pilot is disobedient, or a necessity forceth: they (at pleasure) observe the Carte, though neither furle the Sails, handle the Ropes, nor tug at an Oar: it is enough for the Captains to give their orders, to reserve themselves for their more noble functions, which are to fight and vanquish the enemies: yet in necessity the Captain ought to be capable to exercise any place in all the Vessel; either of a skilful Pilot, or a private Sea-man. Thus as an exact Pilot, the chief Minister of State is to be prudent and active, either in the quiet and calms, or storms and tempests, when they arise in the State. If God would have Kings made so perfect and absolute as that they should need no assistance or Councellor, then they had been more by their birth then men; they might have penetrated their Subjects hearts, and been in­capable of being deceived: but seeing it hath pleased the Divine Power to make them equal in their infirmities to the meanest of their Subjects, they have great reason to fortifie their disabilities by addition of the most rati­onal helps and assistances: now as some objects, so the affairs of Kingdoms [Page 176] may be better seen by a multiplyed Light. I know well that History (which passeth for the best and most impartial Describer of the Universe) teacheth Kings something; that more obscurely and imperfectly in com­parison of effective experience. I may add also that Customs, Manners, and Kingdoms, change as well as times. The Macedonians are not now those noble persons, who fought under Philip and Alexander the Great; the Romans of our age are grown more soft and delicate, and are not such who lived under Romulus and Numa Pompillius; the French themselves, though hot and fiery, have left that hardship and fierceness which they had under the reign of Pharamond and Meroije, under Clodion and Clovis, their courage was then formidable to all Nations. Princes born in the Purple Chamber of Royalty, usually travail into other Countries by their Maps and Charts; and seldom march into other Territories, but with puissant Armies to enlarge their Conquests and Dominions. It is then most ad­vantagious to a Prince to have a confidence in some eminent person who may satisfie his curiosity with truth, and can experimentally describe by his travails, the Kingdoms and Countreys of his Enemies, it being almost impossible to make his advantages without the advice of those who have seen those places with their own eyes. And whereas Princes by reason of their superabundant affairs cannot be so contemplative, nor so much con­verse with Books; and that Prudence is much gained with travail and conversation with strangers: a learned Councellour of Estate may in his discourse be used as a walking Library. Besides, Splendor, Pomp, and Pleasure, deprive a King of a great part of his life; so that it may be said in some kind, 'Tis necessary for a Prince to have some others to live for him; to advise him on all occasions, and to instruct him in those things which his interrupted condition permits him not to understand. And who think you is so fit to report to his Prince those bold truths and free expressions, which it is necessary he should understand, but he to whom he hath given Commission, and in whom he hath placed his confidence. There are ma­ny angry truths, which Kings ought to know, and yet are not to be related to them, but seasonably, and by a skilful and learned faithful Councellour; who having first digested the dangers, may direct his Master to avoid the extremities. For the same relations reported from an ignorant or an inju­dicious mouth may occasion great distempers, and many evils: so that a faithful Minister compleatly qualified with all vertues, is the chiefest guard to the person of his Prince. When I look on the Court, I see it full of flatterrers and male contents; some endeavouring to raise dissentions, others labouring to corrupt with Sycophancie and adulation: therefore in consideration of those two different dangers and inconveniencies; ad­dresses are rather to be applyed first to the chief Minister, then to the Prince; who as he is a guard, so he is a buckler and spye to all intentions that may surprize the King; and these obligations indear his fidelity to his Master together with his own fortune, his life, and honour. Now as touching my self, these Reasons have been my Directors, and I desire my Successors may practice that which I have given them in example. The Laws shall be my guide and rules, and the Constable and Marshals of France, on whom I have conferred the Military affairs, shall force and command them to an observation. It is by them whereby I shall support my Throne, whereunto I am ascended; and it is by this discourse which I have made, whereby I shall prevent my Successors from an evil explication of my resolutions; and that they may beleive that my suppression of the Major of the Pallace, [Page 177] was to make them more absolute in the Regal Office, I wish my Succes­sors may reign with full Authority; but I desire also that they debar not themselves from the prudence of a faithful Councellor. I would not have them slaves to their chief Minister, and yet I advise them to submit to Experience and Reason; and having found sage, moderate, faithful, and vertuous servants, that they love them, recompence, and protect them, and that they measure their friendshid, favours, and bounty, with their ver­tue, excellency, and perfection of their services.

THE CENSƲRE.

