Chapter I · —How the King of France cajoled the English after the Duke of Burgundy’s Death, for fear they should have interrupted him in the Conquest of the Territories belonging to the said Duke.—1477. (continued 2)

62. The Duke’s subjects shall have all manner of protection and encouragement, in respect to navigation and commerce, equally with those of France.

63. Any prizes taken after the publication of the peace shall be restored, for the prevention whereof, the peace shall on both sides be proclaimed without delay.

64. Such as are malefactors and delinquents, after the peace, shall be seized on both sides, and returned to be punished by the parties to whom they belong.

65. The infractors and violators of this peace, be they who they will, shall be punished unfeignedly for an example to others, in the places where they are taken.

66. In case this peace should in any way be contravened, it shall not be reputed an infraction or rupture; but the breach shall forthwith be made up, and reparation made, without coming to hostilities either by sea or land, before the King and the Duke’s ambassadors have met together to adjust the difference in an amicable way.

67. It is agreed, that as soon as the said lady is brought to Lisle or Douay, and before she be conducted to Arras, the promises and sureties which follow shall be given the Duke and States. That in case the Dauphin do not accomplish the marriage in due time, the said lady shall be returned, at the King’s or Dauphin’s charge, to her father or brother, in one of the good towns of Brabant, Flanders, or Hainault, in the Duke’s possession; and the King and Dauphin, in that case, shall quit all pretensions for keeping the territories and countries of Artois, Burgundy, Charolois, Maconnois, Auxerrois, the lordships of Salins, Bar-sur-Seine, and Noyers, and surrender them to the Duke in the name of his son Philip, while under age, or to Philip when of age, reserving only the homage and sovereignty to him.

68. The King shall also, upon the failure of the marriage, renounce his right to Lisle, Douay, and Orchies, and consent they shall belong for ever to the Counts and Countesses of Flanders.

69. The signing, sealing, and ratifying of all the premises in ample and due form, shall be done by the parties on either sides. The treaty shall also be registered and verified in the court of the Parliament of Paris, and in the Chambers of Accompts, and of the Finances.

The rest of the articles being mere matter of form, concerning the observation of the treaty, are omitted.

Ch. VII.—How the King sent for the Holy Man of Calabria to Tours, supposing he could cure him; and of the strange Things that were done by the King, during his Sickness, to preserve his Authority.—1482.

Among men renowned for devotion, King Louis sent into Calabria for one Friar Robert⁠[98], who, for the holiness and purity of his life, was called the “Holy Man;” and in honour to whom our present King erected a monastery at Plessis-du-Parc, in compensation for the chapel near Plessis at the end of the bridge.⁠[99] This hermit, at the age of twelve years, was put into a hole in a rock, where he lived until the age of three and forty years and upwards, when the King sent for him by a steward of his household⁠[100], in the company of the Prince of Tarento, the son of the King of Naples. For this hermit would not stir without leave from his Holiness, and from his king, which was great discretion in a man so inexperienced in the affairs of the world, though he had built two churches in the place where he lived; and he never had eaten flesh, fish, eggs, milk, or any thing that was fat⁠[101], since he undertook that austerity of life, nor has he yet; and truly I never saw any man living so holy, nor out of whose mouth the Holy Ghost did more manifestly speak; for he was not illiterate, though he had never been taught; only his Italian tongue was a great assistance to him.

This hermit passed through Naples, where he was respected, and visited (with as much pomp and ceremony, as if he had been the Pope’s Legate) both by the King of Naples and his children, with whom he conversed as if he had been all the days of his life a courtier. From thence he went to Rome, where he was visited by all the cardinals, had audience three times of the Pope, and was every time alone with him three or four hours, sitting beside him in a rich chair (which was great honour for a person of his low condition), and answering so discreetly to everything that was asked him, that everybody was astonished at it, and his Holiness gave him leave to institute a new order, called the Hermits of St. Francis. From Rome he came to our king⁠[102], who paid him the same honour as he would have done to the Pope himself, falling down upon his knees before him, and begging him to prolong his life: to which he replied as a prudent man ought. I have heard him often in discourse with the present king, in the presence of all the nobility of the kingdom, and that not above two months ago; and it seemed to me that whatever he said or remonstrated, was suggested by inspiration, or else it would have been impossible for him to have spoken of some things that he discoursed of. He is still living, and may grow either better or worse, and therefore I will say nothing. There were some of the courtiers that made a jest of the king’s sending for this hermit, and called him the Holy Man, by way of banter; but they knew not the thoughts of that wise king, and had not seen what it was that induced him to do it.

Our king was at Plessis, with little company but his archers, and the suspicions I mentioned before, against which he had carefully provided; for he allowed no person, of whom he had any suspicion, to remain either in the town or country; but he sent his archers not only to warn, but to conduct them away. No business was communicated to him but what was of great importance, and highly concerned him. To look upon him one would have thought him rather a dead than a living man. He was grown so lean, it was scarce credible: his clothes were now richer and more magnificent than they had ever been before; his gowns were all of crimson satin, lined with rich martens’ furs, of which he gave several away, without being requested; for no person durst ask a favour of him, or scarce speak to him of any thing. He inflicted very severe punishments to inspire dread, and for fear of losing his authority, as he told me himself. He removed officers, disbanded soldiers, retrenched pensions, and sometimes took them away altogether; so that, as he told me not many days before his death, he passed his time in making and ruining men; which caused him to be talked of more than any of his predecessors, and he did this that his subjects might take notice he was not yet dead; for few were admitted into his presence (as I said before), and when they heard of his vagaries, nobody was willing to believe he was sick.

He also sent agents to all foreign courts. In England, their business was to carry on the treaty of marriage⁠[103], and pay King Edward and his ministers of state their pensions very punctually. In Spain, their instructions were to amuse that court with fair words, and to distribute presents as they found it necessary for the advancement of his affairs. In remoter countries, where he had no mind his indisposition should be known, he caused fine horses or mules to be bought at any rate whatever; but this was not done in France. He had a mighty curiosity for dogs⁠[104], and sent into foreign countries for them; into Spain for mastiffs; into Bretagne for greyhounds and spaniels; to Valentia for little shaggy dogs; and bought them at a dearer price than the people asked. He sent into Sicily to buy a mule of an officer of that country, and paid him double the value. At Naples he bought horses; and purchased strange creatures wherever they could be found, such as a sort of lions from Barbary⁠[105] no bigger than foxes, and which are called adits. He sent into Sweden and Denmark for two sorts of beasts those countries afforded; one of them called an elk, of the shape of a stag, and the size of a buffalo, with short and thick horns; the other, called reindeers, of the shape and colour of a fallow deer, but with much larger horns; indeed I have seen reindeers with fifty-four horns; for six of each of which beasts he gave the merchants four thousand five hundred Dutch florins.⁠[106] Yet, when all these rarities were brought to him, he never valued them, and many times would not so much as see the persons who brought them to him. In short, he behaved himself after so strange a manner, that he was more formidable, both to his neighbours and subjects, than he had ever been before; and indeed that was his design, and the motive which induced him to act so unaccountably.

