But he is dead we may outdare Death now as having nought to feare The world hath lost her chiefest blisse Heaven the onely gainer is One blow hath kil'd more then the plague and we In losing one have lost plurality A sense might have beene better spar'd your price We would have thought too but a sacrifice Such as was I saacks Ram that sav'd in one Iust Patriarch a generation One star we may see shoot without a grone But should we lose a constellation 'T would puzzle Astrologie nay almost By losing one your science would be lost Fate 's wisdome see that he might leave our tast In rellish he cut off your choycest last H. B. Vpon the Death of my Lord STAFFORD the last Baron of that Ancient Stocke GRieve not ye Sacred Ancestours of Fame As if this were the carcasse of your Name The Barke now flourishes we may presume He 's planted and not buryed in the Tombe Your famous branches by his fall are blowne His fate becomes your Resurrection Good deeds were all his Progeny whilst he Leaves them no other state but memory The Titles and Revenues let them hoord That doe delight to heare these words My Lord In Stafford I confesse they bore some weight Cause they spoke him as well as this estate It was his Name not Title and that tone Made him not famous onely better knowne Deserts well plac'd shine more It is a tie And reverence to Vertue to be high Should the Sunne falling to the earth fixe here Hee 'd suffer an eclipse from his owne sphere Sure to prevent that old and glorious itch He dy'd before the age of being Rich No Lands was ever he possess'd of save That small unhappy portion of a grave Death did deliver him we may be bold To stile it his redemption from Gold Wealth is a sinne though us'd and to be free Yet never want is but kind usury He was so witty yet sincere that we Dare say he meant ev'n an Hyperbole He could not flatter what he spake was knowne No complement but an expression Postures in him were Vertues for when he Did bend it was not pride but charitie His hat went off so honestly we may Affirme he onely did himselfe betray Not like to those that study the Court stride And learne the decent stitch on the left side He nothing to the streame o' th' Time did owe The Staffords manners from themselves still flow We must despaire thy equall unlesse he Could with thy Titles too inherit thee H. R. On the Death of the Right Honorable Edward Lord Stafford WHen brave Heroick spirits flie from hence That govern'd others by their influence Each Muse with Cypresse crownd instead of Bayes Makes them the subject of their teares and prayes Who were examples living being dead With living Monuments are honoured When other's course earth doth neglected lye That liv'd as if they onely liv'd to die But with what Marble or what Brasse shall we Honour the Noble Staffords memory Whose very Name inscrib'd would lustre give Enough to make those dead materials live The glorious minde dwelt in his Noble brest Did entertaine each Vertue for its guest And what soe're was opposite and foule For ever banisht from his Christan soule He was as good as great and taught the Time By what safe steps men might to Honour climbe Yet ventrous death with his impartiall Darts Hath disunited those his different parts Whilst th' earth doth his more richer earth containe What came from Heaven is thither flowne againe E. B. Medii Templi On the deplored Death of Edward Lord Stafford the last Baron of his Name STay Death and heare a short plea we would crave Onely the mercy of a single grave And that at one stroke thou wouldst kill but one In him thou slayst a generation Then ere thou strikst Death know thy sin for this Not a plaine Murder but Massacre is Compendious slaughter of a Family What yet unknowne Plague shall we title thee What Power art thou what strange Influence That thus usurpst the spleene of Pestilence Can the Grave propagate that there should be As yet a new kinde of mortality Sure I mistake our misery this was not That which we call disease but a Chaine-shot Death hath foregone his Archery and Dart And practises the Canon that dire Art Of murdering by the hundreds Thus alone We lose not Stafford but a Legion Take a friends counsell yet grim fate and stay Doe not bereave thy selfe of future prey Let him survive to a large Progenie Which will be but a number that must dye Visit some Friery there thy wrath expresse There where Religion is barrennesse That were a thrifty cruelty and to save This Youth were mercy would enrich thy grave Cheate not our hopes thus riddling Destiny When we did pray Stafford might multiply As numberlesse as are the sands there 's none Meant such a fatall propagation His owne dust for an Off spring our best prayers Forbid such sad increase Atomes for Heires Howere be not so speedy gods but give Him breath till he has taught us how to live Must we thus wholly lose him and such worth Ere in Example he can bring it forth And must this be his period cannot we Expresse a man beyond his Elegie And Epitaph can we pen History What if long-liv'd this little one would be Where is your Art Genethliakes who dare From the Brachygraphy of some Prophet starre Transcribe the life of every birth if Fate And your great skill be such Death comes too late To prejudice your knowledge and you can When he has seiz'd the Corps reprieve the Man And