Vt hora, sic fugit vita.  
A Commemoration on the life and death of the right Honourable, Sir Christopher Hatton, Knight, late Lord Chancellor of England.  
Wherein triumphant Truth reviveth his memory from the grave: exhorting Nobility, Gentry, and dutiful Subjects, to continue their obedience to God and her Majesty, and to prevent by policy the perilous practices of every civil and foreign enemy.  
Published by john Phillips.  
Fidenti sperata cedunt.  
LONDON Printed for Edward White. 1591.   

TO THE RIGHT WORSHIPFUL Sir William Hatton Knight, Son adopted and Heir to the right honourable Sir Christopher Hatton, late Lord chancellor of England, john Phillips wisheth the fear of God, continuance of health, with increase of worship & virtue.  
IT hath been in all times (right worshipful) a principle observed, that public and apparent virtues in persons deceased, have never been buried in oblivion, but have always been recorded and left to posterities: the end only this, that they who still live, by apt imitation, might be practisers of like virtues. Which in myself considered, I concluded, that great unkindness to God, and injury to remaining Subjects should be offered, if the virtuous life and death of this right honourable deceased Lord, should not be emblazoned. To God unkind, if he, as the author, should not be acknowledged, the cause efficient of all these rich graces, wherewith he was invested: & injury to surviving subjects, if there should not be commemoration of his (more than natural virtues) as by recordation whereof, they might walk & tread the same way and path. Myself I confess, am the least of others, and most unable to perform what I wish, yet will I not be the last that shall use endeavour to effect what I may. (With hoping that you would accept) I presumed to thrust forth this small Pinnace, fraught with simple merchandise, into the harbour of your worship's protection: assuring myself, that as the purest Emerald shineth brightest when it hath no oil, so Truth will delight you, though basely appareled. The shortest and most cloudy day, is a day as well as the longest and brightest, when the sun is in the height of his Horizon. Pardon then I beseech you, wherein I have presumed, and accept (I most humbly crave) what herc I have presented: which if your worship vouchsafe, Truth concludes, herself sufficiently graced, and myself most happy which have been her penman. Of this resting myself assured, I shall continually pray for the increase of your worship, that both in this life you may have your heart's desire, and in the end, fruition of those joys that are endless.  
Tour worships most dutiful to cmmaund  
I. Phillips.   

A COMMEMORATION OF THE life and death of Sir Christopher Hatton, knight, Lord Chancellor of England.  

YOu noble Peers, my native Countrymen,  
I need not show to you my blood nor birth:  
As dust I was, I turn to dust again,  
I go before, but you must to the earth.  
Yet when, or how, to you it is unknown:  
For be you sure the earth doth claim her own.   

It is not gold, nor treasures that are vain, can you preserve when that the time is come:  
Your houses gay wherein you do remain, can you not shield from Gods decreed doom.  
As I am dead, so like wise you shall die:  
But learn by death with me to live on high.   

Though gaping grave enclose my Corpse in clay, and silent I rest covered close in mould:  
Yet from my shrine Truth strives both night and day, to you my mind (good Lords) for to unfold.  
Whereto if case you vouch to yield regard:  
Yourselves with right, I trust, will me reward.   

Which of you could with Hatton find a clause, or say that he unjust or faithless was?  
Did he not live according to the laws? and on the earth his days in duty pass?  
Was not his care set on his God for aye?  
And did not he his sovereign Queen obey?   

Was not his heart bend for his Country's weal? did he not still even from his tender youth  
With rich and poor upright and justly deal, and clothe himself in robes of tried truth?  
If this be true, as no man can deny:  
Fame saith he lives, although our Hatton die,   

Where he might help he would be helping still, where he might hurt he never would do harm:  
His chiefest care was to do good for ill, thus God with grace did gentle Hatton arm.  
No treacherous thought could harbour in his breast:  
The fruits offaith in him were aye expressed.   

