THE HISTORY OF THE Life and Death OF Sr. THOMAS MORE, Lord High Chancellor OF ENGLAND IN King HENRY the Eights time.  
Collected by J. H. Gent.  
LONDON, Printed for George Eversden, and Henry Eversden, and are to be sold at the Maidenhead, and Grayhound in St. Paul's Churchyard, 1662.   

To my worthily most honoured Kinsman, C. HODDESDON Esq  
DEAR SIR,  
BEsides the Obligation I have to you by Nature, your Goodness hath given you the greatest interest that may be in my Time and Studies; of which if I have made any improvement, it is purely the Product and Influence of your Favour: The sense hereof hath made me prefix your Name to this Endeavour of mine, upon no other design then to make a public profession that myself and studies hold of you as of the chief Lord. And if the pettinesse of what I tendr you here, be apt to disable the justice of mine acknowledgements, you can inform yourself that a Rose or a pound of Cummin, hath often been all the Rent-service that hath been reserved upon Estates of no inconsiderable value.  
That, that I here present you with, is the Life of Sir Thomas More, one of the greatest Ornaments of the Law, a man of those high employments, and so great parts to go through them, that he can be no stranger to you, nor doubt of a kind reception, especially seeing you are of as eminent courtesy as parts. I shall not venture to give any further Character of him, or commend him to you, but rather on the contrary expect that he will plead the boldness of my Dedication, and assure myself a favourable acceptance of my poor labours from his vast worth.  
Sir I have dealt with him as his Nurse did, thrown him over the hedge into your Arms, lest his memory should perish in the waters of Lethe: Or as some common Soldier, who, if he have but common civility, finding some person of great quality lying amongst the dead bodies and ready to become one of them, will make a shift with a rude charity to lugger him out of the field, und think himself sufficiently rewarded with the honour of preserving his life: I, (as I traveled over the Memorials of the ancient Heroes) met with this worthy Knight breathing his last in the field of honour; and an ordinary sense of humanity engaged me (though unworthy that office) to rescue him from oblivion; unhandsomely I confess, but excusably, because I could no better, my weak capacity, in the very beginning of this enterprise, being overwhelmed with the plenty and copiousness of the subject.  
I am confident, King Henry the Eighth was not so much his enemy, as to forbid posterity to think well of him; nor his Sentence, so severe, as to condemn his Name as well as his Body, to an execution; his Name no more deserved to die, than my pen does to preserve it; yet (which affords me some comfort,) what the Reader wants in this Book, he'll find in his Life: with which also (I hope) I have a good plea for the inconsiderableness of any thing, which I can offer in return of all those obligations you have been pleased to lay upon me; which since I am never able to wipe off by strict and punctual satisfaction, I presume your goodness will by a favourable acceptation hold me discharged in Chancery:  
I am Sir your most affectionate Kinsman, to serve and honour you, J. H.   

The Heads of the following Chapters.  

CHAP. I 

1 SIr More's parentage.  
2 The place and year of his birth.  
3 His education, first studies and employments of youth.    
CHAP. TWO 

1 SIr Thomas More his Marriage.  
2 His first preferment.  
3 His danger in King Hen. 7. Reign.    
CHAP. III 

1 His integrity in his profession of the Law.  
2 The beginning of his favour with King Henry the eight.  
3 The first honours bestowed by K. Henry the eight on Sir Thomas More.  
4 He is made Speaker of the lower House of Par.    
CHAP. IV 

1 CArdinal Wolsey his preposition in Parliament frustrated by Sir Thomas More.  
2 Sir Thomas More made Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster.  
3 His gentle disposition on all occasions.    
CHAP. V 

1 SIr Th. M. prompt and ready Wit.  
2 His Charity to his Neighbours.  
3 His friendship with learned men at home and abroad.    
CHAP. VI 

1 SIr More's home entertainments and devotions.  
2 His behaviour to his Wife and Children.  
3 His miraculous cure upon his daughter M●rgaret by prayer.    
CHAP. VII 

1 THe ambition of Cardinal Wolsey.  
2 King H soruple concerning his marriage communicated to Sir Th. More.  
3 Sir More's prediction of the alteration of his Religion in England.  
4 His Embassy for peace, and happy success therein.    
CHAP. VIII 

1 THe Cardinal degraded of his Office.  
2 Sir Thomas More made Lord Chancellor of England.    
CHAP. IX 

1 SIr Thomas More's affable behaviour and integrity in his Chancellorship.  
2 His wise remedying of long delays in suits of law.  
3 His humble behaviour towards his Father.  
4 His admirable zeal in the cause of his Religion.    
CHAP. X 

1 SIr More's penances continued in the midst of his honours.  
2 His charity to his poor neighbours of Chelsey.  
3 He refuseth to allow of Kin. Hen. divorcement.  
4 He sues to depose his Office.  
5 The death of Sir John More his Father.  
6 Such incredible poverty in so eminent a person, a sure sign of incomparable integrity.    
CHAP. XI 

1 SIr More's contempt of honour declared in deposing the great dignity of Chancellorship.  
2 His resolution to live poorly.  
3 He prepareth himself for his sufferings as foreseeing them.  
4 He refuseth to be present at Q. Anne's marriage.    
CHAP. XII 

1 THe beginning of the King's indignation.  
2 Sir Th. More. disposeth himself more immediately to suffer death.  
3 Divers accusations procured against Sir Thomas, alle●sily avoided by his innocency.  
4 The Nun of Canterbury, first occasion of calling Sir Thomas More in question concerning Queen Anne.  
5 His first examination before the King's Deputies  
6 His merry heart and gallant resolution after his examination.    
CHAP. XIII 

1 SIr Tho. More refuseth the Oath of Supremacy and succession.  
2 Sir Th. More's imprisonment, first in Westminster, then in the Tower.  
3 His discourse with his daughter Margaret.  
4 A Dialogue between him and his Wife the Lady More.  
5 Mr. Rich his Case.  
6 His Books taken from him.    
CHAP. XIV 

1 SIr More's Arraignment.  
2 His answer to their indictment.  
3 Mr. Rich's Oath against Sir Tho. clearly rejected.  
4 Sentence of death pronounced against Sir Thomas More.    
CHAP. XV 

1 THe manner how Sir Th. More was led back to the Tower.  
2 His daughter Margaret's great expression of love to him now condemned.  
3 How devoutly and resolutely Sir Tho. expected his execution.  
4 Notice of the time of his death sent him by the King.  
5 The manner and form of his Death.  
6 The King's sadness thereupon.  
7 Physiognomy of Sir Tho. More.    
AView of Sir More's Wit and Wisdom.  
SOme few of Sir Tho. Apothegms collected out of Dr. Stapleton.  
AN Apology for Sir More's pleasantness of Wit.    

THE HISTORY OF Sr. THO. MORE.  

CHAP. I.  

1 Sir Thomas Moor's Parentage.  
2 The place, and year of his birth.  
3 His education, first studies and employments of youth.   

S. Thomas Moor's parentage.  SIR Thomas More was the only son of Sir John More Knight, and one of the Justices of the King's Bench, a man singular for his many rare perfections, which are set down by his son in his Epitaph extant extant among his Latin Works Cambden reports of him for proof of his pleasantness of wit, that he would compare the great number of women to be chosen for wives unto a bag full of Snakes, having amongst them but on● Eel; now if a man puts his hand into this bag, he may chance to light on the Eel, but 'tis 2 hundred to one if he be not stung with a Snake. Many such witty similitudes he used both in his private discourses and public auditory, by which and many other his perfections of wit and grace, one might guests that thi● child was likely to prove singular, having so worthy a father.  

The place and time of his birth.  Sir Thomas More was born at London in Milkstreet, (where his father for the most part dwell) in the year of our Lord, one thousand four hundred and eighty, and in the twentieth year 
An evident danger strangely escaped in his infancy.  of Edward the fourth: Shortly after whose birth, was there this presage of his future eminency. His Nurse riding with him over a water, the Horse stepped aside into a deep place, and put both her and the child in great danger of their lives; but she endeavouring suddenly to prevent the harm of the Infant, threw it over a hedge into a field near adjoining, and afterward by God's assistance escaped safe herself. When she came to take him up again, to her amazement she found him to have no hurt at all, but the Babe sweetly smiled upon her.  

His first studies, & employment.  Wherefore his father (as supposing him sent into the world for some great end) was much the more careful of his education, and so put him to the Free-school of London, 
In S. Anthony's School in London.  called St. Anthony's: where after he had been brought up in the Latin tongue, his father shortly after procured him to be received into the house of the Right Reverend Prelate Cardinal Morton Archbishop of Canterbury, 
In Cardinal Moortons' house.  and Lord High Chancellor of England: where though he was young of years, yet would he in the Christmas time suddenly sometimes step in among the Players, 
His towardliness in the Cardinal's retinue.  and never studying for the matter, make a part of his own there presently, amongst them which was so witty and full of Jests, that he alone made the lookers on more sport than all the Players beside: in whose wit and towardness the Cardinal much delighting, would often say of him to the Nobles that several times dined with him, This child here waiting at the Table, whosoever shall live to see it, will prove a marvellous man.  

The Cardinal sendeth him to Oxford.  Whereupon for his furtherance in learning he placed him in Canterbury College in Oxford, (now called Christ Church) where when he was both in the Greek and Latin tongue sufficiently instructed; he was then for the study of the Law put to an Inn of Chancery called New-inn, 
He is sent to New-inn.  where for his time he very well prospered.  

To Lincolus-Inne.  And from thence was admitted to Lincolns-Inne with very small allowance, continuing his study there until he was made and accounted a worthy Utter Barrister. 
His public Lectures upon S. Austin, De Civitate Dei.  And then to his commendation he for some time read a public Lecture of S. Austin, De Civitate Dei, in the Church of S. Laurence in the Old Jury, whereunto there resorted Dr. Groyein a excellent man, and others of the most learned of the City of London. Then was he made Reader of Furnivals-inn, so remaining by the space of three years and more, after which time he gave himself to devotion and prayer in the Charter-house of London, religiously living there without vow about four year.   

CHAP. II.  

1 Sir Thomas Moor's marriage.  
2 His first preferments.  
3 His danger in King Henry the sevenths' Reign.   

Sir Thomas More his marriage and first wife.  NOw about this time there lived a pleasant Gentleman (and of an ancient Family) of New-hall in Essex, by name M. John Colt, who several times invited him to his house, being much delighted in his company, and proffered him the choice of any of his daughters, three young Gentlewomen of very good carriage and complexion; whose honest conversation and virtuous education inclined him there especially to set his affection: and although he most desired the second daughter, 
Chosen out of a charitable compassion against his own inclination  for that he thought her the fairest and most handsome, yet when he considered that it would be both a great grief, and some blemish also, to the eldest to see her younger sister preferred before her; ●he then of a kind compassion framed his fancy toward her, and soon after married her, never the more discontinuing his study of the Law at Lincolns-Inne, 
His rare knowledge in the law.  but still plying the same until he was called to the Bench and had read twice, which is as often as any Judge of the Law doth read; and to which few but rare and singular Lawyers do ever attain. 
His children by her.  Before which time he had placed himself and his wife in Bucklersbury in London; where he had by her one son and three daughters, in virtue and learning brought up from their youth: whom he would often exhort to take virtue and learning for their meat, and play but for their sauce.  

K. Henry the 7. offended with Sir Tho. More.  In the latter end of King Henry the sevenths Reign a Parliament was called, wherein Sir Thomas More, ere ever he had read in the Court, was chosen Burgess: there was then demanded by the King one Subsidy and three Fifteen for the marriage of his eldest daughter the Lady Margaret, that then should be, (as indeed she was shortly after) the Queen of Scots; when the consent of the Lower House was demanded to these impositions, most of the rest either holding their peace, or not daring to speak against them (though very unwilling to grant them) Sir Thomas making a grave speech, 
He crosseth the K. in Parliament in an unjust imposition.  argued so strongly why these exactions were not to be granted, that thereby the King's demands were clear overthrown and his request denied, so that one Mr. Tyler of the King's Privy Chamber being present thereat, went immediately from the House and told his Majesty, that a beardless boy had frustrated all his expectations: whereupon the King being very much incensed at him, would not be satisfied until he had some way revenged it.  

Sir John More the father imprisoned to be revenged on the son.  Now forasmuch as he nothing having, nothing could lose; the King devised a causeless quarrel against Sir John More his father, keeping him in the Tower until he had made him pay to him a hundred pounds fine: hereupon it sell out that Sir Thomas More coming in a suit to Doctor Fox Bishop of Winchester, 
Bad counsel given by a politic Bishop.  one of the King's privy Council, the Bishop called him aside, and pretending great favour to him, promised him that if he would be ruled by him; he would not fail to restore him again into the King's favour; meaning (as it was afterward conjectured) to cause him thereby to confess his offence against the King, that so his Highness might with the better colour have occasion to revenge his displeasure against him: 
Avoided by counsel of the Bishop's Chaplain.  But when he came from the Bishop he fell into discourse with one Mr. Whitford his familiar friend, (than Chaplain to that Bishop, and after a Father of Zion,) and related to him what the Bishop had said, desiring his advice therein; who for the Passion of God, prayed him in no wise to follow his Counsel; For my Lord, my Master (said he) to serve the King's turn, will not stick to consent to his own father's death. So Sir Thomas returned to the Bishop no more, and had not the King soon after died, 
He retires to his quieter studies.  he was determined to have gone over Sea, because that being in the King's indignation he thought he could not live secure in England, and therefore he studied the French tongue at home, sometimes recreating his tired spirits on the Viol, where he also got most of the liberal Sciences, as Music, Arithmetic, Geometry and Astronomy, and grew to be a perfect Historian.   

CHAP. III.  

1 His integrity in the profession of the Law.  
2 The beginning of his favour with King HENRY the eighth.  
3 The first honours bestowed by King HENRY the eighth upon Sir THO. MORE.  
4 He is made Speaker of the Lower House of Parliament.   

He is made one of the Under-Sheriffs of London. His plentiful but honest gains  AFter this he was made one of the Under-Sheriffs of London (some say, Recorder; but most the other) by which Office and his learning together (as he hath been heard to say) he gained without grudge of conscience at the least 400 l. per annum: Since there was at that time in none of the King's Courts any matter of importance in Controversy wherein he was not of Council with one of the parties, 
His integrity in his profession of the Law.  choosing the justest side, and therefore for the most part he went away victorious: and such was the estimation which (for his learning, wisdom, knowledge, and experience) men had of him, that before he was come to the service of King Henry the eighth, at the suit and instance of the English Merchants, he was by the King's consent made twice Ambassador in certain great causes between them and the Merchants of the Steel-yard; whose wise and discreet dealing therein, 
The beginning of Sir Tho. More's favour with K. Henry the 8.  to his high commendation, when the King understood, he caused Cardinal Woolsey (than Lord Chancellor) to procure him to his service, which although the Cardinal according to the King's request, laboured earnestly with him to effect; among many other his persuasions alleging unto him, how dear his service must needs be unto his Majesty, who could not with his honour allow him less than he should yearly lose by changing his former estate; but that rather he would enlarge his fortunes, and recompense him fully. 
Warily ae the first declined by S. Tho. More.  Yet he loathe to change his condition, made such means unto the King by the Cardinal to the contrary, that his Majesty for that time was well satisfied to forbear him.  
Now it fortuned shortly after that a great Ship of the Popes arrived at Southampton, which the King claiming for a forfeiture, the Pope's Ambassador by suit unto his Grace, obtained that he might for his Master the Pope have Council learned in the Laws of this Kingdom, and the business in his own presence (being himself a singular Civilian) in some public place be openly heard: At which time there could none of our Law be found so fit to be of Council with this Ambassador as Sir Thomas More; 
By pleading for the Pope against the King, he makes him one of his Privy Council.  who could report to the Ambassador in Latin all the reasons and arguments by their learned Council on both sides alleged. Upon this the Counsellors on either part in presence of the Lord Chancellor and other the Judges in the Star-chamber had audience accordingly. Where Sir Thomas More not only declared to the Ambassador the whole sense of all their opinions, but in defence on the Pope's side argued so learnedly, that both the foresaid forfeiture was restored to the Pope, and himself among all the hearers, for his just and commendable demeanour therein, so greatly renowned, that now for no entreaty would the King any longer be induced to forbear his service: at whose first entry thereunto, he made him Master of the Requests (having then no better place void) and within a Month after Knight, 
Sir Thomas More knighted.  and one of his privy Council, and so from time to time advanced him, continuing still in his singular favour and trusty service twenty years and above: during a good part whereof the King used upon Holy days, 
The familiarity of K. Henry with Sir Thomas.  when he had done devotions, to send for him into his Travers, and there sometimes in Astronomy, Geometry, Divinity, and such other faculties, and sometimes of his worldly affairs to sit and confer with him; and at other while in the night would he have him up into his leads, there to discourse with him of the diversities, courses, motions and operations of the Planets. And because he was of a very pleasant disposition, it pleased the King and Queen after the Council had supped, to call for him to be merry with them, whom when he perceived so much to delight in his talk, 
Discreetly lessened by Sir Thomas himself  that he could not once in a month get leave to go home to his wife and children (whose company he most desired) and that he could not be absent from the Court two days together, but that he must be sent for again; He much misliking this restraint of his liberty, began thereupon somewhat to dissemble his nature, and so by little and little to disuse himself from his former mirth, that he from thenceforth at such times was no more so ordinarily sent for. 
Sir Thomas made Treasurer of the Exchequer.  Then one Mr. Weston Treasurer of the Exchequer dying, the King of his own offer, without any ask, freely gave his office unto Sir Thomas More.  

He is by the K. chosen Speaker of the Lower House of Parliament.  In the fourteenth year of his Majesty's Reign, was there a Parliament held, whereof Sir Thomas More was chosen Speaker: who being very unwilling to take that place upon him, made an oration (not now extant) for his discharge thereof. Whereunto when his Highness would not consent, he spoke unto him in manner following.  

A Summary of his First Speech in Parliament.  
SInce I perceive (most renowned Sovereign) that it is not your Majesty's pleasure to reform this Election and cause it to be changed, but have by the mouth of the Right Reverend Father in God the Legate your High Chancellor, 
Who was then Cardinal wolsey.  thereunto given your assent, and have of your great goodness determined far above my deserts or abilities, to repute me worthy this so weighty Office, rather than you should seem to impute unto your Commons that they had unmeetly chosen me; I am therefore, and always shall be ready obediently to conform myself to the accomplishment of your high Commands, 
His first request to the King.  most humbly beseeching your most noble Majesty, that ●may with your Grace's favour, before I further enter thereinto, make my humble intercession to your Highness for the grant of two lowly Petitions, the one privately concerning myself, the other this whole Assembly. For myself, (gracious Sovereign) That if I should chance hereafter in any thing that is in the behalf of your Commons, to mistake my Message, and for lack of good utterance, by my misreporting, pervert or impair their prudent instructions; It may then please your most Noble Majesty, of your abundant grace to pardon my simplicity, giving me leave to repair again to them, to confer with them, and to take their more serious advice what thing, and in what manner I shall on their behalf speak before your Highness; that so their prudent advices and affairs be not by my folly hindered or prejudiced: which thing if it should happen (as likely it were in me) if your grace's goodness relieved not my oversight, it would not fail to be during my life, a perpetual grudge and heaviness to my heart. The help and remedy whereof in manner aforesaid remembered is (most gracious Sovereign) my first humble suit unto your Majesty.  

