The true prophecies or prognostications of Michael Nostradamus, physician to Henry II. Francis II. and Charles IX. Kings of France, and one of the best astronomers that ever were. / A work full of curiosity and learning. Translated and commented by Theophilus de Garencieres, Doctor in Physick Colleg. Lond.

by Nostradamus

VI.

French.

Quand de Robin la traistreuse entreprise,

Mettra Seigneurs & en peine un grand Prince,

Sceu par la Fin, chef on luy tranchera,

La Plume au vent, amye dans Espagne,

Poste attrapé estant en la Campagne,

Et l’Escrivain dans l’eau se jettera.

English.

When the treacherous plot of Robin,

Shall put many Lords and a great Prince in trouble,

Being known by la Fin, his head shall be cut off,

The Feather in the Wind, friend to Spain,

Post overtaken in the Countrey,

And the Scrivener shall cast himself into the Water.

ANNOT.

Two notable Histories are contained in this Stanza, the first is of the Marshal of Biron; the second is of Nicolas, High Secretary to the Lord Villeroy, who himself was chief Secretary of State to Henry the IV. and because they are curious ones, and not to be met every where, we shall set them down:

The first four Verses are concerning the Duke of Biron, who by transposition of letters is called here Robin; this man by his Military Valour and experience, had from a private Gentleman ascended to the highest degrees of honour and preferment, that his condition was capable of, for though he were not forty years old, he had attained unto the greatest dignities of the Kingdom; being fourteen years old, he was made Colonel of the Switzers in Flanders; a little while after he was made Marshal of Camp, and after Marshal General: he was admitted Admiral of France in the Parliament of Tours, and then Mareshal of France in that of Paris; at the Siege of Amiens he was sole Lieutenant of his Majesty, though there were many Princes of the Blood in the Army, and to compleat his greatness, he was made Peer of France, and the Barony of Biron erected into a Dukedom, not contented with all that, he said, he would not go to the retaking of the rest of the Towns in Picardy, unless his Statue were erected in Brass before the Louvre; and in conclusion, that he had rather die upon a Scaffold, undertaking some great matters, then to live idle in his own House, and always among these Bravadoes, he did mix some bold and dangerous words, which he would have every body to approve of.

When he saw that after the Siege of Amiens the War was at an end, that Britany was reduced, and that all the Swords were sheathed for a good while, he thought that having no more occasion to exercise his valour, he should grow out of credit, and that he should have no more that power, by which he plaised the King and do without fear all what he did without Justice. The fire of that great courage finding no work without, began to work within, that burning desire of being always the first, did fill his head with flames and smoak of a great design, he complained of the King, and of the unequal reward of his deserts and services, did publish his discontents, adding threatnings to his complaints, and spoke of the King with little respect, that his most intimate friends did judge his words insolent and dangerous.

It is true it was the vice of his nature, but there were also some of Fortune, for finding himself filled with all the prosperities, that a moderate man might wish for in his condition, he found that men loose themselves by too much happiness. He began then to lend his Ears unto flatterers, and when they told him that he was the greatest Captain in France, he answered that he would die upon a scaffold, or he would go beyond the condition of a single Gentleman, that the goodness of his sword should give him what Fortune had denied; and the Astrologers to whom he gave great credit, had foretold him in ambiguous terms, that nothing could hinder him from being a Sovereign, but the blow of a sword given by a Burgundian, and though all his life time he had shewed but little Devotion and Zeal to Religion, yet from that time that he prepared his soul to the motion of his ambition, he fained himself very devout and zealous, and began to wear Beads, that the Baron of Lux had given him in a Tennis-Court, and to declare himself an irreconcilsable enemy to the Protestants, seeking every where some discontented Spirits, whom he did encourage with the hopes of a profitable change.

La Nocle Lord of la Fin was then for the troubles of Provence, and for the quarrel he had with l’Esdigvieres, retired into his House, threatened of ill usage by the King, enemy to some great ones, loaded with debts and Sutes in Law. The discontented meet always, either by design or by chance. The Duke of Biron who knew that he had been deeply engaged in the business of the late Duke of Alecon, that he had Negotiated with the Ministers of the King of Spain, and of the Duke of Savoy, during the Siege of Amiens, that he was full of discontents, thought that such a one was seeking for a Master. They spoke together and mixed their grievances, propounding to seek out of the Kingdom what they could not find within, and to contract an intelligence with the Duke of Savoy; thus after so many examples of unavoidable dangers, the Duke of Biron did venture upon a Journey full of Rocks and Shelves, under the conduct of one who was yet wet with the Shipwrack he had lately made.

The Duke went into Flanders, for the execution of the Treaty of Vervins, where one Picoté of Orleans spoke to him, and inspired into him strange desires of raising his Fortune, with those that knew and admired his defects. The Duke of Biron did hearken to him, and told him he would be glad to hear him some other time upon that subject. From that time forwards the Spaniards thought themselves sure of him, and grew confident, either to have him, or to destroy him: a French Gentleman, who because of the Civil Wars was retired into Flanders, and had some imployment in the Arch-Dukes Court, gave the first intelligence of it to the King, who took it kindly, but sent him word, that the Duke of Biron had too much courage and honesty to harbour such a wickedness; being come back again from Flanders the King wished him to Marry, but he shewed that his inclinations tended to some other party, then that which was offered unto him, and though he made shew to court the Daughter of my Lady Lucé, he nevertheless intended to have the natural Sister of the Duke of Savoy, of which the Knight Breton had spoken to him. La Fin had in charge from the Duke of Biron, to do all what he could for his satisfaction. Picoté had made a Journey into Spain, only to know and receive the propositions. Farges a Monk of the Order of Fisteaux, went into Savoy, and from thence to Milan to receive Orders how to pluck of this Plant out of France. Things went very slowly; for the Spaniards do not easily believe the words of the French, unless they be with great effects of rebellion and change; but the Duke of Savoy being at Paris, did wholly put out the Flower de Luces he had in his Heart, and did dispose him to disturb the King so much at home, that he should have but little time to dispute him the Markdom of Suluces, upon that hope the Duke of Savoy neglected the Execution of the treaty of Peace made at Paris, the War was proclaimed, and the Duke of Biron took the chief places in Bresse. Being at Pierre Chastet in the beginning of September, La Fin came to him, and by his order made two Journeys to St. Claude, where Roncas was. The King had notice of it, but thought it better to dissemble it than to surprise a man he loved in his infidelity, he thought enough to bid him come into Savoy, and to rid himself of La Fin. He did believe that what the King said to him out of his affection, proceeded from fear, and kept company still with La Fin, and never went to see the King, but with great many attendants, refusing to take his lodging near his, that he might have more liberty; he perswaded the King being at Annessy, that he did desire to discover some passages, and therefore desired to have some guides of the Countrey, but it was to send safely Renazé, La Fin’s Secretary to the Duke of Savoy, to give him intelligence in what state the Kings Army was, and to bid d’Albigny retreat, who otherwise had been defeated. This was about the time that the Duke of Biron did intreat the King to bestow the Government of the Citadel of Bourg on him, whom he should name. It is the Nature of the great ones that serve Princes to believe they deserve all, and to become more dangerous than Enemies if they are refused what they ask for. The King did declare, that he would bestow the place upon de Boisses. This denial did so trouble the mind of the Duke of Biron, and put him upon such a strange and diabolical resolutions, that he resolved one Morning, being yet in his Bed at Chamont, to kill the King, as it is expressed in the depositions of La Fin and Renazé, but this took no effect, himself afterwards did abhor the thought of it. La Fin also went from the Army to conclude the Bargain with the Duke of Savoy, and the Earl of Fuentes, he treated first with the Duke of the Spanish Embassador at Yurée, afterwards at Thurin with Roncas, where also came Picoté, bringing the answers of the Councel of Spain, upon the propositions of the Duke of Biron, with order to confer with La Fin, and to perswade him to make a Journey into Spain. He said plainly, that the King of Spain was resolved to have the Duke of Biron at any rate. The Duke of Savoy and the Earl of Fuentes appointed a day to be at Some with La Fin and Picoté; there the minds of every one were clearly expressed and understood.

La Fin, who was acquainted with all his secret Councels, told the King, that the Marriage of the third Daughter of the Duke of Savoy, was the fodder and cement of all the treaty, with a promise of five hundred thousand Crowns, and all the rights of Soveraignty in Burgundy.

While La Fin treated in Italy the capitulation of the Duke of Biron, the treaty of Peace was concluded at Lyons.

The Duke of Biron had been always against this Peace; when he saw that it was concluded, and that the King had heard something of his dealings with La Fin, he fained to be very penitent of it, and asked the King forgiveness in the Cloister of the Franciscan Friers at Lyons, and intreated him most humbly to forgive the evil intentions that the denial of the Citadel of Bourg had put into his mind. The King did forgive him, and told him, that he was glad he had trusted to his clemency, and in the affection he bore to him, of which he would always give him such tokens, that he should never have occasion to doubt of it. Leaving the King, he met with the Duke of Espernon, and told him, that he would impart unto him as unto his best friend, the best fortune that ever he had in his life, which was, that he had discharged his Conscience to the King, and that he had forgiven him all what was past. The Duke of Espernon told him, that he was glad of it, but that it was necessary he should have his pardon in writing; for such faults could not be so easily blotted out. What, said he, upon what can I rely better than upon the Kings word; if the Duke of Biron wanteth an abolition, what shall others do? So they parted, one thinking that his Lyons Courage ought not to be used so meanly; the other wiser, remembring that a Lyon is never so well tamed, but one time or another he will prove still a Lyon, and at last biteth the hand of him that hath wronged him so fiercely, that he is for ever avenged of him. The Duke of Espernon had reason to advise him to take an abolition in writing, and the Duke of Biron was not too blame to trust to the Kings Word, who certainly would have forgiven that fault, if he had done nothing since to renew the Memory of it. But here is once more to be observed a passage that containeth all the signs of an implacable Spirit. The Duke of Biron being sent for by the King to receive his commands, and the effects of his clemency, went from Bourg, and came to lie at Vimy. From thence he wrote a Letter to La Fin that was at Milan, and then went to Lyons, where he was received by the King as the prodigal Son, he stayed some time at Lyons, and went to Vimy again, from whence he wrote another Letter to La Fin by Farges. As soon as he came to Bourg, he sent to Bosco, cousin of Roncas to advance the business. This negotiation did continue at Some between the Duke of Savoy, the Earl of Fuentes, and La Fin. The Earl of Fuentes carryed La Fin to Milan, and being desirous to be better informed, upon some points, and finding La Fin not so firm in his answers, he thought it not good to trust him wholly with the secret, and resolved to rid himself of him, therefore he sent him back, and intreated him to see the Duke of Savoy in his way. He had the good fortune to go by the way of the Grisons, and so through Basle, Porentru, and Besancon, for Renazé his Secretary, that went through Savoy, was there Arrested and made Prisoner. The work nevertheless went on; Alphonsus, Casal, and Roncas, did continue it with the Baron of Lux, and in the mean time the Duke of Biron plaid his part, having sent an express into Spain, though he were then with the King, who loth to loose him, kept him near, carryed him to see the Frontier Towns, and sent him Embassador into England, where he saw the head of the Earl of Essex, a late example of justice upon those who will be feared by their Masters, and abuse their favour. At his return he made a Journey into Gascony, where he was visited and honoured by the Nobility of the Countrey, as a Prince; and being come to Dijon, he went into Switzerland, to make an end of the renewing of the Alliance between the King and the Switzers, where he continued still his practises with the Earl of Fuentes, to whom he sent his secretary, under pretence to send his Pages into the Garrisons of Palma, for the Venetians. Being come back from Switzerland, he came not to the King to give an account of his negotiation, excusing himself upon the convocation of the Estates in the Province. The King, that had some notice of these broils by Combelles, was infinitely desirous to speak with La Fin to know the truth of it. La Fin, who was highly incensed, that the Baron of Lux would have all the fruit of this negotiation, and that Renazée is kept Prisoner in Savoy, sent Cerezat to the Duke of Biron to let him know that he could be no longer his Servant, if his Secretary was not set at liberty, and that he could no longer defer to go to the King, desiring also to know what he should say upon the things that were past. He slighted the first of these propositions, and spoke of Renazée as of one that was not to be reckoned among the living; concerning the other, he told Cerezat that he was of opinion he might go to the Court with a small train, and that he should prepare himself at the first to receive ill language and contempt from the King, which he should sweeten by intreating him to believe, that the Journey he had made into Italy had no other design than to visit our Lady of Loretta: And that passing through Milan and Thurin he had been chared to propound the Marriage between him and the third Daughter of Savoy, to which he would not hearken, because the King would take care to provide for him. He did intreat and adjure Cerezat to tell La Fin, that he should rid himself of all those that travailed with him, and chiefly of a Curate, and that he should secure his Papers, if he had not rather to burn them. In a word, to consider, his life, his fortune, his honour, were in his Hands.

