The life and death of Sir Phillip Sidney, late lord gouernour of Flushing his funerals solemnized in Paules Churche where he lyeth interred; with the whole order of the mournfull shewe, as they marched thorowe the citie of London, on Thursday the 16 of February. 1587.

The Life , Death , and Funerals , of Sir Philip Sidney knight . YOu noble Brutes bedeckt with rich renowne , That in this world haue wordly wealth at will : Muse not at me , though death haue cut me downe , For from my graue , I speake vnto you still . UUhilst life I had , I neuer ment you ill , Then thinke on me that close am coucht in clay , And know I liue , though death wrought my decay . I neede not I , record my bloud , ne birth , For why ? to you my parentage is knowne : My mould was clay , my substaunce was but earth , And now the earth enioyes agayn her owne , My race is runne , my daies are ouerthrowne . Yet Lordings l●st , your patience here I craue , Heare Sydneis plea , discussed from his graue . The feare of God , I fixt before my face , His precepts pure , to learne I did delight . The fruits of faith in me possessed place , My glory was to do the thing was right , In wisedomes bowre I my pauilion pight . And lying heere , though death my foyle did frame , To conquer death I spotlesse kept my name . Triumphant truth had place within my brest , Her happy heasts , I harboured in my heart , Her pathes to tread , my feete were euer prest , And in the truth I plaid my pilgrims part , And truth in time , according my desert , From time to time rewarded me worth praise , But time in truth did finishe vp my daies . Where I might helpe , to harme I neuer ment where I might hurt , to helpe I had a care . Each ill with good , to guard I was content , Of rashe reuenge , for wrongs I did beware . To maintaine peace my minde I did prepare , Where discord dwelt , her tents I sought to shunne . The world can tell , if this I haue not done . First God I sought in spirite and truth to serue , On him alone my hope and trust was set . From his sweete worde I neuer sought to swarue , But thence by faith , foode for my soule I fette . what Christ had done I neuer would forget , My hope and trust was in his death and bloud . For none but he I knew could do me good . Buy paths to pace I neuer gaue consent , The Syrene songs could no time me disceaue . To rest on Christ my fayth was euer bent , And vnto him I constantly did cleaue . Of his sweete word , none could my soule bereaue , The light I lou'd , and Christ the shining sunne So cleerd myne eies , that darknes I did shunne . The shepherd sweete that brake the bread of life , I could discerne by truthes true Trumpets sound . The seruaunt straunge that bred debate and strife , My consience came , I knew , by craft to wound . But wolues are oft in silie lambes skinnes found , And I their wiles could through my Christ discrie . That from the fould I causde the wolue to flie . Thus as to God obedient I was seene , whose sacred truth was settled in my breast . A spotlesse heart I rendred to my Queene , whose honour I for to vphold was prest . The fruites of fayth in mee were aie exprest , Her ioy was mine , her griefe my deadly woe , what Sidney saies , the world will speake I know . An earnest loue I to my countrie had , The Commons weale I planted in my minde . The noble peeres were of my company glad , No breathe of troath in me could any finde . To vertues heasts my heart was aie inclinde , But in the world my dated daies are done . My time is spent , mine hower-glasse is run . Yet whilst I liu'd ( aie me ) my hart was woe , To see some raunge as wretchles minded mates , Seeking by slights to worke the ouerthrow , Of sincere truth , stil kindling vp debates , Like franticke friendes , foreseeing not their fates : That hedlong run , without regard at all , By breach of truth to shame to make them thrall . I saw how some of Manna made too slight , Preferring chaffe before the finest wheat , Striuing amaine for to ecclips the light , And in the mist to feed on grosser meat , Against the Lord their mallice waxed great . But he his Church , and glory will maintaine , Mauger the rage of cruell cursed Cain . In cestuous Rome , that cage of birdes vncleane , Her shriking Owles hath into England sent The subiectes harts , from their good Queene to gleane , Seducing soules , to vse that they inuent , The beast of Rome , to gape for bloud is bent , whose marchant men incenst with ceasles yre , Gainst God and Prince made some vnkind conspire . All this I saw , which made me sob and waile , To see the crue of Dathan to increase , No griefe to this , that faith in men should faile , who striue to chaunge by bloud our daies of peace , Be thankfull then and stand with sin at strife , So shall your God redubble thrise your ioy , and gratiously defend you from annoy . He for her sake hath garnisht you with peace , Your virgin Queene is carefull for your nead , Her studies set your welfare to increase , Then like good subiectes loyally do deale , and as her loue to you shee