[A table being covered with a green carpet, a state cushion on it, and the Purse and Mace lying thereon, enter Sir Thomas More.]
MORE. it is in heaven that I am thus and thus; And that which we profanely term our fortunes Is the provision of the power above, Fitted and shaped just to that strength of nature Which we are borne withal. Good God, good Go, That I from such an humble bench of birth Should step as twere up to my country's head, And give the law out there! I, in my father's life, To take prerogative and tithe of knees From elder kinsmen, and him bind by my place To give the smooth and dexter way to me That owe it him by nature! Sure, these things, Not physicked by respect, might turn our blood To much corruption: but, More, the more thou hast, Either of honor, office, wealth, and calling, Which might excite thee to embrace and hub them, The more doe thou in serpents' natures think them; Fear their gay skins with thought of their sharp state; And let this be thy maxim, to be great Is when the thread of hayday is once 'spon, A bottom great wound up great undone.-- Come on, sir: are you ready?
[Enter Randall, attired like Sir Thomas More.]
RANDALL. Yes, my lord, I stand but on a few points; I shall have done presently. Before God, I have practised your lordship's shift so well, that I think I shall grow proud, my lord.
MORE. Tis fit thou shouldst wax proud, or else thou'lt ne'er Be near allied to greatness. Observe me, sirrah. The learned clark Erasmus is arrived Within our English court: last night I hear He feasted with our honored English poet, The Earl of Surrey; and I learned today The famous clark of Rotterdam will visit Sir Thomas More. Therefore, sir, take my seat; you are Lord Chancellor: dress your behavior According to my carriage; but beware You talk not over much, for twill betray thee: Who prates not much seems wise; his wit few scan; While the tongue blabs tales of the imperfect man. I'll see if great Erasmus can distinguish Merit and outward ceremony.
RANDALL. If I do not serve a share for playing of your lordship well, let me be yeoman usher to your sumpter, and be banished from wearing ofa gold chain forever.
MORE. Well, sir, I'll hide our motion: act my part With a firm boldness, and thou winst my heart.
[Enter the Shrieve, with Faulkner a ruffian, and Officers.] How now! what's the matter?
FAULKNER. Tug me not, I'm no bear. 'Sblood, if all the dogs in Paris Garden hung at my tail, I'd shake 'em off with this, that I'll appear before no king christened but my good Lord Chancellor.
SHRIEVE. We'll christen you, sirrah.--Bring him forward. MORE. How now! what tumults make you?
FAULKNER. The azured heavens protect my noble Lord Chancellor! MORE. What fellow's this?
SHRIEVE. A ruffian, my lord, that hath set half the city in an uproar. FAULKNER. My lord--SHRIEVE. There was a fray in Paternoster-row, and because they would not be parted, the street was choked up with carts.
FAULKNER. My noble lord, Paniar Allies throat was open. MORE. Sirrah, hold your peace.
FAULKNER. I'll prove the street was not choked, but is as well as ever it was since it was a street.
SHRIEVE. This fellow was a principal broacher of the broil.
FAULKNER. 'Sblood, I broached none; it was broached and half run out, before I had a lick at it.
SHRIEVE. And would be brought before no justice but your honor. FAULKNER. I am hailed, my noble lord.
MORE. No ear to choose for every trivial noise but mine, and in so full a time? Away! You wrong me, Master Shrieve: dispose of him At your own pleasure; send the knave to Newgate.
FAULKNER. To Newgate! 'sblood, Sir Thomas More, I appeal, I appeal from Newgate to any of the two worshipful Counters.
MORE. Fellow, whose man are you, that are thus lusty?
FAULKNER. My name's Jack Faulkner; I serve, next under God and my prince, Master Morris, secretary to my Lord of Winchester.
MORE. A fellow of your hair is very fit To be a secretary's follower!
FAULKNER. I hope so, my lord. The fray was between the Bishops' men of Ely and Winchester; and I could not in honor but part them. I thought it stood not with my reputation and degree to come to my questions and answers before a city justice: I knew I should to the pot.
MORE. Thou hast been there, it seems, too late already.
FAULKNER. I know your honor is wise and so forth; and I desire to be only cathecized or examined by you, my noble Lord Chancellor.
MORE. Sirrah, sirrah, you are a busy dangerous ruffian. FAULKNER. Ruffian!
MORE. How long have you worn this hair? FAULKNER. I have worn this hair ever since I was born.
MORE. You know that's not my question, but how long Hath this shag fleece hung dangling on they head?
FAULKNER. How long, my lord? why, sometimes thus long, sometimes lower, as the Fates and humors please.
MORE. So quick, sir, with me, ha? I see, good fellow, Thou lovest plain dealing. Sirrah, tell me now, When were you last at barbers? how long time Have you upon your head worn this shag hair?
FAULKNER. My lord, Jack Faulkner tells no Aesops fables: troth, I was not at barbers this three years; I have not been cut not will not be cut, upon a foolish vow, which, as the Destinies shall direct, I am sworn to keep.
MORE. When comes that vow out?
FAULKNER. Why, when the humors are purged, not this three years.
MORE. Vows are recorded in the court of Heaven, For they are holy acts. Young man, I charge thee And do advise thee, start not from that vow: And, for I will be sure thou shalt not shrieve, Besides, because it is an odious sight To see a man thus hairy, thou shalt lie In Newgate till thy vow and thy three years Be full expired.--Away with him!
FAULKNER. My lord--
MORE. Cut off this fleece, and lie there but a month. FAULKNER. I'll not lose a hair to be Lord Chancellor of Europe.
MORE. To Newgate, then. Sirrah, great sins are bred In all that body where there's a foul head. Away with him.
[Exeunt all except Randall.]
[Enter Surrey, Erasmus, and Attendants.]
