shame and his content his affliction and â—…serie But as mild and sweet perswasion is ever more capable and powerfull to prevaile with women than constraint so our faiâ—…e Bellinda is so distasted with the lunacy and with the phrensie and madnes of this her husbands jealousie that shee no sooner sees her Palura arive in her sight and presence but despite â—…f â—…s suspition and feare shee is â—…o 〈◊〉 in her lust and so lascivious in 〈◊〉 affâ—…ction towards him that she tâ—…es pleasure to seeke pleasure and extremely delighteth to seeke and â—…d delight with him which according to her former lewâ—… 〈◊〉 and ungodly contract shee often doth Now this foolish young couple being the obliged schoâ—…ers of â—…pid and the devoted votaries of Venus thinke to bee as wise as they are lascivious in these their amorous pleasures for knowing that discretion makes lovers happie and that secrecie is the true touch-â—…e yea the verie life and souâ—…e of love they therefore esteeme and keepe the secrets thereof as if they were sacred and thinke that no mortall eyes but their owne can 〈◊〉 know it but yet notwithstanding all this De Mora's jealous feares in the detection are still as great as their care in the prevention thereof for the very next night after Palura departure from his house hee purposely absenteth anâ—…eth his wife from his bed and the next morning calling her into the gardeâ—… after him and causing the doore to bee â—…ut he then and there with lighâ—…g iâ—… his lookes and tâ—…nder in his speeches chargeth her of adulterie with 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 this young strumpet his wife Bellinda at the verie first hearing of this 〈◊〉 and unexpected newes dissembles so artificially with her husband and so proâ—… with God as seeming to dissolve and melt into teares shee purgeth her selfe hereof with many strong vowes cleereth Palura with many deepe asseverations 〈◊〉 this fanaticke Tyrant and franticke monster jealousie which for the most part wee can seldome or never kill before it kill us had wrought such strange impressions in the braines ingraven such extravagant chimoera's in the heart and â—…eleefe of old De Mora that notwithstanding his wives oathes and teares to the contrary hee yet still vowes to himselfe and her that shee is guiltie of adulterie with Palura and therefore chargeth her that henceforth shee dare not see him or receive him into her house or companie Bellinda hereat to give her â—…and some content in her owne discontent makes a great shew of sorrow and an extreme apparition and exteriour apparance of griefe she sends for her father Cursoro acquaints him with the unjust wrong and indignitie which her Lord 〈◊〉 husband hath offered her and praies him to interpose his authoritie and judgement with him for their reconciliation who seeing himselfe solicited and sought to by his owne blood by his daughters hypocrisie beleeves her to be as innocent as her husband De Mora thinkes her guilty of this foule crime of adultery with Palura and so undertakes to solicit and deale with his sonne in law De Mora to that effect which hee doth but with no desired successe so that finding it to bee a knottie and difficult busines and upon the whole no lesse than a Herculean labour because of De Mora's wilfull obstinacie and perverse cre dulity hee therefore praies for both of them and thus leaves them and their difference to time and to God and upon these unfortunate tearmes doth old De Mora his young wife Bellinda and their marriage now stand In the meane time Bellinda who suffers doubly both in her pleasure and her reputation is not yet so devoid of sense or exempt of judgement but shee will speedily provide for the one and secure the other To which effect seeming sorrowfully obedient to her husband she thinkes it not fit that her Palura should for a season approach her house or her selfe wherefore by a confident messenger shee sends him this letter BELLINDA to PALVRA MY husband hath discovered our affections and is confident that I love thee far better than himselfe wherein as hee is nothing deceived so I conjure thee by the preservation of thy fidelitie and my honour to forbeare my house and sight for some two moneths in which interim I will use my chiefest art and the utmost of my possible power to calme the stormes and tempests that jealousie hath raised in him So bee thou but as patient as I will bee constant and I hope a little time shall end our languishing and againe worke our contents and desires for though thou art absent from mee yet I am still present with thee and albeit my husband De Mora have my body yet Palura and none but Palura hath my heart as knoweth God to whose best favour and mercy I affectionately and zealously recommend thee BELLINDA Palura receives this letter and although hee fetch many deepe figâ—…es at the reading thereof yet hee gives it many sweet kisses for her sweet sake who writ and sent it him hee knowes not whether hee hath more reason to condemne De Mora's jealousie or to commend his Lady Bellinda's affection and constancie to himselfe and because hee resolves to preferre her content and honour equally with his owne life therefore heâ—… will dispence with his lustfull and lascivious pleasures for a time purposely to give her beauty and merrits their due forever so in requit all of her affectionate letter he by her owne messenger returnes her this kind and courteous answer PALVRA to BELLINDA I Am as sorrowfull that thy husband De Mora hath discovered our affections as truly joyfull that thou lovest mee far better than himselfe wherefore to prevent his jealousie equally to preserve my fidelity with thy honour and thy honour with my life know sweet and deare Bellinda that thy requests are my commands and thy will shall eternally be my law in which regard I will refraine thy house all thy long prefixed time and so forbeare to see thee but never to love thee because thy sweet devine beauty is so deeply ingraven in my thoughts imprinted in my soule thâ—…t the farther I transport my body from thee the neerer my affection brings my heart to thee I will adde my chiefest wishes to thy best art and my best prayers to thy chiefest power that a little time may worke our content and desires but because there is no torment nor death to languishing nor no languishing to that of love therefore I shall thinke every moment a moneth and every houre a yeare before wee againe kisse and imbrace conceale this letter of mine from all the world with as much care and secresie as I send it thee with fervent zeale and tender affection PALVRA The perusall of this letter and the affection of Palura demonstrated in this his resolution makes Bellinda as glad as the jealousie of her Lord and husband De Mora sorrowfull and now seeing his rage so reasonlesse and his malice and obstinacie so
him by her being a very faire young girle about the age of twelve yeares old named Iosselina whom hee hoped should prove the staffe and prop of his age and resolved when she grew up in yeares and came to womans estate to marry her to some of his neighbours sonnes and at his death to give her all that litle which either his parents or his owne labor and industry had left or procured him Two or three yeares sliding away in which time Mollard increasing in wealth and his Daughter in yeares shee was and was justly reported to bee the fairest Nymph of those parts and by all the rusticke Swaynes tearmed the faire Iosselina esteeming themselves happy if they might see her much more if they might injoy her presence Now within a little League of Mollards house dwelt an ancient and wealthy Gentleman named Mounsieur de Coucie who had many children but among the rest his eldest sonne tearmed Mounsieur de Mortaigne was a very hopefull and brave Gentleman who was first a Page to that generous Nobleman Mounsieur de la Guiche sometimes Governour of Lyons and since his death a chiefe Gentleman to Mounsieur de Saint Ierrant now a Marshall of France This Mortaigne having lived some yeares in Paris with his Lord the Marshall where hee followed all honourable exercises as Riding Fencing Dancing and the like whereby hee purchased himselfe the honourable title of a most perfect and accomplished Gentleman was at last desirous to see his father partly because he understood he was weake and sickely but especially to bee at the Nuptialls of a sister of his tearmed Madamoyselle de la Hay who was then to be married to a Gentleman of Avergne tearmed Mounsieur de Cassalis This Marriage being solemnized Mortaigne having conducted his sister into Avergne and now seeing his father strong and lusty hee beginnes to dislike the Countrey and to wish himsefe againe in Paris where the rattling of Coaches and the infinity of faire Ladies did better delight and please him hee craves leave of his father and mother to returne which because hee is the chiefest stay and comfort of their age they unwillingly grant him and so he prepares for his returne to Paris But an unlooked for accident shall stop his journey for the present and another but farre more fatall seconding and succeeding that shall stop and hinder him from ever seeing it For the night before hee was to depart the morning de Coucye his father is most dangerously taken with a burning Feaver and so neither he nor his mother will permit him to depart Living thus in the Countrey