La Fin came to Court at the end of Lent, and saw the King at the Wine-press of Fountainbleau, and after that at the mid way. He spake first to the King, after to Villeroy, and after to the Chancellor in his house at Fontainbleau, and with Rhosny in the Forrest, and with Sillery in the Wine-press; all with horror saw the writings, and heard his designs. The King could hardly believe such a wickedness; for who could have believed that he, who had driven the Spaniard from the Frontiers of Picardy, would let him in again by that of Burgundy? that he who had a hundred times beaten and defeated them, could contract a friendship with them, and conspire with them against the service of his Prince, and the love of his Countrey? that he who hated them to death, would have trusted his life in their Hands? He had shewed himself so much their Enemy, that seeing his Father would not charge the Prince of Parma in an advantagious place, said aloud, that if he were King for 24 hours, he would cause the head of the Marshall of Biron to be cut off. He pronounced against his Father the Sentence that was to be executed once upon him.

La Fin shewed the King so many true and undeniable tokens of this conspiracy, that he was fained to believe more that he desired. He told him all what did pass in his Journeys to the Duke of Savoy, and the Earl of Fuentes concerning the Duke of Biron, saying, that for his part he would have been glad that the War had continued, that he might have benifitted himself therein; but finding that his sacred person was not excepted, and that there were cruel designs made against it, either to kill him, or to carry him prisoner into Spain, he was resolved to give him notice of it, choosing rather to disoblige the Servant than the Master. The King full of clemency and goodness, was extreamly sorry to see such an unnatural conspiracy: Nevertheless he said, that if the Conspirators did their duty, and gave him means to prevent the designs of his Enemies, he would forgive them. If they remember what they owe me, I will not forget what I owe them; they shall find me as full of clemency, as they are void of affection: I would not have the Duke of Biron to be the first example of my Justice, and to be the cause that my Reign, which hitherto hath been like an Air, calm and pure, should upon a sudden be disturbed with Clouds and Lightning, and so made a resolution, that if the Duke of Biron should tell him the truth, he would forgive him, his Councel was of the same advice, provided he would shew himself thenceforth as forward for his service against his Enemies, as he had been earnest to do mischief.

Out of many Papers that la Fin put into the Kings hands, there were seven and twenty pickt out, which onely spoke of him; the King being unwilling to discover the rest of the Conspirators, and intending that the punishment of one should serve for example to all the rest.

The Chancellor kept those Papers with such care, that he caused them to be sowed in his Doublet, that no body might have a sight of them till it was time. The Baron of Lux was yet at Fountainbleau, when la Fin came thither.

The King told him that he was very well pleased, that la Fin had spoken to him so honourably and wisely of the Duke of Biron, and that he was confident now, that the intentions of the Duke of Biron were righteous and sincere. The Baron of Lux did not perceive the Kings anger, so much the more dangerous that it was hidden; he went back again to Dijon very well pleased, that the things were always in the same state. La Fin did write to the Duke of Biron that he had satisfied the King concerning his actions, and had told him onely what might serve for his justification. The King did manage this business so prudently, that the success of it was fortunate, he was well informed of all the Dukes designs, and desired to hear them out of his own mouth, that he might have occasion to forgive him, for that purpose he sent to him the Lord d’Escures, bidding him to come, because he had a mind to trust him with the Army that he was raising upon the Frontiers, he excused himself, and said that the enemy being so near, it would be a shame to him to turn his back, and that the States of the Province were convented at Dijon, and therefore could not forsake neither the Frontiers nor the States. The Vidame of Chartres made a Journey to him, and assured him that his Uncle la Fin had said nothing to his prejudice.

The persuasions of the President Janin were more powerful for flattering the Duke in his humour, he also made him sensible of the Kings power and anger in case of refusal; his friends gave him contrary advices, and desired him not to stir, and to make his peace afar off; the Bastille is a repairing said they, and the common talk is, that it is for such one as less thinketh upon it: the King hath been heard say, that they cut heads in England, and that some shall compel him upon that example to change his wonted Clemency into a just severity: in conclusion, they advise him to mistrust all things, and to beware of those that persuaded him to come; others did assure him of the contrary, and that his coming should dissipate all mistrusts, suspicions and jealousies.

The Duke of Biron holdeth here the Wolf by the ears, for let him come or not, there is danger; by not coming he accuseth himself, and the King swore he would fetch him himself; and in coming, his conscience was a witness against him, that the same fault can hardly be forgiven twice. He seeth la Fin retired into his House and living in peace, and hath so good an opinion of his own Valour, that he thinketh no body so bold as to seize upon him. The discourses of reason, the discerning of the truth, serve no more to a wicked and passionate man, then the Wings serve to a Bird, when they are clogged with Bird-lime. But now we talk of Birds, there were several ill Omens of his journey, one Bird of Prey called a Duck was found in his Closet, no body knowing which way it was come in; he commanded it to be carefully kept and lookt to, but as soon as the Duke was upon his journey the Bird died. Presently after the Horse that the Arch-Duke had given him, called the Pastrave, became mad, and killed himself, so did another that was given him by the Duke of Florence, another that the Duke of Lorrain had given him, fell into a consumption. He came to Fountainbleau when he was no more expected, and the King was resolved to get on Horseback and to fetch him. As his Majesty went about six of the Clock into the great Garden, he was heard to say unto the Lord of Souvray, he will not come, he had no sooner ended the words, but the Duke appeared among seven or eight, he drew near, and being yet a pretty way off, he made three great Congies, the King did embrace him, and the first words he spoke to the King, were about the delaying of his coming. The King heard but few words of it, and took him by the hand to walk, and to shew him his buildings; as he passed from one Garden into another, the Duke of Espernon took occasion to salute him, and to whisper him in the ear, that in his coming he had believed his courage more, then the Councel of his friends.

In all the discourse he had with the King, there was observed a great coldness in the Kings face, and a great deal of fire in the Dukes words. The King told him of the evil way which he had taken, the end of which could be nothing but ruine, despair and confusion. The Duke answered that he was not come to ask forgiveness, not to justifie himself, with many other frivolous and impudent words, which the Kings presence and his own duty ought to have restrained. The time of dinner being come, he asked the Duke of Espernon to dine with him, because his Train was not yet come; this was the first fault of his carriage, for he ought to dine at the Table of the great Master, and to harbour in no other House then that of the King, seeing his own was not open.

After dinner they came to see the King, who having walked one turn or two about the dinning-room, entered into his Closet, bidding two or three to go in with him, and saying nothing to the Duke of Biron, who was at the corner of the Bed near the Chair, taking notice that he was not looked upon as formerly.

The Marquess of Rhosny went into the Closet, passing by the Duke of Biron without taking notice of him, and after he had stayed there about half an hour, he came and saluted the Duke of Biron, and told him the King asked for him; there he was exhorted not to conceal what time would ere long discover, and of what he was so well informed, that the desire he had to know it from himself, was meerly because no body else should take notice of it. The Duke of Biron who thought that la Fin had revealed nothing, stood still upon the protestations of his own innocency, beseeching the King to do him justice, of those who went about to oppress him with unsufferable calumnies, or to permit him to do himself reason. The King carried him to the Tennis-court, where the Duke took upon him to order the match, and said that the Duke of Espernon and himself would hold it against the King and the Earl of Soisson, the Duke of Espernon answered presently: you play well, but you do not make your matches well; which was observed by the King and the standers by. Supper time being come, he did sup at the Table of the great Master, to repare the fault he had done in the morning. Every one did perceive that he was not contented, for he eat little or nothing, and no body spoke to him, every one holding him already for a cast-away. The King in the mean while was walking in his Chamber, meditating some great resolution, and he was heard to say these words, he must either bow or break.

That evening past away so quietly, that many thought it would be a Thunder with much noise and little hurt. The King commanded the Earl of Soissons to go to the Duke of Biron, and to do his best to break the hardness of his heart, and to draw the truth out of him; he went and intreated him to satisfie the King in what he desired to know from him, and to be afraid of the Kings displeasure and indignation. The Duke of Biron for answer told him, that the King could not complain but of the good services he had done to him, and that he himself had great occasion to complain of the King who mistrusted him after so many trials and experiments of his faithfulness, and that he should never have more of him then he had at his first coming; the Earl of Soissons, seeing his obstinacy, left him.

The next day early the King walking in the little Garden, sent for the Duke of Biron, and spoke to him a great while, thinking to overcome his obstinacy, and to give him means to escape the danger he was running into; he was seen a great while with his Hat off, his eyes lifted up to Heaven, smiting his breast, and making great protestations to uphold his innocency; there appeared then in the Kings face a great deal of anger, and in that of the Duke of Biron a great deal of fire and violence, all his words were nothing but threatnings, lightnings, ruines, and Hell against those that had spoken ill of him; from thence he went to dinner, and met with a man who brought him a Letter, to advise him to look to himself, he shewed it to the Captain of his Guards, and made slight of it, and said, he would be beholding to his valor for his life, and not to a flight; all the afternoon the King stayed in the Gallery, and spoke four hours to the Lord of la Curée, the Queen being present and speaking never a word; the King was in a great perplexity of mind, before he could resolve himself. The Lords of Vileroy, Sillery and Geure were seen often to go to and fro, which made some suspect, that it was to begin by the execution in so great a crime; but the King was against that, such proceedings had been blamed in his Predecessor, he would have every body to know that he had authority and power enough to exterminate his enemies, according to the Laws.

The resolution was taken to have him arrested, and also the Earl of Auvergne, the King would not have them to be taken in the Castle, but in their own Lodgings; the Duke of Biron, who was in some suspicion of it, and had prepared himself to what he could, neither prevent nor hinder, did imagine that there was no fear of any thing in the Kings Chamber, and that all the danger should be at the going out, and therefore by time had provided himself with a short Sword, with which he promised to make himself room through all dangers. They represented to the King, that if he were Arrested any where but in the Castle, it could not be done without bloodshed, and that it was no matter where the Lyon was taken, so that profit might arise of his prize.

