AN ELEGIE ON THE MVCH LAMENTED DEATH OF THE RIGHT HONORABLE Sir Arthur Chichester Knight, Lo. Baron of Belfast, Lo. high Treasurer of Ireland, one of the Lords of his Maiesties most Honorable Priuie Counsell, and of the Counsell of Warre.
Honor sequitur fugientem.
By ALEX. SPICER.
Printed at London by M.F. for Robert Bird, and are to be sold at his shop in Cheapeside at the signe of the Bible. 1625.
TO THE MOST NOBLE and most Illustrious George Duke of BVCKINGHAME his Grace, &c.
SJr, like
Parrhasius, J haue thought it meete
To draw the worke, J wrought on, in a
sheet:
If your quicke eye discerne vnhandsome feature,
Where 'twas my part to limne a comely creature:
Daigne to beleeue (my Lo.) my hand did shake,
Because much sorrow made my heart to ake.
Be then your gracious patience as the vaile
To couer that, wherein my skill did faile.
Your Graces most submissiue and deuoted Orator. ALEX. SPICER.
An Elegie on the death of my Lord Chichester.
DEad? and before we heard him sicke, incline
To draw his breath towards that vtmost line,
Which leads to earth? this moues me to enquire,
Why noble
Belfast should so soone expire.
T'was thus, death knew that such a gallant pray
Could not be had vnles 'twere snatcht away:
And therefore strucke him in a deadly hower,
Beyond recouerie by Physitians power.
But we are bound to fame which keepes aliue
This Noble-man, whom death would not repriue.
Dead? with sad throbs my fainting spirits trippe
In sorrowes maze, and by my mournefull lippe.
My teares make way to tell my heart 'tis so,
And leaue deepe dints, like furrowes, as they go.
The twines of all my hopes are riuell'd and
Like to some pinnace in no hope to land
At any port of safetie, altogether
I lye exposed vnto wracke of weather.
The
point I aim'd at was vntimely lost
Not in March Winds, but Februaries frost:
Noble
Belfast, Ile hugge thine honoured worth,
That in the warmth of it may issue forth
Formes of perfection; to expresse thy beautie:
Or if I faile in that, my humble dutie
Shall kneele in publike to pin on a Verse
With trembling fingers on thy sable Herse,
Which must be arched high, to stand aboue
That Lord who filled all the world with loue.
My muse shall haue in charge to write of him,
As a noble branch of an ennobled stemme.
From
Chichesters discent he tooke his name,
And in exchange of it, return'd such fame
By his braue deeds, as to that race shall be
A radiant splendor for eternitie:
For fame shall write this Adage,
Let it last
Like the sweet memorie of my Lord Belfast.
When once the time of childhood did begin
To step aside, that youth might enter enter in,
He went to
Oxford, that the liberall Arts
Might be ennamel to his natiue parts.
Faire education with good parentage
Made all his vertues walke in equipage,
That they who knew him young, presag'd his scope
Was euer bending to that Cape of Hope
Where Honour rides
; For after he had seene
He was a Captaine of the ship called the Victorie, vnder the command of the Lo. Sheffield, employed against the Spanish Inuasion, Anno 1587, & 88.
Afterwards he was Captaine and Commander in the Portugall voyage of 200. foot, in the Regiment of the Generall sir Fra. Drake, 88. and 89.
He went with sir Fra. Drake to the West Indies, where he was Captain of a Companie of foot, and Lieutenant Colonell of a Regiment. And in Porterico he set fire of the Admirall of the Spanish Frigats, 95. & 96.
After their return from that voyage, he was employed in France, being Captain and Lieutenant Colonel of a regiment with sir Th. Baskeruile, 96
After his returne out of France, he was employed into Ireland with the Earle of Essex, &c.
The
Muses, he return'd to serue his Queene
With armes of valour, the report of them
May be a
Chronicle: for so large a theame
Requires a booke in
Folio, not one leafe,
To shew the homage due to
Iosephs Sheafe,
All bow'd to his, and no worth finds extent
Beyond the bounds of his, whom I lament.
