The Complete Works of William Shakespeare - Israel Gollancz William Shakespeare [1956]
Until my heart leave panting on his breast.
[Enter Sir Thomas More merrily, Servants attending.]
DAUGHTER.
See where my father comes, joyful and merry.
MORE.
As seamen, having passed a troubled storm,
Dance on the pleasant shore; so I—oh, I could speak
Now like a poet! now, afore God, I am passing light!—
Wife, give me kind welcome: thou wast wont to blame
My kissing when my beard was in the stubble;
But I have been trimmed of late; I have had
A smooth court shaving, in good faith, I have.—
[Daughters kneel.]
God bless ye!—Son Roper, give me your hand.
ROPER.
Your honor's welcome home.
MORE.
Honor! ha ha!—And how dost, wife?
ROPER.
He bears himself most strangely.
LADY MORE.
Will your lordship in?
MORE.
Lordship! no, wife, that's gone:
The ground was slight that we did lean upon.
LADY MORE.
Lord, that your honor ne'er will leave these jests!
In faith, it ill becomes ye.
MORE.
Oh, good wife,
Honor and jests are both together fled;
The merriest councillor of England's dead.
LADY MORE.
Who's that, my lord?
MORE.
Still lord! the Lord Chancellor, wife.
LADY MORE.
That's you.
MORE.
Certain; but I have changed my life.
Am I not leaner than I was before?
The fat is gone; my title's only More.
Contented with one style, I'll live at rest:
They that have many names are not still best.
I have resigned mine office: count'st me not wise?
LADY MORE.
Oh God!
MORE.
Come, breed not female children in your eyes:
The king will have it so.
LADY MORE.
What's the offense?
MORE.
Tush, let that pass; we'll talk of that anon.
The king seems a physician to my fate;
His princely mind would train me back to state.
ROPER.
Then be his patient, my most honored father.
MORE.
Oh, son Roper,
Ubi turpis est medicine, sanari piget!—
No, wife, be merry;—and be merry, all:
You smiled at rising, weep not at my fall.
Let's in, and hear joy like to private friends,
Since days of pleasure have repentant ends:
The light of greatness is with triumph born;
It sets at midday oft with public scorn.
SCENE IV. The Tower.
[Enter the Bishop of Rochester, Surrey, Shrewsbury, Lieutenant of the Tower, and Warders with weapons.]
ROCHESTER.
Your kind persuasions, honorable lords,
I can but thank ye for; but in this breast
There lives a soul that aims at higher things
Than temporary pleasing earthly kings.
God bless his highness even with all my heart!—
We shall meet one day, though that now we part.
SURREY.
We not misdoubt, your wisdom can discern
What best befits it; yet in love and zeal
We could entreat, it might be otherwise.
SHREWSBURY.
No doubt, your fatherhood will by yourself
Consider better of the present case,
And grow as great in favor as before.
ROCHESTER.
For that, as pleaseth God. In my restraint
From wordly causes, I shall better see
Into myself than at proud liberty:
The Tower and I will privately confer
Of things, wherein at freedom I may err.
But I am troublesome unto your honors,
And hold ye longer than becomes my duty.—
Master Lieutenant, I am now your charge;
And though you keep my body, yet my love
Waits on my king and you, while Fisher lives.
SURREY.
Farewell, my Lord of Rochester; we'll pray
For your release, and labour't as we may.
SHREWSBURY.
Thereof assure yourself; so do we leave ye,
And to your happy private thoughts bequeath ye.
[Exeunt Lords.]
ROCHESTER.
Now, Master Lieutenant, on; a God's name, go!
And with as glad a mind go I with you
As ever truant bade the school adieu.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE V. Chelsea. A Room in More's House.
[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,