JUSTA HONORARIA: OR, FVNERAL RITES IN HONOR To the great MEMORIAL of my Deceased MASTER, The Right honourable, Robert Earl of Essex and Ewe, Viscount Hereford, Lord Ferrers of Chartley, Bourchier and louvain, &c. Humbly Presented to all them that are Real Mourners at his FUNERAL,  
By Daniel Evance Master of Arts: said Suss. Coll. Cam. and Servant-Chaplin to his Honor.  — Post Fata superstes. 
London, Printed for Edward Husband, Printer to the honourable House of COMMONS.   

The Licence.  

SO the State orders, that which walks abroad  
Must pass the Press by Licence; So these should,  
So would these Papers, did they not receive  
From the High Subject that Prerogative:  
Let ESSEX privilege the pomp and matter  
Of His great Death into an Imprimatur.  
The Printer that Prints HIM, may truly go  
For one that Prints cum privilegio.  
And that, which bears HIS NAME, may pass and be  
A Copy Printed by Authority.    

TO The most Fragrant Dust of my Deceased MASTER.  

MOre fragrant then the bruised Pomander,  
Such is the savour of thy richer Name,  
As it diffuseth from the broken frame  
Most sweetness in thy relics and remainder.  
'Tis of thine own we offer unto Thee,  
The Incense fuming from thy Memory.   

More fragrant then the Beds where Spices breed,  
Which softest winds have gently fanned and galed,  
And temperate beams by little have exhaled,  
Until the boundless sweetness do exceed.  
'Tis not for us— Our Flowers to bring and strew,  
But that our Garlands on thy hearse may grow.   

More fragrant then the air, that moves about  
The Arabian bide, as she does fan the flamme  
Which in the Spices from her clappings came,  
And with perfumes into her Urn goes out.  
What Balm, or Odours can we pour on thee  
In whom our offerings must Embalmed be?   

Yet we could lave the Fountains in our head,  
And gush forth Rivers from our flowing eyes,  
And spare some Streams of Blood for Eligies  
To melt the World with this, My Lord is dead.  
Nor would we think our Obsequies mis-spent,  
But that they can't make up THY MONUMENT.   

Some( hastened by officious Piety)  
Have crowned themselves by Crowning of thy hearse,  
Melting their hearts to Elegeick Verse.  
And others would for tears of duty vie:  
But when they think of weeping, they grow dry,  
stunned with the Muse of such an Elegy.   

'Tis easy grief, that hath a vent to break  
Out into sorrow at, or that can weep;  
Or Laws in Mourning can distinctly keep;  
The Heart is eased when the Tongue can speak.  
But solemn sorrow is both dumb and dry;  
The heart weeps inward, and not by the eye.   

They are the Vulgar Rites, and Obsequies  
Of Common Funerals, To weep in Verse,  
And talk of drilling tears upon an hearse;  
Such prattling weepers make dry Elegies.  
Give me that grief which does not wet, but burn  
And parch the shrivil'd heart into an Urn.   

I have no watery Goddess to implore,  
Nor Ghosts of Poets to disturb from sleep  
To teach me how my Stops and Tones to keep;  
The boundless passions of our hearts are more.  
( Yet we scarce feel the loss of such a Treasure)  
Then can be taught to keep or Time or Measure.   

If all those Artist-Mourners, who had skill  
To make the streams of hallowed passion flow  
From Stones and Marble, were in action still;  
Yea, could I hire them, and employ them now,  
They could not swell the tides of passion higher  
Then my Lords Merits and my own desire.   

At once: 'Tis not because thy hearse— a Shrine,  
Or thy Effigies wants a Coronet,  
Or Funerals go without their Banners set;  
Nor yet, because I think so well of mine:  
But that a Servants obsequy might rest  
Upon his Masters hearse, of Masters best.   
Esse sui volvit Monumentum & pignus amoris, & pignus observantiae, DANIEL EVANCE.   

JUSTA HONORARIA: OR, FUNERAL RITES In Honor To the great Memorial of my Deceased MASTER, &c.  