pen him a long-liv'd Example though He had beene borne a livelesse Embryo I pray goe calculate and tell us then What Stafford in his ripe yeares would have been Describe him at some Canon guarded Hill Leading his daunted Generall and we will Lessen our present despaire into feare And tremble lest our Stafford should fall there Then prosecute your story till his yeares List him among the graver headed Peeres And in the bustle of some fcard-state-rent Let 's heare him tutoring a Parliament Alas such thoughts but aggravate our crosse Instead of comfort summing up our losse Cease then all prattle with the Grave and Herse Silence suites better then the saddest Verse Ri. Paynter Ioan. Ox. To the Memory of the Right Honorable the Lord STAFFORD the last Baron of his Family Great soule of Stafford T Was not for want of Merit that thy Herse So long hath lack'd it's tributary Verse Things whose fraile mem'ry scarce outlives the time Their Elegies a reading may have a Rime In halfe an houre flung on them Earthen plate 'S fram'd at a turne when the rich Porcelane's date Is a full Age Raptures that doe befit Objects of wonder are the fruites of Wit And choice not Fury This kept Phaebus Quire Silent so long that nought but hallow'd fire And purest gums might crowne thine Vrne yet still They find thy
lesse infinite And man no more looke up since stars shine dim To vertues light and heaven was nigh in him Thy vertues growth hath our endeavours chid Wee le raise no Pile to thee great Pyramid B. Ollivier On the death of the Lord STAFFORD IF from thy Sacred Ashes did arise Another Phoenix breathing spiceries Such as thy blossomes did since funerall fire Refined in full age thine Honoured Sire In whom you both might seeme againe t' returne Our griefes had all beene buried in thy Vrne Nor vexe the quiet Muses for a Verse To be thy Off-spring or adorne thy Herse Who leav'st Succession unto none of thine And but in such liv'st in no other Line But now her selfe Nature begins to feare And startles to behold now here now there A family extinct which though she strive With all her Art and strength to keepe alive It vanisheth Great Stafford thou shalt be To Nature a sad instance and to me Lest by Inductions she her selfe might be Concluded in short time Vacuitie When the whole Fabricks into nothing hurld And the great fadeth as the lesser world Pillars of flesh not stones and Imagrie Preserve the dead in Living Memory The blossome cropt before 'ts growne to a Peare Is no more worth than if 't had ne're beene there Which grown might from its kernels have begun In other grounds a new Plantation The poore mans Only lamb should have bin spar'd It was his Onely One 's there no regard Of One and Onely One This One may grow In time into a number Whence may flow Succeeding Millions This One being lost The hopes of all futurity are crost Happy who first by his Victorious hand Won honour to his house whose Name did stand In the first front and after liv'd to see His sonnes continue his Nobilitie But he who ends his Honour and his Name In his sweete youth and early hopes when fame Is scarce upon the wing to tell the Earth His Ancestors his Honours and his birth Dies leaving teares his onely Legacie Which must be wept and payd from every eye This gives our teares new birth nor doth contract Our sad Laments onely into one Act Such as was thy appearance form'd of clay Array'd with and bereft of Honour in a day But will when ere we turne the booke of Fame Create new griefe when we shal read thy Name With this unhappie mention He dy'd Young And without issue Here doth end the Line Of th' Ancient Staffords Family Thus Time Becomes their Period also and the End Which should each action crowne to thee doth lend A double lesse in whose one death doe dye More than thy selfe Thy Auncient Family Tell me old Time Chiefe Register of Things Who writ'st the fates of Commons and of Kings Was not a Tribe once precious in the Eye Of the Almighty though once doom'd to dye And perish all yet some were left to be Preserv'd and raise up a new Progenie So lest no branch of David should be left To bud till Shiloh came Ioash by theft Escapes the bloody stroke onely this One Continues Kingdome and succession For one out of a numerous race to die We know is common when the race doth lie In One and that One leaves no one behind Besides a fruitlesse name Nature's unkind My owne Creation 's but a blisse begun Which is made perfect in succession E. Marow On the Death of the most Noble Lord STAFFORD IMpartiall Nature sham'st thou not that we Should ever brand thee thus with cruelty Must all feele the like death Must vertuous then Be subject to corruption like bad men Thus thou wouldst have it be but he whose breath Thou enviously hast stopt shall not know death He who by Children thou deni'dst should give A life to 's Name makes it himselfe to live He was borne Noble and his life did so Answer his birth that it was hard to know Which way he was most Noble which most good By his owne vertues or his Parents blood In him liv'd all his Ancestors his fall Proves not his onely but their funerall He was not his Stocks bare Epitomy Nor was he like but one o' th' Family He did resemble All What dyed in him Was seene againe reviv'd and live in him Life to the dead he gave And though a Son His Fathers