The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works

by William Shakespeare

  Withal, Sheriff More, I’ll tell him how your breath

  Hath ransomed many a subject from sad death. Exit

  LORD MAYOR

  Lincoln and Sherwin, you shall both to Newgate,

  The rest unto the Counters.

  PALMER

  Go, guard them hence. A little breath well spent

  Cheats expectation in his fair’st event.

  DOLL Well, Sheriff More, thou hast done more with thy good words than all they could with their weapons. Give me thy hand. Keep thy promise now for the King’s pardon, or, by the Lord, I’ll call thee a plain cony-catcher.

  LINCOLN

  Farewell, Sheriff More. And as we yield by thee

  So make our peace; then thou deal’st honestly.

  CLOWN BETTS Ay, and save us from the gallows, else a deals double honestly.

  [The Citizens] are led away

  LORD MAYOR

  Master Sheriff More, you have preserved the city

  From a most dangerous fierce commotion.

  For if this limb of riot here in St Martin’s

  Had joined with other branches of the city

  That did begin to kindle, ’twould have bred

  Great rage. That rage much murder would have fed.

  PALMER

  Not steel but eloquence hath wrought this good.

  You have redeemed us from much threatened blood.

  MORE

  My lord, and brethren, what I here have spoke

  My country’s love and, next, the city’s care

  Enjoined me to; which since it thus prevails,

  Think God hath made weak More His instrument

  To thwart sedition’s violent intent.

  I think ’twere best, my lord, some two hours hence

  We meet at the Guildhall, and there determine

  That thorough every ward the watch be clad

  In armour. But especially provide

  That at the city gates selected men,

  Substantial citizens, do ward tonight,

  For fear of further mischief.

  LORD MAYOR It shall be so.

  Enter Shrewsbury

  But yon, methinks, my lord of Shrewsbury.

  SHREWSBURY

  My lord, his majesty sends loving thanks

  To you, your brethren, and his faithful subjects

  Your careful citizens. But Master More, to you

  A rougher yet as kind a salutation.

  Your name is yet too short. Nay, you must kneel.

  A knight’s creation is this knightly steel.

  ⌈More kneels⌉

  Rise up Sir Thomas More.

  ⌈He knights More⌉

  MORE ⌈rising⌉

  I thank his highness for thus honouring me.

  SHREWSBURY

  This is but first taste of his princely favour,

  For it hath pleased his high majesty,

  Noting your wisdom and deserving merit,

  To put this staff of honour in your hand,

  For he hath chose you of his Privy Council.

  ⌈He gives More a staff of office⌉

  MORE

  My lord, for to deny my sovereign’s bounty

  Were to drop precious stones into the heaps

  Whence first they came.

  To urge my imperfections in excuse

  Were all as stale as custom. No, my lord,

  My service is my king’s. Good reason why,

  Since life or death hangs on our sovereign’s eye.

  LORD MAYOR

  His majesty hath honoured much the city

  In this his princely choice.

  MORE My lord and brethren,

  Though I depart for court, my love shall rest

  〈 〉

  I now must sleep in court, sound sleeps forbear.

  The chamberlain to state is public care.

  Yet in this rising of my private blood

  My studious thoughts shall tend the city’s good.

  Enter Croft

  Enter Crofts

  SHREWSBURY

  How now, Crofts? What news?

  CROFTS

  My lord, his highness sends express command

  That a record be entered of this riot,

  And that the chief and capital offenders

  Be thereon straight arraigned; for himself intends

  To sit in person on the rest tomorrow

  At Westminster.

  SHREWSBURY

  Lord Mayor, you hear your charge.

  Come, good Sir Thomas More, to court let’s hie.

  You are th’appeaser of this mutiny.

  MORE

  My lord, farewell. New days begets new tides.

  Life whirls ’bout fate, then to a grave it slides.

  Exeunt severally

  Sc. 7 Enter Master Sheriff, and meet a Messenger

  SHERIFF

  Messenger, what news?

  MESSENGER Is execution yet performed?

  SHERIFF

  Not yet. The carts stand ready at the stairs,

  And they shall presently away to Tyburn.

  MESSENGER

  Stay, Master Sheriff. It is the Council’s pleasure,

  For more example in so bad a case,

  A gibbet be erected in Cheapside

  Hard by the Standard, whither you must bring

  Lincoln, and those that were the chief with him,

  To suffer death, and that immediately.

  Enter Officers

  SHERIFF

  It shall be done, sir. Exit Messenger

  Officers, be speedy.

  Call for a gibbet, see it be erected.

  Others make haste to Newgate; bid them bring

  The prisoners hither, for they here must die.

  Away, I say, and see no time be slacked.

  OFFICERS We go, sir.

  SHERIFF That’s well said, fellows. Now you do your duty. Exeunt some ⌈Officers⌉ severally. Others set up the gibbet

  God for his pity help these troublous times!

  The street’s stopped up with gazing multitudes.

