virtues due: or, A true model of the life of the right Honourable Katherine Howard, late Countess of Nottingham, deceased.  
By T. P. Gentleman.  
Printed at London by Simon Stafford, dwelling in Hosier lane, near Smithfield. 1603.   

❧ To the right Honourable, Charles Howard, Earl of Nottingham, Baron of Effingham, Lord high Admiral of England, of her majesties most Honourable privy Counsel, and of the Noble Order of the Garter, etc.  
RIght Noble Lord, my resolve was advised, to make immoration upon the nicest circumstances of your present haviour, in plentiful and honourable sorrow, whose animal motion might be admoved to the violence hereof: This gave leave to the greater observance which we owe to the deceased, (that is) in protection and contestation: Besides that warrant of the antentique & Censoriall rites, whose example I have here quoted for most Honourable Heraldry, in disposing her funeral torch by due reference, into your surviving hand; neither enfeebling the courtesy of the living▪ nor promising mine own advantage upon your Noble and innated goodness, neither to actuate, & ref●icate molestias, but in mine own affectation to be conformed with that Roman solemnity of dedication,  

And as she was, I write for precedent,  
More of succession, than griefs argument.   
Your Honours, in all the nerves of my ability, Thomas powel.   

To the Reader.  
TO prepare ye to what is writ, I know, my smoothest composure would be too boy sterous, upon the regal nakedness of your impatience. A long preface were a sick feather upon your winged Mercury. And yet, to expose me to vninstructed censure, whose proof is too much in severity, I should release the bond of our reconciliation, & seem to suspect approbation, to be more of fortunes alms, than our own deserving. I imply to your freer spirits, all customary requisites, and to myself reserve this only obiter of opinion: That I write more of duty to the dead, than reputation of living Poesy. In both which, I am wilfully confident, to be confidently willing.  
T. P.   

Resumptio.  

— Cum tonat Ocyus Ilex,  
sulphur discutitur sacro quam tuque domusque.   
T. P.   

virtues due.  

THe Sun but now began to gather fire,  
And lay a sharper edge upon his beams,  
Abated to the fullness of the year,  
As fretted with the salt of Neptune's steams,  
When black solemnity envied anew,  
And soiled his face with a more precious dew:   

Dewed with the most religion of affection,  
Made soft in nature, and in Heraldry:  
The one accusing fate for his election:  
The other, weeping his severity.  
Both from their Cyprus altars offering tears,  
Enough to make him aged in young years.   

It was not for the gods Arcadian theft,  
When he drew dry their udders milch-excesse,  
Nor for his mother Pthias, when she wept  
His rage, that earth maligned his murrinesse.  
But, lo, affections law of like for like:  
It is our nature's freedom to requite.   

For he had lustre on his infant rays,  
To blandish out the glory of his Spring,  
Reft from the falling Lodestar of our days,  
Whose motion was the music which I sing;  
The measure of consent to all her sphere:  
Indeed she was the best in Cynthia's choir.   

She was, (and so are losers still in losing,  
When they recount the worth of what is lost)  
And is not. Cold remembrance ever freezing▪  
When it shall read the story of what's past.  
Yet as she was, repeat for precedent  
More of succession, than griefs argument.   

Was of her train. Eternity's decreeing  
Did dedicate her in her parentage,  
Whose near alliance asked as near a being,  
And gently sealed it on her virgin wax:  
And so, for nature and election,  
Would Cynthia's self endear her as her own.   

She gave her rank, respect, and full access,  
Agnizing her affinity and merit  
With favours, graces after graciousness;  
Wherein she seemed as if she did inherit  
The trust and dignities, which long before  
Her Honourable Ancestors did store.   

Her parents honours did she extraduce  
Into her very disposition;  
As if the general Carcy were infused  
And had no other forms of his division.  
Their ancient unattainted loyalty  
Broad blow'ne, and flush upon her infancy.   

Yet beauty was not only of her blood:  
Her birthday Solstice height unto perfection.  
The Cantharis envies a verdant bud,  
And birth does only counsel to prosection.  
So learned she with the change of every spring,  
To save her blood with heedful dieting.   