His second request.  My other humble request, (most excellent Prince) is this, Forasmuch as there be of your Commons here (by your high Commandment) assembled for your Parliament: a great number which (after the accustomed manner) are appointed to treat and consult of the common affairs amongst themselves apart; and albeit (most dread Sovereign) that according to your prudent advice, by your honourable Writs every where declared, there hath been as due diligence used in sending up to your Highness' Court of Parliament, the most discreet persons out of every quarter that men could esteem worthy thereof; whereby it is not to be doubted, but that there is a very able Assembly of wise and politic persons: yet (most victorius Prince) since among so many wise men, neither is every man wise alike, nor among so many men like well-witted, every man like well-spoken: And it often happeneth that as sometimes much folly is uttered in painted polished Speech; so many, though rude in language, are of sound judgements, and prove the wisest Counsellors: And since also in matters of greatest importance the mind is often so taken up in them, that a man rather studies what to say then how; by reason whereof the wisest man and best spoken in a whole Country fortuneth sometimes, his mind being fervent in the business, somewhat to speak so, as he he could afterwards wish to have been uttered otherwise, and yet no worse will had when he spoke, then when he would so gladly change. Therefore (most gracious Sovereign) considering that in all your High Court of Parliament nothing is treated of but matter of weight and importance concerning the Kingdom and your own Royal estate, it could not fail to hinder and put to silence many of your discreet Commons from giving their advice and counsel, to the great hindrance of the common affairs, except that every of them were utterly discharged of all doubt and fear how any thing spoken among them should be taken of your Highness. And in this thing your well known and approved clemency puts every man in very good hope; yet such is the weight of the matter, such the reverend dread that the timorous hearts of your natural Subjects conceive towards your Highness, (our most undoubted Sovereign) that they cannot in this point rest satisfied, except your gracious bounty therein declared, put away the scruple of their timorous minds, and animate and encourage them from all doubt: may it therefore please your Majesty (our most gracious King) of your great goodness, to pardon freely, without doubt of your dreadful displeasure, whatsoever shall happen any man to speak in the discharging of his conscience, interpreting every man's words, how unseemly soever couched, yet to proceed of good zeal to the prosperity of the Kingdom, and the honour of your royal person; the happy estate and safety whereof, (most excellent Soveriagn) is the thing, all we your most humble loving subjects, according to the most bounden duty of our natural allegiance, most highly desire and pray for.    

CHAP. IU.  

1 Cardinal Wolsey's proposition in Parliament frustrated by Sir THO. MORE.  
2 Sir THO. MORE made Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster.  
3 His gentle disposition on all occasions.   

Cardinal Wolsey's entry into the Parliament.  AT this Parliament Cardinal Wolsey was much offended with the Burgesses thereof, for that nothing was so soon done or spoken therein, but that it was immediately blown abroad into every Alehouse. It fortuned after this, that a very great Subsidy was demanded, which the Cardinal fearing it would not pass the lower House, resolved for the furtherance of it, to be there present himself: before whose coming, after long debating, whether it were better but with a few of his Lords, (as the general opinion of the House was) or with his whole train royally to receive him there among them: Masters, said Sir Thomas More, for as much as my Lord Cardinal not long since, as ye all know, laid to our charge the lightness of our tongues, for things spoken out of this House; it shall not, in my judgement, be amiss to receive him with all his pomp; his Maces, his Pillars, his Pole-axes, his Crosses, his Hat and Great Seal too; that so if he blame us hereafter, we may be the bolder to excuse ourselves, and lay it upon those that his Grace bringeth hither with him. Whereupon the House wholly agreeing, he was received accordingly; 
His motion to the lower House.  where after he had in a solemn Oration, by many reasons, proved how necessary it was the demands there moved should be granted, and further, showed that less would not serve the King's turn; who seeing the House silent, answering nothing thereunto, and contrary to his expectation, showing in themselves no inclination towards his request, he said unto them, Masters, You have many wise and learned men among you, and since I am by the Kings own person sent hither unto you for the preservation of yourselves, and all the Kingdom; I think it fit you give me some reasonable answer. But when every man still held his peace, than he spoke in particular to one Mr. Murrey, afterwards Lord Murrey, who making him no answer neither, he severally asked the same question of divers others accounted the wisest of the House: to whom when none of them all answered any thing, being before ahreed, as the custom was to make answer by their Speaker. Masters, said the Cardinal, 
Frustrated by Sir Th. More.  unless it be the manner of your House (as very likely it may) by your Speaker only in such cases to express your minds, here is without doubt a marvellous obstinate silence: and thereupon he required answer of Mr. Speaker, who first reverently upon his knees excused the silence of the House, a● abashed at the presence of so noble a personage; and after by many probable arguments proved, that for them to make answer, was neither expedient nor agreeable with the ancient liberty of the House: in conclusion for himself he declared, that though they all had trusted him with their voices, yet except every of them could put their several wits into his head, he alone in so weighty a matter was not able to make his Grace sufficient answer. 
Who pleasantly and wittily diverteth the Cardinal's displeasure.  Whereupon the Cardinal displeased with Sir Thomas More, that had not in this Parliament in all things satisfied his desires, suddenly arose and departed; and afterwards in his Gallery at Whitehall in Westminster, uttered unto him all his grief, saying, Would to God Mr. More you had been at Rome, when I made you Speaker: Your Grace not offended, so would I too my Lord, said Sir Thomas: and to put it out of the Cardinal's head, he began to talk of that Gallery of his, saying, I like this Gallery of yours, my Lord, better than your other at Hampton-Court. With which so wise digression, he broke off the Cardinal's displeasant talk, so that at that time he said no more to him.  

He obtaineth against him not to be sent Lieger Ambassador into Spain.  But yet afterwards in revenge of his displeasure, he counselled the King to send him Ambassador Lieger into Spain, commending unto his Highness his wisdom, learning, and fitness for that employment, and the difficulty of the Cause considered, he said there was none better able to serve his Grace therein; which when the King had broken to Sir Tho. More, and he had declared unto his Majesty how unfit a journey it was for him to undertake, the nature of the Country, and disposition of his complexion so disagreeing, that he was never likely to do his Grace acceptable service therein, knowing for certain, that if his Grace sent him thither, he should send him to his grave; yet nevertheless showing in himself a readiness according to his duty (although with the peril of his life) to fulfil his Majesty's pleasure therein: the King allowing well his answer, said unto him, It is not our meaning Mr. More to do you hurt, but to do you good we would be glad; we therefore will think of some other, and employ your service otherwise. And such entire favour did the King bear him, 
He is made Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster.  that he made him Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster, upon the death of Sir Richard. Wingfield who had that office before.  

Sir. More's judgement of K henry's extraordinary favour.  King Henry took so great pleasure in Sir Thomas his company, that he would suddenly sometimes come to his house at Chelsey to be merry with him; whither on a time unlooked for, he came and dined with him, and after dinner in a fair garden of his, walked about an hour, holding his arm about his neck: As soon as his Grace was gone, his son-in-law Mr. Rooper, rejoicing thereat, told him how happy he was whom the King had so familiarly entertained, as he had never seen him do to any before, except Cardinal Wolsey, whom he saw his Majesty once walk with arm in arm: I thank our Lord, son Rooper, said he, I find his Grace my very good Lord indeed, and I believe he doth as singularly favour me as any subject within this Kingdom; yet son Rooper, I may tell thee, I have no cause to be proud of it, for if my Head would win him a Castle in France, (for then there was war between us) it would not fail to go off: By which words he evidently showed how little he joyed either in the King's favour, or in his worldly honour, who knew well King henry's nature, that what show of friendship soever he made to any, yet he loved none but for his own ends.  

His courteous behaviour in the midst of his honours.  Sir Thomas More though in great honour and favour with his. Prince, was not therefore puffed up with pride, disdain, or arrogancy, but was of such a mild behaviour and excellent temper, that he could never be moved to any passion or anger, as his son-in-law witnesseth, who affirms, that in sixteen years' time and more, that he dwelled in his house, and was continually conversant with him; he could never perceive him so much as once in a passion: and one Margaret Jigs (who was brought up with Sir Thomas his children, and used no otherwise then one of them) being a singular learned woman, saith, that sometimes she would commit a fault for the nonce, to hear Sir Thomas chide her, he did it with such gravity, such moderation, 
His meekness in reprehending.  such love and compassion. His meekness also was very perspicuous in this; if it had fortuned him with any learned men resorting to him from Oxford, Cambridge, or elsewhere (as there did divers come for desire of his acquaintance; some for the famous report of his wisdom and learning, and some for suits of the Universities) to have entered into disputation (wherein few were comparable to him) and so far to have discoursed with him therein, that he might perceive they could not without some inconvenience hold out much further argument against him; then lest lie should discourage them, as he that sought not his own glory, ever showing himself more desirous to learn then to teach, he would by some witty invention break off into some other matter and give over.  

Patience joined to perfection.  Upon a time the Water-bailiffe of London (sometime his servant) hearing, where he had been at dinner, certain Merchants liberally to rail against his old Master, was so discontented at it, that he hastily came to him and told him what he had heard, and; Were I, said he, in such favour and authority with my Prince as you are, such men surely should not be suffered so villainously, and falsely to misreport and slander me: wherefore I could wish, you would call them before you, and to their shame for their malice punish them: who smiling on him, said, Why Mr. Water bailiff, would you have me punish those, by whom I receive more benefit, then by you all that be my friends? let them a God's name speak as basely as they please of me, and shoot never so many arrows at me, so long as they do not hit me, what am I the worse? but if they should once hit me, than indeed would it not a little trouble me; yet I trust by Gods help there shall none of them all be able to touch me; I have more cause I assure thee Mr. Water-bailiffe to pity them, then to be angry with them. Such height of perfection had he now attained, that he was neither alured by hopeful gains, nor deterred one whit from his duty by evil tongues, still carrying one and the same alacrity in all crosses and adversities, as in the following discourse it will more appear.   

CHAP. V.  

1. Sir Thomas Moor's prompt and ready wit.  
2. His charity to his neighbours.  
3. His friendship with learned men at home and abroad.   

His readiness of wit upon all occasions.  SIR Thomas More was a man of such readiness of Wit, that at such time as he attended upon his Highness in his progress either to Oxford or Cambridge, where he was received with very eloquent Orations; his Majesty always appointed him to answer them extempore, as he that was most prompt and ready for it. Sir Thomas being Chancellor of the Duchy, was made Ambassador twice joined in commission with Cardinal Wolsey, once to the Emperor Charles into Flanders, the other time to the French King into France, whose manner was, whensoever he had occasion to be in any University, not only to be present at their Readins and Disputations, but also learnedly to dispute himself amongst them, to the great admiration of all the Auditory, for his knowledge in all sciences: who being once at Burgess in Flanders, an arrogant fellow had set up a Thesis, that he would answer any question could be propounded unto him in what Art soever: Sir Thomas made this question to be put up for him to answer, whether Averia capta in Withernamia sunt irreplegebilia; adding that there was one of the English Ambassadors retinue, that would dispute with him thereof: This. Thraso, or Braggadochio not so much as understanding those terms of our common Law, knew not what to answer to it, and so he became ridiculous to the whole City for his presumptuous bragging.  

His charity to his neighbours.  On a time (whilst the divorce was so hotly pursued by the King, (as you shall understand hereafter) he walking with his son-in-law Mr. Rooper along the Thames side near Chelsey, among other discourse, said unto him, Now would to our Lord (son Rooper) upon condition that three things were well established in Christendom, 
His three wishes for the good of Christendom.  I were put into a sack, and here presently cast into the Thames: What great things be those Sir, said he, that should move you so to wish? Wouldst thou know what they be (son Rooper) said he? in saith they be these: The first is, That where most part of Christian Princes be now at mortal, 
Unity in Peace.  war they were at an universal peace. The second, That where the Church of Christ is at this time sore afflicted with many errors and Heresies, 
Unity in Religion.  it were settled in a perfect uniformity of Religion. 
An end of the King's controversy.  The third is, That whereas the King's marriage is now brought in question, it were to the glory of God, and quietness of all parties well concluded: whereby (as this Mr. Rooper thought) he judged that otherwise it would be a disturbance to a great part of Christendom.  

He never asked any thing of the King.  Thus did it by his doings, throughout the whole course of his life, appear that all his labour and pains, without respect of earthly profit either to himself or any of his, were only and wholly bestowed and employed to the service of God, the Prince, and the Kingdom, who (as this Mr. Rooper hath heard him in his latter time to say) never asked of the King for himself the value of one penny.  

His friendship with learned men.  Now as he did not regard proud and vain men, so was he an entire and special good friend to all the learned men in Christendom, with whom almost, he had continual intercourse of Letters; but of all strangers, 
Sir More's acquaintance with Dr. Erasmus Roterodamus.  Erasmus challengeth unto himself his love most especially, which had long continued between them by mutual letters expressing great affection, & it increased so much, that he took a journey on purpose into England to see and enjoy his personal acquaintance; at which time (it is reported) how that he who conducted him in his passage, procured that Sir Thomas More and he should first meet together in London at the Lord Mayor's Table, neither of them knowing each other, where in the dinner time, they chanced to fall into disputation, Erasmus still endeavouring to defend the worse part, but he was so sharply set upon and opposed by Sir Thomas More, that perceiving he was now to argue with a readier wit than ever before he had met withal, he broke forth into these words not without some choler, Aut●tues Morus aut nullus: whereto Sir Thomas readily replied, Aut tu es Erasmus aut Diabolus: because at that time he was strangely disguised, and had endeavoured to defend impious propositions, for although he was a singular Humanist and one that could utter his mind in most eloquent phrase, yet had he always a delight to scoff at religious matters, and find fault with all sorts of Clergymen, which is the reason that he is called by some Errans-mus.   

CHAP. VI  

1 Sir More's home-entertainments and devotions.  
2 His behaviour to his Wife and Children.  
3 His miraculous cure upon his daughter Margaret by prayer.   

Sir More's home entertainments and devotions.  NOw although Sir Thomas More lived a Courtier, yet when he came home, as his daily custom was, besides his private prayers with his Wife and Children, to say the seven Psalms and the Litany; so was he wont also every night to go to his Chapel with his wife, children, and household, and there upon his knees ordinarily to say certain Psalms and Collects with them. And because he was desirous for godly purposes to be solitary, and sequester himself from worldly affairs, he builded a good distance from his mansion house a place which he called the New-building, wherein there was a Chapel, a Library, and a Gallery, in which as his custom was upon other days to busy himself in prayer and meditation, so on Fridays he used to continue there from morning till evening, spending his time only in devout prayers and spiritual exercises.  

His servant's discipline.  He would not suffer any of his servants either to be idle, or to give themselves to games; but some of them he appointed to look to the Garden, assigning to every man his several plat, some he set to sing, and some to play on the Organs: the men abode on one side of the house, and the women on the other, seldom conversing together: Erasmus saith, that there was a fatal felicity fallen on the servants of that house, that none lived but in better estate after Sir Thomas Moor's death, than before, and none of them touched with the least aspersion of any evil fame.  

His table talk.  He used to have one read every day at his table, which being ended, he would ask some of them how they understood such and such a place; whereupon proceeded friendly communication, recreating all men that were present, with some jest or other. When he observed any of his to spend much time in dressing themselves to be fine in their apparel, 
Against too much curiosity in dressing.  he would tell them, That if God gave them not Hell, he should do them much wrong; for they took more pains to please the world and the Devil, than many even virtuous men did to cleanse their souls and please God.  

His counsel given to his wife and Children.  And to stir up his Wife and Children to the desire of heavenly things, he would sometimes use these words unto them; It is now no mastery for you Children to go to heaven, for every body giveth you good counsel, 
To desire heavenly things.  and good example: you see virtue rewarded and vice punished, so that you are carried up to heaven as it were by the Chins: but if you live the time, that no man will give you good counsel, nor good example; when you shall see virtue punished, and vice rewarded, if you will then stand fast and firmly stick to God; upon pain of my life, though you be but half good, God will allow you for whole good. If his Wife or any of his Children had been diseased or troubled, he would say unto them, 
To bear afflictions patiently.  We may not look at our pleasure to go to heaven in featherbeds, that is not the way, for our Lord himself went thither through great pain, and by many tribulations, and the servant may not look to be in better condition than his Master. And as he would thus animate and encourage them to bear their afflictions patiently, so would he also persuade them to withstand the Devil and his temptations valiantly; 
To resist the temptations of the Devil.  comparing that our ghostly enemy to an Ape; for as the Ape not well looked to, will be busy and bold to do shrewd turns, and contrarily being spied and checked for them, will suddenly leap back and adventure no further: so the Devil finding a man idle and slothful, and without resistance, ready to receive his temptations, groweth so hardy, that he will not fail to follow him until he hath throughly brought him to his purpose; but on the other side, if he see man with diligence persevere to prevent and withstand his temptations, he groweth so weary, that in conclusion he utterly forsaketh him: for as the Devil in his disposition is a spirit of so high a pride, that he cannot endure to be mocked; so is he of nature so envious, that he is more afraid any should assault him, lest he should thereby not only be shamefully foiled himself, but also procure more matter of merit to his opposer.  

A happy household.  Many such words tending to devotion and care of their souls, had he every day at dinner and supper, after the aforesaid reading was done, and without all doubt (waving their principles) such a family as this, might be a fit pattern of imitation for the most religious Protestant, where every one was busied about somewhat or other no carding, no dicing, no wanton company keeping, but as it were some in religious house, all chaste, all courteous, all devout: Their recreations was either music of voices or Viols, for which cause he procured his Wife to play thereon to draw her mind from the world, to which by nature he perceived her to be much addicted. 
Their ordinary recreations.  Thus delighted he evermore not only in virtuous exercise to be employed himself, but also to exhort his Wife and Children to follow the same.  
On a time his daughter Margaret, Wife to Mr. William Rooper, fell sick of the sweeting sickness, (of which many that year died) who lying in so great extremity of that disease, 
His miraculous cure upon his daughter Margaret.  as by no inventions or devises of Physicians (of whom she had divers, both expert, wise, and well learned, continually attendant about her) she could be kept from sleep; so that both Physicians and every one about her despaired of her recovery, and gave her utterly over: her father (as he that most entirely tendered her) being in no small heaviness for her, sought to get her remedy from God by Prayer: whereupon going up, as his custom was, into hit foresaid New-building, he there in his Chapel upon his knees most devoutly, and with many tears besought Almighty God, that it would please him of his goodness, (unto whom nothing was impossible) if it were his blessed will, at his mediation to vouchsafe graciously to hear his petition: where presently it came into his mind, that a clyster was her only remedy; which when he told the Physicians, they by and by confessed, if there were any hope of health, that that was the very best help indeed, much wondering that of themselves they had not before remembered it. Then was it immediately applied unto her sleeping; which she by no means could have been brought unto waking: and although after she was thereby throughly awaked, God's marks and evident undoubted tokens of death plainly appeared upon her; yet she (contrary to all their expectations) miraculously recovered, and shortly after was restored to perfect health again; whom if it had pleased God at that time to have taken to his mercy, her father solemnly protested that he would never have meddled with worldly affairs more.   

CHAP. VII.  