1. Upon my Lords Sickness.  
Being first only for four days Aguishly distempered, then fiercely assaulted with a Lethargy.  

I.  
ALthough the trumpet did but softly blow  
At the first onset of my Lords Disease,  
Yet to a loud Alarum it did grow,  
And the fierce Charger would have no appease:  
Death does but Face at first, but after Fate  
Begins the Storm, no Quarter after that.   

II.  
Had not the issue  told me the decree,  
I could have wished, that marshal skill had been  
As quick and strong to foil this Enemy,  
As in all Battels to stand out and win  
As nimble to descry, prevent, depose  
The Sratagems of Death, as of his Foes:   

III.  
Or that Physitians had had eyes to see  
The secret trains of Death, which lay within  
The Undermines of his close Destiny,  
This sudden blow, it may be, had not been:  
But God, that orders by foreseing, he  
Orders the Seers, that they shall not see:   

IV.  
Yet I— But wishes will not win the thing;  
Why should I wish Impossibilities?  
A Kingdoms Vote would Vote him back again,  
If it were lawful to mount up our cries.  
Yea, could this Prisoner be redeemed forth,  
The Ransom of three Kingdoms it were worth.   

V.  
So large a share this Marble shoulder bore  
( The great coloss of the Church and State)  
That if he had been shaken, and no more,  
We might have lost some Rafter-pins by that;  
But how does Sions consecrated wall  
Bow down and tremble at his sudden fall?   

VI.  
Both Church and State began to shake when he  
Was scarce yet shaken with an Ague-fit;  
How will the downfall of this Pillar be  
An over-turning Earthquake unto it,  
But that the hand that pulls down one can raise  
Yet more Supporters to the sinking Bvys?   

VII.  
As first the gathering clouds did but begin  
To cast a scarf upon this brighter Sun,  
Our darkened Hemisphaere did then shut in  
As if the day declined, and would have gone;  
And now the Sun is set, we may have light  
From greater Stars— But Day is turned to Night.   

VIII.  
Let Galen call it a Metathesis  
When sickness runs into a Transmutation;  
A few such sudden Changes more as this  
Might quickly change the Frame of Church and Nation.  
There was no Healing then; O let that hand  
Which then denied the cure, now heal the Land!    

2. Upon my Lords unexpected Death  
( Being in his Life of a firm and strong constitution) and with one sudden fit taken away.  

I.  
I Am no Soldier, but some Soldiers say  
Where Art and Nature do combine  
To magazine  
Their Skill and strength within one Line,  
By sudden storms and batteries they may  
Attempt to lose their men, not win the day.   

II.  
I 'm no physician, but Physitians say,  
Where God and Nature do agree  
To fortify  
This little Isle of man in me,  
Sickness may make her sierce assaults, and stay  
Facing a day or two, and go away.   

III.  
I 'm no Diviner, but Diviners prate,  
If Stars do favour, they can tell  
Infallible  
When I shall be sick or well,  
And as Nativities they calculate,  
They'll undertake to Death to destinate:   

IV.  
But( call me what you will) thus much I know,  
The strongest constitution may  
In half a day  
Like Snowy Mountains melt away.  
Sickness unfelt, unseen, may softly go  
Through hidden veins, and give a sudden blow.   

V.  
Lord, why do we on tottering reeds rely?  
Princes are but a puff of breath,  
Something beneath  
The fainting Grass, that withereth.  
O what a brittle piece of vanity  
Is man, that does but fall asleep, and die!   

VI.  
You proud Considers in the Stars, who know  
And can foretell by their consents  
Future events  
Both on Kings and Parliaments,  
Why was not this foretold us long ago  
That England might be fenced for such a blow?   

VII.  
The Stars can never prie into Decrees,  
And as for those, that pack a Spell  
And think to tell  
Contingences by Oracle,  
The Wisemen are but Fools, their Tokens less  
Then Folly, and their Knowledge Foolishness.   

VIII.  
And what if such a change on Earth as this  
Should put the Stars besides their course,  
And make divorce  
Between Conjunctions in their force;  
It seems, 'twas such a Destiny, as His  
Which made your Cantings and Predictions miss.    

