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A Commemoration on the life and death of the right Honourable, Sir Christopher Hatton

Knight, late Lord Chauncellor of England. Wherin triumphant Trueth reuiueth his memorie from the graue: exhorting Nobilitie, Gentrie, and duetifull Subiects, to continue their obedience to God and her Maiestie, and to preuent by pollicie the perillous practises of euery ciuil and forrain enemy. Published by Iohn Phillips

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

You noble Peeres, my natiue Countrimen,
I need not shew to you my bloud nor birth:
As dust I was, I turne to dust agen,
I go before, but you must to the earth.
Yet when, or how, to you it is vnknowne:
For be you sure the earth doth claime her owne.
It is not gold, nor treasures that are vaine,
can you preserue when that the time is come:
Your houses gay wherin you do remaine,
can you not shield from Gods decreed doome.
As I am dead, so likewise you shall die:
But learn by death with me to liue on hie.
Though gaping graue inclose my Corps in clay,
and silent I rest couered close in mould:
Yet from my shrine Trueth striues both night and day,
to you my mind (good Lords) for to vnfould.
Whereto if case you vouch to yeeld regard:
Your selues with right, I trust, wil me reward.
Which of you could with Hatton finde a clause,
or say that he vniust or faithlesse was?
Did he not liue according to the lawes?
and on the earth his daies in duetie passe?
Was not his care let on his God for aye?
And did not he his soueraigne Queen obay?
Was not his hart bent for his Countries weale?
did he not stil euen from his tender youth
With rich and poore vpright and iustly deale,
and cloath himselfe in robes of tried trueth?
If this be true, as no man can denie:
Fame saith he liues, although our Hatton die.

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Where he might help he would be helping still,
where he might hurt he neuer would do harme:
His chiefest care was to doe good for ill,
thus God with grace did gentle Hatton arme.
No trecherous thought could harbor in his brest:
The fruites of faith in him were aye exprest.
The worlde knowes wel Trueth tels a tale most true,
the heauens aboue of this do witnes beare:
Though Momus mates, and Zoilus do pursue
scandals with scorne against the iust to reare.
But such doe weaue themselues a web of woe:
For Trueth triumphs, who works their ouerthrow.
In lustie youth he lou'd the barbed steede,
and Hector-like would breake the manly launce:
For martiall acts surnamed Mars indeed
was Hatton sweete, that manhood did aduaunce.
At tilt the prize and praise he duely wan:
His might in armes they felt that with him ranne.
At turney he and barriers did excell,
some peeres in arms haue borne his battring blowes
In court and towne he was beloued well,
a scourge he was vnto his Soueraignes foes.
Faith was the shield that worthy Hatton bare:
Whose like scarce liues, his vertues were so rare.
Should Trueth then dread to spread his vertues out,
that for his deedes hath wonne deserued praise?
Her cheareful voice, with courage bold and stout,
throughout the world his lasting laud shall raise.
And moue thereby the minds of noble men
To high attempts, to win them honor then.
Where might the sick, the sore, the halt and blind,
reape more reliefe then happy Hatton gaue?
To suiters poore he euer was most kind,
he sought dispatch that they with Prince might haue

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Then Lordings learn his steddy steps to trace:
With God and Prince you thus shal purchase grace.
Thus for his loue, his faith and tried trueth,
he of the Guard, by our most gratious Queene
Was chieftaine made, who firmly held his oath,
from Hattons hart faiths fruites to flow were seene.
A chieftaine kind he to the Guard was found:
Whose want, with grief their tender harts doth wound
He sought all meanes to wish and work their weale,
to doe them good he took no small delight:
In their cause he with our good Queen did deale,
t'augment their wage he did all that he might.
From sixteen pence, to twenty pence a day:
Whil'st world doth last he did reduce their pay.
And by the day three moneths in the yeare,
two shillings he for them obtaind indeed:
Such feruent loue in him did still appeare,
that they him found a fort in time of need.
Their wrongs he sought by skil for to redresse:
His loue with teares Trueth shows they can expresse.
In wisdoms bower he did obtayn his seat,
whose lore to learn he did his time imploy:
And God from heauen with his graces most great,
in mercies milde sought to augment his ioy.
For vertues vse wherein he took delight:
Our gratious Queen did dub our Hatton knight.
Discreet he was, and wary in his wayes,
rashly to speak at no time he thought fit:
In faith and feare he spent his Pilgrims dayes,
for common weale he did imploy his wit.
Where Syno sought his treasons to inure:
His censures graue conuinced the impure.
And as from Trueth at no time he did erre,

