The lamentabe complaint of Fraunce, for the death of the late King Henry the 4. who was lately murdred by one
Fraunces Ravilliacke, borne in the towne of Angolsem, shewing the manner of his death, and of the election and Proclayming of the new King Lewis,
the 13. of that name, being a childe of 9. yeeres of age. To a new tune
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F Raunce that is so famous,
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and late in joyes abounded,
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May now lament the losse of him:
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that mischiefe hath confounded.
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Their thrice renowned King,
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that Souldier brave and bolde,
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In peace and wars so well belov'de
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lyes clad in earthly molde.
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All kingdomes come and mourne,
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for this same sad mischaunce:
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For wee have lost our Countries King,
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and flower of famous fraunce.
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The bloudy hand that wrought,
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and hart that gave consent:
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Now makes more eies in France to weep:
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then ever did lament.
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More sighes [an]d sobes was never heard,
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then be in Fraunce this day,
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For every one now mourning sits:
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this pleasant month of May.
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No joye, no hearts delight,
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but death and bloudy deedes,
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In every Coast of famous Fraunce:
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much griefe and sorrow breedes.
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In May the thirteenth day,
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it pleased this royall King:
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To make his Wife a Crowned Queene,
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which was a princely thing
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Who then in Triumph rode
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along fayre Paris streets,
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Whom all the Lordes & peeres of Fraunce
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in joyfull manner greetes.
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And all the streetes along,
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whereas the Queene did ride.
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Were like the walles of Paradice,
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bedeckt on every side:
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The royall King himselfe,
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the Dolphin his young sonne:
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The lordly Prelates of that land,
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and Barrons many one.
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With all the states of Fraunce:
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there honored Henries Queene,
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More stately triumphes never was,
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within that Countrie seene.
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But soone thiese glories vanish't,
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for death put in his hand,
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And in lesse time then forty houres
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made Fraunce a wofull land.
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This noble King god wot,
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supposing all good friends:
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The following day for pleasures sake:
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a journey foorth intends.
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Wherein his Coatch he rides,
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some of his lordes with him,
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Along renowned Paris streetes,
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being then deckt out most trim.
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The people cryed with joy:
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God save our Royall King,
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The presence of your Majestie:
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rejoycing love doth bring.
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The People throngd so fast,
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about him in the streetes,
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That hardly he could passe along:
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such numbers did he meete.
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Amongst so many friends,
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a Judas hand there was,
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That turnd the cheerefull flower of france
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to fading withered grasse,
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Two Coatches by hard chaunce.
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his graces Passage stayde,
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A time whereon his gentle life,
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by murder was betrayde.
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The Traytour t[hat] three times,
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before had mist his ayme,
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And could not in his royall bloud:
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his cursed fingers stayne.
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Now desperatly thrust foorth:
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unto his coatches side,
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And gave him there, 2 mortall wounds,
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by which, the King soone dyed,
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A cursed knife it was,
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which did this bloudy deede,
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But ten times cursed be the cause,
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that did this mischiefe breed.
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The wounded King cryed out,
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then with a fainting breath:
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Oh, save his life till hee reveale.
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the plotters of my death.
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The Traytour being stayed,
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was so offence bereaven,
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That presently for this vilde deede:
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he thought to purchase heaven.
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Some led this villaine thence,
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and some, the King convaide:
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Unto his Pallace mournfully,
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in bloudy Robes arrayde.
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A native frenchman borne,
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this wretch is knowne to be:
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Bred in the Towne of Angolsem,
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a Courtier in degree.
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Fraunces Ravilliacke namde,
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in passed time a Fryer,
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Maynteyned long about this court,
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to accomplish his desire.
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But who the causers be:
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and chiefest in this crime,
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By wisedome of the peeres of Fraunce:
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wilbe found out in time.
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Meane while the villanes teeth,
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are pulde out every one:
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Least he should bite cleane out his tongue,
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and so no trueth be showen,
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His nayles likewise pincht off,
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least he should teare it out,
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And speachles thus should lose his life:
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and no wayes cleare this doubt
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But let us speake againe,
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of this the bleeding King,
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Who entring at his pallace gate:
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death broke his life heart string.
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Even in a Bushops Armes,
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he yeelded up his breath,
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And said I die true Christian King,
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sweete lordes revenge my death.
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His Queene, his sonne, and peeres,
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with wringing handes made mone,
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And sayde, if God be not our friende,
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our states be overthrowne.
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The heaviest day in Fraunce,
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this is that ever was seene,
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His death now makes an orphant Prince,
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and eke a widdowed Queene.
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Yet wisedome so prevailde,
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amongst the lordes of Fraunce,
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That by the gracious helpe of God,
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they salved this mischaunce.
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The next day in the morne:
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fower Cardinalls of estate,
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And Princes of the Kings owne bloud,
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this buisines did debate.
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To establish love and peace:
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within this mournefull land,
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They there proclaym'd the Dolphin King
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in Paris out of hand.
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A childe of nine yeeres olde,
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being true and lawfull heyre,
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The onely hope the Kingdome hath,
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to rid them from all feare.
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Up to his fathers throne,
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the Dolphin straight was led,
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In Purple Robes most gorgeously:
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with sumptuous Jewells spread.
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Whome, in the peoples hearts,
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did move such present joy,
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That every one in gladsome sort,
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did cry vi, va, le roy.
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Yea every one doth pray,
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now dwelling in the land,
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That like his father he may prove,
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an Impe of Mars his band.
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But three such dayes in Fraunce,
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no age hath ever knowne,
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Where present joy gayn'd sudden woe,
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yet woe to joy is growne.
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One day a Crowned Queene,
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the next a murdred King,
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The third a Prince in joy proclaymde,
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a setled peace to bring.
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But God defend each Land,
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from such a suddaine chaunce,
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As lately hath befalne the King,
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of fayre renowned Fraunce.
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FINIS
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