[Enter Sir Thomas More, his Lady, Daughters, Master Roper,
Gentlemen, and Servants, as in his house at Chelsea.]
MORE.
Good morrow, good son Roper.—
Sit, good madame,
[Low stools.]
Upon an humble seat; the time so craves;
Rest your good heart on earth, the roof of graves:
You see the floor of greatness is uneven;
The cricket and high throne alike near heaven.—
Now, daughters, you that like to branches spread,
And give best shadow to a private house,
Be comforted, my girls; your hopes stand fair:
Virtue breeds gentry, she makes the best heir.
BOTH DAUGHTERS.
Good morrow to your honor.
MORE.
Nay, good night rather;
Your honor’s crest-fain with your happy father.
ROPER.
Oh, what formality, what square observance,
Lives in a little room! here public care
Gags not the eyes of slumber; here fierce riot
Ruffles not proudly in a coat of trust,
Whilst, like a pawn at chess, he keeps in rank
With kings and mighty fellows; yet indeed
Those men that stand on tiptoe smile to see
Him pawn his fortunes.
MORE.
True, son,....
Nor does the wanton tongue here screw itself
Into the ear, that like a vise drinks up
The iron instrument.
LADY MORE.
We are here at peace.
MORE.
Then peace, good wife.
LADY MORE.
For, keeping still in compass, a strange point
In times new navigation we have sailed
Beyond our course.
MORE.
Have done.
LADY MORE.
We are exiled the court.
MORE.
Still thou harpest on that:
Tis sin for to deserve that banishment;
But he that ne’er knew court, courts sweet content.
LADY MORE.
Oh, but, dear husband—
MORE.
I will not hear thee, wife;
The winding labyrinth of thy strange discourse
Will ne’er have end. Sit still; and, my good wife,
Entreat thy tongue be still; or, credit me,
Thou shalt not understand a word we speak;
We’ll talk in Latin.
Humida vallis raros patitur fulminis ictus,
More rest enjoys the subject meanly bred
Than he that bears the kingdom in his head.
Great men are still musicians, else the world lies;
They learn low strains after the notes that rise.
ROPER.
Good sir, be still yourself, and but remember
How in this general court of short-lived pleasure,
The world, creation is the ample food
That is digested in the maw of time:
If man himself be subject to such ruin,
How shall his garment, then, or the loose points
That tie respect unto his awful place,
Avoid destruction? Most honored father-in-law,
The blood you have bequeathed these several hearts
To nourish your posterity, stands firm;
And, as with joy you led us first to rise,
So with like hearts we’ll lock preferment’s eyes.
MORE.
Close them not, then, with tears: for that ostent
Gives a wet signal of your discontent.
If you will share my fortunes, comfort then;
An hundred smiles for one sigh: what! we are men:
Resign wet passion to these weaker eyes,
Which proves their sex, but grants it ne’er more wise.
Let’s now survey our state. Here sits my wife,
And dear esteemed issue; yonder stand
My loving servants: now the difference
Twixt those and these. Now you shall hear my speak
Like More in melancholy. I conceive that nature
Hath sundry metals, out of which she frames
Us mortals, each in valuation
Outprizing other: of the finest stuff
The finest features come: the rest of earth,
Receive base fortune even before their birth;
Hence slaves have their creation; and I think
Nature provides content for the base mind;
Under the whip, the burden, and the toil,
Their low-wrought bodies drudge in patience;
As for the prince in all his sweet-gorged maw,
And his rank flesh, that sinfully renews
The noon’s excess in the night’s dangerous surfeits.
What means or misery from our birth doth flow
Nature entitles to us; that we owe:
But we, being subject to the rack of hate,
Falling from happy life to bondage state,
Having seen better days, now know the lack
Of glory that once reared each high-fed back.
But you, that in your age did ne’er view better,
Challenged not fortune for your thriftless debter.
CATESBY.
Sir, we have seen far better days than these.
MORE.