1 The Ambition of Cardinal Wolsey.  
2 King henry's scruple about his marriage communicated to Sir Thomas More.  
3 Sir More's Prediction of the alteration of Religion in England.  
4 His Embassy for peace and happy success therein.   

Cardinal Wolsey his ambition.  WHile Sir Thomas More was Chancellor of the Duchy, the Sea of Rome chanced to be void, which was cause of much trouble: for Cardinal Wolsey, a man of unsatiable ambition, having crept up in favour of Charles the first, hoped now by his means to aspire to that dignity; but perceiving himself disappointed of his expectations by means of the Emperor Charles, so highly commending one Cardinal Adrian sometime his Schoolmaster to the Cardinals of Rome in the time of their Election for his virtue and worthiness, that thereupon he was chosen Pope: 
Pope Adrian's humility.  who from Spain, where he was then resident, coming on foot to Rome, before his entry into the City, did put off his hose and shoes, barefooted, and bareleged passing through the streets towards his Palace with such humbleness, that all the people had him in great reverence. But Cardinal Wolsey was so enraged at it, and so stomached the Emperor for ever after, that he studied all ways how he might possibly revenge himself against him; which as it was the beginning of a lamentable. Tragedy, so some part thereof as not impertinent to my present purpose, I suppose requisite here to insert.  
This Cardinal therefore not ignorant of the King's unconstant and fickle disposition, upon every light occasion soon inclined to withdraw his devotion from his own wife Queen Katherine to fixit upon others, who either in nobility, wisdom, virtue, favour, or beauty, were nothing comparable unto her, intending this fickleness of his an instrument to bring about his ungodly design, endeavoured all he could to allure the King to fancy one of the French Kings sisters, the King being already (though unknown to the Cardinal) fallen in love with the Lady Anne Bullen; which thing, because of the enmity and war, that was at that time between the French King and the Emperor (whom for the cause afore mentioned he mortally maligned) he was desirous to procure.  
And for the better accomplishing thereof, he requested Longland Bishop of London, and ghostly father to the King, to put a scruple into the King's head, 
Longland B. of London Wolsy's instrument.  th● it was not lawful for him to marry his brother's wife: which th● King not sorry to hear of, opene● it first to Sir Thomas More, whos● counsel he required therein, 
K. Henry communicateth with Sat Thomas More his scruple concerning his first marriage.  showing certain places of Scripture tha● somewhat seemed to serve hi● turn: which when he had seriously perused and thereupon excuse● himself, (as one that never h●● professed the study of Divinity) t● be many ways unfit to meddle i● such matters: The King not satisfied with this answer, still presse● upon him so sore for it, that i● conclusion he condescended to h●● Grace's request. And further, because the business was of suc● weight and importance, as required good advisement and deliberation: he besought his Grace tha● he would give him sufficient ti●● seriously to consider it; where with the Kng very well contented, told him that Tunstall an● Clark Bishops of Durham and Bath with other the most learned of his privy Council, should also confer with him therein.  
So Sir Thomas More departing compared those places of Scripture with the expositions of divers of the old holy Doctors; and at his coming next to the Court, in talking with his Majesty of the foresaid matter, he said, To be plain with your Grace, neither my Lord of Durham, nor my Lord of Bath (though I know them both to be wise, virtuous learned and honourable Prelates) nor myself with the rest of your Council (being all of us your Majesties own servants, so much bound unto your Highness for your great favours daily bestowed upon us) be, in my judgement, meet Councillors for your Grace herein; but if your Highness please to understand the very truth, you may have such Councillors devised, as neither for respect of their own worldly profit, nor for fear of your Princely authority will be inclined to deceive you: and then named S, Hierome, S. Austin, and divers other holy Doctors, both Greeks and Latins, and also showed what authority he had gathered out of them; which although the King, as not agreeing with his desires, did not very well like of, yet were they by Sir Thomas More (who in all his communication with the King in that business, had always most discreetly demeaned himself) so wisely tempered, that both at that present he took them in good part, and often afterwards had thereof conference with him again.  

The beginning of K. henry's separation from the Church of Rome.  After this, were there certain questions propounded among his Council, Whether the King in the case of his first marriage needed to have any scruple at all; and if he had, what way were best to remove it. The most of his Council were of opinion that there was good cause: 
Scruple of his marriage with Queen Katherine  because Queen Katherine being married before to Prince Arthur King henry's elder brother, was not to be wife to two brothers; and therefore for discharging of this, suit was to be made to the See of Rome where the King by liberality hoped to obtain his desires: wherein, as it appeared afterwards, he was much deceived.  

Commissioners from Rome about it.  Then was there for the trial and examination of this matrimony procured from Rome, a Commission in which Cardinal Campegius and Cardinal Wolfey were joined Commissioners, who for the determination thereof sat at the Blackfriars in London, where a Libel was put in for annulling the former Matrimony, alleging, that marriage between the King and the Queen to be utterly unlawful: but, on the other side, for proof that it was lawful, there was brought in a Dispensation. In which after divers disputations thereupon held, there appeared an imperfection, 
The dispensation questioned.  which by an instrument or brief, (upon search found in the Treasury of Spain, and sent to the Commissioners into: England) was supplied, 
And supplied by a new confirmation.  and so judgement should have been given by the Pope accordingly, had not the King upon intelligence thereof before the said judgement appealed to the next general Council, after whose appellation the Cardinal upon that matter sat no longer.  

He foresaw the fall of his Religion in England.  It fortuned before the business of the said Matrimony was brought in question, when this foresaid Mr. Rooper in discourse with his father-in-law (of a certain joy) commanded unto him the happy estare of this Kingdom, that had so Catholic a Prince, that no Heretic durst show his face; so virtuous and learned a Clergy, so grave and sound a Nobility, so loving and obedient Subjects, all agreeing together in one faith and dutifulness, as though they had Cor unum & Animam unam, one Heart and one Soul: Sir Thomas replied, In truth it is indeed son Rooper as you say: and in commending all degrees and estates of the same far exceeded him: and yet son Rooper I pray God, said he, that some of us, as high as we seem to it upon the mountains, treading Heretics under our feet, live not the day, that we gladly would wish to be at a league and composition with them, to let them have their Churches quietly to themselves, so that they would be content to let us have ours quietly to, ourselves. When his son had told him many reasons why he had no cause so to express himself, Well, said he, I pray God (son Rooper) some of us live not till that day: yet showing him no reason why he should put any doubt therein. To whom he said, By my troth, Sir, it is very desperately spoken (but withal recants that term:) who by these words perceiving him in some choler said merrily unto him, Well, well, son Rooper, it shall not be so, it shall not be so: whom, as I have said before, in all the time of continual residence with him, he could never perceive so much as once disturbed with anger.  
But now to return again where I left; after the supplying of the imperfections of the Dispensation sent, as is before related, to the Commissioners into England, 
Sir Thomas More's Embassy for peace and his happy success therein.  the King taking the matter for ended, and then intending to proceed no further in it, assigned the Bishop of Durham, and Sir Thomas More to go Ambassadors to Cambray, a place (then) neither Imperial nor French, to treat of a peace between the Emperor, the French King, and him. In the concluding whereof, Sir Thomas More so worthily behaved himself (procuring in our league far more advantages unto this Kingdom, then at that time by the King or his Council was thought possible) that for his good service in that employment, the King made him Lord Chancellor, and caused the Duke of Norfolk openly to declare unto the people (as you shall see here hereafter more at large) how much all England was bounden unto him.   

CHAP. VIII.  

1 The Cardinal degraded of his Office.  
2 Sir THOMAS MORE made Lord High Chancellor of England.   
Now upon the coming home of the Bishop of Durham, 
Bishop Stokely his quirk in Queen Katherine's marriage.  and Sir Thomas More from Cambray, the King was as earnest in persuading Sir Thomas More to agree to his second marriage as before, by many and divers ways provoking him thereunto, for which cause (as it was thought) he the rather soon after made him Lord Chancellor; and further told him, that though at his going over the sea to Gambray he was in utter despair thereof, yet he had conceived since some good hope to bring it about: for although his marriage being against the positive Laws of the Church, and the written Laws God, was holpen by the Dispensation, yet was there another thing found out of late, he said, whereby his marriage appeared to be so directly against the Law of Nature, that it could in no wife be dispensable by the Church, as Dr. Stokely (whom he had then preferred to be Bishop of London, and in that case chiefly credited) was able to inform him, with whom he prayed him in that point to confer; But for all his conference with him, he saw nothing of such force as could induce him to change his opinion therein; 
His conference with Sir Thomas about it.  yet the Bishop relating to the King their conference so favourably reported of Sir More's carriage therein, that he said he found him very desirous to find some matter in his Highness' cause, wherein he might truly serve his Grace to his contentation.  
This Bishop Stokely being by the Cardinal not long before openly disgraced, 
Stokely undermines the Cardinal.  and awarded to the Fleet, not brooking this contumelious usage, and thinking that (forasmuch as the Cardinal for lack of such forwardness in setting forth the King's Divorce as his Grace expected, was out of his Highness' favour) he bade now a good occasion offered him to revenge himself of him; He yet more to incense the King's displeasure against him, endeavoured all he could to invent some colourable device for the King's furtherance in that behalf, 
The Cardinals fall.  which (as is before mentioned) he revealed to his Grace, hoping thereby to procure the King's greater affection to himself, and disaffection to the Cardinal, 
Sir Thomas More elected Lord Chancellor.  whom his Highness therefore soon after displaced of his Office; and (the rather to move him to incline to his side) committed the same to Sir Thomas More in his stead who between the Dukes of Norfolk, and Suffolk being brought through Westminster-Hall, to his place in the Chancery, 
The honourable Ceremony with which he was installed.  the Duke of Norfolk in audience of all the people there assembled, showed that he was from the King himself straight charged by special commission there openly in presence of them all, to make Declaration how much all England was beholding to Sir Thomas More for his good service, and how worthy he was of the highest preferment in the Kingdom, and how dearly his Grace loved and trusted him.  

A Copy of the Oration.  

The Duke of Norfolk's Oration in behalf of Sir Thomas More.  THE King's Majesty (which I pray God may prove happy and fortunate to the whole Realm of Engl.) hath raised to the most high dignity of Chancellorship Sir Tho. More, a man for his extraordinary worth and sufficiency well known to himself and the whole Realm, for no other cause or earthly respect, but for that he hath plainly perceived all the gifts of Nature and Grace to be heaped upon him, which either the people could desire, or himself wish, for the discharging of so great an Office. For the admirable wisdom, 
Of his worthiness for so great an employment.  integrity, and innocency, joined with most pleasant facility of wit, that this man is endued withal, have been sufficiently known unto all English from his youth, and for these many years also to the King's majesty himself. This hath the King abundantly found in many and weighty affairs, which he hath happily dispatched both at home and abroad, in divers Offices which he hath borne, in most honourable Embassies, which he hath undergone, and in his daily Counsels and Advices upon all other occasions. He hath perceived no man in this Realm to be more wife in deliberating, more sincere in opening to him what he thought, nor more eloquent to adorn the matter which he uttered. Wherefore because he saw in him such excellent endowments, and that of his special care he hath a particular desire that this Kingdom and people might be governed with all equity and justice, integrity and wisdom: he of his own most gracious disposition bathe created this singular man Lord Chancellor, that by his laudable performance of this Office his people may enjoy peace and justice, and honour also and fame may redound to the whole kingdom. 
The first Layman that ever was made Lord Chancellor.  It may perhaps seem to many, a strange and an unusall matter that this Dignity should be bestowed upon a Layman, none of the Nobility, and one that hath wife and Children, because heretofore none but singular learned Prelates, or men of greatest Nobility have possessed this place; 
Good reasons why that old custom was now salt red.  But what is wanting in these respects, the admirable virtues, the matchless gifts of wit and wisdom of this man, doth most plentifully recomPense the some; for the King's Majesty hath not regarded how great, but what a man he was, he hath not cost his eyes upon the Nobility of his blood, but on the worth of his Person; he hath respected his sufficiency, not his profession finally, he would show by this choice that he hath some rare subjects amongst the row of Gentlemen, and Laymen, who deserve to manage the highest Offices in the Realm, which Bishops and Noblemen think they only can deserve. The rarer therefore it was, so much both himself held it to be the more excellent, and ●o his people he thought it would be more grateful. Wherefore receive this your Chancellor with joyful acclamations, at whose hands you may expect all happiness and content.   
Sir Thomas More according to his wont modesty, 
Sir Tho. Moor's modest and discrete reply.  was somewhat abashed at this the Duke's Speech in that it sounded so much in his praise, but recollecting himself as that place and time would give him leave, he answered in manner following.  
Although, most Noble Duke, and you Honourable Lords and Worshipful Gentlemen, 
He acknowledgeth his own unworthiness.  I know all these things (which the King's Majesty, it seemeth hath been pleased it should be spoken of me at this time and place, and your Grace hath with most eloquent words thus amplified) are as far from me as I could wish with all my heart they were in me for the better performance of so great a charge: And although this your Speech hath caused in me greater fear than I can well express in words, yet this incomparable favour of my dread Sovereign, by which he showeth how well, yea how highly, he conceiveth of my Weakness, having commanded that my Meanness should be so greatly commended, cannot be but most acceptable unto me. 
The Duke's love.  And I cannot choose but give your most noble Grace exceeding thanks, that what his Majesty hath willed you briefly to utter, you of the abundance of your love unto me, have in a large and eloquent Oration dilated. 
The King's favour & bounty.  As for myself, I can take it no otherwise, but that his Majesty's incomparable favour towards me, the good will and incredible propension of his Royal mind (where with he hath this many years favoured me continually) hath alone without any desert of mine at all caused both this my new honour, and these your undeserved commendations of me. For who am I, or what is the House of my Father, that the King's Highness should heap upon me by such a perpetual stream of affection those so high Honours? I am far less than any the meanest of his benefits bestowed on me; 
Which he esteems beyond his deserts.  how can I then think myself worthy or fit for this so peerless dignity? I have been drawn by force, as the King's Majesty often professeth, to his Highness' service to be a Courtier: but to take this dignity upon me, is most of all against my will; yet such in his Highness' benignity, such is his bounty, that he highty esteemeth the small dutifulness of his meanest Subjects; and seeketh still magnificently to recompense his Servants, not only such as deserve well, but even such as have but a desire to deserve well at his hands: in which number I have always wished myself to be reckoned, because I cannot challenge myself to be one of the former; which being so, you may all perceive with me how great a burden is laid upon my back, 
All which increase in him a resolution to discharge well this so great charge.  in that I must strive in some sort with my diligence and duty to correspond with his Royal benevolence, and to be answerable to that great expectation, which he and you seem to have of me. Wherefore these so high Praises are by so much more grievous unto me, by how much I know the greater charge I have to render myself worthy of, and the fewer means I have to make them good. This weight is hardly satable to my weak shoulders, this honour is not correspondent to my poor deserts: it is a burtheu, not a Glory; a care, not a Dignity; the one therefore I must bear as manfully as I can, and discharge the other with as much dexterity as I shall be able. The earnest desire which I have always had, and do now acknowledge myself to have to satisfy by all means I can possible the most amplebenefits of his Highness, will greatly excite and aid me to the diligent performance of all; which I trust also I shall be more able to do, 
He desireth favourable interpretation of his endeavours.  if I find all your good will't and wishes both favourable unto me, and conformable to his Royal munificence: because my serious endeavours to do well, joined with your favourable acceptance will easily procure that whatsoever is performed by me, though it be in itself but small, yet will it seem great and praiseworthy; for those things are always achieved happily, which are accepted willingly; and those succeed fortunately, which are received by others courteously. As you therefore do hope for great matters and the best at my hands, so though I dare not promise any such, yet do I promise truly and affectionately to perform the best I shall be able.  

A wise consideration of his predecessors example.  When Sir Thomas had spoken these words turning his face to the high Judgement seat of the Chancery he proceeded thus:  
But when I look upon this seat, when I think how great and what kind of personages have possessed this place before me, when I call to mind who he was that sat in it last of all, a man of what singular wisdom, of what notable experience, what a prosperous and favourable fortune he had for a great space, and how at the last he had a most grievous fall and diedinglorious: I have cause enough by my predecessors example to think honour but slippery, and this dignity not so grateful to me as it may seem to others for both is it a hard matter to follow with like paces or praises a man of such admirable wit, prudence, authority and splendour, to whom I may seem but as the lighting of a Candle when the Sun is down and also the sudden and unexpected fall of so great a man as he was, 
The dangers of high honours.  doth terribly put me in mind that this honour ought not to please me too much, nor the lustre of this glistering seat dazzle mine eyes. Wherefore I ascend this seat as a place full of labour and danger, void of all solid and true honour; the which by how much the higher it is, by so much greater fall I am to fear, as well in respect of the very nature of the thing itself, as because I am warned by this late fearful example. And truly I might even now at this first entrance stumble, yea faint, but that his Majesty's most singular favour towards me, and all your good wills (which your joyful Countenance doth testify in this most honourable Assembly) do somewhat recreate and refresh me: otherwise this Seat would be no more pleasing to me then that Sword was to Damocles which hung over his head tied only by the hair of a horses tail, when he had store of delicates before him, seated in the chair of state of Denys the great Tyrant of Sicily; this therefore shall be always fresh in my mind, this will I have still before mine eyes, that this state will be honourable, famous, and full of Glory unto me, if I shall with care and diligence, fidelity and wisdom endeavour to do my duty, and shall persuade myself, that the enjoying thereof may chance to be but short and uncertain; 
A warning to use them well.  the one whereof my labour ought to perform, the other my predecessors example may easily teach me All which being so, you may easily perceive what great pleasure I take in this high Dignity, or in this most noble Dukes praising of me.  
And he further declared to this effect, that as they had in the King's name charged him uprightly to do indifferent justice to the people, without corruption or affection; so did he likewise charge them again, that if they saw him at any time in any thing digress from any part of his duty in that honourable Office, even as they would discharge their own duty & fidelity to God and the King, so should they not fail to inform his Grace of it, who otherwise might have just occasion to lay his default wholly to their charge.   

CHAP. IX.  

1. Sir THOMAS MORE's affable behaviour and integrity in his Chancellorship.  
2. His wise remedying long delays in suits of law.  
3. His humble behaviour toward his Father.  
4. His admirable Zeal in the cause of his Religion.   

Sir Thomas Moor's behaviour to all suitors, especially to the poorer sort.  NOw upon Sir More's entrance into this honourable Office, every one might perceive a very strange alteration; for whereas the precedent Chancellor Wolsey, would scarce look or speak to any, into whose only presence none could be admitted unless his fingers were tipped with gold; on the contrary, this Chancellor the poorer and meaner the Suppliant was, the more affably he would speak unto him, the more attentively he would hearken unto his cause, and with speedy trial dispatch him; for which purpose, he used commonly every afternoon to sit in his open Hall, that if any person whatsoever had any suit unto him, they might the more boldly come to his presence, and open their complaints before him.  