Ch. VIII.—Of the Conclusion of the Marriage between the Dauphin and Margaret of Flanders, and how she was brought into France; upon which Edward IV., King of England, died with displeasure.—1482-3.

But to return to our principal design, and to the conclusion of these Memoirs, and the affairs of all the illustrious persons of the age in which they were transacted, it is absolutely necessary for us to speak of the conclusion of the marriage between our present king (then Dauphin of France) and the daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Austria, which was effected by the mediation of the citizens of Ghent, to the great displeasure of the King of England, who found himself deluded in the hopes he had entertained of marrying his daughter to the Dauphin, of which marriage both himself and his queen were more ambitious than of any other match in the world; and never would believe any man, whether subject or foreigner, that endeavoured to persuade them that our king’s intentions were not sincere and honourable. For the Parliament of England had remonstrated to King Edward several times, when our king was in Picardy, that after he had conquered that province he would certainly fall upon Calais and Guynes, which are not far off. The ambassadors from the Duke and Duchess of Austria, as also those from the Duke of Bretagne, who were continually in England at that time, represented the same thing to him, but to no purpose; for he would believe nothing of it⁠[107], and he suffered greatly for his incredulity: yet I am entirely of opinion his conduct proceeded not so much from ignorance as avarice, for he was afraid to lose his annual pension of fifty thousand crowns, which our master paid very punctually; and, besides, he was unwilling to leave his ease and pleasures, to which he was extremely given.

There was a conference held at Halots, in Flanders, about this marriage, at which the Duke of Austria (now King of the Romans) was present, with several commissioners from the three Estates of Flanders, Brabant, and other territories belonging to the Duke and his children. There the Gantois did several things contrary to the Duke’s inclination; for they banished his officers, removed old servants from about his son, told him their desire to have the marriage concluded, in order to establish peace, and forced him to an accommodation, whether he would or not. The Duke was very young, and but scantily provided with sense; for all belonging to the house of Burgundy were either slain or revolted to France, or at least the greatest part, I mean of such as were capable of advising him; so that coming thither with a small retinue, and having lost his duchess, who was sovereign in those provinces, he durst not speak so boldly to his subjects as when she was alive. In short, the King was informed of all these proceedings by the Lord des Cordes, and was very well pleased; and a day was set for the young lady to be conducted to Hesdin.

A few days before, in the year 1481, Aire was delivered up, for a sum of money⁠[108], to the Lord des Cordes, by the Lord de Cohem (a gentleman of Artois), who had held it under his captain, the Lord de Beurs⁠[109], for the Duke of Austria, a good while. The surrender of this town, which was very strong, and situated in Artois, at the very entrance into their country, helped the Flemings to hasten the marriage, for though they were well enough pleased at the diminution of the Duke’s power, yet they did not care to have the King so near them upon their frontiers. As soon as measures were concerted, as I said before, ambassadors were sent to the King from Flanders and Brabant⁠[110]; but all depended upon the Gantois, by reason of their strength, and because the Duke’s children were in their hands, and they were always the most forward in every commotion. With them there came in behalf of the King of the Romans, certain young noblemen much about his own age, and but indifferently qualified to make terms of peace for their country; Monsieur John de Berghes⁠[111] was one, and Monsieur Baudouin de Lannoy⁠[112] was the other, besides some few secretaries. Our king was then very ill, and had no inclination to be seen, and pretended great difficulty about swearing to the treaties in the manner agreed on; but it was only because he was unwilling they should see him. However, he swore to them at last, which was much to his advantage; for whereas in all his former overtures for the match, he demanded only the county of Artois or Burgundy, or whichever of the two they pleased to assign him: now, the States of Ghent (as he called them) were contented he should have both, and the counties of Maconnois, Charolois, and Auxerrois, into the bargain; and if they could have delivered Hainault, Namur, and all the subjects of that family who speak the French language, they would willingly have done so, on purpose to weaken their sovereign.

Our master was a cunning politician, and understood well enough that Flanders was of little importance to him, unless he could have Artois with it, which lies betwixt France and them, and is as it were a bridle to the Flemings, affording good soldiers upon occasion, to correct their wantonness and folly; and therefore in taking from the Earl of Flanders the county of Artois, he would leave him the most inconsiderable prince in Europe, without either subjects or authority, except by the permission of the Gantois; whose commissioners, William Ryn and Coppenole, whom I mentioned before (governors of Ghent), were at that time principal in the embassy. Upon the return of the ambassadors, the Lady Margaret was conducted to Hesdin, and delivered into the hands of the Lord des Cordes, in the year 1483, and with her came Madame de Ravestain, Duke Philip of Burgundy’s natural daughter, and they were received by the present Monsieur and Madame de Bourbon⁠[113], the Lord d’Albret⁠[114], and others from the king; and they brought her to Amboise, where the dauphin met her.⁠[115] If the Duke of Austria could have taken her from her convoy, he would willingly have done it before she left his dominions; but the Gantois had placed too strong a guard about her, for they had begun to abate much of their obedience to him, and many considerable persons joined with them, as having the custody of the young heir, and power of placing and displacing whom they pleased. Among the nobility who were resident in Ghent, there was the Lord of Ravestain, brother to the Duke of Cleves, and chief governor to the young prince, whose name is Philip, still living, and like to possess vast territories, if it please God to spare his life.

But whoever was pleased with this match, the King of England was highly affronted; for he thought himself disgraced and baffled, and in danger of losing his pension or tribute, as the English called it. He feared likewise it would render him contemptible at home, and occasion some rebellion, more especially because he had rejected the remonstrances of his council. Besides, he saw the King of France ready to invade his dominions with a very great force; which made such a deep impression upon his spirits, that he fell sick immediately upon hearing the news, and died not long after, though some say he died of a catarrh. But let them say what they please, the general opinion was, his grief at the consummation of this marriage, caused the illness which killed him in the month of April, 1483.⁠[116] It is a great fault in a prince to be obstinate, and rely more upon his own judgment than on the opinion of his council; and sometimes it occasions such losses and disappointments as are never to be repaired.

