Sir Thomas More [24]
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