No access to Bribery.  Which custom of his extraordinary favour to all, one Mr. Dauncy his Son-in-law on a time seemed merrily to find fault with, saying, that when Cardinal Wolsey was Lord Chancellor, not only divers of his privy Chamber, but such also as were his Doorkeepers got great gain by him; And since he had married one of his Daughters and gave still attendance upon him, he thought he might of reason expect something too; but because he was so ready to hear every man, poor and rich, and kept no doors shut against them, he could get nothing, which was to him a great discouragement; and whereas else some for friendship, some for kindred, some for profit, would gladly use his furtherance to bring them to his presence, if he should now take any thing of them, he knew (he said) he should do them much wrong, because they might as freely prefer their causes to him themselves; which thing, though he thought it in Sir Thomas very commendable, yet to himself (he said) being his Son, he found it nothing profitable. When he had told him this, 
Means how great men may do favours in justice.  You say well Son (said he) I like well that you are of Conscience so scrupulous: but many other ways be there Son, that I may both do yourself good, and pleasure your friends also; for sometime may I by my word stand your friend in stead, and sometimes may I by my Letter help him; or if he have a Cause depending before me, at your request I may hear him before another; or if his Cause be not all the best, yet may I move the parties to fall to some reasonable end by a bitrament; howbeit Son this one thing I assure thee on my saith, 
Notable integrity.  that if the parties will at my hands call for Justice, than all were it my Father whom I loved dea●ly, stood on the one side, and the Devil, whom I hate extremely, stood on the other, his Cause being good, the Devil should have right. So offered he his Son, he said, as much favour as with reason he could possibly require.  
And, that he would for no respects digress from justice, 
Even against his own kindred.  well appeareth by a plain example of another of his sons-in-law, Mr. He●en by name: for when he having a Cause depending before him in the Chancery, and presuming too much on his favour, would in no wise be persuaded by him to agree to any indifferent composition, he in conclusion made a flat decree against him.  

* Long delays in Law the misery of poor Clients, remedied by Sir Tho. More.  Now as sew Injunctions as he granted while he was Chancellor, yet were they by some of the judges of the Law misliked, which his son-in-law the foresaid Mr. Rooper understanding, told his Father of it, who answered him that they should have little cause to find fault with him for that: and thereupon he caused Mr Crook chief of the fix Clerks to make a Docket containing the whole number and causes of all such injunctions, as either in his time had already passed, or at that present depended in any of the King's Courts at Westminster before him: which done he invited all the Judges to dine with him in the councel-chamber at Westminster; where after dinner when he had broken with them what complaints he had heard of his Injunctions, and farther showed them both the number and causes of every one of them, in order so plainly, that upon full debating thereof, they all confessed that they in like case could have done no otherwise themselves; Then offered he this unto them, that if the Justices of every Court unto whom the Reformation of the rigour of the Law (by reason of their Office) most especially appertained, would upon reasonable considerations by their own discretions, (as they were, as he thought, in conscience bound) mitigate and reform the rigour of the Law themselves, there should from thenceforth by him no more Injunctions be granted: Whereunto when they resused to condescend, than said he unto them: For as much as yourselves (My Lords) drive me to that necessity, for awarding out Injunctions to relieve the people's injuries, you cannot hereafter any more justly blame me. After that he said secretly to Mr. Rooper, I perceive, Son, why they like not so to do, for they see that they may be the verdict of the Jury cast off all quarrels from themselves upon them, which they account their chief defence, and therefore am I compelled to abide the adventure of all such reports.  

A pleasant Tale of a Tub.  After this he took order with all the Attorneys of his Court, that there should no Subpoena's go out, whereof in general he should not have notice of the matter with one of their hands unto the Bill, which bearing a sufficient cause of complaint worthy a Subpoena, he would set his hand to, or else cancel it. And when on a time one of the Attorneys, whose name was Mr. Tub had brought unto Sir Thomas the sum of his Clients Cause, and requested his hand unto it; Sir Thomas reading it, and finding it a matter frivolous, he added thereto in stead of his own name these words, A Tale of a Tub: the Attorney going away as he thought with Sir Tho. his name unto it, found when his Client read it, but a jest.  
Now was it a great wonder for any one to behold, how two great places of Westminster-hall were taken up, one with the Son, the other with the Father; which surely never was heard of before, or since; the Son to be Lord Chancellor, and the Father Sir John More to be one of the ancientest Judges of the King's Bench, if not the eldest of all, for he was then near ninety years old. 
Sir: Thomas More's humble behaviour towards his Father the ancientest Judge of the Kingdom.  Nay what a grateful spectacle was it to see the Son every day as he passed through the Hall to his place in the Chancery by the Court of the King's Bench, (if his Father had been setere he came) to go into the Court, and there reverently kneeling down in the sight of them all duly ask his Father's blessing. And if in fell out that his Father and he at reading in Lincolns-Inne met together, (as they sometimes did) notwithstanding his High Office, he would still offer the preeminency to his Father though he for his office sake would refuse to take it: such was the piety and submissive mind of this humble man, such again was the provident care of the Father towards the Son, that one can hardly guess which of the two were more worthy, the father of such a son, or the son of such a Father.  
And as little leisure as he had to be busied in the study of holy Scriptures, Controversies upon Religion, 
His admirable zeal in the cause of his Religion.  and other such like virtuous exercises, being in a manner continually employed about the affairs of the King and the Kingdom, yet such pains took he early and late in setting forth divers learned books in defence of his Religion, that the Bishops to whose pastoral care such businesses principally appertained, thinking themselves by what he had done (wherein by their own confession they were not able to compare with him) of their duties in that behalf discharged, and considering that for all his Prince's favour, he was no rich man, nor advanced in yearly revenues. as his worthiness deserved; therefore at a Convocation amongst themselves and other of the Clergy, they agreed together and concluded upon a sum of four or five thousand pounds to recompense him for his pains. 
A liberal reward proffered him nobly by the Bishops of England  To the payment whereof every Bishop, Abbot, and the rest of the Clergy were, according to their abilities, liberal contributaries; hoping this sum would content him. Whereupon Tunstal Bish. of Durham, and Clark Bishop and as is supposed Vessey of Exeter repaired unto him declaring how thankfully they esteemed themselves bound to consider him for his labours (to their discharge in Gods) bestowed, and that albeit they could not according to his deserts so worthily would, but must refer that only to the goodness of God; yet for a small part of recompense, in respect of his estate so unequal to his worthiness, in the name of their whole Convocation they presented unto him that sum, which they desired him to accept of: who forsaking it, said, That like as it was no small comfort to him that so wise and learned men so well accepted of his doings, 
As nobly and magnanimously refused by him, only for Gods caused.  for which he never intended to receive reward but at the hands of God only, to whom alone was the thanks thereof chiefly to be ascribed, so also he most humbly thanked their honours for their bountiful consideration. When they for all their importunate pressing upon him, (that few would have supposed he could have refused it) could not for all that fasten any upon him; Then they desired him that they might bestow it upon his Wife and Children: Not so (My Lords) said he, I had rather seen all cast into the Thames, than I or any of mine should have the worth of one penny of it: For though your offer, my Lords, be indeed very friendly and honourable, yet set I so much by my pleasure, and so little by my profit, that I would not in good faith for so much and much more, have lost the rest of so many nights sleep as was spent upon the same: and yet wish would I for all that upon condition all Heresies were suppressed, that all my books were burned, & my labour utterly lost. Thus departing, were they fain to restore unto every man his own again.   

CHAP. X.  

1 Sir THOMAS MORE's penances continued in the midst of his honours.  
2 His charity to his poor neighbours of Chelsey.  
3 He refuseth to allow of King Henry's Divorcement.  
4 He sues to depose his Office.  
5 The death of JO. MORE his Father.  
6 Such incredible poverty in so eminent a Person, a sure sign of incomparable Integrity.   
THis Lord Chancellor for the avoiding of singularity, 
Sir Thomas More his penances.  would appear no otherwise then other men in his apparel and outward behaviour, and though outwardly he appeared honourable like one of his calling, yet inwardly he was no such; for secretly next his skin he wore a shirt of hair, which his daughter More a young Gentle woman in the summer as he sat at supper single in his doublet and hose, 
Hair-shirt.  wearing thereupon a plain shirt without ruff or collar, chancing to espy, began to laugh at it; which her sister Margaret (not ignorant of his Custom) perceiving, privily told him of it, and he being sorry that she had seen it presently amended it. He used also sometimes to punish his body with whips, the cords knotted, which was known only to his eldest daughter Margaret Wife to the foresaid Mr. Rooper, whom for her secrecy a-above all other he especially trusted; causing her as need required to wash the same shirt of hair.  

His mer●ciful works to his poor neighbours.  He seldom feasted Noblemen, but his poor neighbours often; whom he would visit in their houses, and bestow upon them his large liberality, not groats, but crows of Gold; and more than that, if their wants required it. He hired a house also for many aged people in Chelsey, whom he daily relieved; & it was his daughter Margaret's charge to see them want nothing: when he was a private Lawyer, he would take no fees of poor folks, widows, or pupils.  

Liberality to his parish Church.  Somewhat before he was Lord Chancellor, he built a Chapel in his Parish at Chelsey, where the parish had all ornaments belonging thereunto abundantly supplied at his charge, and he bestowed thereon much Plate, often using these words: Good men give it, and bad men take it away.  

K. Henry desires Sir Thomas to allow his divorce.  Now shortly upon his entry into the high Office of Chancellorship, the King often again importuned him to weigh and consider his great business, supposing that he had now so strictly obliged him that he could no way have gainsaid him; but he valuing more the quiet of his conscience, than any Prince's favour in the world, fell down upon his knees before his Majestly, and humbly besought his Highness, to stand his gracious Sovereign, as ever since his entry into his Grace's service he had sound him: adding withal, that there was nothing in the world had been so grievous unto his heart, as to remember he was not able (as he willingly would with the loss of one of his limbs) to find any thing in that matter, whereby with integrity of his Conscience he might truly serve his contentation, as he that always bore in mind those godly words that his Highness spoke unto him when he first admitted him into his Noble service, the most virtuous lesson that ever Prince taught his Servant, willing him first to look unto God, 
Sir Thomas Moor's refusal for the time accepted by the King.  & (after God) unto him, as in good faith he said he did and would, or else might his Grace well account him his most unworthy servant. To this the King courteously answered, that it he could not therein with his Conscience serve, he was content to accept of his Service otherwise, and use the advice of other his learned Council, whose consciences would well enough agree with it; yet that he would nevertheless continue his wont favour towards him, and no more molest his conscience with that business.  

A Parliament called for Q. Anne's marriage.  But Sir Thomas More when afterwards he saw the King sully determined to proceed further in the marriage of Queen Anne, and that a Parliament was called for that purpose, wherein he with the Bishops and Nobles of the upper House were, for the furtherance of that marriage, commanded by the King to go down to the Commons, to show unto them both what the Universities as well of other parts beyond the seas, as at Oxford and Cambridge, had done therein, and their seals also testifying the same: All which at the King's request (not showing of what judgement himself was therein) he declared unto the lower House; yet doubting lest further attempts should after follow, 
Sir Thomas sues to depose his Office.  which contrary to his Conscience (by reason of his Office) he was likely to be put unto, he made suit unto the Duke of Norfolk his singular dear friend, to be a means to the King, that he might with his Majesty's favour be discharged of that chargeable office of Chancellorship, wherein for certain infirmities of his body, he pretended himself unable any longer to serve.  

Sir More's humbleness in the height of his Honours.  This Duke coming on a time to Chelley to dine with him, happened to find him at the Church singing in the Choir with a Surplice on his back: to whom after Service as they went homeward hand in hand together, the Duke said, God's body, My Lord Chancellor, what a Parish Clerk, a Parish Clerk! You dishon our the King and his Office: Nay, said Sir Thomas, smiling upon the Duke, Your Grace may not think your Master and mine will be offended with me for serving of God his Master, or thereby count his Office dishonoured.  

A remarkable Record, that no Cause was left undecided in the Chancery.  When Sir Thomas had behaved himself in his office of the Chancellorship, for the space of two years and a half, so wisely, that none could mend his doings; so uprightly, that none could take exception against him or his just proceedings; and so dexterously, that ('tis to be supposed) never any man before or since did that which he did: for he had taken such order for the dispatching of all men's causes, that on a time sitting as Judge there, and having finished one cause, he called for the next to be heard: whereto answer was made, that there was not one cause more depending. This he caused to be set down upon Record.  

The death of Sir John More.  About this time it happened Sir John More to fall sick (as some say) of a Surfeit of grapes: in his sickness, his Son whom he had now seen Lord Chancellor (according to his duty) often came and visited him, using many comfortable words unto him, and at his departure our of this world, with tears taking him about the neck, most lovingly kissed, and embraced him, commending his Soul into the merciful hands of Almighty God, and so departed from him: who left him now bettered but with a small increase of estate, because his chief house and Lands at Gubbins in Hartfordshire, his last wife enjoyed, who outlived Sir Thomas some ten years, 
Sir Tho. never enjoied his Father's inheritance.  and therefore Sir Thomas never enjoyed almost any inhericance from his Father; insomuch, that he affirmed in his apology which he wrote about this time, that in all his revenues and pensions, except that which had been granted by Letters Patents from the King of his mere liberality; viz. the Manors of Duckingtan, Frinkford, and Barly-park, in Oxfordshire, all the rest he saith amount not to above fifty pound per annum, as those which he had either by his Father, or by his Wife, or by his own purchase. Surely a most rare saying, 
Rare poverty in a Lord High Chancellor.  and as honourable to him as his profession: that one of the King's Council who had gone through so many Offices for almost twenty years should not be able to purchase one hundred pounds land.   

CHAP. XI.  

1 Sir THOMAS MORE's contempt of worldly honour declared in deposing the great Dignity of Chancellorship.  
2 His Resolution to live poorly.  
3 He prepareth himself for his sufferings as foreseeing them.  
4 He refuseth to be present at Queen Anne's Marriage.   

Upon Sir Thomas his suit to resign up his Office, the King graciously accepteth his desire.  NOw when the Duke being often solicited by Sir Thomas More had at length obtained of the King a clear discharge of his Office: then at a convenient time by his Highness' appointment, here-paired to his Grace to yield up unto him the Great Seal of England; which as his Majesty (with thanks and praise for his worthy service in that Office) courteously received at his hands; so also he said more unto him, that for the good service he before had done him, in any suit which he should after have unto him, that either should concern his honour or his profit, he should find him very good unto him.  

Of his Children living with him.  After he had thus given over the Chancellorship, and placed all his Gentlemen Yeomen with Bishops and Noble men, and his eight Watermen with the Lord Audly who succeeded him in his Office, to whom also he gave his great Barge: Then calling all his Children unto him, 
All his Children hitherto dwelled with him.  and ask their advice how they might now (in this decay of his ability, so much impaired by the surrender of his Office, that he could not now (as he was wont, and gladly would) bear out the whole charges of them all himself, so that from henceforth they should not be able to live and continue together, as he wished they might: when he saw them all silent, and none of them ready to show their opinions therein: Then will I, said he, show my poor mind unto you. I have been brought up at Oxford, at an Inn of Chancery, at Lincolns-Inne, 
An incomparable resolution after so great an honour to bear cheerfully so low an estate.  and also in the King's Court, and so forth, from the lowest degree unto the highest, and yet have I now in yearly Revenues left me little above one hundred pounds by the year, so that we must hereafter (if we will live together) be contented to become contributaries: but by my counsel it shall not be best for us to fall to the lowest fare first; we will not therefore descend to Oxford fare, nor to the fare of New Inn, but we will begin at Lincolns-Inne diet, where many right worshipful and of good years do live full well; which if we find ourselves not able the first year to maintain then will we the next year go one step down to New-inn fare, wherewith many an honest man is well contented: If that exceed our ability too, than we will the next year after descend to Oxford fare, where many grave, learned, and ancient fathers are continually conversant; which if our purses stretch not to maintain neither, then may we yet with bags and wallets go a begging together, and hoping that for pity some good people will bestow on us their Charity, at every man's door sing a Salve Regina, and so still keep company, and be merry together. Truly a worthy resolution, wherein he seems to express much love to his Children, but more to God; taking so patiently whatsoever might befall him: for surely he that provides for the worst, will be much the better prepared to endure lesser afflictions.  

Honourable poverty in so great a personage.  And whereas you have heard before how he was by the King from a very handsome livelihood, 400 l. per annum, taken into his Grace's service to deal in the greatest and weightiest Causes that concerned his Highness and the Kingdom in which so painful cares and trouble, as well beyond the seas as at home, he had spent and consumed in effect the whole substance of his life; yet with all the gain he got theeeby, being never a wasteful spender thereof, was he not able after the resignation of his Office of the Lord Chancellor, for the maintenance of himself and such as necessarily belonged unto him, sufficiently to find meat, fuel, drink, apparel, and such other necessary charges. All the land that ever he purchased (which also he purchased before he was Lord Chancellor) was not, saith Mr, Rooper, above the value of twenty mark a year. And after his debts paid, (as the same Mr. Rooper testifies) he had not (his Chain excepted) in Gold and Silver left him the worth of one hundred pounds, and therefore all his Children went to live of themselves.  
And whereas upon the holy days, during his High-Chancellorship, one of his Gentlemen, when service at the Church was done, always used to come to his Lady's pew, and said, Madam, My Lord is gone: the next holy day after the surrender of his Office and departure of his Gentlemen, he came to his Wife's pew himself, and making a low congee, said unto her, Madam, My Lord is gone. She imagining all this to be but some humour of his in order to some design, took little notice of it; but when upon the way as they were going home, 
A pleasant jest to divert his wife from sorrow.  he sadly affirmed unto her that it was true what he said; for he had resigned up his Office, and the King had graciously accepted it: she being very sorry to hear it said unto him, Tille valle, What will you do, Mr. More? will you sit and make Goslings in the Ashes? Is it not better to rule, then to be ruled? But to requite her brave mind, he began to find fault with her dressing, for which she chiding her daughters that none of them could espy it, they still saying they could find none: Sir Tho, merrily said, Do you not perceive that your Mother's nose standeth somewhat awry? At which words she stepped away from him in a rage. All which he did to m●ke her think the less of her decay of honour, which else would have much troubled her.  

His remote preparations for suffering.  In the time somewhat before his troubles, he would discourse with his wife and children, of the joys of Heaven, and pains of Hell: of the lives of holy Martyrs, what torments they endured for the love of God: 
Continual talking of spiritual matters.  of their marvellous patience, and of their passions and deaths, rather than they would offend God, and what a happy and blessed thing it was, for the love of God, to suffer loss of goods, imprisonment, loss of lands and life also: adding with all, that upon his faith if he might perceive his wife and children would encourage him to die in a good cause, it would make him merrily run to death. He told them afore hand what troubles were like to befall him; wherewith, and the like virtuous discourse, he had so long before his troubles encouraged them, that when he after fell into them indeed, their afflictions were a great deal the less: Quia spicula praevisa minus laedunt.  

A good lesson for a Statesman.  Within a while after the resignment of his Office, came Sir Thomas Cromwell, (then in the King's high favour) to Ghelsey to him in a message from his Highness, wherein when they had throughly conferred together, Sir Thomas said unto him, Mr. Cromwell, You are now entered into the service of a most noble, wise, and liberal Prince; if you will follow my poor advice, you shall in your Counsel giving unto his Majesty, ever tell him what he ought to do, but never what he is able to do; so shall you show yourself a true faithful Servant, and a right worthy Counsellor: for if the Lion knew his own strength, hard were it for any man to rule him.  

