Selected quad for the lemma: death_n
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A02132
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A maidens dreame vpon the death of the Right Honorable Sir Christopher Hatton knight, late Lord Chancelor of England / by Robert Green ...
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Greene, Robert, 1558?-1592.
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1591
(1591)
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STC 12271; ESTC S2695
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7,286
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21
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A MAIDENS DREAME VPON THE DEATH OF THE right Honorable Sir Christopher Hatton Knight late Lord Chancelor of ENGLAND By Robert Green Master of Arts. Imprinted at London by Thomas Scarlet for Thomas Nelson 1591. TO THE RIGHT VVORSHIPFVL BOVNtifull and vertuous Ladie the Ladie Elizabeth Hatton Wife to the right Worshipfull Sir William Hatton Knight increase of all honorable vertues MOurning as well as many right Worshipfull Ladie for the late losse of the right Honorable your deceased Vnckle whose death being the common preiudice of a present age was lamented of most if not all and I among the rest sorrowing that my Countrie was depriued of him that liued not for himselfe but for his Countrie I began to call to mind what a subiect was ministred to the excellent wits of both Vniuersities to work vpon when so worthie a knight and so vertuous a Iusticiarie had by his death left many memorable actions performed in his life deseruing highly by some rare men to be registred Passing ouer many daies in this muse at last I perceiued mens humors slept that loue of many friends followed no farther then their graues that Art was growen idle and either choice schollers feared to write of so high a subiect as his vertues or else they dated their deuotions no further then his life While thus I debated with my selfe I might see to the great disgrace of the Poets of our time some Mycanicall wits blow vp mountaines and bring forth mise who with their follies did rather disparage his Honors than decypher his vertues beside as Virtutis comes est inuidia so base report who hath her tong blistered by slanderous enuie began as farre as she durst now after his death to murmure who in his life time durst not once mutter whervpon touched with a Zealous iealousie ouer his wonderfull vertues I could not whatsoeuer discredit I reapt by my presumption although I did Tenui Auena meditari but discouer the honorable qualities of so worthie a Counsellor not for anie priuat benefit I euer had of him which should induce me fauorably to flatter his worthie partes but onely that I shame to let slip with silence the vertues and honors of so worthie a knight whose deserts had bin so many and so great towards al. Therfore right worshipful Ladie I drewe a fictioÌ„ called A Maidens Dreame which as it is Enigmaticall so it is not without some speciall and considerate reasons Whose slender Muse I present vnto your Ladiship induced therunto first that I know you are partaker of your husbands sorrowes for the death of his honourable Vncle and desire to heare his honors put in memorie after his death as you wished his aduancement in vertues to be great in his life as also that I am your Ladiships poore CountrimaÌ„ and haue long time desired to gratifie your right worshipfull father with some thing worthie himselfe Which because I could not to my content performe I haue now taken oportunitie to shew my duetie to him in his daughter although the gift be farre too meane for so worshipfull and vertuous a Lady Yet hoping your Ladishippe will with courtesie fauour my presuming follies and in gratious acceptance vouch of my well meant labours I humbly take my leaue Your Ladiships humbly at commaund R. Greene. Nordouicensis A Maidens Dreame ME thought in slumber as I lay and dreamt I sawe a silent spring raild in with Ieat From sunnie shade or murmur quite exempt The glide whereof gainst weeping flints did beat And round about were leauelesse beeches set So darke it seemed nights mantle for to borrow And well to be the gloomie den of sorrow About this spring in mourning roabes of blacke Were sundrie Nymphs or Goddesses me thought That seemly sate in rankes iust backe to backe On Mossie benches Nature there had wrought And cause the wind spring no murmure brought They fild the aire with such laments and groanes That Eccho sigh'd out their heart-breaking mones Elbow on knee and head vpon their hand As mourners sit so sat these Ladies all Garlands of Eben-bowes whereon did