Why was tichborne executed

From the perspective of eternity this is small beer indeed, the moment between death and life is tiny, his suffering will be inconspicuous, his transition to heaven instantaneous. Although the poem picks up on many images of regret and despair, it is itself far from despairing. Chidiock, although in some ways apparently regretful, seems in other ways to hold defiantly to his course. Tichborne was someone who committed treason against the Queen of England, and sought to assassinate her.

He also believed profoundly that he was doing the right thing. Is it possible to feel sympathy for Tichborne, or is it as difficult as feeling sympathy for a modern terrorist who seeks to destabilise the state?

How does the historical context change our view of the poem? If it was written by someone on death row in America, would it have the same force? To look at the letter that Tichborne wrote to his wife is a moving and interesting context for the poem.

Reading this letter, is it possible to say that it reflects ideas in the poem, or are the two texts about entirely different things? Another interesting exercise is to compare the response to the poem by T. The poem seeks to imitate the elegy in style. Does it do this effectively? How does it fail? Could students come up with a better version? Although he went out there and saw the world, his potential was never realised.

In the final stanza, Tichborne reflects that, to borrow from T. His life is but a shadow of what it could have been. One moment the hourglass is full of grains of sand, and the next moment they have all run out, and his time is up. The poem is a masterly balance of contrasts, presenting, in each successive line, two distinct states: his field of corn is actually a field of weeds; the leaves are green and yet the fruit has already fallen from the tree, dead. After all, to his mind he is a brave representative of the true Christian faith being executed by a corrupt Protestant government.

Yet Tichborne also probably believed he was a Catholic martyr who would be rewarded in heaven, which perhaps explains the more stoic tone glimpsed in that repeated refrain. Like Tichborne, Kyd would later fall foul of the authorities for his associations with Christopher Marlowe , and would be tortured in the Tower; although he was later released, he would die of his injuries less than a year later. Thy prime of youth is frozen with thy faults, Thy feast of joy is finisht with thy fall; Thy crop of corn is tares availing naughts, Thy good God knows thy hope, thy hap and all.

Time trieth truth, and truth hath treason tripped; Thy faith bare fruit as thou hadst faithless been: Thy ill spent youth thine after years hath nipt; And God that saw thee hath preserved our Queen. Her thread still holds, thine perished though unspun, And she shall live when traitors lives are done. Thy glory, and thy glass are timeless run; And this, O Tychborne, hath thy treason done.

Beautiful and poignant. Thanks for revealing this beauty. The only sliver of poetic justice is the end of villainous Mr Kyd. Then am I ready, like a palmer fit, To tread those blest paths which before I writ. Let's hope it brought him some temporary serenity and consolation. The poem was first printed in , in the Royalist compilation, Verses of Prayse and Joye.

I thought it would be interesting to include the riposte to the elegy, printed in the same collection, and usually attributed I hope wrongly to the pioneering Elizabethan dramatist Thomas Kyd. The "Decasyllabon" lacks the force and skill of the original.

There's no larger perspective, no sense of compassion. Its author lamely tries to appropriate Tichborne's metaphorical grand slam, only to say nothing more interesting than that the young traitor got all he deserved.

I'm not sure what conclusion might be drawn from this, beyond the fact that Tichborne had the greater poetic talent. It might be that death makes a better muse than hatred, except that hatred has inspired plenty of fine satirical poems in its time. Perhaps the real trouble is that TK was not writing from any strong personal emotion at all. He was simply voicing the politically correct and safe sentiments of his age, conscious that the Queen's censors were looking over his shoulder.

Tychbornes Elegie, written with his owne hand in the Tower before his execution. My prime of youth is but a frost of cares, My feast of joy is but a dish of paine, My Crop of corne is but a field of tares, And al my good is but vaine hope of gaine. The day is past, and yet I saw no sunne, And now I live, and now my life is done. My thred is cut, and yet it is not spunne, And now I live, and now my life is done.