Moore.
God morrowe good sonne Roper, sit ^note good Madame, &fslash; lowe stooles
vppon an humble seate, the time so craues,
rest your good hart on earth, the roofe of graues.
you see the floore of greatnesse is vneuen, ^note
the Cricket and high throane alike neere heauen.
Now daughters, you that like to braunches spred,
and giue best shaddowe to a priuate house:
Be comforted my Girles, your hopes stand faire,
vertue breedes gentrie, she makes the best heire. both daugh. ^note
God morrow to your honor.

Moore.
Nay, good night rather,
your honor's creast-falne with your happie father.

Ro.
Oh what formalitie, what square obseruaunce:
liues in a little roome, heere, publique care,
gagges not the eyes of slumber: heere, fierce riott,
ruffles not proudely in a coate of trust,
whilste like a Pawne at Chesse, he keepes in ranck
with Kings and mightie fellowes, yet indeed
^notethose men [th
that stand on tip toe, smile to see
^note
him pawne his fortunes

Moore.
^noteTrue sonne Fol. 19^a
Nor does the wanton tongue heere skrewe it selfe
into the eare, that like a vise, drinkes vp
the yron instrument.

Lady.
we are heere at peace.

Moore.
Then peace good wife.

Lady.
ffor keeping still in compasse, (a straunge poynte
in times newe nauigation,) we haue sailde
beyond our course.

Moore.
haue doone.

Lady.
we are exilde the Courte.

Moore.
Still thou harpste on that,
Tis sinne for to deserue that banishment,
but he that nere knewe Courte courtes sweete content.

Lady.
Oh but deare husband.

Moore.
I will not heare thee wife,
The winding laborinth of thy straunge discourse,
will nere haue end. Sit still, and, my good wife,
entreate thy tongue be still: or credit me,
thou shalt not vnderstand a woord we speake
weele talke in Latine.
Humida vallis raros patitur fulminis ictus.
More rest enioyes the subiect meanely bred,
then he that beares the Kingdome in his head.
^noteGreat men ^note are still Musitians, else the world lyes,
^notethey learne lowe [noates] straines ^note after the noates that rise.

Ro.
Good Sir, be still your selfe, and but remember,
How in this generall Courte of short liu'de ^note pleasure
the worlde, creation is the ample foode,
that is digested in the mawe of tyme.
If man him selfe be subiect to such ruine,
How shall his garment then, or the loose pointes,
that tye respect ^note vnto his awefull place:
auoyde distruction? &fslash; Moste honord father in lawe,
the blood you haue bequeath'de these seuerall hartes
to nourishe your posteritie, stands firme

As as ^note with ioy you led vs first to rise
So with like harts weele lock preferments eyes.

15Q0009Moore.
^{note note}Close them not then with teares, for that ostent,
giues a wett signall of your discontent.
If you will share my fortunes, comfort then.
an hundred smiles for one sighe: what, we are men.
^noteResigne [wett] wett passion to these weaker eyes,
^notewhich prooues their sexe, but grauntes nere more wise.
Lets now suruaye our state: Heere sits my wife,
and deare esteemed issue, yonder stand
my loouing Seruaunts, now the difference
twixt ^note those and these. Now you shall heare me speake,
like Moore in melanchollie. &fslash; I conceiue, that Nature
hath sundrie mettalles, out of which she frames
vs mortalles, eche in valuation
out prizing other. Of the finest stuffe,
the finest features come, the rest of earth,
receiue base fortune euen before their birthe.
Hence slaues haue their creation and I thinke,
Nature prouides content for the base minde,
vnder the whip, the burden and the toyle,
their lowe wrought bodies drudge in pacience.
As for the Prince, in all his sweet gorgde mawe,
and his ranck fleshe that sinfully renewes
the noones excesse in the nights daungerous surfeits,
what meanes or miserie from our birth dooth flowe,
Nature entitles to vs, that we owe.
But we beeing subiect to the rack of hate,
falling from happie life to bondage state
hauing seene better dayes, now know the lack
of glorie, that once rearde eche high fed back.

^noteBut that in your age did nere viewe better,
challendge not ffortune for your thriftlesse debter.

Catesbie.
Sir, we haue seene farre better dayes, then these.

