The True history of the Duke of Guise extracted out of Thuanus, Mezeray, Mr. Aubeny's Memoirs and the Journal of the reign of Henry the Third of France : published for the undeceiving such as may perhaps be imposed upon by 1683 Approx. 80 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 19 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2005-12 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). A63523 Wing T2703 ESTC R23195 12493753 ocm 12493753 62449

This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal. The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission.

 Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A63523) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 62449) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 299:9) The True history of the Duke of Guise extracted out of Thuanus, Mezeray, Mr. Aubeny's Memoirs and the Journal of the reign of Henry the Third of France : published for the undeceiving such as may perhaps be imposed upon by Thou, Jacques-Auguste de, 1553-1617. Mézeray, François Eudes de, 1610-1683. Aubigné, Agrippa d', 1552-1630. Mémoires. L'Estoile, Pierre de, 1546-1611. Journal de Henri III. English. [6], 30 p. Printed and are to be sold by R. Baldwin, London : 1683. Reproduction of original in Huntington Library.

Created by converting TCP files to TEI P5 using tcp2tei.xsl, TEI @ Oxford.

EEBO-TCP is a partnership between the Universities of Michigan and Oxford and the publisher ProQuest to create accurately transcribed and encoded texts based on the image sets published by ProQuest via their Early English Books Online (EEBO) database (http://eebo.chadwyck.com). The general aim of EEBO-TCP is to encode one copy (usually the first edition) of every monographic English-language title published between 1473 and 1700 available in EEBO.

EEBO-TCP aimed to produce large quantities of textual data within the usual project restraints of time and funding, and therefore chose to create diplomatic transcriptions (as opposed to critical editions) with light-touch, mainly structural encoding based on the Text Encoding Initiative (http://www.tei-c.org).

The EEBO-TCP project was divided into two phases. The 25,363 texts created during Phase 1 of the project have been released into the public domain as of 1 January 2015. Anyone can now take and use these texts for their own purposes, but we respectfully request that due credit and attribution is given to their original source.

Users should be aware of the process of creating the TCP texts, and therefore of any assumptions that can be made about the data.

Text selection was based on the New Cambridge Bibliography of English Literature (NCBEL). If an author (or for an anonymous work, the title) appears in NCBEL, then their works are eligible for inclusion. Selection was intended to range over a wide variety of subject areas, to reflect the true nature of the print record of the period. In general, first editions of a works in English were prioritized, although there are a number of works in other languages, notably Latin and Welsh, included and sometimes a second or later edition of a work was chosen if there was a compelling reason to do so.

Image sets were sent to external keying companies for transcription and basic encoding. Quality assurance was then carried out by editorial teams in Oxford and Michigan. 5% (or 5 pages, whichever is the greater) of each text was proofread for accuracy and those which did not meet QA standards were returned to the keyers to be redone. After proofreading, the encoding was enhanced and/or corrected and characters marked as illegible were corrected where possible up to a limit of 100 instances per text. Any remaining illegibles were encoded as <gap>s. Understanding these processes should make clear that, while the overall quality of TCP data is very good, some errors will remain and some readable characters will be marked as illegible. Users should bear in mind that in all likelihood such instances will never have been looked at by a TCP editor.

The texts were encoded and linked to page images in accordance with level 4 of the TEI in Libraries guidelines.

Copies of the texts have been issued variously as SGML (TCP schema; ASCII text with mnemonic sdata character entities); displayable XML (TCP schema; characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or text strings within braces); or lossless XML (TEI P5, characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or TEI g elements).

Keying and markup guidelines are available at the Text Creation Partnership web site.

 eng Guise, Henri, -- duc de, 1550-1588. Henry -- III, -- King of France, 1551-1589. Dryden, John, 1631-1700. -- Duke of Guise. 2005-06 Assigned for keying and markup 2005-06 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2005-07 Sampled and proofread 2005-07 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2005-10 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion

The TRUE HISTORY OF THE DUKE OF GUISE. EXTRACTED out of Thuanus, Mezeray, Mr. Aubeny's Memoirs, and the Journal of the Reign of Henry the third of France.

Publiſhed for the undeceiving ſuch as may perhaps be impoſed upon by Mr. Dryden's late Tragedy of the Duke of Guiſe. Together with ſome Remarks upon the ſame.

LONDON, Printed and are to be Sold by R. Baldwin, 1683.

TO THE READER.

TIS a mad World my Maſters! The fiery Crape-Gowns vex the Pulpit, and the hot brain'd Poets wreſt prophane Hiſtory.

For certainly the Tragedy of the Duke of Guiſe, was a thing ſet on foot meerly to try how far the limits of Poetica Licentia might extend. Whether it might be lawful for a Man to give an ill Character of his Sovereign in Verſe, and to parallel a vertuous Prince, and belov'd of his ſubjects, with a Prince diſeſteem'd and almoſt forſaken by his People, for the ill management of his Government; becauſe it is a hanging matter to do it in Proſe. Or whether it might be lawful for a Poet to expoſe the Majeſty of his Royal parallel and bring him in upon the Stage of a publick Play-Houſe, Courting and kneeling to his Rebell's Miſireſs in Verſe, which could have hardly enter'd into the thought of the moſt vile Aſſociated Ribald to have done in Proſe. True it is, the Hiſtorians tell us of a certain Charming Lady to whom the Duke of Guiſe was reading Ovids de Arte Amandi, all the night long before the Tragical Morning, and that ſhe kept him ſo long a led to exerciſe the practical part, that ſhe made him the greateſt Truant in the whole Aſſembly; but whether this were the Vertuous Marmontier or no, is the Queſtion. If it were ſhe, it ſhews the damnable ill conduct of the Poet, to compare the paillardiſe of French Tyranny with the gravity and Sobriety of Engliſh Sovereignty. But if it were the unſpotted and reſolv'd Marmontier, then the Poet did moſt ungraciouſly, to make his Royal Parallel chafing and teazing the Honour and Chaſtity of an unblemiſhed Maiden upon the publick Theater.

To tell the truth, Gentlemen, it was neither the one nor the other; for it was Madam de Montpenſier, that interceded for the Duke her Brothers coming to Paris to juſtifie his Crimes, and gave the Sixteen notice of the Kings juſt indignation againſt them, only the Poet was reſolved to bring the Duke of Guiſe Miſtreſs in, to make her honeſt if he could, for Decorum's ſake, tho it had been more proper to have whor'd her, conſidering his propenſe malice to the Duke. And then 'twas a curſed miſtake to bring the King in, ſo paſſionately Courting a Woman, whom all the Hiſtories report to be another way inclin'd. He had his Quelus's, his D' O's, his Villequiers, and his Valete's, and a peculiar way of hampering the Refractory by letting down the Lid of a great Cheſt upon their reins, while they were ſtooping and ſearching by Command for what was known to be never there. Certainly the Poet might have found out ſome far more ſtainleſs Pattern of Heaven's lending to the World, in honour of his Royal Parallel, if it may not be thought his Play was rather intended for a Libel than a Tragedy. Which the Poet therefore call'd a Tragedy, becauſe he would not be ſaid to jeſt with edg'd Tools. And then again what a pleaſant thing it is to ſee the Poet make his Duke of Guiſe, newly recover'd from the Agonies of fore-boded miſchief, in the midſt of a hundred amuſing thoughts, ſending his paſſionate recommendations and Careſſes to his Strumpet, by the mouth of a Cardinal, the higeſt dignity of his Religion?

However Monſieur Grillon is monſtrouſly indebted to the Poet for advancing his ſuppoſed Daughter to the Dukes love and the Kings Courtſhip, tho God be thanked, as the Poet has ordered the matter, ſhe withſtands 'em both. A man would admire at it at firſt, ſhe being but of mortal compoſition. But when you hear the Poet hyperbolizing at ſuch a rate, and ſwearing by the Powers that made him, that were it poſſible we could be damn'd again by ſome new Eve, her vertue might redeem us, 'tis no wonder the King and the Duke loſt their labour. However Grillon was mightily pleas'd, and but for the roughneſs of his Arms, he would have kiſs'd her beauty to a diſſolution. Who would not now wiſh to ſee the Poets Temples bedeck't like a Barbers Window at Chriſtmas for two ſuch Enthuſiaſtick Ebullitions? In good ſooth, they were two moſt ſoaring raptures, Alamode de l' eſprit rampant, as the French Man call's it; in ſhort, two ſtrain'd points between God Almighties Providence, and flat nonſenſe. But Grillon is yet more oblig'd to the Poet for bringing him in ſwaggering and domineering over the Baricaders, who were themſelves the Triumphant party. Nay the Sheriffs, which Grillon beats, were the Kings own friends too, and diſplac'd by the Barricaders themſelves when they got the power in their hands, ſo little did the Poet conſider what he was doing. But two Sheriffs were to be beaten right or wrong, tho they were the Kings friends, yet being Sheriffs they were to be bang'd, and who ſo fit as Grillon, the Kings Friend to do it? Yet when you conſider Gentlemen, that this was a Tragedy made to be laugh'd at, 'twas well enough.

