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, 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.