The end and Confession of John Felton
who suffred in Paules Churcheyeard in London,
the .viii. of August, for high Treason. 1570.
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EChe man desiers to have reporte,
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of newes both strange and rare:
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And covits for to know those thinges,
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whereby they may be ware.
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For to avoyde those doynges greate,
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that might on them befall:
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For by example are they taught
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to do, and what they shall
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Receive for their malicious mindes,
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and wicked Treasons greate:
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As now of late it hath been seen
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through Justice judgements seate.
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That holdes the sworde to do the right,
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and strike where blowes should fall:
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And punish for their wicked lives,
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eche one whom she doth call.
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The poore, the ritche, the learnd, the wise
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the begger and the snudge:
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The Kynge somtime too hath it felt,
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aswell as hath the drudge.
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Wherefore be lawes decreed and made
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but for to punish those,
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That will not by theyr Prince be rewld
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but seemes to be theyr foes.
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As now is seene by Felton lo,
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that lately here did die,
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In Paules Churchyarde he left his life,
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on Galows taule and hie.
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Who from the prison where he lay,
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was drawne on Hardell there:
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For good example of all such,
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that they might take the feare.
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For to beware of suche like facte,
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as well in worde as deede:
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Least they for theyr like hier at last
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no better like to speede.
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Now marke his ende and what I shall
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reporte here of his death:
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For why these eares of mine did here,
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and iyes while that his breath
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Remained in his wicked corps,
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which stubbornly did die:
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As one me thought somthing bestraught
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through Treasons crueltie.
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His Gowne of Grograin he put of,
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which on his backe he had:
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And eke his Doublet which was made
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of Sattin somwhat sad.
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Into his Shirte he then was stript,
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and up the Ladder he
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Did mount, for to receave that death,
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that eche man there might se.
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These wordes he spake, and said alowde
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my Maisters all and some:
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One thinge I have to say to you,
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now that I here am come.
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That is, I pray you all with me
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beare recorde what I say:
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I here protest before you all,
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this present dieyng day,
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That I was never Traytour sure,
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nor Treason to my Queene
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Did never do, nor never thought,
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that ever hath been seene.
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And for the facte wherefore I die,
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I can it not denie:
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But at the Gate where as the Bull
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was hanged, there was I,
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In company, on more with me,
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did hange it up together:
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And though in place, I had not bin,
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it had not scaped ever.
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From hanging up, for suredly,
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for that same present day:
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It had bin hanged, in that place,
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though I had been away.
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Then sayde the Shreve, unto him,
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Oh Felton do remember:
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That thou hast bin, a Traytour great
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and to the Queene offender.
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And surely thou moste Trayterously,
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and stubbornly hast thou sought,
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The best thou couldst to go aboute,
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thy Prince to bringe to nought.
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And eke the Realme and all the rest,
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as mutche as in thee lay,
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Thou soughst by thy Traiterous harte,
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to bringe unto decay.
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Therfore call unto God the Lord,
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and pray him from thy hart:
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That he receave thy soule to rest,
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when thou from hence shalt part.
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Well so I do, and here I crave,
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you all good people pray
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For me, that ready is to dye,
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and then began to say,
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Into thy hands, Oh Lord my God,
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I yeeld my Soule and Breath:
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For thou hast me redeemd, I say,
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with thy most precious death.
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In manus tuas Domine,
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and so the rest he sayde,
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The Hangman then did throwe him of,
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and so his breath was staide.
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He hanged theare upon the Tree,
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and in a litle space:
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They cut him downe incontinent,
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that Justice might take place.
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Wher as he quartred shoulde be,
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according to the Lawe:
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And to the Judgement that he had,
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to make those stande in awe.
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That be of his affinitie:
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and surely there be some,
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That thinkes that he deservde not death
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in all that he hath don.
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He then dismembred was straight way,
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when he had ended that:
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His Belly ripped open wide,
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his Bowels all he gat.
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And to the fire he straight them threwe,
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which ready there was made:
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And there consumed all to dust,
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as is the fiers trade.
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His Head cut of, the Hangman then,
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did take it up in hand:
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And up alofte he did it showe,
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to all that there did stand.
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And then his body in Fowre partes,
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was quartred in that place:
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More pitty that his Traytorous Hart,
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could take no better grace.
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And thus he had just desarte,
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as well he had deserved:
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I would the rest that not repents,
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were likewise also served.
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Beware you Papists all beware,
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be true unto your Queene:
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Let not your Traiterous hartes be bent
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as here tofore hath been.
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Stand not against the living God,
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spurne not against his Law:
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Kicke not against the Pricke I say,
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but have him still in awe.
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Be not ashamde to torne in time,
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set shamefastnesse aside:
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No shame it is to turne to God,
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though you have gon far wide,
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The farther you have gon astray,
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and wicked wayes hath led,
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The ernester you should returne,
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from that most wicked Bed,
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Wherin you lay a sleape long while,
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forgetting of his grace:
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Now call therefore unto the Lord,
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to set you in that place,
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Where you may have eternall rest,
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and live in heaven hie:
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And rest in Abrahams bosome too,
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when that you needes must dye.
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And for that grace that God may geve,
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as I have sayde before:
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I humbly pray continually,
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both now and evermore.
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Our Prince, our Queene Elizabeth,
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a happy state to have:
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Let us all pray with one accord,
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her noble grace to save.
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And hir to keepe from all hir foes,
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and sheild eternally:
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From wicked wights that go about,
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to seeke continually:
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Hir whole decay: the Lord defend,
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hir noble royall hart:
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From yeelding to those Foes of hirs,
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that daily plaies their parte.
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For to bereeve her of her right,
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and of hir stately Crowne:
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All those (I say) that so doth seke,
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God shortly throw them downe.
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Thus here I end, and once againe,
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the living God I pray:
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Our noble Queene Elizabeth,
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preserve both night and day.
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