Had the Poet exercis'd his pains upon the Popiſh Plot, he could not but have bin much more ſucceſsful in his fancy. For he would have found the Plot of the Barricaders and the Popiſh Plot ſo like, as if it had bin ſpit out of the very Mouth of it. The contrivance of both was by the bigoted Roman Catholicks. They both deſign'd the Deſtruction of their lawful Prince; they both aſſur'd themſelves of a Popiſh Cheiftain. The diſcovery alſo of both was in the ſame manner; the one, by Nicholas Polaine, the other by Titus Oates; their motives the ſame; an abhorrency of the Villany's intended. Their Opportunities the ſame; as being both confederates, and admitted to the private meetings and conſults of the Complotters. The ſame difficulties, the ſame obſtructions in being beleiv'd. Only the perſon that took the Firſt depoſitions of Polaine had the good luck to eſcape Cravatting or being Sr. Edmund Bury Godfrey'd; which was the peculiar ſignal difference between the Popiſh Plot and the Barricaders Plot carry'd on by the D. of Guiſe.

But as the Poet has manag'd his Tragedy, 'tis true, a man may gueſs what he intends, but there is no more of Head nor Tayl in his Tragical contrivance, of botching and fitting the Story to his purpoſe; no more of truth or reſemblance in his Characters, then if he had brought the Fable of Endymion to prove the Ebbing and Flowing of the Sea. The Papiſts had better have given him the Poets third Day to have held his peace; for he has ſo reviv'd the Storyes of the Pariſian Maſſacre, and the memory of the Barricaders moſt damnable Contrivances againſt their Soveraign, that he has put new life into the drooping Credit of the Popiſh Plot, rais'd almoſt from the Grave the Horror of Popiſh cruelty and diſloyalty, deſtroyed all that R. L. has been labouring to make good almoſt theſe two twelve months, and may truly be ſaid to be another Titus Oates, bringing new Lights into the World, and new Diſcoverys of Jeſuitical Maſſacre and Treaſon.

However it is a Tragedy: For that all the World muſt grant; becauſe 'tis Lamentable all over; of which there needs no more be ſaid then what the Poet himſelf has been pleas'd to ſay of it in his Epilogue, with a little ſmall Amendment.

Much Time and Trouble this Poor Play has coſt, And faith I doubt me, that the Cauſe is loſt.
THE HISTORY OF THE Duke of Guiſe.

FRANCIS the Firſt, King of France, was the firſt who Erected the County of Guiſe into a Dukedom and Peerdom, in favour of Claudius of Lorrain, in the year 1527.

In the Reign of Henry the Second, his Succeſſour, the Houſe of Guiſe grew into Splendour more and more, by the Acceſſion of new Honours and Dignities, and the increaſe of its Power and Authority in the Court of France; at what time Duke Claudius, and John his Brother Biſhop of Metz, called the Cardinal of Lorrain, being dead, Francis, Duke of Aumale, took upon him his Fathers Title; and Charles his Brother, whom they called the Cardinal of Guiſe, aſſumed both his Uncles Title and all his Benefices. The Duke in that Eſtate advanced his own, and the Power of his Houſe, not ſo much by his own merit, which however was very high in eſteem, as by his Complacency and Obſervances toward the King's Miſtreſſes; by whoſe aſſiſtance he eaſily depriv'd Peter Lizet, firſt Preſident of the Parliament of his Employment, for preſuming to thwart his Deſigns, and brought him upon his Knees to beg ſome ſmall Benefice for his ſubſiſtance in the World.

But that which much more added to the Fame and Renown of this growing Family, was the great Proſperity of Charles, the Son of this Frances, in ſeats of Arms; as being the Perſon who had firſt defended Metz againſt the Emperour, who after he had lain two Months before the City, in the extremity of Winter, was forced to raiſe his Siege with the loſs of 30000 men. His next Exploit was the recovery of France from that Conſternation it was in, after the loſs of the Battel of St. Quintin, with the Title of Lieutenant General of the Armies of the King, both within and without the Kingdom: After that he took Calice from the Engliſh, and utterly expell'd them out of France; ſo that the Misfortune of France, was his Happineſs; and the waining of the Conſtable's Reputation, was his Exaltation; it being then the general Opinion, that the Armes of France could proſper under no Mans Conduct, but that of the Duke of Guiſe. But that which mounted his Authority yet higher, was the Marriage of his Siſters Daughter, the young Queen of Scots, with the Dauphin, afterwards King for a ſhort time.

Henry the Second being unfortunately kill'd in a Tournament, by the Earl of Montgomery, the Breath was no ſooner out of his Mouth, but all the Factions which had been forming, during his Reign, began to ſhew themſelves in Motion. And unfortunately to ſtrengthen them in their various Motions, there concurr'd the differing Parties in Religion, the great number of Malecontents, ſundry Deſirers and Lovers of Novelty, and great numbers of Military Perſons, who being out of Employment, ſought it at any price whatever.

On the one ſide the Princes of the Blood, and the Conſtable of France united in Intereſt; on the other ſide the Princes of the Houſe of Guiſe; between which two Parties the Queen-Mother chaffer'd the beſt ſhe could for her own advantage, flattering now this, then the other Party, while the King, as Feeble in Mind as Body, lay expos'd to the firſt Occupant; and the Prize for which they contended, was the Government of the Kingdom. The Princes of the Blood, were Anthony of Navarre, Voluptuous and Timerous, more conſiderable for his Quality, than his Power: Lewis, Prince of Conde, Bold and Hardy, whoſe Courage and ſcantneſs of Fortune were ſufficient Motives to incite him to great Enterprizes.

Of the Guiſes there were ſix Brothers, the Duke of Guiſe, the Cardinal of Lorrain, the Duke of Aumale, the Cardinal of Guiſe, the Marquis D'Elbeuf, and the Grand Prior; but the two firſt were the moſt conſiderable, and had the other four at their Devotion. The Duke was Signal for the Reputation of his Valour, his Liberality and Affability, the Cardinal of Lorrain for his Eloquence and Learning: The one had all the Greateſt and moſt Eminent Souldiers, the other the chiefeſt part of the Clergy at his Command.

The Guiſes ſeiz'd upon the Perſon of the King, as having Married their Niece, Mary of Scotland, under the ſpecious pretence of the Catholick Religion. The Princes made ſure of the Malecontents and Disbanded Officers, under pretence of protecting thoſe of the Reformed Religion; whoſe deſpair was more formidable, however, than their Number.

With the Guiſes join'd the Marquis of St. Andre, Valiant and Witty, but Prodigal and in Debt; and the Conſtable Montmorency, who having been Chief Miniſter of State, could not well brook to be the Second; but bearing the Title of Firſt Chriſtian Baron of France, took part at length with the Guiſes, as Defenders of the Catholick Religion.

To the Princes adher'd the Admiral Coligny, with his Brother Dandelot, Colonel of the French Infantry.

In the mean time the Guiſes, together with the Queen-Mother, were Maſters of the King, and all the Authority at Court, the King declaring that he had given up the Adminiſtration of the Government into the Hands of his two Uncles.

The Conſtable finding his Authority was quite marching, ſends away in all haſte to the King of Navar, to come and aſſume that Authority which he claimed by his Birth and Quality; but he being ſlow and irreſolute, and diffident of the Conſtable, made no haſte, which was look'd upon as one of the principal Cauſes of the Troubles and Misfortunes of France.

While he delays, the Guiſes baniſh the Dutcheſs of Valentinois, the late King's Miſtreſs; the Conſtable is ſent home to his Houſe, and by various and ſpecious Pretences the reſt of the Princes that ſtood in the way of their Deſigns are honourably diſpatch'd abroad, and the Duke of Guiſe made Grand Maſter of the King's Houſe, which Employment was taken from the Conſtable on purpoſe to beſtow it on the Duke.

To make themſelves the more formidable, or rather to root themſelves more deeply in the Favour of the Catholicks, they perſuaded the young King to publiſh an Edict, prohibiting the Proteſtants to meet in publick or private, upon the ſcore of Religion, on pain of Death; and erected a new Court to take cogniſance of their Crimes, which was called by the name of Chambres ardentes, The Burning Chambers, becauſe they ſent all to the Fire that were convicted of the Reformed Religion.

Theſe outragious Proceedings cauſed them firſt to betake themſelves to their Pens, and to publiſh ſeveral of their Writings againſt the Queen-Mother and the Duke of Guiſe; but at length the Prince of Conde, the Admiral, and Dandelot, united together, to conſult of a way to extinguiſh theſe Flames that threatned ſuch a general Conflagration. Thereupon they ſent to all the Reformed Churches, to ſend their Deputies to Nantes; where it was agreed, That they ſhould ſend a certain number of Perſons unmarried to preſent their Grievances to the King, and to endeavour to ſeiſe the Duke of Guiſe, and the Cardinal of Lorrain, to the end they might be brought to anſwer to ſuch Articles as ſhould be exhibited againſt them. But the Imprudence of la Renaudie diſcovered the Deſign, which made the Guiſes provide for their own Safety with all the Care imaginable.