The world knows well Truth tells a tale most true, the heavens above of this do witness bear:  
Though Momus mates, and Zoilus do pursue scandals with scorn against the just to rear.  
But such do weave themselves a web of woe:  
For Truth triumphs, who works their overthrow.   

In lusty youth he loved the barbed steed, and Hector-like would break the manly lance:  
For martial acts surnamed Mars indeed was Hatton sweet, that manhood did advance.  
At tilt the prize and praise he duly won:  
His might in arms they felt that with him ran.   

At tourney he and barriers did excel, some peers in arms have borne his battering blows  
In court and town he was beloved well, a scourge he was unto his Sovereign's foes.  
Faith was the shield that worthy Hatton bore:  
Whose like scarce lives, his virtues were so rare.   

Should Truth then dread to spread his virtues out, that for his deeds hath won deserved praise?  
Her cheerful voice, with courage bold and stout, throughout the world his lasting laud shall raise.  
And move thereby the minds of noble men  
To high attempts, to win them honour then.   

Where might the sick, the sore, the halt and blind, reap more relief then happy Hatton gave?  
To suitors poor he ever was most kind, he sought dispatch that they with Prince might have  
Then Lordings learn his steady steps to trace:  
With God and Prince you thus shall purchase grace.   

Thus for his love, his faith and tried truth, he of the Guard, by our most gracious Queen  
Was chieftain made, who firmly held his oath, from hatton's heart faiths fruits to flow were seen.  
A chieftain kind he to the Guard was found:  
Whose want, with grief their tender hearts doth wound   

He sought all means to wish and work their weal, to do them good he took no small delight:  
In their cause he with our good Queen did deal, t'augment their wage he did all that he might.  
From sixteen pence, to twenty pence a day:  
Whilst world doth last he did reduce their pay.   

And by the day three months in the year, two shillings he for them obtained indeed:  
Such fervent love in him did still appear, that they him found a fort in time of need.  
Their wrongs he sought by skill for to redress:  
His love with tears Truth shows they can express.   

In wisdom's bower he did obtain his seat, whose lore to learn he did his time employ:  
And God from heaven with his graces most great, in mercies mild sought to augment his joy.  
For virtues use wherein he took delight:  
Our gracious Queen did dub our Hatton knight.   

Discreet he was, and wary in his ways, rashly to speak at no time he thought fit:  
In faith and fear he spent his Pilgrim's days, for common weal he did employ his wit.  
Where Syno sought his treasons to enure:  
His censures grave convinced the impure.   

And as from Truth at no time he did err, but truly sought the Truth for to uphold:  
He had a care his servants to prefer, the good found grace, the wicked he controlled.  
The poor oppressed he wisely did defend:  
And on the poor a portion he did spend.   

Beloved of all he was for virtues use, the grafts of grace in hatton's breast did grow:  
By wisdom's lore he bridled all abuse, and did himself a loyal Subject show.  
Thus he with God did grace and favour find:  
Whose sacred truth he planted in his mind.   

And with our Queen that princely Phoenix rare, whose like on earth hath seldom times been seen,  
He was esteemed and set by for his care, as noble Peers that aye have trusty been.  
Vizcechamberlain her Highness Hatton made:  
Whose tried truth could never fail ne fade.   

The cursed curs of Catalin unkind, that did conspire against her Royal Grace:  
And to subvert the State did bear in mind, with might and main he sought for to displace.  
Those wily Wolves untrusty to the Crown:  
By justice he threw topsy-turvy down.   

Our princely Queen whom God from danger save, of Counsel hers, did Hatton sure elect:  
Who Solon-like did use his censures grave, the good to shield, the wicked to correct.  
And as he was adorned with graces great:  
So sat he safe in honours blissful seat.   

Lord chancellor then her Grace did him ordain,  
Which charge with care he wisely did discharge,  
For secure sweet none came to him in vain, good conscience had her scope to go at large.  
The right of might need not to stand in awe:  
Ne would he truth should be defaced by law.   