stand A golden crowne their mantles were of pall And from their waterie eies warme teares did fall With wringing hands they sat and sigh'd like those That had more griefe then well they could disclose I lookt about and by the fount I spied A Knight lie dead yet all in armour clad Booted and spurd a faâ—â—ciâ—on by his side A Crowne of Oâ—â—â—â—â— on his helme he had She seemed wounded by her panting breath Her beating breast with sighs did fall and rise Wounds was there none it was her masters death That drew Electrum from her weeping eies Like scalding smoake her braying throbs outflies As Deere do mourne when arrow hath them galled So was this Hinde with Hart-sicke pains inthralled Iust at his head there sate a sumptuous Queene I gest her so for why she wore a crowne Yet were her garments parted white and greene Tierd like vnto the picture of renowne Vpon her lap she laid his head a downe Vnlike to all she smiled on his face Which made me long to know this dead mans case As thus I lookt gan Iustice to arise I knew the Goddes by her equall beame And dewing on his face balme from her eies She wet his visage with a yearnfull streame Sad mournfull lookes did from her arches gleame And like to one whom sorrow deep attaints With heaued hands she poureth forth these plaints The Complaint of Iustice. VNtoward Twins that tempers humane fate who from your distaffe draws the life of man Parce impartiall to the highest state Too soone you cut what Clotho earst began Your fatall doomes this present age may ban For you haue robd the world of such a knight As best could skil to ballance Iustice right His eyes were seates for mercy and for law Fauour in one and Iustice in the other The poore he smoth'd the proud he kept in aw As iust to strangers as vnto his brother Bribes could not make him any wrong to smother For to a Lord or to the lowest groome Stil conscience and the cawes set down the doome Delaying law that picks the clients purse Ne could this Knight abide to heare debated From day to day that claimes the poor mans curse Nor might the pleas be ouer-long dilated Much shifts of law there was by him abated With conscience carefully he heard the cause Then gaue his doome with short dispatch of lawes The poore mans crie he thought a holy knell No sooner gan their suites to pearce his eares But faire-eyed pitie in his heart did dwell And like a father that affection beares So tendred he the poore with inward teares And did redresse their wrongs when they did call But poore or rich he still was iust to all Oh wo is me saith Iustice he is dead The knight is dead that was so iust a man And in Asteras lap low lies his head Who whilom wonders in the world did scan Iustice
hath lost her chiefest lim what than At this her sighes and sorowes were so sore And so she wept that she could speak no more The complaint of Prudence A Wreath of Serpents bout her lilly wrist Did seemly Prudence weare she then arose A siluer Doue satt mourning on her fist Teares on hir cheeks like dew vpon a rose And thus began the Goddesse greeful glose Let England mourn for why his daies are don Whom Prudence nurced like her dearest sonne Hatton at that I started in my dreame But not awooke Hatton is dead quoth she Oh could I pour out teares like to a streame A sea of them would not sufficient be For why our age had few more wise then he Like oracles as were Apollos sawes So were his words accordant to the lawes Wisdome sate watching in his wary eyes His insight subtil if vnto a foe He could with counsels Commonwelths comprise No forraine wit could Hattons ouergoe Yet to a frend wise simple and no mo His ciuill policie vnto the state Scarce left behind him now a second mate For Countries weale his councel did exceede And Eagle-eyed he was to spie a fault For warres or peace right wisely could he reed Twas hard for trechors fore his lookes to hault The smooth-fac'd traitor could not him assault As by his Countries loue his grees did rise So to his Countrey was he simple-wise This graue aduiser of the Commonweale This prudent Counceller vnto his Prince Whose wit was busied with his Mistres heale Secret conspiracies could wel conuince Whose insight perced the sharp-eyed Linx He is dead at this her sorowes were so sore And so she wept that she could speake no more The complaint of Fortitude NExt Fortitude arose vnto this Knight And by his side sate down with stedfast eye A broken Columb twixt her arms was pight She could not weep nor pour out yernful cries From Fortitude such base affects nil rise Brass-renting Goddesse she cannot lament Yet thus her plaints with breathing sighs were spent Within the Maidens Court place of all