The Mirrour of Vertue (original) (raw)

The mirrour of vertue in worldly greatnes; or the life of Syr T. More.

William Roper.

Note: this Renascence Editions text was transcribed by Risa S. Bear of the University of Oregon, January 2002, from the Paris duodecimo of 1626, STC 21316. Substantial differences may be found between this and other editions, as the work circulated in manuscript for many years. Any errors that have crept into the transcription are the fault of the present publisher. The text is in the public domain. Content unique to this presentation is copyright © 2002 The University of Oregon. For nonprofit and educational uses only. Send comments and corrections to the Publisher.

Dedicated to Ted Smith, Librarian.

THE MIRROVR
OF VERTVE
in Worldly Greatnes,

OR
THE LIFE OF SYR
Thomas More Knight,
sometime Lo. Chancellour
of England.

T O
T H E R I G H T
H O N O V R A B L E
T H E L A D Y
E L I Z A B E T H
C O V N T E S S E O F
B A M BV RY, &c.

IGHT Honourable, It vvas my good happe not longe since, in a Friends House, to light vpon a briefe History of the Life, Arraignement, and Death of that Mirrour of all true Honour, and Vertue _Syr Thomas More,_vvho by his Wisdome, Learning, & San[c]tity, hath eternized his Name, Cou[n]trey, & Profession, throughout the Christian World, vvith immortall Glory, and Renovvne.
Finding, by perusall therof, the same replenished vvith inco[m]parable Treasures, of no lesse Worthy, and most Christia[n] Factes, then of Wise, & Religious Sentences, Apophthegmes, & Sayings; I deemed it not only an errour to permit so great a light to ly buried, as it vvere, vvithin the vvalls of one priuate Family: but also iudged it vvorthy the Presse, eue[n] of a golden Character (if it were to be had) to the end, the vvhole World might receaue comfort and profit by reading the same.
Hauing made this Resolution, a Difficultie presented it selfe to my Thoughts, vnder vvhose Shadovv, or Patronage I might best shelter the Worke: vnto vvch strife, Your L A D I S H I P , occuring to my cogitations, put an end, vvith the _B E A M S_of your VV O R T H , & _H O N O V R;_so dazeling my eyes, as I could discerne none other more Fit, or VVorthy to imbrace, & protect so Glorious and Memorable Examples.
Of vvhose G O O D N E S I am so confide[n]t, that vvithout further debate, I iudge, this Enterchange of Friendshippe may worthily be made betvveene the S A I N T and Y O U. Y O U (Madame) shal Patronise his H O N O V R heere on Earth; and H E, shall become a Patrone, and intercessour for Y O U in heauen.

By him, that am your
Ladiships profes-
sed Seruant.

T.P.

T H E P R E F AC E
of the Authour.

FO R A S M VC H, as Syr Thomas More Knight, sometymes Lord Chancellour of England, a Man of singular Vertue, and of an vnspotted Conscience; & (as witnesseth Erasmus_) more pure, and white then snowe: of so Angelicall a Wit (sayth he) that England neuer had the like before, nor euer shall againe: A Man (I say) vniuersally well studied, not only in the Lawes of our owne Realme (a study able to occupy the whole life of a man) but also in all other Scie[n]ces both Humane & Divine; was in his owne dayes (& much more deseruedly in these) esteemed worthy of perpetuall Memory: I William Roper his most vnworthy Sonne in law (by Marriage of his eldest Daughter) knowing no man liuing to this day, able to speake more of his life and Conuersation, then my selfe who was continually resident in his House for the space of sixteene yeares and more; haue at the request of diuers worthy friends, put downe in wryting, such thinges, touching the same, as I can at this present well cast to remembrance (hauing through my negligence, forgotten many other very notable passages thereof) to the euent that all should not vtterly perish to posterity. The which I haue heere performed, to my ability, in a playne and humble style; leauing the same as a fit subiect to a more skillfull, and exquisite Pen, when Tyme, and Occasion shall offer themselues, to dilate therof._

T H E

L I F E O F

Syr Thomas More.