  Command our armed officers with halberds

  Make way for entrance of the prisoners.

  Let proclamation once again be made

  That every householder, on pain of death,

  Keep in his prentices, and every man

  Stand with a weapon ready at his door,

  As he will answer to the contrary.

  FIRST OFFICER I’ll see it done, sir. Exit

  Enter another Offices

  SHERIFF

  Bring them away to execution.

  The writ is come above two hours since.

  The city will be fined for this neglect.

  SECOND OFFICER

  There’s such a press and multitude at Newgate

  They cannot bring the carts unto the stairs

  To take the prisoners in.

  SHERIFF Then let them come on foot.

  We may not dally time with great command.

  SECOND OFFICER

  Some of the Bench, sir, think it very fit

  That stay be made, and give it out abroad

  The execution is deferred till morning;

  And when the streets shall be a little cleared

  To chain them up, and suddenly dispatch it.

  The prisoners are brought in, ⌈amongst them Lincoln,

  Doll, Williamson, Clown Betts, and Sherwin,⌉ well

  guarded, ⌈and the Executioner⌉

  SHERIFF

  Stay, in meantime methinks they come along.

  See, they are coming. So, ’tis very well.

  Bring Lincoln there the first unto the tree.

  CLOWN BETTS Ay, for I cry lag, sir.

  LINCOLN

  I knew the first, sir, did belong to me.

  This the old proverb now complete doth make:

  That ‘Lincoln should be hanged for London’s sake’.

  I’ God’s name, let’s to work. ⌈To Executioner⌉ Fell
ow, dispatch.

  He goes up

  I was the foremost man in this rebellion,

  And I the foremost that must die for it.

  DOLL

  Bravely, John Lincoln, let thy death express

  That, as thou lived‘st a man, thou died’st no less.

  LINCOLN

  Doll Williamson, thine eyes shall witness it.

  Then to all you that come to view mine end

  I must confess I had no ill intent

  But against such as wronged us overmuch.

  And now I can perceive it was not fit

  That private men should carve out their redress

  Which way they list. No, learn it now by me:

  Obedience is the best in each degree.

  And, asking mercy meekly of my king,

  I patiently submit me to the law.

  But God forgive them that were cause of it;

  And, as a Christian, truly from my heart,

  I likewise crave they would forgive me too,

  〈 〉

  That others by example of the same

  Henceforth be warned to attempt the like

  ’Gainst any alien that repaireth hither.

  Fare ye well all. The next time that we meet

  I trust in heaven we shall each other greet. He leaps off

  DOLL

  Farewell, John Lincoln. Say all what they can,

  Thou lived‘st a good fellow, and died’st an honest man.

  CLOWN BETTS Would I were so far on my journey. The first stretch is the worst, methinks.

  SHERIFF Bring Williamson there forward.

  DOLL

  Good Master Sheriff, I have an earnest suit,

  And, as you are a man, deny’t me not.

  SHERIFF

  Woman, what is it? Be it in my power,

  Thou shalt obtain it.

  DOLL

  Let me die next, sir, that is all I crave.

  You know not what a comfort you shall bring

  To my poor heart to die before my husband.

  SHERIFF

  Bring her to death. She shall have her desire.

  CLOWN BETTS Sir, and I have a suit to you too.

  SHERIFF What is it?

  CLOWN BETTS That, as you have hanged Lincoln first and will hang her next, so you will not hang me at all.

  SHERIFF Nay, you set ope the Counter gates, and you must hang chiefly.

  CLOWN BETTS Well then, so much for that!

  DOLL ⌈to Sherif⌉

  Sir, your free bounty much contents my mind.

  Commend me to that good sheriff Master More,

  And tell him had’t not been for his persuasion

  John Lincoln had not hung here as he does.

  We would first have locked up in Leaden Hall,

  And there been burned to ashes with the roof.

  SHERIFF

  Woman, what Master More did was a subject’s duty,

  And hath so pleased our gracious lord the King

  That he is hence removed to higher place

  And made of Council to his majesty.

  DOLL

  Well is he worthy of it, by my troth:

  An honest, wise, well-spoken gentleman.

  Yet would I praise his honesty much more

  If he had kept his word and saved our lives.

  But let that pass. Men are but men, and so

  Words are but words, and pays not what men owe.

  Now, husband, since perhaps the world may say

  That through my means thou com’st thus to thy end,

  Here I begin this cup of death to thee,

  Because thou shalt be sure to taste no worse

  Than I have taken that must go before thee.

  What though I be a woman? That’s no matter.

  I do owe God a death, and I must pay him.

  Husband, give me thy hand. Be not dismayed.

  This chore being chored, then all our debt is paid.

  Only two little babes we leave behind us,

  And all I can bequeath them at this time

  Is but the love of some good honest friend

  To bring them up in charitable sort.

  What, masters?—He goes upright that never halts,

  And they may live to mend their parents’ faults.