Fathers Father was become And now he that was like his friends in all things tried To be more like 'hem and as they did dyed With him fals th' house of th' Staffords and t is well It might have longer stood not better fell R. Pul. Sacred to the Memory of the most Vertuous Edward Lord Stafford the last Baron of his Illustrious Family SO is the ancient Rocke that still sent forth Iewels of clearer light and constant worth By ruder hands still pillag'd of it's store Safe onely when they thought 't would yeild no more The Sun discov'ring a fresh drop of light That might contest with him and prove as bright Doth bid his beames that exudation steale Before the moisture into stone congeale So in the aged Rose tree whose buds were Such that we might affirme th'were stars grew there After it long had yeelded growing Fires Still snatch'd to seede the ravishers desires The cold doth kill that bud that last shoots forth And robs us of all hopes of afterworth Thus here the heat and there the frost doth more Spoile then the Robbers Fingers did before But we can pardon fate when that the crosse Extends it selfe unto no greater losse Then of a Gem or Flowre But when that hand Shall snatch such living Iewels let me stand Senselesse and stupid as that Rocke and be Wretched and fruitlesse as that wither'd tree Fancy a morne that promis'd all delight Day ere afforded yet unto the sight Clouded by suddaine darkenesse whiles the houres Were busie yet to dresse it with fresh flowres And you have fanci'd expectation Crost But not like that of him we now have lost Fancy a sparke that Time would soone have blowne Into a throng of flames that would have growne Vnto the pitch of lustre as it bore The Pyramid higher and fill'd more and more Dasht by a suddaine violent showre and then Know you are short of this as sparkes of men Witnesse thou Deity of my pensive Muse His Sacred soule that I no Art doe use To raise a noted griefe from fancy'd losse Making the teares when I have made the crosse Alas the causes are too just For where Hath Knowledge any glories that his cleare Mind did not reach at Where hath Action ought Of Fame and worth that he would not have sought No Flowre in all that Garden or in this That would not have been proud to be stil'd his Bays most retir'd from Light and Sun had beene By his search found and by his shewing seene For whereas others thinke high birth and blood Vertues entaild and all that 's well borne good Though he might boast in this an ample share As the world knowes Vertue and this Lord were As undivided still as Light and Heate That the Inherent Dowry he the seate Yet he nere would his Birth to Vertue swell But thought it onely might set Vertue well Made it the Ouch not Iewell and from thence Did raise new Titles of preheminence Thus each day added to him and we may Say if we view his mind he did die gray Nor let me suffer misbeliefe because You knew him yet not man by Time and Lawes Soules such as his sore and produce high things When others have as yet scarce hope of wings His Genius did rich glories then beget And shew when lower could not Bud as yet Thus Regions neare the Sun doe Fields afford Throng'd with the choysest Flowres and richly stor'd When the remoter places sleepe and show Onely a garment of benumming Snow When I consider all this snatcht I must Wish that my teares could animate his dust But being we cann't call backe lost good nor blesse Our selves with him reviv'd I here professe My brest his Marble and doe thence become Both the bewailer of him and the Tombe Anthony Stafford FINIS Where a worthy man of a faire Line is born and bred is necessary to be knowne it is here proved against all clownish Infidels that there is such a thing as a Gentleman Amongst all Nations the Dane is the greatest Adorer of Nobilitie A never fading Honour is not the gift of Fortune but of Vertue It is here proved by reason that Nobility depends not on the will of Fortune Nothing is more remote from the nature of true Nobility than an ancient stocke void of vertue It is here by example confirmed that Descent is no sound Argument of true Nobility Honour and Vertue conjoyned out-shine solitary Merit Arts Arms should be the study of the more Noble The Dukes of Buckingham have beene so great that Earles have bin Stewards of their Houses His pious Education Religion is to be suckt in with the milke His learned Education Though learning be not the Adaequate cause of Vertue it is the adjuvant Great men have declared themselves fautors of Learning Humillity extolled in it selfe and him Obedience commended in it selfe and him His obedience to his parents Two rare examples of filiall duty and pietie His obedience to his Tutors Charitie praised in it selfe and him His love to his Friends His curiositie in the choice of his friends A herd of Friends hee lov'd not His love to the poore His ready forgiving of injuries Valour magnified in it selfe and him All men admire few understand what valour is Two admirable signes of Cato's future valour discover'd in him yet a childe Temperancie extolled in it selfe and him Drunkennesse dispraised Gluttony reprehended Justice exalted in it selfe and him Two stupendious presidents of Justice Prudencie commended in it selfe and him His Death His Patience Two things to bee lamented in his Death His infortunity in dying so immaturely in the Reigne of so gracious a Prince The immaturity of his Death Brevity of life to be preferred before Longevity * Xerxes God hath set down a period beyond which Nature her selfe shall not passe This World compared to a Theatre Death to a Christian not a punishment but a tribute