Affection could in Hatton bear no sway,  
No gifts nor gold might once corrupt his mind:  
Fraud to subvert, he studied night and day,  
To equity his heart was aye inclined.  
Where conscience was corrupt and found unclean, to vanquish he, by wisdom sought the mean.   

Oppressed men from danger he did shield,  
Their woeful wrongs he wisely did redress?  
In deep despair sweet comfort he did yield,  
To ease their grief that languished in distress.  
And where as Truth durst scarcely show her face,  
Fraud was subdued, and foiled with disgrace.   

The Laws he sought, with conscience for to use,  
Triumphant Truth, he seated in her throne:  
To hear the poor he never did refuse,  
Right glad he was to help them to their own.  
Wrongs went to wrack, Craft could no harbour find,  
To maintain truth our Hatton was inclined.   

Thus Lordings all his life you may behold,  
That living hear hath won deserved fame:  
And though his Corpse lie covered close in mould,  
In Court and town shall live his spotless name.  
Death dies in him, his virtues death hath slain,  
And he by death eternal life doth gain.   

Yet from his grave, Truth doth you all exhort,  
To link your hearts and minds in loyal love:  
Let faith in you build such a famous fort,  
That nothing may from truth your minds remove.  
Though Pope and Spain, against your peace do jar,  
Withstand their rage, prepare your yourselves to war.   

Clap corselets on, your standards take in hand,  
Your barbed steeds bestride with courage stout:  
Brandish your sword, fight for your native land,  
By Seas and shores beset your foes about.  
Now is the time where honour may be found.  
Think on the acts, your Ancestors have done.   

Haste to your ships, hoist sails in name of God,  
Man you your coast, march after warlike Drum:  
Your Ensigns brave, each where display abroad,  
Down with your foes, that for your spoils do come.  
Take Lions hearts, fear not your hateful foes;  
But let them feel, your manly battering blows.   

They come to sack, your Cities, Forts, and Towers,  
Your Wives and maids they purpose to deflower:  
Stand to it then, and crack those crackers crowns,  
That think to win your wealth, within an hour.  
Be bold in God, and never turn your backs,  
But beard those braves, that mind to work your wracks.   

You are, and have been feared over all,  
England's an Isle, of stout and hardy men:  
Be strong in faith, your foes down right shall fall,  
For one of you, in arms shall vanquish ten.  
You fight for God, and God your guide shall be,  
And from the hands of enemies set you free.   

Richard the first, of England famous King,  
Good Lordings vouch, to call unto your mind:  
Whose Martial acts, throughout the World doth ring.  
The Heathen rout, of Pagans most unkind  
His force have felt; whose manly conquering hand,  
No Pagan proud was able to withstand.   

And then shall Spain, a sink of deadly sin,  
Or raging Rome, a cage of Birds unclean:  
Be bane of you and yours, as they begin?  
Or from your heads, the crest of glory glean.  
As erst of yore, pluck up those rotten weeds;  
Let heaven and earth, record those conquering deeds.   

Edward the third, your King of rich renown,  
Against the French did use his conquering sword:  
maugre their beards, he did possess their Crown,  
The French were feign, to serve him as their Lord.  
Take courage then, maintain your Country's right,  
'Gainst Rabsica, in God's name enter fight.   

Henry the fift, I wish you not forget,  
At Agent Court, think what a field he fought:  
When all the power of France him round beset,  
Ten thousand men, them to subjection brought.  
Though night before, they Bonfires great did make,  
And made their boasts, what prisoners they would take.   

But they that brag of conquest and renown,  
Before the field be fought, or trust their strength:  
We see the Lord in moment can cast down,  
And give the weakest the victory at length,  
Though England's King, and his, they bought and sold,  
The French were slain, though they to brag were bold.   

Then though to Spain, the Pope have given your land,  
And your good Queen deposed from her Crown:  
A conquest win, your weapons take in hand,  
The pelting pope, and Spaniards proud beat down.  
As erst tofore, you Conquerors have been  
Through world, now let, your conquering deeds be seen.   