and few Gentlemen dwelling neere his fathers house hee gives himselfe to Hunting and Hawking Pastimes and exercises which though before he loved not yet now he exceedingly delights in Now amongst other times hee one day hunting in his fathers Woods hollowing for his Dog which hee had lost in a Thicket by chance sprung a Pheasant who flying to the next Woods hee sends for his Hawke with an intent to flye at him and so being not so happy as againe to set sight of him hee ranged so farre and withall so fast that he was very thirsty but saw no house neere him that hee might call for wine till at last he happened on that of Andrew Mollard of whom we have formerly made mention Mortaigne seeing a man walking in the next Vineyard demanded if he were the man of the house and prayed him to afford him a draught of Wine alledging that he was very thirsty Mollard knowing this young Gentleman by the Modell of his face presumed to demand him if he were not one of Mounsieur de Coucye's sonnes Hee answered yes and that his name was Mortaigne Mollard presently calling to minde that he was his fathers heire very courteously in his fashion prayes him to enter his house and so beeing set downe hee sends his daughter Iosselina for wine which she fetched and they both drinke where honest Mollard thinking his house blessed with so great and as he thought so good a Gentleman very cheerefully proffers him peares Grapes Walnuts and such homely dainties as his poore cottage could affoord But wee shall see Mortaigne requite this courtesie of Mollard with an extreame ingratitude Mortaigne whose eye was seldome on Mollard and never from his daughter admires to see so sweet a beauty in so obscure a place he cannot refraine from blushing to behold the delicacy of her pure complexion for though she were poore in cloathes yet hee saw her rich in beauty which made not onely his eyes but his heart conclude that shee was wonderfull faire sith it is ever the signe of a true and perfect beauty where the face graceth the apparrell and not the apparrell the face And now comparing Iosselina's taynt to that of the gallant Ladies of Paris he finds that the truth of nature exceeds the falshood of their Art for thorow the Alablaster of her Front Necke and Pappes hee might perceive the azure of her veines which like the windings of Meanders streames swiftly range and sweetly presents it selfe to his eye And for her eies or rather the Diamonds and Stars of her face their splendor was so cleare and their influence so piercing as they not onely captivate his thoughts with love but wound his heart with affection and admiration But if Mortaigne gaze on the freshnesse and sweetnesse of Iosselina's beauty no lesse doth she on the propernesse and perfection of his youth onely his eyes tilt at hers with more liberty and hers on him with modesty respect and secrecy which Mortaigne well espying hee vowes to obtaine her favour or to lose his life in research thereof but the end of such lascivious resolutions seldome prosper But see how all things favour Mortaignes affection or rather his lust to Iosselina for Mollard tells him hee holds a small tenement neere adjoyning of his father who hath now put him in sute of Law for two herriots and therefore beseecheth him for his good word and favour to his father in his behalfe Mortaigne glad of this occasion to serve for a pretext and cloake for him to have accesse to his house and daughter promiseth him to deale effectually with his father for him and the next time he passeth that way to acquaint him what hee hath done therein and so stealing a kisse or two from Iosselina as her father went into the Court and withall swearing to her that hee loved her dearely and would come often to see her hee thanking Mollard for his good cheere for that time departed But the further hee goes from Mollards house the neerer his heart approcheth his daughter Iosselina So his thoughts being stedfastly and continually fixed on her hee beginnes to distaste his fathers house yea forsakes all company and many times pretending to walke in the Parke and Woods he steales away privately to see his new Mistresse Hee visits her often but especially when her father is at market and gives her
prison although she partly believed and knew that she never affected or loved her when ayming to adde consolation to her afflictions as God would have it Laurieta out of her ignorance or folly returnes la 〈◊〉 this unlooked for answer That her selfe was as innocent of Belluile's death as shee was of Poligny's Which words being over-heard by some curious head of the company were instantly carryed and reported to the Criminall Iudges who instantly cause la Palaisiere to bee apprehended and brought before them whom they examine upon Poligny's death which doth no way affâ—…ight or afflict her because her conscience was untainted and her selfe as innocent as innocencie her selfe thereof They deale further with her to understand the passages of former businesses betwixt her selfe Poâ—…gny and Belluile Shee gives them a true and faithfull account thereof yea and relates them as much and no more then this History hath formerly related us and to verifie and confirme her speeches like a discreet young Gentlewoman she gives them the keyes of a Trunke of hers wherein shee sayth is her copy of a Letter shee wrote to Poligny and his answer againe to her which shee prayes them to send for for her better cleering and discharge The Iudges send speedily away for these Letters which are found produced and read directly concurring with the true circumstance of her former deposition whereupon with much applause and commendation they acquit and discharge her But if la Palaisiers Vertues have cleered her Laurieta's Vices which the Iudges begin to smell out by Poligny's Letter doe the more narrowly and streightly imprison her and yet knowing that la Palasiere neither had nor could any way accuse her for either of these two Murthers she sets a good face on her bad heart and so very bravely frollikes it in prison and to speake truth with farre more joy and lesse feare then heretofore but to checke and overthrow these vaine triumphs of hers in their birth and to niâ—… them in their bâ—…ds newes is brought her that her Wayting mayd Lucilla is secretly fled which her Iudges understanding they now more vehemently then ever heretofore suspect that without doubt Laurieta was the authour and her Mayd Lucilla the accessary of Belluile's Murther and so they set all the city and countrey for her apprehension And this newes indeed makes Laurieta feare that shee will iâ—…allibly be taken which doth afflict and amaâ—…e her and indeed here at shee cannot refraine from biting her lip and hanging downe her head But see the miraculous and just judgement of the Lord upon this wretched and bloudy Lucilla for she for feare flying as it is supposed that night from Avignion to Orenge to her parents was there drowned and the next morne found and taken up dead in one of the Fenny Lakes betwixt the two Cities Which newes being reported to Laurieta she againe converts her feare into hope and sorrowes into joyes as knowing well that dead bodies can tell no tales But the wisedome and integrity of the Iudges by the apparencie of Laurieta's crime in that of her Wayting-mayds flight againe command her to be racked but the devill is yet so strong with her and she with the devill that she againe indures the cruelty of these torments with a wonderfull patience with an admirable constancie and resolution and so couragiously and stoutly denying her crime and peremptorily maintaining her innocencie and justification her Iudges led by the consideration of the sharpnesse and bitternesse of her torments as also that they could finde no direct proof or substantiall evidence against her beginne to conceive and imagine that it might be the Wayting-mayd and not the Mistresse that had sent Belluile into another world and so resolve the weeke following if they heard nothing in the meane time to accuse Laurieta to release and acquit her which Laurieta understanding the torments which her limbes and body feele are nothing in respect of those contentments and joyes her heart and thoughts conceive and already building castles and triumphs in her heaâ—… and contemplations for the hope and joy of her speedy inlargement she in her appareâ—… and behaviour flaunts it out farre braver then before But she hath not yet made heâ—… peace with her Iudges neither have they pronounced her Quieta est And alas how foolishly and ignorantly doth the vanity of her hopes deceive and betray her whenâ—… the foulenesse of her soule and contamination of her conscience every houre and minute prompt her that God the Iudge of Iudges who hath seene will in his good time and pleasure both detect and punish as well her whoredome as her murther in heâ—… death And lo here comes both the cause and the manner thereof wherein Gods providence and justice doe miraculously resplend and shine For Laurieta being indebted to her Land-lord Mounsieur de Riehcourt as well for a whole yeares rent as for three hundred Livres in money which hee had lent her being impatient of her delayes but more of her disgrace le ts out that part of his house which shee held of him to the Deane of Carpentras who for his healths sake came to sojourne that Winter in Avignion and despairing