A Remembrance of the Honors due to the Life and Death of ROBERT Earle of Salisbury, Lord Treasurer of England, &c.

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Imprinted at London for Iohn Wright, and are to be sold at his shop neere Christ Church doore. 1612.

❧To the honoured belouers of the well deseruing worth of the late deceased Robert Earle of Salisbury, Vicount Cran­borne, Baron of Essindon, principall Secretary to his Maiestie, Maister of the Court of wardes and Liueries, Chancelor of the Vniuersity of Cam­bridge, Knight of the noble order of the Garter, and one of his Highnesse most honorable priuy Councell.

IN the height of admiration (which my thoughts conceiued of the de­serued worth of this late deceased nobleman) I imagined many deser­uedly boūd to offer to his name, signes of loue and duty in a high measure, which I now find contrary: Schollers I see (in these euill dayes) giue no luster to Nobillity, but neclegently suffer their renownes to consume with their bodies, the pens of long lasting poesie, writes not in times fore-head, vertues records to posterity, but carelesly giues way to enuy (that canker-worme to greatnesse) to eate out all remembrance of mortallitie: some (I [Page] know) will controulingly censure, and giue sentence of this my ouer-bold presumption, a taske more befitting a most excellent Ar­tist, but the reason of this my bold aduen­ture is, because I see the Muses lippes lockt vp, and all loath to enter into the discription of his honorable liues pilgrimage: be as it bee will, I stand patiently armed against the biting scoffes of selfe-conceited wits, with this rea­sonable excuse, I confesse ignorance, and with all giue them thus to vnderstand, I neuer ta­sted one drop of Parnassus fountaine, but yet care added to industrious trauells is able to performe matters of importance, your high worth may Iudge of my meaning, my loue to the deceased begot this boldnesse, therefore for his sake (whom you honored in life time) daine to affoord one cheerefull countenance to my humble affection, for I stand like poore blind Irus before the worlds lottery, casting in my lots either of good or euill fortune, where if I chance to light but vpon any reasonable prize of good liking, I haue my desire, but if [Page] all happen blankes, I depart ouer-loaden with burthens of discontent to my rustick cell, and their pining lye consum'd away in penance for this my presumption: so in duty I kisse my hand, and humbly take my leaue.

Richard Jhonson.

To the world.