What Nation yet, that menac'st you with war,  
But you have met, and given the utter foil:  
Snaffle those Coultes, that at your peace do jar,  
And beard those braves that labour for your spoil.  
Fight for yourselves, your wives and Children now,  
To strangers Yokes, your necks do never bow.   

Thus Truth her charge, to rich and poor hath told,  
From this good Lord, whose life to you is known:  
And Truth to you such tidings will unfold,  
As may enforce both young and old to moan.  
Mark hatton's end, whom death from us hath reft,  
Yet he good name to conquer death hath left.   

Thus as in health, in truth he God did praise,  
In sickness his, he did extol his name,  
His hope was heaven, by faith on Christ he stays,  
And battle doth 'gainst sin and hell proclaim.  
Rebelling flesh he manly did subdue,  
And in sweet Christ his health he did renew.   

Most like a Lamb amidst his grievous pain,  
He bears the Cross that God upon him laid:  
With patience he his anguishes sustains,  
In extrem'st grief most faithfully he prayed.  
Christ was the rock, whereon he sought to build,  
All other means this Christian Lord exiled.   

Thus in God's truth his heart and mind was staid,  
He studied still to exercise his Law:  
by-paths to tread he ever was afraid,  
Of judgement he did always stand in awe.  
His Lord and God, right glad he was to serve,  
He from his hests, of purpose would not swerver.   

Thus spent this Lord his time in his distress,  
On God's sweet will he always did depend:  
To handfast Christ by faith he forth did press,  
And he through grace, did sweet relief him send.  
Though body his, were feeble, faint, and weak;  
His soul was strong, Christ kept the same from wreak.   

When physic sought, his health for to recure,  
He held God's word the physic for the Spirit:  
From thence he drank such precious water pure,  
As in the heavens augmented his delight.  
Yet physic show'd on him her wont skill,  
But all in vain, for God must have his will.   

Our gracious Queen, of courtesy the flower,  
Fair England's Gem: of lasting bliss and joy:  
Whom God long shield with arm of might and power,  
From all her foes that would work her annoy.  
From Rich mount came, this Lord for to relieve;  
Whose Princely sight, great comfort did him give.   

All means she sought to work her hatton's ease,  
Most loving words she gave the sick and weak:  
Her highness voice his griefs did much appease,  
His heat revived to hear her Highness speak.  
physicians then, had charge to show their skill  
Upon this Lord, as they would win good will.   

And they with care, (as subjects to her Grace)  
Obedient were, to wait upon their cure:  
On whom they wrought, God knows a certain space,  
Devising how, their health he might procure.  
Five days our Queen remained with the distressed,  
Who thought himself through her for to be blest.   

She took her leave and bad this Lord farewell,  
And he to heaven with hands outstretched high:  
Calls unto him, that in the heavens doth dwell,  
With grace from heaven her Highness to supply.  
Long live said he, most gracious Queen in peace,  
God make thee strong, the rage of foes to cease.   

Thus prayed our Queen to God to send him health,  
And he to heaven for her safeguard doth call:  
That long she might live in the common wealth,  
To shield the good and bring the bad to thrall.  
He took his leave of his most gracious Queen,  
And praised God she had his comfort been.   

Physicians than did on this Lord attend,  
And grave divines were ever at his hand:  
But that which God doth mind to bring to end,  
It's vain for man to gain say or withstand.  
His hope was heaven, his trust was in God's son;  
Small was the ease, that he by physic won.   

Time passeth on, and calls this Lord away,  
The Sexton weights to ring his doleful Knell:  
But he prepares himself to watch and pray,  
He leaves the world, and hopes with Christ to dwell.  
And as by Christ in truth this Lord was taught,  
With th'oil of faith his Lamp was fully fraught.   

Securely he, to sleep thought it not meet,  
The sleep of sin, he did abandon quite:  
He looked for Christ, his Lord and Saviour sweet,  
His hope and trust in his dear death was pight.  
His wedding Robes with joy he did provide,  
In hope to feast with Christ and his sweet Bride.   