YR_Thomas More_ was borne in London of worshipfull Parents. His Father was a Student of Lincolnes Inne, and brought him vp in the Latin-tongue, at S. Antonyes Schoole in London, who was very shortly after, by his Fathers procurement, receiued into the house of that Worthy, and Learned Prelate, Cardinal Morton; where though he was but younge in yeares, he would in the tyme of Christmas, suddainly steppe in amongst the Players, and there ex tempore, without any study of the Matter, or least stay, or stammering in his speach, make a part of his owne present wit, amongst them: which was more delightfull, and pleasing to the Nobles, & Gentlemen that vsed to be at Supper with the Cardinall, then all the premeditated parts of the Players.
This Cardinall_tooke more delight in his wit, and towardnes, then he did of any other temporall Matter whatsoeuer; & would often say of him, vnto diuers of his familiar friends, who vsed dinner & supper with him: This Child here, wayting at the table, whosoeuer shall liue to see it, will proue a meruailous Man.
And for his better furtherance in learning, he placed him at Oxford; where when he was well instructed in the Greeke & Latyn tongues, he was then, for the Comon Lawes of the kingdome put to an Inne of Chancery, called New Inne; where in small tyme he profited so well, that he was from thence admitted into Lincolnes Inne, with very small allowance; continuing there his study, vntill he was made Barrister.
After this, to his high Commendations, he read for a good space, a publique Lecture of_S. Augustine de Ciuitate Dei in the Church of _S. Laurence_in the Old Iewry in London, wherunto resorted one Doctor _Corsin,_an excellent Scholler, and a great Deuine, and all the chiefe learned in, and about the Citty of London.
Then was he made Reader of Fur[n]iuals Inne, where he remained for the space of aboue three yeares; and then he gaue himselfe wholy to deuotio[n] & prayer in the Charter-house at London, lyuing there Religiously foure yeares without vow; during which tyme he often resorted to the house of one M. Colt (a Gentleman in Essex) who vsed many tymes to inuite him thither.
This _M. Colt_had three daughters, whose honest and vertuous educations were the chiefe Motiues, that induced him to place his affection there: and albeit his mynde was most inclyned towards the second Sister, for that he thought her the fayrest, and best fauoured: yet when he considered, it would be both a great griefe, & some shame also to the eldest, to see her younger Sister preferred in Mariage before her, he out of a kind of pitty, then framed his affection towards the eldest, and shortly after maried her. After this he co[n]tinued his study of the Law at _Lincolnes_Inne vntill he was called to the bench, and had there read twise, which is as often, as ordinarily any Iudge of the Law readeth. He dwelt all this whyle at Bucklers-bury in London, where he had, by his wife three daughters, & one Sonne, all brought vp in vertue & learning, from their very infancy: for he would alwayes exhort them, to take Vertue and Learning for their meate, and Play for their sawce.
Before he had euer beene Reader in Court, he was in the later tyme of King _Henry_the seauenth made a Burgesse of the Parlament: In which, was by the King demaunded three fifteens for the Mariage of his eldest daughter vnto the King of Scots. At the debating wherof he alleadged such arguments & reaso[n]s agaynst the sayd demau[n]de, that the Kings expectation was vtterly ouerthrowne[.]
Whereupon one M. Tiler a Gentleman of the Kinges priuy Chamber, being their present, with all speed carried word to the King from Parlament-House, That a beardlesse boy, had disaponted his Graces purpose. Vpon which reporte the King conceiued great displeasure agaynst M. More, & would not rest satisfied, vntill vpon a pretended causelesse quarrell, his Father was committed to the Tower, and there kept prisoner vntil he had payd an hundred pounds, for a fine.
Shortly heerupon it happened, that M. More comming about a suite to _D. Fox,_Bishop of Winchester, one of the Kings priuy Councell; the Bishop called him a syde, and pretending great fauour towards him, promised him, That if he would be ruled by him he would not fayle to restore him agayne into the Kings fauor; meaning forsooth, as he afterwards coniectured, to make him confesse a fault agaynst the King, whereby his Highnes might with the better colour take occasion of displeasure agaynst him. As he came from the Bishop, by chance he met with one M. Whitford his familiar frie[n]d, then the Bishops Chaplaine, but afterwards a Monke of _Syon;_and amongst other talke M. More told him what the Bishop had sayd vnto him, desyring his opinion and aduise therein. Wherupon _M. Whitford_prayed him, for the passion of God, in no wise to follow the Bishops counsel: For my Lord my mayster (quoth he) to serue the Kings turne, will not sticke to agree to the death of his owne Father. So M. More returned no more to the Bishop: and had not the King soone after dyed, he was purposed to haue left the Realme, and gone to some other parts beyond the Seas, knowing that being in the Kings displeasure, he could not liue in England, without great daunger.
After this he was made one of the Vnder sheriffes of London, by which office, and his learning togeather, he hath been often heard to say, that he gained, with but griefe of conscience, not so litle as foure hundred pounds by the yeare: For that there was no matter of importance depending at that tyme in controuersy in any of the Kings Courts, concerning the lawes of the Realme, wherein he was not with one party in counsell.
For his wisdome and learning he was held in such honour and esteeme, that before he came to the seruice of King Henry the Eight, at the suite and instance of our English Merchants, he was, with the Kinges consent, twise sent _Embassadour,_about certayne businesse in co[n]trouersy betwixt them and the Mercha[n]ts of the Stilliard. Whose wise and discreete dealinges therein, to his high Commendatio[n]s, comming vnto the Kings eare, he called immediatlye vnto him Cardinall Wolsey, then Lord Chancellor, and willed him by all meanes to procure, & worke M. More into his seruice.
Whereupon the Cardinall according to the Kinges pleasure, earnestly laboured with him, & amongst many other his persuasio[n]s, he alleadged vnto him, how deere his seruice must needs be to the King, who could not out of Honour seeme to recompence him with lesse, then he should otherwise yearely loose therby. Yet was he loath to change his estate, and made such meanes to the King, by the Cardinall, that his Maiesty at that tyme, rested well satisfied.
Shortly after, there happened a great shippe of the Popes, to ariue at _Southampton,_which was claymed by the King as a forfayture. But the Popes Embassadour, by suite made vnto the King, obtayned, that he might for his Maister haue Councell learned in the Lawes of this Realme, and the matter in his owne prese[n]ce (being himselfe an excellent Ciuilian) to be openly hard and discussed in some publique place. At which tyme there was none, for our Lawes, found more fit to be of Councell with the _Embassador,_then M. More, who could reporte vnto him in Latyn, all the reasons and arguments on both sides alleadged.
Whereupon Councellors on both parties, in the presence of the Lord Chancellour, & other the Iudges of the Star-Chamber had audie[n]ce accordingly where _M. More_declared vnto the Embassadour the whole effect of all theyr opinions, and besides, in defence of his Clyent argued so learnedly himselfe, that thereby not only the Forfaiture aforesaid was agayne restored vnto his Holynesse, but also he himselfe amongst all the Audience, for his vpright and commendable demeanour, was so greatly renowned, that the King from hencforth by no meanes, or intreaty would be moued to forbeare his seruice any longer.
Now, at his first entry into the Kings seruice, his Maiesty made him Master of Requests, hauing the[n] no better place voyde, and within one moneth after he was knighted, & made of his priuy Councell. And so from tyme to tyme did the King still aduance him, to places of Honour; and he continued still in his fauour, and trusty seruice for more then twenty yeares. In which time the King vsed often, especially vpon Festiuall dayes (after he had done his owne Deuotion) to send for him into his owne Trauerse, and there in matters of Astronomy, Geometry, Diuinity, and such like Faculties (yea and often tymes of his temporall affayres) to sit and confer with him. Many tymes also in the night the King would haue him vp into his leades, there to consider with him the diuers scituations, courses, motions, & apparitions of the Stars, & Planets. And for that he was euer of a merry & pleasant disposition, it pleased the King and Queene very often to send for him, at tyme of dinner and supper, as also many other tymes, to come & recreate with them.
But when he perceyued the King to take so much delight in his company, & discourse, that he could not scarce once in a moneth get leaue to go home to his wife and children, nor that he could not be absent fro[m] court two dayes togeather, without sending for agayne, he disliking this restraint of his liberty, did thereupon begin, somewhat to dissemble his merry nature, retyring himselfe by litle and litle from his accustomed mirth, so that he was from thenceforth, sent for orderly by the King, at such tymes as was conuenient.
In this meane tyme dyed one M. Westo[n] Treasurer of the Exchequer, whose office after his decease, the King of his owne free gift, and offer, bestowed vpon Syr Thomas More. And in the fourteenth yeare of his Maiestyes raygne, there was a Parlement holden at Westmynster, wherof Syr Tho. More was chosen Speaker: being very vnwilling to take that office vpon him, made an oration (not now extant) to the Kings Maiesty, for his discharge thereof. Wherunto whe[n] the King would not consent, he spake vnto his Maiesty in this forme, as followeth.
Sith I perceyue (most vndoubted Soueraygne) that it sta[n]deth not with your high Pleasure to reforme this my Electio[n], and cause it to be changed, but haue by the mouth of the most Reuerend Father in God, your highnesse Chauncellour, therevnto giuen your Royall assent, and of your gracious benignity determined, far aboue that I am able to beare, to strengthen me, and repute me fit for this office, as chosen theru[n]to by your Co[m]mons; I am therfore now, and alwayes shalbe ready obediently to conforme my selfe to the accomplishment of your high Co[m]maundement, in most humble wise. Yet with your Graces fauour, before I further enter herinto, I make humble intercession vnto your Highnes, for two lowly Petitions: The one priuatly concerning my self, the other concerning your whole assembly of Commons in Parlament. For my selfe (Gracious Soueraygne) that if it shall happen me to mistake, in any thinge, on the behalfe of your Co[m]mo[n]s in your highnes prese[n]ce or for want of good vttera[n]ce in rehearsal of things, to preuert or impayre their prudent instructions; it may then like your aboundant grace, in the Eye of your accustomed Pitty, to pardo[n] my simplicity, giuing me leaue to repayre agayne vnto the Co[m]mon House, there to conferre anew with them, and take their more substantiall aduice, what thing, and in what wise, I shall on their behalfe vtter & speake before your Maiesty, to the intent thyr prudent aduises and affayres be not by my simplicity and folly hindred or impayred. Which thing, if it should happen vnto me (as it is not vnlikely) if your Gracious Benignity receiued not my ouersight therby, it could not but during my life be a perpetuall grudge and rauines vnto my hart. And this is my first petition vnto your royall Maiesty.
My other suite (most Excellent Prince) is, that forasmuch as there be of your Commons here assembled in Parlament, by your high commandement, a number, which after the accustomed manner, are appoynted by the common House, to treat and aduise of the common affayres apart, amongst themselues: And albeit (most Liege lord) that according to your most prudent aduice, by your Honorable Writs, euery where declared, there hath beene a diligence vsed in sending vp to your Highnes Court of Parlament, the most discreet persons out of euery quarter, esteemed most fit therto, whereby there is gathered, no doubt, a very substantiall Assembly of right wise and politique Persons: Yet (most vertuous Prince) sith amongst so many, euery man is not alike witted, or so well spoken, as other; and it often happeneth, that much folly is vttered, in a paynted speach; As likewise, many that are boysterous & rude in language, do yet giue right good substantiall Cou[n]sell; And moreouer in matters of greate Importance, the mynde happeneth to be so busied, that oftentymes a man studieth rather what to say, then how to speake, by reason whereof the wisest man, & best speaker in a whole Countrey, forthuneth sometymes (his mynd being feruent in the matter) to speake in such wise, as he would afterwardes wish, to haue beene otherwise spoken, and yet no worse will had he, when he spake it, then he hath, when he would so gladly chaunge it: Therefore (most gracious Soueraigne) considering that in your High Court of Parlament nothing is treated of, but matter of weight & importance, and which doth chiefly, & meerly concerne this your most flourishing Realme, and your owne Royall Estate, it would please your Royall Maiesty, out of your abou[n]dant Clemency and fauour, to giue to all your Co[m]mons here assembled, your most gracious licence, and pardon, freely, without feare of your high displeasure, euery ma[n] to discharge his Conscience, & boldly, in euery thing incident amongst vs, to declare his aduice. And whatsoeuer any man shall happen to say, that it may like your Royall Maiesty, of your inestimable Goodnes, to take all in good part, interpreting euery mans wordes (how vnwisely soeuer they be spoken) to proceed of good zeale towardes the profit of your Realme, & dignity of your Royall Person; the prosperous Estate & preseruatio[n] wherof (most dread Soueraigne) is the thing which all we your most hu[m]ble, & louing Subiects,according to the bou[n]den duty of our naturall Allegiance, most highly desire, and pray for.
At this Parlament Cardinall Wolsey fou[n]d himselfe much grieued with the Burgesses thereof, for that nothing was either spoken, or done in the Parlament house, but was immediatly blowne abroad in euery Alehouse and Tauerne. It fortuned also at this Parlament, that a very great Subsidie was demaunded, which the Cardinall fearing would not passe the Lower House, did therefore determine for the furtherance thereof, to be there personally present. Against whose comming, after lo[n]g debate there made, whether it were better to receaue him, but with a few of his Lords, or with his whole trayne: Maisters (quoth Syr Thomas More) for as much, as my Lord Cardinall (ye wot well) lately layd to our charge, the lightnes of our tongues, for thinges vttered out of this house, therfore in my mind it shall not be amisse to receiue him with all Pompe, with his Maces, his Pillars, his Pollaxes, his Crosses, his Hat, & the great Seale too, to the intent, that if he find the like fault with vs hereafter, we may be the bolder from our selues to lay the blame vpon himselfe, and those followers which his Grace bringeth hither with him. Wherevnto the whole House agreed, and receiued him accordingly.