KINGS are Gods, so saith the Scripture; but they are such Gods, of whom Homer and Ovid speaks, who are subject to anger, fear, hatred, love, and all humane Passions. As happy as Kingdoms and Princes may be, they are content to observe the Latine Proverb, which teacheth them, that two eyes see more then one; and therefore commit not their affairs absolutely to the dictates of their own will, matters of weight: Regal and high affairs re­quire counsell and assistance; which if Kings refuse and scorn their condition grows desperate and dangerous. All Wisdom cometh from above, saith Ecclesiasticus, and 'tis for this reason why Kings ought not to be ashamed of their consultations, meeting with so many difficulties. The nobleness of birth renders Kings illustrious and worthy of great esteem, and most sublime admira­tion: and it is true, Where the King is, there is the Court, though it be but in a Cottage. But seeing they are men as well as Kings, Monarchs were unreason­able if they refused Councel and advice: S. Paul teacheth that Princes are to be obeyed though evil and wicked; yet he never taught, That Princes ought not to hearken to the wisdom of the aged, to those who have more experi­ence then they. It is their duty to do right to the Meanest as well as to the Mightiest. This is an instruction given to all the Grand Masters of the earth. And how shall Princes obey the Commandments of heaven if they be ignorant of what is right, and will not hear their Councels who can advise them? Plato saith in the second Book of his Republique, That it is a high injustice to ap­pear Righteous, and not really to be so. He addeth farther, He is equally injust who taketh Councel from none but himself; as Lewis the Eleventh of France, who wedded himself resolutely to his own opinion. Alexander the Great, who was so noble in his resolutions, that in the Olimpyan Games he would contest and exercise with none but Kings, yet he refused not to consult with Aristotle, who was no King, but a sage Philosopher. The sublimity of his condition did not make him scorn or disdain the wisdom of his Councel. Solomon saith, In the multitude of Councellors consisteth safety. And that which he taught he practised; first choosing able and faithful Councellours, and then depending on their fidelity. Wisdom establisheth a firm foundati­on (saith the infallible Oracle) and to have such an assurance, faithful Councel­lours are to be embraced. And though the danger may be great, when a Councellor proves unable or unfaithful; yet it is greater prudence to adventure such a danger, then to walk headlong in a certain path of ruine and destruction. It is true, Princes unfortunately, sometimes meet with such false and perfidious Councellours as Sejanus; but there are to be found likewise upright and judi­cious Mordeca's, Agrippa's, Maecenas's, and Bellisarius, that is, such incom­parable [Page 178] Worthies, who having no single and private Interest, regard nothing above their Masters glory and his Kingdoms good. Such men as these are fit to sit at the Councel Tables with Kings; of whom it may be candidly said, as the Oracle did of Lycurgus, (though by the mouth of a Sorcerer) that such as he were beloved of the Gods, and were rather (indeed) Gods then Men: and as for Princes, their ruine is never more certain and near, then when they despise wholsome Councel. Therefore the Wise man said, Rebuke the wise and he will give thee thanks. Now as the Prince is to hearken to his faithful Minister; so is he to premeditate and guard his lips, that they utter no perverse or indiscreet thing before the Prince; but by wisdom to shew him­self worthy to stand before Kings, and to approve his worth in so high a trust; and so a skilful Pilot in so dangerous a Navigation and Voyage. It is requi­site his Theorie be great but that his Practice exceed that. He is to keep himself within the bounds of awful obedience to his Prince, to understand that the Su­preme power of Kings is not limited, their anger is as the roaring of a Lion, and their Soveraignty is as the heart of man, where every wound is mortal It is with Soveraignty as with the Ark of the Covenant, which none ought to presume to touch, though it were to support it. Having now seen the reasons of Hugh Capet and his election of a Constable of France, let us travail more Northerly, and look on a famous Hero, that formidable Conqueror, whom we may stile as that Turkish Emperour Gulderum, that is, the Lightning from Heaven; who when he had passed over the Baltick Sea, and set his feet in Ger­many being in the head of his Army; he commonly exposed himself to the dangers of a private Souldier, not considering his quality of being a King, but (when he had occasion) to shew his Royal Grace and Mercy to his humbled and vanquished Enemies. And therefore his sage and faithful Chancellour presumed to take the liberty to reprehend his Majestie. See here follow the reasons of this Lion-like couragious Prince, to authorize and justifie his Gallantry and hard­ship in what he usually attempted.

The Most Illustrious Puisant, and Ʋictorious Prince, GVSTAVVS ADOLPHVS, by the grace of GOD, King of the Swethens, Goths, and Ʋandals, great Prince of Finland. Duke of Esthonia & Carelia, Lord of Ingria (etc)


Gustavus Adolphus TO HIS GREAT CHANCELLOR OXERSTERN.