The Duke caus'd the Title of Lieutenant-General to be confirmed to himſelf, as well in the Preſence as Abſence of the King, and rode always accompanied with a choſen Guard of Horſe; by which means the Conſpiracy intended to have been put in execution, for ſeiſing the Duke and the Cardinal at Amboiſe, came to nothing; onely that abundance of poor People were thereby deſtroy'd and ruin'd, of which near 1200 were hang'd, drown'd, and beheaded in the Streets of Amboiſe, that can with Blood; while the Queen-Mother, her three young Sons, and all the Court-Ladies, beheld the fatal Tragedy from the Battlements of the Caſtle.

The Prince of Conde was accus'd for being guilty of this Deſign, urg'd further upon him with an intention to have ſurpriz'd the King: But being admitted to his own Defence, he not onely made it with a wonderful Eloquence, but gave the Lie to all that durſt aſſert him Culpable. Which tho the Duke of Guiſe heard and knew, at whom the Prince aimed, yet with a profound Diſſimulation he prais'd the Princes Generoſity, and told him, he would be the firſt that ſhould maintain his Innocence himſelf, tho in private he had a little before given the Queen Advice to arreſt him.

Soon after another Deſign was detected, by the Weakneſs of la Sayne, for which the Prince of Conde was arreſted, and condemned to loſe his Head; and all by the Power of the Guiſes. Nor did any thing protect the Prince from being executed, but the imprudent Carriage of the Cardinal toward the Queen-Mother, who thinking his Capital Enemy was now irrecoverably loſt, began to contemn her, as one of whoſe Aſſiſtance there was now no longer need. So that ſhe perceiving her own Authority ſo much in danger, firſt deferr'd the King's ſigning the Warrant, and then (the King's Death immediately enſuing) ſet the Prince at full Liberty.

To Francis the Second, Charles the Ninth ſucceeded, at ten years of Age, and a little more than five Months. And now in ſtead of deſtroying others, the Guiſes had enough to do to preſerve themſelves. For the Prince of Conde is reſtor'd, and takes his Place in the Privy-Council, and, by Order of the Parliament of Paris, is declared Innocent of all things laid to his Charge. And at the ſame time the Admiral Colligni was alſo reſtor'd to Favour.

The Courage of the Guiſes was not at all abated by the Advancement of their Enemies, being upheld by the Catholick Party. Navarre takes a ſlight occaſion to quarrel with the Dake of Guiſe, and carried it ſo high, that he was about to have departed for Paris, with the Princes of the Blood, and the Conſtable, there to deliberate about the Government of the Kingdom.

This alarms the Queen and the Guiſes. Thereupon ſhe cloſes with the Conſtable, and cauſes the King to lay his Commands upon Navarre not to leave him; and the more to pleaſe Navarre, enlarges the Power of his Lieutenancy.

The Conſtable thus half gain'd, was at length quite brought over from the Princes Party, by the Perſuaſions and Importunity of the Dutcheſs of Valentinois, and ſome others, and ſo joyns again with the Guiſes and the Marſhal de St. Andre. And this Union was by the Hugonots call'd The Triumvirate.

However Honour not permitting the Conſtable to joyn openly with the Duke of Guiſe, while the Prince of Conde was his Enemy, thereupon they were by the King commanded to embrace each other, and to promiſe one toward another moſt ſincere and cordial Friendſhip.

Now as for the Admiral, as it was by his means that the King of Navarre had confirmed the Regency to the Queen-Mother, ſhe did not ſuffer her ſelf to be altogether guided by the Triumvirate, but gratefully ſubmitted likewiſe in ſeveral things to his Advice, and for his ſake procured ſeveral Favours in behalf of the Hugonot Party, which was the thing he aim'd at. And indeed the Services which the Admiral did her were ſo conſiderable, that ſhe gave order to her Embaſſadour at Rome to deſire Liberty of the Pope and the Cardinals, that the Communion might be adminiſtred in both Kinds, and Maſs ſaid in French within all the King's Dominions.

The Triumvirs could not endure the great Credit which the Admiral had with the Regent, and therefore retire from Court; but in a ſhort time after they make themſelves Maſters of the King's Perſon, upon which enſu'd a Bloody War between the Hugonots and the Catholicks; in which War Conde was taken Priſoner at the Battel of Dreux, and the Duke of Guiſe, having laid Siege to Orleans, the Head Quarter of the Hugonots, was aſſaſſinated by one Poltron, with a Piſtol diſcharg'd through his Shoulder, of which he died in ſix days after. And thereupon follow'd a Treaty, and then a Peace.

Not long after the Death of Charles, his Son Henry Duke of Guiſe appears upon the Stage of the World, newly returned from Poland, whither he went to ſerve his firſt Apprenticeſhip in War; firſt at Saumur, next at the Seige of Poitiers, which he defended againſt the Admiral Coligny, (for the War now broke forth again between the Hugonots and Catholicks) with a Courage equal to what his Father ſhewed at the Seige of Metz. The next thing we hear of him, not ſo much to his Honour, was, that the Pariſian Maſſacre, which was reſolved upon at the Inſtance of this young Duke of Guiſe, was firſt taken into deliberation, in that very Chamber at Blois, where the Duke was afterwards murdered himſelf. No queſtion but he was ſignally engaged in the Maſſacre, and took particular care concerning the Admiral, and his Son in Law Teligny, that they ſhould neither of them eſcape; a thing ſo well known to the King and Queen-Mother, that it was afterwards concluded in the Cabinet Council, to throw all the Odium of the Maſſacre upon the Guiſes, as being the moſt proper Subjects to bear the Reproach. However, the Duke and his Brother apprehending, as well they might, leſt the Queen-Mother ſhould one day lay the Accuſation of the Maſſacre upon their Backs, to their Deſtruction, inſiſted upon it ſo powerfully, having the Power in their Hands, the Catholick Nobility, the Duke of Mompenſier, and the Pariſians on their ſides, that they conſtrained the King to change his Note, and to publiſh every where, That what had happened was done by his Order, to prevent the Effects of a deteſtible Conſpiracy, which the Admiral and his Adherents had contrived, to the ruin of him, and all the Royal Family, the King of Navarre, and the Prince of Conde; for which, and ſome other reaſons, Charles the Ninth was reſolv'd, had he lived, to have brought down the haughty Pride and Glory of the Guiſian Family.

But he being dead, Henry the Third ſucceeded, who led by ill Council, preſently embroyl'd himſelf in a War with the Hugonots, whom his Brother, the Duke of Alanſon, ill treated by his Majeſty, had taken into his Protection: But the Duke being appeas'd, and Peace concluded, another Deſign was formed for their Deſtruction, which was called the Holy League, wherein the Duke of Guiſe was a main Stickler, not as he was a Favourite of the Kings, but tacked to the Intereſts of the Queen-Mother, for their own by ends; for otherwiſe they hated each other mortally: For the Kings Favourites, of which he had many, were none of the Dukes Friends, but ſuch as continually infus'd a jealouſie of him in the Kings Breaſt, putting him in mind of the offer which the Duke had made him, to prevent his going into Poland, and laying before the Kings Eyes certain Memoires, containing ſeveral Reaſons, which it was ſaid the Duke had ſent to the Pope to perſwade him to degrade the Houſe of Capet, which had uſurp'd the Crown, and to re-eſtabliſh the Line of Charlemain, from whence the Guiſes vaunted to be deſcended, in the Throne.

However it were, the King underſtanding that the Eſtates of the Kingdom were reſolved to deſire him to name a Captain for the League, and particularly the Duke of Guiſe, to prevent them, aſſumed the Title himſelf, and ſo ſigned it firſt with his own hand.

Againſt this the Proteſtants form another League, of which they declare the Prince of Conde Lieutenant General, under the Authority of the King of Navarre; and thus both Parties prepare for a new War.

The King raiſes two Armies at one time, and gives the Command of the one to his Brother, the Duke of Anjou. The Duke of Guiſe deſired the Command of the other, but the Enmity of the Duke of Anjou, and the Kings Jealouſie, denied him that Honour, which was conferred upon the Duke of Mayenne, his Brother, but to the great Conſolation of the Proteſtants, who were almoſt brought to the utmoſt extremity by the ſurrender of Rochel; and almoſt contrary to their expectation, a Peace was ſoon after concluded.

The ill will which the King and the Duke of Anjou bare the Duke of Guiſe, was as yet a thing concealed; but a quarrel of their Favourites openly diſcovered it.

Quelus, one of the Kings Minions, challenged Eutragues, who was the Dukes Favourite: Quelus choſe for his Seconds Livarrot and Maugiron, in the Kings favour likewiſe: Eutragues brought Ribeyra and Schombert. Maugiron was kill'd upon the place; Quelus wounded in nineteen places, ſo that he dyed within a Month. The King ſo paſſionately lov'd them both, that he kiſs'd them when dead, preſerv'd their White Locks in a Golden Box, and built them a ſumptuous Monument in the Church of St. Paul: A while after, St. Maigren being piſtoll'd by Order of the Duke of Mayenne, for boaſting a Familiarity with the Dutcheſs of Guiſe, the King entombed him richly likewiſe, and ſet up the Statues of all three over their Tombs.

