Henry Chettle - Sir Thomas More ACT 5. SCENE 1. lyrics

The Tower Gate. Enter the Warders of the Tower, with halbards. First Warder. Ho, make a guard there! Second Warder. Master Lieutenant gives a straight command, The people be avoided from the bridge. Third Warder. From whence is he committed, who can tell? First Warder. From Durham House, I hear. Second Warder. The guard were waiting there are hour ago. Third Warder. If he stay long, he'll not get near the wharf, There's such a crowd of boats upon the Thames. Second Warder. Well, be it spoken without offence to any, A wiser or more virtuous gentleman Was never bred in England. Third Warder. I think, the poor will bury him in tears: I never heard a man, since I was born, So generally bewailed of every one. Enter a Poor Woman. What means this woman?—Whether doost thou press? First Warder. This woman will be trod to d**h anon. Second Warder. What makest thou here? Woman. To speak with that good man, Sir Thomas More. Second Warder. To speak with him! he's not Lord Chancellor. Woman. The more's the pity, sir, if it pleased God. Second Warder. Therefore, if thou hast a petition to deliver, Thou mayst keep it now, for any thing I know. Woman. I am a poor woman, and have had (God knows) A suit this two year in the Chancery; And he hath all the evidence I have Which should I lose, I am utterly undone. Second Warder. Faith, and I fear thoult hardly come by am now; I am sorry for thee, even with all my heart. Enter the Lords with Sir Thomas More, and Attendants, and enter Lieutenant and Gentleman Porter. Woman, stand back, you must avoid this place; The lords must pa** this way into the Tower. More. I thank your lordships for your pains thus far To my strong house. Woman. Now, good Sir Thomas More, for Christ's dear sake, Deliver me my writings back again That do concern my title. More. What, my old client, are thou got hither too? Poor silly wretch, I must confess indeed, I had such writings as concern thee near; But the king has ta'en the matter into his own hand; He has all I had: then, woman, sue to him; I cannot help thee; thou must bear with me. Woman. Ah, gentle heart, my soul for thee is sad! Farewell the best friend that the poor e'er had. Exit Woman. Gentleman Porter. Before you enter through the Towergate, Your upper garment, sir, belongs to me. More. Sir, you shall have it; there it is. He gives him his cap. Gentleman Porter. The upmost on your back, sir; you mistake me. More. Sir, now I understand ye very well: But that you name my back, Sure else my cap had been the uppermost. Shrewsbury. Farewell, kind lord; God send us merry meeting! More. Amen, my lord. Surrey. Farewell, dear friend; I hope your safe return. More. My lord, and my dear fellow in the Muses, Farewell; farewell, most noble poet. Lieutenant. Adieu, most honored lords. Exeunt Lords. More. Fair prison, welcome; yet, methinks, For thy fair building tis too foul a name. Many a guilty soul, and many an innocent, Have breathed their farewell to thy hollow rooms. I oft have entered into thee this way; Yet, I thank God, ne'er with a clear conscience Than at this hour: This is my comfort yet, how hard sore My lodging prove, the cry of the poor suitor, Fatherless orphan, or distressed widow, Shall not disturb me in my quiet sleep. On, then, a God's name, to our close abode! God is as strong here as he is abroad. Exeunt.