It was perceived that in the same Gallery the King sent for Vitry and Pralin, two Captains of his Guards, and gave them the order he would have to be observed for the execution of his commands, and then called for his Supper. The Duke of Biron was at supper in the Lord Montignys Lodging, where he spoke more highly and bravely then ever of his Deserts, and of the friends he had made lately in Switzerland; then began to fall upon the praises of the late King of Spain, extolling his Piety, Justice and liberality; Montigny stopt him, saying, that the greatest commendation that could be given to his memory, was, that he had put his own Son to death, for endeavouring to trouble his Estate; this word stopt those of the Duke of Biron, who answered only with his eyes, and thought upon it with some amazement. After supper the Earl of Auvergne and the Duke of Biron came to the King, who was walking in the Garden, the King making an end of his walk did invite the Duke of Biron to play at Cards, they went into the Queens Cnamber, the Earl of Auvergne passing by the Duke of Biron told him softly, we are undone; the Game begun at the primara, the Queen was one of the Gamsters, the Duke of Biron another, and two more. The King went into his Closet, divided between two contrary passions; the love he had formerly for the Duke of Biron, the knowledge he had of his valour, and the remembrance of his services, excluded all thoughts of his Justice; on the other side, the fear of troubles in his Estate, the horrid effects of so unnatural a conspiracy did accuse his Clemency of cruelty, if he went about to prefer the particular good to the publick, he prayed to God to assist him with his Holy Spirit, to appease the troubles of his soul, and to strengthen him with a Holy resolution, that he might do what was for the good of his people, upon whom he Reigned by his only Grace; his prayer being ended, all the difficulties that troubled his soul vanished away, there remained only a firm resolution, to put the Duke into the hands of Justice, if he could not draw the truth out of him; the Game went on still, the King took sometimes the Queens Cards, expecting the appointed time. The Earl of Auvergne was gone to his Lodging, the King sent for him, and walked in the Chamber, while the Duke thought upon nothing but his play. De Varennes Lieutenant of his Troop faining to take up his Cloak, whispered him softly that he was undone; this word did trouble him so much, that he neglected his play, and oversaw himself, the Queen gave him notice of it; the King did bid them to give over playing, and commanded every one to retire, he went into his Closet, and took the Dake of Biron with him, whose good and bad fortune depended from an answer pleasing his Majesty, who bid him once for all to tell what he had done with the Duke of Savoy and the Earl of Fuentes, assuring him, that his clemency should be greater than his fault. The Duke of Biron answered the King more proudly than ever, that it was to press an honest man too much, that he never had any other design, but what he had told him already. Would to God it were so, said the King. You will not tell me: Farewell, good night.

As he went out of the Closet, and had passed the Chamber door, he met Vitry, who with his right hand seized upon the Hilt of his Sword, and with his left upon his right Arm, saying, The King hath commanded me to give him an account of your Person, give up your Sword. You jeer, said the Duke. No my Lord, he hath so commanded me. The Duke of Biron answered, I pray thee let me speak to the King. No my Lord, the King is gone to Bed. He saw the Duke of Monbazon, and desired him to intreat the King, that he might surrender it into his own Hands. The King sent word to Vitry to obey his commands. The Duke was fained to suffer his Sword to be taken from him; saying, My Sword that hath done so many good services! Yes my Lord, give me your Sword, said Vitry. To me, said the Duke, that have served the King so well, that my Sword should be taken from me, my Sword that hath made an end of the War, and given Peace to France, that my Sword, which could not be taken by my Enemies, should be taken away by my Friends. All these complaints availed nothing; he ungirted his Sword with his left hand, and gave it to Vitry, looking about if he could seize upon any other, but care was taken for that.

When he saw all the Guards in order in the Gallery, he thought he should have been Massacred upon the place, and cryed to them, fellow Souldiers give me a little time to pray to God, and let me have some Firebrand or Candlestick in my hand, that I may have the Honour to die defending my self. He was answered, that no Body would offend him, that his best defence was to obey the King, who commanded to lead him to Bed, you see said he, how the good Catholicks are used. He was carryed into the Arms Closet, where he neither slept nor lay down, but past the night in blasphemies against God, and reviling words against the King.

Pralin was staying for the Earl of Auvergne at the Castle Gate, and when he offered to go out to his lodging; stay my Lord, you are the Kings Prisoner. The Earl astonished, answered I, I? and Pralin answered, yes my Lord, you, I Arrest you by the King, and make you his Prisoner, give up your Sword, take it said the Earl it never killed any thing but Boars, if you had given me notice of this, I should have been in Bed and asleep two hours ago.

The next day about dinner time the Duke of Biron sent word to the King, that if he did not take care of the Province of Burgundy, it would be lost, because the Baron of Lux would let in the Spaniards as soon as he should have notice of his detention. The King was very much offended at this message, and said, see the impudence and boldness of the Duke of Biron, who sendeth me word that Burgundy is lost, if I do not look to it. His obstinacy hath undone him, if he would have confessed the truth of a thing that I have under his hand, he should not be where he is. I wish I had paid 200000. Crowns, and he had given me the means to forgive him. I never loved any man so much, I would have trusted him with my Son and my Kingdom. ’Tis true, he hath served me well, but he cannot deny but that I have saved his life three times; I rescued him once from the hands of the Enemy at Fontain Francoise, so wounded and astonished with blows, that as I plaid the part of a Souldier to save him, I was also fained to make that of a Captain to make the retreat; for he told me he was not in a case to do it.

The Saturday next the prisoners were carryed to Paris by water, and put into the Bastille in several Chambers. The Duke of Biron was put into that, called of the Saints famous, for the Prison of the Constable of Saint Paul, executed in the time of Lewis the XI. and the Earl in the Chamber above him.

The care, the order and vigilancy, with which he was guarded, did put him in some amazement; for his Guards waited on him without Arms, and served him with a Knife without a point, which made him say, that it was the way to the Grave (the place of Execution.) But when he knew that the Hangman of Paris was a Burgundian, he remembred that La Brosse an Astrologer had foretold him sometimes, seeing his Horoscope, which he fained to be that of one of his friends, that he should be beheaded, and Cæsar a Magician, that a blow of a Burgundian given behind; should hinder him to attain the Kingdom.

The Arch-Bishop of Bourges went to see him, and endeavoured to settle his Conscience, and to disswade him from some Atheistical opinions that he had: Villeroy and Sillery went also to see him, and by the Kings Command, and at his request.

Few days after, the King being at St. Mourder, Fossez, the Lords la Force, the Earl of Roussy, Brother in Law to the Duke of Biron, Saint Blancard his Brother, Chasteau-neuf, Themines, Salignac, St. Angel, Longuac, Friends and Kinsmen of the Duke of Biron, went and cast themselves at the Kings feet, to implore his Mercy, and that he would be pleased to moderate the severity of his Justice, requesting that the same clemency which he had shewed to many others that had as grievously offended him, would at least save his life, and confine him into such a place, where he might do no harm, that their whole Kindred might not be branded with Infamy, and have a regard to his Fathers service and his, which though they were not equal to his offence, yet at least to consider, that he was only guilty for his intention.

The King bid them rise, and told them, that their requests were not displeasing to him. That he would not be like his Predecessors, who would not suffer any body to intercede for those that were guilty of high Treason. The King Francis II. would never give a hearing to the Wife of the Prince of Condé my Uncle. Concerning the clemency you would have me shew to the Duke of Biron; it should not be clemency but cruelty, if it were only my particular Interest, I would forgive him, as I do now with all my heart; but my Kingdom and my Children, to whom I owe much, are concerned in it; or they might reproach me hence forwards, that I have tollerated an evil which I might have prevented; my Life, that of my Children, and the preservation of my Kingdom, are concerned in it. I will leave it to the course of Justice, you shall see what Judgement shall be given: I will contribute what I can to his Innocency, I give you leave to do the same till he be found guilty of high Treason; for then the Father cannot intercede for the Son, nor the Son for the Father; the Wife for the Husband, nor the Brother for the Brother. Do not become odious to me for the love you bear him: As for the note of Infamy, there is none but himself. Have the Constable of St. Paul, from whom I derive my Pedigree, and the Duke of Nemours, of who I am Heir (both beheaded) left any note of Infamy upon their Posterity, should not the Prince of Condé my Uncle have been beheaded the next day, if King Francis the II. had not dyed? Therefore ye that are Kinsmen to the Duke of Biron, cannot be noted with Infamy, if you continue in your faithfulness, as (I assure my self) you will. And I am so far from depriving you of your Offices, that if any new one should fall, I would bestow them upon you: I am more sorry for his fault than you can be; but to conspire against me that am his King and Benefactor, is a crime that I cannot forgive, without losing my self, my Wife, my Son, and my Estate, I know you to be so good French men, that you would not have the last, and shall take Patience for the first. Thus the King dismissed him, and sent his Commission to the Court of Parliament, to decide the business. The Process was framed in the Bastille, by the Lords of Achilles de Harlay, first President in the Court of Parliament of Paris, Nicolas Potier second President, Stephen Fleury, and Philibert of Thurin, Councellors in the same Court. They asked him if he did not write in Cyphers, he denyed it, then were shewed unto him several Letters, written and sealed with his own hand, which did witness his Intelligences with the Spaniard and the Duke of Savoy, and contained advices that he gave of the wants that were in the Kings Army; How little Money he had to maintain the War, and to satisfie the Suitzers of the discontent of the French Nobility, and how several French Troops might easily be defeated, and that to divert the Kings forces it was necessary to invade Provence, and did much press upon the 50000. Crowns, and the 4000 men promised or else said, all is lost. Some of these things he confessed, and did so intangle and contradict himself, that the Commissioners had pity on his indiscretion.

He was asked what opinion he had of La Fin, he said he took him for an honest Gentleman, his Friend and Kinsman, his Evidences being read to him, and himself brought face to face, he did with the most horrid Imprecations and Blasphemies in the World deny them, and charged La Fin with the most horrid Crimes that can be Imagined, calling still God for a Witness of his Innocency; La Fin stood firm in the confirming of his Evidence, and did more particularly declare the whole conspiracy. The Duke answered, that if Renazé were there he would tell the contrary, Renazé, who had a little while before escaped his Prison in Piemont, was brought before him, and confirmed all what La Fin had said.

Next to that was brought one of the Kings waiting men, who witnessed, that having lyen in his Chamber by the Kings command, the first night of his Imprisonment he had adjured him, by several offers and promises of rewards, to give notice to his Secretaries to be out of the way for some days, and to tell the Earl of Roussy his Brother in Law, that he should send presently to Dijon, to give the same advice to those that were left there, and above all that if they were examined; they should all constantly deny that ever he did write in Cyphers.

Thus the business having been thorowly examined, it remained only to proceed unto Judgment; but the Prisoner being a Peer of France, (the King having erected the Barony of Biron into a Dukedom) by the Laws the Prisoner could not be judged, but by his Peers, which being summoned, and not appearing, the Court of Parliament being authorised by the Kings Commission, proceeded to Judgement.

The 23 of July 1602. the Chancellor, with the Maisses and Pontcarré, Privy Councellors, went to the Parliament, where all the Chambers were assembled together. There he made known the Kings intention, in a business, wherein the good of the Kingdom was so much concerned, and represented on one part the quality of a Person, commendable for his services; but on the other, the foulness of the Crime, for the Judgement of which the King did rely upon the integrity and prudence of the Court. The Kings Attorney, and Soliciter, having represented to the Court, that the Peers summoned, gave no appearance, and that the Prisoners petition (who asked for Councel), was not to be received. The Court proceeded to examine the Evidences, whereupon they sat three times, after which the Prisoner was brought from the Bastille, by Montigny Governour of Paris, and Vitry, Captain of the Kings Guards, in a close Barge, covered with Tapistry, and followed by two other Barges full of Souldiers, and Switzers. He entred into the Palace, through the Garden of the first President, and rested himself in one of the Chambers, where he was offered a Breakfast.

The time being come, he was to be heard, the Recorder went and called him into the Guild-hall, where when he saw one Hundred and twelve Judges before his face, he was some thing daunted, and was made to sit within the Bar upon a joint stool; where he sat in such a posture, as stretching forth his right foot, and having his Cloak under his arm, and his left hand upon his side, he kept the right one free, either to stretch it forth to Heaven, or to smite his brest, when occasion served. The Chancellor did so frame his discourse, that he never named him by his name, nor that of his qualities.