The other Favourites apprehenſive of the ſame uſage, if they ventur'd to play with ſuch boiſtrous Gameſters, never ceas'd incenſing the King againſt the Duke and his Brother, by all the ways and reports they could deviſe, and to ſeek all other means to deſtroy them: So that the two Dukes thus put to defend themſelves, ſtopt not there, but carried it higher than perhaps they thought otherwiſe to have done: And they took their advantages from the continual Impoſitions which the King laid upon his Subjects, to ſatisfie the inordinate Luxury and Profuſneſs of his Favourites, which as it leſſened his eſteem among the People, the Guiſes failed not to aggravate to the utmoſt.

And the more to ſtrengthen their Faction, the Duke of Guiſe, though he knew how much the Duke of Anjou hated him, yet he failed not to make him certain advantagious Propoſitions, to ſet him at an abſolute Enmity with his Brother the King, well underſtanding how greatly it would ſerve him, to have a Son of France at the Head of his Party; but as that Deſign took no Effect, ſo if it had it would have done him little good, in regard of the Death of the Duke, which happened ſuddenly after.

Which, ſeeing they could not prevail in their Deſign, the Guiſes were glad of; for that his Life gave a ſtop to their Ambition, and kept the King of Navarre aſleep; however it changed the Meaſures and Deſigns of thoſe Factions. For now the Succeſſion to the Crown ſeemed to lye open, ſince all Men knew the King incapable of having Children, by reaſon of the Debility of his Parts of Generation, proceeding from the ſame Diſtemper which had cauſed his Hair to fall off. The Queen was for advancing to the Crown the Children of her Daughter, and the Duke of Lorrain.

The Duke of Guiſe pretended to ſerve her, but loving himſelf better than the Elder Line of his Family, he minded his own buſineſs. However not having any right of himſelf to intermeddle in the Affairs of the Kingdom, he made uſe of the Cardinal of Bourbon. Him he therefore perſuaded, That he was the Preſumptive Heir of the Kingdom, as being nearer in Blood than the King of Navarre his Nephew: So that the good old Man hated his Nephew as his Rival, and look'd upon the Duke of Guiſe as the Potent Friend that was to help him to his Right, when the time ſhould come.

The King was advertis'd of all theſe Practices by the King of Navarre: So that the more the others had a mind to keep him at a diſtance, the more the King deſired to have him near his Preſence. Thereupon he ſent the Duke of Eſpernon to him, to perſuade him to turn Catholick; but his own Miniſters of State, and the Proteſtants, ſhew'd him better Arguments to the contrary, and kept him ſteady.

Thereupon the Leaguers gave out, That Eſpernon was ſent not to convert the King of Navarre, but to confirm him in his Hereſie; and that the King himſelf was opening him a way to the Oppreſſion of the Catholick Princes, that when he came to the Crown he might make an abſolute Change of the ancient Religion.

This the Duke of Guiſe, and his Brother, by their Emiſſaries, ſpread among the People, and the Preachers Trumpeted the ſame from their Pulpits. To this they added the Protection which the King gave to Geneva, and the Receipt of the Order of the Garter from Queen Elizabeth. And they having blaſted the Kings Honour by all the Inventions they could deviſe, they extoll'd the Piety, Vallor, and Goodneſs of the Guiſes, whom they called the Bucklers of Religion, and the Fathers of the People.

Having thus fir'd the Zealous, ſtirred up the Factious, and perſwaded the ſimple, they began to Liſt Souldiers, keep their Publick Meetings, name Commanders, appoint places of Rendezvous, and to give form and ſhape to their late contriv'd League, in which the Duke of Nevers was a Chief Actor.

And now the Leaguers being ready to declare there wanted nothing but a Confirmation of their Rebellion from the Pope, with the Draught and Memorials of which Father Claude Matthieu, a Jeſuite, was ſent to Rome. Cardinal Pelve preſented them to the Holy Father, and the Spaniſh Cardinals held them Midwiſe-like in their Arms. The Holy Father did not abſolutely deny his Aſſent, but whether he was unwilling to Alarum the Proteſtant Princes, at a time when the King of France had entred into League with them, or for what other cauſe is uncertain; however he would not Confirm it by any Publick Act, thinking it ſufficient to keep the Leaguers in hopes, and to give them the ſatisfaction of a Connivance at preſent.

Beſides the pretence of Religion, the extraordinary Oppreſſion of Impoſitions and Taxes favoured them extreamly.

On the other ſide, the King, underſtanding that the Guiſes had gained the favour of the People by their Civilities, made it his buſineſs for ſome Months to appear Popular; he ſhewed himſelf in Publick with a Smiling and Gracious Aſpect. Careſſed the Deputies of the Cities, and the Principal Burgeſſes of Paris, and went frequently to the Pariſh Maſſes. But this gay humour laſted not long, and then he ſhut himſelf up in his Retirements as he was wont to do before.

In the mean time the Duke of Eſpernon, with ſome of the Council, had made a Party, with a reſolution to Arreſt the Duke of Guiſe; of which he having Intelligence, retired to his Government of Champaigne, whither the Cardinal his Brother ſoon after followed him.

The Spaniſh Agents took advantage of this Conjuncture, and never ceas'd till they had concluded a Private League Offenſive and Defenſive with the Confederates of the Holy Union, to preſerve the Catholick Religion, as well in France as in the Low Countries. To advance the Cardinal of Burbon to the Throne upon the Death of Henry III, and to exclude all the Heretick Princes of the Line. To which purpoſe the Spaniards were to furniſh the French Princes with 50000 Piſtolets a Month, and advance them 400000 from ſix Months to ſix Months.

Beſides which Sums the Spaniſh Agents paid to the Duke of Guiſe ſeveral other Sums, which he was to Employ for the gaining of ſuch perſons as he ſtood in need of. Which done, the Spaniards preſſed the Duke of Guiſe, without ceaſing, to declare himſelf: Who thereupon, having ſecur'd the Cardinal of Burbon, who was the choiceſt Card in his Pack, he Publiſhed a Declaration in the Cardinals Name, and ſo the ſport began.

The Kings Council were divided; Eſpernon and his Party were fot ſetting upon the Leaguers without delay, and giving no Quarter; thoſe that either feared the Duke of Guiſe, or hated Eſpernon, were for temporiſing. The King enclin'd at firſt to Eſpernon's Advice, but his old Melancholy ſeizing him, he relented of a ſudden, and fell as it were aſleep; only he ſends to the Duke of Guiſe to offer a Treaty, on Condition he would Disband his Forces. The Duke delays till he had got his Troops together; but then poſitively declares that he would not lay down Arms till the Publick demands were ſatisfied.

In the mean time the King of Navarre Publiſhes his Manifeſtoes, to aſſert the Juſtice of his Cauſe, defies the Duke of Guiſe, and challenges him to fight hand to hand for the determination of the matter. But Guiſe was too cunning to hazard a general Cauſe upon a particular Combat.

The Sword being thus unſheathed, the Leaguers had much the worſt of it at firſt; through the Valour of Mompenſier, Joyeuſe, and Eſpernon, inſomuch that the Duke of Guiſe ſent his Requeſt to the King, demanding only an Edict againſt the Hugonots. But, as if the refuſal or delay of it at leaſt had added new life to the Catholick Cauſe, he takes the Field again with freſh Vigour.

Upon this, the King, who thought the Storm had been over, from a profound Security, falls into a deep Conſternation, and deſires the Queen Mother to make Peace at any rate; to which purpoſe a Conference was appointed between her and the Duke of Guiſe; the Iſſue of which was, That the King accorded to the Chiefs of the League not onely the Edict demanded againſt the Religionaries, but the Command of the Armies for the Execution of it; puts ſeveral Cities and Fortreſſes into their Hands, grants them the Liberty of Guards ſeverally for the Security of their Perſons, and 600000 Crowns to reimburſe their German Levies.

The Publication of this Accord cauſes the King of Navarre and the Prince of Conde to look about 'em, and to enter into a new League with the Marſhal de Montmorency, and to ſend into Germany for new Levies of Men.

The King fearing to be cruſh'd between theſe two Parties, who were going Tooth and Nail together by the Ears, ſends for the King of Navarre to aſſiſt him at Court. But he and the Prince of Conde had enough to do to keep their own, and to make Head againſt two Armies, which the King had put into the Hands of the Duke of Guiſe and the Duke of Mayenne, for the Deſtruction of the Hereticks, and Execution of the Edict, though to his other Governours he had given under-hand Orders to proceed remiſly enough, as to that Affair, in their ſeveral Governments, and, by joyning with the two Dukes, to obſtruct their Proceedings as much as might be.

The Guiſes therefore obſerving, that the ſole aim of the King was to ruine them, and ſupport the Hereticks in oppoſition to their Deſigns, did by their Emiſſaries, Preachers, and Conſeſſors cry him down as a Favourer of Hereticks, and that he held a Correſpondence with the King of Navarre, for the Deſtruction of the good Catholicks; which they might the better do, for that the King had ſent the Queen-Mother to treat with the King of Navarre but a little before.