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but truely sought the Trueth for to vphold:
He had a care his seruants to preferre,
the good found grace, the wicked he controld.
The poore opprest he wisely did defend:
And on the poore a portion he did spend.
Belou'd of all he was for vertues vse,
the grafts of grace in Hattons brest did grow:
By wisdoms lore he brideled all abuse,
and did himself a loyall Subiect show.
Thus he with God did grace and fauour find:
Whose sacred trueth he planted in his mind.
And with our Queen that princely Phenix rare,
whose like on earth hath sildome times bin seen,
He was esteemd and set by for his care,
as noble Peeres that aie haue trusty been.
Vizcechamberlain her Highnesse Hatton made:
Whose tried trueth could neuer faile ne fade.
The cursed curres of Catalin vnkind,
that did conspire against her Royall Grace:
And to subuert the State did beare in mind,
with might and maine he sought for to displace.
Those wily Wolues vntrusty to the Crown:
By Iustice he threw topsie turuie down.
Our princely Queen whome God from danger saue,
of Counsaile hirs, did Hatton sure elect:
Who Solon-like did vse his censures graue,
the good to shield, the wicked to correct.
And as he was adornd with graces great:
So sate he safe in honors blisfull seate.
Lord Chanceler then her Grace did him ordaine,
Which charge with care he wisely did discharge,
For succour sweet none came to him in vaine,
good conscience had her scope to goe at large.
The right of might need not to stand in awe:
Ne would he trueth should be defast by lawe.

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Affection could in Hatton beare no sway,
No giftes nor gold might once corrupt his minde:
Fraude to subuert, he studied night and day,
To equitie his heart was aye enclinde.
Where conscience was corrupt and found vncleane,
to vanquish he, by wisedome sought the meane.
Oppressed men from daunger he did shielde,
Their wofull wronges he wisely did redresse?
In deepe dispaire sweete comfort hee did yeelde,
To ease their griefe that languisht in distresse.
And where as Trueth durst scarcely shewe her face,
Fraude was subdude, and foyled with disgrace.
The Lawes he sought, with conscience for to vse,
Triumphant Trueth, he seated in her throne:
To heare the poore he neuer did refuse,
Right glad he was to helpe them to their owne.
Wrongs went to wracke, Craft could no harbour finde,
To maintain trueth our Hatton was enclinde.
Thus Lordings all his life you may beholde,
That liuing heare hath wonne deserued fame:
And though his Corps lye couered close in molde,
In Court and towne shall liue his spotlesse name.
Death dies in him, his vertues death hath slaine,
And hee by death eternall life dooth gaine.
Yet from his graue, Trueth dooth you all exhort,
To lincke your hearts and mindes in loyall loue:
Let faith in you builde such a famous fort,
That nothing may from trueth your mindes remooue.
Though Pope and Spaine, against your peace doe iarre,
Withstand their rage, prepare your your selues to warre.
Clap Corslets on, your standerds take in hande,
Your barbed steedes best ride with courage stoute:
Brandish your swordes, fight for your natiue lande,
By Seas and shores beset your foes about.
Nowe is the time where honour may be founde.

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Thinke on the acts, your Auncestours haue doone.
Haste to your shippes, hoyse sailes in name of God,
Man you your coast, march after warlike Drumme:
Your Ensignes braue, each where display abroade,
Downe with your foes, that for your spoyles doe come.
Take Lyons hearts, feare not your hatefull foes;
But let them feele, your manly battering blowes.
They come to sacke, your Citties, Fortes, and Towres,
Your Wiues and maides they purpose to deflowre:
Stande to it then, and cracke those crakers crownes,
That thinke to win your wealth, within an howre.
Be bolde in God, and neuer turne your backes,
But beard those braues, that mind to worke your wracks.
You are, and haue beene feared ouer all,
England's an Ile, of stoute and hardie men:
Be stronge in faith, your foes downe right shall fall,
For one of you, in armes shall vanquish ten.
You fight for God, and God your guide shall be,
And from the handes of enemies set you free.
Richard the first, of England famous King,
Good Lordings vouch, to call vnto your minde:
Whose Martiall acts, throughout the World dooth ring.
The Heathen rout, of Pagans most vnkinde
His force haue felt; whose manly conquering hand,
No Pagan proud was able to withstand.
And then shall Spayne, a sincke of deadly sinne,
Or raging Rome, a cage of Birdes vncleane:
Be bane of you and yours, as they beginne?
Or from your heads, the crest of glorie gleane.
As yerst of yore, plucke vp those rotten weedes;
Let heauen and earth, record those conquering deedes.
Edward the third, your King of rich renowne,
Against the French did vse his conquering sworde:
Mauger their beardes, he did possesse their Crowne,

