TREUES ENDT.
THE FUNERALL OF THE NETHERLANDS PEACE.
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A
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KNowe ye who's lately dead & gone,
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And shortly must in grave be laid?
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These Bells of Hell shal make it knowne
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With thundring noise: it shal be said
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And certified, that NETHERLAND
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Her 12 yeares TRUCE hath laid in sand.
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B
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This TRUCE the friend of Triple Crowne
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Her life she lost in Aprill last,
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Her Buriall now must be made knowne
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To all her Friends, that they in hast
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May come with grief, & grone to see,
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This trustie friend thus buried bee.
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Tis meete shee should in solemne sort
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Have them to grace her funerall,
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Who have experience (by report)
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Of much good service done them all:
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For hearts & hands shee held in bands
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Off people free in Netherlands.
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C
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Her Friends, her heires, that have & hold
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Her goods, her lands, that them she gave
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By Testament, as tis enrolld,
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These must attend about the grave.
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We place them there, because most right
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They have, to grieve to see this sight.
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Let them approach with harts in hand,
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And with their Teares their faces stayne,
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Gnashing their teeth, & wayling stand.
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Til all be done, let them remayne
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Lamenting such a freinds as this,
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That all to soone departed is.
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D
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The Children twayne she left behinde,
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Let them goe next unto the Corse,
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That we a fitting tyme may fynde,
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In grave to thrust them both perforce,
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Whilst for their Mother there they cry
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With her in grave they both may lye.
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So with the mother these two Babes,
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Bad trading and Civill-discord,
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May end their dayes; & we our trades
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Regayne & lovingly accord:
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Which once obtayned may never cease,
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Till it hath crouwnid the land with peace.
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E
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You Lords that live in frontier Townes
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With hooked Miters on your Crownes,
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With sheepheards crookes & costly gownes,
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Which plucke the fleece & starve poore clowns
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Come beare a parte, now mourne you must,
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To see your Patron laid in dust.
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F
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Preists, Fryers, Monckes, dumbe doggs and drones,
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Keep home and lurke within your cells,
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Least souldiers fall upon your bones:
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But first bring banners, beads and bells,
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With all the trickes you can devise
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This funerall to solempnise
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G
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You that Rogation weeke doe keepe,
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And other tymes processions hold,
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With Saints on shoulders, nowe come weepe
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You may no longer be so bold.
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Such saints, will souldiers hold impure
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Such holy workes they'l not endure,
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H
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Burgers of HEUSDEN and the BUSSE
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That border on the Guyse townes neare
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Tread on: for each of you and us
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Henceforth by force our armes must beare,
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For feare of those that steale and catch
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We day and night must keep good watch.
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I
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Fatte Clouwnes that in the countrye dwell,
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That dayly trudge through thick and thynne
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Whey, butter, cheese, and milke to sell,
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Good liquor for your gutts to winne,
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That swallowe down stealinge th'impost,
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Of wine and beere which yee drincke most.
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The vittailes which yourselves should eate
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For hungry souldiours shal be meate:
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What you have sowen others shall reape,
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Both goods and gilt earnd by your sweate:
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Bring TRUCE to grave, to Cityes creep
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Where you from warres may safely keep.
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K
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Ye pilgrims with your staves and coates,
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Come helpe to lay her underground;
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Her death bewayle with mournefull notes,
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That was your best protector found,
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In keeping those from you away
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Which fayne would have your Mantels graye.
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L
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Lameseeming rogues, and beggers bold,
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That halting begg, yet sound can steale,
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Prepare yourselves, now be foretold
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To packe out of this Comon weale:
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For Mars his men will hang the rout
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That want a passe, yet walke about.
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But ere you goe TRUCE doth require,
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That with your presence you her grace:
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It els would make men much admire,
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When see they should your empty place:
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Your ordre keep least men forgett,
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Where all the commers should be sett.
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All ye whom it concerneth most,
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By mourning make your love appeare:
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So shal her freinds have cause to boast,
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That many such have lov'd her deare,
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And you again shal be belov'd
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As freinds should be that are approv'd.
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M
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Now furthermore that men may have,
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The hidden secretts of the Masse,
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Therfore is sett upon the grave,
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Wherfore the TRUCE ordeyned was:
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Engraven tis upon her tombe,
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A record for the tymes to come.
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N
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Mars he his implements prepares,
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And neatly getts on bootes and spurres:
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He knowing best what fits the warres,
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Wilt not delay nor make demurres:
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But summons all with sound of drumme,
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Forwarning men heel shortly come.
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O
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The armes of TRUCE is marking worth,
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Which caried is upon her corse,
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She beares the beast that still goes forth,
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By craft deceaving, not by force,
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Seeke peace, not warre: yet warre we must,
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When peace deceaves, and proves unjust.
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The signification of the Alphabet.
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A The Canons.
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B The Corse.
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C Her Minions.
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D Her Children.
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E Bishops.
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F Preysts, Munckes, Fryors.
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G Processioners.
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H Burgers of the borderingh
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Townes.
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I The Boores or Cuntrymen.
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K Pilgryms.
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L Rogues and Beggers.
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M The grave and Monu-
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ment.
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N Mars.
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O The Armes of Truce.
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