The marriage concluded at St. Alban to be lawful.  Shortly hereupon, was there a Commission granted under the Great Seal, and directed to Cranmer then Bishop of Canterbury, to determine the marriage between the King and Queen Katherine at St. Alban: where, according to the King's mind, it was throughly concluded; who pretending he had no justice at the Pope's hands, from thenceforth sequestered himself and his Kingdom from the See of Rome, and so married the Lady Anne Bullen: which Sir Thomas More understanding, said unto Mr. Rooper, God give grace, son, that these matters within a while be not confirmed with Oaths.  
It fortuned not long before the coming of Queen Anne through the streets of London, 
Sir Thomas More refuseth to be at Q Ann's marriag.  from the Tower to Westminster, to her Coronation, that Sir Thomas received a letter from the Bishops of Durham, Bath, and Winchester, desiring him to keep them company from the Tower to the Coronation, and also to take twenty pounds that by the Bearer thereof they had sent him to buy him a Gown: which he thankfully receiving (yet tarrying still at home) at their next meeting said merrily unto them, My Lords, in the letters which you lately sent me, 
His counsel and prediction to the Bishops his friends  you requested two things of me, the one whereof sith I was so well content to grant you, the other therefore I thought I might be the bolder to deny you. And like as the one, because I took you for no beggars and myself I knew to be no rich man, I thought I might the rather fulfil; so the other did put me in remembrance of an Emperor that had ordained a Law, 
A notable story prophetically applied.  that whosoever committed a certain offence (which I now remember not) except it were a Virgin should suffer death, such a reverence had he to Virginity. Now so it happened, that the first that violated this Law was a Virgin, whereof the Emperor hearing was in no small perplexity, as he that by some example would fain have that Law put in execution: whereupon when his Council had sat long solemnly debating this Case, suddenly there rose up one of his Council, a good plain man amongst them, and said, Why make you so much ado my Lords about so small a matter? Let her first be deflowered, and then after may she be devoured. And so though your Lordships have in the matter of the Matrimony hitherto kept yourselves pure Virgins, yet take good heed, My Lords, that you keep your Virginity still: for some there be that by procuring your Lordship's first at the Coronation to be present, and next to preach for setting forth of it, 
His resolution rather to be devoured then deflowered.  and lastly to write books to all the World in defence thereof, are desirous to deflower you, and then will they not fail soon after to devour you. Now My Lords (said he) it lieth not in my power, but that they may devour me; but, God being my good Lord I will provide that they shall never deflower me.   

CHAP. XII.  

1 The beginning of the King's indignation.  
2 Sir THOMAS MORE disposeth himself more immediately to suffer death.  
3 Divers accusations procured against Sir THO. all easily avoided by his innocence.  
4 The Nun of Canterbury first occasion of calling Sir T. M. in Question concerning Qu. Anne.  
5 His first examination before the King's Deputies.  
6 His merry heart and gallant resolution after his Examination.   
IN continuance when the King perceived that he could by no means win him to his side; then behold the fair sunshine day of his favours became overcast, 
The king's displeasure  & there followed a notable storm; for now he went about by terror and threats to drive him thereto: But see how Sir Thomas prepares himself for this valiant combat; 
Sir Thomas his more immediate preparation for death.  having given over his Office of Chancellorship he never meddled with State matters any more, but gave himself wholly the year before his troubles not only to write books in defence of his Religion as I have said, but also addicted himself to great acts of Mortification, prayer, and piety: he lessened his family, he fold his household stuff to the value of one hundred pounds, he disposed his Children into their own houses, and many nights he slept not for thinking the worst that could happen unto him: he hired a Pursuivant to come suddenly to his house when he was one time at dinner, 
A Christian stratagem.  and knocking hastily at his door to warn him the next day to appear before the Commissioners, to arm his family the better for future calamities.  

The first occasion of calling him in question for Q. Anne.  And now begin his troubles first by occasion of a certain Nun dwelling in Canterbury, for her virtue and holiness not a little esteemed of among the people in those days: unto whom for that cause many religious persons, Doctors of Divinity, 
The Nun of Kent warned by revelation to rebuke K. Henry.  and divers Laymen of good repute used to resort: who affirming that she had revelations from God to give the King warning of his wicked life, and of the abuse of the sword and authority committed to him, and understanding the Lord Rochester, Bishop Fisher, 
She conferreth her revelation with Bish. Fisher.  to be a man famous for his virtuous life and learning, went to Rochester, and there disclosed unto him all her revelations, desiring his advice and counsel therein: who thereupon advised her (as she before had warning, and intended) to go to the King herself, and to let him understand the whole circumstance thereof: whereupon she went to the King and told him all her revelation and so returned home again to her Cloister.  

Her talk with Sir Tho. More.  Not long after, she making a journey to the Nuns of Zion, by means of one Mr. Reynold a Father of that house, it happened that she fell into discourse with Sir Thomas More concerning such secrets as had been revealed unto her. Sir Thomas (as it after appeared) in all his communications with her, had so discreetly demeaned himself that he deserved not to be blamed, but contrarily commended and praised.  

Accusatians' procuredagainst Sir Tho. More. That he impugned the King's marriage.  After the Divorce was pronounced, there was a book put out by authority from the Council, which laid down the reasons why this divorce was done: strait after, it was rumoured abroad, that Sir Thomas More had answered and confuted this Book. Of which slander Sir Thomas cleared himself by a letter to Mr. Cromwell then Secretary, and in the King's great favour; showing by many Arguments, that he neither would nor could confute that Book: why 〈…〉 large in the latter end 〈…〉 mas his works. Butler to  

●…rrels picked against his Chancellorship.  But for all his purging in 〈…〉 accusation came thick and 〈…〉 fell upon him; and, had he not been one of singular integrity, (that in all his great offices and doings for the King and Kingdom so many years together, had from all corruption, wrong doing, or bribes taking kept himself so clear that no man was able once to blemish him therewith) without doubt every light matter (in this troublesome time of the King's indignation to him) had been deeply laid to his charge, and of the King at that time most favourably accepted, as in the Case of one Parnel it most manifestly appeared. This Parnel grievously complained against Sir Thomas More, because, when he was Lord Chancellor, at the suit of one Vaughan his adversary, 
A supposed Bribe pleasantly confuted  he had made a decree against him; for which at his wife's hand (Mr. Vaughan himself being unable for the Gout to 〈…〉) Sir Thomas had re●…eat gilt Cup as a bribe: ●…learing of which accusati 〈…〉 Thomas by the King's appointment being called before the whole Council, where that matter was heinously laid to his charge, presently confessed, that forasmuch as that Cup was long after the foresaid decree brought him for a new● years-gift, he upon her importunate pressing on him, therefore of courtesy refused not to receive it. Then the Lord of Wiltshire (Queen Ann's father and preferrer of this suit) (who hated Sir Thomas More, because he had not consented to his daughter's marriage) with much joy said unto the Lords, Lo my Lords, did not I tell you that you should find the matter true? Whereupon Sir Th●mas desired their honours that as they had courteously heard him tell the one part of his Tale, so they would vouchsafe of their honours indifferently to hear the other: which being granted, he further declared, that although he had indeed with much urging received that Cup, yet immediately thereupon he caused his Butler to fill it with Win●, and therein drank to her; and when she had pledged him, Then as freely as her husband had given it to him, even so freely gave he the same unto her again to give unto her husband for his New-years-gift: which at his instant request, though much against her will, yet at length she was fain to receive, as herself and certain others before them there presently deposed. Thus was the great mountain converted (scarce) to a little molehill.  

A courteous refususal of an honest reward.  At another time, upon a New-years-day too, there came unto him one Mistress Croaker a very rich Gentlewoman, for whom with no small pains he had made a Decree in Chancery against the Lord Arundel (never fearing in an act of justice, any nobility of blood or greatness of personage) who presented him with a pair of Gloves and forty pounds in. Angels in them for a New-years-gift, of whom he thankfully received the Gloves, but refusing the Money said unto her; Mistress, Since it were against good manners to forsake a Gentlewomans New-year's gift, I am content to take your Gloves; but as for the lining I utterly refuse it: and so caused her to take her gold again; though much against her mind.  

Another of like nature.  And one Mr. Gresham having at the same time a Cause depending in the Chancery against him, sent him, for a New-years-gift, a fair guilded Cup: the fashion whereof pleased him so well, that he caused one of his own (though not in his fancy of so good a fashion, yet better in value) to be brought out of his Chamber, which he desired the messenger in recompense to deliver to his Master; and under no other conditions would he in any wise receive it.  
Many things more of like effect for the declaration of this man's innocency and clearness from all corruption or evil affectionm might be here rehearsed, which for tediousness sake are purposely omitted, it being referred to the Readers by those few forementioned examples wisely to weigh & consider:  

Sir Thomas his first examinations.  At the Parliament following there was a Bill put into the lower House to attach the Nun, and divers other religious persons of high treason; and the Bishop of Rochester, Sir Thomas More, and some other of misprision of treason; The King presupposing that this Bill would be so grievous and terrible unto Sir Thomas More, that it would force him to relent and condescend to his request: wherein his Highness, as it afterwards appeared, was much mistaken: for Sir Thomas More sued that he might be admitted into the Parliament to make his own defence personally; which the King not liking assigned the Bishop of Canterbury, 
The king's Deputies to attach Sir Thomas More.  the Lord Chancellor, the Duke of Norfolk, and Mr. Cromwell, at a day and place appointed, to call Sir Thomas More before them.  

Their fair words to win him.  At whose appearance according to their appointment, they entertained him very friendly, desiring him to sit down amongst them, which in no wise he would do. Then began the Lord Chancellor to declare unto him, how many ways the King had showed his love and favour to him, how fain he would have had him continue in his Office, how glad he would have been to have heaped more favours upon him; and lastly, how he could ask no worldly honour and profit at his Highness' hands that were likely to be denied him, hoping by the declaration of the King's kindness and affection tomards him, to cause him to recompense his Grace with the like again; and unto those things the Parliament the Bishops and Universities had already subscribed, to add his consent also. 
Fairly answered with a mild and constant refusal.   
To this Sir Thomas More mildly made answer, saying, No man living is there (My Lords), that would with better will do anything that should be acceptable to the King's Highness than myself, who must needs confess his great favours and bountiful goodness most liberally bestowed on me; howbeit I verily hoped that I should never have heard of this matter more, considering that I have from time to time always from the beginning so plainly and truly declared my mind unto his Grace, which his Highness to me ever seemed, like a most gracious Prince to accept, never intending (as he then said) to molest me more therewith: since which time any further thing that was able to move me to any change, could Inever find: and if I could, there is none in all the world could have been gladder of it then I.  

The Deputies threats.  Many speeches more concerning this were uttered on both sides, but in the end when they saw they could by no manner of persuasions remove him from his former determination, than began they more terribly to threaten him, telling him that the King's Highness had commanded them if they could by no gentleness win him, in his name to charge him with his great ingratitude, that never was there servant to his Sovereign so villainous, nor subject to his Prince so traitorous as he: For he by his subtle sinister sleights (most unnaturally procuring and provoking him to set forth a book of the assertion of the seven Sacraments and maintenance of the Pope's Authority) had caused him to his dishonour throughout all Christendom to put a sword in the Pope's hands t● fight against himself. 
Sir Thomas More accused for Author of the Kings Bo●k for the Pope. His evident refutation.  When they had thus laid forth all the terror they could against him.  
My Lords (said he) These terrors be arguments for Children, not for me; but to answer that wherewith you do chiefly charge me, I believe the King's Highness of his honour will never lay that to my charge; for none is there that can in that point say more in mine excuse then his Highness himself, who right well knoweth that I never was Procurer nor Counsellor of his Majesty thereto: but after it was finished, by his Grace's appointment, and consent of the makers of the same, I was only a sorter out and placer of, the principal matters therein contained; wherein I found the Pope's Authority highly advanced, and with strong Arguments highly defended. I said unto his Majesty, I must put your Highness in remembrance of one thing, and that is this; The Pope, as your Grace knoweth, is a Prince as you are, 
Wise and wary counsel of Sir Tho. to the King.  and in league with all other Christian Princes; it may hereafter so fall out that your Grace and he may vary upon some points of the league whereupon may grow breach of amity and war between you both: I think it best that that place be amended and his authority more slenderly touched. Nay, said his Grace, that shall not be; we are so much bounden to the See of Rome, 
the King acknowledgeth the obligation of his Crown to Rome.  that we cannot do too much honour unto it. Then did I further put him in mind of the Statute of Praemunire, whereby a good part of the Pope's pastoral cure was pared away. To that answered his Highness, Whatsoever impediment be to the contrary, we will set forth that Authority to the uttermost: for we received from the See of Rome our Crown imperial: Which till his Grace with his own mouth told it me, I never heard of before. So that I trust, when that his Majesty shall be truly informed of this, and call to his gracious remembrance my dealing in that behalf, his Highness will never speak of it more, but clear me throughly therein himself. With which words in great displeasure they dismissed him and departed.  

His merry heart after his examination.  Then took Sir Thomas More his Boat towards Chelsey, where by the way he was very merry; which Mr. Rooper much rejoiced at, supposing that he had got himself discharged out of the Bill. When he was landed and come home they walked in his Garden, where Mr. Rooper said unto him, I trust Sir all is well because you are so merry. It is so indeed son I thank God. Are you then put out of the Parliament Bill, said Mr. Rooper? By my troth Son I never remembered that: Never remembered it! Sir, said he, a Case that toucheth yourself so near, and us all for your sake! I am very sorry to hear it, for I verily trusted, when I saw you merry, that all had been well. Then replied Sir Thomas, wouldst thou know son, why I was so merry? 
A fall given to the Devil.  In good faith I rejoiced that I had given the Devil so foul a fall, and that with those Lords I had gone so far, as without great shame I coul'd never go back again.  

The King's indignation against Sir Tho. More.  Now upon the report made by my Lord Chancellor and the other Lords to the King of Sir Thomas Moor's examination, the King was so much offended with him, that he plainly told them, he was fully determined that the foresaid Parliament Bill should certainly proceed forth against him: to whom the Lord Chancellor and the rest of the Lords said, that they perceived the upper house so powerfully bend to hear Sir Thomas make answer in his own defence, that if he were not put out of the Bill, it would without fail be an utter ●overthrow to all: but for all this, the King would needs have his own will, or else he said he would be personally present himself at the passing of it. Then the Lord Audley and the rest, seeing he was so vehemently set upon it, on their knees most humbly besought his Grace to forbear, considering, that if he should in his own presence receive an overthrow, 
Prudent and politic advine in so bad a Cause.  it would not only encourage his Subjects ever after to contemn him, but also redound to his dishonour for ever throughout all Christendom: telling him, that they doubted not in time to find some better occasion to serve his Grace's turn; for in this case of the Nun, he was accounted, they said, so innocent and clear, that for his dealing therein men thought him worthier of praise then reproof. Whereupon at length, through their earnest persuasion, he was content to condescend to their Petition, 
Proceeding against Sir Tho. More deferred.  and on the morrow after, Mr. Cromwell meeting M. Rooper in the Parliament House, wished him to tell his Father, that he was put out of the Parliament Bill, who because he had that day appointed to dine in London, sent the message by his servant to his Wise at Chelsey, whereof when she informed her father, In faith Meg, said he, Quod differtur, non aufertur.  
After this the Duke of Norfolk and Sir Thomas More chanced to sal in discourse together, 
A gallant answer to a friends fear.  and amongst other talk, the Duke said unto him, By the mass, Mr. More, it is perilous striving with Princes, and therefore I would wish you somewhat to incline to the King's pleasure: for, By God's Body Mr. More, Indignatio Principis Mors est. Is that all? (My Lord) said Sir Thomas: Then in good saith is there no more difference betwixt your Grace and me, but that I shall die to day, and you to morrow.   

CHAP. XIII.  

1 Sir THOMAS MORE refuseth the Oath of Supremacy and succession.  
2 Sir MORE's imprisonment first in Westminster, then in the Tower.  
3 His discourse with his daughter Margaret.  
4 A Dialogue between him and his Wife the Lady MORE.  
5 Mr. Rich his Case.  
6 His Books taken from him.   

The Oath of supremacy.  NOw it fell out within a month or thereabouts, after the enacting of the Statute for the Oath of the Supremacy and Matrimony, that all the Priests of London and Westminster (yet no temporal man but Sir Thomas More) were summoned to appear at Lambeth before the Bishop of Canterburry, 
Sir Tho. cited to take it.  the Lord Chancellor, and Secretary Cromwell, Commissioners appointed there to tender the Oath unto them.  

His preparation before his going.  Then Sir Thomas More, as his custom was always, ere he entered into any business of importance, (as when he was first chosen one of the King's privy Council, when he was sent Ambassador, appointed Speaker of the Parliament, made Lord Chancellor, or took any such weighty matter upon him) first to go to Church and be confessed, to hear Mass and receive the Sacrament, so did he likewise in the morning early the very day that he was summoned to appear before the Lords at Lambeth: and whereas he used always before at his departure from his Wife and Children whom he tenderly loved, to have them bring him to his Boat, and there he kissing them all bade them sarewell, now he would suffer none of them to come forth of the Gate, but pulled the wicket after him, and with a heavy heart (as by his countenance it appeared) with his Son Rooper, and their four servants, he took boat towards Lambeth, wherein sitting still sadly a while, at last he rounded his Son in the ear, and said, Son Rooper, I thank our Lord, the field is Won. What he meant thereby his Son wist not, yet loath to seem ignorant, he answered, Sir I am very glad of it.  

His discreet behaviour in that cause.  How wisely he demeaned himself before the Commissioners at the ministration of the Oath unto him may be found in certain letters of his scent to his Daughter Margaret, which are printed at the latter end of his English works, the effect whereof is this: After he was called before them, he requested of them to see the Oath, which when he had read unto himself, he answered, That he neither would find fault with the Oath, nor with the Authors of it, 
He resuseth the Oath for conscience sake.  nor would blame the Conscience of any man that had taken it, but for himself he could not take it without endangering his soul of eternal damnation; which if they doubted of, he would swear unto them that that was the chief cause of his refusal; in which second Oath if they doubted to trust him, how could they then trust him in the former? Which he having said, my Lord Chancellor replied, That all there were heartily sorry he should make such an answer, for they constantly affirmed that he was the first man that denied to take it, which would greatly aggravate the King's displeasure against him. And forthwith they showed him a Catalogue of the Nobility, and many others who had taken it, and had subscribed their names thereunto.  

All the Clergy but Bish. Fisher and D. Wilson did take the Oath.  Yet because he would not blame any man's conscience therein, he was commanded to walk into the Garden a while, then presently all the Clergy men, some Bishops, many Doctors, and Priests, were called in, who all took it, except Bishop Fisher, and one Doctor Wilson) without any scruple at all.  