Of many evidences there was five chiefly urged against him.

The first to have been conversant with one Picotée, born in Orleans, and refugied in Flanders, to keep intelligence with the Arch-duke, and to have give him 150. Crowns for two journeys to that end.

The second to have treated with the Duke of Savoy, three days after his arrival to Paris without the Kings leave, and to have offered him all assistance and service against any person whatsoever, upon the hope or promiss of marrying his third daughter.

The third to have kept intelligence with the said Duke in taking of the City of Bourg and other places, giving him advice how he might defeat the Kings Army, and destroy his person, with many other circumstances to that purpose.

The fourth to have sent by Renazée a note to the Governour of the Fort of Saint Catherine, promising to bring the King before the said Fort, so near that he might be either killed or taken, telling what cloths he himself would wear, and what Horse he would ride, that he might be distinguished.

To have sent several times la Fin to treat with the Duke of Savoy, and the Earl of Fuentes against the Kings service.

These are the first confessions and acknowledgements that the Prisoner made before the Commissioners in the Bastille, but now he thinketh, he may as lightly deny them, as he had unadvisedly before confessed them.

Upon the first Article he answered, that Picoté being once his Prisoner, had offered his service for the reduction of the Town of Seurre in Burgundy, and that the King had approved of it, that it is true he had given him the said sum, but it was as a reward for his pains and charges in this negotiation, which sum he hath charged upon the Kings account, with some other small ones, laid out by him for the King; that since the reduction of the said Town he had not seen Picoté but in Flanders, when he went thither Embassadour for the confirmation of the Peace, where the said Picotée came to him with many others, intreating him he would be pleased to mediate with the King, for the liberty of returning into their Countrey, and enjoying their Estates, and that he did wish them to go to the Lords Belieure and Sillery, who would prescribe them what orders they were to follow in this business, and never had any other conversation with Picoté.

Upon the second, That he could not have treated with the Duke of Savoy three days after his arrival at Paris, seeing that himself did not come there but a fortnigh-after, and that la Fin came but after him, that all his discourses with him were in publick and before witnesses, and therefore could not be suspected; that Roncas had sometimes mentioned to him the Marriage of the third daughter of the Duke, and that he did impart it to the King; that his Majesty having sent him word by la Force his Brother in Law, that he did not approve of it, he never thought of it since; that the intelligence he is accused to have kept with the Duke of Savoy, is confuted enough by what he did, for when the King had commanded him to wait and keep company to the Duke in his return from France, and to shew him the strongest places upon the Frontiers of Burgundy, he did humbly excuse himself to the King of it, saying, that he foresaw well enough that the Duke would not keep the Treaty of Peace, and that it would be a great grief to him to make War against a Prince, with whom he should have kept company, and made good cheer; and that he did advise the Baron of Lux to let him see only the weaker places, that he might not know the strength of the Countrey.

Upon the third, That if he had kept correspondence with the Duke of Savoy, he would not have undertaken the taking of Bourg, almost against the Kings will, without any other help then of those that were ordinarily with him; that of fourty Convoys that were brought to relieve the Town, he had routed thirty seven, and the other three entered in his absence; that the King knoweth very well he was offered 200000. Crowns to let the succours enter into the Citadel of Bourg; that although his Majesty had commanded him in the time of a Truce made with the Duke of Savoy, to let those of the Citadel of Bourg have every day 400. Loafs of Bread, 50. bottles of Wine, half an Oxe, and six Sheep, he did only let them have fifty bottles of Wine and one Sheep, by which means the Town was surrendred within the time promised; that if he had had any evil design against the King and Kingdom, he would not so freely and willingly put the Town into the hands of him that is now Governour of it; that the Governours of Places that were in the Duke’s service, and are now in that of the King, can witness whether he shewed them any favour; that for his giving advice to the Duke to defeat the Regiment of Chambauld, he will prove that Chambauld did not come into the Army, but one Month after the time mentioned in his Calumny; besides that, this advice was without appearance of reason, for from Chambauld’s quarters to his, there was at least six days journey, and as much to go to the Duke, and as much to come back, besides the time required for the marching of the Forces; therefore all that was a meer invention of la Fin.

Upon the fourth, That he intreated his Majesty to call to memory, that he was the onely man who dissuaded him to go and view the Fort, representing unto him that there was in it extraordinary good Gunners, and that he could not view it without great danger, and upon that he offered the King to bring him the next day the Plat-form of it, and to take it with 500. Musquettiers, and that himself would be in the Head of them.

Upon the fifth, That it was true all the evil he had done was in two Months time that la Fin had been with him, during which, he did hearken and write more then he ought: but that with the same he had written, he had so long served the King, that it was enough to prove the sincerity of his intentions; that the refusal of the Citadel of Bourg, which he thought the King had promised him, had put him into such a discontent, that he found himself in a capacity to hearken to any thing, and to do any thing, that if he had been a Protestant, it may be the place should have been refused him no more then it was to de Boaisse, who was such an one, as he told the King himself at Lyon; that la Fin had also once told him, that the King speaking of him, and of his Father, said, that God had done well for to take him out of this world when he was killed, for he was a very chargeable and unprofitable servant; and for the Son, it was not all Gold that shined; that these words had so much incensed him, that he could have found in his heart to be all covered with blood. Upon that the Chancellor asked him of what blood he meaned? he answered, of my own: desiring not to live any longer, after he had heard such reproches, as blemished the services of his Father and his own; that nevertheless his anger and discontent went never so far, as to attempt upon the King; that his fault was only in words, and it may be little in Writting; that his Majesty seeing with how much ingenuity he did acknowledge his fault, had forgiven him all what was past, in the presence of the Lords Villeroy and Sillery, and that if since that time he was found to have done any thing amiss, he would blame his Judges of Injustice, if they did not condemn him to death, that if he had done nothing amiss since, he thought the Kings pardon to be sufficient for what was, and if there was need to ask for it again, his knees were as supple and plyable as ever.

But a Letter, which he had written to la Fin since the pardon of Lyon, and the Birth of the Dolphin, did spoil all, for it was a manifest evidence of the continuation of his ill designs, and the Chancellor having produced it, he answered, he would never deny his hand, but that Imbert and Renazée Domestick Servants to la Fin could counterfeit it; that though he might have some ill thoughts, he had always well done; that although the King would not forgive him this fault, it was not in the power of men to condemn him justly for single words, which were contradicted by the effects; that his consolation was in his misfortune, his Judges were not ignorant of the services he had done to the Kingdom, which he had Sealed with five and thirty wounds; that his body whose life and death was in the disposition of their Justice, had not a vain but had bleeded for their service, and to restore them into their places, from whence the League had driven them; that the hand which had written the Letters produced against him, was the same that had done contrary to what it did write; that he had written and spoke more then he ought, but that it could not be proved he had ever ill done; that there was no Law that punished with death the lightness of a single word or motion of the thoughts; that anger and discontent had made him capable of saying and doing any thing, but that his reason had not given leave to say or to do, ought but what deserveth to be commended; which words were as carefully considered, as he repeated them often with several Oaths and Imprecations.

Upon that the Chancellor having asked him why then he did not open himself more to the King, who desired him with great affection to do it at Fountain-bleau, seeing he knew in his conscience to have done nothing against his duty since his pardon. There he cut himself in his answer, and said he thought la Fin had revealed nothing of what was between them, and that he had lately assured him so with Oaths and fearful imprecations, that he would never have thought la Fin had been such a damnable man, as to reveal that which with so many deep Oaths and Imprecations they had promised to keep secret between themselves; that having propounded the question to a Monk of the Order of Minimes at Lyon, whether he might with a safe conscience reveal what was between them, and what he had promised with Oath to la Fin to keep secret, because he suspected that la Fin would deceive him, and tell all to the King, and so ruine him. The Minime had answered, that seeing they had no more intention to put in execution the things they had projected, he was not to reveal them, and if la Fin did it, he should go to Hell, and himself to Heaven; that he did so firmly believe this, that although the Archbishop of Bourges had visited him in Prison, and alledged many reasons to the contrary, yet his soul was so settled in that belief, that he thought it was only the part of an Atheist to swear with intention to deceive.

Upon this he begin to accuse la Fin of the most execrable crimes that a man is capable of, saying that he made use of Renazée for Sodomy that he was a Witch, and had ordinary communication with the Devils, that he had so be witched him with enchanted Waters and Wax Images, that spoke, that he was constrained to submit himself to all his will; that he never spoke to him but whispering, and in unknown words, and after he had kissed him in the left eye, and he could not deny but he had shewed him a Wax Image, speaking and saying, Rex impie morieris, thou shalt die ungodly King, and called him continually his Master, Lord, Prince and King; that he was a false Coiner, and had persuaded him many times to attempt upon the King, but that he would never hearken to it, that the quality of the Accusators was to be considered, who not only were partners, but instigators of the Fact; that certainly the Duke of Savoy was his mortal enemy, for having since his pardon left of all his intelligences with him, and seeing that after a long detention he had released Renazée, to come and to be a witness against him; that the King had forgiven him at Lyon and that upon his acknowledging many times to the King, that the refusal of the Citadel of Bourg had very much incensed him, his Majesty did comfort him with these words. Marshal never remember Bourg, and I will never remember what is past, that in 22 Months after he had not offended, that if he had continued his ill designs, he might have done it easily in England and Switzerland. That above 100. Gentlemen shall be Witnesses of his first Embassy, and for the second, he desireth no other Witnesses than the Kings Embassadors themselves, that if they would be pleased to consider how he was come, and in what case he had left the Province of Burgundy, it was impossible to have an ill opinion of his designs; for there was not one Souldier in all the Countrey, and at his going away he gave no other charge to the Commanders and Captains, than to serve the King faithfully, that every one disswaded him to come to Court, and in the way he received many Letters to that purpose, that he was come upon the Kings word, trusting upon his own Conscience and Innocency. If the King be not pleased to consider my services (said he to the Court) and those assurances he hath given me of his Mercy, I acknowledge my self guilty of Death, and do not expect my life from his Justice, but from yours, (my Lords) who will remember better than he what dangers I have undergone for his service. I confess I had a mind to do ill, but I never proceeded to effects: It would be a hard matter if I should be the first in whom thoughts should be punished; Great offences require great clemency. I do implore that of the King, and nevertheless I am the onely one in France, that is made an example of his severity, and that can have no hope in his clemency, which he never denyed to those that had done worse: However I trust more in you my Lords, than I do in the King, who having heretofore looked upon me with his Eyes of love, looketh upon me now with those of his anger, and thinketh it a Vertue to be cruel unto me, and a Vice to excercise upon me the act of clemency.

Thus pleaded the Prisoner, with so much eloquency and boldness, that if his Judges had not seen evidently the truth of the fact, under his own Hand and Seal, the respect of his first condition might have perswaded them to believe his Innocency, and to take compassion of his ruined fortune.