  WILLIAMSON

  Why, well said, wife. I‘faith, thou cheer’st my heart.

  Give me thy hand. Let’s kiss, and so let’s part.

  He kisses her on the ladder

  DOLL

  The next kiss, Williamson, shall be in heaven.

  Now cheerly, lads! George Betts, a hand with thee.

  ⌈To Clown Betts⌉ And thine too, Ralph. And thine, good

  honest Sherwin.

  Now let me tell the women of this town

  No stranger yet brought Doll to lying down.

  So long as I an Englishman can see,

  Nor French nor Dutch shall get a kiss of me.

  And when that I am dead, for me yet say

  I died in scorn to be a stranger’s prey.

  A great shout and noise ⌈within⌉

  VOICES WITHIN Pardon, pardon, pardon, pardon!

  Room for the Earl of Surreyl Room there, room!

  Enter Surrey

  SURREY

  Save the man’s life, if it be possible!

  SHERIFF

  It is too late, my lord, he’s dead already.

  SURREY

  I tell ye, Master Sheriff, you are too forward

  To make such haste with men unto their death.

  I think your pains will merit little thanks,

  Since that his highness is so merciful

  As not to spill the blood of any subject.

  SHERIFF

  My noble lord, would we so much had known!

  The Council’s warrant hastened our dispatch.

  It had not else been done so suddenly.

  SURREY

  Sir Thomas More humbly upon his knee

  Did beg the lives of all, since on his word

  They did so gently yield. The King hath granted it,

  And made him Lord High Chancellor of England,

  According as he worthily deserves.

  Since Lincoln’s life cannot be had again,

  Then for the rest, from my dread sovereign’s lips,

  I here pronounce free pardon for them all—

  ALL (flinging up caps)

  God save the King! God save the King,

  My good Lord Chancellor and the Earl of Surreyl

  DOLL

  And Doll desires it from her very heart

  More’s name may live for this right noble part;

  And whensoe’er we talk of Ill May Day

  Praise More, whose honest words our falls did stay.

  SURREY

  In hope his highness’ clemency and mercy,

  Which in the arms of mild and meek compassion

  Would rather clip you, as the loving nurse

  Oft doth the wayward infant, than to leave you

  To the sharp rod of justice; so to draw you

  To shun such lewd assemblies as beget

  Unlawful riots and such traitorous acts

  That, striking with the hand of private hate,

  Maim your dear country with a public wound.

  O God, that mercy, whose majestic brow

  Should be unwrinkled, and that awe-full justice,

  Which looketh through a veil of sufferance

  Upon the frailty of the multitude,

  Should with the clamours of outrageous wrongs

  Be stirred and wakened thus to punishment!

  But your deserved death he doth forgive.

  Who gives you life, pray all he long may live.

  ALL

  God save the King! God save the King,

  My good Lord Chancellor, and the Earl of Surreyl

  Exeunt

  [Original Text (Munday)]

  [⌈Addition III (playhouse scribe; attributed to
Shakespeare)]

  Sc. 8 A table being covered with a green carpet, a state cushion on it, and the purse and mace lying thereon, enter More

  MORE

  It is in heaven that I am thus and thus,

  And that which we profanely term our fortunes

  Is the provision of the power above,

  Fitted and shaped just to that strength of nature

  Which we are born with. Good God, good God,

  That I from such an humble bench of birth

  Should step, as ’twere, up to my country’s head,

  And give the law out there; I, in my father’s life,

  To take prerogative and tithe of knees

  From elder kinsmen, and him bind by my place

  To give the smooth and dexter way to me

  That owe it him by nature: sure these things,

  Not physicked by respect, might turn our blood

  To much corruption. But, More, the more thou

  hast,

  Either of honour, office, wealth, and calling,

  Which might accite thee to embrace and hug them,

  The more do thou in serpent’s natures think them,

  Fear their gay skins with thought of their sharp state,

  And let this be thy maxim: to be great

  Is, when the thread of hazard is once spun,

  A bottom great wound up, greatly undone.

  [Addition III (playhouse scribe; attributed to Shakespeare)]

  [addition IV (playhouse scribe; attributed to Dekker)]

  Enter Sir Thomas More’s man ⌈Randall⌉, attired like him

  MORE Come on, sir, are you ready?

  RANDALL Yes, my lord. I stand but on a few points. I shall have done presently. Before God, I have practised your lordship’s shift so well that I think I shall grow proud, my lord.

  MORE

  ‘Tis fit thou shouldst wax proud, or else thou’lt ne‘er

  Be near allied to greatness. Observe me, sirrah.

  The learned clerk Erasmus is arrived

  Within our English court. Last night, I hear,

  He feasted with our English honoured poet

  The Earl of Surrey, and I learned today

  The famous clerk of Rotterdam will visit

  Sir Thomas More. Therefore, sir, take my seat.

  You are Lord Chancellor. Dress your behaviour

  According to my carriage. But beware

  You talk not overmuch, for ’twill betray thee.