IF in the depth of my intyre affection, long borne to the honored house of the Cecils, I take vpon me plainely to set downe, according to my simple vn­derstanding, the honorable augmented dignities of the late deceased Earle of Salisbury, and therin offend some peremtory censurers, I lay the fault vpon my presuming loue, and make it my priuiledge of excuse. The temporizing world (I know) full of enuy, in­gratitude & vnkindnesse, hath nursed vp fame-killing falshood (the greatest enemy to naked truth) (not va­lewing true worth) clamerously to wrong this de­sertfull statist, by detracting from his honor, times applauding graces, a cankering deisease (after death) subiect to greatnesse: but let blacke mouthed enuy be of a more fauorable carriage, for inocent truth before the worlds broad eye stands combatant, and will asu­redly defend, his honorable deseruings from his grea­test disparrages, Fame I see stands ready prest to giue the world notice of his worlds late aduancements, first, he had a time, a happy time, I may say, when de­sert in his prime of youth, won him a multitude of ho­norable friends, to continew to his age: for beeing (euen but in the bloome) of a vertuous inclination, he so tyed his Princes affection to his succeeding pre­ferments, that hee obtayned by instruction of his fa­ther the Lord William Burleigh the perfect rules of a well gouerned Statist. Now heare to make a short florish how by degrees hee climbed to the top of all these his high dignified titles and places of honour, he thus fortunatly proceeded: first vnto the age of six­teene yeares, he was onely tutord vnder his father and in his fathers house, without any other education: at [Page] which time of his age, by his virtuous mothers will and free guift, of thirty pounds yearely giuen to a col­ledge in Cambridge, he was sent in person to carry it, and be the presentor of the same him-selfe, where at that young age he commenced, according to the or­der of schooles, and was made maister of Art, after this, in short time, by the fauour of Queene Elizabeth hee was in the presence of the state royall, created Knight at Theobalds, and immediatly to his greater aduancements, in the yeare of our Lord. 1588. hee was sent ouer into France to accompany our then English Ambassador, Henry the great Earle of Darby, a grace fitting so noble a spirit as he was like to be, Englands buisinesse there ended, hee returned and in short time after, merited by his wel deseruing indeuours, many court honours, as vnder Secretary to Queene Elizabeth then principal Secretary of Estate, then one of the Queenes Maiesties most honorable priuy Councell, these dignified places, in the eye of his honored father, were put vnto his charge, which hee so wisely caried, that hee obtained euen the com­mon grace of the multitude, in which authorities he bore himselfe in the worlds equall balance, till the death of his father, and then it pleased his gratious Mistresse Queene Elizabeth, to bestow vpon him the office of the Maister of Wards and liueries, which hee inioyed with the rest, till the death of his said Soue­raigne: but our now royall King, comming to this his Imperiall kingdome, and looking into the worth of this man, weakned not any of these his aduance­ments, but added more strength to the same, by crea­ting him, first, a Barron, next a Vicecount, then an [Page] Earle, then Knight of the honorable order of the Gar­ter, one of the Councell of Estate, and lastly Lord High treasurer of England, the greatnesse of which places, planted His renowne in the feelds of succee­ding times. I must not ouerpasse his Chancellorship of the Vniuersity of Cambridge, that nurse of wit­decking schollors, whose learned pens might let the world know all his fame worthy actions, but time I see proues vngratefull, and would haue his memory buryed in forgetfulnesse. Awake sluggish muses, a­wake! In his life might thousands of noble obiects be­found wherein your noble spirits might towre high: It is a task onely fitting rare pens, and not for me, the worst of many thousands, to giue him that immortal­lity, which the basenesse of this worthlesse time will hardly afford, honour him, kind schollers, with some sonnets that liuing honored you, and cause him to liue, in dispight of repining fate, This is the richest Epithite my loue can bestow vpon him, he was borne honorable, experience made him wise, educatiō lear­ned, and these were his honors, yet his cares were great to maintaine them. He alwaies tooke nerest in­to his fauours such as were best aquainted with wis­doms secrets, I am loath to be long in my induction, least you grow weary, therefore I heare make my pe­riod, Wishing you to be contented, with my willing­nesse to please.

Richard Ihonson.

The Commemoration and Rights, due to the life and death, of the Right Honourable, Robert, Earle of Salisbury, late deceased, Lord high Treasurer of England, and one of his Maiesties most honorable priuie Councell.