Upon what conditions Sir Tho. offered to set down his reasons of refusal.  After all these had soon dispatched the business for which they were sent for, Sir Thomas was called in again, and the names of all that had taken the Oath were showed him, whereunto for himself he answered as before: then they often objected unto him obstinacy, because he would neither take it, nor give any reason why he refused it; to which he replied, That his denial only would provoke the King's indignation sufficiently against him, and therefore he was loath any further to aggravate his displeasure, showing what urgent necessity drew him unto it; howbeit if his Majesty would testify that his expressing the Causes wherefore he refused it would not provoke against him his further anger, he would not stick to set them down in writing, and if any man could satisfy those reasons to the content of his conscience, he would take the Oath most willingly. Then Cranmer Lord Archbishop urged unto him, that seeing he was not certain of his Conscience, 
Sir More's offer proceedeth not of uncertainty, but because he was sure his reasons were unaswerable.  but that it was a thing certain, he must obey his Prince, therefore was he to reject that doubtful conscience of his, and stick to the latter which was undoubted.  
And when the Abbot of Westminster had said, that he might very well suspect his own conscience to be erroneous, because he alone would seem to control all the Wisdom of the whole Realm, who had made and taken it: Thereto Sir Thomas answered, 
All Christendom of more authority than all England.  That if he alone should stand against so worthy a Kingdom, he had great cause to fear his own conscience: but, if that on his side he could produce a far greater number, of as learned men as they; he thought himself than not bound to reform his conscience by following the consent of one Kingdom against a general received opinion of the whole Christian world.  

The Oath of succession.  Then asked they him whether he would swear to the succession: to which he answered, That he was willing enough to do that, if the Oath were set down in such words as he might safely take it. Then said the Lord Chancellor, See Mr. Secretary, he will not swear to that neither, but under a certain form of words. No truly, replied Sir Thomas, except I find that I may swear it without danger of perjury, and with a safe Conscience.  
When he had thus behaved himself, he was committed to the custody of the Abbot of Westminster for four days, 
Sir More's imprisonment first in Westminster.  during which time the King consulted with his Council, what order were best to be taken with him; and although at first they resolved he should be discharged with an Oath not to be known whether he had sworn to the Supremacy or no, or what he thought thereof, yet Queen Anne by her importunate clamour did so sore exasperate the King against him, that contrary to his former resolution, 
Then by Q. Anne's importunity in the Tower.  he caused the said Oath of the Supremacy to be ministered unto him: who although he made a discreet qualified answer, nevertheless was presently committed to the Tower: who as he was going thither (wearing as he commonly did a chain of Gold about his neck) Sir Rich. Wink field that had the charge of his conveyance thither, advised him to send home his Chain to his Wife or some of his children, Nay Sir, said he, that I will not, for if I were taken in the field by mine enemies, I would they should somewhat far the better for me.  
At his landing Mr. Lieutenant at the Tower-gate was ready to receive him, 
The upper garment the Porters Fee.  where the Porter demanded of him his upper garment, Mr. Porter, said he, here it is, and took off his C●p and gave it him, saying, I am sorry it is no better for thee. No Sir, said the Porter, I must have your Gown; which he gave him. And so was he by Mr. Lieutenant conveyed to his lodging, where he called unto him one John Wood his servant there appointed to attend him, who could neither write nor read, and swore him before the Lieutenant, 
His man's Oath.  that if he should hear or see him at any time speak or write any manner of thing against the King, the Council, or the State of the Realm, he should tell it to the Lieutenant that he might presently reveal it to the Council.  

His discourse with his daughter Margaret.  Now when Sir Thomas had remained in the Tower something more than a month, his daughter Margaret longing to see him, at length got leave to go to him; at whose coming, 
Prevented with Prayers.  after the seven Psalms and Litany said (which whensoever she came to him, before he would talk of any worldly affairs, 
The comfort he found in his imprisonment.  he used to say with her;) among other discourse he said unto her, I believe Meg that they which have put me here think they have done me a high displeasure, But I assure you on my Faith, (mine own good daughter) that if it had not been for my wife and you my children whom I account the chief part of my charge, I would not have failed long ere this, to have closed myself in as strait a room as this and straighter too: But since I am come hither without my own desert, I trust that God of his goodness will discharge me of my care, and by his gracious help supply the want of my presence among you: I find no cause (I thank God) Meg to reckon myself in worse case here, then in mine own house. For me thinketh God maketh me a wanton, and setteth me on his lap and dandleth me. Thus by his gracious demeanour in his troubles, it evidently appeared, that all the calamities that ever befell him, by his patient sufferance of them were to him no painful punishments, but rather profitable exercises of his patience.  
And at another time, when he had fi●st enquired of his daughter concerning the order of his wife, 
Sir Thomas More. foretelleth Q Anne's death.  and children, and state of his family in his absence, he asked her how Queen Anne did, In faith father (said she) never better, there is nothing else in the Court but dancing, and sporting. Never better Meg! (said he) Alas, Meg, Alas, it pitieth me to remember into what misery poor soul she shall shortly come, but in the mean time these dances of hers will prove such dances, that they will spurn our heads off like foothals.  

His pleasant answer to his Keeper's honest excuse.  After this Mr. Lieutenant coming into his Chamber to visit him related unto him the many favours and friendships he had often received at his hands, and therefore how | much bound he was friendly and nobly to entertain him, which since (the Case standing ●s it did) he could not do without the King's displeasure, he trusted, he said, he would accept of his good will, and such poor fare as he had: Master Lieutenant (said Sir Thomas More again) I verily believe, as you may, so are you my good friend indeed, and would, as you say, with your best cheer entertain me; for which I most heartily thank you; and assure yourself, Master Lieutenant, I do not mislike my cheer, but whensoever I do, than thrust me out of your doors.  

The ignorance of the Oath makers.  Now, whereas the Oath of Supremacy, and Matrimony, was in the first statute comprised in few words, the Lord Chancellor and the Secretary did of the●r own heads add more words unto it, to make it appear unto the King's ears more pleasant and plausible; and that Oath so amplified, they then caused to be tendered to Sir Thomas More and others throughout the Kingdom: which Sir Thomas perceiving, said unto his daughter, I may tell thee Meg, they that have committed me hither, for refusing of this Oath not agreeable with the Statute, are not able by their own law to justify my imprisonment: and surely daughter it is great pity that any Christian Prince should by a flexible Council ready to follow his affections, with flattery so shamefully be abused. But at length the Lord Chancellor and the Secretary espying their oversight in that business, were fain afterwards to cause another Statute to be enacted for the confirmation of the Oath so amplified with their additions.  
As Sir Thomas (looking out of his window) chanced to see one Mr. Raynolds a Father of Zion, and three Monks of the Charter-house, 
His meditation on death upon the execution of 24 Religious men.  for the business of the Matrimony and Supremacy going out of the Tower to their execution, he, as longing to accompany them in that journey, said unto his daughter, then standing by him, Lo, dost thou not see (Meg) that these reverend Fathers are as cheerfully going to their deaths as bridgrooms to their marriage; wherefore hereby mayst thou see (mine own good daughter) what a great difference there is between such as have in effect spent all their days in a strait hard, painful, and penitential life religiously, and such as have in the world like worldly wretches (as thy poor father) consumed all their time in pleasure and ease, licentiously: for God considering their long continued life in most sore and grievous pain, will no longer suffer them to remain here in this vale of misery and iniquity, but speedily taketh them hence to the fruition of his everlasting Deity: whereas thy silly Father (Meg) that like a most wicked Caitiff hath passed forth the whole course of his life most, sinfully; God thinking him not worthy to come so soon to that eternal felicity, leaveth him here yet still in the world further to be prolonged and turmoiled with misery.  
A while after Mr. Secretary coming to him into the Tower from the King, 
Secretary Cromwell hi● visit.  pretended much friendship towards him, and for his comfort told him, That the King was his good and gracious Lord, and intended not any more to trouble his conscience with any thing, wherein he should have cause of scruple. As soon as Mr. Secretary was gone, to express how much comforted he was by his words, he wrote with a coal, (for then he had no ink) these verses following. 
Eye flattering fortune, look thou ne'er so fair,  
Nor ne'er so pleasantly begin to smile,  
As though thou wouldst my ruin all repair,  
During my life thou shall not me beguile  
Trust I shall God to enter in a while.  
Thy haven of Heaven, sure and uniform,  
Ever after thy Calm look I for no storm.   

A pretty dialogue between Sir Tho. More and his Lady  When Sir Thomas More had continued a good while in the Tower his Lady obtained leave to see him, who, at her first coming, thus bluntly saluted him: What the good year Master More, said she, I marvel that you that have been always taken for so wise a man will now so play the fool, as to lie here in this close filthy prison, and be content thus to be shut up amongst mice and rats: and too when you might be abroad at your liberty, and with the favour and good will both of the King and his Council, if you would but do as all the Bishops and best learned of the Realm have done; and seeing you have at Chelsey a right fair House, your Library, your Gallery, your Garden, your Orchard, and all other necessaries so handsome about you, where you might in the company of me your Wife, your Children, and household be merry: I muse what a Gods name you mean here still thus fond to tarry. 
His answer.  After he had a while quietly heard her, with a very cheerful countenance he said unto her, Good Mrs. Alice tell me one thing. What is that? (said she) Is not this house as nigh heaven as mine own? 
The prison as near heaven as his own house.  To whom she (as not liking these words) answered after her manner, Tille valle, Tille valle. How say you, Mrs. Alice, said he, is it not so? Bone Deus, Bone Deus man, Will this gear never be left (said she.) Well then, Mrs. Alice, if it be so it is very well; but for my part I see no great cause why I should much joy in my gay house, or of any thing belonging thereunto, when if I should but seven years lie buried under ground, and then arise and come thither again, I should not fail to find some therein that would bid me get me out of doors, and tell me it were none of mine What cause have I then to like such a house as would so soon forget his Master? Again, tell me Mrs. Alice, how long do you think may we live and enjoy it? Some twenty years, said she. Truly, said Sir Thomas, if you had said some thousand years, 
Eternity to be preferred before Temporality.  it had been somewhat, and yet he were a very bad Merchant, that would put himself in danger to lose Eternity, for a thousand years; how much the rather if we are not sure to enjoy it one day to an end? And thus her persuasions moved him but little.  
Not long after came there to him, 
Another visit.  the Lord Chancellor, the Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk, with Secretary Cromwell, and some others of the privy Council at two several times, to procure him by all means, either precisely to confess the King's Supremacy, or plainly to deny it; whereunto as appeareth by his examination set out in his English works, they could never bring him, because he was unwilling to aggravate the King's displeasure against himself, saying only, That the Statute was like a two edged sword; if he spoke against it, he should procure the death of his body; if he consented to it, he should purchase the death of his soul.  
Shortly hereup on Mr. Rich, (afterward Lord Rich) then newly made the King's Solicitor, Sir Ri. Southwell and one Mr. Palmer the Secretary's servant, were sent by the King to take away all his Books: Mr. Rich pretending friendly discourse with Sir Thomas, said unto him (as it proved after) of set purpose: Forasmuch as it is well known Mr. More, that you are a man both wise, and well learned, as well in the Laws of the Realm as otherwise, I pray you Sir let me be so bold as of good will to put unto you this case: 
Mr. Rich his Case  Admit there were an Act of Parliament made, that all the Realm should take me for King, would not you (Mr. More) take me for King? Yes Sir, said Sir Thomas More, that would I. I put case further, said Mr. Rich, That there were an Act of Parliament, that all the Realm should take me for Pope, would not you then take me for Pope? For answer, said Sir Thomas, to your first Case, the Parliament may well meddle with the state of Temporal Princes; but to make answer to your other case, I will put you this Case: Suppose the Parliament would make a Law that God should not be God, would you then Mr. Rich say that God should not be God? 
Surely a poor ground for an Indictment of Treason. " No Sir, said he, since no Parliam." may make such a Law: No More (as Mr. Rich reported Sir Tho should say, but yet he made no such inference as he vouchsafed after to M. R. his face) could the Parliament make the King supreme head of the Church. Upon which report of Mr. Rich's Sir Thomas was shortly after indicted of high treason upon the new Statute of Supremacy, in which it was made treason to deny the King to be the Supreme head of the Church, into which judgement were put these heinous words, Maliciously, traitorously, and Diabolically.  

An accident very remarkable if true at the taking away of his Books.  He had a little before this begun a Divine Treatise of the passion of Christ; and as some write, when he came to expound those words of the Gospel, (And they laid hands upon him, and held him) these Gentlemen took from him all his Books, Ink, and Paper, so that he could go on no further. Which being done he applied himself wholly to meditation, keeping his Chamber windows fast shut and very dark, the occasion whereof the Lieutenant of the Tower ask him: 
His merry jest upon it.  He answered, When all the wares are gone the shop windows are to be shut up.  
When Sir Thomas More was brought from the Tower to Westminster-Hall to answer the indictment, and thereupon arraigned at the Kings-Bench Bar, 
The substance of the indictment.  where he had often asked his Father's blessing, he openly told the Judges that he would have abidden in law and demurred upon the indictment but that he thereby should have been driven to confess of himself that he had denied the King's Supremacy, which he protested he never did: wherefore he thereto pleaded not guilty, and reserved to himself advantage to be taken of the body of the matter after verdict, to avoid that in ditement: adding withal, that if only those odious terms, Maliciously, Traitorously, and Diabolically were taken out of the Indictment, he saw nothing in it that should justly charge him of any Treason.   

CHAP. XII.  

1 Sir THOMAS MORE'S Arraignment.  
2 His answer to the Indictment.  
3 Mr. Rich his Oath against Sir Thomas More clearly rejected.  
4. Sentence of Death pronounced against Sir Thomas More.   

The Arraignment of Sir Tho. More.  NOw when the King had endeavoured all means possible to get Sir Thomas his consent to his laws, (as knowing that his example would draw many more after him, being a man so eminent for wisdom and rare virtues) and could no way obtain his desire, he commanded him to be called to his arraignment at the Kings-Bench-Barre, having been prisoner at the Tower somewhat more than a twelvemonth: whither he went leaning on his staff, because he had been much weakened by his imprisonment, his countenance showing much cheerfulness and resolution. His Indictment (which was very long and odious) was read by the King's Attorney: 
His Indictment. The Judge's charges.  which being ended, the Lord Chancellor and the Duke of Norfolk, spoke to this effect unto him. You see now how grievously you have offended his Majesty yet he is so merciful, that if you will but leave your obstinacy, and change your opinion, we hope you may obtain pardon of his Highness.  

His resolution.  Whereunto Sir Thomas resolutely replied thus: Most noble Lords, I have great cause to thank your Honours for this your courtesy; but I beseech Almighty God that I may continue in the mind I am in through his Grace unto death.  
After this he was permitted to say what he could in his own defence in answer to his Indictment, 
Sir Thomas his answer to the indictment.  who thereupon began as followeth.  
When I think how long my accusation is, and what heinous matters are laid to my charge, I am strucken with fear lest my memory and wit, both which are decaled together with the health of my body through a long impediment contracted by my imprisonment, be not now able to answer these things on the sudden, as I ought, and otherwise could.  
After this, there was brought him a chair, on which when he was sat he proceeded thus.  

1. How sincerely he had always told the King his mind concerning the marriage.  There are four principal heads if I be not deceived, of this my Indictment, every one of which (God willing) I purpose to answer in order. To the first that is objected against me, to wit, That I have been an enemy of a stubborness of mind to the King's second marriage; I confess that I always told the King my opinion therein as my conscience dictated unto me, which I neither would or ought to have concealed; I am so far from thinking myself guilty of high Treason, as that, on the contrary, I being demanded my opinion by so great a Prince in a matter of such importance, whereupon the quietness of a Kingdom dependeth, If I should have basely flattered him against my own Conscience, and not uttered the truth as I thought, than I should worthily have been accounted a wicked subject, and a perfidious traitor to God.  
Herein I had offended the King (if it can be an offence to tell one's mind plainly when our Prince asketh us) I suppose I have been already punished enough for this fault with most grievous afflictions, 
The continuation of his imprisonment and afflictions.  with the loss of all my goods, and committed to perpetual imprisonment, having been shut up already almost these fifteen months.  

2. Why he refused to tell his judgement of the law of Supremacy.  My second accusation is, that I have transgressed the Statute in the last Parliament, that is to say, being a Prisoner and twice examined by the Lords of the Council, I would not disclose unto them my opinion (of a malignant, perfidious, obstinate and traitorous mind) whether the Ki were Supreme head of the Church or no but answered them that this Law belonged not unto me, whether it were just or unjust, because I did not enjoy any benefit from the Church; yet I then protested, that I never had said or done any thing against it, 
Laymen not concerned in this Law.  neither can any one word or action of mine be produced, to make me culpable; yea this I confess was then my speech unto their Honours, that hereafter I would think of nothing else, but of the bitter passion of our blessed Saviour, and of my passage out of this miserable world. I wish no harm to any, and if this will not keep me alive, I desire not to live. By all which I know that I could not transgress any Law, or incur any crime of treason; for neither this Statute nor any Law in the world can punish any man for holding his peace; 
No law can punish silence that is without malice.  for they only can punish either words or deeds God only being Judge of our secret thoughts.  
At which words, because indeed they were very urgent, the King's Attorney interrupted him, 
Whether his silence were malicious.  and said Although we have not one word or deed of yours to object against you yet have we your Silence, which is an evident sign of a malicious mind, because no dutiful subject, being lawfully asked this question, will refuse to answer. To which Sir Thomas answered;  
My silence is no sign of any malicious mind, which the King himself may know by many of my dealings, neither doth it convince any man of breach of your Law. For it is a Maxim amongst the Civilians, and Canonisty: Qui●acet, consentire videtur, He that holdeth his peace seemeth to consent. And as for that you say, 
Obedience first to God, then to man.  No good subject will refuse to answer directly I think it verily, the duty of a good subject, except he be such a subject as will be an evil Christian, rather to obey God then man, to have more care of offending his conscience then of any other matter in the world; especially if his conscience procure neither heavy scandal nor sedition to his Prince or Country, as mine hath not done; for I here protest unfeignedly, that I never revealed it to any man living.  

3. That he never counselled or induced B. Fisher.  I now come to the third capital matter of my Indictment, whereby I am accused, that I maliciously attempted, traitorously endeavoured, and perfidiously practised against this Statute as the words thereof affirm, because I wrote eight sundry packets of letters whilst I was in the Tower unto Bishop Fisher, by which I exhorted him to break the same Law; and induced him to the like obstinacy. 
The contents of his letters to the said Bishop  I would have these letters produced and read against me, which may either free me or convince me of a lie. But because you say the Bishop burned them all I will here tell the truth of the whole matter: Some were only of private matters; as about our old friendship and acquaintance; one of them was in answer to his, whereby he desired of me to know how I had answered in my examinations to this Oath of Supremacy: Touching which, this only I wrote unto him again, that I had already set led my conscience, let him settle his to his own good liking; and no other answer I gave him, God is my witness, as God I hope shall save this my soul and this I trust is no breach of your Laws.  

