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.
Who prates not much seems wise, his wit few scan,
While the tongue blabs tales of the imperfect man.
I’ll see if great Erasmus can distinguish
Merit and outward ceremony.
RANDALL If I do not deserve a share for playing of your lordship well, let me be yeoman usher to your sumpter and be banished from wearing of a gold chain forever.
MORE
Well, sir, I’ll hide our motion. Act my part
With a firm boldness, and thou winn’st my heart.
Enter the Sheriff, with Falkner (a ruffian) and Officers
How now, what’s the matter?
FALKNER ⌈to Officers⌉ Tug me not; I’m no bear. ‘Sblood, if all the dogs in Paris Garden hung at my tail, I’d shake ’em off with this: that I’ll appear before no king christened but my good Lord Chancellor.
SHERIFF We’ll christen you, sirrah.—Bring him forward.
MORE ⌈to Falkner⌉ How now, what tumults make you?
FALKNER The azured heavens protect my noble Lord Chancellor!
MORE ⌈to Sheriff⌉ What fellow’s this?
SHERIFF A ruffian, my lord, that hath set half the city in an uproar.
FALKNER My lord—
SHERIFF There was a fray in Paternoster Row, and because they would not be parted the street was choked up with carts.
FALKNER My noble lord, Pannyer Alley’s throat was open.
MORE Sirrah, hold your peace.
FALKNER I’ll prove the street was not choked, but is as well as ever it was since it was a street.
SHERIFF This fellow was a principal broacher of the broil—
FALKNER ’Sblood, I broached none. It was broached and half run out before I had a lick at it.
SHERIFF And would be brought before no justice but your honour.
FALKNER ! I am hauled, my noble lord.
MORE ⌈to Sheriff⌉
No ear to choose for every trivial noise
But mine, and in so full a time? Away.
You wrong me, Master Sheriff. Dispose of him
At your own pleasure. Send the knave to Newgate.
FALKNER To Newgate? ’Sblood, Sir Thomas More, I appeal, I appeal: from Newgate to any of the two worshipful Counters.
MORE
Fellow, whose man are you that are thus lusty?
FALKNER My name’s Jack Falkner. I serve, next under God and my prince, Master Morris, secretary to my lord of Winchester.
MORE
A fellow of your hair is very fit
To be a secretary’s follower!
FALKNER I hope so, my lord. The fray was between the Bishop’s men of Ely and Winchester, and I could not in honour but part them. I thought it stood not with my reputation and degree to come to my questions and answers before a city justice. I knew I should to the pot.
MORE Thou hast been there, it seems, too late already.
FALKNER I know your honour is wise, and so forth, and I desire to be only catechized or examined by you, my noble Lord Chancellor.
MORE Sirrah, sirrah, you are a busy dangerous ruffian. FALKNER Ruffian?
MORE How long have you worn this hair?
FALKNER I have worn this hair ever since I was born.
MORE
You know that’s not my question: but how long
Hath this shag fleece hung dangling on thy head?
FALKNER How long, my lord? Why, sometimes thus long, sometimes lower, as the Fates and humours please.
MORE
So quick, sir, with me, ha? I see, good fellow,
Thou lovest plain dealing. Sirrah, tell me now
When were you last at barber’s? How long time
Have you upon your head worn this shag hair?
FALKNER My lord, Jack Falkner tells no Aesop’s fables. Troth, I was not at barber’s this three years. I have not been cut, nor will not be cut, upon a foolish vow which, as the Destinies shall direct, I am sworn to keep.