After he was come and receaued in manner aforesayd, the whole house of Parlame[n]t sitting still in silence, and answearing nothing to what he demaunded, but rather contrary to his expectation, seemed not any way to inclyne to his Request, he said vnto them: Maisters, you haue here many wise & learned men amongst you, and sith I am sent hither from the Kinges owne Person, for the preseruation of your selues, and all the Realme, me thinkes you should giue me some some reasonable answere. Whereat euery man continuing silent; then began he to speake to one M. Warney, who making him no answere neither, he seuerally asked the same Question of diuers others that were accompted the wisest men of the house: To whome when none of them all would answere so much as a word, it being before agreed among them to answere only by theyr speaker: Maisters (quoth the Cardinall) vnlesse it be the custome of your howse, as of likelyhood it is, by the mouth of your speaker, whome you haue chosen for trusty and wise (as indeed he is) in such cases to vtter your mindes, without doubt heere is a meruailous obstinate silence, and thereupon he required answere of M. Speaker. Who first reuerently vpon his knees excusing the silence of the Howse, abashed at the presence of so Noble a Personage, able to amaze the wisest & best learned in a kingdome; & after by many probable arguments prouing that for them to make answere, was neither expedient nor agreable with the ancient Liberty of the House; in conclusio[n] for himselfe shewed, that although they had with all their voyces chosen and trusted him to speake, yet except euery one of the[m] could put into his owne head all their seuerall wittes, he alone in so weighty a matter, was far vnmeete to make his Grace answere.
Whereupon the Cardinall displeased with Syr Thomas More (who had not in this Parlament satisfied his desire) suddenly arose and departed. And after the Parlament was ended; at his House in the Gallery at White Hall in _Westminster,_he vttered vnto him his griefes, saying: I would to God _M. More,_you had been at Rome when I first made you Speaker of the House. Your Grace not offended, I would I had beene there my Lord (quoth Syr Thomas.) And to wynd these quarrels out of the Cardinalls head he began to commend that Gallery, and said: I like this Gallery of your my Lord, much better the[n] your Gallery at Hampton-Court; wherewith he so wisely brake off the Cardinalls displeasant talke, as it seemed, knew not what more for the present to say vnto him.
But yet for a Reuenge of his displeasure, the Cardinall counselled the king to send Syr Thomas More Embassadour ouer into Spayne, commending vnto him his wisdome, learning, & fitnes for the voyage; and further told the King that the difficulty of the cause considered; there is none (quoth the Cardinall) so meete, or able to performe your Maiestyes seruice therin, as he. Which when the King had broken to Syr Thomas More, and that he had satisfied his Maiesty how vnfit a voyage it was for him, he nature of the countrey, and disposition of his complexion considered, that he should neuer be able, nor likely to do his Grace acceptable seruice there, knowing right well, that if his Maiesty sent him thither, he should send him to his Graue; yet shewing himselfe neuerthelesse ready, according to his duty, although it were with the losse of his life, to fulfill his Graces pleasure in that behalfe, the King well allowing of his answere said vnto him. It is not our meaning M. More, to do you the least hurt, but rather thy best good; we will therefore for this purpose deuise vpon some other, and imploy your seruice otherwise.
And indeed such entire affection did the King at that tyme beare vnto him, that he made him Chancellour of the Duchy of Lancaster, vpon the death of Syr Richard Wingfield, who had that Office before. And the king tooke so much pleasure in his company, that oftentymes his Maiesty would on the suddaine go vp to his howse at Chelsey, to be merry with him; whither on a tyme comming to dynner, he walked in _Syr Thomas Mores_garden by the space of an houre, and held his arme about _Syr Thomas Mores_necke.
As soone as his Maiesty was gone, M. William Roper, a Gentleman of Grayes Inne, who had married Syr Thomas Mores eldest daughter said vnto him: Father, how happy a man are you, whome the King hath thus familiarly entertayned (for he neuer was seene to do the like vnto any man, except Cardinall Wolsey, with whome the King did often walke arme in arme:) I thanke our Lord God, Sonne Roper (quoth he) I find his Grace my very good Lord indeed. And I thinke he doth as singularly fauour me, as any subiect within this Realme; howbeit, Sonne Roper, I may tell thee, I haue no great cause to be proud thereof. But if my Head could wyn his Maiesty a Castle in France (for then there was warre with France) it should not fayle to goe.
Amongst many other his vertues he was of such Meekenes, that if he happened to enter into argument, or dispute with any learned man resorting to him from Oxford, Cambridge, or other place (as there did diuers, some for desyre of his acquainta[n]ce, some for the famous report of his wisdome and learning, and some about suites for the Vniuersityes) although very few were comparable vnto him as well witnesseth Erasmus:) & if in discourse, he so pressed the[m] that they cold not well hold agaynst him; the[n] least he should discourage the[m] (as one that sought not his owne Glory) he wold seeme conquered, & by some wise deuise, courteously breake off into some other matter, & giue ouer. Of whome for his wisdome and learning the king had such an opinion, that at such tymes as he attended his person, in his progresse either to Oxford, or _Cam[bridge,]_where he was receiued with very eloquent Orations, his Maiesty would alwayes assigne Syr Thomas More, as one prompt, and ready therein, to make Answere thereunto, ex tempore.
His custome also was, that whe[n]soeuer he came to any Vniuersity, eyther heere or beyond the Seas, not only to be present at Disputations and Readinges, but also to dispute very learnedly himselfe, to his high Commendations, and generall applause of all the assembly.
During the tyme of his Chau[n]cellorship for the Duchy of Lancaster, he was sent twice Embassador, ioyned in co[m]mission with _Cardinall Wolsey,_once vnto the Emperour Charles into Flanders, the other tyme vnto the French King at Paris.
About this tyme, it hapned that the Water-bayly of London, who had somtimes byn Syr Thomas Mores seruant, hearing certayne Merchants to speake somewhat lauishly agaynst his old Maister, was so displeased therat, that he came with all speed to Syr Thomas More, & told him what he had heard, & of whom. Syr (quoth he) if I were in such fauour and authority with my Prince, as you are, such men as these should not surely be suffered, so vncharitably & falsly to misreport & slaunder me. Wherfore I wish you to call the[m] befor you & punish them. _Syr Thomas More_smyling vpon him sayd: Why, M. Water-bayly, would you haue me punish them, by whom I receyue more benefit then by all you, that are my friends? Let them a Gods Name speake as lewdly of me as they list, and shoote neuer so many darts at me, what am I the worse? But if they should once hit me, then would it not indeed a little trouble me: Howbeit I trust by Gods helpe, there shall none of them all be able to touch me. Therefore I haue more cause, I assure thee M. Water-baily to pitty, then to be angry with them. Such fruitefull communication would he often tymes haue with his familiar Friends.
So on a tyme walking a lo[n]g the Thames syde at Chelsey, with his Sonne in law M. Roper, and discoursing of many things, amongst other speaches he sayd thus vnto him: Now I would to our Lord God, Sonne _Roper,_that three things were well established in Christendome, vpon co[n]dition that I were heer presently put into a sacke, & cast into the midst of the Thames. What great things be those Sir (quoth M. Roper) that moue you so to wish? Wouldest thou know Sonne Roper, quoth he? May it so please you Syr, with a very good will, sayd _M. Roper._In fayth Sonne Roper, they be these: First, that where the most parte of Christian Princes are now at mortal warres, I would they were all at an vniuersall peace. The seco[n]d is, that where the Church is at this present, sore afflicted with Errors & Heresyes, that it were setled in a perfect vniformity of Religion. The third is, that where the Kings matter of his marriage is now come into question, I wish it were, to the glory of God, and quietnes of all parties, brought to a good conclusion. By which three things (as M. Roper supposed) he iudged, that there would be a great disturbance, through the most part of Christendome.
Thus did Syr Tho. More through the whole course of his life, by his actions make it appeare, that all his trauels and paynes, without thought of earthly co[m]modity either to himselfe or any of his, were only for the seruice of God, his King and the Common Wealth, wholy bestowed & imployed. And he was oftentymes, in his latter dayes heard to say, That he neuer asked of the King, for himselfe, the value of one Penny.
His dayly custome was, if he were at home, besides his priuate prayers with his wife, children, and family, often to retyre alone, and exercise himselfe in priuate and godly deuotions: as also euery night before he went to bed, he vsed to go to his chapell with his whole Family aforesaid, & there vpon his knees deuoutly to say, certayne Letanyes, Psalmes & Collects with them.
And because he was alwayes desyrous of priuate Exercise, & that he might the better withdraw himselfe from worldly co[m]pany, he built himselfe a lodging a good distance from his Mansion house, called the _New Building,_wherein he placed a Chapell, Library, and a Gallery to walke, spending many dayes in the weeke in Prayer, and Study togeather. And allwayes on the Friday, he did vsually continue there fro[m] Morning vntill Night, bestowing his tyme only in meditation, reading, and such godly Exercises.
And the more to stir vp & encourage his wife, and children, to the desyre of heaue[n]ly things, he would oftentymes vse these speaches vnto the[m]: It is no maistery for you, my Children, to go to heauen; for euery body giueth you good counsell, and likewise many shew you good Examples. You see Vertue rewarded, and Vice punished; so that you are caryed vp to heauen, euen by the chynne: But if you liue to the tyme, that no man will giue you good counsell, nor shew you good example; when you shall see Vertue punished, and Vice rewarded; if then you will stand fast & sticke firmely vnto God; vpon payne of my life, though you be but halfe good, yet God will allow you for wholy good.
If his wife, children, or any of his Howshould, had beene sicke, or troubled at any tyme with any infirmity, he would say vnto the[m]: We may not looke at our pleasure to go to Heauen in featherbeds; it is not the way: for our Blessed Lord himselfe went thither with great payne, and by many Tribulations; and hard was the path-way wherein he so walked: Nor may the Seruant, looke to be in better case, then his Maister.
And as he would in this manner alwayes perswade them to take their paines and sicknes patiently, so would he in like forme teach them to withstand the diuell, & his temptations valiantly, saying: Whosoeuer shall mark well the diuell and his temptatio[n]s, shall find him therein much like vnto an Ape. For as an Ape not well looked vnto, will be busy, and bold to do shrewd turnes, and being espied will suddenly leape backe, and aduenture no further: so the diuell finding a man idle, sloathfull, and without resistance, ready to receiue his temptations, waxeth so hardy, that he will not sticke to continue still with him, vntill he hath wrought him througly to his purpose. But on the contrary side, if he see a man with diligence perseuere to preuent, and withstand his temptations, he waxeth so weary, that in the end he vtterly forsaketh him. For as the diuell by disposition is a spirit of so high a Pride, that he cannot abide to be mocked; so is he of nature so Enuious, that he feareth to assault a vertuous man, least he should thereby not only catch a foule fall himselfe, but also minister vnto the man, more matter of merit.
Thus he euer delighted, not only to busy himself in vertuous exercises, but also to exhort his wife, children, and howshold to embrace, and follow the same. To whome for his notable vertues, God shewed, as it seemed, a miraculous and manifest token of his loue, and fauour towardes him, at such tyme, as his daughter Roper lay dangerously sicke of the sweating sicknes (as many others did that yeare) and continued in such extremity of that disease, that by no skill of Phisicke, or other art in such case, commonly vsed, (although she had diuers both expert and learned Phisitians continually attendant about her) she could be kept from sleeping, so that the Phisitians themselues vtterly despayred of her recouery, and quite gaue her ouer. Her Father Syr Tho. More, as one that most intierely loued and tendred her, being in great griefe and heauinesse, and seeing all humane helps to faile, determined to haue recourse to God by prayer for remedy. Whereupon going vp after his accustomed maner, into his aforesaid _New Building,_he there in his Chappell, vpon his knees with teares, most deuoutly besought Almighty God, that it would please his diuine Goodnes, vnto whome nothing was impossible, if it were his blessed will, to vouchsafe graciously to heare his humble petitio[n]. And suddenly it came into his mynd, that a Glister might be the only way to help her; of which when he had told the Phisitians, they all instantly agreed, that if there were any hope of remedy, that was the most likeliest; and meruayled much, that themselues had not before remembred the same. Then was it instantly ministred vnto her sleeping, & after a while she awaked, and contrary to all their expectations immediately began to recouer, & in short tyme was wholy restored vnto her former health. Whome, if it had pleased God to haue taken away, at that time, her Father sayd, that he would neuer after haue medled with worldly businesse.
Now whilst Syr Thomas More was Chau[n]cellour of the Duchy of _Lancaster,_the Sea of Rome chaunced to be voyd, by the death of Pope Leo the X. which was the cause of much trouble; for that _Cardinall Wolsey_a man of a very high and ambitious spirit, aspiring vnto that sea & dignity, was therein crost and preuented by the Emperour Charles the fifth, who had commended the Cardinall Adrian (sometyme his Schoole-maister) vnto the Conclaue of Cardinalls in Rome, at the tyme of election, & so highly praysed him for his Worth and Vertue, that he was thereupon chosen Pope. Who comming from Spayne (where he was then resident) to Rome, entred into the Citty towardes his Pallace barefooted with such humility, that all the people had him in very great Reuerence.
Vpon this & other like occasions, Card. Wolsey enraged with anger, studied all the wayes he could deuise to be reuenged of the Emperour, which as it was the beginning of a most lametable Tragedy, so some part thereof, not impertinent to my present purpose, I haue thought fit heere to insert.
The Cardinall, not ignorant of King Henries inconstant & mutable disposition, vsed all meanes to auert his Maiesty, from his wife Queene _Katherine,_the Emperours Aunt, well knowing he would easily inclyne to that motion vpon any sleight occasion. And so meaning to make the Kings flexible Nature, the instrument to bring about his vngodly purpose, he deuised to allure his Maiesty (who was already, contrary to the Cardinals mynd, and knowledge, fallen in loue with the Lady Anne Bullen) to affect the French Kings Sister. Which thing, because of the wars, and hatred that was there betweene the French King, and the Emperour (whome the Cardinall now mortally hated) he very earnestly indeauoured to procure. And for the better furthering this his purpose, he requested one _Langland,_Bishop of Lincolne, and Ghostly Father to K. Henry, to put a scruple into the K. head; that it was not lawfull for him to mary his Brothers wife, which thing the King (not sory to heare of) related first to Syr Thomas More, & required his counsell therein, and with all shewd him some places of Scripture which seemed somewhat to serue his purpose. Syr Thomas More perusing the said places, hereupon (as one that had neuer professed Diuinity) excused himselfe vnto his Maiesty, and said, he was farre vnfit to meddle with such affaires.
