THE Life and Death of Sir Philip Sidney, late Lord governor of FLVSHING: His funerals Solemnized in Paul's Church where he lieth interred; with the whole order of the mournful show, as they marched thorough the city of London, on Thursday the 16 of February, 1587. AT LONDON. ¶ Printed by Robert Walde-graue, dwelling without Temple-bar near unto Sommerset-house. 1587. To the right Honourable Lord Robert Devorax, Earl of Essex, Viscount Hereford, john Philip his faithful well willer, wisheth increase of honour in this life, and in the world to come life everlasting. RIght honourable, when I considered with myself these no less than dangerous days, I purposed with deliberation to have written some thing that might have tended to your better liking, but in the mean season the time to the great grief of all those that fear God, love his glorious Gospel (without feigning) rendered the fruits of loyalty to her excellent majesty, and are careful lovers of their native country, presented before me a pitiful spectacle, the view whereof as it was lamentable, so thought I not to overslip it without the remembrance of his deserved fame, which, despite of death, shall live for ever, albeit his want in Court, Town and country, be bewailed of Prince, nobility, Gentlemen, rich and poor. This Phoenix sweet Sidney was the flower of courtesy, who in his life time gave a perfect light in his conversation to lead men to virtue, the fruits whereof so glistered in the eyes of mortal creatures, that by his example they might both learn to fear God, to glory in sincerity, to abound in loyalty, & to become careful lovers of their native country. This even this most worthy Knight passing his pilgrimage in this terrestrial vale of too manifold miseries, so behaved himself that for the exercise of perfect piety, he was honoured and highly esteemed of all men, to the poor he was merciful, to the learned liberal, to Suitors a great comfort, to the fatherless favourable, to the widows, helpful, and to say the truth, his hand, his heart, and purs●e, was always ready to support the distressed, with goodmen he was delighted, and with them always ever conversant, and as he himself had scaled Parnassus and sat with Citheria amongst the Muses, so gloried he in wisdom and the lovers of the same with the perverse, the froward and malicious such as were contemners of truth enemies of her majesties most royal person, and conspiring Catalins against their native country, who can say that sweet Sidney was ever touched with one spot of disloyalty: nay, who can not say, but that he carried in his secret bosom a heart vndesiled, a clear conscience, & a mind garnished with innocency. But alas this bright burning lamp is extinguished by death who hath robed the prince of as loyal a subject as ever lived, disinherited the noble peers of a faithful friend, and spoiled the commons of a careful comforter, whose loss both Prince, peers and subjects woefully bewail. But is Sidney dead, no he liveth, his virtues in this life have made a conquest of death, and in the world to come his faith hath obtained him the glorious presence of jesus Christ in the kingdom of heaven. And to put you out of doubt, his ●●●tues so revive him from the grave, that he in truth speaketh unto you, whose voice if you will vouchsafe to hear, not only you (right honourable but all other noble estates, Gentlemen and others shall understand that Sir Philip Sidney, to his ever enduring glory hath made a conquest of death by fame in this life, and is enthronized before God with his sacred saints in the kingdom of heaven. Thus craving pardon at your Lordship's hands for my overboldness, the time commandeth me to cease, sith that the truth triumphantly approacheth to accompany this worthy knight, whose plea, she most willingly maintaineth. Thus with my hearty prayers to the almighty for your Lordship's health I conclude, beseeching him in this life to defend you from all peril and danger, yea most happy victory in this life over all the enemies of God and her royal majesty, and in the world to come, crown your head with honour and glory in his celestial kingdom. Your honours most humble and faithful well-willer john Philip. The Life, Death, and Funerals, of Sir Philip Sidney knight. YOu noble Brutes bedecked with rich renown, That in this world have worldly wealth at will: Muse not at me, though death have cut me down, For from my grave, I speak unto you still. UUhilst life I had, I never meant you ill, Then think on me that close am couched in clay, And know I live, though death wrought my decay. I need not I, record