Upon this Eſpernon, now mounted to the higheſt Degree of his Favour, from whence Joyeuſe was beginning to totter, fail'd not without ceaſing to ſpur the King on to the utter Extirpation of the Guiſes, as they in revenge had vow'd his, and for that purpoſe had laid many Trains to compaſs their Deſigns. Eſpernon was ſo ſucceſsful in his management, as to overperſwade the King that all the Deſigns of the Guiſes were againſt his Sacred Perſon; and by that means wrought him to have always about his Perſon, that famous band of Forty Five, of which the Duke of Eſpernon made choice himſelf; being all Gaſcoyners which the eager deſire of raiſing their Fortunes prompted to any undertaking, and of which Lognac was Captain.

In the heat of this War the German Proteſtants, having met at Lunenburgh, order the Levying of a Noble Army for the Aſſiſtance of the French Hugonots, which though it entred France, with the greateſt Conſternation imaginable to the King himſelf, and made great ſpoile where they came, yet was ſo well waited upon by the Duke of Guiſe, and being under the Conduct of ſeveral Commanders Mutinous and Quarrelſom, was ſo unweildy to it ſelf, that it mouldered away to nothing without the leaſt conſiderable Action done; which would have been a greater diſmaying to the Hugonots, had not the King of Navarre reviv'd their Spirits by gaining the famous Battel of Coutras, where Joyeuſe loſt his life with the loſs of his whole Army, one of the moſt numerous under the Command of the League.

On the other ſide, the Defeat of the Germans without fighting their main Body redounded ſo much to the Honour of the Duke of Guiſe, that over all Chriſtendom all the Catholicks loudly ſang his Triumphs. The Pope ſent him a Sword, engraven with Flames, as a mark of his Zeal and Vallor; and the Duke of Parma a pair of Rich Suits of Armour, with this Elogie, That it appertained to none but Henry of Loraine to bear the Title of Chief in War. All Paris was filled with the Fame of his Victory over the Germans, nor did the Pulpits ring with any other noiſe. But among all theſe Popular Applauſes, he was touch'd to the Quick to ſee the King ſeek all occaſions to depreſs him, and raiſe his Enemie Eſpernon to the higheſt Degree of his Favour.

More eſpecially when he ſaw the Government of Normandy, and the Admiraltie of France, both Vacant by the death of Joyeuſe, both beſtowed upon Eſpernon, when he had ſo earneſtly begged the latter for his Friend Marſhal Briſſac. Tho there is no Queſtion but he was more enraged at the Favours done his Enemie, than at the Kings denial of his own requeſt.

Therefore at an Aſſembly of the Princes of this Family, and the Chiefs of the League, which he had ſummoned to meet at Nancy, he procured a Determination, That a Requeſt in Writing ſhould be made to the King, to joyn more ſolemnly and openly in the Holy League, to remove from his Perſon, and from the Publick Governments and Employments, all Enemies to the Publick, and Favourers of Hereſie, which they ſhould name; to publiſh the Council of Trent; to eſtabliſh the Holy Inquiſition: with other Demands of the ſame ſevere nature.

And this they were the more encouraged to purſue, in regard that, in the firſt place, Eſpernon, by a needleſs Quarrel, had ſo provok'd Pierre d'Eſpinac Archbiſhop of Lyon and Villeroy, Secretary of State, that of two moſt conſiderable Servants, they became irreconcileable Enemies to the King: and, in the next place, for that the League was at this time not ſo much fortified, as the Hugonots were weakned by the Death of the Prince of Conde, who died at his own Houſe, poyſoned by his own Domeſticks; in whom it was hard to ſay, whether Valour, Liberality, Generoſity, Love of Juſtice, or Affability, were moſt Eminent.

It was now about a year and a half ſince the King had reſolved to bring to ſome exemplary Puniſhment the Chiefs of the League in Paris, as being ſuch that had rais'd Seditions, and attempted ſtrange Enterpriſes againſt his Perſon. They were called the SIXTEEN, becauſe they had the Government and Management of all that Party, through all the Sixteen Quarters of the City; and the Duke of Guiſe had left in the City beſides Forty other Gentlemen, from whom they were to receive Orders from time to time, and who were alſo to be as their Guard; to which purpoſe there was a private Proviſion of Arms and Money upon Occaſion.

Theſe People, acquainted with the King's Deſign, ſend away to the Duke of Guiſe to make haſte to their Succour. Thereupon he departs from Soiſſons, with onely Seven Gentlemen in his Company, and coming to Paris the Ninth of May, 1588. about Noon, alights at the Cloyſter of the Penitent Virgins, where the Queen-Mother was, who immediately carried him through the Throng and Acclamations of the People, who follow'd him as their Protector, to the Louvre. The King advertis'd of his coming, debated then about his Death, and reſolv'd upon it; but whether he had not leiſure to give Directions, or whether the Countenance of a Perſon ſo formidable, and one who always carried one Hand upon the Hilt of his Sword, deterr'd him, there was no Attempt at that time made; ſo that this Viſit was onely ſpent in Accuſations and Reproaches on the King's ſide, and in Juſtifications and humble Submiſſions on the Duke's part.

Paris was full of new Faces; in the Streets heaps of People vehement in diſcourſe, and the Houſes buzzing with confus'd Murmurs, that ſignified a Tempeſt at hand. The Duke was not ignorant that they were trafficking for his Head; and the King was made believe that the League intended him no more harm than to make him a Monk; to which purpoſe the Dutcheſs of Montpenſier pretended to ſhew the very Sciſſars that were provided to clip his Hair.

The next day the King commanded all Strangers to depart out of Paris, and Ordered the Houſes to be ſearch'd: which becauſe the Pariſians oppos'd, he powered between five and ſix thouſand Souldiers by Night into the City.

The Burgeſſes would have been glad that the King ſhould have been Maſter of their Walls, but they did not like it, that for the ſeiſing of fifteen or twenty Malefactors, their Houſes ſhould be in danger of Plundering, or themſelves be looked upon as Rebels, which made them deſert their Stations where they were ſet to Guard; and as for the Common Souldiers; they were driven from their Poſts by the Leaguers, who were prepared for the Purpoſe; for it was now become a Street Engagement, fought out with the loſs of about fourſcore Swiſſes puſhing on the Barricadoes from Street to Street, to the very Gates of the Louvre.

Nevertheleſs the King and the Duke as yet diſſembled their Play, in the midſt of a Game ſo eaſie to be diſcovered, and only felt one anothers Pulſes, by Meſſengers that carried and recarried Propoſitions to and fro.

But the next day, the Duke was not a little aſtoniſh'd to underſtand, that while the Queen-Mother was feeding him with vain hopes, the King, either by her advice, or Counſelled by his own fears, had made his eſcape from Paris, and was retir'd to Chartres; while the Queen Mother ſtaid at Paris, not to pacify Affairs, but to keep them in ſuch a Fermentation, as ſhould have ſtill need of her intermediation.

From Chartres the King ſends to the Cities and Governours; from Paris, the Duke writes to his Friends and Aſſociates; but both in a different Stile. The King's Faint and Timerous; the Duke's Victorious and Triumphant, extolling the Day of the Barricades, as the Effect of Heavens reſplendent Protection, and conjuring the other Cities to follow the Example of Paris their Metropolis.

Of which, to make the more ſure, the Duke diſplaces the old Provoſt of Merchants, and the Sheriffs, takes Poſſeſſion of the Baſtille and Arſenall, ſeizes upon all the Cities of Picardy, except Boulogne, which would not admit him, as the Cardinal of Guiſe did upon Rheimes and Chaalons in Champaigne, and by his other Friends, had made himſelf Maſter of the greateſt part of Normandy, had not the Duke of Eſpernon prevented him.

All this while the Queen-Mother ceaſed not to treat with the Duke of Guiſe, making uſe of the Dutcheſs of Montpenſier, whom ſhe put in hopes of Marrying the old Cardinal of Bourbon; and both together perſwaded the Duke a reconciliation with the King.

To which purpoſe they alſo oblig'd the Sixteen, after ſeveral Proceſſions made to appeaſe the Wrath of God, to go in the Habit of Penitents to Chartres, and there implore the King's Pardon.

Some days after the Parliament ſent their Deputies to teſtify to the King, their Grief for his departure from the Louvre, and to ſupplicate him to return, and to divert his juſt Indignation from the reſt of his Subjects.

To the firſt he anſwered, That if it were in his Thoughts to ruin the Pariſians, it was in his Power to reduce the City to Aſhes. To the latter, That he would uſe the Citizens of Paris, as Children that had offended a Father, and not as Slaves.

After Dinner he ſent for the Parliaments Commiſſioners, and charged them to tell the Pariſians, that he would remove their Soveraign Courts, if they perſiſted in their Factious Humour; and three days after ſent to the Parliament to let them know, that he intended an Aſſembly of the General Eſtates, at the end of the year, to reform the abuſes of the Realm, and ſecure them a Catholick Succeſſour.