Our King was quickly informed of King Edward’s death; but he expressed no manner of joy upon hearing the news. Not long after, he received letters from the Duke of Gloucester, who had made himself king⁠[117], styled himself Richard III., and barbarously murdered his two nephews.⁠[118] This King Richard desired to live in the same friendship with our king as his brother had done, and I believe would gladly have had his pension continued; but our king looked upon him as an inhuman and cruel person, and would neither answer his letters nor give audience to his ambassador; for King Richard, after his brother’s death, had sworn allegiance to his nephew, as his king and sovereign, and yet committed that inhuman action not long after; and, in full Parliament, caused two of his brother’s daughters to be degraded and declared illegitimate, upon a pretence which he justified by means of the Bishop of Bath, who, having been formerly in great favour with King Edward, had incurred his displeasure, was dismissed, imprisoned, and fined a good sum for his releasement.⁠[119] This bishop affirmed, that King Edward being in love with a certain lady whom he named, and otherwise unable to have his desires of her, had promised her marriage; and caused the bishop to marry them, upon which he enjoyed her person, though his promise was only made to delude her; but such games are dangerous, as the effects frequently demonstrate. I have known many a courtier who would not have lost such a fair lady for want of promises.

This malicious prelate smothered this revenge in his heart near twenty years together, but it recoiled upon himself, for he had a son, of whom he was extremely fond, and to whom King Richard designed to give a plentiful estate, and to have married him to one of the young ladies whom he had declared illegitimate (who is now Queen of England, and has two fine children).⁠[120] This young gentleman being on board ship by commission from King Richard, was taken upon the coast of Normandy, and upon a dispute between those that took him, he was brought before the Parliament at Paris, put into the Petit Chastellet, and suffered to lie there till he was starved to death. This King Richard himself lived not long, no more did the Duke of Buckingham⁠[121], who had put the two children to death, for King Richard himself, a very few days afterwards, ordered his execution; and against King Richard God on a sudden raised up an enemy⁠[122], without power, without money, without right to the crown of England⁠[123], and without any reputation but what his person and deportment obtained for him; for he had suffered much, and had been, from the eighteenth year of his age, prisoner in Bretagne to Duke Francis, who treated him as kindly as the necessity of his imprisonment would permit. The King of France having supplied him with some money, with about three thousand Normans, the loosest and most profligate persons in all that country, he passed into Wales, where his father-in-law, the Lord Stanley, joined him with twenty-five thousand men at the least; in three or four days’ time he met cruel King Richard, who was slain on the field of battle; and he was crowned King of England, and reigns at this present time.⁠[124] I have discoursed on this subject already, but it is not improper to mention it again, if only to show that God in our times has taken vengeance for such cruelties immediately, without delaying his judgments. Several other princes besides have met with the same reward of their villanies, in our days; but who could enumerate them?

Ch. IX.—How the King behaved towards his Neighbours and Subjects during his Sickness; and how several Things were sent him from several Parts, for the Recovery of his Health.—1483.

After the consummation of this marriage, which our King had so earnestly desired, the Flemings were perfectly at his command: Bretagne (which he hated so bitterly) was at peace with him, but he kept them in great awe and terror by the number of his forces, which he quartered upon their frontiers. Spain was quiet, and her king and queen desired nothing more than to live in peace and amity with him, for he kept them, likewise, in perpetual fear and expense about the country of Roussillon, which he held of the House of Arragon, and which had been given him by John King of Arragon, father to the present King of Castile, as security for some conditions⁠[125] which have never yet been performed. The princes of Italy all courted his friendship; and some of them had entered into alliance with him, and sent ambassadors often to his court. In Germany the Swiss were as obedient to him as his own subjects. The Kings of Scotland⁠[126] and Portugal⁠[127] were his allies. Part of Navarre⁠[128] was perfectly at his disposal. His subjects trembled before him; whatever he commanded was instantly executed, without the least difficulty or hesitation.

Whatever was thought conducible to his health⁠[129], was sent to him from all corners of the world. Pope Sixtus⁠[130] (who died lately) being informed of the King’s illness, and that he, in his devotion, desired to have the corporal, or vest, which the Apostle St. Peter used when he sung mass, sent it immediately, and several relics⁠[131] besides, which were returned to him. The holy vial at Rheims, which had never been moved before, was brought to his chamber at Plessis, and stood upon his buffet when he died, for he designed to be anointed with it again, as he was at his coronation. Some were of opinion that he designed to have anointed himself all over, but that was not likely, for the vial is but small, and there is no great store of oil in it.⁠[132] I saw it myself at the time I speak of, and also when our Lord the King was interred in the church of Notre Dame de Clery.⁠[133] The Great Turk⁠[134] that now reigns, sent an ambassador⁠[135] to him, who came as far as Riez, in Provence; but the King would not hear him, nor permit him to proceed any farther, though he brought him a large roll of relics which had been left at Constantinople in the hands of the Turk; all which, and a considerable sum of money besides, he offered to deliver into the king’s hands, if he would keep guard over a brother⁠[136] of the Turk’s, who was then in France, in the custody of the Knights of Rhodes, and is now at Rome, in the hands of the Pope. From all which one may be able to judge of the wisdom and greatness of our King, and of the great esteem and character he bore in the world, when spiritual things, dedicated to devotion and religion, were employed for the lengthening of his life, as well as things temporal and secular. But all endeavours to prolong his life proved ineffectual; his time was come, and he must needs follow his predecessors. Yet in one thing God Almighty favoured him in a peculiar manner, for, as he had made him more prudent, liberal, and virtuous in all things than the contemporary princes, who were his neighbours and enemies, so he suffered him to survive them, though not for a very long time. For Charles Duke of Burgundy, the Duchess of Austria his daughter, King Edward of England, Duke Galeas of Milan, and John King of Arragon, were all dead a few years before him; but King Edward and the Duchess of Austria died very shortly before his decease. In all of them there was a mixture of bad as well as good, for they were but mortals. But, without flattery, I may say of our King, that he was possessed of more qualifications suitable to the majesty and office of a prince than any of the rest, for I had seen most of them, and knew the extent of their abilities.

Ch. X.—How King Louis sent for his Son Charles a little before his Death; and the Precepts and Commands which he laid upon him and others.

In the year 1482 the King desired to see the Dauphin his son, whom he had not seen for several years; for besides his being of opinion that it was better for his son’s health to have but few come near him, he was afraid lest he should be taken out of his management, and made the occasion for some conspiracy against him, as had been done by himself against his father, King Charles VII., when, at eleven⁠[137] years of age, he was taken away by some lords of the kingdom, and engaged in a war called the Praguerie⁠[138], which lasted not long, and was merely a court faction.

