Meete Our Royal Couſin, Louis XIII of France. You may already have noticed ye familiaritye between us.
The other day, Louis ſaid to himſelf, "I fancy a little Chocolate." And ſo, he was ſo kind to call upon Henrietta and We at our retreat in Dunfermline Caſtle, where we hadde Chocolate and diſcuſsed polytiques.
What! We were appalled to heare, that ſome of Our Royal Subjects, in ye American colonyes, were badde-mouthinge Our Royal Couſin and his kin. Pray, tell us more, (ſaid We) and he did recount to Us, that there was little a ſlur, no matter how meane, which was ſaved in denigratynge Our Couſin, and moſt in general, ye French.
We uttered our Royal ſcoff, however, when he told us ye moſt amuſing Jeſt: They claymed ye French were cowards!
Wherever they founde ſuch a fooliſh concept, I ſhall attribute to ye fevers of ſuch tropicall latitudes. Indeede, amongſt ye moſt victorious Nations of our tyme, in what cometh to courage, God's Wounds! Ye French have few rivals. Have we not been at warre with them manye tymes, and yet we know notte who was moſt meritorious of the two, ſo verily conteſt'd was ye fighte?
Yet indeede (ſayeth He) they inſiſt that we "ſurrender" at everye chaunce we gette. What, (ſays I) with ye cruel warre You lead againſt ye mighty Spaniard ſtill, and yet come out unſcathed? Indeede (replieth He) they ignore all reaſon; and when ſuch examples are quoted, as a manner of illuſtrating them, they yet claime that thoſe were not victories, and that we loſt all ye warres, and that we exiſt thankes to them.
At this pointe, I knew not what to ſay. How could men be turned fools to ſuch an extente? I ſhall ſpeak to ye Royal Apothecarye, who is a Doctor of Physick, and telle him to preſcribe ſome remedye to my ſubjects acroſs ye vaſt Sea.
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