Her youth preserved it chaste with continence;  
A virgin diet for the hot intention,  
Which might unglosse his colour: add expense,  
Both of the length & breadth of their dimension,  
But the example of her marriage bed,  
Were Oratory to persuade to wed.   

For after she had blest so many moons,  
As had Astrea, when she was transfixed;  
With more austerity, than that which crowns  
The Roman chastity, did she commix  
Her birth, her blood, Nobility and name,  
To flow more lofty in as rich vain:   

In howard's ample veins; a Family  
Of eminence, derived without distent,  
From the first shield of all their ancestry,  
To this of Charles, the latest Eminent:  
Whose faith and fortunes may they ne'er expire,  
But in a melting firmament of fire.   

She wedded, yet she was a Votary,  
To ministerin consecrated flame,  
And wear Diana's bow upon her thigh,  
Till on a day of sanctified name,  
To store each Nymph with shafts, the goddess bids,  
To fill her quivers all with Poplar twigs,   

That grew upon a levin, which the sea  
Had seasoned thriftily within the shore:  
There Neptune fell in love with 〈◊〉,  
That till this day ne'er saw the Nymph before,  
ne'er had his breast improved or softened,  
But like the temper of his Coral bed:   

From which he lately risse to lay her in,  
And placed his Aggot wreath upon her brows,  
Whose potent charms Diana pardoned him,  
And gave her back the freedom of her vows;  
So she might still be of her fairy train,  
He war with Saturn's sons upon the main.   

And now, Eliza, with her wedlock fate,  
Did wed her to a higher dignity.  
She kept the chair that did suborn her state,  
And graced it like the blue-eyde Cassiope:  
She ne'er surcharged ability with grace,  
But still her own dimensions filled the place:   

Wherein this noble Lady Katherine seemed  
T'anticipate her Mistress bounteous hand,  
As if her offices were but redeemed  
From under meriting, and she did stand  
Alone, and unencountred in her worth;  
One whom inheritance had called forth;   

Or rather providence: for what she was,  
She was to others, through herself intended:  
Like to some interjected leaf of glass,  
That breaks, yet heats, when nearer rays offended.  
She was all Organs, even to the mind,  
Whereby God did insinuate with mankind.   

Her whole mortality had this extent.  
She had affections of immortal sense:  
For she would pity much, and much relent:  
But the affect of greatest presidence  
Over her nature, held no sin to this;  
To leave apt good undone, or do't amiss.   

The more they miss of her that are embayed,  
And fortune fixed for want of sea and scope,  
Their burden with their sail being overlaid:  
Unless they Anchor all their after-hope,  
They miss: alas, I write of that too soon,  
And lend her living-worth for grief to come.   

Yet lived she to outlive that old report,  
Which now again our new world's forms approve:  
That, there is no retirement in the court,  
Where there is much variety to move,  
And steal away. O, there's no life like hers,  
That lived to bury her executors.   

For softness never seized her appetite.  
A bloodless liver lives not on his heat:  
Her resolution was Pr●p●nticke right,  
And forward stemmed against the moons retreat.  
No change, no liberty, no ful-eyde pleasure  
Could bring devotions music out of measure.   

It was for her, the million of her sex,  
And calling, do beside approve their kind;  
Whose story often read, as oft begets  
Opinion, that the sex is so inclined,  
And calling, so disposed unto good,  
As well in Courtship, as in womanhood.   

She was a woman; yet, not one of those  
Whose erogated heat converts to hate.  
It was her honour to forgive her foes,  
Even in their ebb, and full distent of state.  
Alas, she would not take advantage than,  
Lest she should trip the frailty of his man.   

She would not glory his humility,  
Nor actuate her old aggreevances  
O'er weak distress, and present misery:  
Such conquest! O, 'tis base and honourlesse.  
For when I do but second Fortune's stroke,  
I wound a heart that is already broke.   