my blood, ne birth, For why? to you my parentage is known: My mould was clay, my substance was but earth, And now the earth enjoys again her own, My race is run, my days are overthrown. Yet Lordings l●st, your patience here I crave, Hear Sydneis' plea, discussed from his grave. The fear of God, I fixed before my face, His precepts pure, to learn I did delight. The fruits of faith in me possessed place, My glory was to do the thing was right, In wisdoms bower I my pavilion pight. And lying here, though death my foil did frame, To conquer death I spotless kept my name. Triumphant truth had place within my breast, Her happy hests, I harboured in my heart, Her paths to tread, my feet were ever priest, And in the truth I played my pilgrim's part, And truth in time, according my desert, From time to time rewarded me worth praise, But time in truth did finish up my days. Where I might help, to harm I never meant where I might hurt, to help I had a care. Each ill with good, to guard I was content, Of rash revenge, for wrongs I did beware. To maintain peace my mind I did prepare, Where discord dwelled, her tents I sought to shun. The world can tell, if this I have not done. First God I sought in spirit and truth to serve, On him alone my hope and trust was set. From his sweet word I never sought to serve, But thence by faith, food for my soul I fet. what Christ had done I never would forget, My hope and trust was in his death and blood. For none but he I knew could do me good. Buy paths to pace I never gave consent, The Siren songs could no time me deceive. To rest on Christ my faith was ever bend, And unto him I constantly did cleave. Of his sweet word, none could my soul bereave, The light I loved, and Christ the shining sun So cleared mine eyes, that darkness I did shun. The shepherd sweet that broke the bread of life, I could discern by truths true Trumpets sound. The servant strange that bred debate and strife, My conscience came, I knew, by craft to wound. But wolves are oft in silly lambs skins found, And I their wiles could through my Christ descry. That from the fold I caused the wolf to fly. Thus as to God obedient I was seen, whose sacred truth was settled in my breast. A spotless heart I rendered to my Queen, whose honour I for to uphold was priest. The fruits of faith in me were aye expressed, Her joy was mine, her grief my deadly woe, what Sidney says, the world will speak I know. An earnest love I to my country had, The Commons weal I planted in my mind. The noble peers were of my company glad, No breath of troth in me could any find. To virtues hests my heart was aye inclined, But in the world my dated days are done. My time is spent, mine hourglass is run. Yet whilst I lived (aye me) my heart was woe, To see some range as wretchles minded mates, Seeking by slights to work the overthrow, Of sincere truth, still kindling up debates, Like frantic friends, foreseeing not their fates: That headlong run, without regard at all, By breach of truth to shame to make them thrall. I saw how some of Manna made too slight, Preferring chaff before the finest wheat, Striving amain for to eclipse the light, And in the mist to feed on grosser meat, Against the Lord their malice waxed great. But he his Church, and glory will maintain, maugre the rage of cruel cursed Cain. In cestuous Rome, that cage of birds unclean, Her shrieking Owls hath into England sent The subjects hearts, from their good Queen to glean, Seducing souls, to use that they invent, The beast of Rome, to gape for blood is bend, whose merchant men incensed with ceaseless ire, 'Gainst God and Prince made some unkind conspire. All this I saw, which made me sob and wail, To see the crew of Dathan to increase, No grief to this, that faith in men should fail, who strive to change by blood our days of peace, Be thankful then and stand with sin at strife, So shall your God redubble thrice your joy, and graciously defend you from annoy. He for her sake hath garnished you with peace, Your virgin Queen is careful for your nead, Her studies set your welfare to increase, Then like good subjects loyally do deal, and as her love to you she doth reveal. with love requite her loving heart again, And pray with you her grace may long remain. My Countrymen engraft my words in mind, For wonders great for ye the Lord hath wrought, Be thankful then his favour you do find. For as by him Daniel from den was brought, So he for you that of no comfort thought, Gave unto you to free ye from distress, Your royal Queen to multiply your bliss. Twenty nine years you have her grace possessed, Your sovereign