Above all things, he recommended to the Dauphin certain of his servants, and laid his commands expressly upon him not to change any of his officers, declaring that upon the death of his father Charles VII., and his own accession to the throne, he had imprudently dismissed all the good officers of the kingdom, both military and civil, who had assisted his father in the conquest of Normandy and Guyenne, served him in the expulsion of the English, and contributed much to the restoration of peace and tranquillity throughout the kingdom; which rash method of proceeding proved highly to his prejudice, for it was the foundation of the war called the Public Good, which I mentioned before⁠[139], and which had like to have cost him his crown. Soon after the King had given this advice to his son, and concluded the marriage⁠[140] above mentioned, upon a Monday⁠[141] the illness seized him of which he died, and it lasted until the Saturday following, the last day but one of August, 1483; I was present at the termination of his illness, and therefore I think myself entitled to say something of his death.

Not long after his being seized with this last fit, he was deprived of his speech, as he had been formerly; and though he recovered that again, yet he found himself much weaker than he had ever been (though indeed he was so weak before that he had scarce strength to lift his hand to his mouth), and he became so meagre and lean, that every one who saw him pitied him. The King, perceiving he had not long to live, sent for the Lord de Beaujeu (who had married his daughter, and is now Duke of Bourbon), and commanded him to go to Amboise, to his son the king, as he called him. He recommended his son to him, and all his servants, and gave him the charge and government of the young king, and made him promise, for several good reasons, not to permit certain persons to come near him; and, if the Lord de Beaujeu had observed his commands strictly, or at least the best part of them, (for some were contradictory and not to be observed,) I am of opinion, considering what has since happened, it had been much better both for the kingdom and himself.

After this he sent the chancellor⁠[142], with all that were under him, to carry the seals to the king his son. He also sent him some archers of his guard, several of his captains, the officers of his hounds and hawks, and all others in charge of his sports; and he desired all that were going to Amboise to pay their respects to the king his son, to be faithful and true to him; and by every one he sent him some message or other, but more especially by Stephen de Vers⁠[143], who had brought up the young king, serving him in quality of first gentleman of his bed-chamber, and had been made Bailiff of Meaux by King Louis. After the recovery of his speech, his senses never failed him, and indeed were never so quick, for he had a continual looseness upon him, which kept the vapours from ascending to his head. In all his sickness he never complained, as most other people do when they are ill; at least I am of that nature, and I have known many of the same temper; and the common opinion is that complaining alleviates our pain.

Ch. XI.—A Comparison of the Troubles and Sorrows which King Louis suffered, with those he had brought upon other People; with a Continuation of his Transactions till the Time of his Death.—1483.

He was continually discoursing on some subject or another, and always with a great deal of sense and judgment. His last illness (as I said before) continued from Monday to Saturday night. Upon which account I will now make comparison between the evils and sorrows which he brought upon others, and those which he suffered in his own person: for I hope his torments here on earth, have translated him into Paradise, and will be a great part of his purgatory: and if, in respect of their greatness and duration, his sufferings were inferior to those he had brought upon other people, yet, if you consider the grandeur and dignity of his office, and that he had never before suffered anything in his own person, but had been obeyed by all people, as if all Europe had been created for no other end, but to serve and be commanded by him; you will find that little which he endured was so contrary to his nature and custom that it was more grievous for him to bear.

His chief hope and confidence was placed in the good hermit I spoke of (who was at Plessis, and had come thither from Calabria); he sent continually to him, believing it was in his power to prolong his life if he pleased; for, notwithstanding all his precepts, he had great hopes of recovering; and if it had so happened, he would quickly have dispersed the throng he had sent to Amboise, to wait upon the new king. Finding his hopes rested so strongly upon this hermit, it was the advice of a certain grave divine⁠[144], and others who were about him, that it should be declared to him that there was no hope left for him but in the mercy of God; and it was also agreed among them, that his physician, Master James Coctier (in whom he had great confidence), should be present when this declaration was made him. This Coctier received of him every month ten thousand crowns, in the hope that he would lengthen his life. This resolution was taken to the end that he should lay aside all other thoughts, and apply himself wholly to the settlement of his conscience. And as he had advanced them, as it were, in an instant, and against all reason, to employments beyond their capacities, so they took upon them fearlessly to tell him a thing that had been more proper for other people to communicate; nor did they observe that reverence and respect towards him, which was proper in such a case, and would have been used by those persons who had been brought up with him, or by those whom, in a mere whim, he had removed from court but a little before. But, as he had sent a sharp message of death to two great persons whom he had formerly beheaded (the Duke of Nemours⁠[145], and the Count of St. Paul⁠[146]), by commissioners deputed on purpose, who in plain terms told them their sentence, appointed them confessors to arrange their consciences, and acquainted them that in a few hours they must resolve to die; so with the same bluntness, and without the least circumstance of introduction, these imprudent persons told our King: “Sire, we must do our duty; do not place your hopes any longer in this holy hermit, or anything else, for you are a dead man. Think therefore upon your conscience, for there is no remedy left.” Every one added some short saying to the same purpose; to which he answered, “I hope God will assist me, for perhaps I am not so ill as you imagine.”

What sorrow was this to him to hear this news! Never man was more fearful of death, nor used more means to prevent it. He had, all his life long, commanded and requested his servants, and me among the rest, that whenever we saw him in any danger of death, we should not tell him of it, but merely admonish him to confess himself, without ever mentioning that cruel and shocking word Death; for he did not believe he could ever endure to hear so cruel a sentence. However, he endured that virtuously, and several more things equally terrible, when he was ill; and indeed he bore them better than any man I ever saw die. He spoke several things, which were to be delivered to his son, whom he called king; and he confessed himself very devoutly, said several prayers suitable to the sacraments he received, and called for the sacraments himself. He spoke as judiciously as if he had never been ill, discoursed of all things which might be necessary for his son’s instruction, and among the rest gave orders that the Lord des Cordes should not stir from his son for six months; and that he should be desired to attempt nothing against Calais, or elsewhere, declaring, that though he had designed himself to undertake such enterprises for the benefit of both the king and the kingdom, yet they were very dangerous, especially that against Calais, because the English might resent it; and he left it in especial charge, that for five or six years after his death, they should, above all things, preserve the kingdom in peace, which during his life he had never suffered. And indeed it was no more than was necessary; for, though the kingdom was large and fertile, yet it was grown very poor, upon account of the marching and counter-marching of the soldiers up and down, in their passage from one country to another, as they have done since, to an even worse extent. He also ordered that nothing should be attempted against Bretagne, but that Duke Francis should be suffered to live in peace; that both he and his neighbours might be without fear, and the king and kingdom remain free from wars, till the king should be of age, to take upon himself the administration of affairs.