THe originall of Nobility, may well bee compared to a small spring of water, whose good desert makes a gratefull King to inlarge to a great Riuer, for the which hee is bound to pay duty to the said King his Ocean, not vnfitly a­plyed to the late deceased noble perso­nage, Robert Earle of Salisbury, for that all his Springs and currants were so well ordered, that they paid their full due to the royall Ocean of his two Soueraignes, Quéene Elizabeth of famous memory, and our now liedge Lord and monarch King Iames of great Brittain: For euen both of them by a singular Judgment, inspired from God aboue, cast not onely an eye-sight but an in-sight into the behauiour and carriage of this man, vpon whom God had bestowed in all his actions a deseruing wisdom, in regard whereof they both gratiously bestowed vpon him many roomes of honor, but especially our now suruiuing & oue­raigne, who being a most prudent prince, retayned an in­ward examination of the strength and habillitie of his Judgment, concerning publick causes, wherewith he was plentifully inriched, and indued with the treasure of state-vnderstanding, as for example, he is a right Noble man, that ascends to the titles of Nobilitie, by vertuous actions [Page] merited, which is the calling that dignifieth greatnesse: It is not the rich reuenues, faire possessions▪ pleasant houses, many Lordships, and infinite riches, that can make a noble man, (all are externall actions, and subiect to the sodaine change of fortune▪) but to be wise, temperate, and discréete in all the actions of his life and conuersation: One vertu­ous exploit is not sufficient to make a m [...]n to be accompted euer after noble, but a cont [...]nuance in the same nor is eue­ry one that liueth vertuously, forth-with a Noble man, or a Gentleman: but he onely whose vertue is profitable to his King and countrey, and th [...]se and such like men, his Maiesty, by a secret in-sight of knowledge, estéemeth wor­thy to beare coates of armes, and in his meere affections vouchsafeth to giue them the inioy [...]ng of diuerse hono­rable priuiledges, for seruices done to his highnesse and the kingdome: coates of armes▪ thus gamed, rema [...]ne vnto their off-spring, to incite them, neuer to be weary of well deseruing, and doth not only teach to follow ancestors but also to guide successors; for William Lord Burleigh, Lord Treasurer to Quéene Elizabeth, and Father to this Honorable Earle deceased, was the first spring of this house graced, on whose life, spent in the benefit of his coun­try, may bee a subiect for all writers to excercise their pregnant wits on, and imploy their learned hands. The second assay of this houses honor, was partly by imitation, for vnder the wise, and state-experienced tutelage of the famous Councellor William Lord Burleigh before named, the late deceased Earle (his sonne) had his education, and vnder his wing sucked the Milke of deepe vnderstand­ing: by which helpe he so temp [...]red himselfe, that all his actions seemed to tend to nought but honor, vertuou [...]ly snatching at it, euen in his infancie: and as the vertuous children of Nobility, are the hopefull plants of a common­weale, so his youth (by his Fathers carefull instructions) tempered with wisdome, promised succesfull honor, for hauing attained scarce to the yeares of man, and newly [Page] entred into the world but his quality drew him into the knowledge of the world, his noble towardnesse begot him estimation and that estimation extended into the assured hope of succéeding greatnesse: for by a secret instinct of na­ture, helpt by continuall practise, taken from the councell of his Father, became so ready and apt in state imploiments, that he séemed to be like fish in the sea, in propper place: by which meanes, his wise-regarding Princesse Quéene Eli­zabeth, in her time, and in his Fathers dayes gaue him the first step to aduancement, made him her principall Se­cretarie, and a Counceller of estate, a burthen of high charge, but eased with the swéet imbracements of dignity: Béeing setled in this his first honorable place, his opinion began to haue some scope and liberty, and by the generall consent of the wisest States-men, obserued conuenient for this calling and office, in the managing of publick bu­sinesses, which was not dispatched without much care and contemplatiue study: but héere marke the protection of heauen ouer this man, whose forward spring had béene mixt with times biting malice, had not an equality in carri­age guided him, for in his first grace he was not onely de­priued of his fathers helpe by death, which was the con­ducter of his nature and fortunes, but also lost his deare and gratious Mistresse Quéene Elizabeth, in whose life consisted all his honors and earths happinesse. Those two great losses had béene sufficient euen to haue curbd the for­wardnesse of all these his noble preferments, by the deuou­ring téeth of enuy, which vpon sundry supposit [...]ons, was (euen then) whetted to make hauock of all his fortunes, here was his wisdom tride vpon the tutch, the world & time grew vnconstant, began to pick quarrels, misdeemd honest actions, and inuented false informations, yet was his cares so watchfull, that he saued himselfe from the subti­lest snare of secret enuy.