of her inlargement and to satisfie himselfe beginnes to sell away her household-stuffe yea to the very Billets which she had in her Cellar which he retaines for himselfe whereof when his servants came to cleere the Cellar they removing the last Billets finde the earth newly removed and opened in the length and proportion of a Grave wherof wondring they presently informe their Master who viewing the same as God would have it hee instantly apprehended and believed that Laurieta had undoubtedly killed Belluile and there buried him when not permitting his servants to remove the least jot of earth he as a discreet and honest Citizen with all possible celeritie trips away to the Criminall Iudges and acquaints them herewith who concurring with Richcourt in his opinion and belief they dispeed themselves to his house and Cellar where causing the new opened earth to be removed behold they find the miserable dead body of Belluile there inhumanely throwne in and buried in his cloaths which causing to be taken off thereby to search his body they find himshot into the reines with two Pistoll bullets and his body stabd and pâ—…erced with sixe severall wounds of a Rapier or Ponyard they are amazed at this pitifull and lamentable spectacle and so resting confident it could be no other but Laurieta and her Mayd Lucilla that had committed this cruell Murther they very privately and secretly cause Belluiles dead body to bee conveyed to the prison and there when Laurieta least dreamt thereof expose it to her sight and in rough termes charge and crie out upon her for this Murther but this monster of nature and shee-devill of her sexe hath yet her heart so obdurated with revenge and her soule so o're-clouded and benumm'd with impiety as shee is nothing daunted or terrifyed with the sight hereof but
Honour on avarice not on Vertue on their owne gold not on the want of their Christian neighbours and brethren But enough of this and againe to our History Now if Christina for onely by that name I will henceforth intitle her have any comfort or consolation left her to sweeten the bitternesse of her Husbands death it is onely to see him survive and live in her sonne Maurice in whose vertues and yeares her hopes likewise beginne againe to bud forth and flourish when remembring what an earnest care and desire her husband had to see him a Scholler as she inherits his goods so shee will assume and inherit that resolution of his and although she love her sonnes sight and affect his presence tenderly and dearely yet shee can give no peace to her thoughts nor take any truce of her resolutions till shee send him from Morges to the Vniversity of Losanna some three leagues distant thence there to perfect his studies and learning the seeds whereof already so hopefully blossomed forth and fructified in him To which end her deepest affection and care having hearkned out one Deodatus Varesius a Bachelor of Divinity of that Vniversity whom fame though indeed most falsly had enformed her to be an expert Scholler and an excellent Christian shee agrees with him when allowing her sonne an honest exhibition and furnishing him with Bookes a Gowne and all other necessaries shee sends him away to Losanna charging him at his departure to bee carefull of his Learning carriage and actions and aboue all to make piety and godlinesse in his life and conversation the Regent of all his studies when with teares of naturall affection they take leave each of other Maurice being arrived at Losanna findes out his Tutor Varesius who receives and welcomes this his Pupill courteously and kindly but alas the hopes of Christina the mother are extreamly deceived in the vertues of Varesis because his Vices will instantly deceive both the merites and expectation of her Sonne or rather change nature and qualities in him and thereby shortly make him as vitious in Losanna as formerly hee was vertuous in Morgâ—… for I write with griefe and pity that to define the truth aright it was difficult to say whether he were more learned or deboshed a more perfect Scholler or prophane Christian for albeit the dignity of his Bachelorship of Theologie did hide many of his dissolute pranks and obscene imperfections yet his exorbitant deportment and industry could not so closely overvaile and obscure them but his intemperate affection to drinking and beastly inclination to drunkennesse began now to become obvious and apparant to the eyes and Heads of his Colledge yea to the whole Vniversity A most pernitious and swinish Vice indeed too too much incident and subâ—…ect to these people the Swissers but if it had beene immured and confined within these Rocks and Mountaines of Germany it had proved not onely a happinesse but a blessing to the other Westerne parts of the Christian world where it spreads its infection like an uncontrolable and incurable Gangrene yea like a most contagious and fatall pestilence so as in Varesius there was nothing more incongruous and different than his doctrine and his life his profession and conversation his Theorie and his Practice his knowledge and his will But if the head-springs and â—…onntaines be corrupted with this vice and drunkennesse no marvell if the Rivers and Streames of Common-weales bee infected and poysoned therewith yea if it be not debarred but have admittance and residence in the Schooles and Classes of Vniversities from which Nurses and Gardens of the Muses both the Church and State fetch their chiefest Ornaments and Members how can wee expect to see it rooted out from the more illiterate Commons whose grosse ignorance makes them farre more capable to learne Vice than Vertue or rather Vice and not Vertue sith there is no shorter nor truer art to learne it than of their Art Masters because the example and president of ill doings in our Teachers and Superiours doth not onely plant but ingraffe and root it not onely priviledge but as it were authorize it in us still with a fatall impetvosity with a dangerous violence and pernitious event and issue for if remedies be not to bee found in learned Phisitiâ—…ns it is then in vaine to seeke them in the rude and unlearned people and if the Prâ—…ceptor himselfe bee not sanctified it is rather to be feared than doubted that his Disciple will not This yea this is a most mournfull and fatall rocke whereon divers vertuous and religious parents have even wept themselves to death to see their children suffer shipwracke yea this beastly and brutish sinne of Drunkennesse is still the Devils Vsher and Pander to all other sinnes and therefore how cautious and carefull ought the Heads of Schooles and Vniversities bee to expell and root it out from themselves and to hate and detest it in others sith in the remisse winking thereat I may with as much truth as safety affirme that toleration is confirmation and connivency cruelty as we shall not goe farre to see it made good and verified in this ensuing mournfull History the which in exacting Inke from my Pen doth likewise command bloud from my heart and teares from mine eyes to anatomize and unfold it Difficultly hath Maurice beene three moneths in Losanna with Varesius but his vertues are eclipsed and drowned in vice yea he not onely thinks but holds it a vertue to make himselfe culpable and guilty of this his Tutors Vice of Drunkennesse wherein within lesse than three moneths hee proves so expert or indeed so execrable a Scholler in his beastly Art as both day and night hee makes it not onely his practise but his delight and not onely his delight but his glory Hee who before was so temperate in his drinke and conversation in Morges as for the most part hee wholly dranke water not wine now hee is so vitiously metamorphosed in Losanna as contrariwise hee onely drinkes wine no water yea and which is lamentable to remember and deplorable to observe in this young â—…choller hee drinks or to write truer devoures it so excessively as his Cups are become his Bookes his Carrowsing his Learning the Taverne his Studie and Drunkennesse the onely Art he professeth which filthy and inâ—…ous disease spreding from the Praeceptor to the Pupill from old Varesius to yoâ—…g Maurice hath so surprised the one and seizd on the other as it threatens the disparagement of the first his reputation and the shipwracke of the seconds fortunes and it may be of his life Now Varesius who will not bee ashamed to pity this beastly Vice in himselfe doth yet pity it with shame to behold it in his Scholler Maurice and yet hath neither the Grace to reforme it in himselfe nor the will or power to reprove it in him but in stead of stopping and preventing it doth in all things give way to the current and torrent of this