You have already heard with what indiscretion and bluntness they acquainted the king with his approaching death; which I have mentioned in a more particular manner, because in a preceding paragraph I began to compare the evils, which he had made others suffer, who lived under his dominion, with those he endured himself before his death; that it might appear that, though they were not perhaps of so long a duration, yet they were fully as great and terrible, considering his station and dignity, which required more obedience than any private person, and had found more; so that the least opposition was a great torment to him. Some five or six months before his death, he began to suspect everybody, especially those who were most capable and deserving of the administration of affairs. He was afraid of his son, and caused him to be kept close, so that no man saw or discoursed with him, but by his special command. At last he grew suspicious of his daughter, and of his son-in-law the Duke of Bourbon, and required an account of what persons came to speak with them at Plessis, and broke up a council which the Duke of Bourbon was holding there, by his order.

At the time that the Count of Dunois⁠[147] and the said Duke of Bourbon returned from conducting the ambassadors, who had been at Amboise to attend the marriage of the Dauphin and the young queen, the King being in the gallery at Plessis, and seeing them enter with a great train into the castle, called for a captain of the guards, and commanded him to go and search the servants of those lords, to see whether they had any arms under their robes; and ordered him to do it in discourse, so as no notice might be taken. Behold, then, if he had caused many to live under him in continual fear and apprehension, whether it was not returned to him again; for of whom could he be secure when he was afraid of his son-in-law, his daughter, and his own son? I speak this not only of him, but of all other princes who desire to be feared, that vengeance never falls on them till they grow old, and then, as a just penance, they are afraid of everybody themselves; and what grief must it have been to this poor King to be tormented with such terrors and passions?

He was still attended by his physician, Master James Coctier, to whom in five months’ time he had given fifty-four thousand crowns in ready money, besides the bishopric of Amiens for his nephew⁠[148], and other great offices and estates for himself and his friends; yet this doctor used him very roughly indeed; one would not have given such outrageous language to one’s servants, as he gave the King, who stood in such awe of him, that he durst not forbid him his presence. It is true he complained of his impudence afterwards, but he durst not change him as he had done all the rest of his servants; because he had told him after a most audacious manner one day, “I know well that some time or other you will dismiss me from court, as you have done the rest; but be sure (and he confirmed it with a great oath) you shall not live eight days after it⁠[149];” with which expression the king was so terrified, that ever after he did nothing but flatter and bribe him, which must needs have been a great mortification to a prince who had been humbly obeyed all his life by so many good and brave men.

The King had ordered several cruel prisons to be made; some were cages of iron, and some of wood, but all were covered with iron plates both within and without, with terrible locks, about eight feet wide and seven high; the first contriver of them was the Bishop of Verdun⁠[150], who was immediately put in the first of them that was made, where he continued fourteen years. Many bitter curses he has had since for his invention, and some from me as I lay in one of them eight months together in the minority of our present King. He also ordered heavy and terrible fetters to be made in Germany, and particularly a certain ring for the feet, which was extremely hard to be opened, and fitted like an iron collar, with a thick weighty chain, and a great globe of iron at the end of it, most unreasonably heavy, which engines were called the King’s Nets. However, I have seen many eminent and deserving persons in these prisons, with these nets about their legs, who afterwards came forth with great joy and honour, and received great rewards from the King. Among the rest, a son⁠[151] of the Lord de la Grutuse, in Flanders (who was taken in battle), whom the king married very honourably afterwards, made him his chamberlain, and seneschal of Anjou, and gave him the command of a hundred lances. The Lord de Piennes⁠[152], and the Lord de Vergy⁠[153], both prisoners of war, also had commands given them in his army, were made his or his son’s chamberlains, and had great estates bestowed on them. Monsieur de Richebourg⁠[154], the constable’s brother, had the same good fortune, as did also one Roquebertin⁠[155], a Catalonian, likewise prisoner of war; besides others of various countries, too numerous to be mentioned in this place.

This by way of digression. But to return to my principal design. As in his time this barbarous variety of prisons was invented, so before he died he himself was in greater torment, and more terrible apprehension than those whom he had imprisoned; which I look upon as a great mercy towards him, and as part of his purgatory; and I have mentioned it here to show that there is no person, of what station or dignity soever, but suffers some time or other, either publicly or privately, especially if he has caused other people to suffer. The king, towards the latter end of his days, caused his castle of Plessis-les-Tours to be encompassed with great bars of iron in the form of thick grating, and at the four corners of the house four sparrow-nests of iron, strong, massy, and thick, were built. The grates were without the wall on the other side of the ditch, and sank to the bottom. Several spikes of iron were fastened into the wall, set as thick by one another as was possible, and each furnished with three or four points. He likewise placed ten bow-men in the ditches, to shoot at any man that durst approach the castle before the opening of the gates; and he ordered they should lie in the ditches, but retire to the sparrow-nests upon occasion. He was sensible enough that this fortification was too weak to keep out an army, or any great body of men, but he had no fear of such an attack; his great apprehension was, that some of the nobility of his kingdom, having intelligence within, might attempt to make themselves masters of the castle by night, and having possessed themselves partly of it by favour, and partly by force, might deprive him of the regal authority, and take upon themselves the administration of public affairs; upon pretence he was incapable of business, and no longer fit to govern.

The gate of the Plessis was never opened, nor the drawbridge let down, before eight o’clock in the morning, at which time the officers were let in; and the captains ordered their guards to their several posts, with pickets of archers in the middle of the court, as in a town upon the frontiers that is closely guarded: nor was any person admitted to enter except by the wicket and with the king’s knowledge, unless it were the steward of his household, and such persons as were not admitted into the royal presence.⁠[156]

Is it possible then to keep a prince (with any regard to his quality) in a closer prison than he kept himself? The cages which were made for other people were about eight feet square; and he (though so great a monarch) had but a small court of the castle to walk in, and seldom made use of that, but generally kept himself in the gallery, out of which he went into the chambers on his way to mass, but never passed through the court. Who can deny that he was a sufferer as well as his neighbours, considering how he was locked up and guarded, afraid of his own children and relations, and changing every day those very servants whom he had brought up and advanced; and though they owed all their preferment to him, yet he durst not trust any of them, but shut himself up in those strange chains and enclosures. If the place where he confined himself was larger than a common prison, he also was much greater than common prisoners.