Graue, brane, sure, pure, and like a heauenly star,
In peace, war, speech, and life, was
Chichester.
Renowmed Lord, whose noble acts yeeld matter
For me to praise, and yet abhor to flatter.
Besides the seuerall voyages which he made
Against the Spanish foe, which would inuade
Our Brittish coast: the ciuill warres of France
Drew forth our English
Scipio to aduance
His colours there, which he displaid, and wonne
Honourable knighthood, when the fight was done.
Henrie the 4. of France in gracefull manner,
Vpon desert confer'd this warlike honour.
And fame imprints this Character on his shield,
Knighted by
Burbon, in the open field.
Desert neglected, droopes; encourag'd, beares
Its motions well, as the well ordered Spheares.
Our minds proue then, best actiue, when we know
Our plants are set where they are like to grow.
The home-bred flames of France extinct, our owne
Portend a hot combustion by
Tyrone
A Traitor, who like a Tyger gnawes
The wombe which bare him, with his bloudy pawes.
The Queene bestow'd some fauours, and he thought,
Had she done more, s'had done but what she ought.
Through the perspectiue of his fantasie,
He dream'd he saw his vertues grow so hie;
That, part of
Vlster, for the great
Oneale,
Was not so fit, as was a common-weale.
So, by ambitious proiects, look't for gales
Which might fill full, and yet not rent his sailes.
Among the valiant chieftaines which were sent
To stop the current of his proud intent,
Came
Chichester, whose acts did carrie sense,
And weight of honour with experience.
His colours flew with such anspitious fate,
As if that faire
Bellona there had sate
With wreathes of gold to make a crowne for him,
Who harboured prowes in each manfull limbe:
And made him after his victorious triall,
The Sergeant Maior of the armie royall.
The Lord
Mountioy, Lord deputie of that realme,
Who sate as Pilot in that dangerous healme,
Wrot to the Lords in England his opinion,
Touching the safetie of that sicke dominion.
Because experience taught him oft to learne,
That boggs and fastnes made the Irish kerne
To nestle in the North, he did propound,
That some one man whose iudgement was profound
And valour matchles, might haue forces readie
To curbe the rebells at the first, if headie
Attempts should moue them to an insurrection,
Or draw them (as they speake) to go in action:
For this imployment (so records affirme,
And il'e de liuer it in it's proper terme)
Sir
Arthur Chichester is the fittest man,
(Saies he)
in England or in Ireland, can
Fame be more copious in her bountie: then
To praise his worth aboue a world of men?
That campe had many worthies who suruiue,
And liue to see their reputation thriue.
Yet all with samous
Mountioy, doe agree
To write in that of
Chichester, this is he:
But now they write
he was, from whence abound
Our flouds of griefe like Spring-tides to surround,
Tyrone himselfe, whose lewd affections stood
To crosse, with malice, the increase of good:
Who lay in wait with vnappeased spleene,
In secret ambushments, to wrecke his teene
On carefull
Chichester, did protest, so many
Parts of a Souldier were in him, that any,
Who leade in warlike marches, could not be
More iust, more valiant, nor more wise then he.
Those flames of good desert must sparkle hie,
Whose brightnes is approu'd by enmitie.
Great
Brittains Monarch read his true
Essay,
In a faire copy, for a beaten way
Was made by Fame, which in the
Presence told
The King in earnest, Ireland did hold
Such faire esteeme of
Chichester, that he might
Safely preferre him to maintaine his right
In that adioyning and vnciuill Nation,
The King thinkes on it and approues the motion.
The Post took leaue, & brought backe certain word,
An honoured Gentleman should receiue the Sword.
Fame thou art sodaine, and maist erre; in this
Ile take my oath thou neuer wentst amisse.
Almost twelue yeares in such a gouernment?
If ages past can shew a president,
I am deceiu'd: such rules of requity
Were drawne forth by his hand, as piety
Gaue order for: That learning which was poore,
Found meanes to helpe it selfe out of his store.