IF the Councels which you have given me for a safer guard to my self, had not been as dangerous, as my enemies to my renown and honour; I could have so much valued your wisdom and fidelity, as to have hearkened to your Policie and Advice; but my honour was more precious to me then the consideration of my Estate and life, and more nearly toucheth my heart. Wherefore I think it fit to sa­tisfie your curiosity (in matters so highly important:) I presume the valor of Kings is not a quality to be confined or lockt up within the narrow bounds of any limits; much less within the prescriptions which your Policy perswadeth. It is absolutely defended (as an infallible rule) that Kings (if they intend a victory or Conquest) are to appear in the front and head of the Battail. You well know it is most difficult in all the Course of Nature, to establish one certain and infallible rule. The same circumstances are not commonly used to the same events, but distinct and different means of­ten compass the same ends. One Ship may come safely to the Harbour by the Tide, and another as prosperously (though against the Tide) by a good gale of wind. As all Kings are not alike, neither in their persons, nor Kingdoms; so their interests leave them to the choice and exercises of se­veral actions and undertakings. There are many Circumstances most ma­terially considerable in them, as their age, their humour, their inclination. And it is to be observed that the people are of one temper, and the Soul­diers of another; those love to loiter and shelter themselves in Plenty and Peace; these delight to hear the sound of Trumpet and Drums, and are more ambitious of honour then of riches. To these observations a par­ticular regard must be used to the affairs of War, to the nature of the Ene­mie, and to the designs of Conquest and Victory. And according to the [Page 180] variety of those objects in these several circumstances; the life of man (in order to those ends he aims at) is to be more or less valued. To this pur­pose a King is to consider, whether it may not be as necessary (on some occasions) to appear (as well) a valiant and stout Souldier, as a great Com­mander and General. But not to stay you any longer from the more sub­stantial Reasons, I hope you will yeild rationally, that Valour is a quality, as essential to a King, as either Justice or Prudence; and that (in some de­grees) it is more advantagious and serviceable to the People, then to the Prince, who chiefly gains honour and renown; but as for other Con­veniences, they are as equally communicable to the Subjects (who freely share in them) as to the Soveraign. It is true, Policy and Prudence may effect Victories with less danger, and without effusion of bloud; and those Conquests may be both glorious and commodious: yet I shall speak freely and without fear, although Justice and Prudence are chief preservers of a State in peace, yet the Vallour and fortitude of the Prince is as equally considerable; and contributeth not the least share of advantage to the prosperity of a Kingdom. Nay, more valour chiefly giveth the life, suc­cess, and fortune, and with magnanimity and courage the noblest minds do ever keep company; 'tis this vertue which maketh the greatest spirits and Worthies most remarkable; she (above all others) advanceth Kings and Princes. It is by her renown that Kingdoms and Empires are consti­tuted and formed; and whereby Conquerours all Illustrious Heroes are reputed worthy to merit Crowns and Diadems: for if we examine the wayes and motions of these latter ages; we shall find that men who ne­ver were disciplined in the Rules of Morality and Policy, out of an instinct and direction from Nature, judged none worthy to command, but those whom they conceived most daring and valiant. So true it is, that valour is a quality most essential to Royalty, and consequently those who are not endowed with this great vertue, are utterly unworthy and incapable of Crowns and Scepters. If Kings were only obliged to be their Subjects Lords and Masters, Prudence and Justice might be solely requisite to such relations of Government; but their royal office obligeth them farther to adventure for their defence, not only by their Commands, but in their Per­sons. And it is through this noble quality that they gain the glorious titles of victorious Conquerors, and to be stiled the Protectors and Liberators of the People. It was in favour to this more eminent vertue, that the ancient Romans (who were such equal dispensators of Glory) conferred honours, and gave triumphs to those, who by their illustrious Atchievements had merited such high renown. But you will tell me, all men confess valour to be a great ornament and Princely requisite in a Soveraign: but it is ren­dred less useful if not limited with moderation and guided with discreet re­straints. To answer, I shall not peremptorily make a contradiction; yet I shall boldly affirm, that all the vertues when idle and less active, either cease to be vertues, or (at least) appear not so to be. What where Cle­mency if she never snatched a sacrifice from the Altar of Justice? and what were Justice if she remitted all her victims to Clemency? There is then a kind of necessity which generally obligeth them to a Consistency in action; and each particular is to act according to its Nature; and to ma­nifest it self to the people, as that vertue which is most eminent in the Prince, and chiefly seated in his natural inclinations. Now if the Prince discerneth that his Subjects do more honor him, his Souldiers grow daily more valiant, and his Enemies more fear him; it cannot but be necessary, that he make proofs of [Page 181] his courage to encrease the subjects loyalty and the Souldiers valour, that the Enemies may be possessed with more terrour and fear, and the Estate be established in a greater security. Besides, where nature hath imprinted this noble heat and ardour of spirit, it is proper to augment and enflame this na­tural spark, by an exercise and frequency of noble actions; and he who passeth his dayes without peril, is too rash or vain▪glorious, if he brag much of his courage. It is not enough for a Prince to hear the noise of the Cannons, and to see the smoak and flashes of fire from the Ramparts and Battalians: but valour leadeth a gallant spirit within the midst of the flaming clouds, and mingleth him boldly with the enemies troops; where he can look on death without fear, and seeks glory when he scorns the world: and so walking betwixt the living and the dead, gathers Lawrels and Trophies