The King not satisfied with this answere, pressed and vrged him the more; which he perceauing said vnto his Maiesty: that forasmuch as such a busines required good aduise and deliberation, he besought his Highnes to giue him sufficient respit to co[n]sider aduisedly of the same. Wherwith the King well contented, replyed, That Tonstall & Clark, Bishops of Durhan& Bath, with others learned of his priuy Cou[n]sell should also be dealers therin.
So Syr Thomas More departed, and conferred those places of Scripture with the Expositions of diuers of the ancient Fathers, and Doctours of the Church, and at his comming to Court & talking with the King of the aforesaid matter, he said: To be playne with your Grace, neither my Lord of _Durham,_nor my Lord of Bath, though I hold them to be both learned, vertuous, & holy Prelates, nor my selfe, with any other of your Counsell (being all your Maiesties owne seruants, & so greatly bound vnto you for your manifold enefits dayly bestowed vpon vs) be in my iudgment fit Counsellors for your Grace herein. But if your Maisty desyre to vnderstand the Truth, such Counsellors may be found, as neither for respect of worldly commodity, nor for feare of your Princely authority, will any way be drawne to deceiue you. And then he named vnto the King _S. Hierome, S. Augustine_and diuers others auncient Fathers & Doctors of the Church, both Greeke an[d] Latin; and further shewed his Maiesty, what authority he had gathered forth of them: of which although the King (as not fitting to his purpose) did not very well like; yet were they by Syr Thomas More so wisely alleaged, and so tempred with discretion, that the King at that tyme, tooke it in good part, and had oftentimes conference with him againe, about the same matter.
After this there were certayne questions propounded to the Kings Counsell whether in this case the King needed to haue any scruple at all: and if he had, what was the best way to free him of it? The greater part of the Counsell were of opinion, that there was good cause of scruple, and that for his Maiesties discharge therin, it was fit suite should be made vnto the Sea of _Rome,_where the King thought that by his liberality, he might with ease obtayne his purpose.
The[n] was there procured from Rome a commission for the tryall of this Mariage, wherein Cardinall Campegius, and Cardinal Wolsey were ioyned commissioners, who for the determination therof, sate at the _Blacke-Fryers_in London, where a Libell was put in, for the annulling of the said Matrimony, affirming the Mariage betweene the King and Queene to be vnlawfull. Then againe, for proofe therof to be lawfull, there was produced a dispensation, in which (after diuers disputations thereupo[n] holden) there appeared an imperfection; which notwithstanding by an other instrument, or brief found out vpon search, in the Treasury of Spayne, & sent ouer to the commissioners in Engla[n]d, was supplyed; & so should iudgme[n]t haue ben giuen by the Pope accordingly, had not the King vpon intelligence therof before the same Iudgment, appealed to a Generall Cou[n]cell. After whose Appellation, the Cardinalls sate no more vpon that businesse.
It happened, before the said matter of Mariage brought in Question, that _M. Roper_being one day in discourse with Syr Tho. More, did with a kind of ioy, congratulate with his said Father, for the happy Estate of the Realme that had so Catholique a Prince, as no Heretique durst shew his face, so vertuous and learned a Clergy, so graue and sound a Nobility, and so louing and obedient Subiects, all in one fayth agreeing togeather. Troth, it is so indeed, Sonne Roper (quoth he:) and then commended all degrees and estates of the same, far beyond M. Roper. And yet Sonne Roper(quoth he) I pray God, that some of vs (as high as we seeme to sit vpon the Mountaynes, treading Heretiques vnder our feete like Ants) liue not to see the day, when we gladly would wish to be in league and composition with those whom you call Heretiques, & to let them haue their Churches quietly to themselues, vpon co[n]dition, that they would be content to let vs haue ours, quietly to our selues.
Then _M. Roper_produced many reasons to the contrary & saw no cause why any should say so. Well, well, Sonne Roper (quoth he) I pray God some of vs liue not till that day, and said no more. To whome _M. Roper_replyed, By my troth Syr, this is desperatly spoken, seeming to be halfe angry with Syr Thomas More: who perceiuing the same, said merrily vnto him: Well, well, So[n]ne Roper, It shall not be then, since you will not haue it so. Thus was he of so excellent a temper, that those who liued, & were co[n]tinually co[n]uersant with him in his house, for the space of twenty yeares and vpwardes, could neuer perceiue him to be once moued, or to make the least shew of anger.
But to returne agayne where I left. After the supplying of the dispensation, sent vnto the commissioners into England, as is before rehearsed, the King taking the businesse to himselfe, as not then mynding to proceed any further in the matter, assigned the bishop of Durham and _Syr Thomas More_to go Embassadours to Cambray (a place neither Imperiall, nor French) to treat a Peace betweene the Emperour, the Fre[n]ch King, & himselfe; in the concluding wherof Syr Tho. More so worthily managed the busines, that he procured therby much more benefit for the Kingdome, then was at that tyme by the King and his Cou[n]sell thought possible could be co[m]passed. For whose good seruice in that Embassy, the King (when he after made him Lord Chauncellour) caused the Duke of Norfolke, to declare openly to the people, how much all England was bounden vnto him, as you shall see heerafter more at large.
Now vpon the co[m]ming home of the Bishop of Durham, and _Syr Thomas More_from Cambray aforsayd, the King began to renew agayne his old suite, and was very earnest in persuading Syr Thomas More to agree vnto the matter of his marriage, vsing all the wayes, and meanes he could deuise to draw him to his part, and as it was thought did the rather for that end soone after create him Lord Chauncellour of England. And the King said further vnto him, that although at his going to Cambray, he was in vtter despaire to obtaine dispensation thereof; yet now he had conceiued some good hope to co[m]passe the same; alleaging, that albeit his Marriage, as being agaynst the positiue Law of the Church, & the written Law of God, was holpen by the dispensation; yet is here another thing found out of late (quoth the King) wherby his Marriage appeareth so directly agaynst the law of Nature, that it can in no wise, by the Church be dispensable, as Doctor Stokesly (whome he had then preferred to the Bishopricke of London) can well instruct you, with whome, vpon this point, I would haue you to confer.
So they conferred togeather. But for all the Conference, Syr Thomas More could not be induced to change his opinion therein: Yet notwithstanding did the Bishop in his Report of him to the King affirme falsely, that he found Syr Thomas More, in the Kings cause, very forward, as being desirous to find some good matter, wherewith he might serue the Kings contentment, in that case.
Now, this Bishop _Stokesley,_hauing a litle before, byn by Cardinal Wolsey openly rebuked in the S[t]arre-chamber, & awarded to the Fleete, he not well brooking this contumelious vsage; and knowing that forasmuch as the Cardinall, for his backewardnes in pursuing the Kings diuorse, was falling out of his Highnes fauour; and that he had now espied a fit opportunity to reuenge his quarell agaynst him; at last preuayled so far, that the Cardinall was soone after displaced from his office of high Chancellorship, and the same was conferred vpon Syr Thomas More, hoping therby so to win him to his syde, that he would yield his consent for the matter of diuorse.
Then was Syr Thomas More betweene the Dukes of Suffolk and _Norfolke,_brought through Westminster Hall, to his place in the Chancery, and the Duke of Norfolke in the audience of all the people there assembled, shewed, that he was from the King himselfe straitley charged by speciall commission, to publish there openly in the presence of them all, how much all England was beholding to _Syr Thomas More,_for his good seruice: and how worthily he deserued the highest roome in the Kingdome; and further how deere his Maiesty loued & trusted him; wherein (quoth the Duke) he hath great cause to reioyce, & prayse Almighty God.
Whereunto Syr Thomas More (amongst diuers other wise and learned speches) made answere and replyed, that allthough he had good cause to take comfort of his Highnes singular fauour towards him, to whome therefore he acknowledged himselfe most deeply bounden; yet neuerthelesse he must for his owne part needes confesse, that in all those things, by the Duks Grace here alleaged, he had done nothing, but what was his duty. And furthermore said, That he was very vnfit for that dignity, wherein (considering how wise and worthy a Prelate, had lately before taken so great a fall) he said he had no great cause to reioyce. And as they had before in the Kings behalfe, charged him to minister Iustice vprightly & indiffere[n]tly to the people, without corruption or affection: so did he likewise charge them agayne, that if they saw him, at any time to digresse, in the least thing, touching any part of his duty, in that honourable Office, euen as they would discharge their owne duty and fidelity to God and the King, they would not fayle to declare the same to his Maiesty; who otherwise, might haue iust cause to lay the whole fault vpon them, and to their charge.
Now, when he was Lord Chauncellour, on a tyme being at leasure (as seldome he was) a Sonne in law of his, who had marryed one of his daughters, spake merrily vnto him saying: When Cardinall Wolsey was Lord Chancellour, not onely diuers of his priuy Cha[m]ber, but such also as were but his very door-keepers got much proffit: and now sith I haue maryed one of your daughters, and giue my dayly attendance vpon you, I thinke I might of reason looke for somthing, but you spoyle all markets, Syr, because you be so redy your selfe to heare euery man, aswell poore as rich, & besides you keepe no doores shut agaynst them, which is to me no small hinderance and discourageme[n]t; whereas otherwise some for friendshippe, some for kyndred, but most for profit, would be glad to haue my furtherance to bring them to your presence. And now as the case stands, if I should take any thing of them, I know I should do them much wrong, for that they may do as much for themselues, as I am able to do for the[m]. Which thing though it be in you very commendable, yet to me your Sonne I find it nothing profitable.
You say well, Sonne (quoth Syr Thomas More) I do not mind like that you are so scrupulous of conscience, for there be many other wayes, whein I may both do you good, and pleasure your friend also; for sometyme may I by my word stand your friend insteed, and sometime I may by my letters help him or if he haue a cause depending before me, at your request I may heare him before another; or if his cause be not altogether of the best, yet may I moue the partyes to fall to some reasonable end, or compound by arbitrement: Howbeit this one thing, Sonne, I assure thee; on my Fayth, that if the parties will at my hands call for iustice, then if it were my Father that stood on the the one side, and the Diuell on the other side, his cause being good, the Diuell surely should haue right.
So offered he to his Sonne as much fauour as he thought he could in reason require. And that he would for no respect digresse neuer so litle fro[m] iustice, did plainely appeare by another of his Sonns in-law, one _M. Giles Heron,_who had a sorry suite depending before him in the Cha[n]cery, yet presuming much vpon his Fathers fauour, would in no wayes be perswaded by him to come to an indifferent compostio[n] with his aduersary; wherevpon in triall of the matter, Syr Thomas More pronounced sentence agaynst him.
He vsed euery afternoone to sit in his open Hall, to the end, that whosoeuer had any suit vnto him, they might the more boulder come to his presence, and there to open theyr Complayints before him. Also his manner was, to read euery Bill himselfe, before he would grant any Sub pœna, and hauing read it, he would either set his hand vnto it, or else cancell it.
Whensoeuer he passed throgh Westminster Hall, to his place in Chancery, by the Court of Kings Be[n]ch, if his Father (one of the iudges therof) had bin there set before he came, he would go into the same Court, & there most reuerently vpon his knees before the whole Assembly, aske his Father blessing. As likewise, if his Father and he chanced to meet at the Lecture in L Lincolnes Inne (as oftentymes they did) yet, notwithstanding his high place & Office, would he offer in Argument, the preheminence vnto his Father; nor would himselfe accept thereof, vntill his Father had refused it.
And for further declaration of his naturall affection, & loue towardes his Father, when he lay sicke vpon his death bed, he did not only (according to his duty) oftentymes come and visit him, with all manner of comfort, but also at his departure out of the world, he tooke him about the Necke, kissed, & imbraced him, commending his soule into mercyfull hands of Almighty God, and so departed.
Whilest he was Lord Chancellour, he graunted but few Iniunctions; yet were they by some of the Iudges of the Law misliked, which _M. Roper_vnderstanding, declared the same vnto Syr Thomas More, who answered, that they should haue litle cause to find fault with him therfore. Whereupon he caused one M. Crooke, chiefe of the six Clarkes to make a Docket conteyning the whole number and causes of all such Iniunctions, as either in his tyme had already passed, or at the present depended in any of the Kings Courts at Westminster before him; which done, he one day inuited all the Iudges to dinner with him in the Counsell Cha[m]ber at Westminster, and after dynner, when he had broken with them, what co[m]playnts he had heard of his Iniunctions, & moreouer had shewed them the number and causes of euery one in order, truly & playnely, they were all inforced to confesse, that themselues in like cases could haue done no otherwise. Then made he this offer vnto them, That if the Iudges of euery Court (vnto whome the reformation of the rigour of the Law, by reason of their Office most especially appertayned) would vpon reasonable considerations in their owne discretions (as he thought they were bound to do in conscience) mitigate, and reforme the rigour of the law themselues, there should from thenceforth be no more Iniunctions graunted out by him. Whereunto when they refused to condescend, then said he vnto them: For asmuch as your selues (my Lordes) force me to that necessity, of granting out Iniunctions, for reliefe of the peoples iniuries, you cannot hereafter any more iustly blame me.
After that, he spake priuatly to M. Roper saying: I perciue why they liked not to do so, for they see that they may by the verdict of the Iury, cast all quarrels vpon those whome they account their cheife defence; and therefore am I compelled, to abide the aduenture of all such Reports.