The Court did hear him as long as he would speak, with so much patience, that never a man had the like audience. The Prisoner spoke so much, that his last reasons were found contrary to his first, his allegations did not shew his Innocency; for the Embassadors themselves which he took for Witnesses of his carryage in Switzerland, did report many words of his, which shewed his anger and passion. Besides the King had not given his word, that he might come in Safety, and those Letters which he alleadged for his justification, did prove the continuation of his treacherous designs, seeing that he had sent la Fin and Hebert, to Turin and Milan, since the pardon, He could not then expect but Justice, in a case where neither passion nor favour could alter Judgment: Nevertheless he shewed himself much satisfied with his answers, and therefore being come back again to the Bastille, he passed the rest of that day, and the two next, to relate unto his Guards the questions of the Court and his answers therereunto, counterfeiting the gesture and the words which he Imagined the Chancellor had spoken after his going away, though that grave and venerable old man neither said nor did any thing, but what was becoming to his Age and quality, having shewed himself as full of compassion, as the prisoner was of his vanity; for when he was nearer to death he thought less upon it, and thinking himself the only man capable of commanding an Army, he found some fault in those that were thought capable of it, saying, that one was unhappy in his undertakings, the other was not respected by the Souldiers, such a one was a brave man, but he wanted experience, and another that hath both was a Protestant. To conclude, he did so please himself with his own praise and deserts, that he thought no body could come near him, and that he was so useful to the Kingdom, that it would be a great Crime to think to undo him.

He had spoken so long the 27 of the Month, that there was no time left to gather the Voices: The Chancellor therefore went into the Palace the 29 following to gather the Voices of the Judges. Fleury the reporter of the Proces, did conform his opinion to the conclusions of the Kings Attorney, all the rest agreed to it, either by Words or by Signs, and all the proofs necessary for the verification of a Crime meeting in this case, as his Answers, Confessions, Writings, Letters, Instructions, and Evidence of Witnesses not reproached; It was found, that the unnatural Conspiracy against the State, the detestable attempt upon the Kings Person, makes him guilty of high Treason in the first and second degree.

He confesseth he had evil intentions, it is enough, the Laws do punish the Councels, the resolutions, and the effects; for if the Traitor be not prevented, time may give him the opportunity to accomplish his Design and Will, and the Will of a Subject in point of State, doth depend immediately upon that of the Prince. He sayeth moreover, that without the Kings Mercy he is undone, and that if he would have put in Execution the ill designs that were propounded to him against his Majesty, he should have been gone long ago: Did he ever give notice of them to the King or to any body else. If the Prisoner had brought to pass his intent, we might have said, farewell State, farewell Justice, it is too late to believe the Conspiracy against Princes, when they are murdered by the Conspirators.

He hath well Served the King, it is true; but his Offices and Dignities did call him to that Duty, he hath had notable rewards for it, and from the time that he hath shewed himself so unfaithfull, he hath diminished the lustre of his deserts. His deserts had made him capable of the first dignities of the Kingdom, but the merit of them is vanished away, by the greatness of his Crime.

And what is the State beholding to him, if after he hath contributed so much for its restauration, he goeth about to turn up side down the Foundation of it, and to betray it to the Enemies. It is nothing to begin well unless you end well, the actions are judged by the end: Those that have deserved best of the States, are the most severely punished when they fall into Sedition and Rebellion. There is many sheets of Paper in the Hands of the Court, containing in them one hundred advices given to the Enemy, the least of which is capable to make him guilty.

The Prisoners quality is not considerable in this case; Justice is blind to all distinctions, and rather considereth the offence according to the quality of the offender; Crimes of high Treason are not considered by things past, but by things present and that are to come; we must not put in an account what he hath done, but what he had a mind to do. The quality of a Duke and Peer of France, of Knight of the Kings Order, of Marshal, doth not exempt him from the Law, and from being judged as an Enemy to the State, and to the Majesty of the Prince, seeing he would have troubled the State, and attempted upon the Kings person. Who in France besides is more obliged to the King? the greater then is the Obligation, the greater the ingratitude. God forbid that the respect of the quality should stop the course of Justice: a Limb must be cut off to save all the body.

But his offence hath been forgiven: The pardon cannot extend but to the things that are confessed; but he acknowledgeth himself that he hath not told all, therefore he hath confessed as little as he could, his own confessions Witness, he only asked forgiveness, that he might continue his Crimes with more security: Besides, he would not acknowledge his fault to the King, for all the King promised to forgive him, and lately he told the Court, he did not believe that la Fin had revealed what was secret between them; and thought he would have kept his word, which he had confirmed with so many Oaths, and that if he had doubted of it, he would have cast himself at his Majesties Feet as readily as he, and asked him forgiveness. It followeth then that there was some thing left behind that was not confessed: Thus he accuseth himself, thinking to excuse his fault; besides, he mistaketh himself thinking to persuade the Court, that since the pardon he hath done nothing amiss, for the Pardon was in January 1600. and here be Letters of September last, by which he recalleth la Fin, telleth him, he will think no more upon the Vanities that were past since, God was pleased to have given the King a Dolphin. It is apparent then that he hath employed la Fin at least since the Pardon, till the birth of the Dolphin, and la Fin maintaineth that there was a note quite to the contrary, and that they did continue their intelligences and practises unknown to the King. That the Duke did recal him, fearing he should discover the Conspiracy, when a man continues in his faults and abuseth his Pardon, the last fault payeth for all.

Besides, the Court hath not seen that Pardon, he oughted to have produced it in writing under the Kings Hand and Seal, and to forgive him once more, would put him into such a condition, as to contrive always Treasons against the State; the remedy of a present evil is not to be neglected upon the hope of an uncertain good; he is in a case to be no more useful; nothing can be expected from his courage but revenge; he that can bring no profit by his virtue and faithfulness, must do it by being made an exemple.

Such were for the most part the reasons of the Court, according to which, and to the conclusions of the Attorney General, the Chancellor did pronounce Sentence of death against the Prisoner; some were of opinion that la Fin should be arrested, as one that could not justifie himself, for having concealed such a damnable Conspiracy, till he saw that the Spanish affairs went to wrack. The Chancellor did moderate these opinions, representing that the Conspiracy was not yet wholly discovered, and that such things would hinder the rest of those that knew some thing of it to reveal it; that a man that saveth the Kings Person and his Estate, ought rather to be rewarded then punished. And in confirmation of this, the King sent Letters to la Fin, by which he assured him, that such a service done to him and his Kingdom, should never prove his ruine.

The Court stayed onely for the Kings intention upon the execution of the Sentence, which Sillery had carried to St. Germain. The Scaffold was ready to be set up in the place of Greve, but the execution might have proved dangerous, in the middle of so much people of different humors and tempers; and already there was a rumour, as if some body should throw him a Sword, with which he should make himself a passage, or else have died with a blow less shameful then that of the Hangman; upon his friends intreaty the execution was ordered to be done in the Bastille.

The next day about noon, the people knowing that the Sentence was past, went some to the Greve, thinking that the execution should be done there, others to St. Antony street, to see the Prisoner pass by; he saw from his Chamber that multitude, and guessed that he was to be the Spectacle of those Spectators; here the anguish of the Grave began to beset him, and drawing a consequence from the shadow of death, that the body was not far of; he sent Baranton a Scotish Gentleman to intreat the Marquess of Rhosny to come to see him, or if he could not come, to sue for his Pardon to the King. He sent him answer, he could do neither, and that he was extreamly sorry for his misfortune, that if he had believed him at his coming to Court, he should have confessed what the King did desire to know of him, for by concealing of it, he did hinder the King to give him his life, and all his friends to sue for it.

The next day last of July 1602. the Chancellor, the first President, Sillery, three Masters of Requests, some Officers of the Chancery, Rapin Lieutenant of the short Gown, his Lieutenant, Daniel Voisin Register of the Court of Parliament, six Sergeants, and seven or eight more went to the Bastille, about ten of the Clock in the morning, as soon as they were come in the Chancellor commanded that the Prisoners Dinner should be carryed, without giving him notice of his coming, and in the mean time he and the first President made a List of those whom they would have to be present in that action: Some Presidents, three Masters of Requests, three Auditors, six Serjeants of the Parliament, the Lieutenant Civil, the Kings Attorney at the Chastelet, Rapin and his Lieutenant, the Knight of the Watch, the Prevost of the Merchants, four Aldermen, four Councellors of the City, and some few others, to the number of fifty.

About noon the Prisoner looking through the Grates of his Chamber Windows, perceived the Wife of Rumigny, Captain of the Castle, weeping with her hands up and guessed that those Tears were drawn by the compassion of his Fortune. He was confirmed in his opinion, when he saw the Chancellor followed by the Serjeants, Rapin and his Lieutenant, and some others go through the Bastilles Yard into the Chappel, then he began to cry aloud, O my God I am a dead man, ah, what injustice it is to put an Innocent Person to death, thereupon he intreated Rumigny to tell his Brothers, Sisters and Kindred, that they should not be ashamed of his death, because he was Innocent of that he was accused.

The Chancellor commanded he should be brought down into the Chappel, where as soon as he saw the Chancellor, are you come, said he, to pronounce me my death: The Chancellor saluted him, then put on his Hat, the Prisoner stood bare headed, and began to speak first. Ah my Lord Chancellor, is there no pardon? is there no Mercy? such and such (whom he did name one after another) have committed such offences and yet have been pardoned. What? you that look like an honest man, have you suffered that I should be so miserably condemned? ah! my Lord, if you had not told the Court that the King would have me to die, they would not have condemned me so. My Lord, my Lord, you could have hindred that evil, and you have not done it, you shall answer for that injustice before all the rest of the Judges that have condemned me, and saying so, he stroke the Chancellor upon the Arm. Ah! what a great service the King doth this day to the King of Spain, to rid him of such an Enemy as I was, might I not have been kept within four Walls, till some occasion had offered where I might have been useful? Ah my Lord, have you forgot my fathers love to you so much, as not to give notice to the King of what I say, and what dammage he suffereth in loosing me: I am yet as willing as ever to do Service to the Kingdom, you could let him know so much, he hath so good an opinion of you, I am sure he would believe you: A Messenger could quickly go thither and back again; what shall a thousand Gentlemen my Kinsmen say? doth he think that after my death they can do him any service? and what if I had been guilty, would I have come upon those false assurances that President Janin that great Cheat gave me, when he told me, that businesses were so ill mannaged in France, that it was fit I should see the King and tell him of it, who at my perswasion would settle them in better order: I have neglected all the advices of my friends to hearken unto his perswasions. I have trusted to that cursed Traitor la Fin, who writ to me that I could come in all safety, and that he had told the King nothing but of the Marriage that was propounded to me with a daughter of Savoy, that the King would receive me with all kindness. What then? the goings to and fro of many, the reasons of those who advised me to come, and the Kings Letters, were they all baits to catch me: I am well served to have trusted to much upon his Word, I could have sought and got other securities, if I had not trusted to my Innocency; I am come upon the confidence of my integrity since his pardon. Ah! doth he not know that he hath forgiven me; I have lied some evil designs, I have hearkened, I have written, I have spoken, I confessed them all at Lyon, he did assure me never to remember it, and did exhort me that from hence forwards I should commit nothing that might compel me to have recourse to his clemency: Nevertheless I am now accused of things that are blotted out by his pardon; I have not offended him since, unless it be in that I desired War rather than Peace, because my humour is not peaceable, had not the King at that time reason to approve of it? if this Crime deserveth death I fly to his clemency, I implore his Mercy. The Queen of England told me, that if the Earl of Essex would have humbled himself, and asked forgiveness, he should have obtained it: I do, being Innocent, what he would not do being guilty. Ah! Shall all Mercy be put out for me; those that have done worse have found Grace and Mercy: I perceive what it is, I am not the more guilty but the most unhappy, and the King, who hath been so sparing of his Subjects lives, hath a mind to be prodigal of mine.

To conclude, he forgot nothing of what might be said by a soul pierced with grief spite, anger, and violent threatning, in exclamations and revilings against the King and his Parliament, in reproaches against the Chancellor, that he had more contributed to his condemnation than to his absolution, in words that are not fit to be spoken nor related.