then and there dreamt that her Mistris Christina was cast into the well and drowned the which shee affirmed with many words and more sighes out-cries and teares which piercing into the eares and thoughts of the Bayliffe and Servants and into the very heart and Conscience of this our execrable Maurice they looke pale with griefe and amazement and he straineth the highest key of his Art and pollicy to keepe his cheekes from blushing for shame thereat and the better to hood winke their eyes and judgements from the least sparke or shaddow of this his guiltinesse herein he with many showres of hypocriticall teares prayes the Bayliffe that upon Hesters dreame and report the Well may be searched adding withall that it was more probable then impossible that those theeves who robbed his Mothers house might likewise bee so devillishly malicious to murther her and throw her into the Well which the Bayliffe seriously considering as first the maides dreame then the Sonnes request and teares hee instantly in presence of all those of the house as also of many of the next neighbours whom hee had purposely assembled Caused the Well to bee searched and sounded where the hooke taking hold of her cloathes they instantly bring up the dead body of his Mother and their Mistris Câ—…ristina the skull of whose head was lamentably broken and her braines pittifully dashed out with her fall All are amazed her servants greeve and her hellish Sonne Maurice weepes and cryes more then all the rest at this mournefull spectacle The Bayliffe carefully and punctually againe examines Hester if God in her dreame revealed her not the manner how and the persons who had thus throwne her Mistris into the Wel She answereth negatively according to the truth that she had already delivered as much as shee knew of that mournefull businesse When Maurice to shew his forwardnesse and zeale for the detection and finding out of his Mothers murtherers he pretends that he suspects Hester to be accessary and to have a hand herein But the Bayliffe common Councell of Morges having neither passion nor partiality to dazle and inveagle the eyes of their judgement finding no reason or ground of probability to accuse her or which might tend or coâ—…duce that way They free herwithout farther questioning her and so as it hath beene formerly remembred they all concurring in opinion that the theeves who robbed her had undoubtedly throwne her into the Well They give leave to Maurice to bury his breathlesse mother which hee doth with the greatest pompe and decency requisite as well to her ranke and quality as to his affection and duty and the better to fanne off the least dust or smoake of suspition which might any way fall upon the lustre of his Innocency hee at her Funerall to the eye of the world sheds many rivolets of teares But alas what is this to this his foule and execrable sinne of murthering his mother for although it bleere the eyes and inveigle the judgements of the Bayliffe and his associates the Criminall Judges of Morges yet God the Great and Soveraigâ—…e Judge of Heaven and Earth will not bee thus deluded cannot be thus deceived herein No no for albeit he be mercifull yet his Divine Majesty is too Just to let crimes of this hellish nature goe either undetected or unpunished We have seene this execrable sonne so bloudy hearted and handed as with a devillish rage and inhumane and infernall fury to drowne his owne deare and tender Mother and with as much cruelty as ingratitude to throw her from the world into a Well who with many bitter gripes and torments to the hazard and perill of her life threw him from her wombe into the world and the providence and Justice of God will not lead the curiosity of the Reader farre before we see this miserable miscreant overtaken with the impetuous stormes of Gods revenge and the fiery gusts and tempests of his just indignation for the same notwithstanding that his subtill malice and malicious subtilty have so cunningly contrived and so secretly acted and compacted it with the devill that no earthly person or sublunary eye can any way accuse much lesse convict him thereof as marke the sequell and it will briefly and truly informe thee how As soone as he hath buried his Mother his blacke mourning apparell doth in his heart and actions worke such poore and weake effects of repentance and sorrow for her untimely death as where divers others lament and grieve he contrariwise rejoyceth and triumpheth thereat and by her decease being now become Lord and Master of all he like a gracelesse villaine fals againe to his old carrowsing companions and veine of drunkennesse wherein hee takes such singular delight and glory as he makes it not onely his pastime and exercise by day but his practise and recreation by night And as God hath infinite meanes and wayes to scourge and revenge the enormity of our delicts and crimes so we shall shortly see for our instruction and observe for our reformation that this ungodly and beastly vice of drunkennesse of his which is his most secret bosome and darling sinne will in the end prove a ravenous Vulture to devoure and a fatall Serpent to eat out the bowels first of his wealth and prosperity and then of his life for it not onely takes up his time but his studie in so much as I may as truly averre to my griefe as affirme to his shame that hee levelleth at nothing more than to make it his felicity which swinish excesse and intemperancy as a punishment inseparably incident infallibly hereditary to that sin doth within three months make him sell away all his Lands yea and the greatest part of his plate and houssholdstuffe so his drunkennesse first but then chiefly Gods Justice and revenge pursuing his foule and inhumane crime of drowning his Mother makes him of being left rich by her within a very short time become very extreame poore and miserable so as he runnes deeply into debts yea his debts are by this time become so exceedingly urgent and clamorous as contrary to his hopes and feares when hee least dreames thereof hee is imprisoned by his Mercer and Draper for the blacks of his Mothers Funerall to both whom he is indebted the summe of three hundred crownes which is farre more than either his purse can discharge or his credit and Estate now satisfie When abandoned of all his friends his meanes spent and consumed and nothing left him to exercise his patience in Prison but Despaire nor to comfort him but the â—…rrours of his bloudy and guilty Conscience Hee is 〈◊〉 into a stinking Vault or 〈◊〉 where in horrour and detestation of his bloudy criâ—… the gloriâ—… 〈◊〉 of Heaven the Sun disdaines to send his radiant and glittering beames to comfort him so as he who was before accustomed to faâ—…e deliciously and as it were to swill and drowne himselfe in the best and most curious Wines now hee must content himselfe
day goes home to his house with him visiteth his daughter He findes her to be weake leane and pale the which serves the better for his turne to coulour out this his bloody purpose to her When if there had been any humanity in his thoughts any Grace in his heart or any sparke of religion or pietie in his Soule the very sight of this sweet this harmelesse this beautifull young Gentlewoman would have moved him to compassion and not with hellish crueltie to resolve to poyson her But his sinnefull heart his seared Conscience and his ulcerated and virulent soule had in favour of gold made this compact with the Divell and therfore hee will advance and not retire in this his infernall resolution Hee feeles her pulse casts her estate in an Vrinall receives thirty Crownes of her Father for her cure and so bidding her to be of good comfort he administreth her two pills three mornings following whereof harmelesse sweet Gentlewoman within three dayes after shee sodainly dyes in her bed by night Tivoly affirming to her sorrowfull Father and Friends that before hee came to her the violency and inveteracy of her consumption had turned all her blood into water and exhausted and extenuated all the radicall humours of her life which opinion of this base and bloody Italian Mountebanke past current with the simplicitie of his beliefe and their Iudgements So he burieth his daughter and with her his chiefest earthly delight and ioy Within three daies after that this sorrowful and lamentable tragedy was acted This monster this Divell incarnate Tivoly leaves Troyes and poasts away to Nevers where he ravisheth Masserina's heart with the joyfull newes and assurance of La Precovertes death and buriall of whom he receives his other hundred and fifty Crownes the which according to her promise shee failes not presently to pay him downe And heere againe they solemnely sweare secrecie each to other of this their bloody fact Wretched Masserina feasting her heart with joy and surfeiting her thoughts with content to see the rivall and competitor in her loves La Precoverte thus dispatched and sent for heaven Shee now thinking to domineere alone in her Harcourts heart and affection esteemes her selfe a degree neerer to him in marriage that so of his Sister shee may become his Wife For this is the felicity and content whereat her heart aymeth and the delectation and ioy wherein her desires and wishes terminate But her Husband Vimories life doth dash these ioyes of hers in peeces as soone as she conceives them and strangles them if not in their birth yet in their cradle She finds Nevers to bee a pleasant Citie and Pougges a delightfull little place to live in and when the Spring is past and the great confluence of people retired and gone home to bee a place of farre more safety for them than Lyons Yea and shee affects and loves it farre the better because here it was she first heard and understood of La Precovertes death which as yet for a time she closely conceales to her selfe Wherefore shee sends Noell her man to Lyons to his Master and by her letter prayes him speedily to come and live with her at Nevers which shee affirmes to him is a pleasant City and that there she attends his arrivall and company with much