doth reueile . with loue requight her louing heart againe , And pray with you her grace may long remayne . My Countrie-men ingraft my wordes in minde , For wonders great for ye the Lord hath wrought , Be thankfull then his fauour you do finde . For as by him Daniell from den was brought , So he for you that of no comfort thought , Gaue vnto you to free ye from distresse , Your royall Queene to multiplie your blesse . Twentie nine yeares you haue her grace possest , Your soueraigne Queene , a mother milde to you . A carefull nursse that helpes all such opprest , As vnto her for princely comfort low , To God and Prince remember then your vow , Liue subiect like and then take this from mee , Redoubled thrice her happie daies shal be . And you that carpe with Catiline for spoyle , And would conuert your quiet peace to war , Haue some remorce vnto your natiue soyle , Let not the Pope procure you thus to iarre . Haue care to Christ and know you christians are , It s he , and none but hee that must you saue , Marke well my wordes , though that I sleepe in graue , In marshall feates I settled my delight , The stately steede I did bestride with ioy . At tilt and turney oft I tride my might , In these exployts I neuer felt annoy . My worthie friends in armes did oft imploy , Themselues with me to breake the shiuering speare , But now my want they waile with many a teare . My spoused wife my Lady and my loue , whilst life I had did know my tender hart . But God that rules the rowling skies aboue , Did thincke it meete we should againe depart . His will is done , death is my dew desart , She wants her make , I fro my deare am gon . She liues behind her louer true to morne . In Flaunders I against the spanish rout , that spit their spite against my God and Prince , that seeke by force like tyraunts bold and stout , those townes and forts that feare God , to conuince , on barbed stead as one for their defence , incountred oft , amidst the troupe of those , repaying them with many bloudy blowes . The Canons cracke , my courage could not quaile , like Mars his knight I rusht amidst the throng , and to the flight vnto my great auaile , I draue them oft and laid the proudst along , my steed was slaine the musketeers among , when I my selfe receaued my fatall wound , yet horst againe from them conuaied round . My greife was great yet was my glory more , that I escapt the field from out the hands , the English campe with teares did me deplore , but life we see in fortunes balance stands , death forceth not possessions goods nor lands , the rich and poore to him are all alike , when God commands , he spareth not to strike . The chiefest hope I had was in sweet Christ , to him I fled , as to my dearest friend , and as in truth I laboured to persist , so in the truth I made my faithfull end , My leaue I tooke of euery louing friend , I told them plaine my dying day drew neare , and that I had no long abiding here . My worldly goods I wisely did dispose , and to the world that was the worldes I left , The noble Earle of Lester . Mine vnkles hart was wrapt with heapes of woes , to see me thus a flowring youth bereaft , Care clad my friends , their harts a sunder cleft , my seruants minds were ouer whelmd with greife , but none but Christ was found my comfort cheife . My brother deare to God I did commend , Desiring him the Lord of hostes to feare , and as I liue , so to his latter end , I gaue him charge the tongue of truth to beare , to Sy●●● mates I wishe him giue no eare , But as I had been loyall to my Queene . So had I hope his faith should flourish greene . My louing wife my Ladie and my deare , with all my hart I had for aye adue , Earle of war wicke and his Countesse . and thus I said , O Warwike noble peere , thy Nephew now thy face shall neuer vew , God blesse my Lord and Countesse his most true I leaue you heare , from you I go my way , I die to world yet hope to liue for aye . And now adue to Pembrakes noble Earle , to Countesse thine my sister kind farewell , I leaue you all Christ his precious pearle , with whom my faith perswadeth me to dwell , By faith in him , I vanquish death and hell , these die in me though death do cut me downe , For Christ I know with life my head will crowne . My Deuorax , my deare , my ioy , my friend , of Essex Earle ten thousand times adue , Earle of Essex . to God with hart I humblie thee commend , hoping in heauen thee face to face to view . Mourne not for me , though death my life subdue , I liue to die , and die to liue in deed , my life was lent , and death hath cut lifes threed . But yet I know my peeres will thinke on me , my guileles ghost shall neuer them forget , their good wils shall for aye remembred be , that to the graue my corps with honor fet , as in my life they loue on Sidney set , so from my graue I giue them thankes againe , that to the earth to bring me take the paine . First to the poore I clad in weedes of woe , 32. mourners , poore men representing the nnmber of his yeares . whose blubred eies did shew their inward