It may be urged that other princes have been more given to suspicion than he, but it was not in our time; and, perhaps, their wisdom was not so eminent, nor were their subjects so good. They might too, probably, have been tyrants, and bloody-minded; but our king never did any person a mischief who had not offended him first, though I do not say all who offended him deserved death. I have not recorded these things merely to represent our master as a suspicious and mistrustful prince; but to show, that by the patience which he expressed in his sufferings (like those which he inflicted on other people), they may be looked upon, in my judgment, as a punishment which our Lord inflicted upon him in this world, in order to deal more mercifully with him in the next, as well in regard to those things before-mentioned, as to the distempers of his body, which were great and painful, and much dreaded by him before they came upon him; and, likewise, that those princes who may be his successors, may learn by his example to be more tender and indulgent to their subjects, and less severe in their punishments than our master had been: although I will not censure him, or say I ever saw a better prince; for though he oppressed his subjects himself, he would never see them injured by anybody else.

After so many fears, sorrows, and suspicions, God, by a kind of miracle, restored him both in body and mind, as is His divine method in such kind of wonders; for He took him out of this miserable world in perfect health of mind, and understanding, and memory; after having received the sacraments himself, discoursing without the least twinge or expression of pain, and repeating his paternosters to the very last moment of his life. He gave directions⁠[157] for his own burial, appointed who should attend his corpse to the grave, and declared that he desired to die on a Saturday of all days in the week; and that he hoped Our Lady would procure him that favour, for in her he had always placed great trust, and served her very devoutly. And so it happened; for he died on Saturday, the 30th of August, 1483, at about eight in the evening, in the Castle of Plessis, where his illness seized him on the Monday before. May Our Lord receive his soul, and admit it unto His kingdom of Paradise!

Ch. XII.—A Digression concerning the Miseries of Mankind, especially of Princes, by the Example of those who reigned in the Author’s Time, and chiefly of King Louis.

Small hopes and comfort ought poor and inferior people to have in this world, considering what so great a king suffered and underwent, and how he was at last forced to leave all, and could not, with all his care and diligence, protract his life one single hour. I knew him, and was entertained in his service in the flower of his age, and at the height of his prosperity, yet I never saw him free from labour and care. Of all diversions he loved hunting and hawking in their seasons; but his chief delight was in dogs. As for ladies, he never meddled with any in my time; for about the time of my coming to his court he lost a son⁠[158], at whose death he was extremely afflicted, and he made a vow to God in my presence never to have intercourse with any other woman but the queen; and though this was no more than what he was bound to do by the canons of the church, yet it was much that his self-command should be so great, that he should be able to persevere in his resolution so firmly, considering that the queen (though an excellent princess in other respects) was not a person in whom a man could take any great delight.

In hunting, his eagerness and pain were equal to his pleasure, for his chase was the stag, which he always ran down. He rose very early in the morning, rode sometimes a great distance, and would not leave his sport, let the weather be never so bad; and when he came home at night he was often very weary, and generally in a violent passion with some of his courtiers or huntsmen; for hunting is a sport not always to be managed according to the master’s direction; yet, in the opinion of most people, he understood it as well as any prince of his time. He was continually at these sports, lodging in the country villages to which his recreations led him, till he was interrupted by business; for during the most part of the summer there was constantly war between him and Charles Duke of Burgundy, and in the winter they made truces.

He was also involved in some trouble about the county of Roussillon, with John, King of Arragon, father of Peter of Castile, who at present is King of Spain; for though both of them were poor, and already at variance with their subjects in Barcelona and elsewhere, and though the son had nothing but the expectation of succeeding to the throne of Don Henry of Castile, his wife’s brother (which fell to him afterwards), yet they made considerable resistance; for that province being entirely devoted to their interest, and they being universally beloved by the people, they gave our king abundance of trouble, and the war lasted till his death, and many brave men lost their lives in it, and his treasury was exhausted by it; so that he had but a little time during the whole year to spend in pleasure, and even then the fatigues he underwent were excessive. When his body was at rest his mind was at work, for he had affairs in several places at once, and would concern himself as much in those of his neighbours as in his own, putting officers of his own over all the great families, and endeavouring to divide their authority as much as possible. When he was at war he laboured for a peace or a truce, and when he had obtained it, he was impatient for war again. He troubled himself with many trifles in his government, which he had better have let alone: but it was his temper, and he could not help it; besides, he had a prodigious memory, and he forgot nothing, but knew everybody, as well in other countries as in his own.

And, in truth, he seemed better fitted to rule a world than to govern a single kingdom. I speak not of his minority, for then I was not with him; but when he was eleven years old, he was, by the advice of some of the nobility, and others of his kingdom, embroiled in a war with his father, Charles VII., which lasted not long, and was called the Praguerie. When he was arrived at man’s estate, he was married, much against his inclination, to the King of Scotland’s daughter⁠[159]; and he regretted her existence during the whole course of her life. Afterwards, by reason of the broils and factions in his father’s court, he retired into Dauphiny⁠[160] (which was his own), whither many persons of quality followed him, and indeed more than he could entertain. During his residence in Dauphiny he married the Duke of Savoy’s daughter⁠[161], and not long after he had great disputes with his father-in-law, and a terrible war was begun between them. His father, King Charles VII., seeing his son attended by so many good officers, and raising men at his pleasure, resolved to go in person against him, with a considerable body of forces, in order to disperse them. While he was upon his march he put out proclamations, requiring them all, as his subjects, under great penalties, to repair to him; and many obeyed, to the great displeasure of the Dauphin, who, finding his father incensed, though he was strong enough to resist, resolved to retire, and leave that country to him; and accordingly he removed, with but a slender retinue, into Burgundy, to Duke Philip’s court, who received him honourably, furnished him nobly, and maintained him⁠[162] and his principal servants (as the Count de Comminges⁠[163], the Lord de Montauban⁠[164], and others), by way of pensions, and to the rest he gave presents, as he saw occasion, during the whole time of their residence there. However, the Dauphin entertained so many at his own expense, that his money often failed, to his great disgust and mortification; for he was forced to borrow⁠[165], or his people would have forsaken him, which is certainly a great affliction to a prince who was utterly unaccustomed to those straits. So that during his residence at the court of Burgundy he had his anxieties, for he was constrained to cajole the duke and his ministers, lest they should think he was too burdensome, and had laid too long upon their hands, for he had been with them six⁠[166] years, and his father, King Charles, was constantly pressing and soliciting the Duke of Burgundy, by his ambassadors, either to deliver him up to him, or to banish him out of his dominions.⁠[167] And this, you may believe, gave the Dauphin some uneasy thoughts, and would not suffer him to be idle. In which season of his life, then, was it that he may be said to have enjoyed himself? I believe from his infancy and innocence to his death, his whole life was nothing but one continued scene of troubles and fatigues⁠[168]; and I am of opinion, that if all the days of his life were computed in which his joys and pleasures outweighed his pain and trouble, they would be found so few, that there would be twenty mournful ones to one pleasant. He lived about sixty-one years, yet he always fancied he should never outlive sixty, giving this for a reason, that for a long time no king of France had lived beyond that age. Some say, since the time of Charlemagne; but the king our master was far advanced in his sixty-first year.⁠[169]