Now in the tyme of his Chancellourshippe, allthough he had but litle leasure to busy himselfe in the study of holy Scriptures and Controuersies in Religion, with other such like Exercises, being in a manner continually imployed about the affaires of the King and Kingdome; yet did he take many watchfull paines in setting forth diuers profitable workes, in the defence of Christian Religion, agaynst Heresies, that then were blowne abroad. In so much that the Bishops, to whose Pastorall care that Reformation chiefly belo[n]ged, seeing themselues, by his trauell (wherein by their owne confession, they were not any way able to compare with him) in great part discharged of their dutyes in that behalfe; & considering, that for all the Princes fauor, & his great Office he was no rich man, nor had in yearly reuenewes adua[n]ced himselfe as his worthynes deserued, therefore at a Conuocation, holden amongst themselues, and others of the Clergy, they agreed to recompence him with a summe of fiue thousand pounds, for the paynes taken in their behalfe.
To the payment whereof euery Bishop, Abbot, and others of the Clergy, according to the rates of their abiltyes, became liberall Contributaries; hoping that this their liberality would giue him good content. Wherevpon Bishop _Tonstall_of Durha[m], Bishop Clarke of Bath, & _D. Voysey_Bishop of Exceter repayred vnto _Syr Tho. More,declaring how thankefully, to their discharge in Gods cause, they reckoned themselues vnto him; and albeit they could, not according to his deserts, so worthily requite his labours, & therefore must refer the same to Gods gracious goodnesse: yet for a small gratuity, in respect of his Estate so vnequall to his Worth, in the Name of their whole Conuocation, they presented vnto him the forsaid Summe, desiring him to accept of it in good part. But Syr Thomas More refusing this their tender, said vnto them: That, as it was no small comfort vnto him that so wise and learned men accepted of his weake labours, for which he neuer intended to receiue any other reward, but at the hands of God, to whome alone all the thankes therof were chiefly to be ascribed: So gaue he most humble thankes vnto all their Honours, for their so friendly and honourable consideration, and earnestly intreated them to returne euery man his money agayne.
Wherefore when after much pressing him to accept therof, & cold not preuaile, they besought him, that they might bestow it vpon his Wife, and Children. Not so my Lords (quoth he,) I had rather see it cast into the Thames, than either I, or any of myne should haue the value of one penny therof. For, my Lordes, though your offer indeed be very fayre and friendly, yet set I so much by my pleasure, & so litle by my profit, that I would not, in good fayth, for so much, and much more, to haue lost so many a good nights sleepe, as I spent vpon the same. And yet I would wish, for all that, vpon conditio[n] that Heresies were suppressed, that all my Bookes were burned & my labour lost. Thus departed they from him, and were driuen to returne euery man his owne money agayne.
This Lord Chancellour, although he was well knowne, both to God and the world to be a man of most eminent Vertue, though not so considered of euery man; yet for the auoyding of singularity would he appeare to the ey of the world no otherwise then other men, as well in his apparell, as behauiour. And albeit he appeared outwardly Honourable, like to one of his Dignity & Calling, yet inwardly did he esteme all such things for meere vanity: for next to his naked body he wore almost co[n]tinually a shirt of hayre; the wch a young Gentlewoman, named M.rs More, by chance on[e] day espying as he sat in his doublet & hose at dynner in the so[m]mer tyme, and seemed to smile therat, his daughter Roper perceiuing the same (being not ignorant of this his austerity) gaue him priuate notice therof, and he did presently amend the fault, seeming withall sorry, that she had seene it. He also wore another playne course shirt without ruffe or collar, vpon his shirt of hayre; And many tymes he likewise punished his body with whips, made of knotted cordes; the which thing was only knowne to his daughter_Roper, who for her secrecy, aboue all the rest he especially trusted, for that as need required she did alwayes wash & mend his shirt of hayre, which he would not discouer vnto any other whatsoeuer.
Now, in this meane space, whilst he was Lord Cha[n]cellour of England, the King did one day greatly moue him, & desire him, well to weigh and consider of his great matter, concerning his diuorce. _Syr Thomas More_falling vpon his knees, most humbly besought his Maiesty to stand still his gratious Souerainge, as euer since his entry into his Royall Seruice, he had found him; and said, that there was nothing in the world more grieuous to his hart, then that he was not able with the losse of one of his lymbes, to find any thing for that matter, wherby he might with safe conscience serue his Maiesties turne. And that he had alwayes borne in mynd the most Godly wordes, that his Highnesse spake vnto him, at his first comming into his Royall seruice (the most vertuous Lesson, that euer Prince taught a Subiect) to wit, that he should first looke vnto God, & after God, vnto his King: as in good fayth (said he ) I haue most sincerely done, or els might your Grace accompt me a most vnworthy seruant.
To this the King replyed; that if he could not therein with his conscience serue him, he was well content to accept of his seruice otherwise, and vse the aduice of some others of his priuy Counsell, whose consciences would agree well inough therewith, nor would he neuerthelesse disco[n]tinue his gracious fauour towards him, nor trouble his conscience any further with that matter, for the tyme forward.
But Syr Thomas More perceiued by little and little, that the King fully determined to proceede in his Marriage with Queene Anne, when he, with the Bishopps and Nobles of the Higher House of Parlament, were for the furtherance of that matter, co[m]manded by the King to go vnto the Commons of the lower House, & shew vnto them, what the Vniuersities aswell of other parts beyond the seas, as of Oxford, and Cambridge had done in that behalfe, testifiying the same with their seales and subscriptions. All which things (at the Kinges request, not shewing of what mynd he was therein himselfe) he opened to the Lower House of Parliament.
Neverthelesse doubting greatly, lest further inconueniences might follow, into [which] (contrary to his conscience) by reason of his Office, he was likely to befall, he made humble suite to the Duke of Norfolke (his singular deare friend) to be a meanes vnto the King, that he might, with his Graces fauour, be discharged from his Office of Chancellourship; in which for certayne infirmityes of his body, he pretended himselfe not able any longer to serue.
This good Duke of Norfolke comming on a time to Chelsey to dyne with Syr Thomas More, found him in the Church, singing in the Quier, with a Surplisse on his backe: to whome (after Masse was done) as they went towardes his house, together arme in arme, the Duke said: Gods body, Gods body, my Lord Chauncellour, what turned Parish Clarke? You dishonor the King and his Office very much. Nay (quoth Syr Thomas More smyling vpon the Duke) your Grace may not thinke, that the king your maister and myne, wilbe offended with me for seruing God his Maister, or therby accompt his Seruice any way dishonoured.
Now, when the Duke (at the speciall intreaty and importunate suite of _Syr Thomas More,_had obtayned of the King, that he should be discharged of his Chancellorship, at a conuenient tyme appointed by the King, he repayred vnto the Court, to yield vp the great Seale, which his Maiesty receaued of him, with prayse, and thankes for his good seruice done to his person and the Realme in that Office. And he further sayd vnto him in a gracious manner, that if in any suite he should heerafter haue vnto him, that either concerned his Honour (for that word it pleased the King to vse vnto him,) or appertayned to his profit, he should euer find his Highnes, a very good, and gracious Lord.
After he had thus resigned the Office, and Dignity of the Chancellorship, and placed all his Gentlemen & Yomen with Bishops and Noble men, and his eight Watermen with the Lord Audley (who succeeded him in his Office) to whome also he gaue his great Barge; he then called al his children vnto him, & asked their aduises how he might now in the decay of his ability, which by the surrender of his Office was so impayred, that he could not, as he was wont, maintayne them to liue al together according to his desyre; wherat when he saw them all silent, & vnwilling in that case to shew their opinions vnto him: Why then will I (quoth he) shew vnto you my poore mynd.
I haue been brought vp, (said he) at Oxford, at an I[n]ne of Chancery, at _Lincolnes_Inne, and also in the Kings Courtes, and so forth, from the lowest degree to the highest; and yet I haue in yearly Reuenewes, left me at this present, little aboue a hundred poundes by the yeare. So that now, we must hereafter if we will liue together, be content to become Contributours to ech other; but by my counsell it shall not be best for vs, to fall to the lowest fare first. We will not therefore descend to Oxford fare, nor the fare of New Inne; but we will begin with _Lincolnes Inne_dyet, where many right Worshipfull of good yeares do liue full well; which if we find not our selues the first yeare able to mayntayne, then will we the next yeare go one steppe downe to New-Inne fare, wherewith, many an honest man is well contented. Then, if that exceed our abilityes, will we the next yeare after descend to Oxford fare, where many graue, learned, & ancient Doctours be continually resident; which if our powers be not able to mayntayne neyther, then may we yet with bagges and wallets go a begging togeather, hoping that for pitty some good people will giue vs their Charity, at their doore, to sing _Salue Regina,and so still may we keepe company togeather, and be as merry as Beggars.
And whereas you haue heard before, that he was by the King, taken from a very good liuing, and aduanced to his Maiesties seruice, wherein he spent with paynfull cares and trauels, aswell beyond the Seas, as within the Kingdome, in a manner the whole substance of his life: yet with all the gayne that he got thereby (being neuer wastfull spender) he was scarce able, after the Resignation of his office of Chancellorship, for the maintaynance of himselfe, and such as necessarily belonged vnto him, sufficiently to find meate drinke, apparell, and other such neccessaryes; all the land which he euer purchased (which he had also, before he was Lord Chancellour) not amounting to aboue the value of Twenty markes a yeare. And after his debts payd, he had not ( his Chayne only excepted) in gold and siluer, left him the worth of one hundred pounds.
In the tyme of his Chancellorship, vpon the Sundayes and Holy daies, when Masse, or Eue[n]songe were ended, one of of his Gentlemen did vsually go to his Ladyes Pew in the Church, & say vnto her: Madame, my Lord is gone. The next Sunday after the surrender of his Office, & departure of his Gentlemen, he went vnto his Ladyes pew himselfe, and with his Cap in hand, he made her low Courtesy, saying vnto her; Madame, My Lord is gone.
In the tyme, before his troubles, he would talke with his Wife and Children of the ioyes of heauen, & the paynes of hell & of the liues of the Holy Martyrs, of their grieuous Martyrdomes, of their meruailous Patience, and of their sufferings & deathes, & that they died most willingly rather the[n] they would offe[n]d God: also what a happy & blessed thing it was for the loue of God to suffer losse of goods, imprisonment, losse of life, and landes. Moreouer he would further say vnto them, That vpon his Fayth, if he could but perceiue, that his wife & Children would encourage him to dye in a good cause, it would be such a comfort vnto him, that for very ioy therof he would run merrily to his death. By this discourse, and other such like, he gaue them feeling what troubles might afterwardes chance to happen vnto him, wherby he had so farre encouraged them before the tyme, that afterwardes when they happened vnto him indeed, they seemed a great deale the lesse.
Now after the Resignation of his Office, there came vnto him to Chelsey, M. Thomas Cromwell (then in the Kings his fauour) with a message from his Maiesty, about which when they had co[n]ferred together priuatly; M. Cromwell(quoth Syr Thomas More) you are now newly entred into the seruice of a most Royall, Wise, & liberall Prince, and if you follow my poore aduise, you shall in your Counsell-giuing, euer tell him what he ought to do, but neuer what he is able to do. So shall you shew your selfe a true and faythfull seruant, & a right worthy Cou[n]sellour: for if a Lyon knew his owne strength, it were hard for any man to rule him.
Within a short tyme after [t]his, there was a Commission graunted forth and directed to M. Cranmer (then Archbishop of Canterbury) to determyne the matter of the Mariage between the King, & Queene Katharine, at S. Albans. Where at last, it was fully determined and concluded, according to the Kings desire: and then began he to co[m]playne, that since he could haue no Iustice at the Popes handes, he would therfore from thenceforth separate himselfe from the Sea of Rome, and thereupon he presently maried the Lady Anne Bullen.
Which, when_Syr Tho. More vnderstood, he sayd to M. Roper, God graunt, God graunt, Sonne Roper, that these matters within a while, be not confirmed by Oath.
About this tyme, Queene Anne was to passe through London fro[m] the Tower to Westminster, to her Coronation, & some few dayes before, Syr Thomas More receiued a letter fro[m] the Bishops of Durham, Bath & Winchester requesting him, both to keep them company from the Tower to Westminster to the said Coronation, and withall to accept of Twenty Poundes, which by the Bearer thereof they had sent vnto him to buy him a gowne; which he thankfully receiued, but yet went not, staying still at home vntill the Coronation was past. At his next meeting with the said Bishops, he spake merrily vnto them, saying My Lordes, by the letter which you sent lately vnto me, you required of me two things, one wherof since I was well contented to graunt, therefore I thought I might be the boulder to deny you the other: and also, because I tooke you for no Beggars, and my selfe I know to be no rich man, I thought I might the rather accept of your liberality with the more honesty. But indeed your other Request put me in mynd of a certaine Emperour ( I haue now forgotten his name) that made a law, that whosoeuer co[m]mitted a certayne offe[n]ce (which I do not now neyther remember,) should suffer death, by being deuoured of wild beastes, except it were a Virgin that offended against the same, such reuerence did he beare vnto Virginity. Now, it so fell out, that the first who committed the offence, was indeed a Virgin, wherof the Emperour hearing, was much perplexed because for the example of others, he would fayne haue had that Law put in execution. Whereupon his Counsell had sate, and long debated the case, suddenly there arose vp one amongst the rest a good playne fellow, and said, Why make you so much ado about this businesse, my Lordes? The matter seemes to me but small, and easy to be decided: For let her first be deflowered, and then afterwardes she may be deuoured.
And so my Honourable good Lords, though your Lordships haue in the matter of marriage hitherto kept your selues pure Virgins, yet take yee good heed you keepe your Virginity still. For there be some, who first by procuring your Lordshipps to be present at the Coronation, will next be egging you on, to preach for the setting of it forth, and finally compell you to publish Bookes vnto all the world in defence therof. These are they that be desirous to defloure you, and then when they haue defloured you, they will not fayle, soone after to deuoure you. Now my Lordes, it lyeth not in my power, but that they may deuoure me; but God being still my good Lord, I will so prouide, that they shall neuer defloure me.