His words ran so fast that the Chancellor could not stop them: Nevertheless he took occasion to tell him, his passion suggested him many things without appearance of reason, and against his own judgment, that no body had known his defects better than he, and that he could have wished his faults had been as unknown as dissembled, that the knowledge of them had been so visible and apparent, that his Judges had more ado to moderate his punishment than to inflict it. That Sentence was given upon the proofs of several attemps he had made against the Kings Person and his Estate, and for having kept intelligence and correspondency with the Enemies of the Kingdom, of which he had been found guilty, that if he had concealed the truth in the answers to his accusations, he should now reveal it being so near to his end, and that for these causes the King did ask his Order of Knighthood, and his staff of Marshal of France, with which he had formerly honoured him: He pulled the Order out of his Pocket and put it into the Chancellors hands, Protesting and Swearing upon the Salvation of his Soul, that he never had broken the Oath he made in receiving it, that (it is true) he had desired War more than Peace; because he could not preserve in Peace, the reputation he had got in War, as for the Staff, he never carryed it: Nevertheless by the Oath that the Knights of the Holy Ghost take, they are bound to take no Pension, Wages nor Money from forrain Princes, and to engage themselves in no bodies service but the Kings, and faithfully to reveal what they shall know to be for or against the Kings service.

After that the Chancellor exhorted him to lift up his thoughts from Earth to Heaven, to call upon God, and to hear patiently his Sentence.

My Lord (said he) I beseech you do not use me as other men; I know what my Sentence beareth, my accusations are false, I wonder the Court would Condemn me upon the Evidence of the most wicked and detestable man that is alive; he never came near me without Witchcraft, nor never went from me till he had bewitched me, he did bite my left ear off, and made me drink inchanted waters, and when he said, that the King had a mind to rid himself of me, he called me his King, his Benefactor, his Prince, his Lord, he hath communication with the Devils, and hath shewed me a Wax Image, speaking these words in Latine, Rex impie morieris, ungodly King thou shalt die. If he hath had so much power by his Magick, as to make an inanimate body to speak, it is no wonder that he should make my Will conformable to his.

Here the Chancellor stopt him, and told him, that the Court had well considered his answers, and his Letters, that he ought not to find fault with his Sentence, that it had done him the same justice as a Father should do to his son, if he had offended in the like manner. He had scarce spoken these words when the other answered, what Judgment? I have been heard but once, and had no time to tell the fiftieth part of my justification; if I had been heard at large, I could have made it clearly appear that la Fin is such a one as I say; what Judgment upon the Evidence of a Bougerer? of a Rogue that hath forsaken his Wife, of a treacherous and perfidious man, that had Sworn so many times upon the Holy Sacrament, never to reveal what was between us, of a Knave that hath so often counterfeited my Hand and Seal: It is true, I have written some of those Letters that were shewed me, but I never intended to put them in Execution: and the rest are falsified: Is there not many that can counterfeit so well the Hand and Seal of others, that themselves can scarce distinguish them. It is well known that the Lady Marchioness of Vernevil hath lately acknowledged that to be her own hand, which she had never written. My Heart and my Actions have sufficiently countervailed the faults of my Hand, and of my Tongue. Besides, the King hath forgiven me, I do implore his Memory for a Witness. You say I have been found guilty to have attempted upon the Kings Person; that is false, that never came into my mind, and I knew nothing of it till that la Fin did propose it to me before St. Katherines Fort, six or seven days after the Siege, if I had been thus minded, I could have easily brought it to pass; I was the only man that hindred the King to go before the Fort: If my services had been taken into consideration, I should not have been thus condemned: I believe that if you had not been present, the Parliament would not have judged me so rigorously; I wonder that you, whom I thought to be prudent and wise, have used me so cruelly; it would have been more honourable for your quality and old age to implore for me the Kings Mercy, than his Justice. There is Dungeons here where I might have been kept bound hand and foot; I should have at last that comfort to pray for those who should have got me that favour from the King. If I had been but a single Souldier, I should have been sent to the Galleys; but because I am a Marshal of France, I am thought to be as dangerous a man to the State, as I have been useful heretofore. My life is sought after, I see there is no Mercy for me; the King hath often forgiven those, who not only intended to do evil, but had done it; this Vertue is now forgotten, he giveth occasion now to the World to believe, that he never used clemency or forgiveness, but when he was afraid. I was of opinion, that if I had killed one of his Children he would have forgiven me. Is it not pity that my Father should have run so many dangers, and at last died in the field to keep the Crown upon his Head, and that now he should take my head off my Shoulders, is it possible he should forget the services I have done him? doth he not remember the conspiracy of Mantes, and the dangers he should have been in if I had taken the Conspirators part? Hath he forgotten the Siege of Amiens, where I have been so often among the fire and Bullets, neglecting my own life to preserve his, I have not a Vein but hath been open to preserve his own Blood, I have received five and thirty wounds to save his life; he sheweth now that he never loved me but when he had need of me, he taketh away my head, but let him beware that the Justice of God doth not fall upon his. My Blood shall cry for revenge for the wrong that is done me to day, I call the King of Spain and the Duke of Savoy to Witness, if I know any thing what is laid to my charge. La Fin himself did shew me sometimes a Catholick List of about fourscore Gentlemen, who received Pension from the King of Spain, I had never so much curiosity as to read it; let him be put to the rack he shall tell many particularities of it; the King within a little while shall perceive what he getteth by my death; I shall at last die a good Catholick, and constant in my Religion, I believe that’s the cause of my death.

The Chancellor seeing that all his discourses were full of passion, vanity and repetitions, and void of reason, and were like an impetuous Torrent that cannot be stopt, and that all his words were nothing but reproaches against the King and the Court of Parliament, blasphemies against God, and execrations against his Accusers; said that his business called him away, and that in his absence he would leave him two Divines to comfort him, and to dispose his soul to leave quietly this World, for the enjoying of a better.

As the Chancellor was going out, the Prisoner begged of him that he might have the liberty to make his Will, because he did owe much, and much was owing to him, and he desired to satisfie every body. The Chancellor answered, that the Recorder Voisin should stay with him to write his Will under the Kings good pleasure. And as the Chancellor spoke to Voisin, the Prisoner turning to Roissy, Master of Requests, asked him if he were, one of those that had condemned him: my Father hath loved you so much, that though you were one, yet should I forgive you. Roissy answered, my Lord, I pray God Almighty to comfort you.

They went out, and he with a quiet mind and free from passion, did dictate his Will in what form he would, with the same Garbe, as if he had been making a Speech at the head of an Army; he remembred his friends and servants, and did not forget the Baron of Lux, whom he loved above all the rest. He lest eight hundred Livers a year to a Bastard of his, whom he begot of a woman that he left with Child of another, to which child he left a Mannor near Dijon that had cost him six thousand Crowns, he disposed all the rest of his Debts, and answered modestly, and without confusion to all the Notes and Bills that were brought him about his affairs. Took three Rings off his fingers, and intreated Baranton to give them to his Sisters, two to the Countess of Roussy, and the other to that of Saint Blancard, desiring they would wear them for his sake; he distributed in Alms about 200. Crowns that he had in his Pocket, fifty to the Capuchines, fifty to the Fueillants, fifty to the Minimes, and the rest to several poor people.

The Will being made, the Recorder put him in mind how my Lord Chancellor had told him he was condemned to death, and that according to the ordinary forms of the Law, he must have his Sentence read to him; that this action required humility, therefore willed him to kneel before the Altar, leaving off hence forth all thoughts of this World, to think upon the Father of Mercies; he kneeled with the right knee upon the first step of the Altar, and heard it read as followeth:

Seen by the Court, the Chambers being assembled together, the Process extraordinarily made by the Presidents and Councellors, appointed by the King under his Letters Patents, dated the 18 and 19 of June, at the request of the Kings Sollicitor General, against the Lord Charles of Gontault of Biron, Knight of both Orders, Duke of Biron, Peer and Marshal of France, Governour of Burgundy, Prisoner in the Castle of Bastille, accused of high Treason, Informations, Interrogations, Confessions and denials, Confrontations, and Witnesses, Letters, Advices, and Instructions given to the Enemies, and acknowledged by him, and all what the Solliciter General hath produced. Sentence of the 22 of this Month, by which it was ordered, that in the absence of the Peers of France summoned, it should be further proceeded to Judgment Conclusions of the Kings Sollicitor, the accuser being heard and interrogated, all things being duly considered, hath been concluded, that the said Court hath declared, and declareth the said Duke of Biron, attainted and convicted of high Treason, for the conspiracies by him made against the Kings Person and Estates, Proditions and Treaties with his Enemies, when he was Marshal of the Army of the said King, for reparation of which Crime, the said Court hath deprived and depriveth him of all his Estates, Honours and Dignities, and hath condemned and condemneth him to be beheaded upon a Scaffold, which for that purpose shall be erected in the place of Greve, hath declared, and declareth, all and every one of his Goods, moveable or unmoveable, in whatsoever places scituated and seated, to be acquired and confiscated to the King, the Mannor of Biron, deprived for ever of the Title and Dukedom and Peerage, and altogether all his other Goods, immediately holden from the King, reunited to the Crown again. Done in Parliament the last day of July 1602. Signed in the Original by de Belieure, Chancellor of France, Councillor in the Court, Reporter of the Process.

He was not moved at these words, attainted and convicted of high Treason, but at these, against the Person of the King, he fell into a rage, and Swearing as he had done many times before, and shall do hereafter with great Oaths and Imprecations, there is no such thing, said he to the Recorder, it is false, blot out that; he was also very angry, hearing that he was to be executed in the place of Greve, thinking that for several respects he was to be distinguished from the common sort of people, and Swore again, that he would not go thither, and that he had rather to be torn in pieces by wild Horses, and that it was not in the power of all those that stood by to carry him thither, then he was a little appeased, when Voisin told him, that the King had done him that favour to change the place of Execution, and that it was to be done in the Bastille. The confiscation of his Goods, and the revenues of the Dukedom of Biron to the Crown, was the last point of the Sentence that vexed him. What? said he, doth the King intend to grow rich out of my poverty? The Lordship of Biron cannot be confiscated, I only possessed it by substitution of my Brethren, what shall my Brethren do, the King ought to have been satisfied with the loss of my life.

The Sentence being pronounced, Voisin did exhort him again to renounce all the vanities of the world, to take no other care but of the Salvation of his Soul, which was to be first by reconciling himself to God Almighty, and that there was two Divines for that purpose, and that according to the usual forms of Executions, he would be pleased to suffer himself to be bound. That word of Execution did seem so horrid to him, that he fell into a new rage, Swearing, that he would never permit so infamous a person to touch him, otherwise than with the Sword, and that he had rather be hewen in pieces. To keep him from falling into a further despair, Voisin left him, with his Divines, viz. Garnier Almonec, and Confessor to the King, and after that Bishop of Montpelier, and Magnan, Curate of St. Nicolas in the fields at Paris, who began to talk boldly to him of his death, and to disvest himself of all his thoughts, as he had done of his Goods, and to take no other care than that of his Soul, whereupon he fell into a passion again, Let me alone (said he) it is I that must think upon my Soul, you have nothing to do with it, I had no need of you, you shall not be troubled to hear my confession; what I speak aloud is my confession, I have been these eight days a confessing my self, and the last night, me thought I saw the Heavens opened, and that God lent me his Hand; my Keepers heard me laugh for joy in my sleep. The Divines did not loose Courage for all that, but more and more intreated him to consider, that he was no more what he had been before, that within one or two hours he should be no more, that he must change to be for evermore, that his Soul was ready to appear before the fearfull Throne of the living God, to be rewarded with a more happy life than that he had hitherto passed; or be condemned to an Eternal pain and that in comparison of that which he was to suffer now, it was no more than the slight pricking of a Pin, and having in some measure appeased him, they left him to examine his Conscience, while Voisin went to give notice of his refusing to be bound; the Chancellor doubted whether he should be compelled to it; the first President said, that it was dangerous to let him loose; Sillery having learned of Voisin that the Prisoner was at that time very quiet, said, that if they went about to bind him, he would break all the bonds of Patience, and should never be brought to Execution but in a rage and dispair; according to that opinion he was left free in his body, that he might be the more free in his thoughts.