3. Upon my Lords going to his Grave in peace, after all his hazardous adventures in the service of the KINGDOM.  

I.  
I Saw a three well spread, and mounted high,  
The towering Top-bows in the clouds did lye;  
And under-branches to such thickness spread,  
It might three Kingdoms well have sheltered;  
Under the blessing of whose safer shade  
Churches and States securely laid.   

II.  
I saw a storm( as black as night) approach,  
Through which from darkest clouds bright day did flash  
Like flaming Chasma's in that cloud of smoke  
Which from the monstrous tops of Aetna broken:  
The Isles began to thunder, and there fell  
Blood-Tempests on the Common-weal.   

III.  
I saw the Cedars of the forest shake,  
The tallest Pines, and sturdiest Oaks did quake  
Like tottering Reeds, which every breath of air  
Tosseth to various wavings here and there:  
Amongst the rest, some stoutly stood the shock  
When others either bowed or broken.   

IV.  
I saw the Tempest over; and that three,  
Which fenced Kingdoms from the injury  
Of Thunder-tempests, and unshaken stood  
Like some great Oak within a ruined wood,  
Or Bay three privileged from the Thunder-stone,  
In a still day did fall alone.   

There needs no Oedipus to unravel this,  
The Warrior went unto his Grave in peace.    

4. My Lords Elegy.  

SO Stars fall down from Heaven; the Sun goes out,  
Mountains shrink down into the Vales about  
In sudden Earthquakes; Brazen Pillars fall,  
And Gods must have at last their Funeral:   

But falling-Stars do never rise again,  
They're smothered in the smoke they vanish in.  
As the great light of Heaven goes out, the Sun  
Makes no more day, after that day is done.  
The Valleys swell not into Mountain-tops  
After the Hill into the Valley drops.  
The Brazen Standards of the World, that rot  
To nothing, at their ruins are forgot.  
But ESSEX from his Funeral Urn does flamme  
To brighter glory, and renews his Name.  
As Tapers in their going out do blaze,  
And vanish in perfumes, so did HIS days  
Go out in Honor, and his savour went  
From the Suns Orient to the Occident.  
His Death brings in his Life, and makes his Fall  
But the great Rise to his Memorial.   

'Twas not( great Lord) for History to begin  
To pen thy Life and Death, till all came in;  
And now that all is done, thou dost not die,  
But only hasten to thine History:  
Now men begin to writ, and talk, and tell,  
And weep what ESSEX did, while he was well.  
'Twas ESSEX owned the Standard for the State  
When Princes frowned him to a Trayters Fate.  
'Twas ESSEX carried on the first Forlorn,  
And gave his Life for those that are unborn:  
ESSEX was traitor General when few would  
High-Treason it for King and Countreys good.  
Nothing but ESSEX fills the mouth of famed,  
And Parats learn to prate great ESSEX's Name.   

His Acts( half-dead while he was living) be  
In every tongue a running History.  
Now Keynton is as fresh as Nazeby-field,  
And newberry and gloucester will not yield  
Their Names to envious Oblivion,  
But are as Victories but newly won.  
I must not give by Items what came in  
By greater Sums upon his conquering.  
Some say— He saved the Church, and some the State,  
And others, that he did but propagate  
And breath his soul( while living) into them  
Who will do, what he did, in stead of him.  
But all say this of ESSEX( Foe and Friend)  
ESSEX began the Work, and saw the end.   

O for a 〈◇〉 that HE  
Surviving in Nobility might be:  
Then High-born Blood would boil and froth again  
To be in action, angry at the reins  
Which check in Resolution, and would be  
The first in forwardest activity.  
Then council would begin, but quickly go  
To Actings, and not long dispute, but do.  
The Byases would down, and as the Sun  
Keeps on his Line, so virtue would go on.  
Then Honor, Life, and all would be forgot,  
And nothing but the Kingdoms safety sought.  
Then we should find a spirit( at a die)  
To take up or to lay down Chivalry.  
To be on Horse back for the Countreys good,  
Or else on Wool-packs as the country would,  
To do and suffer, and to bear away  
The work before them till their dying day.   