She was a Courtier too; but as a Star  
Vnfixt, and like Ori●● in a stream;  
As free as feathered Falcons in the air,  
Moved on no other line, but Cynthia's beam:  
Her freer spirit ne'er was put in frame,  
Though she put on herself a Courtiers name.   

For she did hospitable bounty too,  
And ever kept her influence at home;  
Which every Courtier uses not to do,  
Why, she was nothing Courtier, nor her own:  
Her light was made a Sea-mark to distress,  
Where Fortunes wracks arrived their neediness.   

In Court, no study that would apprehend,  
Or ask Religion of her duty more,  
Than, what Eliza gave, might still commend  
Her most magnificence, and fountain store:  
She was not like a Conduit-pipe fast by,  
To turn the stream, & leave the channel dry.   

How many servants of that Royal train  
Could the fresh image of her love excite,  
To witness, she preferred Eliza's fame  
Above her private reputations' height!  
She hated to be hyr'de to do them good,  
Or begged to buy their merits, though she could.   

And yet did her contentment stretch itself  
More amply: Greatness was above her fear;  
A faith beyond the curse that follows wealth,  
Who evermore suspects eruptions near,  
Whose change does change the state of their subjection,  
And gives this duty to the next election.   

Great & secure! Me thinks, 'tis wondrous strange:  
But gracious not envied! Impossible:  
For discontent makes worth his Fret of change,  
And not servility itself speaks well  
Of Honourable birth or betterment:  
Respect, with him is fear; & fear, contempt.   

I know not how respect came over all;  
But the most humble did admire her most:  
A branch of rank love turned to prodigal:  
Such love is still exhaust, or overflows.  
I'll learn ye how she did divert their hate:  
She made herself as humble as their state.   

The list of all her virtues had a name  
Of greater reverence, than had the rest.  
Religion. 'tis a sessions to arraign,  
Detect, and bring our actions to the test.  
And where that list was stack, remiss, & loose,  
Assure ye, it was frailty extraduc'de.   

She had no other principles (God wot)  
Whereby to level and conform her life:  
All was not honest that was safely got:  
She would not by injustice compass right;  
Nor used to say, 'tis Cas●r answers all;  
So thou reserve to stand, may kingdoms fall.   

Her life was but a model imitation,  
Drawn with the freshest colours instance had  
In holy writ, which gave it approbation;  
They were her essence (therefore could not fade)  
Like colour laid in wine: her Lenten black  
Did sit, like Nessus' shirt upon her back.   

At this perfection and maturity,  
She stood in natures frail adoption here,  
When heaven would vouchsafe her first to be  
A mother, and her virtues to appear  
In propagated noblesse of a son,  
That laid his root as far as she begun.   

That first, L. William was of Effingham,  
A Barony, that field and Knighthood earned  
With sweeting spurs, when heraldry deraignd  
His hardiment. O, 'twere a sight to learn,  
And put ambitious fire in any Swain,  
To see Nobility so dearly gained.   

Heaven was delighted in his workmanship,  
And now became more bounteous of his breath,  
Which swelled her womb to be more fruitful yet,  
Derived a second labours where she left,  
A second blessing, and a Charles beside;  
For Honour's lofty bed did open wide.   

A third. Invention, give me back, myself  
Divided. All my numbers keep consent,  
And with my soul my styles ambition melt.  
Each sinew of our duty be attended;  
Forget the funeral state and majesty,  
And prostitution wholly summon me.   

Call her by any epithet expressed  
In virtues Inventory; nay discourse  
Her mother's life: see with what liveliness  
She does insert it, freely, and unforced.  
Be she the noble Countess of Kildare,  
Or Cobham's Baroness; she's wondrous fair.   

A next. The Lady 〈◊〉: here I sho●●d  
Confound my method with a plenteous vain  
Of great devotion, and of wyddowhood:  
But my more free proposements are restrained,  
To show the lost, their last similitude,  
To which the Lady Lus●● much accrude.   

Here, happiness did flo●te at all the line:  
This day accounted for the greatest debt,  
That grace and goodest Stars could her asaigne:  
And till this day her circle never met;  
Now was her happiness so satisfied,  
She knew not what her wish might add beside.   