Schoole with the same countenance Malefactors looke on the Gibbet I cannot say whether his alacrity in receiving or his care in executing his Tutors commands were the greater The esteeme of the holy Prophets Apostles and Fathers of the Church had this Vertue in ought to advance it much in our esteeme God bound man to obedience presently after his creation in the state of innocencie the breach whereof hee severely punish'd Noah readily obey'd all Gods commands when the Floud was at hand The swift obedience of Abraham was admirable when without any delay at all he made haste to sacrifice his sonne and with his owne hands to let out his own blood It is worthy our observation that when ever the Children of Israel or any of Gods servants fought with or against his will they had accordingly good or bad successe God told that if hee willingly executed all his precepts hee would ever fixe the Throne of his Kingdome in Hierusalem but on the contrary if he did not perform them he would cut Israel from off the face of the earth Therefore saith S. Gregory is obedience better then sacrifice because by sacrifice anothers flesh but by obedience our own wils are subdued slaine and offerd up to the Almightie An obedient man saith Saint Bernard deferres not the execution of a command but straight prepares his eares to heare his Tongue to speake his feet to walke his hands to worke and all his thoughts are fix'd on the will of his Commander And in another place the same Father saith That there is no doubt but hee deserves more grace and favour who prepares and makes himselfe readie to receive a command then hee who willingly executes the same To this alludes that of Plantus Pater adsum Impera quid vis neque tibi ero in mora Neque latebrosè me abs tuo conspectu occultabo And that of Terence Facis ut te decet cum isthoc quod postulo impetro cum gratia Wee will conclude this point with that which Ovid speaks of Achilles Qui toties socios toties exterruit hostes Creditur annosum pertinuisse senem The next that presents it selfe to our view is Charity a Vertue that will usher any man to Gods presence who is ambitious of that greatest of Glories This Love is the King of all the passions of the soule and motions of the Heart he attracts all the rest to him and renders them conformable to himselfe His Essence consists in doing good works readily diligently frequently Let us heare that excellent Father Saint Augustine magnifie this Vertue In Charity saith hee the poore are rich and without it the rich are poor This sustaines us in adversitie tempers us in prosperity fortifies us against unruly passions and makes us joyfully do good works This was it made Abel delightfull in Sacrifice Noah secure in the Floud Abraham faithfull in his peregrination Moses merry amidst injuries and David meek in tribulation This made the fire a playfellow to the Children in the Furnace This caused Susanna to be chast above the temptations of man Anna after the use of man and the blessed Virgin without the knowledge of man This animated Paul to be free in arguing Peter humble in obeying the Christians gentle in their confessions and Christ himselfe prone to pardon sinners What shall I say should I speake with the tongues of men and Angels and want Charitie I were nothing it being the soule of Divine Knowledge the Vertue of Prophesie the salvation contained in the Sacraments the fruit of Faith the riches of the poore and the life of the dying He addes A man may have all the Sacraments and yet be evill but he cannot have Charitie and be so Againe Science if it be alone is puffed up with pride but because Charitie edifies she suffers not Knowledge to swell He calls it in another place the cement of soules and the societie of the Faithfull Saint Hierome commends it to us in these words I do not remember any one hath died an ill death who willingly perform'd the Works of Charity the reason is because hee hath many Intercessours and it is a thing impossible that the prayers of many should not penetrate the sacred eares of God Sweetly saith St. Gregory As many boughs spring from one root so many Vertues are deriv'd from Charitie alone in which not rooted no branch of goodnesse can flourish To these Suffrages I will adde that of Hugo O divine Charitie I know not how I should speake more in thy prayse then that thou didst draw God from Heaven to Earth and didst exalt Man from Earth to Heaven Needs must thy force be great since by thee God was so humbled and Man so exalted In so few yeares as fourteene a man can expect onely a propension to this and all other Vertues yet he that looks for no small progresse in this and most of the other for the practice of some are not incident to that tender age shall not have his expectation deceiv'd For his Charity I may truly averre that it was extensive not onely to his friends and acquaintance but to the poore to strangers and enemies also Some friends he chose both for support and ornament as appeares by his love and imitation