BRIEFLY DE●SCRIBING THE Virtuous Reign, and happy (though immature) Death of the most Mighty and renowned Prince, King EDWARD the sixth, King of England, France and IRELAND, etc.  
WHO DIED IN THE Sixteenth year of his age, and in the seventh year of his Reign.  
Written by Sir JOHN CHEKE, Knight, Anno 1553.  
Never before published, but most worthy. to be Read of all Estates in these our days.  
BREVIS VITA LEVIS CULPA.  
Imprinted at London for H. Holland, and are to be sold at Christ Church-door. 1610.   

TO THE CONDIGN PRAISE, AND MEMORIAL OF THE THRICE NOBLE AND MUCH HONOURED LADY, THE LADY BARBARA VICOUNTESSE L'ISLE; THIS PRINCELY POEM BE CONSECRATED; BY HIM WHO UNFEIGNEDLY WISHES UNTO HER LADYSHIP, AND HER WORTHIEST first-born DAUGHTER, THE LADY WROTH, HEAVEN ON EARTH, AND EVERLASTING HAPPINESS IN THE HIGHEST HEAVEN.   

A ROYAL ELEGY, OF THE MOST NOBLE AND RIGHT EXCELLENT PRINCE KING EDWARD THE six.  

WHen bitter Winter forced had the Sun,  
Froth'horned Goat to Pisces ward to run:  
And lively sap that greeneth Gardens soot,  
To fly the stock to save his Nurse the root:  
And stormy Chore that blow'th by North fro East,  
Decayed the health and wealth of man and beast.  
Th' Almighty mind that reigneth three in one,  
Disposing all things from his stable Throne;  
Beheld the Earth, and man amongst the rest,  
Moved by the cry of such as were oppressed,  
But when he had the continent through viewed,  
With mammetry and Idol blood imbrued:  
Where through his Law and Gospel were defiled,  
His Love, his Aw, his worship quite exiled.  
He turned his face fro that so soul a sight,  
And toward the Isles he cast his look aright,  
In hope that where Religion did abound,  
He should some lovelier sight have quickly found;  
But when he saw all sins most vile and nought,  
Most rifely swarm where most his Word was taught:  
In England chief which he of special grace,  
Had chose to be his Church and Gospel place:  
And had for that cause poured on it such store  
Of wealthy gifts, as none could wish for more:  
Joined with a King of such a godly mind,  
As never erst he elsewhere had assigned:  
All woe and wrath he turned away his face,  
And with himself he thus bewailed our case;   

I have looked so long until mine eyes do ache,  
In hope to see they should their sins for sake,  
To hide their mischiefs waxing more and more,  
I have wink't so long until mine eyes before.  
My throat is hoarse, my tongue hath lost the skin,  
Through fervent cry to fray them fro their sin.  
If gentle means might move them to relent,  
What have they wished that hath not strait been sent  
Sith then they pass for neither threats nor love,  
Nor easy plagues, whereby I do them prove:  
What else remains but to confound them all,  
Both young and old the mighty with the small.   

CHRIST hearing this and moved with the tears  
Of virtuous folk (for whose sake God forbears  
The wicked sort although their sins be great)  
For his elect, began thus to entreat,   

Dear Father, if just justice should take place,  
I know it bootless now to sue for grace:  
But though their sins all measure do exceed,  
Withhold thy wrath, grant mercy yet at need:  
And sith through faith the better sort be mine,  
Give leave to weed and water once thy vine:  
That done, if so their fruits do not amend,  
As barren Brambles bring them to an end;   

When this our saviours merciful request,  
Was sunk into his Father's heavy breast:  
He neither granted it nor yet denied,  
But Fatherlike thus to his Son he said;   

