Mistres
Turners Repentance,
Who, about the poysoning of that Ho:
Knight Sir THOMAS OVERBURY, Was executed
the fourteenth day of November, last.
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TO stay the venome of Ill speaking breath
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Kills men alive, & makes them live in death
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By his il-sounding Language; this poore scrowle,
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My Christian love, to a Repentant soule
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Sends to the view of all; that all may see,
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That did not see her, all the signes that bee
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Soule-saving greifes bewrayers: how her hands,
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(While she with heavy suspiration standes)
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To Heaven are raised: how her eyes are bent
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The way of Angells; fixt, as then she meant,
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(With Egle-sight) that Glory to behold
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Eye never saw; Eare heard, nor Tongue hath told.
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How humbly-lowe, in her devotions prayer
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She bends her knee, escaped from the snare,
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Of Hells temptation. Heare her likewise speake:
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While her Repentant sorrow strives to breake
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Her very heartstrings; when her tongue bewrayes
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The many mischeifes, of those many dayes
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She had bin slav'd to Sathan. Heere said shee,
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Are many come, a wretched thing to see,
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Take her deserved Death: may my sad end
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Teach every bad beholder, how to mend
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All ill (in cogitation) 'fore it growes
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To that foule act, our frailty overthrowes.
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Dehorting still from those beloved sinnes,
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Are bosome Traytors; baites: by which Hell winnes
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Increase to his blacke Kingdome. But in cheife,
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From those, whose sad remembrance, were her greife
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In that last houre of life: lust, gawdy pride,
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And wanton painted pleasures, whose strong Tide,
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Had borne her so from goodnesse. And in summe,
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(For sinne, with her, to this account did come)
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All, all is vaine; and this vaine World can showe
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Nothing that's good, but what from Heaven doth flowe.
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Then, lifting up her fingers to her eye,
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And feeling those faire Fountaines to be drye,
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From which had runne so large a flood of teares:
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Alas (said she) heere little Grace appeares.
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And some (I feare me) that beholde this face,
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Will judge this want of teares, my want of Grace.
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But good, good People doe not, my heart's sore,
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And I have wept so much, I can no more.
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With that, fresh teares upon the suddaine fall,
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Extorting water, from the eyes of all
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That stood to see, and heare her: from the deepe
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Of greife, she weepes, to thinke she could not weepe.
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And through those teares, from her suspitious thought,
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(Knowing, men knew she had much mischeife wrought)
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She thus breaks out: When Death hath clos'd mine eyes
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And that my Body, colde, and sencelesse lyes,
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My spotted Soule, will be imagin'd straight,
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To sinke to Hell, under my sinnes sad weight.
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But, Heaven hath seal'd, to my afflicted brest
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My sinnes forgivenesse, and my soule possest
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With full assurance, of that endlesse Good
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Is purchasd onely by my Saviours blood.
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I know (said she) that She that with her teares,
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Washt Jesus feete, and wip't them with her heires,
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Was, like myselfe a Sinner; yet her sinne,
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Did Mercy wipe (as it had never bin)
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From foorth the booke of Justice: this I know,
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And know that God, that did that mercy show
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Hath showen the like to me, for in my heart,
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I feele Heav'ns pleasure, dreadlesse of Hells smart.
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Then wistly looking, on that fatall place,
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Where Life must leave her, and pale Death imbrace
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Her key-cold Body, as that Death to dye
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Did more then Deaths grim visage, fright her eye;
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From such conceit (disturbant to her minde)
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That * man, (in Death, the way of Life to finde,)
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Did then direct her; with Religious care,
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Doth thus recall her: You must now forbeare
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To place a thought, on Earth, or earthly things;
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And onely that, Coelestiall comfort brings
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Fixe heart and eye on: Now, should you transcend
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The troublous view, of this reproachfull end;
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Regarding no disgraces. On a Tree
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Dyed our Redeemer; hee that dyed for thee,
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And all Repentant Sinners. For the way,
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It makes no matter (greatly) how we pay
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This debt of Life, so Heaven assurance give,
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That then we dye, a better life to live.
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Fire, Water, Torture, any way: 'tis well
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To goe to Heav'n, ev'n by the Gates of Hell.
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From these sweete wordes, her weakenesse did receive
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Such Heavenly comfort, she prepares to leave
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The Bodyes burthen (and her Soule release,
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From that sad Prison, to EternallPeace)
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With cheerfull freenesse. No man knowes the brest;
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But this, her Language, to the Life exprest,
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In this blest manner: Let not any heere,
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That notes me pale, and quaking, thinke 'tis feare
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To see my Deaths-man: Or to meete with Death
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That now attends me, for the minutes breath
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Is yet within me. No, 'tis no such thing,
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This little paine, nere-ending pleasures bring
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And therefore I embrace it. This pale cheeke,
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Sighes, palsy-quaking, faintnes and the like,
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Are the effects of Griefe; a hearty woe,
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That makes me heart-lesse: to the best I knowe.
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As if she thus had said: These Embleames are,
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Of Peters sorrow; not of Caynes dispaire.
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To that, shee adds this comfort; Lord my God
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So dearely welcome to me, is this Rod,
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That (stead of harsh repining) I give praise,
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And humble thankes, that through so many dayes
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Of Soule-poluting mischeife,'twas thy will,
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I live to taste it. In the prime of Ill,
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Had sodaine sicknesse, or some other crosse,
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(When drosse was Gold, and golden vertue Drosse)
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Bereav'd me life, 'I had then most wretched bin,
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And unrepented, perisht in my sinne.
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Then, with a Mothers tender love, and care,
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She calls to minde her Children; and her Prayer
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Directs to Heav'n; desiring thence descend
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Those Holy blessings, might their Soules defend
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'Gainst Hels suggestions; that, (as she had done)
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They never might, in graceless courses runne.
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And (now) to make her penitence, more cleare,
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That Image-worship, that her breast once bare
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A heart Devoteto; shee in death denide,
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And Rome, and Romes fowle Heresie defide.
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Praies, Heav'ns best blessings, on our Royall King
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Might still be shewr'd; and a continuall Spring,
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Of Peace, Content, and happy dayes remaine,
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With him, with his, and all his right maintaine.
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Thus she, in life, was so extreamly nought
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As if one Act, or sound Religious thought
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Remain'd not in her; in her end appear'd
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A blest Repentant; as if Heav'n had clear'd
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Her spotted Soule, and, in his secret will,
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Then made All Good, that was Before all Ill.
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What God will doe, he can: with this I rest:
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becomes a Christian, speake, and hope the best.
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