I was the patron of those days, and know
Those were but painted days, only for show.
Then grieve not you to fall with him that gave them:
Generosis servis gloriosum mori.
Dear Gough, thou art my learned secretary;
You, Master Catesby, steward of my house;
The rest like you have had fair time to grow
In sun-shine of my fortunes. But I must tell ye,
Corruption is fled hence with each man’s office;
Bribes, that make open traffic twixt the soul
And netherland of hell, deliver up
Their guilty homage to the second lords.
Then, living thus untainted, you are well:
Truth is no pilot for the land of hell.
[Enter a Servant.]
SERVANT.
My lord, there are new lighted at the gate
The Earls of Surrey and of Shrewsbury,
And they expect you in the inner court.
MORE.
Entreat their lordships come into the hall.
[Exit Servant.]
LADY MORE.
Oh, God, what news with them?
MORE.
Why, how now, wife!
They are but come to visit their old friend.
LADY MORE.
Oh, God, I fear, I fear!
MORE.
What shouldst thou fear, fond woman?
Justum, si fractus illabatur orbis, inpavidum ferient ruinae.
Here let me live estranged from great men’s looks;
They are like golden flies on leaden hooks.
[Enter the Earls, Downs with his mace, and Attendants.]
SHREWSBURY.
Good morrow, good Sir Thomas.
[Kind salutations.]
SURREY.
Good day, good madame.
MORE.
Welcome, my good lords.
What ails your lordships look so melancholy?
Oh, I know; you live in court, and the court diet
Is only friend to physic.
SURREY.
Oh, Sir Thomas,
Our words are now the kings, and our sad looks
The interest of your love! We are sent to you
From our mild sovereign, once more to demand
If you’ll subscribe unto those articles
He sent ye th’ other day: be well advised;
For, on mine honor, lord, grave Doctor Fisher
Bishop of Rochester, at the self same instant
Attached with you, is sent unto the Tower
For the like obstinacy: his majesty
Hath only sent you prisoner to your house;
But, if you now refuse for to subscribe,
A stricter course will follow.
LADY MORE.
Oh, dear husband!
[Kneeling and weeping.]
BOTH DAUGHTERS.
Dear father!
MORE.
See, my lords,
This partner and these subjects to my flesh
Prove rebels to my conscience! But, my good lords,
If I refuse, must I unto the Tower?
SHREWSBURY.
You must, my lord; here is an officer
Ready for to arrest you of high treason.
LADY MORE AND DAUGHTERS.
Oh, God, oh, God!
ROPER.
Be patient, good madam.
MORE.
Aye, Downs, ist thou? I once did save thy life,
When else by cruel riotous assault
Thou hadst been torn in pieces: thou art reserved
To be my summoner to yond spiritual court.
Give me thy hand; good fellow, smooth thy face:
The diet that thou drinkst is spic’d with mace,
And I could ne’er abide it; ’twill not disgest,
Twill lie too heavily, man, on my weak breast.
SHREWSBURY.
Be brief, my lord, for we are limited
Unto an hour.
MORE.
Unto an hour! tis well:
The bell soon shall toll my knell.
LADY MORE.
Dear loving husband, if you respect not me,
Yet think upon your daughters.
[Kneeling.]
MORE.
Wife, stand up; I have bethought me,
And I’ll now satisfy the king’s good pleasure.
[Pointing to himself.]
BOTH DAUGHTERS.
Oh, happy alteration!
SHREWSBURY.
Come, then, subscribe, my lord.
SURREY.
I am right glad of this your fair conversion.
MORE.
Oh, pardon me!
I will subscribe to go unto the Tower
With all submissive willingness, and thereto add
My bones to strengthen the foundation
Of Julius Caesar’s palace. Now, my lord,
I’ll satisfy the king, even with my blood;
Now will I wrong your patience.—Friend, do thine office.
DOWNES.
Sir thomas More, Lord Chancellor of England, I arrest you in the
king’s name of high treason.
