The iust dovvn[fall of] ambition, adultery, and murder where-vnto are added 3. notorious sinners. Weston. M. Turner and Fran[klin] With his arraignement, confession and e[xecution] VVho all suffered death for the [mur]der if Sir Tho: Ouerbury, poysone[d in] the Tower: of whom to these discourses [is] ioyned an elegy, vpon the death of Sir Thomas Ouerbury.
I. T., fl. 1616.
Mistrís Turners Teares, for the Murder of Sir Thomas Ouerbury, who was poysoned in the Tower of London.
IF euer teares fell from a Wretches eies,
I am that Creature: waues on waues doe rise
So fast, and swell so high, they drowne my soule
In her owne crimes, as numberlesse as foule.
Oh had my cradle bin my sodaine Graue,
In peace my Soule had slept, which is a slaue
Now both to sinne and shame: I had not then
Been of God hated, and so scorn'd of Men.
Vnhappy was the Wombe that lent me breath,
Would it had bin the Charnell-house of Death,
Had I bin stisled there, thē had my flight
To heauen bin like a Doues, with winges more white.
O would to God the Day when I was borne,
Had from the Calender of time beene torne,
Where now it stands accursed, and does beare
The marke of a most fatall Character.
Page [unnumbered]Many a Widdow reading there my name,
Will curse it, & the leafe that holds the same:
Children as yet vnborne, comming to spell,
Will take it for a Furies name in Hell;
And casting by the Booke no more will read,
But onely learne to heape vppon my head
VVishes of mischeefe though in Graue I lye,
For to confound mee euerlastingly.
But leauing this, let my sad Story tell▪
Both from what height I fall, & how I fell:
That though time present does not mone my state
Yet times to come may pitty my hard fate.
My birth was faire, my bringing vp was good,
My dayes were golden in my widdow-hood,
And might haue been so still, but climbers hye
Beyond their reach must downe, and so doe I.
Plenty and I at board together sate,
I fed with Diues, dranke in richest plate:
VVore ritch attires, tasted all worldly pleasure,
But nere had care to hoord vp heau'nly treasure.
VVith Eue I might haue liu'd in Paradise,
But that a Serpent did my Soule intice
To touch forbidden fruit, which relish'd well
In chewing, but being downe it smelt of Hell.
Twas not one onely Apple to deuoure,
For which I long'd; my hunger gap'd at more,
At a whole tree I look'd: it was a Tree,
Me thought the goodliest mortall eyes could see,
This Tree I climb'd, and as I pluckt it grew
Still fresh and fresh, the boughs were euer new;
Page [unnumbered]The branches euer greene, bushy and faire,
It seem'd the Darling both of sunne and ayre.
But when my Soule lookt vp with open eyes,
I saw the top-bough brauing euen the skies,
VVhen the root stuck in Hell, where looking in
I knew it then to be the tree of sinne.
And though my Conscience told me I should fall,
If that I leand to: nothing could appall
My setled resolution, I would on,
Though still before me stood damnation.
From this I pluckt the guilded fruit of pride,
Like Queen-apples they shew'd, for euery side
VVas ruddy and alluring, but (what trust
Is in vaine earth?) being toucht they turne to dust.
Frō this I suckt Enchantmēts which drunk well,
And luscious sweet, yet prou'd the milke of hell:
Hence did I gather poysonous drugges to kill
Such as withstood my friends, or crost my wil.
Lust often lay within my widdowed sheetes,
And taught me how to tast forbidden sweetes,
And that toward hell I might go one step furder
The last and worst I went into was murder.
O crying sinne! which smothered nere so deep,
In caues, which silent night her selfe does keep,
Bound vp in darknes, like the steeme of Hell
which none can peirce; yet the black deed to tell
Euen graues of dead men (rotten long agoe,)
VVill open wide: Vengeance walks often slow
To our weak sight, but when to Strike it stands,
On Heau'ns high Tower, it hath a 1000. hands.
Page [unnumbered]Th' Almighties Arrowes fly both sure & strong,
And where they hit great Oakes fall all along.
No hidden mark but stands within his eie,
And that he cleaues, when forth his wrath does flie.
Witnesse my selfe and others, who defying
The busiest searching Sun-beam from descrying
Where Villany lay lurking, wrapd in clouds,
so safe we thought as dead men in their shrouds
When to Mans Sense twas as impossible
Mountaines to moue, as find a tongue durst tel
Our buried plots; See! they are rent and torne
By Gods least finger; and we left in Scorne.
Our maskes pluckd off, our faces now appeare writ
Such as they are indeed, not as they were,
Plain on our browes are our close mischiefes
Who most did hide, now most discouer it.
The Wolues are caught in snares; the shepherd now
Knows that a Lamb was slain, by whom & how,
The blood of whom by cruell friend so spilt,
Flowes like a Sea, yet washes off no guilt.
If any aske mee, why I was so led,
And why so neere to hell I ventured,
I was bewitch'd, for what I did behold,
Was a most bitter Pil, but wrap'd in gold.
That liquorish baite intic'd me take it downe,
As wholesom Physick, but (with shāe) tis known
No poison can so soone destroy the Soule,
The out-side glorious, but the inside foule.
O Gold! thou glittering diuel that confoundest
The Richest, Fairest, Strongest, wisest, Soundest,
Page [unnumbered]Would God, as He to Indians is vnknown,
That so their Drossy God were theirs Alone.
Soules would not tumble then so fast to Hell,
Nor of my Fall should I this Story tell,
Terror to Soule and Body, had not Heauen,
To sinnes more high and horrid, pardon giuen.
Pardon of thee (sweet Iesus) then I craue,
What thou hast Bought and Payd for deerely Saue.
Men, let me beg forgiuenes from you too
Because I did more then my Sex should doe.
And you of Modest dames that beare the note,
And my blacke Name quite from your tables blot,
As I am lost, so let my fault I craue,
And write Obliuion on my wretched Graue.
You Fathers whome of Children I bereaue,
You Children whom of Parents I deceaue,
You Wiues whom Husbandles my Guilt does make,
Forgiue me All: of All this Leaue I take.
Heauen frownes to looke vpon me and my Sin,
Earth trembles that by her I fed haue bin.
My very breath poysons the Aire about me,
Hell onely is within me and without me.
Yet in despite of Hell, from Heauen comes down
Mercy, I see holding a glorious Crown
O• immortality ouer my faint head,
Iesus in that and thee I'me Comforted.
Strengthen my weake heart, Death is fearefull grim,
One finger of thy Hand can vanquish him:
Giue to my fleeting Soule a prosperous gaile;
That I to Blest Ierusalem may Saile.
FINIS.