with his own hands, which he hath besprinkled with the sweat and bloud of his irreconcileable Enemies. If this noble boldness were not admitted to a Prince, his own Army might as well doubt as the Enemies themselves of the Princes valour; and the Souldiers and Officers might justly chal­lenge to themselves the victory which crowneth Kings. This high quali­ty is not only necessary for a Prince in the Theorie and Speculation, but like­wise in the Practice: some other vertuos are commendable, but this not only so, but essential in a Prince. Justice and Prudence may be inspired by the advice of faithful Councellours, but valour must lodge in the Princes heart, which giveth life and motion (as the most noble part) to all the o­ther Members. And how can a Prince who feeleth not in himself the height of vigour and courage manage his affairs in either Peace or Wars? First if he live in the softness of Plenty, and a peaceful Estate, how apt will such a Prince be to be opposed and affronted by the injustice and in­solency of his own Subjects? how will his neighbour Princes and Estates domineer and encroach on his Royal Rights and Priviledges? and it he fall into the tempest and broils of a Civil War, or an invasion from foreign Enemies; how will he be able to preserve his own honour, or his subjects Rights and Liberties? and what noble spirit will freely adventure his life in his service, who dare not as freely hazard his own? or how can he be capable of Generous Councel, who hath not courage nor valour to put it in execution? and how dare that person think himself worthy of the Title of King, who hath not a heart to fight (if fortune should oblige him) in a single Duel with his equal) for the honour and preservation of his Crown? By this time (I think) I may impartially conclude, that valour is the most Princely and most Royal ornament, and hath the precedency (on the Throne) above all other vertues, which without this could not render any person fit to wear a glorious Crown. In all great Battails she alone hath made the Conquerors most illustrious and fortunate. You cannot then (noble Chancellor) but acknowledge that as this vertue is necessary and glorious for the Prince: so it is of chiefest advantage for the Peoples good and universal happiness. Now this foundation laid, let us see how this quali­ty is to be used; and whether to be unactive and out of all imployment; So proposing to forget no circumstance that may justifie our courage in these actions, which I have or shall undertake in exposing my life to the most eminent perils of War. It is most certain, that if it ought (at any time) to shine more eminently in a Prince, it should be at the Commenceme [...]t of his life, of his reign, and of his conquests: this is the chiefest instance, when a Prince makes the lustre of his Crown to shine, and when he im­printeth the marks of honour in the hearts of his friends and enemies; his [Page 182] courage amazing the one, and animating the others: Whoever hath a hand valiant enough to serve gloriously with his Sword, need not fear or doubt but that he may sway the Grandure of a Scepter; and to this purpose (on all oc­casions) a Noble Prince is obliged to give solemn testimonies of his valour. As for all other vertues, they cannot appear so eminently in him: Justice and Clemency may flow from his invisible orders; but valour is immedi­ately transcient from his person. Experience maketh grand Politicians and great Captains; but they can never gain the reputation of valour with­out their own personal appearance. This is a way to honour, to which an illiterate and private Souldier may be admitted to climb. And how shall a Prince render himself commendable to his Subjects, or formidable to his Enemies; who is not furnished with this glorious quality? Kingly affairs admit not alwayes leasure to books, nor solitary hours of study and con­templation. His office is ever to be active, and valour is a Native quality which encreaseth with exercise. This is a guift of nature, and falls from the hand of Heaven, and is imbodied in the life of man; so consequently, being a natural inclination, instructeth that Prince so qualified, that he imploy the vertue thereof for the good of his Estate, and the glory of his Renown. If Nature had intended otherwise, Prudence or Justice might have bin a more early quality then Valour; but we see the contrary, and the youngest Infants sooner learn to shew their courage, then to express the vigour of any other vertues. The order which is established in all the Universe is too just to be contradicted; and men can never do more judiciously then by follow­ing the rules of natural and primitive intentions. Agriculture (how fertile and fruitful soever it improves) expects not the flower before the blossom, nor the fruit before the flower. The skilful Gardner endeavours to hasten the maturity of his fruits; but not to change or disorder their Nature. Those who approach near the Thrones of Princes, ought not to presume to infuse the Rules of Prudence into their Princes ears, before they have given him firm assurances of their courage; Crowns though they are to be at­tended with Councellours, yet not with Cowards: and Princes make their best advantage, when (following the direction of Nature) their Valour is first discerned and most illustrious in them. The suspition of not being coura­gious, may disanimate the stoutest Subjects, and encourage the basest and lowest Enemies. And if Valour alone effecteth such noble enterprises, what will not the prudently Couragious be able to atcheive? In effect, that no­ble report which dilateth it self at the Commencement of a Princes reign, is marvellous important to all the concernments of his life. As for renown, she will take more pleasure in proclaiming of his valour, then of his bounty; and flying round the world, will more divulge and blazon his honour, and the effects of his courage, then those of his Prudence and Justice. History will charge her self voluntarily with the memory of his Victories which he hath gained over his Enemies, and make them to shadow his errors (if any) and the infirmities of his passion. The rest of his vertues clad in a more silent robe, or lapt up in private Panegyricks will shine as they are shadowed from the Pencils of private persons. But as for all the circumstances of his valour, they shall swell in Volums of universal History. His other qualities may be contented to be confined to the borders of his own Dominions and Coun­tries: but his valour will constantly travail over all