MORE.
Gramercies, friend.
To a great prison, to discharge the strife
Commenc’d twixt conscience and my frailer life,
More now must march. Chelsea, adieu, adieu!
Strange farewell! thou shalt ne’er more see More true,
For I shall ne’er see thee more.—Servants, farewell.—
Wife, mar not thine indifferent face; be wise:
More’s widow’s husband, he must make thee rise.—
Daughters....: —what’s here, what’s here?
Mine eye had almost parted with a tear.—
Dear son, possess my virtue, that I ne’er gave.—
Grave More thus lightly walks to a quick grave.
ROPER.
Curae leves loquuntur, ingentes stupent.
MORE.
You that way in; mind you my course in prayer:
By water I to prison, to heaven through air.
[Exeunt.]
ACT V.
SCENE I. The Tower Gate.
[Enter the Warders of the Tower, with halbards.]
FIRST WARDER.
Ho, make a guard there!
SECOND WARDER.
Master Lieutenant gives a straight command,
The people be avoided from the bridge.
THIRD WARDER.
From whence is he committed, who can tell?
FIRST WARDER.
From Durham House, I hear.
SECOND WARDER.
The guard were waiting there are hour ago.
THIRD WARDER.
If he stay long, he’ll not get near the wharf,
There’s such a crowd of boats upon the Thames.
SECOND WARDER.
Well, be it spoken without offence to any,
A wiser or more virtuous gentleman
Was never bred in England.
THIRD WARDER.
I think, the poor will bury him in tears:
I never heard a man, since I was born,
So generally bewailed of every one.
[Enter a Poor Woman.]
What means this woman?—Whether doost thou press?
FIRST WARDER.
This woman will be trod to death anon.
SECOND WARDER.
What makest thou here?
WOMAN.
To speak with that good man, Sir Thomas More.
SECOND WARDER.
To speak with him! he’s not Lord Chancellor.
WOMAN.
The more’s the pity, sir, if it pleased God.
SECOND WARDER.
Therefore, if thou hast a petition to deliver,
Thou mayst keep it now, for any thing I know.
WOMAN.
I am a poor woman, and have had (God knows)
A suit this two year in the Chancery;
And he hath all the evidence I have
Which should I lose, I am utterly undone.
SECOND WARDER.
Faith, and I fear thoult hardly come by am now;
I am sorry for thee, even with all my heart.
[Enter the Lords with Sir Thomas More, and Attendants, and enter
Lieutenant and Gentleman Porter.]
Woman, stand back, you must avoid this place;
The lords must pass this way into the Tower.
MORE.
I thank your lordships for your pains thus far
To my strong house.
WOMAN.
Now, good Sir Thomas More, for Christ’s dear sake,
Deliver me my writings back again
That do concern my title.
MORE.
What, my old client, are thou got hither too?
Poor silly wretch, I must confess indeed,
I had such writings as concern thee near;
But the king has ta’en the matter into his own hand;
He has all I had: then, woman, sue to him;
I cannot help thee; thou must bear with me.
WOMAN.
Ah, gentle heart, my soul for thee is sad!
Farewell the best friend that the poor e’er had.
[Exit Woman.]
GENTLEMAN PORTER.
Before you enter through the Towergate,
Your upper garment, sir, belongs to me.
MORE.
Sir, you shall have it; there it is.
[He gives him his cap.]
GENTLEMAN PORTER.
The upmost on your back, sir; you mistake me.
MORE.
Sir, now I understand ye very well:
But that you name my back,
Sure else my cap had been the uppermost.
SHREWSBURY.
Farewell, kind lord; God send us merry meeting!
MORE.
Amen, my lord.
SURREY.
Farewell, dear friend; I hope your safe return.
MORE.
My lord, and my dear fellow in the Muses,
Farewell; farewell, most noble poet.
LIEUTENANT.
Adieu, most honored lords.
[Exeunt Lords.]