At this time the good Phisition, and saluer of all sores, our most gracious and prudent King possessing his royall rights, the whole state of England, and the gouernment [Page] thereof, came to this his owne Kingdome with such mag­nificence, as all Christendome admired if, here being setled with peace to the great ioy of vs all, with his cléere and pure shining iudgement, he qualified all occasions of dis­content, seuering drosse from pure gold, sollid pearles from liquid hailestones, manacles from bracelets, businesses of trouble, from imployments of honor, and like a perfect Phisition applied precious salues to euery sore of the com­mon wealth, adding honor vppon honour according to de­sert and calling: Amongst many others in the ranke of no­bility, graced by time and fortune, this late deceased Earle of Salisbury, by his wise carriage and honorable accom­plishments, (which here we omit) begot such an entier re­spect and inducing opinion of worth in the Kings regard­full mind, that his honors of estate, by degrées came to the height, first (not disparaging his former graces giuen by Quéene Elizabeth (but adding more luster to his bright spreading fortunes) it pleased the Kings Maiesty, whose wise and gentle disposition is to aduance the desertfull, first to giue him the honorable title of a Uiscount, then of an Earle, with many other promotions and offices of great­nesse and charge, of the which he returned contentfull sa­tisfaction to his King and his contry, and likewise being a councellor of estate to his highnesse, attending neere his royall person, offered vp his hearts trust in professed and true loyalty, as the secrets of many court businesses can verifie: processe of time, and his highnesse fauour, lifted him higher in his contries graces, for at last he was created Knight of the honorable order of the Garter, and to con­clude greatnesse was made Lord high Treasurer of En­gland, an Office of Estate answerable to his ingenious iudgment.

It was the Lord which gouernd all those his actions, & stil instructed his mind in the right way of preferment, it was the Lord that plast him in authority, in these honored offi­ces, to do right vnto all men without respect of persons, [Page] which waighty burthens thus laid vppon him, he careful­ly discharged, and with great wisedome dispatched all state businesses put vnto him, to the great ease of his roy­all soueraigne, and comfort of his contry: he still remem­bred what he was, wher he was, & what he should come to be, & hauing a continuall care of his high establisht honors, with the eyes of wisdome he gouerned his family, and re­tainers about him, where if hee saw sheltred vnder his wing any deceitfull Parasite, any male-contented mute­ner, any murmuring whisperer, any infringer of honesty, ambitious oppressor, or vnmercifull briber: if hee found any such about him, he swept them away like Cob-webs, because they were consuming cankers to his honours, bloud-suckers of his estate, and betrayers of his prospe­ritie.

Thus purging his house of these pestiferous [...]uilr, hee intertained men of truth, and placed about him such in of­fice, as feared God and loued the King: Oh thou mirror to succéeding times, thou hast left thy well gouerned qual­lities an example to posterity, and a neuer decaying orna­ment to all thy off-spring: But againe to our purpose: ver­tue was his lifes guide, and in his brest both Artes and law reposed, all his chiefest and principall indeuors were exercised in such actions, as aduanced the glory of Gods truth, the peace, the quiet, and the prosperity of the com­mon-wealth, and surely, that Nobleman, thus affected to his coun [...]ries good, is in a right way to the attaining of a good estimation, grace and fauour with all men, as well Prince and Péeres, as the common sort of people.