Queen, a mother mild to you. A careful nurse that helps all such oppressed, As unto her for princely comfort low, To God and Prince remember then your vow, Live subject like and then take this from me, Redoubled thrice her happy days shallbe. And you that carp with Catiline for spoil, And would convert your quiet peace to war, Have some remorse unto your native soil, Let not the Pope procure you thus to jar. Have care to Christ and know you christians are, It's he, and none but he that must you save, Mark well my words, though that I sleep in grave, In marshal feats I settled my delight, The stately steed I did bestride with joy. At tilt and turney oft I tried my might, In these exploits I never felt annoy. My worthy friends in arms did oft employ, Themselves with me to break the shivering spear, But now my want they wail with many a tear. My spoused wife my Lady and my love, whilst life I had did know my tender heart. But God that rules the rolling skies above, Did think it meet we should again departed. His will is done, death is my due desert, She wants her make, I fro my dear am gone. She lives behind her lover true to morn. In Flaunders I against the spanish rout, that spit their spite against my God and Prince, that seek by force like tyrants bold and stout, those towns and forts that fear God, to convince, on barbed stead as one for their defence, encountered oft, amidst the troop of those, repaying them with many bloody blows. The Canon's crack, my courage could not quail, like Mars his knight I rushed amidst the throng, and to the flight unto my great avail, I drove them oft and laid the proudst along, my steed was slain the musketeers among, when I myself received my fatal wound, yet horsed again from them conveyed round. My grief was great yet was my glory more, that I escaped the field from out the hands, the English camp with tears did me deplore, but life we see in fortune's balance stands, death forceth not possessions goods nor lands, the rich and poor to him are all alike, when God commands, he spareth not to strike. The chiefest hope I had was in sweet Christ, to him I fled, as to my dearest friend, and as in truth I laboured to persist, so in the truth I made my faithful end, My leave I took of every loving friend, I told them plain my dying day drew near, and that I had no long abiding here. My worldly goods I wisely did dispose, and to the world that was the worlds I left, The noble Earl of Leicester. Mine uncles heart was wrapped with heaps of woes, to see me thus a flowering youth bereft, Care clad my friends, their hearts a sunder cleft, my servants minds were over whelmed with grief, but none but Christ was found my comfort chief. My brother dear to God I did commend, Desiring him the Lord of hosts to fear, and as I live, so to his latter end, I gave him charge the tongue of truth to bear, to Sy●●● mates I wish him give no ear, But as I had been loyal to my Queen. So had I hope his faith should flourish green. My loving wife my Lady and my dear, with all my heart I had for aye adieu, Earl of war wick and his Countess. and thus I said, O Warwick noble peer, thy Nephew now thy face shall never view, God bless my Lord and Countess his most true I leave you hear, from you I go my way, I die to world yet hope to live for aye. And now adieu to Pembrakes' noble Earl, to Countess thine my sister kind farewell, I leave you all Christ his precious pearl, with whom my faith persuadeth me to dwell, By faith in him, I vanquish death and hell, these die in me though death do cut me down, For Christ I know with life my head will crown. My Devorax, my dear, my joy, my friend, of Essex Earl ten thousand times adieu, Earl of Essex. to God with heart I humbly thee commend, hoping in heaven thee face to face to view. Mourn not for me, though death my life subdue, I live to die, and die to live in deed, my life was lent, and death hath cut life's thread. But yet I know my peers will think on me, my guileless ghost shall never them forget, their good wills shall for aye remembered be, that to the grave my corpse with honour fet, as in my life they love on Sidney set, so from my grave I give them thanks again, that to the earth to bring me take the pain. First to the poor I clad in weeds of woe, 32. mourners, poor men representing the nnmber of his years. whose blubbered eyes did show their inward grief, the yeoman's looks their heavy cheer did show, and of their care I was their causer chief, the gentles all languished without relief, they left their silks to think upon my wrack, and wailful wise were clothed all in black. The