affection and impatiencie Harcourt to please his Sweet-heart-Sister Masserina leaves Lyons and comes to her at Nevers where with thankes and kisses she ioyfully wellcomes him telling him that these bathes of Pougges have perfectly freed her of her ache but in her heart and mind shee well knowes it is the death of La Precoverte and not those bathes which hath both cured her doubts and secured her feares They have not lived in Nevers and Pougges above three weekes since his arrivall untill they there but by what meanes I know not understand of La Precovertes death whereat hee seemes nothing sorrowfull but she extreamly glad and ioyfull And by this time which is at least a whole yeare since their flight and departure from Saint Simplician and Sens they in their Travells and other gifts and expenses have consumed â—…nd expended a prettie Summe of their money In all which time wee must understand that Vimory hates his wife and Brother so exceedingly as hee in contempt of their crymes and detestation of their trecherous ingratitude scornes either to looke or send after them but the only revenge which he useth towards him in his absence he pretends a great Summe of money to bee due to him from him and in compensation thereof seizeth upon the remainder of his lands and by Order of Iustice gathereth up and collects his rents from his Tenants to his owne use and behoofe Which extreamely grieves Harcourt and afflicts Masserina who by this time seeing in what obscurity and considering in what continuall feare and eminent danger they live in As their lascivious affections so their irregular desires and irreligious resolutions looke one and the same way which is to send her Husband and his Brother Vimory to Heaven after his wife La Precoverte yea so resolute are they in this their bloody intentions and desires as they wish and pray for it with zeale and desire it with passion impatiency And now their malice is growen so resolute and their resolution so gracelesse in the contemplation and conceiving of this bloody 〈◊〉 as they bewray it each to other Masserina vowes to him that she can reape no true content either in her life or conscience before of his sister he make her his wife Nor I replies Harcourt before my brother Vimorie be in Heaven and I marry thee be thy husband here in earth When as a bloody Courtisan and Strumpet she gives him many thanks and kisses for this his affection to her and malice to his Brother Vimory for her sake when working upon the advantage of time occasion and opportunity Shee tells him that in her opinion the shortest and surest way is to dispatch him by poison Harcourt dislikes her judgement and plot as holding it no way safe in taking away his brothers life to entrust and hazard his owne at the coâ—…rtesie of a stranger at which speech of his shee blusheth and palleth as being conscious and memorative of what she had lately caused to be perpetrated by Tivoly Therfore he thinks to acquaint and imploy his owne man Noell in this bloudy businesse and proâ—… him two hundred Crownes and fortie more of yeerely pension during his life if hee will pistoll his Brother Vimory to death as he iâ—… walking in the fields But Noell is too honest a man and too good a Chriâ—… to stabbe at the majesty of God iâ—…â—…ling man his creature and Image and so absolutely denies his Master and although he be a poore man yet he rejects his offer as resolving never to purchase wealth or preferment at so deere a rate as the price of innocent blood whereat his Master bites his lip for discontent and
be matched or thy afflictions and sorrowes parralleld when thou hast a Husband who neither feares nor serves God who will neither goe to Church or pray himselfe or permit or suffer thee to doe it and who is so farre from loving thee as hee loves nothing better than to hate revile and beat thee For aye me hee drownes himselfe and his wits in wine and keeps whores to thy nose spends all his estate upon them and upon Bawds Panders and Drunkards the off-scumme and Catterpillers of the world with whom he consumes his time and himselfe making night day and day night in these his beastly revels and obscene voluptuousnesse and upon whom he hath spent so much as hee now hath nothing left either to spend or maintaine himselfe and thee yea thy miseries are so great and thy afflictions and sorrowes so sharpe and infinite that thou hast no parent left to succour or releeve thee and which is lesse no friend who will assist or comfort thee Poore young woman and disconsolate sorrowfull wife that thou art it were a blessed happinesse and a happy blessing for thee that thou wert either unborne or unmarried Alas alas thy mother died too soone for thee when thou wert young and therefore shee cannot and thy father lives and is exceeding rich yet hates thee so much as he will not assist releeve thee And as all thy kinsfolks refuse to lend or send thee any comfort in these thy wants and calamities so those who professed themselves thy friends in thy prosperity will not now either see thee in thy poverty or know thee in thy misery When againe and againe looking on her pretty babe and giving it many tender kisses then her teares interrupting her words and her sighs againe cutting her teares in peeces shee continueth her speech thus And thou my sweet babe what shall I say to thee sith almost I can doe nothing for thee for I have no food to give my selfe how then can I give milke to thee and yet I love thee so dearly and tenderly that although thy unkinde and cruell father hate me so deadly yet I will starve before thou shalt want yea I will cheerfully worke and if occasion serve begge my selfe to death to get sustenance and necessaries for the preservation of thy life For live thou my sweet babe as happy as thy poore mother is miserable and unfortunate And if I die before thee as I hope I shall not live long say thou hadst a mother who loved thee a thousand times dearer than her own life and who was rich in care and affection though poore in estate and means to maintaine thee And if I leave thee nothing behinde me because I have now nothing left me either to give or leave thee yet I will give thee my blessing and leave thee heire to these my most religious prayers That God in his divinest favour and mercy will not power downe his wrath and punishments on thee but thou mayest live to be as happy in thy vertues as I feare thy father will be miserable in his vices and as true a servant and instrument of Gods glory as with griefe and teares I see he is of his owne disgrace and dishonour Neither is our vertuous Fermia deceived in the cloze of this her passionate and presaging speech towards her husband for he continues his odious and ungodly course of life both towards God and her and now as well in his fresh as his drunken humours makes it his practice to revile and his delight and glory to beat her who not withstanding yet thinking and hoping to worke some good in him through his sight of this poore infant his sonne Shee often shewes it to him and with sighs and teares prayes him to leave off this his sinfull life towards God and these his cruell courses and actions towards her selfe But he is still the same man yea he is so wretchedly debauched and vitious as he will not endure to thinke of making himselfe better and to say the truth I beleeve and thinke that the devill cannot possibly make him worse the wich his poore sorrowfull wife perceiving as also that her childe being now by this time almost two yeares old shee hath not wherewithall in the world to maintaine it meat or cloaths she is enforced to make a vertue of necessity and so works exceeding hard with her needle thereby to give life to her selfe and her pretty young sonne and yet say she what she will with sighs and doe she what she can with teares her husband still forcibly takes away the two parts of the poore profit and small revenewe of her labours both from her selfe and her little sonne Thomaso not caring if they starve or die so hee have to maintaine his vitious expences among his lewd Consorts and Companions yea her miseries and wants are now so great and her affection to her childe so deare and tender that when shee hath no meanes to set her selfe to worke nor can procure any from others then though to her matchlesse griefe and shame shee descends so farre from her selfe as shamefully and secretly in remote streets and Churches she begs the almes and charity of some well disposed people for their subsistence and maintenance But at length when she sees that her husband is informed and acquainted therewith and that he is so inhumane in himselfe and so cruell hearted to her and her sonne that he likewise takes these small moneyes away from her which in effect is to take bread out of their mouths and life out of their bodies then not knowing what in the world to doe or which way to winde or turne her selfe any longer to maintaine her son which by many degrees she loves better than her selfe she resolves to write to her father to take him home to him at Savona and maintaine him which she doth by this her ensuing Letter which carried him this humble language and petition FERMIA to MORON THe increase of my Husbands vices are those of my wants and miseries which are now growne so extreame and infinite that I have nor cloaths nor food left to maintaine my selfe or my poore little sonne Thomaso nor scarceto give life to us And considering that I am your daughter yea your onely childe me thinks both in Nature and Christianity that my father should not see me driven to these sharp and bitter extremities without releeving me especially because as heretofore so now my sighs begge it of you with humility for charities sake and my teares with sorrow for Gods sake Or if yet your heart will not dissolve into pity or relent into compassion towards me at least let it towards my poore and pretty young childe whom now with prayers and teares I beseech you to take from me and maintaine though not as a great part of me yet as a little peece of your selfe and whom God in his sacred power and secret providence may for his honour and glory reserve to be as much