In like sort, this ground-worke of our subiect, I meane, this deceased Councellor of estate, fixed his whole resolution in the like purchase, vsing no indirect meanes, but confined himselfe within the bounds of reason and wisdom, from the which hee did not start nor stray, either for the loue of his owne priuate profit or pleasure, nor for the feare of purchasing any other subiects displeasure, hee [Page] neuer vsed sinister meanes, to wring and wrest away o­ther mens estates, nor deuised too gréedy taxations to im­pouerish the country, he enuyed no mans prosperity, nor maligned the honorable purchasers of his Princes fauours neither pr [...]ed into any mens fautes such as hurt not, or dis­turbd not the quiet of the state, but was sorry when any traytorus plot was wrought against his Princes safety, or the peace of the common-wealth, and had an honorable regard to men of high place and calling: Not-with-stan­ding all this there be some ignoble spirits, I meane the common monster with many heads, which seekes by scan­dalous speeches, to moue all his former fame, and to mipe the remembrance of his credit from the br [...]w of the king­dome, but surely in my mind it can be no other but the poy­sonous plots and deuises of rebellious Papists to take a­way the deserued honors of his name: The deuouring téeth of such wicked Uipers, the Papists I meane, which seeks to eate out the bowelle of this their natiue country, long hath his [...]illigence labored to beat forth, and many of them hath his wisdome and god-speeding pollicy discouered, abating the swelling pride, enuy, and sedition of these hat­chers of vnnaturall treasons, and brought them all to a swift distruction, giuing them titles of the worlds scan­dals, wh [...]n their liues were smothered vp in a helples re­pentance: These in my opinion be the asured libellors, but l [...]t enuy spit her gall, malice her poyson, and hell it selfe o­pen her gates to let out furies for this accursed sla [...]der, ver­tue and time will outweare it, and con [...]ecrate his noble life to lasting memory, for the opinion of the world is set­led in his deserued commendation, England his natiue country, the seate of his aduancements, can witnesse the contrary: w [...]o can but aplause his wisdome? Neighboring France affords him high deserued praise, whereas in Am­basage in the raigne of Quéene Elisabeth hee performed the honorable actions of a wise and well gouerned states man: for the good of Holland, Zeland Brabant, and those low [Page] country prouinces, Englands associats, hath his perswasi­ons with his prince preuailed, & they obta [...]ned men & mony. Ierland ouer-burdened with vntam [...]d rebells, hath beene like-wise succored through his councells, and cherisht in the lowest ebb, which country now blest with peace, liues in quiet subiection vnder our heauen▪ blest soueraine▪ whom God preserue. What shall I speake of Spaine and Italy, the one feard him, the other admired him and to locke vp al descriptions of worth, his name retayned a generall opini­on of the worlds loue. I neede not speake much of the excelent buildings and workes of great magnificence he adorned England with, as well in the country as h [...]are a­bout this wonder-famed citty of London, now fresh in me­mory, and visible in this age, all subiects of honored boun­ty, worth, and beauty, remayning to the inheritance of his noble posterity.

Yet let me a little speake of his Godly deuotion, charity, & compassion on the poore: who tasting of his annuall boun­ty are witnesses of his Christian conuersation, amongst all others, the guifts and yearely pensions, bestowed at Theo­halls, vpon aged, and ouer-worne Captaines, gentle-men by birth and calling, stands gratious in the worlds eye, for their lost blood, spent in the seruice of their Prince and country, hath he most honorably recompenced with suffici­ent mayntenance, with soft beds to rest their mained limbs vpon.

Many other memorable guifts haue proceeded from his liberality, to his eternall fame, and liues grace▪ which I leaue to the worlds consideration, to be a patterne to sur­uiuing greatnesse.

But now I am to forsake the remembrance of these his aduanced honors and wade into an Ocean of deepe sor­rows, lamentable sorrows for this generall losse, this deare losse of his worlds-beloued life: yet are we not to contem­plate thereon, it was diuine prouidence to haue it: Time hath a sweet course, and begets sodaine changes, he liu [...]d [Page] not to the period of nature, but was taken away, euen in his midle age, euen in the fulnesse of promotions, which se­uerity of death, when I thinke vpon, brings to my heart, ouer-ruling passions, and constraines me sighingly to say.

Ah me things pretious, and of purest prize:
For-sake the Earth, to mount aboue the skies.

And now I am to satisfie the world of his Magnanimity sh [...]wed at his liues last hower, as it was credibly reported in open audience, by a man of spiritual calling, and neere to him both in life and death: this man of worth liuing in al li­berty of pleasures, inuironed with all earthly contentment at that dreadfull hower feared not death: the memory of death had no bitternesse; no disquietnesse troubled his mind, he gréeued not to leaue his beautifull buildings, his rich and curious Architectures, his faire alurements and his many pleasures, his courtlike traines, gallant attendants and bare-headed petitioners. It was no sorrow to his heart to depart, and leaue them all behind, neither feared he the voyce of the world, mixed with scandall, which still makes misconstrued suppositions of great mens liues, the which commonly they are taxed with, but his pure white innocency dreaded not this putrifiing canker that créepes about the tombes of Nobility: reason and nature told him he must néeds goe, and appeare before that great King of all Kings, and receaue the reward of his liues pas­sages vpon Earth: Thus ran out his glasse, and faded his liues-sunne, being ouer-shaddowed with the Sable clouds of Death. When vpon this mouldy stage of the Earth, he acted the last part of his life before the eyes of the world; his departing-iesture moued sad compassion, his words seasoned with deadly sighes, bathed the hearers chéekes with distilling teares, making confession of his secret sins, calling for helpe of prayer, and like a hungar-starued Pil­grim, cryed to that honorable, heauenly houshoulder, say­ing, [Page] Oh good God, open the gates of thy mercies, to the greatnesse of my miseries, vnfould the ports of thy vnspeak­able pitty to my wearied spirit: receaue my soule into thy hands, and anoynt hir festred wounds with the blood of thy imaculate Lambe Christ Iesus▪ so yeelding vp the ghoast, hee left this world for a better.

