[PLAYER of INCLINATION] And many such rewards would make us all ride, and horse us with the best nags in Smithfield.⌈Exeunt⌉
[Addition VI (Heywood)]
[Original Text (Munday)]
Sc. 10 Enter the Earls of Shrewsbury, Surrey, Bishop of Rochester, and other lords, [attended,] severally, doing courtesy to each other, Clerk of the Council waiting bare-headed
SURREY
Good morrow to my lord of Shrewsbury.
SHREWSBURY
The like unto the honoured Earl of Surrey.
Yon comes my lord of Rochester.
ROCHESTER
Good morrow, my good lords.
SURREY
Clerk of the Council,
What time is’t of day?
CLERK
Past eight of clock, my lord.
SHREWSBURY
I wonder that my good Lord Chancellor
Doth stay so long, considering there’s matters
Of high importance to be scanned upon.
SURREY
Clerk of the Council, certify his lordship
The lords expect him here.
ROCHESTER
It shall not need.
Yon comes his lordship.
Enter Sir Thomas More, with purse and mace borne
before him
MORE
Good morrow to this fair assembly.
Come, my good lords, let’s sit.
They sit
O serious square!
Upon this little board is daily scanned
The health and preservation of the land,
We the physicians that effect this good,
Now by choice diet, anon by letting blood.
Our toil and careful watching brings the King
In league with slumbers, to which peace doth sing.—
Avoid the room there!—
What business, lords, today?
SHREWSBURY
This, my good lord:
About the entertainment of the Emperor
’Gainst the perfidious French into our pay.
SURREY
My lords, as‘tis the custom in this place
The youngest should speak first, so if I chance
In this case to speak youngly, pardon me.
I will agree France now hath her full strength,
As having new recovered the pale blood
Which war sluiced forth; and I consent to this:
That the conjunction of our English forces
With arms of Germany may sooner bring
This prize of conquest in. But then, my lords,
As in the moral hunting ’twixt the lion
And other beasts force joined 〈 〉
Frighted the weaker sharers from their parts,
So, if the Empire’s sovereign chance to put
His plea of partnership into war’s court,
Swords should decide the difference, and our blood
In private tears lament his entertainment.
SHREWSBURY
To doubt the worst is still the wise man’s shield
That arms him safely, but the world knows this:
The Emperor is a man of royal faith.
His love unto our sovereign brings him down
From his imperial seat, to march in pay
Under our English flag, and wear the cross
Like some high order on his manly breast.
Thus serving, he’s not master of himself,
But, like a colonel, commanding other,
Is by the general overawed himself.
ROCHESTER
Yet, my good lord—
SHREWSBURY
Let me conclude my speech.
As subjects share no portion in the conquest
Of their true sovereign other than the merit
That from the sovereign guerdons the true subject,
So the good Emperor in a friendly league
Of amity with England will not soil
His honour with the theft of English spoil.
MORE
There is no question but this entertainment
Will be most honourable, most commodious.
I have oft heard good captains wish to have
Rich soldiers to attend them, such as would fight
Both for their lives and livings. Such a one
Is the good Emperor. I would to God
We had ten thousand of such able men.
Ha, then there would appear no court, no city,
But, where the wars were, they would pay
themselves.
Then, to prevent in French wars England’s loss,
Let German flags wave with our English cross.
Enter Sir Thomas Palmer
PALMER
My lords, his majesty hath sent by me
These articles enclosed, first to be viewed,
And then to be subscribed to. (With great reverence) I
tender them
In that due reverence which befits this place.
MORE
Subscribe these articles? Stay, let us pause.
Our conscience first shall parley with our laws.
My lord of Rochester, view you the paper.
ROCHESTER
Subscribe to these? Now good Sir Thomas Palmer,
Beseech the King that he will pardon me.
My heart will check my hand whilst I do write.
Subscribing so, I were an hypocrite.
PALMER
Do you refuse it then, my lord?
ROCHESTER
I do, Sir Thomas.
PALMER
Then here I summon you forthwith t’appear
Before his majesty, to answer there
This capital contempt.
ROCHESTER I rise, and part,
In lieu of this, to tender him my heart. He riseth
PALMER
Will’t please your honour to subscribe, my lord?
MORE
Sir, tell his highness, I entreat
Some time for to bethink me of this task.
In the meanwhile, I do resign mine office
Into my sovereign’s hands. All alter
PALMER
Then, my lord,
Hear the prepared order from the King.
On your refusal you shall straight depart
Unto your house at Chelsea, till you know
Our sovereign’s further pleasure.
MORE Most willingly I go.
My lords, if you will visit me at Chelsea
We’ll go a-fishing, and with a cunning net,
Not like weak film, we’ll catch none but the great.
Farewell, my noble lords. Why, this is right:
Good morrow to the sun, to state good night.
Exit
PALMER
Will you subscribe, my lords?
SURREY
Instantly, good Sir Thomas.
They write
We’ll bring the writing unto our sovereign.
PALMER My lord of Rochester,
You must with me, to answer this contempt.
ROCHESTER This is the worst.
Who’s freed from life is from all care exempt.
Exeunt Rochester and Palmer
SURREY
Now let us hasten to our sovereign.
’Tis strange that my Lord Chancellor should refuse
The duty that the law of God bequeaths
Unto the king.
SHREWSBURY
Come, let us in. No doubt
His mind will alter, and the Bishop’s too.
Error in learnèd heads hath much to do.