to his villany he seemes to be wonderfully sad and passionately sorrowfull for the same and so requesteth the Criminall officers both in and about the City to make curious research and enquiry for the murtherers of his wife which they doe but this hypocriticall sadnesse and false sorrow of his though to the eye of the world it prevaile for a time yet to that of Gods mercy and justice in the end it shall little availe him so he gives her a poore and obscure buriall every way unworthy the sweetnesse of her beauties and the excellencie of her vertues Her father Moron hath speedy notice of this deplorable death of his daughter who considering how she had cast away her selfe upon so bad a Husband as Lorenzo though outwardly hee seeme to bewaile and lament it yet inwardly he much cares not for it and for her little sonne Thamaso his few yeares dispenceth with his capacity from understanding much lesse from lamenting and mourning for this disastrous end of his mother A moneth after the cruell murther and buriall of this vertuous yet unfortunate young woman Fermia her bloudy and execrable husband Lorenzo is yet so devoid of feare and grace as he goes to Savona to request his father in law Moron to give him some maintenance in regard he had no portion from him with his wife his daughter as also to see his sonne Thomaso But Moron by his servants sends him a peremptory refusall to both these his requests and so will neither see him nor suffer him to see his sonne but absolutely for ever forbids him his house Whereat Lorenzo all in choller leaves Savona and returnes to Genova where selling away his wives old cloaths to provide him new he seeks many maidens and widdowes in mariage but the fame of his bad life and infamous carriage and deportment with his late wife is so fresh and great that they all disdaine him so that utterly despairing ever to raise himselfe and his fortunes by mariage he forsakes and leaves Genova inrols himselfe a Bandetti and for many yeares together practiseth that theevish profession to the which we willl eave him and speake a little of his young and little sonne Thomaso Old Moron traines up this his Grand-child Thomaso very vertuously and industriously and at the age of fourteene yeares bids him chuse and embrace any trade he best liketh When Thomaso exceedingly delighting in limming graving and imagery he becomes a Goldsmith and in foure or five yeares after is become a singular expert and skilfull workman in his trade His Grandfather loves him dearly and tenderly and intends to make him his heire but Thomaso led as I thinke by the immediate hand and providence of God or out of his owne naturall disposition and inclination being of a gadding humour to travell abroad and see other Cities and Countreyes and having a particular itching desire to see Rome which he understood is one of the very prime and chiefe places of the world for rich and curious Goldsmiths Hee finding a french ship of Marseilles which by contrary winds stopt in the Road of Savona bound up for Civita Vechia very secretly packes up his trunke and trinkets and so goes along in that ship Now as soone as his Grandfather Moron understands hereof he very much grieves at this his rash and sodaine departure So Thomaso arrives at Civita Vechia goes up to Hostia by sea and thence on the River Tiber to Rome where hee becomes a singular ingenious Gold-Smith and thrives so well as after a few yeares he there keepes shop for himselfe and constantly builds up his residence In all this long tract and progression of time which my true information tels me is at least twenty foure yeares his father Lorenzo continues a theevish Bandetti in the state of Genova and Luca where hee commits so many Lewd robberies and strange rapines depraedations and thefts as that country at last becomes too hot for him and he too obnoxious for it so he leaves it and travelleth into Thoscany and to the faire famous Citty of Florence which is the Metropolis therof where with the moneys he had gotten by the revenewes of his robberies he againe sets up his old trade of a Baker in which profession he knew himselfe expert and excellent and here hee setleth himselfe to live and dwell takes a faire commodious house and lookes out hard for some rich old maiden or young widdow to make his new wife But God will prevent his thoughts and frustrate his designes and desires herein For as yet his bloudy thoughts have not made their peace with his soule nor his soule with his all seeing and righteous God for the cruell murthering of his old wife Fermia which as an impetuous storme and fierce tempest will sodainely befall him when hee least dreams or thinkes hereof yea by a manner so strange and an accident so miraculous that former ages have seldome if ever paralleld or givenus a precedent hereof and wherein the power and providence the mercy and Iustice of God resplends with infinite lustre and admiration and therefore in my poore judgment and opinion I deeme it most worthy of our observation as we are men and of our remembrance as we are christians Charles now Cardinall of Medicis going up to Rome to receive his hat of this present Pope Vrban VIII and Cosmos the great duke of Florence his Brother in honour to him and their illustrious bloud and family whereof they are now chiefe resolving to make his entry and aboade in that Citty of Rome to be stately and magnificent Hee causeth his house and traine in all points to be composed of double officers and Servants to whom he gives rich and costly liveryes and among others our Lorenzo is found out elected and pricked downe to be one of his Bakers for his owne trencher in that Iourney where in Rome he flaunts it out most gallantly and bravely in rich apparell and is still most deboshed and prodigall in his expenses before any other of the Cardinals meniall Seruants without ever any more thinking or dreaming of the murthering of his wife Fermia but rather absolutely beleives that as he so God had wholly buryed the remembrance of that bloudy fact of his in perpetuall silence and oblivion But the devill will deceive his hopes For now that Lamentable murther of his cryes aloud to Heaven and to God for vengeance Wherein we shall behold and see that it is the providence and pleasure of God many times to punish one sinne in and by another yea and sometimes one sin for another as reserving it in the secret will and inscrutable providence to punish Capitall offenders whereof murtherers are infallibly the greatest both when where and how he pleaseth for earthly and sinfull eyes have neither the power to pry into his heavenly decrees nor our minde and capacity to dive into his divine actions and resolutions because many times hee accelerateth or delayeth their punishments as they shall
and number lamented and pittied that so proper and noble a Gentleman should first deserve and then receive so untimely a death When after the Priests and Friers have here prepared and directed his soule hee aseending the Scaffold with some what a low voice and dejected and sorrowfull countenance he delivered this short speech That in regard hee knowes that now when he is to take his last leave of this life to charge his conscience with the concealing of any capitall crime is the direct and true way to send his soule to hell in stead of heaven hee will now therefore reveale that hee is yet more execrable and bloudy then his Iudges thinke or know or his spectatours imagine for that he not only hired Pierot his Fathers Miller to murther Marieta but also the Apothecary Moncallier to poyson his owne brother Valfontaine of both which foule and bloudy crimes of his he now freely confesseth himselfe guilty and now from his heart and soule sorrowfully lamenteth and repenteth them that his filthy lust and inordinate affection to women was the first cause and his neglect of prayer to God the second which hath justly brought him to this shamefull end and confusion that therefore he beseecheth all who are present to bee seriously forewarned of the like by his wofull Example and that in Christian charity they will now joyne their devout prayers with his to God for his soule When on the Scaffold praying a little whiles silently to himselfe kneeling and then putting off his Doublet hee commits himselfe to the Executioner who at one blow severed his head from his shoulders But this punishment and death of Quatbrisson suffiseth not now to give full content and satisfaction to his Iudges who by his owne confession considering his inhumane and deplorable poysoning of his owne brother Valfontaine they as soone as