4. The law of Supremacy like a two-edged sword.  The last objected crime is, that being examined in the Tower, I did say that this Law was like a two-edged Sword; for in consenting thereto I should endangen my soul, in refusing it, I should lose my life: Which answer, because Bishop Fisher made the like, it is evidently gathered, as you say, that we both conspired together. Whereto I reply, that my answer there was but conditional; if there be danger in both either to allow or disallow this Statute and therefore like a two-edged Sword, it seemeth a hard thing, that it should be offered to me, that never have hitherto contradicted it either in word, or deed. These were my words; what the Bishop answered, I know not. If his answer were like mine it proceeded not from any conspiracy of ours, but from the likeness of our wits and learning. To conclude, I unfeignedly avouch that I never spoke word against this Law to any living man; although perhaps his Majesty hath been told the contrary.  
To this full answer the Attorney replied no more, but the word Malice, was in the mouth of all the Court, but no man could produce either word or deed to prove it, 
Mr. Rich his Oath against Sir Tho. More.  yet for all this, for proof to the Jury that Sir Thomas More was guilty of this Treason, Mr. Rich was called forth to give evidence unto them upon his Oath; which he did affirming that which was spoken of before in their discourse in the Tower: against whom now sworn Sir Thomas began in this manner to speak: If I were a man, my Lords, that did not regard an Oath, I needed not at this time in this place (as it is well known to you all) stand as an accused person. 
Disproved by Sir Th. Oath to the contrary.  And if this Oath (Mr. Rich) which you have taken be true, than I pray that I may never see God in the face, which I would not say, were it otherwise to gain the whole world.  
Then did he recite before the Council the whole discourse of all their communication in the Tower, according as it was truly, 
His exception against the witness as unworthy of credit.  adding this:  
In good faith Mr. Rich I am more sorry for your perjury then for mine own peril, and know you, that neither I nor any man else to my knowledge ever took you to be a man of such credit, as that I or any other would vouch safe to communicate with you in any matter of importance. You know that I have been acquainted with your manner of light & conversation a long space even from your youth to this time; for we dwelled long together in one parish, whereas yourself can well tell, (I am sorry you compel me to speak it) you were always esteemed very light of your tongue, a great dicer and gamester, and not of any commendable fame either there or at your house at the Temple, where hath been your bringing up. Can it therefore seem likely to your Honourable Lordships, that in so weighty a cause I should so unadvisedly overshoot myself as to trust M. Rich, a man always reputed of me for a man of so little truth and honesty, so far above my Sovereign Lord the King, to whom I am so deeply indebted for his manifold favours, or any of his noble and grave Counsellors that I would declare only to Mr Rich the secrets of my Conscience touching the King's Supremacy, the special point & only mark so long sought for at my hands; which I never did nor ever would reveal after the statute once made either to the King's Highness or to any of his noble Counsellors, as it is well known to your Honours, who have been sent, for no other purpose, at sundry several times from his Majesty's person to me in the Tower. I refer it therefore to your judgements My Lords, whether this can seem a thing credible to any of you.  

If it had been true there had been no Malice.  And if I had done as Mr. Richardo hath sworn, seeing it was spoken but in familiar secret talk affirming nothing, but only in putting of Cases, without any unpleasing circumstances, it cannot justly be taken for Maliciously, and where there is no malice there ●an be no offence. Besides this (My Lords) I cannot think that so many worthy Bishops, so many honourable personages, and so many worshipful, virtuous, and well learned men, as were in the Parliament assembled at the making of that Law, 
Malice in Law.  ever meant to have any man punished by death in whom there could be found no malice, taking Malitia for Malevolentia, for if Malitia be taken in a general signification for any sin no man is there that can excuse himself thereof, Quia si●dixerimus quod pecatum non habemus, nosmetipsos seducimus, & verit as in nobis non est. Wherefore this word Maliciously is only material in this Statute, as the word forcible is in the Statute of Forcible Entry: for in that Case if any enter peaceably and put his adversary out forcibly, it is no offence; but if he enter forcibly, he shall be punished by that Statute.  
Besides this, the unspeakable goodness of the King's Highness towards me, who hath been so many ways my singular good Lord and gracious Sovereign; He, 
The improbability of Mr. Rich's deposition.  I say, who hath so dearly loved and trusted me, even from my first coming into his Royal service, vouchsafing to grace me with the honour of being one of his privy Council, and hath most liberally advanced to offices of great credit and worship: finally with the chief dignity of his Majesty's High Chancellor, the like whereof he never did to any temporal man before, which next his Royal Person is the highest Office in this noble Rea●m, so far above my merits and qualities honouring and exalting me of his incomparable benignity by the space of these twenty years and more, showing his continual favours towards me; and now at last it hath pleased his Highness at mine own humble suit to give me licence with his Majesty's favour to bestow the residue of my life for the better provision of my soul in the service of God, to discharge and disburden me of that weighty dignity, before which he had still heaped honours more and more upon me; all this his Highness' goodness so liberally extended to me, were in my mind matter sufficient to convince this slanderous accusation so wrongfully by this man surmised and urged against me, which I commit to your Lordship's honourable considerations whether this Oath be likely to be true or no.  

Mr. Rich his witnesses do fail him.  Mr. Rich seeing himself so evidently disproved, and his credit so foully defaced, caused Sir Rich. Southwel and Mr. Palmer, who in the time of their communication were in the same Chamber with them, to be there sworn what words had passed betwixt them: whereupon Mr. Palmer upon his deposition said, that he was so busy in the trussing up of Sir Thomas his Books into a sack that he took no heed to their talk. Sir Rich. Southwel said likewise, that because he was appointed only to look to the conveying of the Books, he gave no ear unto them. And after this Sir Thomas alleged many other reasons in his own defence to the discredit of Mr. Rioh his foresaid evidence, and for proof of the clearness of his own conscience.  
But for all that ever he could do or say the Jury found him guilty. 
The Jury verdict, guilty.  Wherefore the Lord Chancellor as chief judge in that matter began presently to proceed to judgement; 
Excepted against by Sir Tho.  which Sir Thomas hearing said unto him: My Lord when I was towards the Law, the manner in such Cases was to ask the prisoner before Sentence, whether he could give any reason why judgement should not proceed against him: Upon which words the Lord Chancellor staying his Sentence, wherein he had already partly proceeded, asked Sir Thomas what he was able to say to the contrary, who presently made answer as followeth.  
Forasmuch as, my Lords, this Indictment is grounded upon an Act of Parliament directly repugnant to the Laws of God and his holy Church, 
The Act of Parliament against Gods Law.  the Supreme Government of which or of any part thereof no Temporal person may by any Law presume to take upon him, 
No Layman may be head of the Church.  as rightfully belonging to the See of Rome, it is therefore in Law among the Catholic Christian's insufficient to charge any Christian man to obey. He also further declared for proof of his assertion, that like as this Realm alone being but one member and a small part of the Church, might not make a particular Law disagreeing with the general Law of the universal Catholic Church, no more than the City of London being but one poor member in respect of the whole Realm, might make a law against an Act of Parliament to bind the whole Realm So also he further showed that this law was contrary to the laws and statutes of the land yet unrepealed, 
Against the Laws of the Kingdom.  as they might evidently perceive in Magna Charta, 
Against the Kings own Oath  where it is said, Quod Ecclesia Anglicana libera sit, & habeat libertates suas illaesas: And also contrary to that sacred Oath which the Ki●● Highness himself and every other Christian Prince always with a great solemnity received at their Coronations. 
Against the peculiar Obligation of England to Rome.  Alleging moreover that no more might this Kingdom refuse obedience to the See of Rome, then might the child to his natural father.  
To these words the Lord Chancellor replied, 
The Lord Chancellor's reply  that seeing all the Bishops, Universities, and best learned men of this Realm had agreed to this Act, it was much marvelled that he alone should so stiffly stick thereat, and so vehemently argue there against it. To which words Sir Thomas answered. That if the number of Bishops and Universities were so material as his Lordship seemeth to make it, then do I, my Lord, see little cause why that thing in my conscience should make any change; for I do not doubt but of the learned and virtuous men that are yet alive, (I speak not only of this Realm, but of all Christendom about) there a●e ten to one that are of my mind in this matter. But if I should speak of those learned Doctors and virtuous Fathers that are already dead, of whom many are Saints in Heaven. I am sure, that there are far more, who all the while they lived thought in this Case as I think now: And therefore, my Lord, I think myself not bound to conform my conscience to the Council of one Realm against the general consent of all Christendom.  

The condemnation of Sir Th. More.  Now when Sir Thomas had taken as many exceptions as he thought fit, for the avoiding of this Indictment, the Lord Chancellor having bethought himself, being unwilling now to have the whole burden of his condemnation to lie upon himself, asked openly there the advice of the Lord Chief Justice of England Sir John Fitz James, whether this Indictment were sufficient or no, who answered thus: My Lords all, by S. Gillian (that was ever his Oath) I must needs confess, that if the Act of Parliament be not unlawful then in my Conscience the indictment is not insufficient: Whereupon the Lord Chancellor said to the rest of the Lords, Lo my Lords, lo, You hear what my Lord Chief Justice saith: and so immediately he pronounced this Sentence.  

The Sentence.  THat he should be brought back to the Tower of London by the help of Will. Bingston Sheriff, and from thence drawn on a hurdle through the City of London to Tyburn, there to be hanged till he be half dead, after that cut down yet alive, his privy parts cut off, his belly ripped, his bowels burnt, and his four quarters set up over four Gates of the City, his head upon London bridge.  

Mitigated by the King.  This Sentence was by the Kings pardon changed afterwards into only beheading, because he had born the highest Office in the Kingdom: Of which mercy of the Kings, word being brought to Sir Thomas, he answered merrily, God forbid, the King should use any more such to any of my friends, and God bless all my posterity from such pardons.  

Sir, More's charity to his Judges.  After his Sentence pronounced, the Judges courteously offered him, that if he had any thing else to allege in his defence, they would grant him favourable audience: who answered, I have nothing to say, my Lords, butthat, Like as the Blessed Apostle St. Paul, as we read of in the Acts of the Apostles, was present and consented to the death of S. Stephen, and kept their clothes that stoned him to death, & yet be they now both twain holy Saints in Heaven, and shall continue there friends for ever: So I verily trust & shall therefore right heartily pray, that though your Lordships have been now judges on Earth to my condemnation, we may yet hereafter all meet together in Heaven merrily to our everlasting salvation. And so I pray God preserve you all, and especially my Sovereign Lord the King, and send him faithful Counsellors.   

CHAP. XV.  

1 The manner how Sir THOMAS MORE was led back to the Tower.  
2 His daughter Margaret's great expression of love to him now condemned.  
3 How devoutly and resolutely Sir T. expected his execution.  
4 Notice of the time of his death sent him by the King.  
5 The manner and form of his death.  
6 The King's sadness there 'pon.  
7 Physiognomy of Sir THOMAS MORE.   
NOW after his condemnation he was conducted from the Bar to the Tower again (an Axe being carried before with the edge towards him) and was led by Sir William Kingston who was then Constable of the Tower and his very dear friend, 
The manner of Sir Th. his return to the Tower  who when he had brought him from Westminster to the old Swan on his way to the Tower, 
Great constancy, courtesy, and chari●y.  he there with a sad heart, the tears running down his cheeks took his leave of him: Sir Thomas M. seeing him so sorrowful, with a cheerful countenance, began to comfort him saying, Good Mr. Kingston trouble not yourself, but be of good cheer, for I will pray for you and my good Lady your Wife, that we may meet in Heaven together, where we shall be merry for ever and ever. A little after this, Sir William talking with Mr. Rooper thereof, said, In good faith Mr. Rooper I was ashamed of myself, that at parting with your Father, I found my heart so weak and his so stout, that he was fain to comfort me, who should rather at that time have comforted him. But a conscience clear and at ease, is a comfort which no earthly power can either give or take away; the which, by his demeanour and expressions, it doth plainly appear he had.  

A great experiment of love in the only son of Sir Th. More.  Now, that I may not omit, what before I should have spoken of, I will here mention a great experiment of love in the only Son of Sir Thomas More, who upon his father's landing at the old Swan like a most dutiful child did cast himself down at his feet, humbly craving his blessing, not without tears whom he therefore blessed and kissed most lovingly.  
When Sir Thomas More, was now come to the Tower wharf, his best beloved daughter Margaret, wife to Mr. Rooper, being very desirous to see her father, 
The great passion of his daughter Margaret.  whom she thought she should never see in this world more, diligently attended his coming at the Tower-wharf, where she was certain he must pass by, whom as soon as she had espied (after she had on her knees received his fatherly blessing) she ran hastily unto him, and (without consideration or care of herself, passing through the midst of the throng and guard, who with Bills and Halberds compassed him about) there openly in the sight of them all, embraced him, took him about the neck and kissed him, not able to express any words but these: My Father, O my Father! He liking well this most natural and dear affection of hers towards him gave her his blessing, and told her, That whatsoever he should suffer, though he were innocent, yet it was not without the will of God, and that she knew well enough all the secrets of his heart, counselling her to conform her will to God's blessed pleasure, and bade her be patient for her loss. From whom after she was departed, she not satisfied with the former Farewell, like one who had forgotten herself ravished with the entire love of so worthy a father, having neither respect to herself nor the press of people about him, suddenly ran to him, took him about the neck and many times together most lovingly kissed him; whereat he spoke not one word, but carrying still his gravity, tears also fell from his eyes, nay they were but sew in all the throng, who at the sight of this could refrain from weeping, no not the guard themselves, yet at last with a most sorrowful heart she was forced to depart from him.  

A consideration of this mutual passion of father & daughter.  O what singular act of affection was this, for a woman of nature bashful, by education modest, to express such excessive grief, as that love should make her shake off all fear and shame! which sad fight piercing the hearts of the beholders, how do you think it moved the fathers! surely his affection and forcible love had now daunted his courage, if that a divine spirit of constancy had not inspired him to behold this most generous woman his most worthy daughter, endued with all good gifts of Nature all sparks of Piety, which are wont to be most acceptable to a loving father: O strange: to press unto him at such a time and place where no man could have access, hanging about his neck ere he was aware of her, holding so fast on him, as she could scarce be plucked off, uttering no other words but, O my Father! O my Father! surely this could not but be a sword to his heart: and then at last being drawn away by force, to run upon him again, without any regard either of the weapons wherewith he was encompassed, or of the modesty becoming her own Sex. What comfort did he want? what courage did he then stand in need of? and yet he resisted all this most valiantly, remitting nothing of his steady gravity, speaking only what is before recited, and at last of all desiring her to pray for her father's soul.  

How devoutly and cheerfully he attended his execution.  Sir Tho. M. remained in the Tower more than a seven-night after his judgement, arming himself with prayer and meditation against the day of his execution walking about he chamber with a sheet about him like a corpse ready to be buried.  

His pleasant comceit upon a Courtier.  In which time came to him one of the Court, whose whole disourse was nothing else but urging Sir Thomas to change his mind, who at last being wearied with his importunity, answered him that he had changed it; whereupon presently he went and told the King: and being by him commanded to know wherein h●s mind was changed, Sir Thomas rebuked him for his lightness, in that he would tell the King every word that he spoke in jest, meaning, that whereas he had intended to be shaved that he might appear to the people as before he was wont, now he was fully resolved that his beard should take such part as his head did: which made the Courtier blank, and the King very angry.  

His last letter to his daughter Margaret.  Now last of all, the day before he was to suffer, being the fifth of July, he wrote a most loving letter with a coal to his daughter Margaret, sending his Blessing to all his children, in which he writeth very affectionately, expressing also the great desire he had to suffer on the morrow after, in these words: I cumber you good Margaret much, but I would be sorry if it should be any longer then to morrow, for to morrow is S. Thomas Even, and the Uras of S Peter, and therefore to morrow long I to go to God, it were a day very meet and convenient for me. I never liked your manners better than when you kissed me last. For I like when daughterly love and dear charity hath no leisure to look unto worldly courtesy. Farewell, d●ar daughter, pray for me, and I will pray for you and all your friends, that we may meet together in Heaven. Commend me when you can to my Son John; 
His blessing to his heir.  his towardly carriage towards me pleased me very much. God-blesse him and his good wife and their Children. With this Letter he sent also his shirt of hair, 
His hair-shirt and Discipline  and his whip, as one that was unwilling the world should know that he used such Austerity. For in his life time he by his mirth had hidden from the eyes of others his severity to himself.  

Notice given him from the King of of the day of his death.  So upon the next day being Tuesday St. Thomas even, and the Vtas of his special Patron St. Peter (for whose Supremacy he suffered) in the year of our Lord God one thousand five hundred thirty and seven (according to his desire expressed in his Letter the day before) early in the morning came to him Sir Thomas Pope his singular friend, 
Most welcome unto him.  with a message from the King and his Council, that he should before nine of the clock the same morning suffer death, and that therefore he should presently prepare himself for it. Mr. Pope, said he, I most heartily thank you for your good tidings, I have been much bound to the King's Highness for the benefits of his Honours that he hath most bountifully bestowed upon me, yet am I more bound to his Grace (I assure you) for putting me here, where I have had convenient time and space to have remembrance of my end. And, so help me God, most of all I am bound unto him that it hath pleased his Majesty so shortly to rid me out of the miseries of this wretched world. 
He must use but few words at his execution. " The King's pleasure farther is, said Sir Thomas Pope, That you use not many words at your execution: Mr. Pope, (said he) You do well to give me warning of the King's pleasure herein, for otherwise I had purposed at that time somewhat to have spoken, but no matter wherewith his Grace or any other should have cause to be offended, howheit whatsoever I intended, I am ready obediently to conform myself to his Highness' Command: and I beseech you good Mr. Pope be a means to his Majesty, 
His wife and children permitted to be at his burial.  that my daughter Margaret may be at my burial. The King is contented already, said he, that your wife, Children, and all other should have liberty to be present at it. O how much beholding then am I (said Sir Thomas) to his Grace, that unto my poor burial voucheth to have so gracious consideration.  
Then Sir Thomas Pope taking his leave of him, 
His comfortable courage.  could not refrain from weeping, which Sir Thomas perceiving comforted him in these words: Quiet yourself good Mr. Pope, and be not discomforted, for I trust we shall once see each other full merrily, where we shall be sure to live and love together in joyful bliss eternally. And further to put him out of his melancholy, Sir Thomas took his Urinal in his hand, and casting his water said merrily: I see no danger but that this man might live longer, if it had pleased the King.  