The Gown would conquer-on, and win at Home  
What Armies leave abroad to overcome.  
Then heresy would be whipped and stripped; and they,  
Who mutiny by Schism, would not be  
Without their recompense; and Blasphemies  
Would have Revenge from lesser Deities,  
Then Englands Peace might spin, Scotland return,  
And Ireland not to her last cyndars burn.  
And when the work's done here, some would go on  
And scale the prouder Walls of Babylon,  
So would our Hopes( half-dead in HIM) revive,  
And we should think ourselves again alive:  
O for a 〈◇〉 that HE  
Surviving in Nobility might be.   

But ESSEX is quiter lost, till he be found  
In some Inheritors, who can compound  
With Heaven to have his virtues as his state,  
And then a Phoenix may spring from THIS FATE.  
Till then his Funerals I shall keep, and say,  
They are not over until such a day.   

Yet if there be a spark of that great flamme  
Alive in any breast( although his NAME  
Be almost lost in him) It shall revive,  
And ESSEX shall be said to be alive.  
If there be COURAGE steeled with CONSTANCY,  
If there be council manned with PRUDENCY,  
If candour mixed with HEROICKNES,  
If COMITY embrace MAGNIFICENCE,  
If THOUGHTS are LOW where best DESERTS are HIGH  
If a well-tempered LIBERALITY  
Be Prodigally frugal; If there be  
IUSTICE well balanced by indifferency;  
If HEART be SINGLE with a SINGLE EYE,  
Acting forth vigour from INTEGRITY,  
If HANDS be acting from a public HEART,  
In Loyalty the HIGHEST SUBJECTS part.  
If these, and MORE, be scattered ONE by ONE,  
And SINGLE found upon some Paragon,  
SO MANY WORTHIES may make up the frame  
Which Nature hath in HIS DEATH broke in twain.  
Or if ALL THESE be found in ONE, 'tis HE  
That must the PHOENIX of THIS PHOENIX be.   

Now I could weep, and say no more; We do,  
Counting his Worth, but sum our losses too,  
And tell the world, One sullen blow did turn  
This Mass and Heap of virtue to an Urn.  
The Remedy, which oft assuageth grief,  
Augments our sorrows, and obstructs relief.  
'Twas Comfort that we could his virtues boast,  
Till we were forced to say, ALL THIS is lost.  
To say HE WAS all this— Is but to say,  
HE IS NOT, and all this is swept away.  
Thus does the Sun with pleasant rays begin  
To break a cloud, and presently shut in.   

Tell me no more what was by ESSEX done,  
Nor reckon up the Victories he won;  
Let me not see the Catalogue you call  
The Acts and Monuments of that General.  
Nor hear the boastings of those Sons of Pride  
Who mounted on his History would ride  
Throughout the World, and Trumpeting his famed,  
Blow louder but to get themselves a name.   

Call him no more the Churches Champion,  
Who gird himself for Reformation:  
Tell me not what he did at home, abroad,  
In Furs, in armour for his Countreys good.  
Cast up your gains, and then cast up your losses,  
And tell me how the reckoning meets or crosses.  
The Kingdom hath lost more by losing him,  
Then they have got by ALL HIS Conquering.   

Had ESSEX been( which is impossible)  
A private loss, yet 't had been countable.  
Jewels are Jewels in a private hand:  
But Jewels of the Crown once lost, the Land  
And Kingdom is the loser; So in his fall  
Both Church and State was Epileptical:  
Let Publike-losses then have publike-groans,  
England, make thou his Lamentations.    

5. Englands Lamentation.  


2 Sam 3.38.  THis day— A great man fell in Israel,  
This day— The Captain over thousands fell:  

Isa. 3.1,2, &c.  The mighty man did fall, the man of War,  
The honourable, and the counselor;  
The Judge, the Prudent and the Ancient fell,  
The Staff bowed down, bowed down, and broken, and fell.   

Who broken the Staff— The stay who took away  
Jerusalems whole staff, and Judahs stay?  