MORE.
Fair prison, welcome; yet, methinks,
For thy fair building tis too foul a name.
Many a guilty soul, and many an innocent,
Have breathed their farewell to thy hollow rooms.
I oft have entered into thee this way;
Yet, I thank God, ne’er with a clear conscience
Than at this hour:
This is my comfort yet, how hard sore
My lodging prove, the cry of the poor suitor,
Fatherless orphan, or distressed widow,
Shall not disturb me in my quiet sleep.
On, then, a God’s name, to our close abode!
God is as strong here as he is abroad.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE II. More’s House.
[Enter Butler, Porter, and Horsekeeper several ways.]
BUTLER.
Robin brewer, how now, man! what cheer, what cheer?
BREWER.
Faith, Ned butler, sick of thy disease; and these our other fellows
here, Rafe horsekeeper and Giles porter, sad, sad; they say my lord
goes to his trial today.
HORSEKEEPER.
To it, man! why, he is now at it, God send him well to speed!
PORTER.
Amen; even as i wish to mine own soul, so speed it with my
honorable lord and master, Sir Thomas More.
BUTLER.
I cannot tell, I have nothing to do with matters above my capacity;
but, as God judge me, if I might speak my mind, I think there lives
not a more harmless gentleman in the universal world.
BREWER.
Nor a wiser, nor a merrier, nor an honester; go to, I’ll put that in
upon mine own knowledge.
PORTER.
Nay, and ye bait him his due of his housekeeping, hang ye all! ye
have many Lord Chancellor’s comes in debt at the year’s end, and
for very housekeeping.
HORSEKEEPER.
Well, he was too good a lord for us, and therefore, I fear, God
himself will take him: but I’ll be hanged, if ever I have such an
other service.
BREWER.
Soft, man, we are not discharged yet: my lord may come home
again, and all will be well.
BUTLER.
I much mistrust it; when they go to raining once, there’s ever foul
weather for a great while after. But soft; here comes Master
Gough and Master Catesby: now we shall hear more.
[Enter Gough and Catesby with a paper.]
HORSEKEEPER.
Before God, they are very sad; I doubt my lord is condemned.
PORTER.
God bless his soul! and a fig then for all wordly condemnation.
GOUGH.
Well said, Giles porter, I commend thee for it;
Twas spoken like a well affected servant
Of him that was a kind lord to us all.
CATESBY.
Which now no more he shall be; for, dear fellows,
Now we are masterless, though he may live
So long as please the king: but law hath made him
A dead man to the world, and given the axe his head,
But his sweet soul to live among the saints.
GOUGH.
Let us entreat ye to go call together
The rest of your sad fellows (by the rule
Y’are just seven score), and tell them what we hear
A virtuous honorable lord hath done
Even for the meanest follower that he had.
This writing found my lady in his study,
This instant morning, wherein is set down
Each servant’s name, according to his place
And office in the house: on every man
He frankly hath bestown twenty nobles,
The best and worst together, all alike,
Which Master Catesby here forth will pay ye.
CATESBY.
Take it as it is meant, a kind remembrance
Of a fair kinder lord, with whose sad fall
He gives up house and farewell to us all:
Thus the fair spreading oak falls not alone,
But all the neighbor plants and under-trees
Are crushed down with his weight. No more of this:
Come, and receive your due, and after go
Fellow-like hence, copartners of one woe.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE III. The Tower.
[Enter Sir Thomas More, the Lieutenant, and a Servant attending,
as in his chamber in the Tower.]
MORE.
Master Lieutenant, is the warrant come?
If it be so, a God’s name, let us know it.
LIEUTENANT.
My lord, it is.
MORE.
Tis welcome, sir, to me with all my heart;
His blessed will be done!
LIEUTENANT.
Your wisdom, sir, hath been so well approved,
And your fair patience in imprisonment
Hath ever shewn such constancy of mind
And Christian resolution in all troubles,
As warrant us you are not unprepared.