He puts on his best apparel that day.  After which words, they parted, and when he was gone, Sir Thomas (as one that had been invited to a banquet) changed himself into his best apparel. The Lieutenant of the Tower seeing him prepare himself to his death, advised him for his own benefit to put them off again, saying, he who was to have them was but a Javel. What Mr. Lieutenant, said Sir Thomas, shall I account him a Javel, who will do me this day so singular a benefit? Nay I assure you were it cloth of God, 
His liberality to his executioner.  I would think it well bestowed on him. But the Lieutenant so pressed him, that at last for his friendship sake being loath to deny him so small a matter, he altered his apparel, and put on a Gown of Frieze, but yet of that little money that was left him, he sent an Angel in gold to his Executioner, in token that he maliced him nothing, but rather loved him exceedingly for it.  
And so was he brought about nine of the clock out of the Tower, 
The manner of his death.  and from thence led to the place of execution, where going up the scaffold, which seemed to him so weak that was ready to fall, he said merrily to the Lieutenant, I pray you Mr. Lieutenant see me safe up, 
His words at his death.  and for my coming down let me shift for myself. Then desired he all the people to pray for him, and to bear witness with him that he should then suffer death, in, and for the faith of the holy Catholic Church, a faithful servant both of God and the King. Which done, 
His prayers.  he kneeled down, and after his prayers ended, he turned to the Executioner, and with a cheerful countenance, 
Words to the Executioner.  said, Pluck up thy spirits, man, and be not afraid to do thine office: my neck is very short, take heed therefore thou strike not awry for saving thine honesty: 
He covereth his eyes himself.  when the executioner would have covered his eyes, he said, I will cover them myself, and presently he did so with a cloth he had brought with him for that purpose: then saying his head upon the Block, he bade the Executioner stay until he had removed aside his beard, saying, That that had never committed any treason. So with great alacrity and spiritual joy he received the fatal blow of the Axe, which at once severed his head from his body: Thus passed Sir Thomas More out of this world on the very same day on which himself had most desired. 
His death   

The K. sadness at the news of his execution.  When news of his death was brought to the King, who was at that time playing at Tables, Queen Anne looking on, he cast his eyes upon her, and said, Thou art the cause of this man's death: and presently leaving his play, he betook himself to his chamber, an there fell into a melancholy fit. But whether this were from his heart, or to seem less cruel than he was indeed, it is hard to conjecture; for on the one side, the remembrance of his faithful service so many years employed for the good of the whole Kingdom, could not but make the King's heart somewhat to relent; and on the other side, his unmerciful dealing with his son and heir, his small allowance to his wife, his cruelty against all his children, showed that he had an implacable hatred against him for the cause aforesaid. His daughter Margaret was the most gently dealt with, 
The imprisonment of his daughter Margaret.  and yet very sore threatened both because she kept her father's head for a relic, (which being to be thrown off London-Bridge into the Thames she had procured) and that she intended to publish her father's works, yet for all that after a short imprisonment she was at last sent home to her husband.  
Sir Thomas More was of a mean stature, well proportioned, his complexion tending to phlegmatic, 
The favour and physiognomy of Sir Thomas More.  his colour white and pale, his hair neither black nor yellow, but between both, his eyes grey, his countenance amiable and cheerful, his voice neither big nor shrill, but speaking plainly and distinctly; it was not very tuneable, though he delighted much in music, his body reasonable healthful, only that towards his latter end by using much writing, he complained much of his breast. In his youth he drank much water wine he only tasted of when he pledged others, he loved salt meats, especially powdered beef, he was a great lover of milk, cheese, eggs, and fruit, and usually he did eat of brown bread, 
The judgement of Charles the fifth Emperor and King of Spain concerning Sir Th. More's death.  which he rather used to punish his taste, than any love he had unto it.  
Now when intelligence of Sir More's death was brought to the Emperor Charles the fifth, he sent for Sir Thomas Eliot Ambassador there resident, and said unto him, My Lord Ambassador; we understand that the King your Master hath put his faithful Servant and grave Wise Counsellor Sir Thomas More to death: but Sir Thomias Eliot seeming to excuse the matter by some doubt of the report, the King told him, It was too true, and this will we say, (said the Emperor) that if we had been Master of such a Servant, (of whose doings ourselves have had these many years no small experience) we would rather have lost the best and strongest City of our Dominions, then have lost so worthy a Counsellor.  

Circumstances worthy some consideration in his death.  To conclude, if with more care we look into the story of this worthy man's, life, it will not appear to us that his death could any way redound to the honour of the King: for first he was put to death by a statute wherein he had never offended, either by word or deed; and that too, which concerned not temporal policy but religion only: which (as being fearful to offend his conscience) though he refused to approve of himself, yet did he never reprove it, or any other m●n for taking it. Secondly, that he would have no respect unto his eminent qualities, who was a man of known humanity, of mild behaviour, affability, bounty, eloquence wisdom, innocency of life, wit, learning, exceedingly beloved and admired of all men: all which might be motives sufficient to pardon a guilty offender. Thirdly, that he would not consider him that had done him so much good service, and the whole Kingdom such good offices, his faithful Counsellor for twenty years together; his wise Ambassador, his just Lord Chancellor, and indeed the very flower of the Kingdom, who at last drawing towards old age, obtained an honourable dismission from his Office, and lived privately at home with his Wife, children, and nephews, never committing the least offence against any, burdensome to no man, but of such courtesy to all, and of such excellency of nature, that he would not suffer any one to part from him, (if any thing qualified) without some gift; none was so great a stranger to him whom he would not seek to do some favour for. To be short, his bounty had so engraven him in every one's hearts that at his death there was a general lamentation for his loss; Nay Erasmus saith, that he saw tears come from those men who never had seen Sir Thomas More, nor received any benefit from him; and he professes, that while he was writing of him, the tears gushed from him whether he would or no. Now Reader I will keep thy eye no longer upon this doleful Subject, which as it made the Spectators weep, so it cannot but fetch a Tear or two from thee, if thou art any friend to an innocent worth, yet I would not send thee away sad neither: wherefore I have (after this Tragical story) prepared an entertainment in the following Chapter, which looks like a Comedy, and may serve as Wine and Biscuit at a Funeral, to allay thy sadness.   

A view of Sir MORE's Wit and Wisdom.  
SIR Thomas More, (whose only merry jests and witty sayings, 
A witty reprehension.  were they all together, were sufficient to fill a Volume) when he lived in the City of London, being one of the Justices of peace, he used to go to the Sessions at Newgate; where it fell out, that one of the ancientest Justices of the Bench was wont to chide the poor men, (whose purses had been cut) for not being more careful, telling them that their negligence was the cause that so many Cutpurses were brought thither: which, when Sir Thomas More observed him so often to repeat, at one time especially, the night after he sent for one of the chief Cutpurses that was in prison, and promised him to save him harmless, and stand his friend too, if he would cut the foresaid Justice's purse, the next day as he sat on the Bench, and then presently make a sign of it to him. The fellow very gladly promiseth him to do it: The next day therefore when they sat again, that thief was called among the first, who being accused of his fact, said, That he did not doubt but he could sufficiently excuse himself, if he were permitted to speak to some of the Bench in private, he was therefore bid to choose one, whom he would, and presently he chose that grave old man, who then had his Pouch at his girdle, (as they wore them in those days) and whilst he whispered him in the ear, he cunningly cuts his purse, and then solemnly taking his leave, returns to his place: Sir Thomas knowing by a private sign that the business was dispatched, presently took occasion to move the Bench to distribute some alms upon a poor needy fellow that was there, and for good example, began himself to do it, when the old man came to open his purse, he sees it cut away, and, much wondering, said, he was confident he brought it with him when he came thither that morning: Sir Thomas replied pleasantly, What? will you charge any of us with felony? but his choler rising, and he being ashamed of the thing, Sir Thomas calls the Cutpurse and bids him give him his purse again, and withal advised the good old Justice, hereafter not to be so bitter a censurer of innocent men's negligence, when as himself could not secure his purse in that open assembly.  

An unmannerly reprehension, mannerlyreturned on the reprehender.  Another time, when he was Lord Chancellor, one of the house of the Manors, whom the King had then lately preferred to a great Honour, who before that had been a great friend of Sir Thomas Mores, but, perceiving now that the world began somewhat to frown upon him, because he was not so forward as other men to persuade the King to the Divorce, and being desirous to pick some quarrel against him, he said unto him, My Lord, Honours' mutant Mores. Sir Thomas readily replied, It is so indeed, my Lord, but Moors, signifieth in english Manners, not More: he was with this so put out of countenance that he had nothing more to say.  

A bold debtor handsomely told his own.  So also, he wittily twitted another to whom he had lent money, of whom when afterwards he demanded his due, he bade him remember he must die, and God knew how soon; and, that then he would have little use of money, adding the sentence in Latin, the better to please Sir Thomas, Momento Morieris: to which Sir Thomas presently replied: What say you Sir, Me thinks you put yourself in mind of your duty herein, saying Memento Mori aeris, remember Moor's money:  

A pleasant arbitrement between his Lady and a beggar.  It happened on a time that a beggars little Dog which she had lost was sent to the Lady More for a Present, and she had kept it about a week very carefully, but at last, the beggar having notice where her dog was; presently came and complained to Sir Thomas as he was sitting in his Hall, that his Lady kept her dog from her. Presently my Lady was sent for, and the dog brought with her, which Sir Thomas taking in his arms, he caused his Wife to stand at the upper end of his Hall, and the beggar at the lower end, and then, (saying that he sat there to do every one justice) he bade each of them call the dog; which when they did, the dog ran presently to the beggar, forsaking his Lady; When he saw this, he bade his Wife be contented, for it was none of hers, yet, she repining at his sentence, agreed with the beggar, and gave her a piece of Gold; so all parties were satisfied every one smiling at this strange discovery of truth.  

A witty censure of a witless writing.  Another time a certain friend of his taking great pains about a Book which he intended to publish, (being well conceited of his own wit, which no body else thought worth commendation) and because he would Sir Thomas should oversee it, ere it were printed, he brought it to him, who perusing it, and finding no thing therein worthy the Press, said with a grave countenance, If it were inverse, it were more worth: upon which words, he went and turned it into verse, and then brought it to Sir Thomas, who looking thereon, said soberly: Yea marry, now it is somewhat; for now it is Rhyme, before it was neither Rhyme, nor Reason.  

A merry mistake.  And indeed whatsoever jest he brought forth, he never laughed at any himself, but spoke them so seriously, that few could discern by his look, whether he were in earnest or in jest; as, once talking with another in dispute of his Dialogues by some occasion they happened to speak of a dog's turd; at that very instant one of his men came to tell him, that dinner was ready, to whom he said, Look that there be better meat provided for us then that: who presently went and told his Lady, that his Lord would have better meat provided for his dinner; which caused a great disturbance in the house till at last the mistake being known they all fell a laughing.   

Some few of Sir THO. MORE'S Apophthegms, collected out of Dr. Stapleton.  
A Sinner saith he cannot taste spiritual delights; 
Sinners distasted.  because all carnal are first to be abandoned.  
By an excellent similitude, he teacheth us why few do fear death, thus: 
Why few. fear death  Even as they which look upon things afar off, see them confusedly, not knowing whether they be men or trees; even so he that promiseth unto himself long life, looketh upon death, as a thing afar off, not judging what it is, 
No man sure of long life.  how terrible, what griefs and dangers it brings with it; & that none ought to promise himself long life, he proveth thus: even as two men that are brought out of Prison to the gallows, one by a long way about he other by a direct short path yet neither knowing which is which until they come to the gallows, neither of these two can promise himself longer life, by reason of the uncertainty of the way: even so a young man cannot promise himself longer life than an old man.  

World's vanity.  Against the vanity of worldly honour, he speaketh thus: Even as that Criminal person, who is led to execution shortly, should be accounted vain, if he should engrave his Coat of Arms upon the prison Gate: even so are they vain, who endeavour to leave with great industry, monuments of their dignity in the prison of this world.  

Worldly losses hurt not.  By a subtle Dilemma, he teacheth us why we are not to think that we can be hurt, by the iosse of our superfluous goods, in this manner: He that suffereth any loss of his goods, he would either have bestowed them with praise and liberality; and so God will accept his will in stead of the deed itself: or else he would have wasted them wickedly; and then he hath cause to rejoice, that the matter of sinning is taken away. 
The folly of old misers.   
To express lilvely the folly of an old covetous man, he writeth thus: A thief that is to die to morrow, stealeth to day, & being asked why he did so, he answered, that it was great pleasure to him to be master of that money but one night; So an old miser, never ceaseth to increase his heap of coin though he be never so aged.  
He said also, 
How fond it is to love this world.  that those which give themselves to pleasure and idleness in the time of their pilgrimage, are like to him who travelling to his own house, where there is abundance of all things, would yet be an ostler in an Inn by the way for to get an Innkeepers favour, and to end his life there in a stable.  

Affliction more profitable than pleasure.  Pleasure (saith he) doth not only withdraw wicked men from prayer, but also affliction sometimes; yet this is the difference, that affliction doth sometime wrest some short prayer from the wickedest men alive, but pleasure calleth away even one that is indifferent good, from all prayer.  

Against deferring of amendment.  Against impenitent persons, and such as defer the amending of their lives till the latter end of their days, he saith thus: A lewd fellow that had spent all his lise in wickedness, was wont to brag, that he could be saved, if he spoke but three words at the hour of his death: Riding over a bridge that was broken, his horse stumbling, and not being able to keep himself from falling into the water, when he saw himself past recovery, casting away the bridle he said, The Devil take all, and so with his three words he perished in the river.  

Pusillanimity a dangerous temptation.  Even as he that passeth over a narrow bridge by reason of his fear often falleth, especially if others say unto him, you fall, which otherwise he would safely pass over: even so he that is fearful by nature and full of pusillanimity, often falleth into desperation, the Devil cryiag unto him, thou art damned, thou art damned, which he would never hearken to, nor be in any danger of, if he should take unto him a good heart, and by wholesome counsel nothing fear the Devil's outcry.  
The prosperity of this world is like the shortest winters day, 
Danger of prosperity.  and we are lifted up in it as an arrow shot up on high, where a hot breath doth delight us: but from thence we fall suddenly to the earth and there we stick fast, either bemired with the dirt of infamy, or starving with cold, being plucked out of our feathers.  

Of riches and honours.  It is a hard thing to touch pitch and not be defiled therewith: a dry stick to be put into the fire and not to burn, to nourish a Snake in our bosom, and not be stung with it: so a most hard thing it is, to be rich and honoured in this world, and not to be struck with the dart of pride and vain glory.  
Let there be two beggars who a long time begged together: one of whom some rich man hath entertained in his house, 
All riches of this world none of our own.  put him in silk, given him money in his purse: but with this condition, as he tells him, within a short space he will thrust him out of his door● and take all that away from him again: if he in the mean while being thus gallant should chance to meet with his fellow beggar would he be so foolish as for al● this not to acknowledge him fo● his companion? or would he fo● these few day's happiness hol● himself better than he? Applying this to every man's case, who co●meth naked into this world, and 〈◊〉 to return naked again.  

Covetousness.  He compareth Covetousness t● a fire, which, by how much th● more wood there is laid on it t●● burn, so much apt it is to bur● more still.  

Bad Merchants.  That there are many in this li●● that buy hell with more toil, th● heaven might be won with 〈◊〉 half.  
If he be called stout, that hath fortitude, he hot, who hath heat, 
Riches are not goods  wise that hath Wisdom, yet he who hath riches cannot be said presently to be good, therefore riches cannot be numbered among good things. Twenty, yea a hundred bare heads standing by a Noble man, do not defend his head from cold so much as his own hat doth alone, which yet he is enforced to put off in the presence of his Prince.  

The worst affection.  That is the worst affection of the mind which doth delight us in that thing which cannot be gotten but by offending God. He that doth get or keep worldly wealth by offending God, let him fully persuade himself, that those things will never do him good, either God will quickly take away illgotten goods, or will suffer them to be kept for a greater mischief.  

Almsdeeds.  Even as he that knoweth certainly he is to be banished into a strange Country, never to return into his own again, and will not that his goods be transported thither being loath to want them, for that little while rather than ever to enjoy them after, may well be thought a mad man: so are they out of their wits, who enticed with vain affections to keep their goods always about them, and neglective to give alms for sear of wanting, cannot endure to have their goods s●nt before them to Heaven, when as they know most assuredly, that they shall enjoy them always there, with all plenty and with a double reward.  

The world a prison.  To ease his thoughts when he was in prison, he imagined that all the world was but a prison, out of which every day some one or other was called to execution.  
He said it was an easy matter in some cases for a man to lose his head, 
To suffer for God.  and yet to have no harmat all.  

Prayer.  He prayed thus: O Lord God, grant that I endeavour to get those things, for which I am to pray unto Thee.  

Detraction.  When he heard any at his Table speaking detraction, he would interrupt them thus; Let any man think as he pleaseth, I like this room very well for it is well contrived and fairly built.  

Ingratitude.  Of an ungrateful person he would say, that they wrote good turns done unto them in the dust; but even the least injuries in marble.  

Faith the mistresses of reason.  He compared reason to a handmaid, which if she be well taught will obey, and Faith to the Mistress, which is to keep her in awe Captivans intellectum in obsequium Fidei.  

Better prevent then redress.  He saith that he were a mad man that would drink poison to take a preservative after it; but he's a wise man, that spilling the poison leaveth the Antidote for him, that hath need thereof.  

Desire of heaven.  He was wont to say that he may well be admitted to Heaven who was very desirous to see God; but on he contrary side, he that doth not desire earnestly, shall never be admitted thither.  

Bad life no miracle.  That people should fall into bad life and lust is, as great a miracle, he saith, as stones to fall downwards.  

School Divinity.  Whereas he saith, you inveigh against School Divinity, because truth is there called in doubt not without danger, we inveigh against you, because false matters are held by you undoubtedly for truth itself.   


An Apology for Sir Tho. M pleasantness of wit.  NOw because there is an English Chronologer that terms him a scoffing man, because his writings and doings were full of witty jests, calling him a wise foolish man; or a foolish wise man: I think it very fit to set down in this place, the reason (out of his own writings) why he hath used so many pleasant passages in his books, it is this, Even as some sick men (saith he) will take no medecines unless some pleasant thing be put among their potions, although perhaps it be somewhat hurtful, yet the Physician suffereth them to have it: So, because many will not willingly hearken to serious and grave documents, except they be mingled with some fable or jest, therefore reason willeth us to do the like. And in his great volume, page 1048 he saith, that jests are as it were sauce whereby we are recreated, that we may eat with more appetite: but as that were an absurd Banquet in which there were few dishes of meat, and much variety of sauces, and that an unpleasant one, where there were no sauce at all, even so that life were spent idly, where nothing were but mirth and jollity, and again, that tedious and uncomfortable wherein no pleasure or mirth were to be expected. Which mirth as it may well become all men, so most especially did it become such a one as Sir Thomas M. being a married man, nay a Courtier and companion to his Prince, of whom I suppose that may worthily be spoken which Titus Livius recounteth of Cato, thus. In this man there was such excellency of wit and wisdom, that he seemeth to have been able to make his fortune, in what place soever he had been born: he wanted no 〈…〉 for the managing of private or public businesses, he was experienced both in Country and City affairs: some are raised to honour either because they are excellent Lawyers, singularly eloquent, or of admirable virtues, but the towardliness of this man's understanding, framed him so to all employments, that you would suppose him for to be born for one alone: In the practice of virtues you would judge him rather a Monk then a Courtier, in learning a most famous writer; if you would ask his counsel in the Law, he was most ready to advise you the best; if he were to make an Oration, he would show wonderful eloquence: he was admirable in all kind of Learning, Latin, Greek, Profane, Divine: if there were an Embassy to be undertaken none more expert to finish it: in giving solid and sound counsel in doubtful Cases, none more prudent; to tell the truth without fear, none more free: as far from all flattery, as he was open and pleasant, full of grace in delivering his judgement; and that which Cato had not, he was most happy in: For Livy saith, that he had a sour behaviour, and a tongue immoderately free and full of taunting, but Sir Thomas was mild, and of an humble heart, neither sad nor turbulent, and besides of a pleasant conversation, never stern, but (out of zeal) for his Religion, a great contemner either of unlawful pleasures, or of inordinate riches an● glory. And as Cato had much enmity with divers Senators, so many of them on the other side did exercise his patience, that one can hardly discern whether the nobility did press him more, or he the nobility, but on the contrary, Sir Thomas More never had any private or public grudge with any man nay surely no man can suppose any to have been his enemy, being born wholly to friendship and affability, and as he was nothing inferior to Cato for gravity, integrity and innocency (being as exact a hater of all vice, and as stern to all wicked men as he) so did he f●rre excel him in meekness, sweetness of behaviour and pleasantness of wit: nay I fear I do him too much injury to compare him with any the best of moral Philosophers, who was endued with such supernatural perfections, and (no doubt) notwithstanding his judgement, high in the favour of God.   
FINIS.