¶ An Epitaph upon the death of the worshipful Master Benedict Spinola Merchant of Genoa, and free denizen of England, who died on Tuesday the .12. of julie. 1580.  

AMongst the States of Italy  
that stand and strive for fame,  
There is a City passing brave  
that Genoa hath to name.   

Inhabited with noble race,  
Whereas amongst the rest,  
There is a House of Spinol●●,  
as noble as the best.   

Of Ancients come from foreign parts,  
as fate did give them leave,  
And by their arms it doth appear,  
they come from th'house of Cleave.   

From out which stock a bud of birth,  
inferior not to any,  
Sprang in this Country's soil of ours,  
a comfort great to many.   

In that most gracious Princes reign  
sixth Edward was he sworn  
A Denizen: and ever since  
hath faith and duty borne.   

Unto the Princes of this Realm  
still priest to do them good,  
And with them ever since his oath,  
in grace and favour stood.   

At ready hand, at all assays,  
when Queen or Council would  
Command him aught. He nought refused  
to do what thing he could.   

What passeth above my reach to know  
I leave: he lived here  
A noble Merchant every way,  
no stranger was his peer.   

His friendly mind to all men like,  
his word and deed was one,  
And to the honest minded men,  
his purse was shut from none.   

Amongst the poor imparted he  
the talon God him lent,  
On poor, and setting poor on work,  
the greatest part he spent.   

With money, meat, and Physic too,  
the sick he comforts oft,  
The men decayed that secret wept,  
again he set aloft.   

The prisoners oft he visited  
with money meat to buy,  
And many did he set at large  
that did for little lie.   

What was his liberal alms abroad  
I need not for to show it,  
Nor what his bounty every way,  
the poor and rich do know it.   

His name inferred a godly life,  
for Benedict he hight,  
Oh Spinola thy blessed works  
are blessed in God's sight.   

And as his life was liked of,  
unblamde of foe or friend,  
So God did show his mercies great  
to him in latter end.   

Good memory to latter gasp,  
and knowledge of the Lord,  
A mind to prayer wholly bend,  
as one that life abhorred.   

With hands erected up aloft,  
and eyes unto the Skies,  
In contrite wise, when speech was gone,  
in godly sort he lies.   

Lo here his birth: from whence, whose life  
it is that I do write,  
Whom out (alas) untimely death  
hath smitten with despite.   

Wail may the sick, weep may the poor,  
and heavy many a heart,  
That from so sure a friend as he  
their chance is to departed.   

Clay hath his right, death hath his due,  
deserts remain to Fame,  
God hath his soul: the world his pelf,  
and brute, his lasting name.   

God grant thy good example may  
raise up 〈…〉 y ha●ts,  
To help the 〈◊〉 as thou hast don●  
in gracious 〈◊〉 a●d smarts.   

God is with th●●, ●od be with us,  
God send● us there to dwell  
With Christ and thee in Heaven above,  
my Spinola thus farewell.   
R. ●.   

Printed at London by Thomas East.  
 woodcut of a shroud-wrapped body in a graveyard