Vertue did meet with Honour; and Religion
With Wisdome, it with Bounty: all in
One,
Valour reioyc'd to find a sure protection,
Vpon the word of his braue inclination,
Which set an edge on Courage, when it found,
A gracious hand to beare it from the ground.
He lou'd both Arts and Armes: iust such another
As
Pembrokes Vncle, or as
Leicesters Brother.
A
Sydney, a
Chichester, and that's as much,
As to write in plaine English, a
None such:
For in good sooth neuer before or since,
Could a Vice-roy doe more honour to his Prince.
The people praid,
Lord if it be thy will,
Let this Lord be Lord Deputy with vs still.
I seeke not to detract,
Boetius saies,
Good is diffusiue and hath ample praise,
To giue this man his due, and yet retaine
Good store for others, when it giues againe.
One writes, the Deputies of that Kingdome are
Like Aple-trees, and if their fruit be faire,
The Cudgels then must flye: T'was so with him,
For some Informers, whose aspect was dimme,
Who see no right, nor can discerne religion,
Vnlesse i'th habite of their superstition,
Tax him of much iniustice, by a rabble
Of false suggestions at the Councell table.
But Royal
Salomon did obserue the cause,
And found 'twas not his Deputy, but his Lawes
Were call'd in question: therefore daign'd to giue,
Words which might make a dying man to liue.
This man is cleere, vpon examination,
I finde that all's an vniust accusation,
With other Princely speeches which transcend,
Nor can they, as they ought, by me be pen'd:
When
innocence, his truest
aduocate,
Made replication to the Plaintiffes hate;
And that the Agents for their false report,
Should vndergoe the Censure of that Court;
His meekenesse followed and besought the King
To pardon his accusers, who did bring
Their owne disgrace, not his: a rare example,
In these malitious times, inimitable.
They sought his ruine, he their good: we see
The lesson kept, Christ taught him,
learne of mee.
When the Kings pleasure order'd his remoue
From that high place, the State with generall loue,
Bade him farewell, that euery acclamation,
Seem'd a discreet and studious Oration
To speake in order of those noble parts,
Which were the Loadstone of the Irish hearts.
His credit had iust interest to assume
Iosiahs blessing, as a
sweet perfume,
Which being odoriferous in sent,
Fills all the standers by with much content.
His name sounds iust as when one sweetly sings,
To tunefull musicke on harmonious strings.
No praise, but whats exact, can fit his spirit,
Whose faire composure did consist of merit.
In these daies Vertues lodge apart, but he
Prepar'd one lodging where they all might be:
I meane, his pious and couragious brest,
Where all the Graces built their common nest.
His naturall gifts had tenures on condition
To yeeld to Grace: for his good disposition
Held it vnequall in it's wise
Idea,
Faire
Rachel should submit to bleare-ey'd
Leah.
Cheere vp my Muse, and flye aloft to raise,
A lasting Colume by thy towring Laies.
Inscribe vpon it,
Chichester: for that word
Is a large Tombe of goodnesse; a Record
Of honour, wit, experience, valour, worth,
And Time's the Filizer to produce it forth.
It signifies a
Captaine or a
Knight;
A
Sarjeant Major when the Armies fight,
A princely
Vice-roy, a Lord
Treasurer,
Or else the Germane Lord
Embassadour,
In England a great States-man: and to end,
Truths Champion, Arts encourager, Valours friend,
All which employments doe present a tast
Of seuerall honours in my Lord
Belfast,
Whose happy
Genius being put in action,
Drew forth the view of publike admiration.
One night, not long since, in the skie was showne,
A
Star depending on the forked
Moone:
But now the
Moone waites on the glorious
Starre,
Whose brightnes doth surpassE the Moon-shine far.
Honour and Life, like to the
Moone, haue waines,
Christ is the morning starre: in piercing paines
Of death, this Lord disdain'd the
Moones respect,
For the felicity of the
Starres elect:
He did confesse, like that Diuine S.
Paul,
Christ was his gaine, his hope, his life, his all.
His Tongue was tipt with golden sentences,
Which recollect the Soule, when her offences
Haue made her thoughts vnsteaddy, that shee stands
Giddy, like the foun dation on the sands,
Vntill that Word of God afford a light,
To put the Soule in a more hopefull plight.