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The French were faine, to serue him as their Lord.
Take courage then, maintaine your Countries right,
Gainst Rabsica, in Gods name enter fight.
Henry the fift, I wish you not forget,
At Agent Court, thinke what a fielde he sought:
When all the powre of Fraunce him round beset,
Ten thousand men, them to subiection brought.
Though night before, they Bonfires great did make,
And made their boastes, what prisoners they would take.
But they that bragge of conquest and renowne,
Before the fielde be fought, or trust their strength:
We see the Lord in moment can cast downe,
And giue the weak'st the victorie at length.
Though Englands King, and his, they bought and solde,
The French were slaine, though they to brag were bold.
Then though to Spaine, the Pope haue giuen your land,
And your good Queene deposed from her Crowne:
A conquest win, your weapons take in hand,
The pelting pope, and Spaniards proude beate downe.
As earst to fore, you Conquerers haue beene
Through world, now let, your cōquering deedes be seene.
What Nation yet, that menac'st you with warre,
But you haue met, and giuen the vtter foile:
Snaffle those Coultes, that at your peace doe iarre,
And beard those braues that labour for your spoile.
Fight for your selues, your wiues and Children now,
To straungers Yoakes, your neckes doe neuer bow.
Thus Trueth her charge, to rich and poore hath tolde,
From this good Lord, whose life to you is knowne:
And Trueth to you such tydings will vnfolde,
As may enforce both yonge and olde to moane.
Marke Hattons ende, whom death from vs hath reft,
Yet he good name to conquer death hath left.
Thus as in health, in trueth he God did praise,

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In sickenes his, he did extoll his name,
His hope was heauen, by faith on Christ he staies,
And battaile dooth gainst sinne and hell proclaime.
Rebelling flesh he manly did subdue,
And in sweete Christ his health he did renue.
Most like a Lambe amidst his greeuous paine,
He beares the Crosse that God vpon him laide:
With patience hee his anguishes sustaines,
In extreamst griefe most faithfully he praide.
Christ was the rocke, whereon he sought to builde,
All other meanes this Christian Lord exilde.
Thus in Gods trueth his heart and minde was staide,
He studied still to exercise his Lawe:
By-pathes to treade he euer was affraide,
Of iudgement he did alwaies stande in awe.
His Lord and God, right glad hee was to serue,
He from his heasts, of purpose would not swerue.
Thus spent this Lord his time in his distresse,
On Gods sweete will he alwaies did depende:
To handfast Christ by faith he foorth did prease,
And he through grace, did sweete releife him sende.
Though bodie his, were feeble, faint, and weake;
His soule was strong, Christ kept the same from wreake.
When phisicke sought, his health for to recure,
He held Gods word the phisicke for the Spirite:
From thence he dranke such precious water pure,
As in the heauens augmented his delight.
Yet phisicke shew'd on him her wonted skill,
But all in vaine, for God must haue his will.
Our gratious Queene, of curtesie the flowre,
Faire Englands Gem: of lasting blisse and ioye:
Whom God long shielde with arme of might and powre,
From all her foes that would worke her annoye.
From Rich mount came, this Lord for to releeue;
Whose Princely sight, great comfort did him giue.

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All meanes she sought, to worke her Hattons ease,
Most louing wordes she gaue the sicke and weake:
Her Highnes voice his griefes did much appease,
His heat reuiu'de to heare her Highnesse speake.
Phisitions then, had charge to shewe their skill
Vpon this Lord, as they would win good will.
And they with care, (as subiects to her Grace)
Obedient were, to waite vpon their cure:
On whom they wrought, God knowes a certaine space,
Deuising howe, their health he might procure.
Fiue daies our Queene remain'd with the destrest,
Who thought himselfe through her for to be blest.
She tooke her leaue and bad this Lord farewell,
And he to heauen with handes outstretched hie:
Calles vnto him, that in the heauens dooth dwell,
With grace from heauen her Highnes to supplie.
Long liue saide he, most gratious Queene in peace,
God make thee stronge, the rage of foes to cease.
Thus praide our Queene to God to sende him health,
And he to heauen for her safegard dooth call:
That long she might liue in the common wealth,
To shield the good and bring the bad to thrall.
He tooke his leaue of his most gratious Queene,
And praised God she had his comfort beene.
Phisitions then did on this Lord attend,
And graue diuines were euer at his hand:
But that which God dooth minde to bring to end,
Its vaine for man to gain say or withstand.
His hope was heauen, his trust was in Gods sonne;
Small was the ease, that he by phisicke wonne.
Time passeth on, and calles this Lord away,
The Sexten waights to ring his dolefull Knell:
But he prepares himselfe to watch and pray,
He leaues the world, and hopes with Christ to dwell.
And as by Christ in trueth this Lord was taught,