drum and fife rang forth my wailful knell, a woeful march the knights and Captains past, the ensigns wrapped foretold all was not well, to see my days by birefull death defaced, my standard brave far out of order placed, trailed on the ground, in grievous doleful wise, Made rich and poor, with plains to pierce the skies. My barbed steeves appointed for the field, Whereon I erst encountered with my foe, Contrary kind enforced were to yield, And for my want a course of care did shoe, My warlike lance, of me beloved so, in pieces burst, and all to shivers torn, Gave all estates occasion meet to mourn. Before my corpses, six Harholdes passed on, The first my spurs with pensive tacks did bear. The second he my want for to bemourn, Supported sure the gaunlits I did wear, The third my sword and shield upright did rear, The fourth in hand my crest and colours had, The fift and six, with vissardes wan and sad, My coat of arms did bear in equal wise, Next came my corpses, by worthy Chieftains borne, whose joys were sact, the tears fell from their eyes, their mazed minds with care were ell forlorn, the standers by for Sidney's want did mourn, their tender hearts, did grieve that I was gone, Throughout the streets, no sign of mirth was shown. Earl of Leaster, Huntingdon and Essex. Next to my corpses to weep my sudden fall, My brother dear in weeds of woe was dight, On horseback then my piers to sorrow thrall, with watered eyes bewailed a marshal Knight, L. Willoughby And after them in order road aright, My loving Lords with care and grief oppressed, L. North. And every where to mourn my foes were priest. Then mounted well next them in open show, Of flanders did, the courteous states succeed, The estates of Flaunders their grief was great, their stomachs fraught with woe, th●● did my want, of woe a well spring breed. But as of Prince and piers I was beloved indeed. So London left me not forgotten quite But gave to me the thing that was my right. For next the states in gowns of violet fair Lord Maior did with Senators most grave L. Mayor of Lon 24. Ald. with M.W. Fleetwood On horseback make to mourn me their repair, But God hath that that he unto me gave, though I be dead, my Christ my soul will save, He is and was the pillar of my trust, I know at last that rise again I must. Next these my friends in order passed on, The gentle crew of Grocer's comely clad. These, these my friends, their loving friend did moon, The worshipful company of the Grocers richly attired with their Livery hoods on their shoulders. they for their friend to mourn occasion had, Next these the drumbs and mischiefs with sounds right sad, My passing bell and knell with care did ring, Thus to the grave with dole they did me bring After whose sound a careful Chieftain passed, Who brought with him a band of marshal wights All which with woe did to my Burial haste, As men amazed bereft of their delights. Not wotting how in war to show their mights, Their muskets borne so out of order clean, As though they knew not what the war did mean. Then after them the armed pikemen high, Trailing the pikes along upon the ground, The sight whereof made many a weeping eye, the soldiers joys care crossed with grief to wound, Thus mourn they 〈…〉 moment 〈…〉 Even thus and 〈…〉 Mi●●●ies I was brought, To Saint Paul's Church where I my rest 〈…〉 Next after these, the Holder's marched on, In weeds of woe to testify their grief, their heavy cheer was seen, my death they moon But all in vain, tears gave me no relief. God was my guide, Christ was my helper chief, to whom for aid and comfort sweet I fled. with whom I thee, though I to world be dead, Then as before, the Pikemen came again, Yielding their looks of anguish grief and smart, their Ensigns val●e, bade them all mirth refrain, And on they passed as men clean out of heart. then came the shot, who played their pensive part, No peace was ha●d, to render any clap, Thus sorrowed they with tears my great mishap. But when in clay, my corpses was cloasly shrined, A vale of shot rang out my fatal knell. than every man cast sorrow from his mind, the Pikes were vauncst, the Holbertes borne right well, And marshially then bad they me far well. the drumbs and mischiefs then sounded were aloft, And on they marched in order as they oft. Thus from my grave I bid you all adieu. Your Sidneis w●●●es remember rich and poor, Though dead, my life doth daily call to you. Think ye how death knocks daily at life's door, Provide your lamps of oil prepare you s●o●e, My tale is told, and I my race have run, My body earth, my soul the heavens hath won. Virtutis Laus actio.