the Universe. His friends and his enemies will both talk; these out of love, those out of fear; both will speak his honor, and so immortalize the glory of a valiant Prince: so that no person shall be able to detract or derogate from his renown. In the Conduct [Page 183] of War, much is (ofttimes) attributed to the experience of the General, or to the Result of Councell: but no dimunition can rob a valiant spirit of his honor. Aristotle added something to the Glory of Alexander, by the infusion of sweetness and moderation, as Plutarch did in that kind, in that of Trajan; but neither the one nor the other inspired their valour and gene­rosity. All the Tracts which were ever written, cannot present the guifts of fortitude. Heaven and Nature concur in the plantation of that quality in the hearts of men. The Battail of D'Issus, and that of Arbella, were so much Alexanders; and that of Daces so much Trajans, that the Combats and the Victories were their own entirely: where no person durst presume to claim a share or part in those honorable enterprises. It was (without doubt) that the Illustrious Macedonian (on this sole occasion) would not admit that Ephe­stian should be named with Alexander in that action; it being certain that Valour is the only Mistress, of which all noble Heroes are tender and jea­lous. Now if it be advantagious to a Prince to be valiant being young, it is much more rational to be couragious when he is first a King. As for my self, If I had not rendred my reign more memorable by my first actions against the Polanders and the Muscovites, it might well have been that I should not have caused (at this present) the Empire, and all Germany to tremble: but on the contrary (perhaps) I might have seen all mine own Territories invaded, or my self forced to a shameful exile, or confined to a base imprisonment. It is certain that the most important actions of a King (in all his life) are those when he first mounteth towards his Throne; & then when he declares a War against a formidable and puissant Enemy. And yet not to leave the interest of that noble Subject (of which we speak) when conjunctures grow dangerous, and innovations threaten a change of Gover­ment; the Prince is then to be most vigorous, and to fortifie his designs with his courage. In the suspition of great revolutions, terror and fear are excellent means to keep the world close to their duty; and on the contrary, timidity, slow and dull consultations do but prepare and promote Revolts, and encou­rage factions & seditions. For though valor do not always act wth her sword in her hand; yet she hath a constant influence and continued operation over all the people. She enters into the Councels as wel as Prudence, and though Prudence give advice, it is valor that receiveth and acteth the bold and hardy resolutions; and she is the chiefest cause that inclineth Princes to clemency. If Jul. Caesar had not bin truly valiant, he could not have pardoned his grea­test enemies. As for Fear it suffers not those to live whom true Valour scorns, great and terrible Murders had followed in the battails of Pharsalia. If that great Emperor had not scorn'd death, he would have caused slain the greatest number of the Romans. Augustus forbore his proscriptions and Massacres on the Triumvirats only on this ground, being certain that his valor & courage did so transcend, that it could cause his inclinations to mercy. It was this that preserved Cinna from perishing, when his conspiracies had trained him to such perils, and Livia so much solicited against him for his ruine. All no­ble Heroes have done nothing worthy, their memory wherein their valour hath not bin most prevalent in their perswasions & resolutions As for Cow­ards they dare not resolv whether to punish or pardon, but in a suspence; fearing the complices or the conspirators, they less incline to pardon: & cruelty being their natural inclination, their fears increase only, and they desire to ruine all; provided that that desolation might render security and repose to themselvs. This Passion doth worse becom Kings, whom if the Subjects once discern to be timerous, they speedily grow insolent & probably cause their Scepter to fal out of their trembling hands. But on the contrary a Prince should rather [Page 184] endeavour not only to be terrible in the apprehension of his own Subjects, but he is to make his courage to appear formidable to all the earth, especi­ally then when he sits upon a Throne. At that time this glorious quality imprinteth his respect with his Grandees and Nobles, and disperseth an aw­ful submission in the hearts of his people; and thus his courage command­ing both the one and the other, Peace and publique Tranquility proveth the result and consequence. Will a Prince pardon a great and eminent person, let him do it franckly without any regard to the suspition of his Train or Party, and look on him as an object of his mercy, not of his fear. And when he resolves to punish a potent and eminent offender, let him effect it with equal courage, and let his valour surmount all opposition and repug­nancie: let him as little fear death by the hand of an assassinate, as from the Army of an Enemy. He hath true repose of spirit who preserveth his reason entire, and neither lyes down nor riseth up in fear: For Valour makes him vigilant and suspicious, not base and timerous. In this condition, whe­ther he hath Peace or War, his Valour will make him worthy to be a King, and to be attended with honour. There is a time when young and tender age tolerates a Prince if he be not prudent and politique (that vertue is not gained but with riper years, and some experience:) but it is a great im­perfection (if not a vice) for a Prince even from his Cradle, not to manifest the seeds of valour. It must be then confessed clearly, that no occasion must be omitted that may manifest the beauty of this incomparable vertue, which is so precious at all seasons. And if a Prince may be permitted at any time to take off the edge, and so suspend the splendour of his courage; it is principally then, when he hath atchieved his conquests; then, when he reapeth the full harvest of his victories; but in his attempts he is to be as hardy and terrible as a Lion, that by a fortunate beginning he may make his passage easie and facile to his greatest future enterprises, and so to be ren­dred formidable and victorious: it is not only necessary to fight by Com­mission, but in person, as well to encourage their own Armies, as terrifie and amaze the Enemies. By such a Gallant