of his truly good and great Guardian the Earle of Arundell Lord Marshall of England for no sooner had age ripened his judgement but hee elected him for the object of his affections and the modell of his actions A copy drawne from so faire an originall you will say could not prove deform'd Others hee chose for delight and all hee lov'd with a heart wherein Truth kept her Court Some he would to his power so suddenly secretly and cunningly relieve that they often times found their wants supplyed before they knew from whence the benefit came resembling in this a Physician who cures his patient unawares before he dreams of a recovery Hee approved that speech of Diogenes Manus ad amicos non complicatis digitis extendi oportere That a closed hand is not to bee reached out to a Friend Where he discovered a compleat worth he disdained not to be a suitor and first to make an offer of his service in imitation of a Husbandman who first tilleth and soweth the ground and then expects the fruit of his labour His word and the effect of it were as inseparable as heat and fire This true property of a Gentleman the Ancients decipher'd to us when they painted a Tongue bound fast to a Heart He was no importunate or severe Exactor of the returne of a love answerable in greatnesse to his owne wisely and nobly considering that hee is no true friend who is alwayes no more a friend then his friend is Marry I must confesse hee was exceedingly curious and cautious in his choice following in that the counsell of Bias the Philosopher Amicos sequere quos non pudeat elegisse Follow such friends whom to have chosen you need
and observation of all the writings and actions of the wise In his conversation he ever applyed himselfe to those who had deservedly gain'd a fame in good Letters or had acquir'd wisedome by Experience whose sage precepts and admonitions hee as greedily dranke in as a thirsty Traveller doth Water from a cleare fountaine These he made the mirrour wherein he daily dress'd and compos'd his mind which was a Paradise into which the Serpent never enter'd but he receiv'd a suddaine repulse Two times especially hee made choyse of to prepare and examine himself the Morning the Evening In the first he forecast what was that day to bee done in the later he cald to minde what that day he had done To doe good was his fixed resolution and when he had the power to doe harme like the true sonne of Prudency he never had the will wheras the Nature of a foole is when he hath not the ability then to have the will to doe mischiefe This Vertue was defused cleane through all his endeavours nay through his very habit gesture and discourse which were neither too mimical too anticke nor too grave but sutable to the modesty required in so greene an Age Impudency which Politicians prophanely call the gift of God he hated so in others that hee never gave it countenance nor harbour himselfe In his Discourse he warily proportion'd his words to the bignesse of the subject he spake of in imitation of a Mariner that fits his Sayles to the smalnesse or vastnesse of his Vessell As slender men lightly weare their cloaths loose and large a little to augment their bulke so small wits who want matter enlarge themselves in words whereas indeed that speech is best which comprehends most sence in fewest words as wee esteeme that Coyne most which in a small compasse includes a great value Hee was not hasty to speak or in speaking but in both prudently observ'd a decency He was very carefull not onely what he vented but what hee heard that it relished not of Immodesty Levity or Vice for he held that what ever it was a villany to act it was also a villany to harken to Hee talked alwayes opportunely and appositively never above his knowledge He derided those who with a great dinne utter'd nothing but high profound Non-sence resembling in that the Cypresse trees which are great and tall but beare no fruit A visit given to a wise but sick man by one of these babling curious impertinents afflicts him more than his disease His owne secrets those of his friends or of the state he neither reveal'd nor pryed into for he was sure he could at any time speake what he had conceal'd but he could not conceale what he had once spoken En la boca serada moxca no entra sayes the Spanish Proverbe Into a mouth closed a Flie never enters Hee had happily read or heard that Anacharsis the Philosopher was accustomed to sleep with his right hand on his mouth and his left on his secrets being of opinion that the Tongue more than Concupiscence needed a bridle Not to be tedious I may boldly because truely averre that Prudency was the generall of his Demeanour Speech and Actions and gave to all of them a Wise and safe Conduct You see pious Reader what embellishment what Ornaments his Life like a sparkling Jewell was set with and I imagine you cannot believe so faire a beginning could have a foule end You cannot surely be at once so stupid and uncharitable If you can you shall quickly be convinc'd of your Errour and shall see this Sun-set with the same glory in which he rose First in his sicknesse that led to his death he made use of his patience a Vertue which miraculously overcomes by yielding As he would not shunne his death so he would not hasten it but used all lawfull and possible meanes to prevent it