[Exeunt]
Sc. 11 Enter the Lady More, her two Daughters, [one of them Roper’s Wife,] and Master Roper, as walking
ROPER
Madam, what ails ye for to look so sad?
LADY MORE
Troth, son, I know not what. I am not sick,
And yet I am not well. I would be merry,
But somewhat lies so heavy on my heart
I cannot choose but sigh. You are a scholar.
I pray ye tell me, may one credit dreams?
ROPER
Why ask you that, dear madam?
LADY MORE
Because tonight I had the strangest dream
That e‘er my sleep was troubled with.
Methought ’twas night,
And that the King and Queen went on the Thames
In barges to hear music. My lord and I
Were in a little boat, methought—Lord, Lord,
What strange things live in slumbers!—and being near,
We grappled to the barge that bare the King;
But after many pleasing voices spent
In that still-moving music house, methought
The violence of the stream did sever us
Quite from the golden fleet and hurried us
Unto the Bridge which, with unused horror,
We entered at full tide; thence some flight shoot
Being carried by the waves, our boat stood still
Just opposite the Tower; and there it turned
And turned about, as when a whirlpool sucks
The circled waters. Methought that we both cried,
Till that we sunk, where arm in arm we died.
ROPER
Give no respect, dear madam, to fond dreams.
They are but slight illusions of the blood.
LADY MORE
Tell me not all are so, for often dreams
Are true diviners, either of good or ill.
I cannot be in quiet till I hear
How my lord fares.
ROPER (aside)
Nor I.—Come hither, wife.
I will not fright thy mother to interpret
The nature of a dream; but, trust me, sweet,
This night I have been troubled with thy father
Beyond all thought.
ROPER’S WIFE [aside to Roper] Truly, and so have I.
Methought I saw him here in Chelsea church,
Standing upon the rood-loft, now defaced;
And whilst he kneeled and prayed before the image
It fell with him into the upper choir,
Where my poor father lay all stained in blood.
ROPER [aside to his Wife]
Our dreams all meet in one conclusion,
Fatal, I fear.
LADY MORE
What’s that you talk? I pray ye let me know it.
ROPER’S WIFE Nothing, good mother.
LADY MORE
This is your fashion still: I must know nothing.
Call Master Catesby; he shall straight to court
And see how my lord does. I shall not rest
Until my heart lean panting on his breast.
Enter Sir Thomas More, merrily, servants attending
MORE’S OTHER DAUGHTER
See where my father comes, joyful and merry.
MORE
As seamen, having passed a troubled storm,
Dance on the pleasant shore, so I—O, I could speak
Now like a poet! Now, afore God, I am passing light.
Wife, give me kind welcome.
[He kisses her]
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
[To Daughters] God bless ye.—Son Roper, give me your
hand.
ROPER
Your honour’s welcome home.
MORE Honour? Ha, ha!
And how dost, wife?
ROPER [aside] 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 honour ne’er will leave these jests!
In faith, it ill becomes ye.
MORE O good wife,
Honour 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 O God!
MORE
Come, breed not female children in your eyes.
The King will have it so.
LADY MORE
What’s the offence?
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 honoured father.
MORE O son Roper,
Ubi turpis est medicina, sanari piget.
No, wife, be merry, and be merry all.
You smiled at rising; weep not at my fall.
Let’s in, and here joy like to private friends,
Since days of pleasure have repentant ends.
The light of greatness is with triumph borne;
It sets at midday oft, with public scorn. Exeunt
Sc. 12 Enter the Bishop of Rochester, Surrey, Shrewsbury, Lieutenant of the Tower, and warders with weapons
ROCHESTER
Your kind persuasions, honourable 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 [to Rochester]
No doubt your fatherhood will by yourself
Consider better of the present case,
And grow as great in favour as before.
ROCHESTER
For that, as pleaseth God, in my restraint
From worldly 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 honours,
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
or your release, and labour’t as we may.
SHREWSBURY [to Rochester]
Thereof assure yourself. So do we leave ye,
And to your happy private thoughts bequeath ye.
Exeunt Lords
ROCHESTER
Now, Master Lieutenant, on; i’ God’s name, go;
And with as glad a mind go I with you
As ever truant bade the school adieu.
Exeunt
Sc. 13 Enter Sir Thomas More, his Lady, Daughters, ⌈one of them Roper’s Wife,⌉ Master Roper, Gentlemen and Servants ⌈amongst them Catesby and Gough⌉ as in his house at Chelsea. Low stools
MORE
Good morrow, good son Roper. [To Lady More] Sit, good
madam,
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 honour.
MORE
Nay, good night rather.
Your honour’s crest-fall’n with your happy father.
ROPER
O, 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, here’s not so,
Nor does the wanton tongue here screw itself
Into the ear, that like a vice 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 time’s new navigation—we have sailed
Beyond our course.
MORE
Have done.
LADY MORE
We are exiled the court.
MORE Still thou harp’st on that.
‘Tis sin for to deserve that banishment;
But he that ne’er knew court courts sweet content.
LADY MORE
O, 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 stilt—or, credit me,
Thou shalt not understand a word we speak.
We’ll talk in Latin.
[To Roper] Humida vallis raros patitur fulminis ictus.
More rest enjoys the subject meanly bred
Than he that bears the kingdom in his head.
ROPER
Great men are still musicians, else the world lies:
They learn low strains after the notes that rise.
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
The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works Page 270