To sue for mercy I marvel what you mean,  
For such a sort as doreiect us clean:  
Behold the Heads, what else do they devise  
Save under us to cloak their covetise,  
Thine heritage, they have the whole bereft,  
Except thy shirt, le's see what have they left.  
They spoil, they spill, they wast upon their pride,  
That which was given thy needy corpse to hide.  
Thy gold thy plate thy houses with the lands,  
That were the poors are in the rich men's hands.  
And thou liest naked begging at their doors,  
Whiles they consume thy substance with their whores.  
And as for Law whereby men should have right,  
It's wholly ruled by money and by might:  
And where the rich the needy should relieve,  
Their study is to begg'rie them to drive:  
What Titles forge they falsely to their lands,  
Until at length they wring them fro their hands:  
How join they house to house, how farm to farm,  
And lease to lease, the silly poor to harm.  
How raise they rends, what incomes, yea what fines,  
Exact they still, though all the world repines:  
How suffer they their grain to rot and hore,  
To make things dear, when I give plenty store?  
And where they brag they do our word advance,  
Have not they spoiled or fleest all maintenance,  
That thereto served? what kind of Clergy land  
Is free this day out of the lay-man's hand?  
What Gentleman, what Merchant, yea what Swain,  
Doth not, or may not part thereof retain,  
I cannot name the vileness of the rest,  
So sore my heart their robbery doth detest:  
Is this the way our Honour to defend?  
No, no, we see right well what they intent:  
I loathe to think upon their wicked lives,  
How ill they keep their duties to their wives?  
For what respect do they their marriage make,  
Save riches, Honour, or promotion sake?  
Alas how are our Orphans bought and sold.  
Our widows forced to wed where they ne would,  
What vow, what oath, what bond so strongly knit,  
Doth hold, if gain may grow by breaking it?  
And when my Preachers tell them aught hereof,  
How vex they them with many a threat and scoff,  
Which moveth such, as do thy manhood spoil,  
And rob from thee the merit of thy toil,  
To hate thy word and count thy Prophet's evil,  
Wishing both it and them too at the Devil.  
Are these thy flock? thy Vine canst thou them call?  
That steal thy lands, thy goods, thy glory and all?  
When for these sins I sent them late the Sweat,  
How low they crouched, how hard they did entreat,  
What vows they made, they would their lives amend.  
Whereas it seems they did nought less pretend  
For I no sooner had withdrawn my curse,  
But they immediately grew worse and worse,  
For where they vowed to fly and lay aside  
Their avarice, their gluttony and pride.  
Have not they raised their Rents and Merchandises,  
And swelled their guts with dainty wine and spices,  
And Idol-like with bossed silk and gold,  
Arrayed their wives and children young and old?  
As for themselves, so gorgeously they tyre,  
As Gods Eterne, more like than earthly mire:  
Shall we then suffer so perverse a Nation,  
To scorn and mock their God in such a fashion?  
No sure my Son that were against all right,  
Yet for thy sake I will not stroy them quite:  
But for to prove them once at thy request,  
I'll only touch their King, and warn the rest,  
T'amend their lives, if still they disobey,  
I'll take their King, their comfort joy and stay.  
But if his death they cast eke at their heel,  
I'll pour down plagues till every one do feel.  
This said, he called his servant Crazy Cold,  
Whom th'Icy King kept prisoner fast in hold,  
About the Poles where under he doth dwell,  
In g'rtsly dark like to most hideous hell.  
In Caves and Rocks of Snow and frozen Ice,  
That never thaw; and charged him in this wise.   

About three climates henceward to the South,  
Between the maine-land and the Ocean mouth,  
Two islands lie scarce distant twenty mile,  
Of which the larger and the Eastward jie,  
Called Britanny, until the people's sin,  
Drove forth themselves and brought strange Nations in,  
Is now divided into portions three:  
And in the same as many people's be.  
Of whom the best and civil-like to sight  
(But worst indeed) the English Nation hight.  
And they dwell in the South part of the land,  
Fronth'mids whereof, thou shalt well understand,  
A River runneth Eastward to the main  
Sea-arme, that parteth it and France in twain  
About this River many slately Towers,  
Are bravely built with Casties and with Bowers.  
Wherein the King and Princes commonly,  
In Winter time with their whole households lie.  
To one of these I will thou hie in post,  
To that I mean whereas the King is most.  
I thought to bid thee mark the great resort,  
But do not so, for others bear a port,  
As great as he; and greater otherwhile:  
But mark well this, it will thee not beguile;  
The mournful cheer of many a Suitors face,  
Will show thee sure which is his biding place.  
And when thou hast his house, and person found,  
I will thou shalt his healthy Corpse unsound.  
But see thou hurt him not unto the death,  
Thou shalt but stop his windpipe: that his breath  
Constrained, may cause the Cough rise in his breast,  
Else what shall cure or remedy the rest.   