no otherwise than the Master of a Ship who when the sayles are rent asunder the Mast cut downe by the boarde and a Leake sprung in the ship yet still labours for life and leaves no way unsought to preserve it But when hee saw his inconstant Mistresse Nature ready to abandon him and that as well Necessity forced as God cald him hence then selfe-love the Lifes Jaylour could no longer with-hold him from readily running into the Armes of Death who he knew would soone usher him into the imbraces of his Saviour He beheld Death no otherwise then a Pilot does the Winds and the Sayles that will bring him to his desired Haven He endured the terrible approach and the furious assaults of Death with so undaunted a resolution of a man and so firme unmoved a beliefe of a Christian that he became at once a pleasing and sad spectacle to his friends who believed he could not so patiently undergoe such paine and torments without the extraordinary assistance of some Beatificall vision We see many in the darke are afraid of every thing but the comfortable light expells all feare so it is for those who are blinded with the Mist Atheisme and Impiety have cast before their eyes to doubt and tremble security becomes such as live and dye in the true Light and are illustrated with the beames of Gods favour as was this Patient of Heaven who not being curable here was thither to be translated Before the comming of the Holy Ghost upon the Apostles they feared Death and forsooke their Lord but when they were once illuminated from above they undauntedly appear'd before Tyrants and constantly suffer'd Martyrdome Having sent his desires long before to cast Anchor in Heaven hee longingly expected his owne passage with a calme patient and contented minde wherein no distemper ever stay'd but as an unwelcome stranger At length when he perceived all his senses were ready to forsake him being innocently ambitious to retaine to the last his knowledge of all things he suddainly by a holy Art drew the vastnesse of his memory into a Compendium and remembred God onely in whom are all things in whose Fatherly eternall protection we confident and submissively leave him In this bud of Honour two things are deservedly to be lamented First that it dyed under the hand of a Royall Gardner who meant to underprop and cherish it Secondly that it so soone faded All men will confesse his infortunity was great in departing this life in the Reigne of a Prince great in the Union of the Roses greater in that of the Lawrells but greatest of all in the love of his people He knowes full well that full ill it went with man-kind if the Almighty Maker of all things should confine his favour to one onely and neglect the rest of Humanity and therefore as a god on earth in imitation of of the Heavenly distributes his favours amongst all his subjects but not eodem gradu because they are not ejusdem meriti Like the Sunne he strives to impart the light of his countenance to all
they would have also the same passions They would after our womanish custome lament their untimely death who die before noon esteeme them happy that live till the evening and yet bewaile them too who depart at night Our fond whining were seasonable and to purpose if it could prevent the death of our friends or call them from the dead but it savours of a vain foolish arrogant ambition to desire they should be privileged and exempted from the fatall common condition of Mankinde since wee cannot be ignorant that God hath set down a period beyond which Nature her self shal not passe Nothing representeth better to us this world then a theater wheron one acts a King another a Lord a third a Magistrate others again play the base servil parts of fools messengers mutes Some of them stay stare strut look big a long time on the Stage others only shew themselvs without speaking one word as soon as they come on go off againe to conclude all have their Exits So we poore Mortals who are sent by our provident omnipotent Creator into this world to undergo several charges some wherof are honorable some ignominious have al an egresse out of this life aswel as an ingresse allotted us Some a long time be at this earthly Stage with the Majestie of a Tragedian others are fools sneak up down to the laughter of all men others again lie manacled bed-rid or which is the worst of Fates distracted Some no sooner enter but they go out again as did that child in the besieged depopulated desolate town of Saguntum who by an instinct of Nature no sooner put his head out of his Mothers wombe but he pull'd it in again as divining the approching destruction of his Citie and himself To continue the similitude As hee who acted an Emperor the Play once done is no better then he who represented a slave so the Grave as Horace saith equals all the King the Beggar Pertinently to this S. Ambrose We are born naked saith he and die naked there is no difference between the carcasses of the rich and the poore save that the former stinke worse through a repletion with excrements which surfets of delicious fare have left behinde This world is Deaths region about it as a triumpher over all flesh he rides his circuit Since then his cōming is so necessary so inevitable whether he comes in the dawne the noon or twilight of life let us bid him welcome What should hinder us