deportment the Reputation of a Prince wil march far before the Prince himself, and proclaim farther the glo­ry of such a General, then the sound of Drums or Trumpets. His lustre will be seen farther then his Ensigns and Banners; and so the very terrour of his great and noble Name will batter the Walls, and open the gates of the strongest Forts and greatest Towns. As for those quiet and sleepy Prin­ces, who have no other thoughts, but for their own defence; and no other ambition but to guard their own Dominions from the Invasion of their Ene­mies; a lesser proportion of this noble quality may serve such thrifty per­sons: yet this high vertue, if planted in brests of Soveraign Power, ought not to be confined to such narrow bounds; for if there be no occasion to enlarge their Domination, there cannot be wanting some excellent and honourable motive to exercise their courage in relieving of some Noble Princes enduring an oppression or usurpation. But as for such who after the example of Alexander the Great, mind Heroick and Noble enterpri­ses; they think it glorious to quit their own Countries, preferring danger before a Bed of Down, and the glory of the Camp before the delicacies of the Court: they can seat Majesty as high in strange Countries as well as in their own; and create and elevate a Throne with a few clods and earthie turfs, and make that as terrible as covered all over with gold. Such no­ble and magnanimous spirits adventure to seek Death abroad, and resolve either to gain glory and an Empire, or to scorn Danger and trample Death [Page 185] under foot. Such invincible minds as these, are more active and couragious, they shake off dull and drowsie humours, kiss their Sword as their Mistress, look on Fame as their Herauld and ser­vant, and expect honour as their reward. These Martial Heroes abandoning fear will adventure their own persons (which are above and far more precious then all things else) to gain what they aime at, and those who will be superabundantly and tediously wise, are seldome more fortunate or more illustrious then what their birth and their Fathers valour hath made them. Besides these Arguments, if I shall consider the three ages of Man, his youth, his manhood, and his old age; the season wherein I have chiefly exercised courage is most suitable and proper, which is equally distanced from the in­firmities of the one, and the debilities of the other. When the strength of body accompanied the vigor of the mind, at which con­juncture it were a thing more irrational, and a kind of an affront and abuse to Nature, not to be then more sprightful and active; and consequently more ambitious of an immortal and a glorious name. If Experience be so perfect a guide in great and famous enterprises, ought I not then to do now as I have already, so often having so well suc­ceeded? you know how that when I was but seventeen years of age; I was constrained (on the same day) to take my Scepter with one hand, and my Sword in the other, and so forced to defend my Crown: how I was (at those years) invaded by the Danes, Polanders, and Muscovites; and while these Wars continued I found it most agreeable with my honor as well as with my affairs to be with the first in the field, and with the last at the retreat. I believe you cannot forget those eminent effects which I accom­plished in all these several Countries, and with what precipitation and ho­nourable danger I have been (ofttimes seen) to pass the Frontiers of Denmark, to those of Muscovie, and from those of Muscovie to those of Polony: and if I had on those occasions so much need, I have (at present) equal invitation to the greatest activity of my personal valour. For as the design is more high and noble, so ought all circumstances which aim at it. Besides some permission is due to my natural inclinations, that I may regulate my conduct according (to my prevision and foresight) with better successes. And if I should continue with the main body of my Army I might (probably) not onely endanger and hazard my self, but all. No, it is more proper that I go my self and view the countenance and squadrons of my Enemies, if I intend to vanquish them. I shall thereby put more life and resolution into my own Souldiers; and when they fight I shall the more ably discern how to take a more perfect advan­tage on the Enemies forces, or feebleness, with whom I am to com­bat. And as I have considered what is most necessary in Order to mine own interest, so I am to discern the inclinations of the People and Souldiers who follow me. All Climats produce not the same tempers, and my Souldiers being of a more Northerly birth and education, expect a more vigorous and active example for their conduct. Not but that they are valiant, stout, and hardy; yet withal, they like the adventures better, when their Commanders are in the Vanguard, and the General in the Front of the Battail: and it were great shame and imprudence, not to be forward where one noble Example may so elevate their courage and resolution. [Page 186] The coldness of the Climate hath some communication with theit Nature, which being warmed and throughly enflamed by their Princes valour, the Souldiers scorn Death and Danger, and grow as ambitious of vanquishing the Enemies, as the Prince himself; and if their courage be not somewhat quickned and advanced by some eminent and notable action of their Prince, it may fall out that they may fail in their duty; and the Prince may (possibly) lose his honour, with his life, and all that is dear unto him. To these reasons I may farther add, that Prince who finds himself not at the head of an Army, consistent of an hundred thousand men, but onely com­mands a lesser number of Troops and Regiments, in case his Soul­diers march slowly, and advance fearfully; such a Prince ought to be able roundly to tell his timorous and daunted Souldiers, that his Royal Per­son is as considerable as the vast numbers of the Enemies forces; o­therwise he had done more discreetly not to have commenced a War, but rather lived securely in peace. And it is also as true when a Prince taketh a view of his Army, and examineth his Ma­gazines of Ammunition, he ought at the same time to consult with his owne heart, and not so much depend on the numbers of his Soul­diers, or the strength and terrour of his Engines, as on his owne cou­rage and magnanimity. Moreover, if we consider well who our E­nemies are, we shall finde they are the very same, who fought so stout­ly, and caused so many Roman Legions to perish and fall. Yes, they are the very same People