The goodly structures which were framed by
The curious platformes of his industry,
In earthly things, he did conclude were winde,
And subiect to corruption: that his minde,
Empty of her owne good, might mount vp higher,
Whither a Christian ought for to aspire.
The Angels were on wing, to beare away
His soule, and yet he argues, their delay
To be o're long; lamenting his aboad
Was yet on earth, diuided from his God.
Each faculty of his soule striu'd which should be
Best learned in the schoole of piety.
Zeale mou'd as liuely in those christian straines,
As blood enclosed in the narrow veines.
To see him dye, was dolour: thus to dye,
Rauish't the Mourners with alacrity,
Because they saw, he went a glorious Guest,
At Supper-time, vnto the
Mariage feast.
Thus he expir'd; nor could a humane Creature,
With more content discharge a debt to Nature.
England laments: and where his body goes,
That Land is drowned with a Sea of woes.
Would I might liue here still, the Irish Shores,
Will be as gloomy as the tawny Moores:
Their blacke-dide countenance will misinforme
The skillfull Pilot: and as in a storme,
Confusion will succeed; for beds of sand,
Will moue the waues to driue them toward land,
That they may vie their multitudes with
All,
Who shed a teare at his sad Funerall.
Tis well
Knockfergus stands vpon a rocke,
For otherwise the fierce impetuous shocke
Of dismall out-cries when the Corpes come thither,
Will make the Fort, and Wall, and houses shiuer,
Or crumble into dust, like
Iericho,
When
Iosuahs Rams hornes were obseru'd to blow.
Yea the whole Realme will make a dolefull cry,
To make an Earth-quake for his
Elegie.
The swift wind will be reasty, as afraid
To waft the noise, lest all the land be made
Subiect to ruine, in astonishment,
With much bewailing this dire accident.
Ioy-mount can be no mount of ioy, but moane,
The name of his house at Knockfergus.
Like to the Turtle when her mate is gone.
The Drums and Fifes clad in their mourning suite,
Will sound, as if his death had made them mute.
The aire will be all blacke, and like a Fuller,
Dye the light Banners in a sable colour.
The buriall must be wet, sith no eye's dry,
I'th swelling deluge of this misery.
Among the presse, my
Muse desireth roome,
To speake one word to him, who makes the Tombe:
Be sure to cut his Eare
indifferent; and
A golden Pen in his laborious hand.
Shew forth his eyes with such resplendent light,
As one who still retaines his wonted sight.
As for his Robes of Parliament, let them be
Put on with such aduice, that we may see
His Sword, and know a Souldier: on his Armes
Write this;
The Bucklers to defend from harmes
His Prince and Countrey. And beneath his head
A Pillow, as if he were gone to bed.
Thou maist limme Honour, speaking;
This is he,
Whose braue exploits hath thus deserued me.
Let it not be, as if he sought for her,
For that will wrong the King, who did preser
His Deputy, of himselfe; and gaue th'impresse,
Ile honour him, who sought for nothing lesse.
Honer sequitur fugientem.
Make his Tombe wide and high, to imitate
The copious circle of his ample fate.
If in thy fabricke thou dost want a stone,
Sith griefe hath made me
Niobe, Ile be
one.
I wish this happinesse to his Heire;
Inherit,
Like to Elisha, this Eliahs spirit:
For that's a stately impe of Fame, by which
More honour is, then is, by being rich.
Lord, What is man? when such a man as he,
Whose parts excelled in the high'st degree,
Dies by a
Plurisie, a corrupted tumour,
Proceeding from a bad vnhealthfull humour.
How ought we then, who are but Atoms small,
And in respect of him, are not at all,
To know our bodies but an house of earth,
And thinke on God before the soule goes forth?
His last to me was this;
Much thankes, Good night.
May my best seruice study to requite
His noble complement: For it I returne,
Millions of teares on his bewailed Vrne.
And fith, the bed he sleepes on, is his Biere,
Ile bid,
Good night, and draw the Curtaines here.
FINIS.