to doe so I cannot tell since as there is no ship but in one Voyage or other dasheth not against some hidden rock or shelf so the most happy life is not free from infinite crosses and disasters Yet though every man knows the inconveniences perils of this life saith S. Austin and that he must once die yet all men seeke to shun and defer the houre of death not onely the heathen but they to who believe the resurrection of the body and the life everlasting To our reproch the holy Father spake this for though it be no shame for a Gentile to fear death whose onely scope of life is to see and be seen to know be known yet to a Christian it is whose aime and desire should be not onely to serve God faithfully here but also to raigne gloriously with him hereafter What is necessarily to be done a wiseman does voluntarily let us not therefore with the foolish Tyrant in Lucian either with tears prayers or bribes vainly think to perswade inexorable Death but wisely consider that wee are neither the first nor the last All have gone before and must follow us Nay not a man dies that hath not at the same time many to accompany him who arrive at the house of Death by severall waies Life is a due debt to God and Nature as long as we have it we enjoy a benefit when wee are deprived of it wee have no wrong Let us then daily render it backe to him that gave it since hee is a bad debtour who unwillingly payes As a Souldier the signe once given readily obeyes the command of his Generall and armed at all poynts followes him through all Dangers and faceth Death himselfe so must we chearefully observe the very Beck of our Heavenly Commander and through all miseries and destruction it selfe make our way to him Death should be no longer formidable to us since our Redeemer hath taken out his sting and hee is now no other then an old toothlesse Dragon It is a foolish thing to delight in sleep and abhorre Death sleepe being onely a continuall imitation of it Hee that seriously contemplates the priviledges and advantages that accompany a Christian Death will be in love with it It is the Refuge of the afflicted and the end of all earthly evils It takes not life from us but presents it to the custodie of Eternity It is not an end but an intermittance of life nor no longer a punishment but a Tribute and we are gainers by it As he who hath a long time layne in a darke dungeon is beyond imagination joyfull when he comes to the light so the soule when shee is freed from the vapours and clouds in which the flesh involv'd her is ravish'd with delight While shee is yet in the body though her ambition reach at Heaven yet is shee still clogg'd with that heavy masse of earth and cannot so nimbly and nobly operate as she would She may fitly be call'd the Guest and the Body the Host that makes her pay dearly for her clayie lodging For if a Magistrate be vexed and busied to subdue and pacifie the Rebels of a seditious Citie needs must the soule be troubled and afflicted who hath a harder office assign'd her which is to bridle and restrain the vitious inordinate dissolute affections which are inseparable adjuncts to her while shee hath a conjunction with the body The prerogatives of Death being so many and so certaine let us no longer condole the decease of this our compleatly noble Friend but congratulate his happy departure hence and his safe arrivall in the Imperiall Heaven When Proculus Iulius had reported to the Romans that hee had seene Romulus and that assuredly hee was a God a Wonder it was saith Livie how much they gave credit to this Tale and how greatly the misse of Romulus both amongst the Commons and Souldiers was by this beliefe of his Immortalitie digested Much more should our sorrow be mittigated by the confidence we have that this our blessed Friends soule is ascended to him from whom it descended When Brasse or Gold is melted to make the Statue of some great deserving Man wee say not that the Mettall is lost but dignified In like case when a Body is turn'd into its first Principles Dust and Ashes wee who have an eye to the glorious Resurrection of it thinke not it is utterly ruin'd but dissolv'd to be refin'd As in the Eclipse of the
seene lye coffind as in glasse Whiles thus his bud dims full flowres and his sole Beginning doth reproach anothers whole Comming so perfect up that there must needes Have beene found out new Titles for new deeds Though youth and lawes forbid which will not let Statues be rais'd or him stand Brasen yet Our mindes retaine this Royalty of Kings Not to be bound to time but judge of things And worship as they merit there we doe Place him at height and he stands golden too A comfort but not equall to the crosse A faire remainder but not like the losse For he that last pledge being gone we doe Not onely lose the Heire but th' honour too Set we up then this boast against our wrong He left no other signe that he was young And spight of fate his living vertues will Though he be dead keepe up the Barony still Will. Cartwright On the much lamented Death of the Lord Stafford T Is not t' enbalme his name or crowne his herse That our sad thoughts flow in our eyes verse Or t' adde a lustre to his dimmed name Which onely now must shine in Heaven and Fame This were to hold a Taper out by night And cry thus shone the glorious Suns faire