Which were more to the World, and to the setling of his affairs, than to the saving of his Soul, which he had neglected all his life time, and shewed himself utterly ignorant of the principles of his Religion, for which he said a little before, he was put to death, and those that were present related, that his Prayers made him appear more a Souldier than a Christian; he prayed in commanding, and commanded in praying.

His Confession being ended, he walked in the Chappel with one hand upon his side, and with the other holding the strings of his Shirt, did unbutton and button again his Doublet. Voisin being come back told him, that the Chancellor and the first President were very glad to hear of his Patience, and of his constant resolution to die. He talked much of the Money he had at Dijon, of the worth of his Jewels, and of what was owing to him, and what himself did owe, he desired that some Sums of Money should be paid to certain Gentlemen, that had no Obligation for it: But still he broke forth into exclamations concerning his Innocency, and execrations against la Fin, asking if it should not be lawfull for his Brothers to prosecute him, and to cause him to be burnt.

Upon this, those that kept him during his Imprisonment, came to take their leave of him, every one having his left hand upon the handle of his Sword, and Tears in his Eyes, he moved them to compassion by the sight of his present condition, and exhorted them to serve the King faithfully, against whom he had said he had done nothing amiss, and complained that he could find no Mercy at his Hands, intreated them to pray to God for him, and to oblige them to that, distributed among them all his Cloaths and linnen, and Watches; he desired also the Knight of the Watch to tell the King, that his Servants knew nothing of his Affairs, that the Earl of Auvergne was not to be questioned upon that account: He intreated much one exempt of the Guards to go to the said Earl, and tell him he had laid nothing to his charge, and that he went to die without any grief, but of the loss of his friendship, and that the shortness of his life would not give him leave to shew in effect how much he was his servant. The Earl sent him word, that he did accept of his farewell, as of an intimate friend; and that he remained behind to lament all the days of his life the loss he suffered in him, intreated him to leave him his Bastard Son, to have him brought up with his own Children. After this the Prisoner saw a Gentleman belonging to the Duke of Mayene, and entreated him to tell his Master, that if ever in his life he had given him some occasion not to love him, that he prayed to believe that he would die his servant, as also of the Duke of Aiguillon, and Earl of Sommerive his Children; he likewise intreated Arnaut, Secretary to the Marquess of Rhosny, to remember his last commendations to his Master, and desire him to remember not so much him that went to die, as his Brethren whom he left behind, that he had him in opinion of a good and usefull servant to the King, and repented much he had not believed his Councel.

About three of the Clock the Chancellor and the first President went up again into the Chappel, and finding him in a good disposition, did fortifie his resolution by their discourses, and desiring to know more particularities from his own mouth, sent all the standers by away, except the Divines and the Recorder: They did exhort him to consider, that the days of man are limited, that the end of his days depended from the Providence of the Almighty, who would take him out of this world before some great and long misery should make him weary of it. He answered, no, no my Lords, do not trouble you about comforting me and strengthning me against the fear of death, I have not been afraid of it these 20 years; you have given me 40 days to study it, but I could not believe that having not been in the power of my Enemies to take away my life, I should be so miserable as to loose it by the consent of my friends; having said this they left him, and took their leaves of him with Tears in their Eyes, he would not suffer them to depart till they had received a new Protestation of his, that he never had attempted any thing against the King, Swearing, that if he would have done it, the King should not have been alive three years ago.

As they were going out of the Bastille with Sillery, he sent the Knight of the Watch to intreat the Chancellor, that his Body might be buried at Biron, in the Sepulchre of his Ancestors, and that he would desire the King to give to his younger Brother some Office in the house of the Dolphin, and shewing by his Countenance, Carryage, and Words, to care as little for death as one that is a great way from it gave cause to suspect, that he was not out of hope to obtain his pardon from the King, or to escape by some extraordinary means.

The Divines did exhort him to keep nothing back of what might serve for the discharging of his Conscience, and to consider, that they could give him absolution for no more than what he did confess. Although, said he, the King causeth me to die unjustly, nevertheless I have served him with so much affection and obedience, and I have near my death so much good will and affection for him, that if I knew any thing against his Person or State, I would tell it freely, and upon that whispered some things to his Confessors, which Voisin did presently write.

Being about five of the Clock, Baranton was sent to tell him it was time to go; let us go said he, seeing I must die, and desired he would charge his Brothers from him, to remain faithful to the King, and not to go to Court, till time had blotted, or at least lessened the shame of his death. He kneeled before the Altar, and having ended his Prayer, he desired the Company to pray for him.

Coming out of the Chappel, he met the Executioner, who offered to follow him, and he thinking it was to bind him; keep off, (said he) and do not touch me till it be time; I shall go willingly to die without troubling any body; but it shall never be said that I am dead like a Slave, or a Thief, and swore by God that if he came near him he would strangle him. The Divines exhorted him going down the stairs to resist those impaciencies and temptations of the Devil, who striveth most to deviate the Soul from her Salvation, when as he hath most need of the Divine assistance to withstand his assaults, remonstrating also unto him, that all his violences and passions could not hinder the Soul to depart from a place where she was but a Tenant at Will. He hearkened to them, and saying three times ah, ah, ah, raising his voice at every one, he said, is there no Mercy in the world, I see to day, that all the world hath forsaken me.

He came into the Yard, and seeing the Lieutenant of the City, in whose house the King had put la Fin, to secure him from all attempts, My Lord Lieutenant (said he) I am very much your friend, take heed to have any thing to do with that Witch and Magician that lyeth at your house, if you meddle with him he will undo you.

The Scaffold was set up in the corner of the Yard, over against the Garden gate, six foot high, and seven long, without any Ornament or distinction. He kneeled upon the first step, lifted up his Eyes to Heaven and made a short Prayer, like a Souldier, and went up as couragiously as if he had gone to an assault, clad in a Gray Taffety Suit, with a black Hat on his Head, but as soon as he saw the Executioner, he looked furiously upon him, and bid him stand aside till he were ready to receive the last stroke: He threw his Hat, his Handkarchief, and Doublet to the first that would take it, nevertheless one of the Executioners men was nimbler than all the rest, and looking upon the Souldiers that kept the Gate armed, with Musquets and Fire-locks. Ah! said he, must I die? is there no pardon? if at least some of those good fellows would shut me (opening his Breast) he should oblige my very much, what pity is it to die so miserably, and of so shameful a blow, then directing his speech to the Spectators, he said, I have put my Soul into such a state as she ought to be to appear before the face of Almighty God, but I pity that of the King, who causeth me to die unjustly: I have erred I confess, but I never attempted anything against the Kings Person, he should have been dead ten years ago if I would have believed the evil Councel that was given me concerning that the trouble and distress of his Soul was so great, that a little while before he said three years, and now he says ten; the Divines having setled him a little once more, he received their absolution.

The Executioner then presented unto him a Frontlet, but it proved to him a new wound, an increase of grief, and swore if he toucht him any other way than with the Sword he would strangle him, & thereupon he asked again for his own Handkarchief to make use of it, his hollow and gastly Eyes shewed he was not in his right mind. Voisin intreated him to be patient, and to raise his thoughts to the place where his Soul was to go, and to be attentive to the reading of his Sentence. He was unwilling to hear the repetition of his Crimes, and to have occasion to exclaim again against the Iniquitie, of those that had condemned him, against the Kings cruelty, as he called it, that would not grant him his pardon, and that this was to make him feel death before death. Voisin answered, that it could not be done otherwise. He answered that every body knew for what reason he was there and then as if it were by confession, he said, well, read, and thereupon held his Peace till Voisin came to these words, for having attempted against the Kings Person; for then he fell into a passion again, as he had done before, and said, that it was false, that this never came into his mind, that as God was his Judge, he would be for ever deprived of his Grace if it were true, that since two and twenty Months he had done nothing against the Kings service, that it is true he had written some Letters, but that the King had forgiven him, protesting and calling the Spectators to Witness, that it was the truth what he spoke, as he would answer it before God, and spoke so many words, and so fast that neither he nor the Sheriff could be understood.

The Sentence being read, the Divines did admonish him to leave all Earthly thoughts, to implore the assistance of Heaven, and to resign his Soul to the Eternal providence of the Almighty, and his Body to what the Law had ordained of it, he made some Prayer to God, and bound his Eyes with his own Handkarchief, and asked the Executioner in what place he was to put himself, the Executioner pointing with his finger, said, there my Lord; he pulled off his Handkarchief in a rage, and where is that there, said he? thou seest I am blind fold, and thou shewest me as if I could see; he bound himself again, and bid the Executioner to dispatch quickly: The Executioner told him he ought to kneel, for fear he should do something amiss. No, no, said he, I shall not stir, if thou canst not do it at one blow do it at thirty, he was intreated again to kneel, which he did, and spoke these Imperious words, dispatch, dispatch, then rose up again, and untied his Handkarchief, and by casting his Eyes upon the Executioner, made the people believe, that either he had a mind to seize upon the Sword, or that he was terribly afrighted by the approaches of Death, and began again his former complaints, is there no pardon? must I die so miserably? after so many services. The Executioner intreated him to suffer his hairs behind to be cut off; he began to swear again fearfully, that if he toucht him otherwise than with the Sword, he would strangle him. The Divines told him that he was too carefull of his Body, he would hear no more of that, but fell into a rage, and swore, that he would not be toucht by so Infamous a Person as long as he was alive, that if they did provoke him too much, he would strangle half the Company, and oblige the other half to kill him, those that were upon the Scaffold went down and left him with the Executioner, who repented himself heartily that he had taken the care of him unbound.

The Divines went up again upon the Scaffold, and desired him for the love of God to resolve to step over that pass, which was necessary for every man to do, and with some few other words, whispered into his ears, did calm him a little, and made him resolve to undergo the Execution, after he had made many complaints, and shewed great fears of dying. A strange thing that as stout and valiant a man as ever was born, who had so many times cast himself amongst the greatest dangers, without any fear or apprehension, as if there was no death for him, should shew himself now so fearful at the coming of it; we may judge by this, that the apprehension of death is incomparably greater when it cometh upon a cold blood, and those that know what his Chirurgion was wont to say, shall less wonder at it; for he said, that the Duke of Biron used to wonder at himself, that being not afraid of the thrust of a Sword, nevertheless he was very timerous at the pricking of a Launcet, when he had occasion to be let blood: Whereupon we must confess, that the greatest courage, and most undaunted stoutness of a man, is nothing in comparison of human Natures weakness.

The Divines judging him to be out of fear, gave him his last absolution, he kneeled again, and cried aloud three times, My God, my God, my God, have Mercy upon me, then turning to the Executioner, he took the headband that he had in his hand, and intreated Baranton to do him that last curtesie as to lift up his hairs behind, which Baranton did, and the Duke himself did tie the Handkarchief about his Eyes. The Divines seeing him in that good disposition, did assure him, that he was ready to go to Heaven, and to see God, and to enjoy his Glory. Yes, said he, Heaven is open to receive my Soul, and so stooped his neck for the Executioner to do his office. The Executioner considering, that he had untied himself three times before, and might do so again for the fourth, thought fitting to entertain him with fair words, to desire his forgiveness, and to put him in mind of saying his last Prayer, in the mean time he beckened to his man, who was at the foot of the Scaffold, to reach him the Sword, which no sooner was in his hand, but the Duke of Birons Head was off his Shoulders, it fell from the Scaffold to the ground, and was thrown again by the Executioners man upon the Scaffold, the Body was stript to its Shirt, and wraped in a Sheet, and the same day buried, about nine of the Clock at night, in St. Pauls Church, without any shew or Ceremony. Thus ended the Tragical History of the Duke of Biron.