And had he not byn one indeed, who in all his actions, and most great affairs as well for the king as the realme during many years, was euer free fro[m] all corruption, by doing wrong, or taking bribes; it would without doubt in this so troublesome a tyme, of the Kings displeasure agaynst him, haue beene deeply layd to his charge, therby to haue found any the least hole in his coate. But he alwayes kept himselfe so cleare, euen of suspition of any such thing, that no man was once able therwith to blemish him; although the same was shrewdly many times attempted, specially in the case of one Parnell, against whome Syr Thomas More whilst he was Lord Chancellour, in the suite of one Vaugham (_Parnels_aduer[s]ary) had passed a sentence or decree, by way of Iustice.
Whereupon _Parnell_made a most grieuous complaynt vnto the King, that _Syr Thomas More_had, for passing of the foresaid decree, taken from the said Vaughan, vnable for the Gowte to trauell abroad himselfe) by the handes of his wife, a fayre great gilded cup for a bribe. Vpo[n] this accusation Syr Thomas More was by the Kings appointment, called before the whole body of the Counseil, where this matter was heynously laid to his charge. He forthwith confessed, that for asmuch as that cup was lo[n]g after the passing of a foresaid decree, brought vnto him for a new yeares gift, he at the Gentlewoma[n]s importune pressing it vpon him, of courtesy refused not to receiue it.
Then the Earle of Wiltshire, Syr Thomas Bullen, Father to Queene _Anne,_a very great enemy to Syr Thomas More, and chiefe complayner of this busines agaynst him to the King, with much reioycing said vnto the Lords there present: Loe, did I not tell you, my Lordes, that you should find this matter true?
Whereupon when Syr Thomas More had stood silent a while, smyling vpon the Lord of Wiltshire, he at length earnestly desired their Lordships, that as they had courteously heard him tell the one part of his Tale, so they would be pleased to vouchsafe him the indifferent hearing of the other.
Then he further declared vnto their Honours, That albeit indeed, he had with much intreaty receyued the cup, yet immediatly thereupon he caused his Butler to fill it with wyne, and of that cup he dranke vnto her, and she pledged him. Then as freely as her husband had giuen it vnto him, euen so, freely gaue he the same backe agayne to her, to giue vnto her husband for his New-yeares gift, which at his request (though much agaynst her will) she receyued agayne; as herself and diuers others there present, were deposed before them. So was this great Mountayne, was turned presently into Molehill.
So likewise at another time, vpon a New yeares day, there came vnto _Syr Thomas More_one _M._rs Croker a rich widdow, for whome with no small paynes, he had passed a Decree in the Chauncery, agaynst the Lord _Arundell,_to present him with a payre of gloues, and fourty pou[n]ds in Angells within them, for a New yeares gift. Of whom he thankefully receiuing the Gloues, but refusing the money, said vnto her: Mistresse, since it were agaynst good manners to refuse a Gentlewomans New-yeares gift, I am content to take your Gloues, but for your Money I vtterly refuse it; & much against her mynd, he restored her the Gold backe agayne.
Another tyme also one _M._rs Gresham hauing a cause depending before him in the Chauncery, sent him for a New years gift a fayre Gilded cup: The fashon whereof he very well liking, caused one of his owne cups (though not to his mynd of so good a fashon, yet much better in value) to be brought forth of his Chamber, which he willed the Messenger in recompence to redeliuer vnto his Mistresse, for with other condition he would in no wise receiue it.
Now when the King plainly saw, that he could not by any meanes wyn _Syr Thomas More_to his syde, he went about by terror, and threates to inforce him thereunto; the beginning wherof, was occasioned in this manner. There was a certayne Nunne dwelling in Canterbury, commonly called The holy Mayd of Kent, who for the exteriour shew of her Vertue, and Holinesse, grew into great esteeme amongst the common People first, and then amongst others and for that cause many Religious persons, many Doctors of Diuinity, and diuers others of very great accompt of the Lady vsed to resort vnto her. This holy woman affirmed, to haue had a Reuelation from heauen, to giue the King warning of his wicked life, and of the abuse of the Sword and Authority committed vnto him by God; and vnderstanding, the Bishop of _Rochester,_Doctor Fisher, to be a man of notable vertuous life & great learning, she repayred to Rochester, and there disclosed to him her sayd Reuelation, desiring his aduice and counsell therein; which the Bishop well perceiuing might stand with the lawes of God, and holy Church, aduised her (as she intended,[)] and had warning to do, to go vnto the King herselfe, and declare vnto him, all the circumstances therof. Whereupon she went, and told vnto his Maiesty her said Reuelation, and so returned home to Canterbury.
Within a short tyme after, this so said Holy Nunne, made a iorny to the Monastery of _Sion_situated vpo[n] the Thames, a litle aboue London, & by meanes of one M. Reynolds, a Father of the same house, visited the Religious therof. At which tyme it happened Syr Thomas More to be at Sion visiting some of his aquaintance there, & talking with the Nunne about some of her Reuelations, especially that which did concerne the Kings Supremacy and Marriage: which (he sayd) he might freely and safely do, without any daunger of the law, by reason the same was then neither established by Oath (as he himselfe had lo[n]g before prognosticated, neuerthelesse in all the discourse, and passages of speach which he had with the said Nunne (as it afterward appeared) he had carried himselfe so discreetly, that he rather deserued co[m]mendatio[n]s, the[n] blame.
At the Parlament following, there was a bill put vp for the attaynting of the forsaid Nunne of Canterbury, & of some other Monasticall persons, of High Treason: as also Bishop Fisher of _Rochester, Syr Thomas More,_and diuers others, of Misprision of Treason. With which the King verily thought Syr Thomas More would be so terrified, that it would inforce him to relent, & co[n]descend to his purpose; wherin, as it seemed, his Grace was much mistaken.
To this Bill, Syr Thomas More was suiter to be receiued personally to make answere for himselfe in his owne defence. But the King not liking that, assigned the Bishop of Canterbury, the Lord Cha[n]cellour, the Duke of _Norfolke,_and M. Cromwell at a day, and place appoynted, to call Syr Thomas More before them. At which tyme M. Roper thinking his Father had now fit opportunity, aduised him to labour these Lords for the help of his discharge, forth of the Parlament Bill, who answered M. Roper, that he would.
At his comming before the Lordes, according to theyr appoyntment, they intertayned him very friendly, and willed him to sit downe with them, which in no wise he would. The[n] began the Lord Chancellour to declare vnto him, how many wayes the King had shewed his loue and fauour towards him; how gladly he would haue had him continue in his Office; and how willing he would haue ben to haue heaped more Benefits vpon him; how he could aske no worldly Honour, or Profit at the Kings handes, that was likely to be denyed him; hoping by this declaration of the Kings fauours towards him, to induce him him to fauour his Highnes busines of the mariage. And lastly he requested his consent vnto no more, but what the Parlament, the Bishops, and Vniuersityes had allready admitted, and confirmed.
To this Syr Thomas More mildly made answere, saying; There is no man liuing, my Lordes that would with better will, do the thing that might be acceptable to the Kings Highnes then my selfe, who needes must co[n]fesse his manifold goodnesse, and bountifull benefits, most benignly bestowed vpon me: Howbeit I verily thought, that I should neuer haue heard more of this matter, considering, that from time to time, euen from the first beginning heerof I haue declared my mind playnly & truly to his Maiesty, which his Highnes euer seemed to me, like a most gracious Prince, very well to accept, neuer mynding (as he said) to molest me further therewith. Since which tyme I could neuer find further matter, that was able to moue me to any other change; which if I could, there is not a man in all the wor[l]d that would haue beene more glad therof, then my selfe.
Many thinges more, of like sort, were heere vttered on both sides: and in the end when they saw they could not by any manner of persuasion, remoue him from his former determination; then they began to touch him more neerely, telling him, that the Kinges Maiesty had giuen them in commandeme[n]t, if they could by no gentle meanes wyn him, to charge him in his Name with great Ingratitude, & that there was neuer found seruant to his Soueraigne so vngrateful, nor subiect to his Prince so trayterous as he: for that by his subtile & sinister sleights he had most vnnaturally vrged, & procured his Maiesty to set forth a Booke, Of the Assertion of the seauen Sacraments, and mayntaynance of the Popes Authority, and therby caused him, to his great dishonour throughout Christendome, to put a sword into the Popes handes, to fight agaynst himselfe.
Now when they had thus laid forth these, and all other such like terrours &, threates which they cold imagine agaynst him; My Lordes quoth he, these be but Bugbeares, only to affright Children, and not me. But to answere that, wherewith you do chiefly accuse me, I beleaue that the Kings Hignes, out of his Honour, will neuer lay any such thing to my charge, for there is no man in the world, that can in that poynt, say more in my excuse, then his Maiesty himselfe who knoweth right well, that I neuer was his procurer, or Counsellour therevnto, but after it was finished by his Highnes appoyntment, and consent of the makers therof, I only was made vse of, as a setter out, or a placer of some principall matters therein contayned; wherein, when I found the Popes Authority so highly aduanced, and with so strong Arguments mightily defended, I said vnto his Grace: I must put your Highnes in reme[m]brance of one thing, and that is this, The Pope as your Highnes well knoweth is a Prince as you are, & in league with all other Christian Princes, it may hereafter so fall out, that your Highnes and he may vary vpon some poynts of league, whereupon may grow breach of amity, yea and warrs betwixt you; I thinke it therefore best that, that place be amended, & his Authority more aduisedly touched. Nay (quoth the King) that shall it not, for we are so much bound to the Sea of Rome, that we cannot do to much honour thereunto. The[n] did I further put his Maiesty in remembrance of the Statute of Præmunire, wherby a great part of the Popes Prouisions, were pared away. To that his Maiesty answered, that what soeuer impediment were to the contrary, yet should his Authority be set forth to the vttermost: for (quoth he) we receiued fro[m] that Sea, this our Crowne Imperiall; of which thing vntill his Grace told me with his own mouth I neuer heard before. So that I trust when his Maiesty shalbe once truly informed of this, and call to remembrance my plaine and honest dealing therein, his Grace will neuer speake of it more, but rather quite cleare me thereof himselfe. Thus ended the Assembly for that tyme, & the Lords somwhat displeasantly departed.
Then tooke Syr Thomas More his boat homwards to his house at _Chelsey,_togeather with M. Roberts, and by the way was very pleasant. Which M. Roper_seeing, was very glad therof, hoping that he had gotten himselfe discharged out of the Parlament bill. When he was landed, and come home to his house, they went into his Garden, and there walked togeather a good while. Now_M. Roper being very desirous to know how he had sped, said: I trust Syr, all [is] well, because you are so merry. It is so indeed sonne Roper (quoth he) I thanke our Lord God. Are you then put out of the Parlament bill Syr (quoth M. Roper?) By my troth sonne Roper (quoth he,) I neuer remembred it. Neuer remembred it, Syr, (quoth M. Roper) a matter that toucheth your selfe so neere, & all vs for your sake. Truly, Syr, I am very sorry to heare it, for I verily hoped, when I saw you so merry, that all had ben well. Well, well Sonne Roper (quoth he) wilt thou know why I was so merry indeed? That would I gladly Syr, said M. Roper. In good Fayth, Sonne Roper, I reioyced that I had giuen the Deuill a foule fall, and that with these Lordes, I had gone so farre, as without great shame I could not go backe agayne. At which wordes M. Roper waxed sad, and then they went both in.
Now, vpon the report made by the Lord Chancellour, and the other Lords, to the King of their former discourse, and proceedings with _Syr Thomas More,_the King was so highly offeneded with him, that he playnly told them, he was fully purposed that the aforesaid Parlament-Bill shold proceed forth agaynst him. To whome the Lord Cha[n]cellour, and the rest of the Lordes said, they perceiued the vpper House so precisely bent to heare him spake for himselfe & to make answere in his owne defence, that if her were not put out of the bill, it would without fayle be reiected of all. But for all this, the King would needes haue his owne will therein, or else (quoth he) at the passing therof, I will my selfe be personally present. Then did the Lord Chancellour, and the rest (seeing him so vehemently bent therein) vpon their knees, beseech his Grace in most humble wise, to forbeare the same, considering, that if he should in his owne presence receiue an ouerthrow, it would not only encourage his Subiects euer after to contemne him; but also throughout all Christendome, redound to his great dishonour. Adding thereunto, that they doubted not in tyme, to find some other matter against him, which might serue his Maiesties purpose far better; for in this former busines, especially that of the Nunne, he is accompted (quoth they) so innocent and cleare, that he is iudged of most men, rather worthy of praise, then reprehension. Whereupon at length, through their earnest perswasions the King was contented to yield himselfe to their counsell.
On the Morrow after, M. Cromwell meeting with M. Roper in the Parlament house, willed him to tell his Father, that he was put out of the Parlament Bill; which newes M. Roper sent home immediatly to his wife, willing her to make the same knowne unto her Father. Whereof when he heard: In good fayth Megge (quoth he) _Quod differtur, non aufertur._After this it happened that the Duke of Norfolke & Syr Tho. More met togeather, and falling into familiar talke, the Duke said unto him; By the Masse M. More, it is perilous striuing with Princes, & therefore I would wish you somewhat to inclyne to the Kings pleasure: For by Gods body, M. More, Indignatio Principis Mors est. Is that all my Lord, (quoth he?) Then in good Fayth, there is no more difference betweene your Grace and me, but that I may die to day, & you to morrow.
In this Parlament was a statute made for the Oath of Supremacy, and lawfulnes of the Kings Mariage; and within a while after all the Priests of Lo[n]don, and Westminster, & with them Syr Thomas More only, & no lay man besides, were cited to appeare at Lambeth, before the Bishop of _Canterbury,_the Lord Chancellour, and Secretary Cromwell, Commissioners, appoynted there to tender the Oath vnto them.
Vpon this strange citation Syr Tho. More, as his accustomed ma[n]ner euer was, alwayes before he entred into any busines of importance (as when he was first chosen of the Kings priuy Cou[n]cell, when he was sent _Embassador,appoynted Speaker of the Parlament-House, created lord Chancellour, or when he tooke any weighty matter vpon him) prepared himselfe to Confession, heard Masse, and was housled, in the Morning, the selfe same day that he was to appeare before the Lordes at Lambeth.