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With th' oyle of faith his Lampe was fully fraught.
Securely he, to sleepe thought it not meete,
The sleepe of sinne, he did abandon quite:
He look't for Christ, his Lord and Sauiour sweete,
His hope and trust in his deere death was pight.
His wedding Roabes with ioy he did prouide,
In hope to feast with Christ and his sweete Bride.
What were the words he to the world did leaue?
He by his will all things in order set:
He sought no man of duetie to deceiue;
His hope was Christ, from him he comfort fet.
And as he had beene euerie poore mans friend,
So he in minde the poore had to his end.
The Schooles of skill, where science dooth abound,
He thought vppon: and dayly had in minde
Poore Captiues that in clogs of care are bound,
To ease their griefe he some releife assignde.
His seruants all, whose loue to him was tender,
For seruice doone, he duely did remember.
But waxing faint, and drawing to his ende,
He leaues his Queene vnto the Lord of might:
Desiring him, from griefe her to defende;
And all her foes to foile and put to flight,
From treasons vilde, and Traytors, Lord her saue,
And let thy Trueth, through world her passage haue.
Farewell my Peeres, the Lord God be your guide,
Her Counsell graunt, with thy grace to direct:
That they a salue may day by day prouide,
To shielde the good, and cut off the infect.
Her Highnes weale, God make them still to minde,
And to roote vp rebellious plants vnkinde.
You manly Knights and Gentlemen adue,
Be stronge in Trueth, and constant to your Queene:
Farewell to you good Subiects iust and true,

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Nowe from your hearts let loyalke be seene
Vpholde the state, be Pillers found of trust:
False not your fayth, to God and Prince be iust.
Be not seduc'st, by any popish meane;
Abhorre and hate their doctrine most vnpure:
Those raskall Priests, as Traitors holde vncleane,
That would you from obeysance due allure.
Cleaue you to Christ, let Pope and blind guides goe,
They speake of peace, but minde your ouerthrowe.
Thus time in Trueth runne ouer fast away,
And sickenes sharpe gaue more and more increase:
And death dooth waite, to close his corpes in clay,
But he for grace, to call dooth neuer cease.
Sweete Christ I sue, for mercie vnto thee;
Bowe downe thine eare, from hell my soule set free.
His sonne adopt, Sir William Hatton Knight,
He dooth exhort obediently to liue:
In God and Trueth he wils him to delight,
And to his Prince her honour due to giue.
Thus shalt thou win deserued praise and fame,
And spotlesse keepe for euer Hattons name.
And thankes to you my Seruants for your paine,
Hencefoorth for mee you may take ease and rest:
I see with you I shall not long remaine,
For death to sacke my life is present prest.
But pray my faith in Christ may neuer faile,
Life is no losse, death workes for mine auaile.
And now sweete death most welcome vnto mee,
Thy stroakes ne can, ne shall me once dismay:
No griefe but ioy, I shall obtaine by thee,
Although thou come to take my life away.
Yet Christ to me a Crowne of life will giue,
Death dies in his, and his with him shall liue.
I call to thee, O Christ my Sauiour come,

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My silly soule into thy bosome take:
And in the great and dreadfull day of doome,
A member of thy kingdome Lord me make.
I come to thee, thy Seruaunt Lord receiue,
My corps to clay, my soule to thee I leaue.
O happie Lord that made so good an end,
Thy Queene thy want, with noble Peeres dooth waile:
Thy sonne adopt, laments his deerest friend,
Drie dumpes of dole, constraines his ioy to faile.
Poore Suters weepe, thy seruants pensiue are;
The needie poore with teares, their woes declare.
Thus Trueth the trueth hath set before your eyes,
His life and death most truely is set downe:
And let the trueth both rich and poore suffice,
Who spreades his praise, in euery Port and Towne.
A godly life he ledde vpon the earth,
And in Gods feare did render vp his breath.
Then Lordings yeelde in weedes of wailefull woe,
To bring his corps vnto the gaping graue:
Hee's gone before, the way he dooth you showe,
And you your selues of life no charter haue.
Then thinke on death, which way so ere you wend,
He followes you, your pilgrimage to ende.
Thus though this Lord vnto the world be dead,
His faith in Christ the ioyes of heauen hath wonne:
Sinne, Hell, and Death, he vnder feete dooth treade,
And liues in blisse, with Christ; Gods onely sonne.
Then Lordings chaunge your griefes to ioye againe,
For Hatton liues and death in him is slaine.
FINIS.