Chapter XXXII: French

Vin a foison tres-bon pour les Gendarmes,
Pleurs & soupirs plaintes, cris, & alarmes,
Le Ciel fer ses Tonnerres pleuvoir,
Feu, eau, & sang le tout meslé ensemble,
Le Ciel de Sol en fremit & en tremble,
Vivant na veu ce quil pourra bien voir.

English.

Plenty of Wine, very good for Troopers,
Tears, and sighs, complaints, cries, and alarums,
Heaven shall cause its Thunders to rain,
Fire, water and blood, all mixed together,
The Suns Heaven, quaketh and shaketh for it,
No living man hath seen what he may see then.

ANNOT.

This great plenty of Wine happened in the year 1634. at which time there was in _France_ such plenty of Grapes, that half of them perished for want of Vessels to put them in, and I remember very well, that then whosoever would bring a Poinchon Vessel, which is the third part of a Tun, might have it filled with Grapes for half a Crown, and that being my self at that time at a Town of _Burgundy_, called _Beaune_, where the best Wine of _France_ groweth, four of us had one Pottle of Wine _English_ measure for one half penny. The rest signifieth no more but the miseries that happened in _Germany_, by the Wars that the King of _Sweden_ brought in about the same time.