Vncertenty of state, may well seeme strange,
When great men seated vp in high renowne,
By time and death, with vnexpected change,
Are thus from all their glories tumbled downe.
Then what are we but fooles of selfe conceat,
When our best ioyes stands in a wauering state.
Dull earthly drosse, wherein consistes thy pride,
Thy state, and greatest glory goes to ground,
Thy bed of wormes wherein thou shalt abide
Will be corrupted, and thou filthy found.
Our sun-shine hopes, thus time sweepes fast away,
This night we liue, but die before next day.

A Mourners passion, for the losse of the aforesaid Noble­man deceased.

THe world (I see) is waxt vnkinde,
And time forgets what time hath done:
And spightfull spight weares out of minde,
The doubtfull race great men doe run.
Where are our late world wondring Kings,
Those sheapheards of our English heard:
Which wonne by conquest famous things,
(In darke obliuion all inter'd)
This Age giues grace to few or none,
By princely tombes, or blasts of prayes,
To mouldy graue no sooner gone,
But all their worlds renowne decayes.
Though fames arch enemies do striue,
To canker greatnesse with times rust:
Yet spiritfull Poets may reuiue,
Their true deseruings from the dust.
Faire heauen, some supreame wit inspire,
Aford him grace and guift of pen:
To light a lampe at honors fier,
And memorize worlds worthy men.
Come Sol [...]n-Cicill take thy place,
Thou art inrich't by vertues gaines:
The world adornes thy name with grace,
Being honor'd in two Princes raignes.
Let Neighboring France & Bellgia speake,
With new-tamd Ireland, blest with peace:
What cares his laboring mind did take,
Their Romaine bondage to release.
A thunderboult to Englands foes,
A scurge to euery new-found sect:
A states-man whome our King had chose.
His highnesse safety to protect.
On studious lawes (oh happy man)
For countries good he plast his heart,
So worship, wealth, and honor wan,
By diligence and due desert.
His learned councels purchast grace,
Where men of greatest wisdome were:
And where he sat in Iustice place,
The law infringers, quakt with feare.
His presence promis'd good successe,
To all affaires he tooke in hand:
A cheerefull comfort in distresse,
A worthy States man of our land.
Most graue of words: most stout of mind,
In goodnesse constant, firme, and fast:
Not turn'd with euery fickle wind,
Nor sturd by threatning storme or blast.
A Target to the publick state,
Of Iudgment reaching, deepe and great:
That could of countries weale debate,
A learned Sage in Senate seat.
A Cicero for speech and lookes,
Wherein the pregnant world might spye:
The eloquence of Wisdomes bockes,
Perswading both by toung and eye.
His seruice for his Prince declar'd,
How wise a Councellor he was:
Whose worth was of as great regard,
As fined siluer is from glasse.
His wise behauiour, kinde and meeke,
His hearts true humblenesse did show:
No vertue was in him to seeke,
That might to his high honours grow.
By friendship, faith, and dealings Iust,
Hee purchast loues aplause in Court:
His vpright word, and speciall trust,
Gain'd loue likewise of meaner sort.
But what auaileth due deserts,
To liue in worldly fauours heere:
When life is mixt with ouer-thwarts,
Wee, earthly honours buy too deare.
O England thou hast many such
Rich Iems, thy state to glorifie:
We cannot praise them ouer much,
If we should write eternally.
Faier gold and pearle brought home from far,
In time consumes and wastes away:
Proud fame ataind by peace or war,
Doth quickly in this world decay.
The loue of friends, and fauours won,
Of noble, wise, and worthy wight:
Steales hence like shaddows of the sun,
Or gliding starres in moone-shine-nights.
Sat I not vnder honors hill,
Lately in calmy vailes below:
Safely from bitter tempestes still,