But in this feat I charge thee, see thou look,  
Thou harm him not whiles he is at his book,  
Or other kind of honest exercise,  
Nor yet at Game, so it be void of vice.  
But if this Winter time thou mayest him mark,  
To ride all day full armed about the Park,  
Or else at Dice, or Tennis out of time,  
T'ore watch or toil himself, for such a crime,  
Strike hardily, but not too hard I say,  
This is thy charge, about it, go thy way.   

Scarce was this errand thoroughly to him told,  
But forth did come this shivering crazy cold:  
With I sickles be bristled like a Bear,  
Which stuck about his head instead of hair.  
His skin was hard made all of glassy Ice,  
Covered with hoary frost like grayish freeze,  
His arms and legs to keep him warm, I trow,  
Were plated over with fleakes of frozen snow.  
And from his mouth there steamed a breath so hot,  
As could touch nothing, it congealed not.  
But when he had arroused himself awhile,  
And stretched his joints as stiff as any style,  
Because he would his charge no longer slack,  
He got him up on blustering Boreas back.  
And forth he went, his horse so heavy troad,  
That all the world may know what way he road:  
For in his path there grew no kind of green,  
That could in long time after well be seen.  
His breath and blustering was so sharp and shrill,  
That floods for fear congealed and stood still.  
The Holts, the Heaths, the Hills became all grey,  
The Trees did shrink, so great was their affray:  
The frozen sheep shook feeding near to fold,  
While clum say shepherd blew his nails for cold.  
Wild beasts, and fowls, more fearful than the mouse,  
Forsook the woods, and tamely came to house.   

When this fell horseman with his grisly steed,  
Had passed Island and made forth such speed:  
That many Scots bade, Foule-ill ta the Carl,  
That slew their sheep and Cattle with his wharle:  
He passed York, and came to London strait,  
And there he light to give his horse a bait,  
Where, ere he had three days in stable stood,  
He eat so much, the poor could get no wood,  
Except they would pay after double prize,  
For Billet treble under common size.   

But crazy Cold watched all this while at Court,  
To spy a time when he the King might hurt,  
For when he saw him in a morning sweat,  
And call for drink to cool his Tennis heat,  
He closely crept and hid him in the cup:  
And when the King (alas) had drunk him up,  
Strait to his stomach downward he him got:  
And there perceiving all the entrails hot.  
And that each member greedily did pluck,  
To help itself, all succour it could suck:  
He marked the food that went unto the lungs,  
And slily mixed his vigour there-amongs,  
That cooling it, so stopped the pipes therewith,  
As to dissolve it; Nature had no pith.   

That done, to London strait from Court he came,  
And there infected divers with the same,  
Whereof the most part who were charyly tended,  
Recovered well, and thoroughly are amended,  
But some whose Nature Physic over priest,  
Are gone to God and sleep in quiet rest.   

When crazy cold this cruel feat had wrought,  
He took his Steed that had him hither brought,  
And forth he road to him that sent him hither,  
And so forth home, or else I wot not whither.   