with whose force and power Grand Arminius (that noble Captain) did so many things. Most, or all other Nations are clean changed from those Martial and Warlike humours, wherewith they were so illustrious for their hostility. Rome is not now what it was in Julius Caesars reigne, but is grown more effeminate and delicate. Or if it still continue glorious, it is more for the Arts and Sciences which flourish best in Peace, then for the exercise of War; and more honoureth (at present) the Rules of Mercury, then of Mars. The noble Macedonians are grown dispirited and servile slaves; and the Empire of Greece, is not what it was under the reign of Philip and Alexander the Great, but they lead the lives of humble Vassals, contented with servitude and besotted ignorance. But Germany is still the same, the People as couragious and warlike as in the times of the Romans; as able and resolute for resistance, and so successful with their valour as never entirely subdued and con­quered by that mighty Empire. That very place where Varrus lost his life as well as the Battail, continues still peopled with as many stout and brave mindes as it was, when it opposed all the Roman Forces. There is onely this difference, that our Arms and undertak­ings are more justifiable then theirs; and therefore if we intend to vanquish them we must take the same course which they used who conquered the World, committing our selves and fortunes volun­tarily to Providence; and couragiously exposing our selves (without all fear) with hopes to attain that glorious end, at which our valour aimeth. It is for the liberties of all Germany, that we have taken up our Arms; it is for the repose and safety of our Friends and Allies, it is for a just revenge upon our Enemies, and true glory and renown, that we desire victory: and consequently, such great Atchievements [Page 187] must be attended with all diligent and noble Circumstances that may procure and facilitate our Conquests. To this purpose (if there be occafior) I must not refuse to be General of the Army, Martial of the field, Major General, an ordinary Captain, Engineer, Canoneer, or a private Souldier, as well as a King; and thus according to the di­versions of my affairs, I am to proceed and act as an experienc'd and forward Prince, who know my owne business as well or better then any who fight or follow me. Those who conclude that a Prince is the life and soul of his Army, are surely of my judgment, and resolve where the undertakings are so great and illustrious, the way cannot but be dangerous, and therefore requires greater courage as well as policy. The soul (we know) est tota in toto, as the Philo­sopher saith, and so must the Prince be in every part of his Army, giving life and operation to every member; so causing the feet to march, the hands to fight, the ears to hearken, the eyes to watch, and all parts to perform their several duties: have you not observed with what order and courage my Souldiers have followed me, when I have marched in the head of my army; specially then, when I lead them towards the very mouth of danger: And think you that if they lead me and I followed them, that they would have advanced with equal courage? No, no, I know that one stroke with my Sword strikes the Enemie as deep as a thousand of others of lower quality: And What doth not shame, example, emulation, hope of honour, expectation of Reward, and recompence from the hands of a King. What (I say) doth not such means effect and operate? This Intuition and care moveth effectually every particular person in the Army, and caus­eth each one to do his duty impartially; so that some may rudely interpret that temerity which proveth greatest prudence: but (per­haps) you may tell me; if the Enemy understand that I am da­ringly in the head of my Army, they will aim at none so much, as at my self; and therefore multiply their volleys against me: to that I answer, It is no smal degree of honour to be such an object of terrour, and such a noble mark, which scorneth the enemies forces, though never so numerous. Besides, my Souldiers who see my valour, cannot but be so ambitious of my preservation, as to guard me with the wishes of their hearts, as well as defend me with the stoutness of their hands; and whatever shall succeed, the presence of majesty cannot but make them fight like Lions, when they see their Prince ingaged, and com­passed about with equal danger; as for mine Enemies, such couragious On-sets would make them faint and fly, or gallantly force their Pikes and Swords to fall from their hands. Now as my presence will inspire courage into those of my Army, so it will dispoil and strip the Enemy of that noble quality, and so force them to submit to our invincible spirit and courage: where, if I should proceed less generously, I might probably rather give incouragement, then gain so many conquests of mine Enemy. I know the way to honour is full of difficulties, but it is true, as rich mines lie deep and dan­gerous; beautiful Lyllies grow in the midst of Thornes; so is it with true Renown and Glory. I am not Ignorant, that death oft-times attends and arests as familiarly the greatest Generals and Princes, as the meanest Souldiers; but such a death is most honourable, [Page 188] and the Eccho thereof resoundeth to all the Corners of the Earth. As for mine owne resolution and humour, I had rather lose the bat­tel, where I have the honour to fight my self, then to gain a battel where I have not fought with mine owne hands. Cease then (noble Chancellor) to set any farther limits, and to confine my courage with any bounds, leave me to the vigour and activity of this noble vertue, which so much animateth all the faculties of my soul. Our Troops are feeble, our Enemies strong, our designs great, the eyes of all the earth observe our Motion, and superintend our Actions; it be­comes not us then, to be slow or short in any part of our duty; let us fight couragiously, let us fall upon our Enemies like a violent Torrent, with thunder and lightning; and not like a gentle River move slowly and timerously; our pretentions are not ordinary, therefore our actions must be generous: Let us march through all Germany, and manifest our courage through every part of it; and if it shall so arrive, that our valour be recompensed with a direful sad unfortunate conclusion, we doubt not, but that our death will be glorious, and our name immortal; and if we do not perfect our Conquests, the world cannot (in justice) but rank us in the number and order of the most illustrious Conquerours.