The Duke of Guiſe took his advantage of this Meſſage, and cauſed a Requeſt to be forthwith preſented to him in the name of the Princes, the Citizens of Paris, and all the good Catholicks, to ſend the Duke of Mayenne with an Army into the Dauphinate, to March himſelf with another into Guien, to forgive what was paſt, to confirm the alterations of the City Magiſtrates, and to remove Eſpernon and his Brother la Valette from his Perſon.

The Enemies of Eſpernon, eſpecially Villeroy, took hold of this occaſion to ruin him; the Queen-Mother ſet her helping Hend, and both together ſo entirely vanquiſh'd the Kings Reſolution, that the king ſent to him to forbear coming to Court; and at length commanded him to his Government of Angouleſme. Upon his departure the King ſeemed more inclinable to an Accommodation, whereupon an agreement was patch'd up very advantagious to the Princes of the League, who had now an extraordinary Power in their Hands, and the Magiſtrates of Paris at their Devotion.

In Confirmation of which, the King, renewing his Coronation Oath, ſwore to extirpate all Schiſms and Hereſies, and never to make any more Edicts in Favour of the Hugonots; and Commanded all his Subjects to ſwear the ſame, upon pain of High Treaſon.

This done, the Queen carries the Duke of Guiſe to kiſs the Kings Hands at Chartres. Where nothing appear'd either in Diſcourſes or Carriage of one or the other; but all the marks of Confidence, and Cordial Affection imaginable; ſo that all the Court was overjoy'd to behold ſuch a perfect Reconciliation.

But after all the publick Ceremonies of Re-union and Reconciliation, the Council of the Arch-Biſhop of Lyon was the Dukes Deſtruction, in adviſing him to keep firm, and not to ſtir, as he had thought to have done, from Court: For the Luſtre of the Dukes Popularity, made too great a dazle in the Kings ſight. He was alſo offended that the Pope, in a certain Letter, had called the Duke, and the Cardinal of Bourbon, the two Macchabees that had ſaved the People of Iſrael. Nor were the Duke of Nevers and L • gnac wanting inceſſantly to provoke his Indignation; the firſt becauſe he mortally hated the Duke of Guiſe; the latter, becauſe he hoped to ſucceed the Duke of Eſpernon in the Kings Favour, and knew that the Guiſes were profeſſed Enemies of Favourites. Other unhappy Accidents there were, that ſtill concurred to put the King out of Humour.

At the opening of the Aſſembly of Eſtates, he ſurmiſed that there was a Party made to clip his Prerogative, and advance the Authority of the States to their former degree of Light; which the King, in his Speech, attributed to the Duke of Guiſe, of which the Duke made ſuch vehement Complaints by the Mouth of the Archbiſhop of Lyon, that when the Speech came to be Printed, he was forc'd to blot out and change many Paſſages, which were however nevertheleſs deeply Engrav'd in his Mind.

He was Exaſperated that the Duke had conſtrained him to Swear to the performance of the Edict. That the League had compelled the Count of Soiſons, after he had quitted the King of Navarre's Partie, to take Abſolution from the Pope, and yet had wrought with the Holy Father to deny it him.

He was ſtill more highly offended that the States made continual Complaints againſt his Government, and demanded abatement of Taxes, the Puniſhment of Favourites, and made it their buſineſs to bound abſolute Dominion, and to re-eſtabliſh the Power of the Law. All which things made him look upon the Duke of Guiſe as a dangerous Rival; whoſe Actions tended all to the ruin of his Authority.

Another Incentive was this, tho not ſo much taken notice of in the World. The King well knew that Mary Queen of Scots was the reputed Heireſs to Queen Elizabeth, and younger than ſhe was, and therefore it was not only probable, but a thing very likely that ſhe might inherit the Crown of England, which made him deſperately afraid, if ſuch a thing ſhould happen, leſt the Guiſes being ſtrengthened by ſuch a powerful Niece, over whom they had an abſolute Command, ſhould make uſe of her Aſſiſtance to aid that Potent Faction which they had in France already, and ſo accompliſh their Work to his utter Ruine. And therefore, tho he ſent Bellievre pretendedly to Intercede for Queen Mary's life, yet his private Inſtructions were to preſs Queen Elizabeth to put her to Death, as the Common Enemie both of their Perſons and their Kingdoms.

All which Conſiderations crowding with the ſeveral Diſtempers of Body daily increaſing upon the King, which he believed to ſpring from thoſe Vexations of Mind of which the Duke of Guiſe had been all along the occaſion, ſo that at laſt (tho in the feebleneſs of his irreſolution he had confirmed his friendſhip with the Duke by Solemn Oath upon the Sacred Altars▪ where they had taken the Sacrament together) immediately after the remembrance of what was paſt, the fear of what was to come, and the continual reports and inſinuations of the Forty Five, ſometimes true, ſometimes feign'd, rekindled his Indignation and confirmed his Reſolution. Thoſe of his Counſel and Servants the moſt Generous, and among the reſt Marſhal d'Aumont were of opinion, that he ſhould bring the Duke to the Bar of Juſtice, and cut off his Head Publickly. Grillon Maſter of the Camp of the Regiment of Guards, refuſed to Aſſaſſinate him, but offered to Fight him, aſſuring the King that he would kill him upon peril of his life.

But the latter Advice beſt pleaſed the King's humour, at that time troubled with the Fumes of the Spleen, which rendred him extreamly ſevere and ſowre.

The King having reſolv'd upon the Fact, calls for Alfonſus Ornane, Entragues, Bonivet, Montigny and others of the Forty Five, and cauſes them to be brought to him by a Back Door, into the Room where he was; whither being come, This day, ſaid he, either I or Guiſe muſt die; which you think beſt for you, or moſt profitable for the Kingdom is in your Breaſts to Judge. That he is the Author of all the troubles that have tormented the Kingdom you know, and no Man is ignorant. That which was thought would have prov'd the End of his Wickedneſs was but a ſtep to it. Even againſt my life, which formerly he only aim'd at covertly, through the Misfortunes of others, now openly and with an unfolded breaſt he levels miſchief; yea he threatens yours, and the Ruine of all the Gallic Honour. Nor is there long time to deliberate; I am here kept up as you ſee within the Narrow Walls of this Chamber. To free my ſelf and the Common-Wealth, which is in equal danger with me, from a Siege ſo full of miſerie, requires a Vigorous Sallie; nor is there any poſſibility of my eſcape but by your Vallor: That, you know, I have long ſince ſet apart and ſelected as the Guard of my ſafety upon all ſudden and unexpected occaſions, with this Confidence that your Courage would never at any time forſake me. Should I have call'd you to a Private Revenge, I am aſſured you would none of you be wanting, now in my extream diſtreſs I challenge your fidelity. To watch in the Trenches, to keep firm Station, and venture on the Canons Mouth, are the daily Tryal of Gallican Virtue, wherein no Man ſuffers himſelf to be outdone. Now I require the Tryal not of your Valour, but of your Loyaltie and Faith; while the conteſt is not about the Limits of your Country, but the life of your Prince; whoſe ſafety is this day to be reſcu'd from the Plague of Guiſe and his followers. I might add, that you are deſtin'd to the ſame Slaughter with my ſelf, did I not believe your love toward me, and your affection to your Country, a more noble incitement to your Courage, than either your hatred of them, or the fear of your own danger. This ſaid, when he obſerved the Spirits of the young Men, already Examined apart, vigorouſly enflamed to dare and perpetrate, after he had extolled their Fidelity and Conſtancy, he gave to each a long Dagger, made as it was thought for the ſame purpoſe: And theſe, ſaid he, are the Aſſertors of yours and my Liberty, and conſequently of the Gallican Renown, which the Spaniards, by means of thoſe Religious Confederate under the Command of Guiſe, would trample under Foot, which I the lawful King of France give you full Power and Commiſſion to make uſe of for the Publick ſafety, againſt Traytors and Rebels, without hazard of your Conſciences.

Having thus ſaid, he planted them all, to the number of Nine, in a narrow Nook upon the left hand of the Paſſage leading into his inmoſt Cabinet, (the reſt of the Forty five being hid in little Cells which he had built up againſt the Sides of his Chamber.) Before Day-break the Members of the Sacred Conſiſtory met; among the reſt, the Cardinals Bourbon and Gondy, Marſhal d▪Aumont, Albert Gondy, the Duke of Rais, Rambuliet, Francis d'O. After them, Lewis Cardinal of Guiſe, Peter Eſpinac Archbiſhop of Lion; and laſt of all appear'd the Duke of Guiſe himſelf, who having been indulging himſelf that night in the ſtoln Embraces of a Lady belonging to the Chamber of the Maids of Honour, whom he paſſionately lov'd, came later than the reſt.