Now follows the two last Verses of this Prophecie.

A Post overtaken in the Countrey,

And the Scrivener shall cast himself into the Water.

Which as we have said before, were concerning Nicolas L’oste, Secretary to the Lord Villeroy, chief Secretary of State. The History therefore is thus.

The French Embassador at Madrid, complained once to Henry the IV. he was so ill informed, and so late of Affairs, that the King of Spain’s Ministers knew them before him: The King was a great while troubled before he could discover the spring of that infidelity, at last it came out in this manner. Villeroy that great Oracle of France, and the most confident Secretary to the King, had among his servants one Nicolas l’Oste, born at Orleans, in whom he did confide so much the more, because his Father had been the most part of his life in his service.

The Lord Rochepot going Embassador into Spain, Oste desired to be admitted into his Family, to serve him as his secretary, that he might the better fit himself for publick employment. Villeroy’s commendation got him easily that employment, by which in a few Months he became so capable of the Spanish Tongue and manners, that no body could have distinguished him from a natural Spaniard. The Embassador having sworn in the name of the most Christian King the treaty of Peace made at Veruins, the King of Spain presented him with a rich Chain of Jewels, and with six other of Gold, valued at 150. Crowns apiece, to bestow upon as many of his own servants as he should think fit.

The pride and presumption of this young man was such as to perswade him he deserved one of them, and chiefly because one of his fellows was thought worthy of it, but his Master did not think so, and thus he was neglected.

Thus envy and jealousie were the Windows by which the Devil crept into his soul; the vanity, lying, pride, and debauchery gave him a full admittance, he had spent all his Money to buy the love of a Courtisane, and wanted means to follow that course which he had no mind to leave off. His Masters neglecting of him, had extraordinarily vexed him, but he comforted himself that he knew his secrets, and that in revealing them to the King of Spains Ministers he shot two Birds with one shot; for he should avenge himself of that contempt he had received, and should have a way to continue his amorous expences. With that intention he made himself known to Don Franchese one of the Secretaries of State, and told him what means he had to serve the King of Spain, and to shew him proofs of that service and affection he had vowed to him long before, by imparting to him all the Letters that the Embassador did both send and receive from the King his Master.

Don Franchese heard this proposition as from a young man, whose Brains were not well settled, or perhaps did abhor such infidelity, therefore told him coldly, that the Catholick King was in so good amity with the most Christian one, that he desired to know no more of his business, than what his Embassador should tell him.

L’Oste did not despond for all this, but went to Don Ydiaques another Secretary of State, who knowing how important it is for a Prince to know the secrets of his Neighbours, and that the slighting of such an offer would be prejudicial to the King his Masters Service, did hearken unto this Traitor, approved of his design, and exhorted him to persevere in the good affection he shewed to the King of Spains service, promised to acquaint the King with it, and to procure him such a reward, as he should have reason to be satisfied with.

The Councel agreed that L’Oste should be incouraged, and Don Ydiaques, presented him to the Duke of Lerma, to whom he shewed the Alphabet of Cyphers, with which his Master writ his Letters into France, and for a further proof unciphered the last Letter that the King of France had sent. The Duke exhorted him to continue his good Will, gave him 1200. Crowns for an earnest of the Bargain, with a promise of as much for a yearly pension, besides a considerable gratification he was to expect from the King.

Since that time the French Embassador received no Letters but they were presently imparted to the Spanish Councel: But the Lord la Rochepot being called back into France, L’Oste lost the conveniency of prosecuting his Treasons, and consequently the hopes of his promised reward, therefore sought means to come again into his first Masters, that is, Villeroy’s service, but he was a while kept back from it by reason of a difference between his Mother and Villeroy, about some rest of Accounts; but L’Oste had rather take that loss upon him than to be deprived of that occasion. The Embassador himself gave him a large Testimony Of his ability and faithfulness, and was Instrumental for his re-admission into that service.

Thus being re-established, he became more diligent and sedulous than ever before, and not only writ more Letters than any of his fellows, but also offered them his service to help them, that he might have a more perfect knowledge of all transactions, and so impart them to the Spaniard, and so visited and conferred with Taxis the Spanish Embassador at Paris, and after that with his successor, Don Baltazar de Cuniga, with so much cunning and secrecy, that the Councel of Spain received his Letters, before des Barreaux the French Embassador at Madrid, could receive those of the King.

Des Barreaux sent word to the King, that when he propounded any thing, according to his Majesties command, to the Councel of Spain, he found them always preadvised, and could not find out by what means; certainly said the King, there must be some in my Councel that keep a strict intelligence with the Spaniard, and I can not tell whom to suspect. Providence doth often draw good effects out of the worse causes, and permitteth that the wicked should disclose one anothers wickedness, as a Nail driveth out another. Loste had revealed himself familiarly to one Raffis, formerly Secretary to the Lord Lansac, a fugitive into Spain, for many Treasons, and exempted from pardon; but the Spaniard had begun to cut him short of his former Pensions, since the Treason of the Baron of Fontanelles, Governour of Dornavenest in Brittanny, in which the said Raffis had been a principal Actor, though in vain, so that since, the Councel of Spain looked upon him as an unprofitable servant, and withdrew their Pension.

Raffis finding himself near a great want and misery, thought this occasion might be a means to prevent it, and to procure his return into his native Countrey, by doing so great a service to his Prince; therefore he went to one of the French Embassadors most faithful servants, and told him his grief, for having had a share in so many Treasons and Rebellions in France, which he acknowledged God had into his particular protection, that he was resolved to blot out the memory of them by a notable service done to the King and Kingdom, but that could not be, unless he had first obtained pardon for all his former misdemeanors.

This being told to the Embassadour, he heard Raffis, who told him in general that the King was betrayed, and his most secret Councel bewrayed, but that he could not name the Traitor, no not to his Majesty himself, before he had his pardon: that being done, he would wholly withdraw himself from those whom he knew certainly to be enemies to the Kingdom. The Embassadour sent an express to the King to give him notice of it. The King sent him full power to treat with Raffis, with promiss to ratifie whatsoever he should promiss to Raffis; Raffis could not make good his accusation, but by two Letters written by Loste, to a great friend of his, named Blas, which Letters he knew to be in a Box of Blas, who lodged with him; therefore upon some pretext or another, they found means to send Blas as far as l’Escurial. In his absence Raffis and Descardes Secretary to the Embassadour, broke open the Box, and took out the Letters, by which Loste did much magnifie the liberalities of Spain, as being above his desert and expectation; with this proofs and the Embassadors Letters, Raffis fained to go to a Monastery near Madrid, and there make his devotions upon Palm-Sunday, as he was wont to do, but he went directly to Bayone, where he met with Discardes upon a set day. Blas came back after Palm-Sunday, and finding his Box open, and his companion run away, he suspected the matter, and gave notice of it to the Spanish Ministers, who presently dispatched two Courriers to the Spanish Embassador at Paris, to give him notice that a man was gone from Madrid; who would discover Loste and his practises, therefore he should give him notice of it, and bid him look to himself, and that in case he should be taken, to keep secresie.

Descardes and Raffis came to Paris the Wensday after Easter, and carried themselves with all faithfulness in this occasion, but not with all the prudence that could have been desired. Villeroy was going the same day to lie at his own House, between Paris and Fountain-bleau, where the Court was then; they met with him at Juvisy, and waited on him as far as Villeroy, but told him nothing of the occasion of their coming by the way, till they presented him with the Embassadors Letters, which was a notable fault, for he would certainly have neglected all other business to secure his man, who was then doing his devotions at the Charter-house of Paris.

The next day Villeroy was the first that told the King of the coming of Raffis, and of the perfidiousness of his own servant. As he was going back to his Lodging, notice was given him that two Spanish Courtiers were arrived at the Post-house; he commanded one of the Commissioners of the Post-house, that he should cause them to withdraw into a Room, and that no body should speak with them; he charged also Descardes, that he should spy the coming of Loste, that he should keep him close company, and send him presently notice of his arrival. The Commissioner and Descardes did commit here another great fault, for Loste being come to the Post-house about noon, this silly Commissioner told him that there were arrived two Spanish Courtiers who asked for him, that they had Letters for him, and more then that, suffered him to go into their Chamber and see them, he saluted them, and one of them whispered him in the ear that he was undone if he did not save himself presently, and that Raffis had discovered him; fear and astonishment with his guilty conscience, persuaded him easily to look to himself.

Nevertheless, he settled his countenance the best he could, he went out with an intention to take his Horse again, which he had sent before, and so save himself; Descardes and Raffis perceived him, Descardes came and saluted him, and thinking perhaps that he was strong enough to give an account of him, neglected to send word to Villeroy, who was then in his Closet with the Bishop of Chartres; Descardes presence was a great thorn in Loste’s foot, to be rid of him, he said he was going to his Master, who stayed for him; Descardes offered to accompany him: he answered, he had not dined, and that believing it was past Dinner time at home, he would go into some Cabaret to look for a Dinner, the other answered I have not dinned neither, we shall dine together. Loste found another excuse, and said my Boots hurt me, I pray give me leave that I may go and pull them off; Descardes answered, he must needs drink with him. Thus arguing together, they came to Villeroy’s Lodging, where Descardes thinking to have him sure, left him in the Room, not knowing that the Spanish Courtiers had talked with him, and came near the Closet to give notice of it to Villeroy; but as soon as he saw himself rid of Descardes, he went down into the Stable, and finding his Horse yet Sadled he Mounted, and with all speed rid to Paris; Villeroy in the mean time having notice that his man was come, he commanded they should bring them in; but he was not to be found, nor his Horse neither, no body knowing which way he was gone. Villeroy told the King that his man was escaped, they sent after him on all sides, and Villeroy particularly sent all his Servants after into all the ways. Loste coming to Paris about nine of the Clock at night, went to take counsel of the Spanish Embassadour, and before day, went out habited like a Spaniard, with the Embassadors Steward, and took his way towards Meaux, with an intent to get into Luxembourg by Poste.

That every one might endeavour the apprehending of that Traitor, it was spread abroad that one of Villeroy’s Secretaries had attempted upon the Kings Person, and notice was given of his Stature, Age, Cloaths and Horse. The Sheriffs of every Countrey were in quest, and all Post-Masters were forbidden to let out any Horses, but that of Meaux had notice of it too late; Loste was got on Horseback already, but assoon as he began to gallop, his Horse fell to the ground, and was an ill Omen to the Rider; he got up again, and shewed so much fearfulness in his Countenance, that the Postillion himself thought he had committed some notorious villany, which he did run for. Being come home, he gave notice of it to his Master, who suspecting him to be the man enquired off, he gave notice of it to the Sheriff, who presently made after him at the second Ferry of la Ferte soubs Jouare, where he was Crossing the River; the Sheriff cried after the Ferry man to come back, but the fear of his life, which the two run aways put him into, prevailed upon him, above the Sheriffs commands, being got over, and judging that their Post-Horses should be quickly overtaken by those of the Sheriff, they forsook them and the Postillion; and trusted to their heels in the darkness of the night among the Bushes and Brambles that are upon the River Marne. The Sheriff scattered his men all about, caused fires to be made, and raised up all the Countrey people thereabout; the Spaniard ran over the Champion Countrey, and Loste went from Bush to Bush, and whether accidentally or wilfully he fell into the River Marne, where he was drowned; the next day his Hat was found between two posts, and his body two days after not far from that place.

Thus you may plainly see the full event of those two famous Prophecies, contained in this sixth Stanza.