And as he vsed often at other tymes of his departure from his wife and Children (whome he tenterly loued) to haue them bring him to his boate, & there to kisse them all, and bid them farewell; at this tyme he would not suffer any of them to follow him further than his gate, where with a heauy hart (as by his countenance appeared) he tooke his leaue of them, & with_M. Roper and foure seruants entred into his boate, towardes _Lambeth:_wherein sitting still sadly for a while, at last he rounded _M. Roper_in the eare, & said: Sonne Roper, I thanke our Lord God, the field is won[n]e. What he ment by that, they did not well vnderstand, yet loath to seeme ignorant, M. Roper said; Syr, I am very glad thereof. And as they after coniectured, it was for that the loue he had to God, wrought in him so effectually, that it vtterly conquered all his carnall affections.
At his comming to Lambeth, he behaued himselfe so discreetly before the Commissioners, at the ministration of the forsaid Oath, (as may be seene at large in certayne Letters of his sent to _M.rs_Roper, extant in a printed volume of his works) as they had litle, or nothing to lay vnto his charge; yet durst they not, as it seemed, dismisse him, but com[m]itted him to the custody of the Abbot of Westminster for 4. or 5. dayes; during [which] tyme the King consulted with his Counsell, what order were best to be taken with him. And albeit in the beginning, it was resolued that he should vpo[n] his oath be discharged; yet did Queene _Anne,through her importunate clamours, so farre preuaile with the King against him, that contrary to the Commissioners expectation, he was committed to the Tower.
Now, as he was conducted thitherward by water, wearing a chayne of gold about his Necke, M. Richard Cromwell, who had the charge of conueying him to prison, aduised him to send home his Chayne to his wife, or to some of his Childre[n]. Nay (quoth he) that will I not, for if I were taken in the field by myne enemy, I would he should fare somwhat the better for me. At his landing at the Tower gate, M. Lietenant was ready there to receiue him, where the Gentleman Porter demanded of him his vpper garme[n]t. Why heere it is (quoth he) & presently tooke off his Cap, and deliuered it vnto him, saying; I am very sorry M. Porter, that it is no better for you. Nay (quoth the Porter) I must haue your Gowne Syr. O I cry you mercy, good_M. Porter, for now indeed I remember, that my Cappe is not my vpper garme[n]t, but only the thatch of my poore old Tenement.
So then was he by M. Lieutenant conueyed to his Lodging, where he called vnto him one Iohn Wood his owne seruant, appoynted there to attend him, who could neither write nor reade, and swore him before the Lieutenant, that if he should heare or see at any time, his Maister write, or speake any manner of thing agaynst the King, Councell, or State of the land, he should reueale it to the Lieutena[n]t, that the Lieutena[n]t might make the same knowne to the Counsell.
After he had remayned in the Tower about a moneth, his daughter Roper(hauing greatly desired to see her Father) made earnest suite, & got leaue to visit him: at whose co[m]ming (after the saying of the seauen Psalmes & Letanyes, which he was euer accustomed to say with her) before they fell into discourse of any other matter, among other speaches he said vnto her: I belieue Megge, that they who haue put me heere, thinke they haue done me a great displeasure: But I assure thee on my fayth (myne owne good daughter) if it had not ben for my wife & you my Children, whom I acco[m]pt the chiefe part of my charge, I would not haue failed long ere now, to haue inclosed my selfe in a straiter roome than this. But since I am come hither, without myne owne desert, I trust that God of his goodnes will disburden me of my care, and with his gracious help supply my want amongst you. And I find no cause (I thanke God Megge) to reckon my selfe in worse case heere, then in myne owne house. For me thinkes in this case, God maketh me euen a wanton, setting me vpon his knee, and dandling me.
Thus by his patient suffering, and cheerfull demeanour in all his tribulations and disasters, it plainly appeared, that nothing seemed painfull vnto him, but rather a profitable Exercise, for the good of his soule. Then whe[n] he had questioned a while with his daughter about his wife[,] Children, and houshold state in his absence, he asked her how Queene Anne did? Neuer better Father (quoth she.) Neuer better Megge (quoth he:) Alas, alas, it pittieth me to remember into what misery (poore Soule) she will shortly come.
After this, M. Lieutenant co[m]ming one [day to] his chamber to visit him, & recou[n]ting the many courtesies, and benefits that he had heertofore receiued at his hands, and therefore how much the more bound he was to entertayne him friendly, & make him good chere, which the case standing as it did, he could not (as he would) do, without the Kings displeasure & therfore hoped he would accept of his good will and of such poore cheere as he had. Maister Lieutenant (quoth Syr Thomas More) now verily I belieue, all you haue said to be true, for which I do most hartily thanke you. And assure your selfe, M[.] Lieutenant, when you see me mislike my cheere, then thrust me out of your doores, as a very vnthankefull Guest.
Now wheras the Oath aboue mentioned made to confirme the Kg. Supremacy & mariage, was co[m]prised in very few wordes, the Lord Chauncellour & Secretary Cromwell did of their owne heads, adde more words vnto it, to make it appeare of more force, and to sound better in the Kings eare: which Oath so amplified, they had caused to be ministred to Syr Thomas More, & to al others throghout the Kingdome. The which Syr Thomas More perceiuing said one day to his daughter _Roper:_I may tell thee Megge, they that committed me hither for refusing the Oath, not agreable to the Statute, are not by their own law able to iustify my impriso[n]ment. And surely Daughter, it is great pitty, that any Christia[n] Prince should, by so flexible a Counsell ready to follow his affections, & by so weake a Clergy wanting grace to stand constantly to their Religion, with flattery be so grossely abused. But at length the Lord Chancellour, & M. Secretary espying their owne ouersight in that behalfe, were glad afterwards to find a meanes that another Statute should be made for the confirmation of the sayd Oath so amplifyed, with theyr additions.
And wheras Syr Thomas More had made a conueyance for the disposing of his la[n]des, reseruing onely vnto himself, an estate for terme of life, and after his decease some part therof to his wife & children, & other some to his Sonne Ropers wife, for a ioynture, in consideration she was an Inheritresse in possessio[n] of more then a hundred pounds by the yeare: And likewise other some to M. Roper & his wife in recompence of their mariage money, with diuers remaynders ouer and besides: All which co[n]ueyances and assurances, being made and finished longe before any matter (wherof he was attaynted) could be made an offence: yet by Statute were they now al clearly auoyded, and all the lands that he had in such sort assured vpon his wife and children by the sayd co[n]ueya[n]ces (co[n]trary to order of the lawes) taken from them, and forfayted into the Kings handes, except only that portion which he had assured vpo[n] M. Roper& his wife, by reaso[n] that after the first conueya[n]ce, which was reserued to himselfe for the terme of his life, he had, vpon further consideration, within two dayes after, by another conueyance giuen the same immediatly to M. Roper and his wife, in present possession. So as the Statute had only auoyded the first conueyance, forfaiting no more vnto the King the[n] had byn passed therin; and the second conueyance passed to M. _Roper_and his wife ( being dated two daies after) falling without the compasse of the law, was adiudged good, and valide.
Syr Thomas More being now prisoner in the Tower, and one day looking forth at his window, saw a Father of Syon (named M. Reynolds) and three monkes of the Charterhouse, going out of the Tower to execution, for that they had refused the Oath of Supremacy: wherupo[n], he languishing [as] it were with desyre to beare them company sayd vnto his daughter _Roper_then present: Looke Megge, doest thou not see that these blessed Fathers be now going as cherefully to their deathes, as Bridegromes to their marriages? By which thou mayst see (myne owne dere daughter) what a great difference there is betweene such as haue spent all their dayes in a religiious, hard, and penitentiall life, and such as haue, in this world, like wretches (as thy poore Father heere hath done) consume all their tyme in pleasure and ease. For which God, out of his gracious Goodness wil no lo[n]ger suffer them to remayne heere in this vale of misery and iniquity, but wil speedily translate them he[n]ce into the fruitio[n] of his euerlasting Deity. Whereas thy sily Father, Megge, who like a most wicked caytiffe hath passed the whole course of his miserable life most sinfully, God thinking him not worthy to attayne so soone thereunto, leaueth here him in the world, to be further tryed, plunged [and] turmoyled in misery.
Within a whyle after, M. Secretary came to him from the King, and pretending much friendship towardes him said, that the Kings Highnes was his good and gracious Lord, not mynding any matter thenceforward, wherein he should haue cause of scruple to trouble his conscience. As soone as _M. Secretary_was departed to expresse what comforte he receiued of his speaches, he tooke a coale (for pen & inke then he had none) & wrote these lynes following.
Eye-flattering Fortune, looke thou n'ere so fayre,
Nor n'ere soe pleasantly, begin to smyle,
As though thou wouldst my ruines all repayre;
During my life thou shalt not me beguile.
Trust I shall, God, to enter in a while
Thy Heauen of Heauens, sure and vniforme.
Euer after a calme, looke I for a storme.
Now Syr Thomas More, had continued almost six weekes in the Tower, before the Lady his wife could obteyne licence to visit him. Who at her first comming to him (like a good simple worldly woman) bluntly saluted him in this manner: What a good-eare M. More, I meruaile that you who haue ben alwayes hitherto taken for so wise a man, will now so play the foole to ly here in this close filthy prison, and be content to be thus shut vp amongst mice and rats, when you might be abroad at your liberty, with the fauour and good will both of the King and his Counsell, if you would but do as all the Bishops, & best learned of the Realme haue done? And since you haue at Chelsey a right fayre house, your Library, your Bookes, your Garden, your Orchard, & all other necessaryes ha[n]dsome about you; where also you might, in the co[m]pany of me your wife, Children and houshold be merry; I muse what a Gods Name you meane thus fo[n]dly to tarry here?
After he had a while quietly heard her, with a cheerefull cou[n]tenance he said vnto her. I pray thee good _M_rs Alice tell me one thinge. What is that, quoth she? Is not this house as neere Heauen as myne owne? whereto after her accustomed homely fashion not liking such speaches she answered: Tille-valle, Tille-valle. How say you _M_rs Alice, is it not so (quoth he?) _Bone Deus, bone Deus,_man, will your old Tricks neuer be left (quoth she againe?) Well then _M_rs Alice, said he, if it be so, it is very well; for I see no great cause, why I should ioy much either in my gay house, or in any thing belonging thereunto, when as if I should but liue seauen yeares vnder ground, and then rise againe and come thither, I should not fayle to find some dwelling therein, that would bid me get out of doores, & tell me it were none of myne. What cause then haue I to loue such a house, as would so soone forget his old Maister? So as her perswasions moued him nothing at all.
Not lo[n]g after this there came vnto him, the Lord Chancellour, the Dukes of _Norfolke,_and Suffolke, with Maister Secretary, and diuers of the priuy Counsell, at two seuerall tymes, who vsed all possible policy to procure him either precisely to Co[n]fesse the Supremacy, or directly to deny it. Whereunto (as appeareth by the booke of his Examinations) they could neuer bring him, or iustly taxe him for the contrary.
Shortly heereupon, one M. Rich (created afterwardes Lord Rich) that then was newly made the Kings Sollocitour, Syr Richard Southwell, & one M. Palmer seruant to the Secretary; were sent vnto Syr Thomas More vnder colour of fetching his Bookes away from him. And whilst Syr Richard Southwell, and M. Palmer were busy in packing them vp, M. Rich pretending friendly discourse with him, amongst other things (of set purpose as it seemed) said thus vnto him: For as much as it is well knowne M. More, that you are a man both wise, and well learned, as well in the lawes of the Realme, as otherwise, I pray you therefore, let me in courtesy, and good will be so bold to put you this case. Admit there were Syr an Act of Parlament, that all the Kingdome should take me for King, would not you then _M. More,_take me for King? Yes, marry, (quoth Syr Thomas More) that would I. Then I put case further (quoth M. Rich: Admit there were an Act of Parlament, that all the Realme should take me for Pope, would you not then _M. More_take me for Pope? For answere (quoth Syr Thomas More) to your first case, the Parlament may well (M. Rich) meddle with the state of temporall Princes; but to make answere to your later case: Suppose the Parlament would make a law, that God should not be God: would you M. _Rich,_then say, that God were not God? No Syr (quoth he) that would I not. No more (quoth Syr Thomas More) as M. Rich after reported of him, could the Parlament make the King supreme head of the Church. And so M. Rich, with the rest departed.
Now vpon the only report of this speach of Syr Thomas More was indited of Treason, vpon the Statute, whereby it was made Treason to deny the King to be Supreme head of the Church: unto which Inditement, were put these heynous words, Maliciously, Traitrously, and _Diabolically._Whereupon presently after he was brought fro[m] the Tower to answere the Inditement at the Kings Bench barre; & being there arraigned before the Iudges, he openly told the[m]; That he could be content to haue abiden the rigour of the law by this their inditement, but then he should be driuen to confesse falsely of himselfe the matter indeed, which was the denyall of the Kings Supremacy, and which he protested was most vntrue. Wherefore he pleaded therto not guilty, and so reserued vnto himselfe aduantage to be taken of the body of the matter, after verdict, to auoyd that Inditement. And moreouer he added; That if these only odious tearmes Maliciously, Trayterously,& Diabolically were left out of the Inditement, he saw nothing therin, wherwith iustly to charge him.
Then for proofe alleaged vnto the Iury, that Syr Thomas More was guilty of this Treason, M. Rich was called forth, to giue euidence vpon his Oath, as he did against him. To whome, hauing sworne, _Syr Thomas More_spake in this wise: If this Oath of yours be true M. Rich, then I pray God, that I may neuer see him in the face in his Kingdome; which I would not say, were it otherwise, to gayne the whole world. Then recounted he to the Court, the whole discourse, of all their Conference, and putting of Cases in the Tower, according to the Truth. And turning to _M. Rich_he said: In good fayth M. Rich, I am more sory for your Periury then for myne owne perill. And besides, you shall vnderstand, that neither I, nor any man else to my knowledge, euer tooke you to be a man of such credit, as to communicate vnto you any matter of importance; and (you well know) I haue ben acquainted with you no small while, and haue knowne you, & your Conuersation from your very youth; for we dwelled lo[n]g together in one Parish; where, as your selfe can tell best, (I am sory you compell me so to say) you were esteemed very light of your tongue, a great Dicer, and of no commendable Fame, or Name: Can it therefore seeme likely to your Lordships, that I would in so weighty a matter, so vnaduisedly ouershoote my self, as to trust M. Rich (a man reputed alwayes by me, and others for one of litle truth, as your Lordships haue heard) so farre, aboue my Soueraigne the King, or aboue any of his noble Counsellours, that I would vtter vnto him the secrets of my Conscience, touching the Kings Supremacy? The speciall poynt and only marke so long aymed at in all my actions? The thing which I neuer did, or euer wold offer to the Kings Maiesty himselfe? or to any of his Honourable Counsell, as it is not vnknowne vnto your Honours, who sundry tymes haue byn sent vnto me, into the Tower from his Highnes owne person, for no other purpose? Can this in your Iudgments, my Lords, seeme to stand with truth, in any likelihood? And yet if I had so laid indeed (my Lordes) as M. Rich hath falsly sworne, since it was spoken, as he sayth, in familiar talke, affirming nothing, and only in putting of cases, without other displeasant circumstances, it cannot iustly be taken to be spoken Maliciously, and where there is no _Malice,_there can be no Offence.