hee is dead and before he be cold adjudge his body to bee taken downe and there burnt to Ashes at the foot of the Gibbet which accordingly is performed And here our thoughts and curiosity must now returne poast from Rennes to Vannes and from wretched Quatbrisson to the base and bloudy Miller Pierot whom God and his Iudges have now ordayned shall likewise smart for this his lamentable murther on poore and harmelesse Marieta Hee is brought to the Gallowes in his old dusty mealy Suite of Canvas where a Priest preparing him to dye hee either out of impiety or ignorance or both delivereth this idle speech to the people That because Marieta was young and faire hee is now heartily sorry that he had not married her and that if he had beene as wise as covetous the two hundred Crownes or the Lease of his Mill which his yong master Monsieur Quatbrisson profered him might have made him winke at her dishonesty and that although she were not a true Mayd to her selfe yet that she might have proved a true and honest wife to him with many other frivolous words and lewd speeches tending that way which I purposely omit and resolve to passe over in silence as holding them unworthy either of my relation or the Readers knowledge when not having the grace once to name God to speake of his soule to desire heaven or to seeme to bee any way repentant and sorrowfull for this his bloody offence hee is stripped naked having onely his shirt fastned about his waste and with an Iron barre hath his legs thighes armes and brest broken alive and there his miserable body is left naked and bloudy on the Wheele for the space of two dayes thereby to terrifie and deterre the beholders from attempting the like wretched crime And the Iudges of Vannes being certifyed from the Court of Parliament at Rennes that Quatbrisson at his death charged the Apothecary Moncallier to have at his hiring and instigation poysoned his brother Valfontaine they hold the Church to be too holy a place for the body and buriall of so prophane and bloudy a Villaine When after well neere a whole yeares time that he was buried in Saint Francis Church in that Towne they cause his Coffin to be taken up and both his body and it to bee burnt by the common Hang-man and his Ashes to bee throwne into the aire Which to the Ioy of all the Spectators is accordingly performed GODS REVENGE AGAINST THE CRYING AND EXECRAble Sinne of Murther HISTORIE XXV Vasti first murthereth his Sonne George and next poysoneth his owne Wife Hester and being afterwards almost killed by a mad Bull in the Fields hee revealeth these his two murthers for the which he is first hanged and then burnt TO religious hearts there can nothing be so distastfull as Sinne nor any Sinne so odious and execrable as Murther for it being contrary to Nature and Grace the very thought much more the act thereof strikes horrour to their hearts and consciences Wherefore if this foule and bloudy Sinne bee so displeasing to godly men how infinitely more detestable is it then to God himselfe who made all living creatures to serve Man and onely created Man purposely to serve Himselfe But as Choller and Malice proceede from the passions of men so doth Murther from the Deuill for else wee should not so often and frequently see it perpetrated in most Countryes and Cities of the World as we doe A mournefull Example whereof I here produce to your view and serious consideration THe place of this History is Fribourg an antient city of Switzerland which gives name to one of the Divisions or Cantons of that famous and warlike country Wherein of fresh memory dwelt a rich Burger named Peter Vasti who had to his wife a modest discreet and vertuous woman named Hester by whom he had one only child a Sonne called George Vasti whom God sent them the latter end of the first yeare of their marriage and for the tearme of some ten yeares following this marryed couple lived in most kinde and loving sort each with other yea their hearts and inclinations so sympathized in mutuall and interchangeable affection as they held and reputed none of their Neighbours so rich in content as themselves for she was carefull of her Family and he very diligent and industrious to maintaine it both of them being chaste and continent in themselves very religious towards God and exceeding charitable affable and courteous to all their Neighbours and Acquaintance onely they are so temperate in their drinking as â—…ee would not and shee could not bee tainted with that beastly Vice of Drunkenâ—…esse whereunto that Countrey and the greatest part of that People are but too excessively addicted and subject So that had Vasti still imbraced and followed those Vertues in the course and conduction of his life hee had not then defiled this History with the profusion of so many sinnes nor besprinckled it with the effusion of so much innocent bloud nor consequently have administred so much sorrow to the Reader in perusing and knowing it but as contrary Causes produce contrary Effects so
cruell murther and robbery but the Divell is still so strong with them that with much courage and vehemency they continue and stand firme in their negative resolution and deniall But De Laurier being now found and knowne to have layen some seven weekes sicke in Adrians house aswel by the confession of Isabella his wife of Graceta her maid and of Thomas their Ostler as also of the Apothecary La Motte then his body found buried in his Orchard and Adrian and father Iustinian their sudden flight upon the same and now lastly his horse gold and jewels found upon them in Pontarlin by the officers of that Towne and his Sonne Du Pont were evidences as bright and apparant as the Sunne that in honour to justice and in glory to God from whom all true justice is derived these wise and grave Iudges of Salynes doe reject these denials of Adrian and father Iustinian as false prophane and impious and therefore that very instant adjudge them both to the racke at the hearing of which sentence they seeme to be nothing apalled and daunted but they being advertised that Isabella his Wife was likewise imprisoned for this fact she for her part by some friends of hers makes sute to the Iudges that she may be permitted to speake with her Husband and so doth father Iustinian that hee likewise may speake wirh her But the Iudges hold both of these their requests to bee vaine and impertinent and therefore flatly contradict and deny them So Adrian is first brought to the racke who though hee bee weake of constitution yet hee is still so strong in his villany as hee will not bee perswaded or drawne to confesse it but with much courage of body and animosity of minde suffers himselfe to bee fastned thereto whereof the Judges being advertised they in their discretion hold it expedient to delay his torments for a time and so first to make triall of father Iustinian to see if these his torments will make him lesse stout and more flexible in the confession thereof Wherein I write it with joy their judgements nothing deceive them for at the very first wrench of the racke God is so mercifull to his soule and so propitious to his new conversion and repentance that hee then and there confesseth this lamentable murther in all its branches and circumstances as wee have formerly understood Affirmes only himselfe and Adrian to be the Authors and Actors thereof Sweares that Isabella Graceta and Thomas were every way innocent thereof and had no hand or knowledge therein whatsoever Whereupon the Iudges send againe for Adrian and cause him a new to bee brought to the racke but first they hold it fit to confront him with his bloody companion father Iustinian who boldly affirming and constantly confirming all his former deposition to him in his face to bee sincere and true Adrian is amazed and daunted there at as also at the sight of the racke which was againe prepared and brought for him when the devill flying from him and hee casting his heart and soule at the sacred feet of Gods mercy hee there very sorrowfully confirmed all father Iustinians confession to be true and then falling on his knees hee with many bitter sighes and teares said againe and againe aloud that his wife his man and his man were as truly innocent as father Iustinian and himselfe were alone truly guilty of this foole and cruell murther and robbery of De Laurier When their Iudges asmuch rejoycing 〈◊〉 the detection and confession of these their crimes as they lamented and detested their perpetrations thereof They condemne them both to bee hanged the next morning and because father Iustinian had violated his sacred Order and Adrian the humane and Christian Lawes of Hospitalitie their bodies after to bee burnt to ashes So as soone as Father Iustinian was degraded of his Sacerdotall Order and Habit and committed to the secular powers hee together with Adrian were for that night returned to their prison and repentance where two Priests and one Fryer of the order of the Iacobyns prepare their soules for Heaven against the next morning It was a griefe to Isabellas heart to heare that he was guilty of this foule and lamentable murther but a farre greater torment and Hell to her minde to understand that hee must suffer death for the same and that she should neither see nor speake with him any more either in this life or this world Againe looking from him to her selfe as shee could not