his consent, and to know the Duke's mind likewise ; well foreseeing that the Duke of Orleans, by whom the Duke of Britain was wholly led, taking himself to be upon terms irreconcileable with him, would admit of no treaty of peace. Whereby he should in one, both generally abroad veil over his ambition, and win the reputation of just and moderate proceedings; and should withal endear himself in the affections of the king of England, as one that had committed all to his will; nay, and which was yet more fine, make faith in him, that although he went on with the war, yet it should be but with the sword in his hand, to bend the stiffness of the other party to accept of peace; and so the king should take no umbrage of his arming and prosecution; but the treaty to be kept on foot to the very last instant, till he were master of the field.

Which grounds being by the French king wisely laid, all things fell out as he expected. For when the English ambassador came to the court of Britain, the duke was then scarcely perfect in his memory, and all things were directed by the Duke of Orleans, who gave audience to the chaplain Urswick, and upon his ambassage delivered, made answer in somewhat high terms: that the Duke of Britain having been an host, and a kind of parent or fosterfather to the king, in his tenderness of age and weakness of fortune, did look for at this time from King Henry, the renowned king of England, rather brave troops for his succours, than a vain treaty of peace. And if the king could forget the good offices

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of the duke done unto him aforetime; yet, he knew well, he would in his wisdom consider of the future, how much it imported his own safety and reputation, both in foreign parts, and with his own people, not to suffer Britain, the old confederates of England, to be swallowed up by France, and so many good ports and strong towns upon the coast be in the command of so potent a neighbour king, and so ancient an enemy: and therefore humbly desired the king to think of this business as his own: and therewith brake off, and denied any farther conference for treaty.

Urswick returned first to the French king, and related to him what had passed. Who finding things to sort to his desire, took hold of them, and said; that the ambassador might perceive now that, which he for his part partly imagined before. That considering in what hands the duke of Britain was, there would be no peace but by a mixed treaty of force and persuasion: and therefore he would go on with the one, and desired the king not to desist from the other. But for his own part, he did faithfully promise to be still in the king's power, to rule him in the matter of peace. This was accordingly represented unto the king by Urswick at his return, and in such a fashion, as if the treaty were in no sort desperate, but rather stayed for a better hour, till the hammer had wrought and beat the party of Britain more pliant. Whereupon there passed continually packets and dispatches between the two kings, from the one out of desire, and from the other out of dissimulation, about the negociation of peace. The French king mean while invaded Britain with great forces, and distressed the city of Nantz with a strait siege, and, as one, who though he had no great judgement, yet had that, that he could dissemble at home, the more he did urge the prosecution of the war, the more he did, at the same time, urge the solicitation of the peace. Insomuch as during the seige of Nantz, after many letters and particular messages, the better to maintain his dissimulation, and to refresh the treaty, he sent Barnard D'Aubigney, a person of good quality, to the king, earnestly to desire him to make an end of the business howsoever.

The king was no less ready to revive and quicken the treaty; and thereupon sent three commissioners, the abbot of Abingdon, Sir Richard Tunstal, and chaplain Urswick formerly employed, to do their utmost endeavours to manage the treaty roundly and strongly.

About this time the Lord Woodvile, uncle to the queen, a valiant gentleman, and desirous of honour, sued to the king that he might raise some power of voluntaries underhand, and without licence or passport (wherein the king might any ways appear) go to the aid of the Duke of Britain. The king denied his request, or at least seemed so to do, and laid strait commandment upon him, that he should not stir, for that the king thought his honour would suffer therein, during a treaty, to better a party. Nevertheless this lord, either being unruly, or out of conceit that the king would not inwardly dislike that, which he would not openly avow, sailed directly over into the Isle of Wight, whereof he was governor, and levied a fair troop of four hundred men, and with them passed over into Britain, and joined himself with the duke's forces. The news whereof, when it came to the French court, put divers young bloods into such a fury, as the English ambassadors were not without peril to be outraged. But the French king, both to preserve the privilege of ambassadors, and being conscious to himself, that in the business of peace he himself was the greater dissembler of the two, forbad all injuries of fact or word against their persons or followers. And presently came an agent from the king, to purge himself touching the Lord Woodvile's going over; using for a principal argument, to demonstrate that it was without his privity, for that the troops were so small, as neither had the face of a succour by authority, nor could much advance the Britain affairs. Το which message although the French king gave no full credit, yet he made fair weather with the king, and seemed satisfied. Soon after the English ambassadors returned, having two of them been likewise with the Duke of Britain, and found things in no other terms than they were before. Upon their return, they informed the king of the state of the affairs, and how far the French king was from any true meaning of peace; and therefore he was now to advise of some other course; neither was the king himself led all this while with credulity merely, as was generally supposed; but his error was not so much facility of belief, as an ill measuring of the forces of the other party.

For, as was partly touched before, the king had cast the business thus with himself. He took it for granted in his own judgement, that the war of Britain, in respect of the strength of the towns and of the party, could not speedily come to a period. For he conceived, that the counsels of a war, that was undertaken by the French king, then childless, against an heir apparent of France, would be very faint and slow; and, besides, that it was not possible, but that the state of France should be embroiled with some troubles and alterations in favour of the Duke of Orleans. He conceived likewise, that Maximilian, king of the Romans, was a prince, warlike and potent; who, he made account, would give succours to the Britains roundly. So then judging it would be a work of time, he laid his plot how he might best make use of that time for his own affairs. Wherein first he thought to make his vantage upon his parliament; knowing that they being affectionate unto the quarrel of Britain, would give treasure largely; which treasure, as a noise of war might draw forth, so a peace succeeding might coffer up. And because he knew his people were hot upon the business, he chose rather to seem to be deceived, and lulled asleep by the French, than to be backward in himself; considering his subjects were not so fully capable of the reasons of state, which made him hold back. Wherefore to all these purposes he saw no