"His looks were liberal, and in his face
Sat frank magnificence with arms display'd;
His open hands discours'd his inward grace;
The poor were never at their need denay'd:*
His careless scorn of gold his deeds bewray'd:
And this he crav'd,-'no longer for to live
Than he had power and mind and will to give.'
"No man went empty from his frank dispose;
He was a purse-bearer unto the poor :
He well observ'd the meaning of this glose,-
'None lose reward that giveth of their store':
To all his bounty pass'd. Ay me, therefore,
That he should die!" With that she sigh'd
And so she wept, that she could speak no more.
The complaint of Hospitality.
Lame of a leg, as she had lost a limb,
Startup kind Hospitality and wept:
She silent sat a while and sigh'd by him;
As one half-maimèd, to this knight she crept :
At last about his neck this nymph she lept,
And, with her cornucopia in her fist,
For very love his chilly lips she kiss'd.
'Ay me," quoth she, "my love is lorn by death;
My chiefest stay is crack'd, and I am lame :
He that his alms ‡ frankly did bequeath,
And fed the poor with store of food, the same,
Even he, is dead, and vanish'd is his name,
Whose gates were open, and whose alms-deed
Supplied the fatherless' and widow's need.
"He kept no Christmas-house for once a year;
Each day his boards were fill'd with lordly fare :
He fed a rout § of yeomen with his cheer,
Nor was his bread and beef kept in with care:
His wine and beer to strangers were not spare;
And yet beside to all that hunger griev'd
His gates were ope, and they were there re-
liev'd.
"Well could the poor tell where to fetch their
"Upright he liv'd as Holy Writ him led:
His faith was not in ceremonies old;
Nor had he new-found toys within his head;
Ne was he luke-warm, neither hot nor cold:
But in religion he was constant, bold,
And still a sworn professèd foe to all
Whose looks were smooth, hearts pharisaical.
*their] Old ed. "her" (a misprint for "ther":-in the next line but one the old ed. has "And with ther teares," &c.
Lip-holiness in clergymen] Qy. "Lip-holy clergymen "?
For why the groans are less at hell's black gate Than echo there did then reverberate.
Some came with scrolls and papers in their hand;
I guess'd them suitors that did rue his loss:
Some with their children in their hand did stand;
Some poor and hungry with their hands across.
A thousand there sat wailing on the moss:
O pater patriæ !" still they cried thus,
"Hatton is dead; what shall become of us?"
At all these cries my heart was sore amov'd, Which made me long to see the dead man's face; What he should be that was so dear-belov'd, Whose worth so deep had won the people's grace. As I came pressing near unto the place,
I look'd, and, though his face were pale and wan,
Yet by his visage did I know the man.
No sooner did I cast mine eye on him
But in his face there flash'd a ruddy hue;
And though before his looks by death were grim,
Yet seem'd he smiling to my gazing view
(As if, though dead, my presence still he knew):
Seeing this change within a dead man's face,
I could not stop my tears, but wept apace.
I call'd to mind how that it was a knight
That whilom liv'd in England's happy soil:
I thought upon his care and deep insight
For country's weal, his labour and his toil
He took, lest that the English state might foil;
And how his watchful thought from first had
been
Vow'd to the honour of the Maiden Queen.
I call'd to mind again he was my friend,
And held my quiet as his heart's content:
What was so dear for me he would not spend?
Then thought I straight such friends are seldom
hent.†
Thus still from love to love my humour went,
That pondering of his loyalty so free,
I wept him dead that living honour'd me.
At this Astræa, seeing me so sad,
Gan blithely comfort me with this reply:
"Virgin," quoth she, "no boot by tears is had,
Nor do laments aught pleasure them that die.
Souls must have change from this mortality;
For, living long, sin hath the larger space,
And, dying well, they find the greater grace.
For why] i. e. Because.
thent] i. c. laid hold on,-gotten.
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