What ease or what pleasure did Charles, Duke of Burgundy, enjoy more than our master King Louis? In his youth, indeed, he had less trouble, for he did not begin to enter upon any action till nearly the two-and-thirtieth year of his age; so that before that time he lived in great ease and quiet. His first quarrel was with his father’s chief officers; and as his father took their part, he immediately withdrew from court, and retired into Holland⁠[170], where being well received, he fell immediately into intelligence with the Gantois, and went and visited his father sometimes. He had no allowance from his father; but Holland, being a rich country, made him great presents, as did several other great towns, hoping thereby to insinuate themselves into his favour, and reap the advantage after Duke Philip’s death. And it is the common custom of the world to worship the rising sun, and court him whose future authority will be great, rather than him who is already at the height of his fortune, and can never be higher. For this reason, when Duke Philip was informed that the Gantois had expressed great kindness for his son, and that he understood how to manage them, he answered, “They always love him who is to be their sovereign; but as soon as he is their lord they will hate him.” And his saying was true, for from the time of Duke Philip’s death and Charles’s accession, their love began to decline, and they showed it openly, and he, on the other side, cared as little for them; yet they did more mischief to his posterity than they could possibly do to him.

But to continue these Memoirs. From the time Duke Charles undertook his war to recover the towns in Picardy, (which our master had redeemed from Duke Philip), and joined himself with the lords of the kingdom in the war called the Public Good, what pleasure, what tranquillity had he? He had continual trouble and labour, without the least cessation or refreshment, either to his body or mind; for glory got entire possession of his heart, and constantly spurred him on to attempt new conquests. He was always in the field during summer, exposing his person to the greatest danger, taking the care and command of the whole army upon himself; and yet he thought his work too little. He was the first that rose, and the last that went to bed in the camp; and he slept in his clothes, like the poorest foot-soldier in the army. In winter, when the campaign was over, he was busily employed about raising money; six hours every morning he set apart for conferences, and for giving audience to ambassadors; and in this perpetual hurry of affairs he ended his days, and was killed by the Swiss in the battle of Nancy, as you have already heard; so that it cannot be said that he enjoyed one happy day from the time of his beginning to aggrandise himself to the hour of his death; and then what were the fruits of all his pains and labour? Or what necessity was there of his doing so? since he was a rich prince, and had towns and territories large enough already to have made him happy, if he could have been contented with them.

The next prince whom we shall have occasion to mention is Edward IV., King of England, a great and powerful monarch. In his minority he saw his father the Duke of York⁠[171] defeated and slain in battle, and with him the father⁠[172] of the Earl of Warwick, who governed the king in his youth, and managed all his affairs; and, to say the truth, it was the Earl of Warwick who made Edward king, and dethroned his old master, King Henry VI., who had reigned many years in England, and (in my judgment, and the judgment of the world,) was the lawful king; but, in such cases, the disposal of kingdoms and great states is in the hands of God, who orders them as He pleases, for indeed all things proceed from Him. The reason of the Earl of Warwick’s espousing the interest of the House of York against King Henry, who was of the Lancastrian family, was upon a difference that happened at court betwixt the Duke of Somerset and the Earl of Warwick. The king not having wisdom enough to compose it, it grew to that height that the queen⁠[173] (who was of the house of Anjou, and daughter to René, King of Sicily) interposed in it, and inclined to the duke’s party against the Earl of Warwick; for all had acknowledged Henry, his father, and his grandfather, for their lawful kings. The queen would have acted much more prudently in endeavouring to have adjusted the dispute between them than in saying, “I am of this party, and will maintain it;” and it proved so by the event, for it occasioned many battles in England, and a war which continued nine-and-twenty years⁠[174]; and in the end nearly all the partisans of both sides were destroyed; so that factions and parties are very perilous and fatal, especially to the nobility, who are too prone to propagate and foment them. If it be alleged that by this means both parties are kept in awe, and the secret minds of his subjects are discovered to the prince, I agree that a young prince may encourage faction among his ladies, and it may be pleasant and diverting enough, and may give him opportunity of finding out some of their intrigues; but nothing is so dangerous to a nation as to nourish such factions and partialities among men of courage and magnanimity; it is no less than setting one’s own house on fire; for immediately some or other cry out, “The king is against us,” seize upon some fortified town, and correspond with his enemies. And certainly the factions of Orleans and Burgundy ought to make us wise on this point; for they began a war which lasted seventy-two years⁠[175], in which the English were concerned, and thought by those unhappy divisions to have conquered the kingdom.

But to return from this digression. King Edward was a very young prince, and one of the handsomest men of his age, at the time he had overcome all his difficulties; so he gave himself up wholly to pleasures, and took no delight in anything but ladies, dancing, entertainments, and the chase; and in this voluptuous course of life, if I mistake not, he spent about sixteen years, till the quarrel happened between him and the Earl of Warwick. In which contest, though the king was driven out of the kingdom, yet his misfortune lasted not long; for he quickly returned, obtained a victory, and afterwards fell again to his pleasures, and indulged himself in them more recklessly than before. From this time he feared nobody; but he grew very fat, and his excess inclining him to diseases, in the very flower of his age, he died suddenly (as it was reported) of an apoplexy⁠[176], and his family perished after him (as you have heard), as regarded the succession in the male line.