THE CENSƲRE.

MUch veneration and honour is due to the memory of this great Prince, he is to be looked on as a most noble Hero, and invincible Worthy, as the mar­vel and wonder of his age: yet it is true, that Soveraign Princes having such eminent fortunes, and so many great affairs meerly attending their persons; it doth most infinitely concerne them, for the general good of their subjects and Souldiers, to be careful and preservative of themselves. That famous, but sad day, wherein the King was slain, hath verified (but too cruelly) this truth, when this Prince lost his life, by the violence and Ardor of his owne opinion; when his valour marched so forwardly in the Van. Though fortune had oft-times presented him with successes and victories, yet she is not alwayes constant in her friendship. It is to be feared he was too much assured of the continuation of her favours, and it may be he depended too little on prudence, and too much on the Roman Proverb; which said, that Destiny doth all; or on Predestination, which (as some say) orders and determines both means and ends, which is the Doctrine of the Calvinists and the Turks. Though it is rather true, that eve­ry one is the Artist of his own fortune. Philosophy tels us as well as Poetry, that sapiens dominabitur astris; a wise man is able to resist the influence of the Stars; which though they incline, yet do not force nor constrain the disposition. This King, though a most illustrious Prince for his valour, condescended very low, and appeared too excessively couragious in the office of a common Trooper: the head and the hand have two different functions; fortune is not always propiti­ous, nor doth she make every Conquerour her darling, as she did Alexander: that which she did for him in the Town of Oxidragues, and on many re-encoun­ters, are not examples to others to adventure on Alexanders dangers, or to hope for his successes; for her favours to him may rather be accounted Prodigies and Wonders, then common degrees of fortunes courtesies. Homer who was so judi­cious in his Epithites, and knew how properly to place them throughout his Illi­ads, commonly gives that of Sage or Prudent to Agamemnon; but that of Brave or Valiant to Achilles: to note the difference, which in the conduct of Armies, ought to be betwixt a royal Prince and a private person. It is true, that a bed of honour is as glorious and acceptable to a noble Prince, as a throne of Ivory or Gold, and to dye Tryumphantly and win the battel, is to live eternally in the memory of men. As for this Prince, if he did not (before he dyed) confine his valour to greater moderation, it was rather to be imputed his misfortune, then his errour; for having enjoyed so many glorious fruits of his dangers, his victo­ries and his tryumphs; why might he not still have presumed on the same suc­cess? all the world did favour him with Apologies; nay, gave him the testi­mony of honour and commendations, when he sostoutly assaulted the Isle of Ru­gen, and at that great attempt gave so grand a reputation to his Armies, that he seemed to have effected impossibilities. Now if that course which was so fortunate in so many re-encounters, was not so successful at the fatal battail of Lutzen: let the whole Earth confess it was not great Gustavus want of con­duct but of fortune: he had already conquered above Ten Provinces, and subdued Three hundred Towns: why might not this day have given him leave to survive his Enemies, and to have enjoyed the Triumphs of his victo­ries? [Page 190] but in some kind it may be said of Wars, as tis of Playes: Old Gamesters think it not fit to hazard, and adventure all they have gained at one stake. But seeing things past can not be revoked; let us not farther trouble this im­mortal Hero, nor interrupt the repose of his Glorious Sepulchre. The great worth of this unparalleld Prince is out of the reach of envy, and (probably) of imitation. His name is too bright and glorious to be spotted with derogation, and tis fit for none to approach near his Ashes, but such who bedew their eyes with tears, and force an amazedness on their souls with sighs, for the loss of so great a Champion: whose Trophies are so illustrious, and magnificent, that whoever considers his great Atchievements, may not onely have an abundance of satisfaction for his curiosity, but be astonish't with admiration.

FINIS.

Tuesday 6. December, 1653. At the Council of State at Whitehal.

ORDERED,

That Mr Thurloe be appointed by the Council, to assigne such persons as he shall think fit, to print the Book, entituled, CURIA POLITIAE; and that no other Person whatsoever do presume to print the same without leave first had from Mr. Thurloe, for the doing thereof.

JOHN THƲRLOE▪ Secr'

I Do appoint Humphrey Moseley to print this Book, and that none else do print the same.

John Thurloe.

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