griefe , the yeomens lookes their heauy cheare did show , and of their care I was their causer chiefe , the gentles all languisht without reliefe , they left their silkes to thinke vpon my wracke , and wailfull wise were cloathed all in blacke . The drum and fife rang forth my wailfull knell , a wofull martch the knights and Captaines past , the ensignes wrapt fore told all was not well , to see my daies by birefull death defast , my standarde braue far out of order plast , traild on the ground , in greeuous dolefull wise , Made rich and poore , with plaines to pearce the skies . My barbed steeves appointed for the field , Whereon I erst encountred with my foe , Contrary kinde inforced were to yeeld , And for my want a course of care did shoe , My warlike launce , of me beloued so , in peeces burst , and all to shiuers torne , Gaue all estates occasion meete to mourne . Before my corpes , sixe Harholdes passed on , The first my spurs with pensiue tackes did beare . The second he my want for to bemourne , Supported sure the gaunlits I did weare , The third my sworde and shielde vpright did reare , The fourth in hand my crest and colours had , The fift and sixe , with vissardes wan and sad , My coate of armes did beare in equall wise , Next came my corpes , by worthy Chieftaines borne , whose ioyes were sact , the teares fell from their eies , their mazed mindes with care were ell forlorne , the standers by for Sidneis want did mourne , their tender hearts , did greeue that I was gon , Throughout the streets , no signe of mirth was showne . Earle of Leaster , Huntington and Essex . Next to my corpes to weepe my sodaine fall , My brother deare in weedes of woe was dight , On horsebacke then my piers to sorrow thrall , with watered eies bewaild a marshall Knight , L. Willowbie And after them in order rode aright , My louing Lordes with care and griefe opprest , L. North. And euery where to mourne my foes were prest . Then mounted well next them in open show , Of flaunders did , the courteous states succede , The estates of Flaunders their griefe was great , their stomacks fraught with woe , th●● did my want , of woe a well spring breed . But as of Prince and piers I was belou'd indeede . So London left me not forgotten quight But gaue to me the thing that was my right . For next the states in gownes of violet faire Lord Maior did with Senators most graue L. Maior of Lon 24. Ald. with M.W. Fleetwood On horsebacke make to mourne me their repaire , But God hath that that he vnto me gaue , though I bee dead , my Christ my soule will saue , He is and was the piller of my trust , I know at last that rise againe I must . Next these my friends in order passed on , The gentle crew of Grocers comly clad . These , these my friendes , their louing friend did mone , The worshipful company of the Grocers richly attired with their Liuery hoodes on their shoulders . they for their friend to mourne occasion had , Next these the drumbs and fifes with sounds right sad , My passing bell and knell with care did ring , Thus to the graue with dole they did me bring After whose sound a carefull Chieftaine past , Who brought with him a band of marshall wights All which with woe did to my Buriall hast , As men amazed bereft of their delights . Not wotting how in war to shew their mights , Their muskets borne so out of order cleane , As though they knew not what the war did meane . Then after them the armed pikemen hie , Trayling the pikes along vpon the ground , The sight whereof made many a weeping eie , the souldiours ioyes care crost with griefe to wound , Thus mourne theie 〈…〉 moment 〈…〉 Euen thus and 〈…〉 Mi●●●ies I was brought , To Saint Paules Church where I my rest 〈…〉 Next after these , the Holde●●s martched on , In weedes of woe to testifie their griefe , their heauie cheare was seene , my death they mone But all in vaine , teares gaue me no reliefe . God was my guide , Christ was my helper chiefe , to whome for aide and comfort sweete I fled . with whome I thee , though I to world be dead , Then as before , the Pikemen came againe , Yeelding their looks of anguish griefe and smart , their Ensignes val●e , bad them all mirth refrayne , And on they past as men cleane out of heart . then came the shot , who plaid their pensiue part , No peace was ha●d , to render any clap , Thus sorrowed they with teares my great mishap . But when in clay , my corpes was cloasly shrinde , A vale of shot rang out my fatall knell . then euery man cast sorrow from his minde , the Pikes were vauncst , the Holbertes borne right well , And marshially then bad they me fare well . the drumbs and fifes then sounded were aloft , And on they marcht in order as they oft . Thus from my graue I bid you all adew . Your Sidneis w●●●es remember rich and poore , Though dead , my life doth daily call to you . Thinke yee how death knockes daily at lifes dore , Prouide your lampes of oyle prepare you s●o●e , My tale is tould , and I my race haue runne , My bodie earth , my soule the heauens hath wonne . Virtutis Laus actio .