The Report went, That he was ſome days before admoniſh'd by his Friends to beware of the King's abundant Patience, for that his over-great Kindneſs was much to be ſuſpected, and how far it might tend, the wiſer ſort were fearful: That he look'd with an ill Eye upon the Guiſian Splendour, as was apparent by certain Evidences; and therefore, that what he deſpaired to do by open Force, he would accompliſh by Treachery. To which the Duke ſtill returned the ſame Anſwers which he had done to Gaſper Schombergh before: for Schombergh Count of Nantoile, tho infinitely Loyal to the King, and a great Lover of his Country, yet out of the Reſpect which he bare the Duke of Guiſe, had often admoniſh'd him to obſerve Moderation, and not to provoke the King's Patience too far; That his Power reſted onely upon the Favour of the inconſtant Rabble; and that he ſhould make a modeſt uſe of his Fortune, with regard to himſelf, and thoſe that depended upon him: For what would become of his Wife, and Children of tender Age, if he, plung'd in Debt, ſhould be ſwallow'd up by the Fury of Popular Seditions? Tho he valued not his own Life, yet that Charity to his Wife and Children ſhould oblige him to fear the King's Revenge. To which the Duke; To me, ſaid he, who from my Childhood have been always bred up in War, Death has frequently appear'd, but never terrified me: for this is that we are born to, to ſeek Honour with the hazard of our Lives. The Miſfortunes of thoſe that belong'd neareſt to me, I never valued; and yet methinks at this preſent I ſet a higher value on them; ſo much the more, ſince I find that the exaſperated King, if any thing unhappily take me from the World, will impotently wreck that Hatred which he cannot ſatisfie upon my Perſon, on my Wife and Children. Yet when I remember, that I my ſelf, far younger at that time than any which I now enjoy, was with the reſt of my Brothers left by my Father, perfidiouſly ſlain by the Sectaries; and yet that I ſprung up in the midſt of my Adverſaries, recover'd the Reliques of my Father's Fortune, and afterwards reveng'd his Death, I think it enough to recommend them, young as they are, to the Protection of that God who preſerv'd my Life: For I begat them not to diſcompoſe the Methods of my Reſolutions. If, before they grow to mature Years, the Fate of War ſnatch me away, they will be the Architects of their own Fortune, as I was of mine, and ſhew themſelves worthy of their Anceſtors. As for the Danger which you threaten from the King, leſt his injur'd Patience ſhould turn at length to Fury, I judge him to underſtand ſo well his own and my Concerns, that he will be careful of precipitating his own and the Kingdoms Safety into manifeſt Danger, while he indulges his own private Revenge, for trivial Cauſes and ſlight Reports. Nor am I ignorant how nearly my Cauſe, which is the Cauſe of Religion, is eſpouſed by all the Cities of the Provinces, and the Eſtates of the Kingdom; ſo that he can determine nothing againſt me, but that they will not onely revolt from him, but riſe up as one Man againſt him. And that is a Comfort to me, now fix'd in my purpoſe, that I foreſee there will not thoſe be wanting that ſhall revenge my Death, if it prove violent; and that the King himſelf, if he deſign any thing of Cruelty againſt me, ſhall end his days more miſerably than any of his Predeceſſors. Theſe were the Duke's Words to Schombergh.

Another time, being at a certain Entertainment with his Brother the Cardinal, and the Archbiſhop of Lion, he was there prudently forewarn'd by Stephen Nouel, and his Son-in-Law Martel Capel, to beware of the King's Ambuſcado's, and to conſult the Preſervation of his Life, by ſpeedily withdrawing from the Court: With whom the Cardinal joyn'd in ſerious Advice to the ſame purpoſe. Nevertheleſs he ſtill perſever'd in his former obſtinacy, telling them, That as frequently in Combate, ſo in this Affair, he had ſo far engag'd himſelf, that he could not honourably retreat: That his Fortune, interwoven with the King's, was like that of Armies rang'd for Loſs or Victory, who no ſooner come in view of each other, but there is a neceſſity preſently to engage, or elſe of keeping their Ground; otherwiſe the retiring of the one, ſurrenders the Conqueſt to the other: That he ſcorn'd, by his Departure, reſembling Flight, to yield a Victory which he held certain, to a timorous Enemy, nor do an Action which ſhould render him more ſollicitous for his Life, than his Honour, and the Safety of his Friends. For what would his Detractors ſay, or rather not ſay, ſhould be at ſuch a Conjuncture, depart from the Aſſembly of Eſtates? No queſtion the ſeveral Cities of the Provinces would look upon it as the Confeſſion of a Crime, and fall from thoſe generous Reſolutions to which ſuch auſpicious Omens had given a Being: That the Dye was caſt, and that he would rather with the hazard of his Life await the Iſſue, than be wanting to the Expectation of his Friends, and his own Fortune, by embracing ſafer Counſels.

When, notwithſtanding all this, Nouel inſiſted, and with a ſhowr of Tears beſought him to abandon his raſh Reſolves of ſtaying; turning to the Cardinal his Brother, and the Arch-biſhop of Lyon, he ſternly declared his Mind, which was, not to take notice of fond Advice, that proceeded from the Infirmities of Old Age, or the Maudlin Kindneſſes of more than uſual Compotation. Which Words when the fierce and haughty Old Man heard, Theſe Tears of mine, ſaid he, are ſeaſonable, had Fortune, to whom you are much in debt, granted ye this one Favour more, to underſtand aright the Admonitions of your Friends. Which ſince you now deride, there nothing elſe remains, but ſincerely to implore Heavens Mercy to avert the Danger, and that the Almighty would be pleas'd in a ſhort time to make us ſenſible, that it was an Apprehenſion onely of Danger that made us weep for fear.

The Report is, That the Duke was confirmed in this obſtinate Reſolution, contrary to the Advice of all his Friends, by the Archbiſhop of Lyons; for that he, being in hopes, through the Recommendation of the Duke, to be advanced the next Lent to the Cardinal-Dignity, was afraid leſt, if the Duke ſhould withdraw from Court, the King by his Embaſſadour might diſturb his Deſign, ſo likely and in ſuch a fair way to ſucceed; and for that Reaſon preferr'd his own Ambition before the Danger of his Friend. So that the next day, when ſome Perſon unknown had thruſt into his Napkin, which he was to make uſe of at Dinner, a certain Billet, giving him to underſtand, That the King had laid a Train for him; as ſoon as he found the Billet, by unfolding the Napkin, he preſently took a Pen and writ theſe Words, He dares not; and then threw the Billet under the Table, that ſo it might return to the Hands of him that wrote it.

This was not all: The very Morning that he went to the Aſſembly, one of his Guard that attended him, either underſtanding or conjecturing ſomething of the Plot which was contriv'd againſt him, when he could not come to ſpeak with the Duke, preſs'd in among the Croud, and got ſo near him as to tread upon his Foot, by way of Item and dutiful Caution: which he either not underſtanding, or not regarding, bid the Perſon not trouble him. But when he was once ſeated in the Aſſembly, then he began to dread the Aſpect of that Danger which before he ſo contemn'd; and calling to mind the Admonitions of his Friends, was ſenſible too late, that now he was alone, deſtitute of all his faithful Aſſiſtants, in the King's Power, ſurrounded with all his Guards. However, acknowledging his Errour only to himſelf, he reſolved to cover his Fears with the conſtancy of his Countenance, eſpecially before his Brother Cardinal, whoſe prudent Monitories he had hitherto deſpis'd▪ Nevertheleſs a vehement Conſternation prevailing over his diſſembled Courage, notwithſtanding he ſate with his back to the Chimney, a ſudden chillneſs ſeiz'd his Limbs, attended with a violent flux of Blood from his Noſe, which cauſed him to call for ſome Sweet-meats to recruit his Spirits. However, ſome there were that attributed this Accident not ſo much to Fear, as the expence of Natural Strength, occaſioned by his Nocturnal pleaſures already mentioned.

While the Duke was ſitting in this condition, between fear and faintneſs, comes Lewis Revol, the Kings Secretary, ignorant of the Tragedy, to give him notice that the King had ſent to ſpeak with him, and that he muſt come to him. Thereupon the Duke riſes forthwith, and with a ſerious Countenance goes directly to the Kings Bed-Chamber, into which being preſently admitted, and the Bar, as it is uſual, let down, he proceeds forward to the Kings private Cabinet on the left-hand. There, as he was putting the Hanging aſide with his Hand, and going to enter, Sanmalin, one of the Fatal Tragedians ſtops him, and laying hold of the Duke's Sword, with his left Hand, with the other gives him a ſlanting Stab from the Throat down into the Breaſt, which preſently filling his Mouth with a ſtream of Blood, deprived him of his Speech, ſo that he could only fetch a deep Sigh, which was heard by the Standers by with no ſmall Horrour. Preſently the reſt ſurround him, and as he was vainly ſtruggling in his own Defence, ſome lay hold of his Hands, others having given him ſeveral Wounds in the Head and Hips, after they had ſo diſabled his Strength, direct at laſt their deadly ſtroaks into his Breaſt and Belly. Finding himſelf loſt, all he ſaid was only this, Oh my God, I am a dead Man, have pity on me, all this befalls me for my Sins.