MORE.
No, Master Lieutenant;
I thank my God, I have peace of conscience,
Though the world and I are at a little odds:
But we’ll be even now, I hope, ere long.
When is the execution of your warrant?
LIEUTENANT.
Tomorrow morning.
MORE.
So, sir, I thank ye;
I have not lived so ill, I fear to die.
Master Lieutenant, I have had a sore fit of the stone tonight; but the
king hath sent me such a rare receipt, I thank him, as I shall not
need to fear it much.
LIEUTENANT.
In life and death still merry Sir Thomas More.
MORE.
Sirrah fellow, reach me the urinal:
[He gives it him.]
Ha! let me see (there’s) gravel in the water;
(And yet I see no grave danger in that)
The man were likely to live long enough,
So pleased the king.—Here, fellow, take it.
SERVANT.
Shall I go with it to the doctor, sir?
MORE.
No, save thy labour; we’ll cossen him of a fee:
Thou shalt see me take a dram tomorrow morning,
Shall cure the stone, I warrant; doubt it not.—
Master Lieutenant, what news of my Lord of Rochester?
LIEUTENANT.
Yesterday morning was he put to death.
MORE.
The peace of soul sleep with him!
He was a learned and a reverend prelate,
And a rich man, believe me.
LIEUTENANT.
If he were rich, what is Sir Thomas More,
That all this while hath been Lord Chancellor?
MORE.
Say ye so, Master Lieutenant? what do ye think
A man, that with my time had held my place,
Might purchase?
LIEUTENANT.
Perhaps, my lord, two thousand pound a year.
MORE.
Master Lieutenant, I protest to you,
I never had the means in all my life
To purchase one poor hundred pound a year:
I think I am the poorest Chancellor
That ever was in England, though I could wish,
For credit of the place, that my estate were better.
LIEUTENANT.
It’s very strange.
MORE.
It will be found as true.
I think, sir, that with most part of my coin
I have purchased as strange commodities
As ever you heard tell of in your life.
LIEUTENANT.
Commodities, my lord!
Might I (without offence) enquire of them?
MORE.
Croutches, Master Lieutenant, and bare cloaks;
For halting soldiers and poor needy scholars
Have had my gettings in the Chancery:
To think but what a cheat the crown shall have
By my attainder! I prithee, if thou beest a gentleman,
Get but a copy of my inventory.
That part of poet that was given me
Made me a very unthrift;
For this is the disease attends us all,
Poets were never thrifty, never shall.
[Enter Lady More mourning, Daughters, Master Roper.]
LIEUTENANT.
Oh, noble More!—
My lord, your wife, your son-in-law, and daughters.
MORE.
Son Roper, welcome;—welcome, wife, and girls.
Why do you weep? because I live at ease?
Did you not see, when I was Chancellor,
I was so clogged with suitors every hour,
I could not sleep, nor dine, nor sup in quiet?
Here’s none of this; here I can sit and talk
With my honest keeper half a day together,
Laugh and be merry: why, then, should you weep?
ROPER.
These tears, my lord, for this your long restraint
Hope had dried up, with comfort that we yet,
Although imprisoned, might have had your life.
MORE.
To live in prison, what a life were that!
The king (I thank him) loves me more then so.
Tomorrow I shall be at liberty
To go even whether I can,
After I have dispatched my business.
LADY MORE.
Ah, husband, husband, yet submit yourself!
Have care of your poor wife and children.
MORE.
Wife, so I have; and I do leave you all
To his protection hath the power to keep you
Safer than I can,—
The father of the widow and the orphans.
ROPER.
The world, my lord, hath ever held you wise;
And ’t shall be no distaste unto your wisdom,
To yield to the opinion of the state.
MORE.
I have deceived myself, I must acknowledge;
And, as you say, son Roper, to confess the same,
It will be no disparagement at all.
LADY MORE.
His highness shall be certified thereof
Immediately.