hope for his life so shee thought shee had some small cause or at least scruple to doubt and feare her owne in regard it lay at the courtesie or cruelty of her Husband and father Iustiniâ—…n for that as we have formerly understood they acquainted her with their intents and desires to murther De Laurier and shee revealed it not But yet neverthelesse in the purity of her heart and the can did innocency of her soule shee commits the successe both of her life or death to God 〈◊〉 not being able to sleepe away any part of that night for sorrow shee as a religious woman and a most vertuous wife passeth out the whole obscurity thereof in the brightnesse of heavenly ejaculations and prayer which from the profundity of her heart shee proffereth up to Heaven both for her Husband and her selfe Very early the next morning before father Iustinian and Adrian went to their execution Du Pont and at his request the Iudge repair to the Prison to them where hee and they enquire of him to what allâ—…w of gold and iewells they had taken from his dead father who tell him that in a letter which his Father had written to him 〈◊〉 â—…jon and the which they had suppressed and burnt hee therein mentioned the vallew of one thousand seven hundred crownes And being againe demanded by him what and where was become of all that great summe in gold and Iewels they freely and ingeniously tell him that one third part thereof was taken from them by him and the Officers of justice in Pontarlin and another third he should finde hidden in such and such secret places of their houses and for the other third part they â—…shed not to confesse and averre that they had since paid some old debts bought some new apparell and spent the rest thereof upon their whores and other oâ—… their voluptuousnesse and prodigalities So the Iudges and Du Pont speed away to Adrian and father Iustinians houses where they finde the gold and jewels according to their confessions the which together with the other former part taken from the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 both which amounted to some 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and honest judges deliver up unto Du Pont who received it from them with joy and thankefullnesse but as a good Sonne rejoyces â—…rre more at the now approaching deserved deaths of these two bloody and execrable wretches 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and Adrian the murtherers of his good old father De Laurier of whom some twenty and five
yeares before he had the happinesse to receive his life Some two houres after which was about tenne of the clocke in the morning these our two condemned malefactors are brought to the place of execution where a great concourse of people of Salynes and the country thereabout attend to see them finish the last Scene and Catastrophie of their lives The first who ascends the Ladder is Adrian who speakes little Only he takes it to his death that his decre wife Isabella his servant maid Graceta and his Ostler Thomas are as absolutely innocent of this murther of De Laurier as hee himselfe here againe confesseth hee is guilty thereof Hee prayes God to forgive him this foule fact and beseecheth all that are present to pray to God for him and for his wretched and miserable soule the which he knoweth hath great need and want of their prayers when casting his handkerchiefe over his face and privately ending some few prayers to himselfe hee is turned over Instantly after him rather Iustinian mounts the Ladder who in his lookes and countenance seemes to bee very repentant and penitent for this his soule and hainous fact the which hee praves God to absolve and forgive him hee here againe cleeres Isabella Graceta and Thomas of this murther Hee much lamenteth that hee hath so highly scandalized the sacred order of Priesthood in his crime and person and therefore beseecheth all Priests and Churchmen either present or absent to forgive it him when repeating some Ave Maries and often making the signe of the crosse hee was likewise turned over And thus was the miserable life and death of this impious Priest and wicked and bloody Host and in this sharpe manner did God justly revenge himselfe and punish them with shame and confusion for this cruell and lamentable murther Immediately after which execution of theirs the Iudges set our vertuous and innocent Isabella and her maid and Ostler free from their undeserved indurance and troubles whereat all the Spectators doe as much praise God for the liberty of the three last as they detest the foule crime and rejoyce at the just punishments of the two first If we make good use of the knowledge of this sorrowfull history the profit and confolation thereof will be ours and the glory Gods which God of his best favour and merey grant us Amen GODS REVENGE AGAINST THE CRYING AND Execrable sinne of Murther HISTORY XXVIII Hippolito murthereth Garcia in the street by night for the which he is hanged Dominica and her Chamber-maid Denisa poysoneth her husband Roderigo Denisa afterwards strangleth her owne new borne Babe and throwes it into a Pond for the which she is hanged on the ladder she confessed that she was accessary with her Lady Dominica in the poysoning of her Husband Roderlgo for the which Dominica is apprehended and likewise hanged HOw easily doth malice and revenge enter into our hearts and how difficultly doe wee expell and banish it thence what doth thus promise or rather threaten un o us but that it is a wretched â—…gne and testimony that the Devill hath more power with â—…s than God that wee more dearly afâ—…ct Nature than Grace and Earth than Heaven In many â—…nnes there is some pretence or shadow of pleasure 〈◊〉 in murther there is none except wee desire â—…hat it should bring griefe and repentance to our hearts horrour and terrour to our consciences and misery and confusion to our soules which indeed despight of our earthly policie and prophane prevention it will infallibly both shew and bring us But to shew our wickednesse in in our weakenesse through the â—…e subtilty and treachery of Satan we think wee act and perpetrate it so secretly that it cannot bee found out of men noâ—… detected or punished of God Wherein what 〈◊〉 fooâ—…es and â—…oolish mad-men are we thus to deceive and betray ourselves with false hopes and erroneoâ—… suggestions for although men may be deâ—…ded and not â—…ee 〈◊〉 yet â—…an God bee mocked or will hee be blinded and deceived herein O no his decrees and resolutions are secret and sacred and though invisible to our eyes yet our designes and 〈◊〉 are transparâ—…nt to his For hee in his all-seeing providence reserves 〈◊〉 himselfe the manner and time how and where to punish it Aâ—… reade wee this approaching History and it will confirme as much in the lives and deaths of some bloody and inhumane personages who were borâ—…e to honour and consequently to have lived more happie and died lesse ignominiously IN the rich and popuâ—…us Citie of Graâ—…ado which Ferdinand and Isabella King and Queene of Spâ—…ine Anno. 1492. so famously and fortunately conquered from the Moores there within these few yeares dwelt an ancient Lady named Dona Aliâ—…a Servâ—…tella who was descended oâ—… noble parentage and by her late Husbanâ—… Doâ—… Pedro de Carâ—…s dying a chiefe Commander in the West Indyes shee had two children a sonne and a daughter hee named Don Garcia and shee Dona Doâ—…nica hee of some twenty yeeres of age and shee of some eighteene hee tâ—…l of staturâ—… but some what hard favoured and shee short but eâ—…ceeding â—…ir and beautifull Their mother Cervantella being not left rich by her deâ—…eased Husband did yet bring up these her two children very honoâ—…rably and vertuously and maintained them exceeding gallant in their apparell though shee clad her selfe the worse for it for their sakes Shee observes her Sonne Dâ—…n Garcia to be of a mild disposition and very wittie and judiâ—…ious but for her daughter Dominica shee sees with feare and feares with griefe that her wit will come short of her beauty and her chastity of her wit In which regard and consideration shee loves him better than her and yet beares sovigilant an eie over her actions that as yet sâ—…e keepes her within the lists of Modesty and the boundes of obedience as holding iâ—…â—…rre truer diâ—…etion to make her more beloved than feared of her or rather that feare and love by â—…urnes might act their severall parts upon the Theatre of her youthful heart and resolutions There is an old rich gentleman of that City nobly descended tearmed Don Hippolito Sâ—…vino commonly knowne and named onely Don Hippolito aged of some threescore and tenne yeares and much subject to the Gowt a disease better knowne than â—…red and which loves rich men as much as poore men hate it And this old Hippolito in the Frost and Winter of his age falls in love with our â—…re young Lady Dominica and so by the Lady the Mother seekes her daughter in marriage As for the Mother shee loves Hippolito's gold better than her daughter doth his age and affects his lands as much as she hates his personage But Don Garcia at the often requests of his sister being at last vanquished by her imortuniâ—…e soone changeth his mothers opinion and good esteeme of Hippolito and so they all three give him the repulse and deniall But his affection to this deliâ—…ate fresh young beauty makes him