Yet notwithſtanding he had received many mortal Wounds, he did not preſently fall, but being got looſe from his Murderers, turning his Face, he went ſtill upright to the other oppoſite Chamber upon the right hand, with his arms extended, and his Fiſts clench'd, ſeeming to direct his ſteps againſt Lognac, who was with Bellegard in the ſaid Chamber. Lognac, ſeeing him coming, only held out his Sword in the Scabbard, which the Duke no ſooner run againſt, but he fell with his whole Body upon the Carpet, and without any Convulſion breath'd his laſt Gaſp. Where he lay expoſed for ſome time to the Mockery of the Courtiers, who call'd him the Brave King of Paris; Which Name the King gave him. Who being in his Cabinet, and being told the buſineſs was done, came forth, and gave the dead Duke a ſpurn in the Face with his Foot, as the Duke had done before to the dead Body of the Admiral Chaſtillon. The King, having viewed him a while, cry'd out, Good God, how great he looks! greater than when alive.

In the mean while the Cardinal of Guiſe hearing the Hurlyburly, and conjecturing the truth, roſe from his Chair in ſo much haſte, that he over turn'd it, and without any thoughts of aſſiſting his Brother, made to the Door of the Council-Chamber, thinking to eſcape. But the Arch-biſhop of Lyon ran to the inner door of the Kings Bed-chamber, as one that intended to aſſiſt the Duke, or was elſe reſolv'd to dye with him, as being the perſon who had been the pernicious occaſion of his ſtay at Court. But they were both ſtopt, both Arreſted, and carried up into a Chamber next the Tiles, where they were kept all that Day, and the next Night, which caus'd them to ſpend their time in Prayers, and mutual Exhortations, not without ſome menacing words uttered by the Cardinal, which being convey'd to the Kings Ears by the Guards, haſtened his ruine.

Then the King caus'd his Bed Chamber to be unlock'd, and admitted the Lords: Among which, turning to the Cardinal Vendoſme, Now, ſaid he, I am King, and 〈◊〉 reſolv'd to proſecute the War againſt the Sectaries more eagerly than e • er, th • Proſecution of which, th • ſe turbulent F • ries, w • o ha • al • ays th • cauſe of Religion in the • r M • uths, h •• e hith 〈…〉 the mean while, let thoſe wh • da •• preſume to 〈…〉 , or weaken my Authority, learn by •• is Example, wh •• they are to expect from my juſt Indignation. And ſo ſaying 〈…〉 to give the Queen-Mother an accompt of the Fact. Who not ſo much aſtoniſh'd at the hainouſneſs of the deed, as that it was done ſo contrary to all probability, with a compos'd Countenance ask'd the King, whether he foreſaw what Commotions would follow, and whether he had provided againſt what might happen? To whom, when the King anſwered, He had taken care for all things, She added no more, but only prayed to God, that all things might turn to the beſt.

There was Eminent in this Duke a wonderful Affability, joyn'd with Gravity, which allur'd the good will of all Men, an Eloquence more perſwaſive in private Counſel, than in publick Harangues, a profuſe Liberality, and an apparent Civility to the meaneſt. His Perſon tall, his Countenance comely, his becoming Gate and Geſture Majeſtick, added not a little to the endowments of his Mind; and plainly ſhewed the greatneſs of his Thoughts, and the exalted accompliſhments of his Soul. He patiently endured Heat or Cold, Thirſt or Hunger; and though bred in the midſt of Court Delecacy, when he was in the Field, thought nothing too mean, or homely, no more than the meaneſt Souldier: He was ſparing of Sleep, Indefatigable, ſo ready in buſineſs and diſpatch, that he ſeemed to play in the midſt of ſerious Affairs, and to be idle in diſpatches of higheſt Importance. But theſe too many rare endowments of Nature, were ſully'd with an Exorbitant Ambition, which allowed no Bound to his Thoughts, nor limit to his Deſigns. For carrying on of which, he had a crafty, reaching, and intreagueing Wit, and being an Artiſt at Diſſembling and Deceiving, would uphold one untruth by telling another; ſo that when he intended to deceive moſt, he always found out new Methods and Means to deceive and execute the Deceit, ſtill laying the blame on others: Which being obſerved by his Intimate Friends, rendered them his Enemies by degrees, ſo that many for that reaſon forſook him, not finding that Faith and Cindour in his Deeds, which he pretended to in Words.

The Duke of Mayenne was not inferiour to him either in Fame or Vertue, if he did not far exceed him in the latter. Guiſe depended more upon his Fortune, Mayenne upon his Prudence. The Duke of Guiſe cared not how far he ran in Debt, ſo he had wherewithal to ſupply his Expences. Mayenne ordered his Expences always according to his Income. The Elder profuſe in his Promiſes, but ſparing in his Performances. The Younger ſparing of his Promiſes, but what he promis'd he inviolably perform'd.

The Duke of Guiſe being therefore remov'd out of the World, the King did not think his Work effected, unleſs he could get Mayenne into his Clutches. And therefore ſent away Ornan preſently to Apprehend him. But he having timely notice, ſeaſonably withdrew himſelf.

The next thing was what to do with the Cardinal. They who had adviſed the Murther of the Duke, made no Queſtion but the King might take the ſame courſe with the Cardinal, and were therefore the more urgent, becauſe he well underſtood the Kings diſpoſition, and were afraid leaſt the King ſhould be overcome with compaſſion. Thereupon they thus Diſcourſt it, That the Cardinal was a haughtie Perſon, who had ſpent his Touth free from the dangers of War, in all the labyrinths of Court Intrigues, and would therefore run on with more precipitancy where the Violence of his revenge carried him. That he was no way hamper'd in the Pleaſures of Matrimonie, nor obnoxious to thoſe tenderneſſes of Affection that fetter other Men with the conſiderations of Mutual Compaſſion, and therefore there was no Perſon in all the Guiſian Family whom the King had more reaſon to expect would be more cruel in his revenge than the Cardinal. That his Complaints were uttered full of threats, while his Brothers Blood was yet warm, and the Example of a Puniſh'd Traytor reaking hot. What would he do when he ſhould find himſelf free from the fear of Death, that roar'd out danger like a Lyon in his Den?

To this they further urg'd, That when the Secret Council of the Party propos'd the thruſting the King into a Monaſtery, and one of the Council, more moderate, demanded Who would be ſo adventurous as to undertake it? The Cardinal of Guiſe, having firſt reproach'd the Cowheartedneſs of the other, declar'd aloud, That if they would but bring the King to him, he would hold him Neck and Shoulders between his own Knees, and ſet a Monks Crown upon his Head with the Point of a Dagger.

The King, who had not yet taken Breath in the hot purſuit of Publick Revenge, eaſily ſuffered himſelf to be convinc'd by theſe Arguments, and to command the Death of the Cardinal. The next day therefore the Execution was committed to Duguaſt, one of the Captains of the Regiment of Guards, who procur'd Four Soldiers to do the Buſineſs, upon a Promiſe of 100 Crowns apiece. With theſe Aſſiſtants Duguaſt goes to the Chamber where the Cardinal was kept, together with the Archbiſhop of Lyons, and calling him forth, as if the King had ſent for him, carried him into a Bie-place, where the Soldiers, after a little reſpite given him to recommend his Soul to Heaven, fell upon him, and beat out his Brains with their Halberts.

Richlieu, the Ordinary Judge of the King's Houſhold, took the Bodies of the two Brothers, and having burnt them, ſcatter'd their Aſhes in the Air, to prevent the People from turning their Bones into Reliques.

Mezeray makes three Remarques upon the Fall of theſe two Great Men. 1. That almoſt all thoſe who had a hand in the Murder periſh'd miſerably. 2. That they who were moſt oblig'd to the Houſe of Guiſe, had the chiefeſt hand in it. 3. That the two Princes were drawn into the Nooze under the Pretence of the Publick Faith, and by the ſame Artifices and Diſſimulations which themſelves had us'd to enſnare thoſe of the Houſe of Bourbon, and the Admiral Colligni, in the Pariſian Maſſacre.

The Character of Henry the Third of France, by Mezeray.

THE Softneſs of his Diſpoſition, and his Slothfulneſs, deliver'd him into the Hands of thoſe Perſons that effectually enfeebled whatever remain'd of Steady and Steadfaſt in his Mind, and diſſolv'd him altogether in Voluptuouſneſs; ſo that they utterly defac'd the Luſtre of all thoſe famous Actions, of which he carried away the Honour. And indeed it might have been queſtion'd whether he ever had any ſhare in thoſe Noble Enterpriſes, but that ſeveral Royal Qualities ſometimes brake out, and glitter'd thorow the gloomy Clouds of his Miſcarriages. It is a thing almoſt incredible, what exceſſive Sums his Profuſion waſted, and upon what Magnificent Gewgaws he emptied them. He plaid and loſt in one Evening Fourſcore thouſand Crowns. He was ſeen to run about in the Habit of a young Virgin, with all the Trinkets of a vain Goſſip. Among many others, he made one Feaſt, where the Women ſerv'd at Table in Mens Apparel, clad in Green, the Gueſts all wearing the ſame Livery. In requital of which, the Queen-Mother made him another, where the faireſt Ladies of the Court waited at Table, with Breaſts naked, and their Hair disſhevell'd. In ſhort, his Reign was commonly call'd at that time The Ruine of Favourites. fit Character to make a Parallel with one of the beſt-deſerving Princes in Europe.

FINIS.