light To view his rising splendor at our noone Were in a shadow to set out the Sun Nor doe we Cypresse bring in hope of Bayes As death makes many Poets now a dayes Our teares flow by instinct and a cold frost Seazing our Palsie-joynts told what was lost Before the fat all knell not a dirge sung Nere a sad peale of Elegies was rung No bearded wonder or propheticke flame Vsher'd the ruine of his house and name Yet then we melted in a chilling sweat And every fainting brest did something threat Not each dayes wonder some strange newes come Creeping upon us like the generall doome And this was Staffords death in his owne fall A world of people felt their funerall And lost a being they nere had for he Writ not a man but House or Familie Thus have I seene a little silken clew Of compleated twists at the first view Comprised in a palme but ravel'd out And drawne to lines the thread will winde about Countries or townes Great shade the fate was thine Who by the issue of thy Noble line Might soone have peopled Kingdomes but thy all Is now wound up in a small urne or ball And all thy vertues in sad weedes doe lye Onely spun out into thy memory Thus have we lost what goodnesse knew to dwell In flesh and clay more worth then we dare tell As for an Epitaph upon his stone Write this Here lie a thousand Lords in one Geo. Zouch A. M. N. C. OX On the Death of the Noble Lord STAFFORD OThers to Staffords Herse Encomiums give Not that his worth but that their wit may live My Muse hath no such aime it is lesse praise To beare Apollo's then his fun'rall Bayes Nor is 't the Lord I mourne what is 't to me Who am no Herald if a Baron die I doe not hope for fees I 'me none of those That pay downe teares for legacies or clothes My solemne griefe flowes in a Nobler tide Soone as I heard one so well qualifi'd Had put off clay the fright not newes strucke deepe And made my eye of Vnderstanding weepe He was no Pagiant Courtier such as can Onely make legs like a fine Gentleman Though 's outside shew'd all that the nicer eye Of critique Madams could desire to see Yet was his soule more gay his ample brest Was in a silken disposition drest And with Heroicke habits richly lin'd The Vertues had no Wardrob but his mind As th' Honours and the Lands so he alone The worth of all his Ancestours did owne And yet that He is dead so dead that here Is nought preserves his name but 's tombe sheire That Noble Stocke is spent injurious Fate To make a House so ancient desolate Felton kild Englands George and with his knife Onely not cut the thred of others life We had some comfort left in that his blood Was not quite spilt after his fall he stood Transcrib'd in pretty Emblems which we all Read as true Copies of th' Originall But none survives this Phaenix 't is our woe To have this Sunne not set but put out too The Gard'ner weepes not when his Lillies die If they their seed leave as a Legacie But should an onely Flower the Gardens gem Wither in her full pride and of her stem Bequeath no slip the poore mans eyes each plot Of ground would wet without his water-pot No wonder 't is that reverend Arundell And other Lords doe grone out Staffords knell Since at his fall a Race of Heroes dyed Which can't but by Creation be supply'd Ri. West On the Death of the Lord STAFFORD WHat trust to titles shame t' our hopes ther 's gone One who was none can say how many a one Muses you are too few to waite on 's Ghost Wandring in sorry sheetes to tell what 's lost His Peerelesse Body earth'd some eyes may weepe As if they had never seene him but asleepe But those who view'd with somewhat more then eye The finer beauties of thy mind put by The griefe of teares and call their Consistory Of inward Powers to lament thy story Perfection which might tempt the Scribes of Fate To voluntary pennance force their hate Recoyle upon themselves to Nature sweare Rebatement of such rigour Was 't not severe To cast the blackenesse of dead night so soone On Noble lustre entring into noone How is deluding Heav'n thus pleas'd to whet Our hopes for Harvest and then blight the Wheate This was not all great Ghost we connot free Thee from contempt of sad Mortalitie Thou thought'st enough thy star should guide the wise To honour which thy selfe meant to despise Thy high-borne Spirit ripening into Man Deem'd that so scant a measure must needs span Short of thy merit so sliding out o' th' roule Of earthy Titles thou wouldst shift thy soule But yet me thinkes though Heav'n envy our soyle Such vertuous Simples Mercy should not spoile A Garden of it's onely verdant pride Vntill some hopefull plants were set beside The plucks-up Olive that the same sweete veine Might spring and flourish in high bloud againe Our stocke of Honour's is rooted up yet greene Whose draught 's uncoppyed must no more be seene An ancient house in this new rubbish lyes Here urn'd the ashes of whole Families As if the Church in need of Ornaments Should hence her number have of monuments Proud exercise of Sextons who dare live By fatall dust and looke that piety give To see this shrine and know that in this One There liv'd and dy'd a Generation No member of a Tribe who fils this Tombe He 's Sepulchre of Staffords name in whom A Race and Field is lost a Pedegree And Catalogue of Heroes Could not presaging feares which oft divine i th' fall of one the