2 Sam. 1.19.  How came the beauty of Israel thus to fade?  
How is the mighty fallen? Ah what made  

Vers. 25.  The mighty fall, and yet the battle over?—  

Vers. 22.  That mighty man, whose Bow did still recover  
The fat, and blood of those that fell; The fat  
And blood of mighty men, and turned not?  
His Bow ne'er turned back, nor his Sword come  
Or from the slain, or mighty— empty home:  
How is the mighty fallen— Ah, what made  
The mighty fall, and yet the battle laid?   


Vers. 20.  Ah let it not in Gath be spoken-on,  
Nor published in the streets of Askelon,  
Least the glad Daughters of the Philistine  
( Uncircumcised Daughters) should begin  
To shout their triumphs, Laugh at Israels mean,  

Vers. 24.  And make a Song of this— Her Beauty's gone:  
But you who are the true and high-born breed,  
The fairer Branches sprung from Jacobs seed—  
Weep over Saul— Daughters of Israel—  
Daughters of Israel— weep over Saul.  
'Twas he, that clothed you in Scarlet-wool,  
And fed you with delights, till ye were full;—  
redeemed you, when you were for Captives sold,  
And put upon you Ornaments of Gold.  
Weep over Saul— Daughters of Israel,  
Daughters of Israel— weep over Saul.   


Vers. 25.  O thou, that stood'st in thine high-places fast  
untouched, unslain, how didst thou fall at last!  

Vers. 26.  We are distressed now, distressed for thee;  
How pleasant hast thou been to us, to me?  
Thy love to us was wonderful, Above  
Passing the love of women, past their love:  

Vers. 27.  How is the mighty fallen? Ah, what made  
The mighty fall, and yet the battle laid!   


2 Sam. 3.31,32,33.  Let Joab rend his clothes, Let Joab mourn  
For Abner,— and, Let all the people turn  
Their clothes to Sack cloth— David's self will after  
His Bier to Hebron— David mourn for Abner.  
The Princes lift their voices up, and weep,  
The Princes weep at Abners grave, and keep  

Vers. 36.  Their Lamentations over him, and we  
Are glad to fee't, and weep at what we see.    

6. My Lords Epitaph.  

MArble, never blab thy trust,  
Keep close the treasure of that Dust  
Which is committed unto thee  
To lock-up as a secrecy,  
Lest after Ages, as they may pass by  
Make a stand here, and act Idolatry:   

Tell not one Letter of his Name,  
Though this Age should forget the famed;  
If after Ages silent be,  
Then let the Marble speak for me:  
While in our hearts he does Embalmed lye,  
Stones are dull Tables of his Memory.   

Yet if the stones must weep and speak,  
Or else the Marble too will break;  
Say that thou art the MONUMENT  
Both of KING and PARLIAMENT,  
And that the first-great-Master of the Field  
Not conquered did himself thy Prisoner yield.   

And if you will be blabbing, score  
Two hundred Victories, and more:  
And say you have the Dust, that stood  
In all adventures, sound and good.  
Then— writ his Name at length, and so he'll be  
As thou to him, a MONUMENT to thee.   

Here lies ESSEX, and that's all  
I have to shrine his Dust withal.    

7. The humble Invitation of His Excellency Sir Tho: Fairfax to my Lords FUNERAL.  

TWas ESSEX won the field, now FAIRFAX keeps it,  
'Tis equal virtue for to keep, as get it  
Then FAIRFAX trail his Funerals, and be  
The Mourner-General at his obsequy.  
'Tis but the Copy of that Pomp, which we  
At thine own Funerals shall give to THEE,  
But that an ESSEX will be wanting then  
To do for THEE what THOU mayst do for HIM.    

8. My Lords Anagram.  
ESSEX, Anagr. ESSEX.  

YOu that have time to shuffle and pack Names,  
First to take-down, and then set up your frames;  
To roll and turn a Sisaphus his ston;  
To do, and undo, and when all is done,  
'Tis but a sowr-crackfac'd Anagram,  
Which does but Nickname, or un-name the Name.  
Rifle not here that sacred five  
Which never was disturbed alive.   

