University of Virginia Library

Search this document 
The Mirror for Magistrates

Edited from original texts in the Huntington Library by Lily B. Campbell

collapse section
collapse section
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
How king Edward through his surfeting and vntemperate life, sodainly died in the mids of his prosperity.
expand section
expand section
expand section


236

How king Edward through his surfeting and vntemperate life, sodainly died in the mids of his prosperity.

Miseremini mei ye that be my frendes,
This world hath formed me downe to fall:
How may I endure whan that every thing endes?
What creature is borne to be eternall,
Now there is no more but pray for me all.
Thus say I Edward that late was your King,
And .xxiii. yeares ruled this imperiall:
Sum vnto pleasure and sum to no liking:
Mercy I aske of my misdoing,
What auayleth it frendes to be my foe?
Sith I can not resist, nor amend your complayning,
Quia ecce nunc in pulvere dormio.
I slepe now in molde as it is naturall,
As earth vnto earth hath his reverture:
What ordeyned God to be terrestriall,
Without recourse to the earth by nature?
Who to live ever may him selfe assure?
What is it to trust on mutability?
Sith that in this world nothing may endure?
For now am I gone that was late in prosperity.

237

To presume therupon it is but a vanitye,
Not certayne, but as a chery fayre ful of wo.
Rayned not I of late in great prosperitye?
Et ecce nunc in pulvere dormio.
Where was in my life such an one as I,
While Lady Fortune with me had continuaunce?
Graunted not she me to have victory,
In England to rayne, and to contribute Fraunce?
She toke me by the hand and led me a daunce,
And with her sugred lyppes on me she smyled.
But what for her dissembled countenaunce,
I could not be ware tyl I was begiled.
Now from this worlde she hath me exiled,
Whan I was lothest hence for to goe,
And am in age as who saieth but a childe.
Et ecce nunc in pulvere dormio.
I had ynough I helde me not contente,
Without remembraunce that I should dye:
And moreover to encroch ready was I bent,
I knew not how long I should it occupy,
I made the tower strong I wist not why.
I knew not to whom I purchased Tattersall.
I amended Dover on the mountayne hye,
And London I prouoked to fortify the wall.

238

I made Notingham a place full royall.
Windsore, Eltam, and many other mo.
Yet at the last I went from them all,
Et ecce nunc in pulvere dormio.
Where is now my conquest and victory?
Where is my ritches, and royall array?
Where be my coursers and my horses hye?
Where is my mirth, my solas, and playe?
As vanity to nought all is wyddred away:
O Lady Bes, long for me may you call,
For I am departed vntill doomes day:
But love you that lord that is soveraine of all.
Where be my castels and buyldinges royall?
But Windsore alone now have I no moe.
And of Eton the prayers perpetuall,
Et ecce nunc in pulvere dormio.
Why should a man be proude or presume hye?
Saynt Barnard therof nobly doth treat,
Saying a man is but a sacke of stercory,
And shall returne vnto wurmes meat:
Why what became of Alexander the great?
Or els of strong Sampson, who can tell?
Wer not wurmes ordayned their flesh to freate?
And of Salomon that was of wit the well?
Absolon profered his heare for to sell,
Yet for all his beauty, wurmes eat him also.
And I but late in honour did excell,
Et ecce nunc in pulvere dormio.

239

I have playd my pageaunt: now am I past,
Ye wote well all I was of no great elde.
This all thing concluded shall be at the last,
Whan death approcheth, than lost is the felde:
Than seing this world me no longer vphelde,
For nought would conserve me here in my place,
In manus tuas domine my spirite vp I yelde,
Humbly beseching the o God, of thy grace.
O you curteous commons your hartes enbrace,
Beningly now to pray for me also,
For right well you know your king I was.
Et ecce nunc in pulvere dormio.