[Offering to depart.]
MORE.
Nay, hear me, wife; first let me tell ye how:
I thought to have had a barber for my beard;
Now, I remember, that were labour lost,
The headsman now shall cut off head and all.
ROPER’S WIFE.
Father, his majesty, upon your meek submission,
Will yet (they say) receive you to his grace
In as great credit as you were before.
MORE.
........
Has appointed me to do a little business.
If that were past, my girl, thou then shouldst see
What I would say to him about that matter;
But I shall be so busy until then,
I shall not tend it.
DAUGHTER.
Ah, my dear father!
LADY MORE.
Dear lord and husband!
MORE.
Be comforted, good wife, to live and love my children;
For with thee leave I all my care of them.—
Son Roper, for my sake that have loved thee well,
And for her virtue’s sake, cherish my child.—
Girl, be not proud, but of thy husband’s love;
Ever retain thy virtuous modesty;
That modesty is such a comely garment
As it is never out of fashion, sits as fair
upon the meaner woman as the empress;
No stuff that gold can buy is half so rich,
Nor ornament that so becomes a woman.
Live all and love together, and thereby
You give your father a rich obsequy.
BOTH DAUGHTERS.
Your blessing, dear father.
MORE.
I must be gone—God bless you!—
To talk with God, who now doth call.
LADY MORE.
Aye, my dear husband!
MORE.
Sweet wife, good night, good night:
God send us all his everlasting light!
ROPER.
I think, before this hour,
More heavy hearts ne’er parted in the Tower.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE IV. Tower Hill.
[Enter the Sheriffs of London and their Officers at one door, the
Warders with their halbards at another.]
SECOND SHERIFF.
Officers, what time of day ist?
OFFICER.
Almost eight o’clock.
SECOND SHERIFF.
We must make haste then, least we stay too long.
SECOND WARDER.
Good morrow, Master Shrieves of London; Master Lieutenant
Wills ye repair to the limits of the Tower,
There to receive your prisoner.
FIRST SHERIFF.
Go back, and tell his worship we are ready.
SECOND SHERIFF.
Go bid the officers make clear the way,
There may be passage for the prisoner.
[Enter Lieutenant and his Guard, with More.]
MORE.
Yet, God be thanked, here’s a fair day toward,
To take our journey in. Master Lieutenant,
It were fair walking on the Tower leads.
LIEUTENANT.
And so it might have liked my sovereign lord,
I would to God you might have walked there still!
[He weeps.]
MORE.
Sir, we are walking to a better place.
Oh, sir, your kind and loving tears
Are like sweet odors to embalm your friend!
Thank your good lady; since I was your guest,
She has made me a very wanton, in good sooth.
LIEUTENANT.
Oh, I had hoped we should not yet have parted!
MORE.
But I must leave ye for a little while;
Within an hour or two you may look for me;
But there will be so many come to see me,
That I shall be so proud, I will not speak;
And, sure, my memory is grown so ill,
I fear I shall forget my head behind me.
LIEUTENANT.
God and his blessed angels be about ye!—
Here, Master Shrieves, receive your prisoner.
MORE.
Good morrow, Master Shrieves of London, to ye both:
I thank ye that ye will vouchsafe to meet me;
I see by this you have not quite forgot
That I was in times past, as you are now,
A sheriff of London.
SECOND SHERIFF.
Sir, then you know our duty doth require it.
MORE.
I know it well, sir, else I would have been glad
You might have saved a labour at this time.
Ah, Master Sheriff, you and I have been of old acquaintance! you
were a patient auditor of mine, when I read the divinity lecture at
St. Lawrence’s.
SECOND SHERIFF.
Sir Thomas More, I have heard you oft,
As many other did, to our great comfort.
MORE.
Pray God, you may so now, with all my heart!
And, as I call to mind,
When I studied the law in Lincoln’s Inn,
I was of council with ye in a cause.
SECOND SHERIFF.