How ere the churlish winds did blow.
What sodaine storme then troubles me,
That had of late so sure a seate:
Hath winters blast blowne downe my tree,
That feard no peircing sommers heat.
Oh tell hard destynies, why you did,
Thus enuy my most happy state:
In fury now, (oh heauen) forbid,
I should cry out on partiall fate.
Or braule, and childe with churlish death,
Considering, hence we all must goe:
What beareth life or draweth breath,
Are surely borne to die we knowe.
Earle Cicills gone: The passing bell,
Hath rung his liues last rufull end:
The graue (God wot) we see full well,
Hath closed vp my fortunes friend.
Not I alone, lament this losse,
For many mourners more there be,
That beares this all too heauy crosse,
Of vnrecured griefe with me.
Life is vn-certaine, life must die,
Both high, and low, of life takes leaue:
What comes from earth, in earth must lie,
Or fondly we our selues deceaue.
Then worldlings waile the dead no more,
His soule liues pure, and mounts the sky:
Lord Cicell did but goe before,
To learne vs all the way to dye.
Nor muse to see this man intomb'd,
All flesh (by course) to ground must goe:
Death calls for life, and we are doom'd,
To pay the det to earth we owe.
He left the world with worlds good will,
Though world did hould his honors deare:
For whome his friends sit mourning still,
With cheekes bedewd with many a teare.
But yet before his leaue he tooke,
And death made conquest of lifes end:
To heauens high throne his eies did looke,
And thither did did his soule commend.
When the sharpe paines of death arose,
And sicknesse fury did increase:
He held vp hands, and eyes did close,
And lamb-like went away in peace.
Me thinkes I heare heart mouing cries,
Where sadnesse to a fullnesse growes:
Me thinkes I see how blobred eyes,
Pasions of pining sorrow showes.
Be still, and mute, each house of ioy,
Ope wide your doores, giue griefe some place:
Turne solace into sower anoy,
And let teares staine, each cheerful face.
Let gladsome mirth goe where it please,
Make bitter moane your welcome guest:
Let all delights, and wished ease,
Deny to tutch one trubled brest.
Let sports, and pleasures silent be,
And name no word of earthly blisse:
For heauy hearts doe best agree,
Where death, distresse, and dollor is.
In saddest sort, prepare to heare,
Of wo, that did through death befall:
This tale perchance, may change your cheare
And make your hearts to mourne withall.
Honor lies dead who late aliue,
Did purchase fame and Lordlike praise:
And still for honors gaine did striue.
By sundry duties many wayes.
What want of him haue we the while,
To loose this high priz'd Iewell now:
Whose wisdome shonne amidst this Ile,
Like pearles vppon a Princes brow.
Come Schollers all ope sorrowes doore,
With clasped hands true signes of woe,
Your Muses patrons losse deplore,
For greefe ore reasons bankes do flow.
Come Soldiers and with Drum and fife,
Sound out his deare but last adew:
The balme of your decayed life,
By death hath changd to deathes pale hew.
Cold death hath wrought vs all this wrong,
By wronging nature thus to soone,
With vs he might haue liued long,
Had not Deathes Tyrany beene showne.
Thus we behould how times doe passe,
All Adams sonnes such ends must haue:
We fade away like sommers grasse,
To day on foote, to morrow in graue,
Best hopes of him, when people had,
Came sickenesse and his life imbrast:
Death followed, and with mould him clad,
And so in Heauen his soule is plast.
And now full low, in earth he lies,
(Which late sat high, and bore great sway)
Till he, and we, (made pure) shall rise,
To heare our doomes at Iudgement day.
So, ending here with ioy at last,
His soule on earth we could not keepe:
In Paradice is Cicill plast,
And there in Abrahams brest doth sleepe.