And besides this (my Lordes,) I can neuer thinke, that so many worthy Bishops, so many honourable Personages, and so many other worshipfull, wise and well learned men, as were assembled at the making of that Law in the Parlament, euer meant to haue any man punished by death, in whome there could be found no _Malice:_for if Malice be taken for Sinne generally, then there is no man that can excuse himselfe therof: Si Dixerimus, quód peccatum non habemus &c. And as for the terme Maliciously, it is not in this Statute to be taken for Materiall; as in like case you know the terme Forcible, is meant in Forcible Entry; by which Statute if a man enter patiently, and put not his Aduersary out_forcibly,_it is no offence: but if he put him out forcibly, by that Statute it is an Offence, and so shalbe punished by this terme forcible.
Moreouer (my Lords) the manifold goodnes of the Kings Highnes himselfe, who hath ben so many wayes my singular good Lord, & gracious soueraygne, who hath alwaies deerly affected me, and euen at my first coming vnto his Royal seruice, aduan[n]ced me to the dignity of his Honourable priuy Counsell, vouchsafing to admit me afterward to Offices of great credit and Honour, and lastly, to exalt me to that weighty roome of his Maiestyes high Chauncellour, (the like whereof he neuer did to any temporal man his subiect before) next to his owne Royal person the highest Office in this noble kingdome, so farre aboue my merit or desert, and this for the space of aboue twenty years togeather, shewing his continuall fauour towards me, vntill at myne owne poore suite (giuing me his gracious licence to bestow the litle residue of my life, in the seruice of God, for the good of my soule) it pleased his highnes of his especiall goodnes, to discharge and disburden me therof: now all this his highnes fauour (I say) thus bou[n]tifully extended, & so long continued towardes me considered, as it ought, in my mind is sufficient to co[n]vince this slaunderous surmise of M. Rich, so wrongfully sworne agaynst me.
When Syr Thomas More had thus spoken, M. Rich seing himselfe so disproued, and his credit so fouly disgraced, caused Sir Richard Southwell, &M. Palmer (who were also present at the time of their Conference in his Chamber) to be sworne, what wordes had passed betwixt the[m]. Whereupon M. Palmer vpon his deposition said; That he was so busy, in putting vp Syr Thomas Mores Bookes into a sacke, that he tooke no heed of their speaches. Sir Richard Southwell likewise vpon his deposition said; That because he was only appoynted to looke vnto the conueya[n]ce of his Bookes, he gaue no great eare vnto what they sayd.
After this, many other reasons & arguments were alleadged by _Syr Thomas More,_in defence of his owne Innocency, & to the discredit of _M. Rich,_in the forsaid point; Notwithstanding all which, the Iury found him guilty, and immediatly vpon their verdict, the Lord Chauncellour (for that businesse there chiefe commissioner) beginning to prceed to Iudgment against him,Syr Tho. More said vnto him.
My Lord, when I my selfe was towardes the Law, the ma[n]ner in such cases was, to aske the Prisoner before sentence of Co[n]demnatio[n], why Iudgme[n]t should not be giue[n] agaynst him? Whervpon the Lord Cha[n]cellour staying the sentence (wherein he had partly begun to proceed) demaunded of him, What he was able to say for himselfe, to the contrary? Then _Syr Tho. More,_in this sort, most humbly made answere.
For asmuch as, my Lordes, (quoth he) this Iudgment is grounded vpon an Act of Parlament directly repugna[n]t to the lawes of God & his holy Church the supreme gouernement of which, or any part thereof, no temporall Prince may presume by any temporall law, to take vpon him, as rightfully belonging to the Sea of Rome: a spirituall preheminence conferred, and granted, by the mouth of our Sauiour himselfe, being personally present vpon the Earth, only vnto S. Peter the Apostle, and his lawfull Successors, Bishops of the same Sea by special prerogatiue; It is not therefore sufficient inough for one Christian Catholike man to charge, and conuince another Christian Catholike man, & say, that this Realme of England(being but a member, & a small part only of the Church of Christ) hath power and authority to make a particular law, disagreable to the generall law of Christs Vniuersall Catholique Church; no more then the Citty of _London,_being but one poore member in respect of the whole Kingdome, might make a law agaynst an Act of Parlament, to bind the whole Realme. And further he shewed, that it was co[n]trary both to the ancient Lawes, & Statutes of our owne Realme not the[n] repealled, as they might well see in Magna Carta; Quod Ecclesia libera sit, & habeat omnia iura integra, & libertates suas illæsas; and contrary likewise to that sacred Oath, which the Kings Highnes himselfe, and euery other Christian Prince of this realme with great Solemnity, hath euer taken at their Coronation. Alleaging moreouer, that no more might this Realme of _England_refuse obediance to the Sea of Rome, then that the child might refuse Obedience to his naturall Father: for as S. Paul sayth of the Corinthians, I haue regenerated you my Children in Christ; so might holy S. Gregory Pope of Rome, of whome (by S. Augustine his messenger) we Englishmen first receiued the Christian fayth, truly say, You are my Children, because I haue giuen you euerlasting saluation (a farre, and better, & more noble Inheritance, then any carnall Father can leaue to his Children) & by regeneration made you my Children in Christ.
To this speach of Syr Thomas More the Lord Chancellor answered; That seeing all the Bishops, vniuersities, & best learned of the Realme, had to this Act of Parlament agreed, it was very greatly to be admired, that he alone, agaynst them all, would so stifly sticke, and argue so vehemently against it.
To this Syr Thomas More againe replyed, saying: If the nu[m]ber of Bishops and Vniuersities be so materiall, as your Lordship seemeth to take it; then I see little cause, my Lord, why that thing should make any change at all in my Co[n]science. For I nothing doubt (though not in this Realme, yet in Christendome round about, the nu[m]ber of learned men and Bishops to be farre greater, who will defend and maintayne the contrary; and therefore am I not bou[n]den to conforme my co[n]science to the Councell of one Kingdome, against the generall Cou[n]cell of Christendome.
Now, when Syr Thomas More for the auoyding of the Inditement had taken as many exceptions as he thought fit, the Lord Chancellour loath to haue the burden of that Iudgment wholy to depend vpon himselfe there openly asked the aduise of the Lord Fitz-Iames (then Lord chiefe Iustice of the Kings Bench and ioyned in commission with him) whether this Inditement were sufficient or no. Who, like a discreet man, answered: My Lordes, (quoth he) by S. Iulian (that was euer his oath) I must needs co[n]fesse, that if the Act of Parlament be not vnlawfull, then is not the Inditement in my conscience insufficient. Whereupon the Lord Chancellour said to the rest of the Commissioners; Loe my Lordes, you all heare what my Lord chiefe Iustice sayth, & so immediatly he gaue Iudgment. Which being done the commissioners, yet further offered him curteously, all fauourable audience, if he would speake: who answered; I haue no more to say my Lords, but that, like as the Blessed Apostle S. Paul (as we read in the Acts of the Apostles) was present, and consented to the death of S. Stephen, & kept their clothes that stoned him to death, and are now both holy Saintes in heauen; so I verily trust, and shall right hartily pray, that though your Lordships haue now heere in earth byn Iudges to my Condemnation, yet may we hereafter meete all togeather in euerlasting glory.
After his condemnation he departed from the Barre towardes the Tower agayne, led by Sir William Kingston (a tall strong and comely knight) Constable of the Tower, & his very deere frie[n]d, who whe[n] he had brought him a part of the way towardes the Tower, with a heauy heart, the teares running downe his cheekes, bad him farwell. The which Syr Thomas More seeing, comforted him with as good words as he could, saying: Good M. _Kingston,_trouble not your selfe, but be of good cheere, for I will pray for you, and my good Lady your wife that we may meete togeather in Heaue[n], where we shalbe merry for euer and euer. And a little after _Syr William Kingstone_meeting with M. Roper said: In good fayth M. Roper, I was ashamed of my selfe that at my departure from your Father, I found my selfe so feeble, and he so strong, that he was able to co[m]fort me, who should rather haue comforted him.
As Syr Tho. More came neere vnto the Tower, his Daughter Roper desirous to see her Father once more before his death, and to receaue his last blessing, gaue attendance about the Tower-wharfe, where he was to passe, & so soone as she saw him, hastning vnto him, without respect of care of herselfe, pressed in among the throng of the Guard, that with halbards went round about him, and there openly in the sight of all asking him blessing on her knees imbrac't him, tooke him about the necke, and kissed him. Who with a merry countenance, nothing at all deiected, gaue her his Fatherly blessing, with many Godly wordes of comfort, & the[n] departed.
So remayned he in the Tower more then eight dayes after his condemnation, from whence, the day before he suffered, he sent his shirt of hayre (not willing to haue it seene) to his said Daughter Roper, and a Letter written with a cole (printed in the aforesaid booke of his workes) expressing playnly the feruent desyre he had to suffer on the Morrow, in these wordes following: I comber you, good Margaret very much, but I wold be sorry if it should be any longer, then to Morrow; for to Morrow is _S. Thomas_of Canterbury his Eue, & therfore to Morrow long I to go to God; it were a day very meete, and conuenient for me. I neuer liked your manner better towardes me than when you last embraced me, and when daughterly loue, and deare charity, haue no leasure to looke towards wordly courtesy.
Vpon the Morrow, according as he wished, earely in the morning there came vnto him Syr Thomas Pope, his singular good friend, with a message from the King and Counsell, that he must before nine of the clocke, the same morning, suffer death, and he should forthwith prepare himself therto. M. Pope(quoth he) for your good tydings, I most hartily thanke you. I haue alwayes ben much bound to the Kings highnes, for the many benefits, and honours that he hath still from tyme to tyme most bountifully heaped vpon me; especially that it hath pleased his Maiesty, to put me here in this place, where I haue had conuenient tyme and leasure to remember my last End; and now most of all am I bound vnto his Grace, that I shall be shortly rid out of the miseries of this wretched life, & therfore will I not fayle to pray earnestly for his Grace, both heere & in the other world also.
The Kings pleasure is further (quoth Syr Thomas Pope) that at your execution you shall not vse many words. M. Pope (quoth he) you do well to giue me warning of the Kings pleasure, for otherwise I might haue offended his Maiesty agaynst my will. I had indeed purposed at that tyme, to haue spoken somwhat, but of no matter of offe[n]ce to his Grace; neuertheles what soeuer I intended, I am ready to conforme my selfe obediently to his commandement. And I beseech you, good M. Pope, be a means vnto his Maiesty that my daughter_Margaret_may be at my Buriall. The King is contented already (quoth Syr Thomas Pope) that your wife, children, and other of your Friends haue libery to be present therat. O how much am I bound vnto his grace (quoth Syr Thomas More) that vouchsafeth to haue so gracious a consideration of my poore Buriall. Whereupo[n] Syr Tho. Pope taking his leaue cold not forbeare weeping: which Syr Tho. More perceyuing, comforted him in this wise. Quiet your selfe good M. Pope, and be not discomforted, for I trust we shall one day se ech other in heaue[n], where we shal be sure to liue, and loue together in ioyfull blisse eternally.
Vpon Syr Thomas Popes departure, he changed himselfe into his best apparel, as one that had bin inuited to some sole[m]ne feast, which _M. Lieutenant_seing, aduised him to put it off, saying, that he that was to haue it, was but a Iauell. What M. Lieutena[n]t (quoth he) shall I accompt him a Iauell, that shall do me this day so singuler a benefit? Nay I assure you were it cloth of Gold, I would accompt it very well bestowed vpon him, as S. Cyprian did, who gaue to his Executioner, thirty peeces of Gold. Yet through the Lieutenants persuasions he altered his Apparell, and after the Exa[m]ple of the forsayd holy Martyr, he gaue that litle money he had left, to his Executioner, which was one Angell of Gold.
Then was he by M. Lieutena[n]t broght out of the Tower, & fro[m] thence led towards the place of Execution, vpon the Tower-hil, where going vp the Scaffold which was weake, & ready to fall, he said smilingly to M. Lieutena[n]t: I pray you, good M. Lieutena[n]t see me safe vp, & for my coming downe let me shift for my selfe. Then desired he all the people about him to pray for him, & to beare witnesse that he should now there suffer death in & for the fayth of the Holy Catholique Church. Which done he kneeled downe, and after his prayers sayd he turned to the Executioner, & with a chereful countenance spake thus merrily vnto him: Plucke vp thy spirits man, and be not afrayd to do thine Office: my necke is somwhat short, therefore take heed thou strikest not awry, for sauing of thine honesty: but if thou doest, vpon my word I wil not heerafter cast it in thy teeth. So, at one stroke of the Executioner, passed Syr Thomas More out of this world, to God, vpon the same day, which himselfe had most desired. 6. Iulij. 1535.
Soone after his death, intellige[n]ce therof came vnto the Emperour Charles the fifth, wherevpon he sent for Syr Thomas Eliot, then Embassadour there, & said vnto him: My Lord Embassadour, we vnderstand, that the King your Maister hath put his faythfull seruant, & graue Cou[n]sellour to death, Syr Thomas More. Whereunto _Syr Thomas Eliot_answered, that he had heard nothing thereof. Well (quoth the Emperour) it is too true, & this will I say, that if I had byn Maister of such a Seruant (of whose counsailes, and performance in State matters my selfe haue had these many yeares no small experience) I would rather haue lost the best Citty of my dominions the[n] such a worthy Counsellour. Which speach of the Emperour was afterward related by Syr Thomas Eliot vnto M. William Roper, & his wife, being with him at supper, in the presence of one M. Clement, M. Heywood, and their wiues.

F I N I S.