I was about to say so, good Sir Thomas......
MORE.
Oh, is this the place?
I promise ye, it is a goodly scaffold:
In sooth, I am come about a headless errand,
For I have not much to say, now I am here.
Well, let’s ascend, a God’s name:
In troth, methinks, your stair is somewhat weak;
I prithee, honest friend, lend me thy hand
To help me up; as for my coming down,
Let me alone, I’ll look to that myself.
[As he is going up the stairs, enters the Earls of Surrey and
Shrewsbury.]
My Lords of Surrey and Shrewsbury, give me your hands. Yet
before we....ye see, though it pleaseth the king to raise me thus
high, yet I am not proud, for the higher I mount, the better I can see
my friends about me. I am now on a far voyage, and this strange
wooden horse must bear me thither; yet I perceive by your looks
you like my bargain so ill, that there’s not one of ye all dare enter
with me. Truly, here’s a most sweet gallery; [Walking.] I like the
air of it better than my garden at Chelsea. By your patience, good
people, that have pressed thus into my bedchamber, if you’ll not
trouble me, I’ll take a sound sleep here.
SHREWSBURY.
My lord, twere good you’ld publish to the world
Your great offence unto his majesty.
MORE.
My lord, I’ll bequeath this legacy to the hangman, [Gives him his
gown.] and do it instantly. I confess, his majesty hath been ever
good to me; and my offence to his highness makes me of a state
pleader a stage player (though I am old, and have a bad voice), to
act this last scene of my tragedy. I’ll send him (for my trespass) a
reverend head, somewhat bald; for it is not requisite any head
should stand covered to so high majesty: if that content him not,
because I think my body will then do me small pleasure, let him
but bury it, and take it.
SURREY.
My lord, my lord, hold conference with your soul;
You see, my lord, the time of life is short.
MORE.
I see it, my good lord; I dispatched that business the last night. I
come hither only to be let blood; my doctor here tells me it is good
for the headache.
HANGMAN.
I beseech thee, my lord, forgive me!
MORE.
Forgive thee, honest fellow! why?
HANGMAN.
For your death, my lord.
MORE.
O, my death? I had rather it were in thy power to forgive me, for
thou hast the sharpest action against me; the law, my honest friend,
lies in thy hands now: here’s thy fee [His purse.]; and, my good
fellow, let my suit be dispatched presently; for tis all one pain, to
die a lingering death, and to live in the continual mill of a lawsuit.
But I can tell thee, my neck is so short, that, if thou shouldst
behead an hundred noblemen like myself, thou wouldst ne’er get
credit by it; therefore (look ye, sir), do it handsomely, or, of my
word, thou shalt never deal with me hereafter.
HANGMAN.
I’ll take an order for that, my lord.
MORE.
One thing more; take heed thou cutst not off my beard: oh, I
forgot; execution passed upon that last night, and the body of it lies
buried in the Tower.—Stay; ist not possible to make a scape from
all this strong guard? it is.
There is a thing within me, that will raise
And elevate my better part bove sight
Of these same weaker eyes; and, Master Shrieves,
For all this troop of steel that tends my death,
I shall break from you, and fly up to heaven.
Let’s seek the means for this.
HANGMAN.
My lord, I pray ye, put off your doublet.
MORE.
Speak not so coldly to me; I am hoarse already;
I would be loathe, good fellow, to take more.
Point me the block; I ne’er was here before.
HANGMAN.
To the east side, my lord.
MORE.
Then to the east
We go to sigh; that o’er, to sleep in rest.
Here More forsakes all mirth; good reason why;
The fool of flesh must with her frail life die.
No eye salute my trunk with a sad tear:
Our birth to heaven should be thus, void of fear.
[Exit with Hangman, etc.]
SURREY.
A very learned worthy gentleman
Seals error with his blood. Come, we’ll to court.
Let’s sadly hence to perfect unknown fates,
Whilst he tends prograce to the state of states.
FINIS