Death is the doore to life, therefore let all men so liue, that they may driue death out at the same doore, and so liue eternally.

The funeral of the said Earle of Salisbury holden at Hatfield in June last, is heere described in a short for­mall proceeding order.

BEing at Hatfield in Hartfordshire in Iune last, my eye presented to my heart, the worlds last farewell giuen to the right honorable the late Earle of Salsbury, A due, that blood, consanguinity, and affinity customably bestowes vpon the deceased, the sight whereof settled within me many priuate sorrowes for the losse of so great a subiect, whose late liuing honors carried such a sway in his contry, that in a sad passion it made me accuse deathes partiallity, in taking of his life, but smothering griefe for a time in silence, I stood amazedly beholding a traine of noble personages, in sable habits trayling on the ground, witnesses, and presenters of Englands hea­uinesse, for so general a losse: black cloudy garments outwardly equalized their inward sorrowes, and this following (as neere as I can remember) was the or­der of the mourning passengers.

First, diuers Marshalls to make roome,

Next certaine poore men and woemen.

Then seruants of Gentlemen, Esquires & Knights.

Then Standerd-bearers with banners of armes.

Then messengers of the Chamber.

Then some of the Kings Maiesties groomes.

Then Noblemens seruants.

After them diuerss officers of the Court,

Then Heralds of Armes with other Ensignes of honor.

Then followed my Lords owne seruants,

Then Knightes and Gentlemen his retainers,

Then the Kings Solicitor, Councell, and Atturney generall.

Then Barrons of the law with some Iudges.

Then the sonns of Noble men and Earles.

Then Lord Barons allied to this deceased Earle,

Then Earles of his affinity and Kindred.

Then principall Herralds with Banners of his coat of armes.

Then his Hearse couered with black veluet, his Helme and Crest with diuers Scutchions belonging to his honorable house.

Then after the Hearse as principall mourner the Right honorable William now Earle of Salisbury the only sonne to the deceased noble-man.

Being thus with honor carried to his graue, decla­red the greatnesse of his estate, how much fauored of his prince, esteemed of his equalls, and beloued of his followers. Time, out of my remembrance, can neuer put away his high worth, whom I will honor the longest day of my life, and in the closet of my heart place his perfections to my priuate considera­tion, and now to make a conclusion of all these my loues labours, (as duty binds me) I end.

[...] all subiect to change and times enuie.

The misery of Pollicie.

MAn hath his time, whom fortune will aduance,
Where sodain falls, in gilty harts breeds doubt:
Some rise aloft by others hard mischance,
Thus fortunes restlesse wheele runs still about,
True wisdome sees how times of men do passe,
When fortunes change turnes back promotions glasse.

The misery of Greatnesse.

Enuie, attends vpon a great mans state,
Where in his brest ambitious bellows blow:
And then he climbes aboue his wits conceate,
Disdaining much to cast his eyes below.
Yet all he hath is vpon hazard set,
When mounting high, he falls in dangers net.

The misery of Schollers.

The Scholler, if but poore, hees thought a wretch,
His good desert is held in high disdaine:
The grosest foole is wise, if he be rich,
And wisdom flowes from his dull-sotted braine.
The rarest spirit, hath here but credit small,
And he most grast that plots his neighbors fall.

The misery of Lawyers.

The Briberous mind makes still a God of Gould,
He scornes to plead without a good reward,
Thus poore-mens sutes are bought and sould,
Whilst sillken avarice hath best regard,
He hath no feare of Gods consuming curse,
That pulls with paines, gould from the poore mans purse.

The misery of Time-pleasers.

Ingratitude thou ill, ill fauored ill,
In vpstart thoughts thou buildest Castles strong:
Whilest shame deuoures thy temporizing will,
And shewes the fillthy vilenesse of thy wrong,
That mind wherein ingratitude doth dwell,
For illnesse coequalls the ills of hell.
FINIS.

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