Contentment crowned her straight beyond the may ne,  
And roughest oppositions in her birth;  
The weeping Crocodile, the Sirens strain,  
And all the Delinitions that invert  
Our, Fie, what ist that we can call our own?  
She passed the seas, & shipwrecked here at home   

Within the ha●en. Now, it was disposed  
With heavenly wisdom, to the best of uses.  
So, we are wise, to purchase from our foes,  
T'enrich the sea with that which land abuses.  
We do secure us in their feebled store.  
Secureness hurts least, when it is most poor.   

The goodness of the Highest left her not▪  
For Neptune, conquering Argo unarrived,  
Must disimbark the golden Fleece she brought,  
In her own haven to be stellifyde,  
And seem above her weeping Marble sphere,  
To swim as free in heaven, as she did here.   

'Twas only in her wishes now to die,  
When as her fullness feared to be o're-ioyd;  
Like those that surfeit of satiety,  
And yet their surquedry is ever void:  
These have their fullness so intemperate,  
Nothing refreshes, till it suffocate.   

She would not have her Summer beams to light  
Upon the rank, and thrifty slime beneath,  
Where honours heat begets the parasite,  
And other monstrous shapes, that will bequeath  
Unto their Cesar, Ioues own heritance,  
And swell his greatness into arrogance.   

She feared that such should know her to be great.  
She knew her greatness was superlative.  
Nature, and grace, and stars their rest had set,  
And every opposition left to strive.  
She wanted nothing of felicity,  
But free commission to desist and die.   

She prayed it, and prevented constant fate,  
That would not her delight should see her sweat  
Out of converse familiar, and innate.  
joy, longer than 'tis fresh, is not complete:  
But like to Times own tunes, that ravish not,  
Because they iygd it, when we were begot.   

This burden would be fain delivered,  
When she had reckoned to maturity,  
Appealing from the Moon that followed,  
The eight, which mortals call an enemy  
Unto conception. Fate and she complyde,  
And in a sevenfold happiness she died.    

The Offering.  

THou that ow'st this breathless beauty,  
Mistress of the days devotion,  
And her blackest rites of duty,  
Guyd'st her timeless, tuneles motion:  
O! I would not leave thee yet,  
Till I see thy Searements ●it.   

Thou, that art complexion careless,  
Let affections arms unfold,  
After last embracings durelesse,  
And upon the hallowedst mould,  
Left for monumental use,  
By thy just extensure choose.   

If the earth deny thee rest,  
Like the soul that lies so soft  
In her groaning, grieved breast,  
Shalt thou there be buried oft.  
Earth affords no freer Tomb;  
None so wide as sorrows womb.   

There in stead of balmde confection,  
Righteous tears, and seasoned sighing  
Sprinkle o'er thy ●east complexion,  
Till they seal thy searements plighting.  
Grateful odours be about thee:  
Truce within, and tears without thee.   

Next, for Scuchio●● o'er thy hearse.  
I that truly would display thee,  
Offer up this sacred verse,  
With the greatest zeal that may be:  
Though thy Herald, length they lack,  
Yet our Scuchion staves are black.   

Leaf by leaf, be open wide;  
Speak to all that pass this way,  
That they part not from thy side,  
Till they read, and reading pray.  
May this story never fade,  
Till thy soul be quick conveyed.   

Angels with their music charms  
All unknown malignity;  
Drown the midnight's high alarm,  
When the sacring summons be:  
Let not her unhallowed breath  
Enter in thy house of death.   

Spirit's sanctified secure thee●  
All corruption quite be spent.  
Let thy nature's works assure thee  
Consummation imminent.  
Though thou left'st them all behind thee,  
Yet their merits there refine thee.   

Works and faith thy soul convey,  
On a heaven-deviding wing.  
Let devotion read and pray.  
Saints and ministering Angels sing.  
All, with nature's latest debt,  
Wipe away thy Marbles sweat.    
FINIS.