Strait after this within a day or twain,  
The King being sick did of his breast complain,  
The cold congealed that in his Lungs lay raw,  
Did stop the pipes through which the wind should draw,  
By means whereof his stomach waxed faint,  
Till Nature, helped through Physical constraint  
Did make a way by purging part thereof,  
Where through ensued a shrewd and vehement cough,  
With reaching oft as if the heart should break,  
Which made the vital power and blood grow weak,  
For help whereof Physicians did repair,  
And thought it best to keep him from the air.  
But when his Grace had long been lacked abroad,  
His Lovers mourned, the Preachers laid on load,  
Who knowing the Prince was plagued for our sin,  
Did warn us daily amendment to begin,  
With threats from God, if now we linger time,  
His Grace should die, and all we bear the crime.  
And after his death such worthy plagues ensue,  
As all should feel, and then too late might rue.  
The Magistrate was plainly told his fault,  
The man of Law, was warned not to halt.  
Request was made the church-good to restore,  
Or put to th'uses they were given for,  
Lease-mungers, Landlords, such as raised rend,  
Were moved t'abate their Lands to ancient stint.  
The waist of fare, the vainness of attire,  
Extortion, Malice, covetous desire;  
All Papistry and fruitless Gospel-boast,  
Was cried against, and damned as wicked most,  
And finally fro the lowest to the highest:  
All were desired to love the Law of Christ:  
With threats too true from God the living Lord,  
In whose just eye all sin is sore abhorred:  
That if we would not these our sins repent,  
Our King should die and we too late lament.  
But yet, alas, how were these Prophets heard,  
The heads withdrew from hearing all afraid,  
Lest some good motion might corrupt their mind:  
By whose example the people nought by kind,  
took hart-of-grace the Preachers to despise;  
With slanderous words and shameless forged lies;  
Gods bitter threats they made a very mock,  
His Preachers too a common jesting stock:  
As for amendment, none at all was seen,  
But into worse all ills were turned clean:  
When God had suffered all these things a space,  
And saw at last how all refused his grace:  
And that no threats might cause them to retire,  
To stay the stroke of his consuming i●e:  
He strait decreed to take the guiltless child,  
For speed whereof he utterly exiled  
All means whereby he might recover force,  
And did permit all things to harm his corpse.   

Then grew his grief, his flesh began to swell,  
And long he lay in pangs like to the hell:  
Till at the last God, pitying the pain,  
Wherein so long the Innocent had lain.  
Which eke he knew quite destitute of aid,  
Did call for Death, and thus to him he said;   

Dispatch at once, to Greenwich see thou hie;  
Whereas my servant EDWARD now doth lie.  
In painful pangs which he hath long been in,  
Not for his own, but for his people's sin.  
Enforce thine Arm and with thy piercing dart,  
Divide in twain that godly piteous heart:  
What weep'st thou Death? cease fool, and hold thy tongue,  
What though he be so beautiful and young;  
So godly a ' Prince, so manly and so meek,  
As never Kingdom yet hath had his like:  
He is too good for that ungodly Realm,  
Wherhfore I say, go strike the stroke extreme:  
Take no compassion on his tender youth,  
His wit, his Learning, nor his love to truth:  
But wotest thou what, let not thy form be such  
An ugly shape as to the worldly rich.  
It oft appears, but pleasant as it is  
To such as long for everlasting bliss:  
With lovely shape and smiling cheer I say,  
Goefetch my King, have-done and go thy way:   

When doleful death had heard this hard devise,  
He trimmed himself in his most godly guise,  
Like Mercury in every kind of grace,  
Save that he had a much more lovely face:  
And forth he flew till he came to the bed,  
Whereas this Prince lay neither quick nor dead.  
But in a trance, for why his deadly grief,  
With nature strove to prove, who should be chief,  
But when weak Nature had consumed her best,  
She yielded straight and so the struggle ceased.  
Whereby the King came to himself again,  
And seeing Death he turned away amain.  
For why? his youth and yet unflowred breath,  
Could not consent to so unripe a Death.   