What were the words he to the world did leave?  
He by his will all things in order set:  
He sought no man of duty to deceive;  
His hope was Christ, from him he comfort fet.  
And as he had been every poor man's friend,  
So he in mind the poor had to his end.   

The Schools of skill, where science doth abound,  
He thought upon: and daily had in mind  
Poor Captives that in clogs of care are bound,  
To ease their grief he some relief assigned.  
His servants all, whose love to him was tender,  
For service done, he duly did remember.   

But waxing faint, and drawing to his end,  
He leaves his Queen unto the Lord of might:  
Desiring him, from grief her to defend;  
And all her foes to foil and put to flight,  
From treasons wild, and Traitors, Lord her save,  
And let thy Truth, through world her passage have.   

Farewell my Peers, the Lord God be your guide,  
Her Counsel grant, with thy grace to direct:  
That they a salve may day by day provide,  
To shield the good, and cut off the infect.  
Her highness weal, God make them still to mind,  
And to root up rebellious plants unkind.   

You manly Knights and Gentlemen adieu,  
Be strong in Truth, and constant to your Queen:  
Farewell to you good Subjects just and true,  
Now from your hearts let loyalty 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
Uphold the state, be Pillars found of 〈◊〉:  
False not your faith, to God and Prince be just.   

Be not seduc'st, by any popish mean;  
Abhor and hate their doctrine most unpure:  
Those rascal Priests, as Traitors hold unclean,  
That would you from obeisance due allure.  
Cleave you to Christ, let Pope and blind guides go,  
They speak of peace, but mind your overthrow.   

Thus time in Truth run over fast away,  
And sickness sharp gave more and more increase:  
And death doth wait, to close his corpses in clay,  
But he for grace, to call doth never cease.  
Sweet Christ I sue, for mercy unto thee;  
Bow down thine ear, from hell my soul set free.   

His son adopt, Sir William Hatton Knight,  
He doth exhort obediently to live:  
In God and Truth he wills him to delight,  
And to his Prince her honour due to give.  
Thus shalt thou win deserved praise and fame,  
And spotless keep for ever hatton's name.   

And thanks to you my Servants for your pain,  
Henceforth for me you may take ease and rest:  
I see with you I shall not long remain,  
For death to sack my life is present priest.  
But pray my faith in Christ may never fail,  
Life is no loss, death works for mine avail.   

And now sweet death most welcome unto me,  
Thy strokes ne can, ne shall me once dismay:  
No grief but joy, I shall obtain by thee,  
Although thou come to take my life away.  
Yet Christ to me a Crown of life will give,  
Death dies 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 ●ith him shall live.   

I call to t● 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Saviour come,  
My silly 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉:  
And in the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 of doom,  
A 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Lord me make.  
I come 〈◊〉, thy 〈◊〉 Lord receive,  
My 〈◊〉 to 〈◊〉, 〈◊〉 soul to thee I le●….   

O happy 〈◊〉 that made so good an end,  
Thy Queen thy want, with noble Peers doth wail:  
Thy 〈◊〉 adopt, laments his dearest friend,  
Dry dumps of dole, constrains his joy to fail.  
Poor Suitors weep, thy servants pensive are;  
The needy poor with tears, their woes declare.   

Thus Truth the truth hath set before your eyes,  
His life and death most truly is set down:  
And let the truth both rich and poor suffice,  
Who spreads his praise, in every Port and Town.  
A godly life he led upon the earth,  
And in God's fear did render up his breath.   

Then Lordings yield in weeds of wailful woe,  
To bring his corpse unto the gaping grave:  
he's gone before, the way he doth you show,  
And you yourselves of life no charter have.  
Then think on death, which way so ere you wend,  
He follows you, your pilgrimage to end.   

Thus though this Lord unto the world be dead,  
His faith in Christ the joys of heaven hath won:  
Sin, Hell, and Death, he under feet doth tread,  
And lives in bliss, with Christ; Gods only son.  
Then Lordings change your griefs to joy again,  
For Hatton lines and death in him is slain.   
FINIS.