places I did aduance a man of high degree Whom Nature had made proud with all her graces Inserting courage in his noble heart No perils drad could euer make him start But like to Scaeuola for countries good He did not value for to spend his blood His lookes were sterne though in a life of peace Though not in warres yet war hung in his browes His honor did by martiall thoughts increase To martiall men liuing this Knight allowes And by his sword he solemnly auowed Thogh not in war yet if that war were here As warriors do to value honor deere Captens he kept and fostered them with fee Soldiers were seruants to this martiall Knight Men might his stable full of Coursers see Trotters whose manag'd lookes would som afright His armorie was rich and warlike dight And he himselfe if any need had craued Would as stout Hector haue himselfe behaued I lost a frend when as I lost his life Thus playned Fortitude and frownd withall Cursed be Atrapos and curst her knife That made the Capten of my gard to fall Whose vertues did his honors high install At this she storm'd and wrong outsighes so sore That what for grief her tongue could speak no more The complaint of Temperance THen Temperance with bridle in her hand Did mildly look vpon this liuelesse Cord And like to weeping Niobe did stand Her sorrowes and her teares did wel accord Their Diapason was in selfe-same Lord Here lies the man quoth she that breath'd out this To shun fond pleasures is the sweetest blisse No choice delight could draw his eyes awry He was not bent to pleasures fond conceits Inueigling pride nor worlds sweet vanitie Loues luring follies with their strange deceits Could wrap this Lord within their baleful sleights But he despising all said man was grasse His date a span omnia vanitas Temperate he was and tempered al his deedes He brideled those affects that might offend He gaue his wil no more the raines then needs He measured pleasures euer by the end His thoughts on vertues censures did depend What booteth pleasures that so quickly passe When such delights are fickle like to glasse First pride of life that subtil branch of sinne And then the lusting humor of the eyes And base concupiscence which plies her gin These Sirens that doe worldlings stil intise Could not allure his mind to think of vice For he said stil pleasures delight it is That holdeth man from heauens deliteful blisse Temperat he was in euery deep extreame And could wel bridle his affects with reason What I haue lost in loosing him then deeme Base death that tooke away a man so geason That measur'd euery thought by tyme and season At this her sighes and sorowes were so sore And so she wept that she could speake no more The complaint of Bountie VVIth open hands and mourning lookes dependant Bounty stept foorth to waile the dead mans losse On her was loue and plenty both attendant Teares in her eyes armes folded quite acrosse Sitting by him vpon a turfe of mosse She sigh'd and said here lies the knight deceased Whose bountie Bounties glorie much increased His lookes were liberall and in his face Sate frank Magnificence with armes displaid His open hands discourst his inward grace The poore were neuer at their need denaid His careles scorn of gold his deedes bewraid And this he crau'd no longer for to liue Then he had power and mind and wil to giue No man went emptie from his frank dispose He was a purse-bearer vnto the poore He wel obseru'd the meaning of this glose None lose reward that geueth of their store To all his bounty past Ay me therfore That he should die with that she sigh'd so sore And so she wept that she could speak no more The complaint of Hospitalitie LAme of a leg as she had lost a lim Start vp kind Hospitalitie and wept She silent sate awhile and sigh'd by him As one halfe maymed to this knight she crept At last about his neck this Nimph she lept And with her Cornucopia in her fist For very loue his chilly lips she kist Ay me quoth she my loue is lorn by death My chiefest stay is crackt and I am lame He that his almes franckly did bequeath And fed the poore with store of food the same Euen he is dead and vanisht is his name Whose gates were open and whose almes deede Supplied the fatherlesse and widowes need He kept no Christmas house for once a yeere Each day his boards were fild with Lordly fare He fed a rout of yeomen with his cheare Nor was his bread and beefe kept in with care His wine and beere to strangers were not spare And yet beside to al that hunger greeued His gates were ope and they were there releeued Wel could the poore tel where to fetch their bread As Bausis and Philemon were iblest For feasting Iupiter in strangers stead So