CATESBY. Take it as it is meant, a kind remembrance Of a fair kinder lord, with whose sad fall He gives up house and farewell to us all: Thus the fair spreading oak falls not alone, But all the neighbor plants and under-trees Are crushed down with his weight. No more of this: Come, and receive your due, and after go Fellow-like hence, copartners of one woe.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE III. The Tower.
[Enter Sir Thomas More, the Lieutenant, and a Servant attending, as in his chamber in the Tower.]
MORE. Master Lieutenant, is the warrant come? If it be so, a God's name, let us know it.
LIEUTENANT. My lord, it is.
MORE. Tis welcome, sir, to me with all my heart; His blessed will be done!
LIEUTENANT. Your wisdom, sir, hath been so well approved, And your fair patience in imprisonment Hath ever shewn such constancy of mind And Christian resolution in all troubles, As warrant us you are not unprepared.
MORE. No, Master Lieutenant; I thank my God, I have peace of conscience, Though the world and I are at a little odds: But we'll be even now, I hope, ere long. When is the execution of your warrant?
LIEUTENANT. Tomorrow morning.
MORE. So, sir, I thank ye; I have not lived so ill, I fear to die. Master Lieutenant, I have had a sore fit of the stone tonight; but the king hath sent me such a rare receipt, I thank him, as I shall not need to fear it much.
LIEUTENANT. In life and death still merry Sir Thomas More.
MORE. Sirrah fellow, reach me the urinal:
[He gives it him.]
Ha! let me see (there's) gravel in the water; (And yet I see no grave danger in that) The man were likely to live long enough, So pleased the king.--Here, fellow, take it.
SERVANT. Shall I go with it to the doctor, sir?
MORE. No, save thy labour; we'll cossen him of a fee: Thou shalt see me take a dram tomorrow morning, Shall cure the stone, I warrant; doubt it not.-- Master Lieutenant, what news of my Lord of Rochester?
LIEUTENANT. Yesterday morning was he put to death.
MORE. The peace of soul sleep with him! He was a learned and a reverend prelate, And a rich man, believe me.
LIEUTENANT. If he were rich, what is Sir Thomas More, That all this while hath been Lord Chancellor?
MORE. Say ye so, Master Lieutenant? what do ye think A man, that with my time had held my place, Might purchase?
LIEUTENANT. Perhaps, my lord, two thousand pound a year.
MORE. Master Lieutenant, I protest to you, I never had the means in all my life To purchase one poor hundred pound a year: I think I am the poorest Chancellor That ever was in England, though I could wish, For credit of the place, that my estate were better.
LIEUTENANT. It's very strange.
MORE. It will be found as true. I think, sir, that with most part of my coin I have purchased as strange commodities As ever you heard tell of in your life.
LIEUTENANT. Commodities, my lord! Might I (without offence) enquire of them?
MORE. Croutches, Master Lieutenant, and bare cloaks; For halting soldiers and poor needy scholars Have had my gettings in the Chancery: To think but what a cheat the crown shall have By my attainder! I prithee, if thou beest a gentleman, Get but a copy of my inventory. That part of poet that was given me Made me a very unthrift; For this is the disease attends us all, Poets were never thrifty, never shall.
[Enter Lady More mourning, Daughters, Master Roper.]
LIEUTENANT. Oh, noble More!-- My lord, your wife, your son-in-law, and daughters.
MORE. Son Roper, welcome;--welcome, wife, and girls. Why do you weep? because I live at ease? Did you not see, when I was Chancellor, I was so clogged with suitors every hour, I could not sleep, nor dine, nor sup in quiet? Here's none of this; here I can sit and talk With my honest keeper half a day together, Laugh and be merry: why, then, should you weep?
ROPER. These tears, my lord, for this your long restraint Hope had dried up, with comfort that we yet, Although imprisoned, might have had your life.
MORE. To live in prison, what a life were that! The king (I thank him) loves me more then so. Tomorrow I shall be at liberty To go even whether I can, After I have dispatched my business.