Dry Death itself with pity moved thee,  
Had such a do to hide his inward woe.  
But seeing the lovely Prince was so afraid,  
With smiling cheer to comfort him he said:  
Beloved of God abash not but assent,  
For God th'almighty hath me to you sent:  
Who ruing sore your grief and woeful case,  
Would have you come to solace with his grace,  
In joy, and bliss and everlasting glory,  
From earthly things all vile and transitory:  
From this your state uncertain and unsure,  
Unto a Reign that shall for aye endure:  
No sooner had our Sovereign heard of this,  
But that his spirit that much had longed for bliss,  
Would needs away; howbeit his careful mind,  
For this his Realm which he must leave behind,  
Enforced his Grace to pray Death stay a while:  
To th'end he might himself both reconcile  
To God the Lord, and also recommend,  
His Realm to him, for ever to defend,  
And while that Death for this cause gladly stayed,  
He sat him up and thus devoutly prayed.   

Have mercy on me Father dear, thou Lord and God of truth,  
O let thy mercy hide the sins and frailty of my youth:   

I have transgressed thy Law too oft, full woe is me therefore:  
But for thy Son my saviours sake to mercy me restore.   

My flesh doth crave to keep the life, full loath to leave the light,  
But Lord do thou as shall seem best in thy Almighty sight.  
(whelm,   

And when thou shalt receive my soul which griefs now over-  
Be merciful, most merciful, to this my silly Realm.   

Preserve thy truth, maintain thy word, pour plenty of thy grace  
On all their hearts whom thou shalt set to govern in my place.   

Thus Lord I render to thy hands myself, my flock, my seat,  
Do with them all as thou think'st best, for Christ's sake I entreat.   

AMEN (quoth death) and with his deadly dare  
clave straight in twain his fervent praying heart.  
But Lord how glad the Ghost was of the stroke?  
For when he saw his prison gate was broke,  
Fast forth he flew, and up to heaven went  
To rest with Christ in joy's that never stint:  
The dying body round about did sprawl,  
While they about him on the King did call,  
Adawing him as if he were in swoon,  
But all for nought, he had his mortal wound:  
And when the blood which would have holp the heart,  
Had stifled it, and left each other part:  
Then waxed his face and hands all pale and wan.  
And when the bloodless parts to cool began,  
To heaven ward his hand and eyes he cast,  
Down fell his Jaw, his heartstrings all to braced:   

Thus died this King, this guiltless blessed child,  
In body and Soul a virgin undefiled:  
The sixteenth year of his unperfect age.  
Wo worth us men whose sins'let run at rage,  
Have murdered him, woe worth us wretches all,  
On whom the wreak of righteous blood must fall,  
Wo worth our sins for they alas have slain,  
The Noblest Prince that ever yet did Reign.    

AN EPITAPH OR DEATH DOLE, OF THE RIGHT Excellent Prince, King EDWARD the sixth, who who died in the sixteenth year of his Age, and in the seventh year of his Reign; and was Buried at Westminster in the Tomb of his Grandfather, the eighth of August. Anno Dom. 1553.  

THe noble heart which fear could never move,  
In which a virtuous freighted mind did rest,  
The face whose cheer alured unto love,  
All hearts, through eyes, which pity whole possessed,  
The brain which wit & wisdom made their chest,  
Full stuffed with all good gifts that man may have,  
Rest with a Princely carcase here in grave.   

The virtuous gifts commixed with the mind,  
As godly fear, a zeal to further truth,  
Such skill of tongues, and arts of every kind,  
With manhood, prudence, justice joined with ruth,  
As age seld hath, though here they 'greed with youth:  
Are from their wemles undefiled Ghost,  
Gone hence to Heaven with the godly host:  
Of which two parts fast linked in bonds of life,  
It pleased the Lord to lend us late a King:  
But out, alas, our sins they were so rife,  
And we so worthless of so good a thing,  
That Atropos did cut in twain the string,  
Long ere her sisters sixteen wharles had spun,  
Or we the gain of seven years Reign through won.   

woe worth our sins, our sins, our sins I say,  
The wreak of them hath reft us such an one,  
As never Realm the like recover may,  
A peerless Prince, a Phoenix bird alone:  
Ah well is he, but we full woe begun,  
Our wicked lives have lost this guiltless guide,  
Whose ghost the heaven, whose corpse this hearse doth  
(hide.   
FINIS.