Let ESSEX be nothing but ESSEX, he  
Was always ESSEX, and MORE cannot be.  
As firm and fast as his compacted Name,  
Which will not be divided— So the frame  
Of his resolved spirit did abide,  
ESSEX he lived, and ESSEX too he died;  
ESSEX was ESSEX— still the same,  
I'll never alter ESSEX's Name.    

9. My Lords Motto.  
VIRTVTIS COMES INVIDIA, Englished Envy is virtues Companion.  


* Virtus invidiâ mayor. Virtutis Comes invidiâ.  HIgher then Envy— Great Lord— As thy Name  
Concenterates all Virtue, yet the game  
At which with molten-wings tired Envy flies,  
And by contending with thy Virtue dyes;  
Envy must have a flight at Honor, as  
Mounted on silver-feather'd wings 't does pass:  
But as rash Icarus attempts the Sun  
With waxed wings, and falls as fond down:  
Thus Envy melts before so great a Star  
As Virtue darts her beams pendicular.  
House-keeping Curs may think to bark the Moon  
Out of her course, and yet her course does run.  
That great Goliah-flame of Heaven— the Sun  
Is threatened by a Combination  
Of duskish mutineers, in close Array  
Battaliated to overturn the day:  
But as the giant of the day begins  
To shake himself, he scatters all their wings.  
Neptune may rage at Rocks, and Aeolus blow  
The great Alpeian frame to overthrow;  
The watery Goddess of the air may think  
To quench the flames of Aetna with her drink—  
But Rocks will stand, and Mountains bear their head,  
And Flames increase the more they're watered:  
So Honor built on Virtue stands the shock  
Like a well-builded house upon a Rock.   

'Twas bravely done( great Mountain of the State)  
To build thyself so high, Commensurate  
To virtue, and to Envy— Who but you  
Would have choose virtue to have Envy too?  
Some would be Mountains— but they fear the wind,  
They would fain be before, yet creep behind.  
They would have Honor even to Envy, yet  
The Envy, which true Virtue does beget  
They are afraid of, Not because they fear  
Envy so much, as to be Virtuous here.  
O the base Honor of that Envy, when  
Honor is only envied by men!  
'Tis thus, that honourable Envy springs  
When Virtue Honor, Honor Envy brings:   

Thus my great Master did bew-out his way  
( Like Hannibal) thorough the Rocky bay  
Of Opposition and Contempt, till HE  
By Virtue melted stubborn Obloquy.  
And as the Sun gets up, and drives the day  
Before him( through the thickest Night) away,  
So his high prowess ( strong as light) did chase  
All Fogs before the brightness of his face.  
His Virtue bread him Honor( though high-born)  
His virtuous Honor, honourable scorn:  
Such envy added to his Honor still,  
Thus did the Epha of his Honor fill.   

The Motto, and my Lord, how well  
Are they upon the parallel!  
Virtue and Envy will agree  
As undivided company:  
And if ever they do meet,  
They did on him each other greet.  
He was an Earl of Virtue, so  
He was an Earl of Envy too.  
On this great Instance you may well say on,  
ENVY IS VIRTUES fast COMPANION..    

10. Upon the Adjournings of my Lords FUNERAL.  

YOu great Commanders of the Rites  
And of the Pomp, and of the State  
Of such a Funeral as this,  
Why do our expectations wait?  
Let us but see the shadow of my Lord,  
Whither it do with our high thoughts accord?   

What means your Funeral delays?  
Is my Lord dead indeed, or no?  
Or do you thus Adjourn, because  
You are afraid to tell us so?  
Yet let us know the worst, the worst behind;  
We long to see, what we're afraid to find.   

Heralds make hast, ye need not strive  
And tamper with a Waxen mould;  
You cannot make my Lord alive,  
Nor yet Effigies him in Gold.  
Why are you fitting-on a Coronet  
Upon that head on which a Crown is set?   

Let Trumpets softest accents blow;  
Let Banners teach the air to groan:  
Let all your Train of Mourners go;  
And your Artillery trail-on:  
The greatest Pomp( when all is done) shall lie  
Within our hearts, and in a melting eye.    
FINIS.