Moore.
I was the patrone of those dayes, and knowe,
those were but painted dayes, only for showe,
then greeue not you to fall with him that gaue them.
^notePro hæris ^note generosis seruis gloriosum mori.
deare Gough, thou art my learned Secretarie,
you M^r. Catesbie Steward of my house,
the rest (like you) haue had fayre time to growe
in Sun-shine of my fortunes. But I must tell ye,
Corruption is fled hence with eche mans office.
Bribes that make open traffick twixt the soule,
and netherland of Hell, deliuer vp
their guiltie homage to their second Lordes
then liuing thus vntainted, you are well
Trueth is no Pilot for the land of hell
Enter a seruaunt ^noteFol. 19^b
note
my Lord, there are new lighted at the gate,
^notethe Earles of Surrie of Shrewesburie,
and they expect you in the inner Courte.

Moore.
^noteEntreate their Lordships come into the hall.

Lady.
Oh God, what newes with them?

Moore.
why how now wife?
They are but come to visite their olde freend.

Lady.
Oh God, I feare, I feare.

Moore.
what shouldst thou feare fond woman?
Iustum si fractus illabatur orbis inpauidum ferient ruinæ.
Heere let me liue estraungde from great mens lookes,
they are like golden fflyes on leaden hookes.

Enter the Earles, Downes with his Mace, and attendants.

Shrew.
Good morrowe good S^r. Thomas.

Sur.
Good day good Madame. &fslash; kinde salutations.

Moore
welcome my good Lordes.
what ayles your Lordships looke so melanchollie?
Oh I knowe you liue in Courte, and the Courte diett,
is only freend to phisick.

Sur.
Oh Sir Thomas,
Our woordes are now the Kings, and our sad lookes,
the interest of your looue. &fslash; we are sent to you,
from our milde Soueraigne, once more to demaund,
If youle subscribe vnto those Articles,
he sent ye th'other day, be well aduisde,
ffor on mine honor Lord, graue doctor ffisher
Bishop of Rochester, at the selfe same instant,
attachte with you, is sent vnto the Tower,
for the like obstinacie, his Maiestie,
hath only sent you prisoner to your house.
But if you now refuse for to subscribe,
a stricter course will followe.

Lady.
Oh deare husband.

both daugh.
deare father. &fslash; kneeling and weeping.

Moore.
See my Lordes,
this partner, and these subiects to my fleshe:
prooue rebelles to my conscience: But my good Lordes
if I refuse, must I vnto the Tower?

Shrew.
you must my Lord, heere is an officer,
readie for to arrest you of high treason.

Lady & daugh.
Oh God, oh God.

Ro
Be pacient good Madame.

Moore.
I Downes, ist thou? I once did saue thy life,
when else by cruell riottous assaulte
thou hadst bin torne in pieces: thou art reseru'de,
to be my Sumner to yond spirituall Courte.
Giue me thy hand good fellowe, smooth thy face,

the diet that thou drinkst, is spic'de with mace,
and I could nere abide it, twill not disgest,
twill lye too heauie man, on my weake brest.

Shrew.
Be breefe my Lord, for we are limitted
vnto an houre.

Moore. ^note
vnto an houre? tis well,
[the bell (earths thunder) soone shall toale my knell.]

Lady.
Deare loouing husband, if you respect not me,
yet thinke vppon your daughters. &fslash; kneeling.

Moore.
wife, stand vp, ^note I haue bethought me,
and Ile now satisfye the Kings good pleasure &fslash; pondering to him selfe.

both daugh.
Oh happie alteration.

Shrew.
Come then, subscribe my Lord.

Sur.
I am right ^note glad of this your fayre conuerssion.

Moore.
Oh pardon me,
I will subscribe to goe vnto the Tower,
with all submissiue willingnes, and therto add
my bones to strengthen the foundation
of Iulius Cæsars pallace. Now my Lord,
Ile satisfye the King, euen with my blood,
Nor will I wrong your pacience: freend, doo thine office.

Dow.
Sir Thomas Moore, Lord Chauncellour of England, I arrest you in
the Kings name ^note of high treason.

Moore.
Gramercies, freend, [and let vs ^note
]
To a great prison, to discharge the strife,
commenc'de twixte conscience and my frailer life
Moore now must marche. Chelsey, adiewe, adiewe,
straunge farewell, thou shalt nere more see Moore true,
^notefor I shall nere see thee more: Servauntes farewell,
wife marre not thyne indifferent face, be wise,
Moores widd
husband, he must make thee rise.

Daughters
what's heere what's heere?
^noteMine eye had almost parted with a teare Fol. 20^a
deare Sonne, possesse my vertue, that I nere gaue,
graue Moore thus lightly walkes to a quick graue.

Ro.
Curæ leues loquuntur ingentes stupent.

Moore.
you that way in minde you my course in prayer:
by water I to prison, to heauen through ayre. —exeunt.

Previous section

Next section