In our time also, there reigned two wise and valiant princes, Matthias, King of Hungary⁠[177], and Mahomet Ottoman, Emperor of the Turks.⁠[178] This King Matthias was the son of a very valiant gentleman, called the White Knight of Wallachia⁠[179], a person of great honour and prudence, who for a long time had governed the kingdom of Hungary, and had gained several battles over the Turks, who are neighbours to that country, by reason of the territories which they have usurped in Sclavonia, Bosnia, and Greece. Not long after his death, Lancelot⁠[180] came to man’s estate, who was heir to that kingdom, and to the kingdoms of Bohemia and Poland besides. This Lancelot was advised by some persons (as was reported) to seize upon the two sons of the White Knight, on the pretence that, as their father had obtained and exercised so much power and authority in that kingdom during his infancy, it was not improbable that his sons might do the same. Upon which the said Lancelot resolved to have them both apprehended, which was accordingly done. He put the eldest⁠[181] to death, and sent the other, which was Matthias, a prisoner to Buda, the chief town in Hungary; but he did not remain long in confinement (God Almighty being perhaps pleased with the services of his father), for, awhile after, King Lancelot was poisoned at Prague, in Bohemia, by a lady of quality (whose brother I have seen), with whom he had been in love, and she with him; but being incensed at his intended marriage in France, with the daughter⁠[182] of King Charles VII. (called now the Princess of Vienne), which was contrary to his engagement to her, she poisoned him in a bath, by giving him an apple to eat, and conveying poison into the haft of his knife. Upon the death of Lancelot, the barons of Hungary assembled at Buda for the election of a king, according to an ancient privilege which they have, to elect their king when his predecessor has died without issue. Whilst they were mightily divided, and in great controversy about the election, the widow of the White Knight, and mother of Matthias, entered the town with a very splendid equipage; for she was very rich, especially in ready money, which her husband had left her, by means of which she was able to raise men immediately; and, besides, it is not improbable that she had partisans in the town, and among the electors, upon account of the influence and authority her husband had had in that kingdom. As soon as she came into the city, she marched directly to the prison, and released her son; upon which some of the barons and prelates who were assembled fled in terror out of the town, and those that remained chose Matthias for their king; and he reigned among them in great prosperity, with as much applause and esteem as any of his predecessors, and in some things with even more. He was a man of as much courage as any of that age, and obtained many signal victories over the Turks, without any loss to his kingdom, which he much enlarged, as well towards Turkey as towards Bohemia (most of which was in his possession), and also in Wallachia (where he was born) and Sclavonia; and on the side towards Germany he took the greatest part of Austria from the Emperor Frederic, and kept it till his death, which happened in Vienna, the chief city of Austria, in the year 1491. He was a prince who managed his affairs discreetly, both in peace and in war. Towards the latter end of his days, finding he was become formidable, he began to affect a pompous and splendid way of living, and provided great store of rich hangings, jewels, and plate, for the adornment of his palace. All his business was dispatched by himself, or by his direction: he had also an inclination to make himself terrible to his own subjects, and became a very tyrant towards his latter end; after which he fell into a grievous and incurable distemper, as it were in his youth (for he was but eight-and-twenty⁠[183] years of age), and died: his life having been one continued scene of labour and sorrow, without any great pleasure or ease.

The Turk, whom I mentioned before, was a wise and valiant prince, but he made more use of his cunning than of his courage. His father⁠[184] also was a valiant prince, who took Adrianople (that is to say, the city of Adrian), and left his son very great; and this son, at the age of twenty-three, took Constantinople⁠[185], or the city of Constantine; I have seen his portrait painted at that age, which represented him vigorous and sprightly. It was a great disgrace to all Christendom to suffer that city to be lost; he took it by assault, and the Emperor of the East⁠[186] (whom we called Emperor of Constantinople) was slain in the breach. Many brave men were killed with him in this assault, many great ladies ravished, and no manner of cruelty was omitted. This was his first exploit, but he continued to perform great actions, and so many, that I heard a Venetian ambassador say once in the presence of Charles, Duke of Burgundy, that this Mahomet had conquered two empires, four kingdoms, and two hundred cities; he meant, indeed, the empires of Constantinople and Trebizond⁠[187]; the kingdoms of Bosnia, Syria, Armenia, and I think Morea was the fourth. He conquered likewise many fair islands in the Archipelago (where the Venetians have two⁠[188] settlements), among others, Negropont and Mitylene; besides which he subdued nearly all Albania and Sclavonia: and as his conquests were great over the Christians, so were they no less considerable over those of his own religion, among whom he destroyed several great princes, as the Prince of Caramania⁠[189], and others.

The greatest part of his affairs were transacted by himself, according to the practice of our king and of the king of Hungary; and these three were without all dispute the wisest princes that had reigned for a hundred years. But the generosity of our master’s conversation, and his liberality to his servants, as well as to foreigners and others, distinguished him very much from the other two; and it is no wonder, for he was styled the most Christian King. As to worldly pleasures and enjoyments, this Turk had his share, and spent most of his time in them; and, indeed, he would have done more mischief to Christendom, had he not been so employed. He indulged himself in all kinds of sensuality, and was strangely given to gluttony, which brought him numberless diseases, which continued upon him as long as he lived. Every spring he had a swelling in his legs, that made them as big as a man’s waist (as I have heard from those who have seen it); and the swelling never broke, but dispersed of its own accord, and no surgeon could tell what to make of it, but all agreed his gluttony was the occasion of it, though perhaps it was a judgment from heaven; and one reason why he suffered himself to be seen so seldom, and kept himself shut up in his seraglio, was, lest he should discover that infirmity, and grow contemptible to his subjects. He died about the fifty-second year of his age, and suddenly; yet he made a will, and I have seen it, and, if it be true, he seemed to have some remorse for a tax which he had lately laid upon his subjects. Let Christian princes therefore consider what they do, since they have no reasonable power to raise money, without the permission and consent of their people.

Thus have you seen the death of many illustrious persons in a short time, who had borne so much sorrow, and endured so many fatigues, only to extend their dominions, and advance their fame and glory, as perhaps tended not only to the shortening of their lives, but to the endangering the welfare of their immortal souls. I am not speaking here of the Turk, for I question not but that he is gone to his predecessors, but of our king and the rest, on whom I hope God will have mercy. But to speak freely (as one that is no great scholar or genius, but has had some experience in the world), would it not have been better for them, and for all other great princes and subjects whatever, to choose a middle course in all their desires; that is, not to be so solicitous and careful about temporal things, and have such vast and unreasonable designs in view; but to be more cautious of offending God, oppressing their subjects, and invading their neighbours, by so many cruel and unchristian ways, as I have mentioned before, and rather employ their time in tranquillity and innocent diversions? Their lives would be longer, their infirmities the later in coming, their deaths less desirable to other people, and less terrible to themselves. Can we desire any clearer examples to prove how poor and inconsiderable a creature man is, how short and miserable his life, and how little difference there is betwixt princes and private persons, since as soon as they are dead, whether rich or poor, their bodies become abominable, all people fly and shun them, and their souls are no sooner separated but they prepare to receive their doom, which is given by God at that very instant of time, according to every man’s works, and bodily deserts.