Costly Opinion on Divorce
November 05, 2014Sir Thomas More |
William Roper
(1496-1578). The Life of Sir Thomas More.
Vol. 36, pp. 89-99 of
The Harvard Classics
A divorce always
means trouble for some one. So with Sir Thomas More when he refused
to agree with King Henry over the king's separation. More was made to
pay one of the highest prices ever paid for a difference of opinion.
In hoc
signo vinces
FORASMUCH as Sir Thomas
More, Knight sometime Lord Chancellor of England, a man of singular
virtue and of a clear unspotted conscience, (as witnesseth Erasmus),
more pure and white than the whitest snow, and of such an angelical
wit, as England, he saith, never had the like before, nor never shall
again, universally, as well in the laws of our Realm (a study in
effect able to occupy the whole life of a man) as in all other
sciences, right well studied, was in his days accounted a man worthy
famous memory; I William Roper (though most unworthy) his son-in-law
by marriage of his eldest daughter, knowing no one man that of him
and of his doings understood so much as myself for that I was
continually resident in his house by the space of sixteen years and
more, thought it therefore my part to set forth such matters touching
his life as I could at this present call to remembrance. Among which
very many notable things not meet to have been forgotten, through
negligence and long continuance of time, are slipped out of my mind.
Yet to the intent the same shall not all utterly perish, I have at
the desire of divers worshipful friends of mine, though very far from
the grace and worthiness of them, nevertheless as far forth as my
mean wit, memory and learning would serve me, declared so much
thereof as in my poor judgment seemed worthy to be remembered.
This Sir Thomas More after he had been
brought up in the Latin tongue at St. Anthony’s in London, he was,
by his father’s procurement received into the house of the right
reverend, wise and learned prelate Cardinal Morton, where (though he
was young of years, yet) would he at Christmastide suddenly sometimes
step in among the players, and never studying for the matter, make a
part of his own there presently among them, which 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 unto the nobles
that divers times dined with him, “This child here waiting at the
table, whosoever shall live to see it, will prove a marvellous man.”
Whereupon for his learning he placed him at Oxford, where when he was
both in the Greek and Latin tongue sufficiently instructed, he was
then for the study of the law of the Realm put to an Inn of the
Chancery, called New Inn, where for his time, he very well prospered.
And from thence was committed to Lincoln’s Inn, with very small
allowance, continuing there his study until he was made and accounted
a worthy utter barrister. After this, to his great commendation, he
read for a good space a public lecture of St. Augustine de
Civitate Dei in the church of St. Laurence in the Old Jewry,
whereunto there resorted Doctor Grocyn, an excellent cunning man, and
all the chief learned of the city of London. Then was he made Reader
of Furnival’s Inn, so remaining by the space of three years and
more. After which time he gave himself to devotion and prayer in the
Charterhouse of London, religiously living there without vow about
four years, until he resorted to the house of one Mr. Colt, a
gentleman of Essex that had oft invited him thither, having three
daughters whose honest conversation and virtuous education provoked
him there especially to set his affection. And albeit his mind most
served him to the second daughter, for that he thought her the
fairest and best favoured, yet when he considered that it would be
both great grief and some shame also to the eldest to see her younger
sister in marriage preferred before her, he then of a certain pity
framed his fancy towards her, and soon after married her,
nevertheless not discontinuing his study of the law at Lincoln’s
Inn, but applying still 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.
Before which time he had placed
himself and his wife at Bucklesbury in London, where he had by her
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.
Who ere ever he had been reader in
Court was in the latter time of King Henry the Seventh made a Burgess
in the Parliament, wherein there were by the King demanded (as I have
heard it reported) about three-fifteenths for the marriage of his
eldest daughter, that then should be the Scottish Queen. At the last
debating whereof he made such arguments and reasons there against,
that the King’s demands were thereby overthrown. So that one of the
King’s privy chamber, named Mr. Tyler, being present thereat,
brought word to the King out of the Parliament house, that a
beardless boy had disappointed all his purposes. Whereupon the King
conceiving great indignation towards him could not be satisfied until
he had some way revenged it. And forasmuch as he nothing having,
nothing could lose, his grace devised a causeless quarrel against his
Father, keeping him in the Tower until he had paid him an hundred
pounds fine. Shortly hereupon it fortuned that this Sir Thomas More
coming in a suit to Dr. Fox, Bishop of Winchester, one of the King’s
privy council, they called him aside, and pretending great favour
towards him, promised him that if he would be ruled by him, he would
not fail but into the King’s favour again to restore him, meaning,
as it was after conjectured, to cause him thereby to confess his
offence against the King, whereby his Highness might with better
colour have occasion to revenge his displeasure against him. But when
he came from the Bishop, he fell in communication with one Mr.
Witford, his familiar friend, then chaplain to that Bishop and after
a Father of Sion, and showed him what the Bishop had said unto him,
desiring to have his advice therein, who for the passion of God
prayed him in no wise to follow his counsel “for my Lord my Master
(quoth he) to serve the King’s turn will not stick to agree to his
own father’s death.” So Sir Thomas More returned to the Bishop no
more. And had not the King soon after died, he was determined to have
gone over the sea, thinking that being in the King’s indignation he
could not live in England without great danger. After he was made one
of the under-sheriffs of London, by which office and his learning
together as I have heard him say, he gained without grief not so
little as four hundred pounds by the year; since there was at that
time in none of the Prince’s courts of the laws of this realm any
matter of importance in controversy wherein he was not with the one
party of counsel. Of whom, for his learning, wisdom, and knowledge
and experience, men had him in such estimation, 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 Stilliard, whose wise and discreet dealing therein
to his high commendation, coming to the King’s understanding,
provoking his Highness to cause Cardinal Wolsey (then Lord
Chancellor) to procure him to his service. And albeit the Cardinal
according to the King’s request earnestly travailed with him
therefore, among many other his persuasions alleging unto him, how
dear his service must needs be unto his Majesty, which could not of
his honour with less than he should yearly lose thereby seem to
recompense him, yet he, loath to change his estate, made such means
to the King by the Cardinal to the contrary, that his Grace for that
time was well satisfied. Now happened there after this a great ship
of his that then was Pope to arrive 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 counsel
learned in the Laws of this realm, and the matter in his own presence
(being himself a singular civilian) in some public place to be openly
heard and discussed. At which time there could none of our law be
found so meet to be of counsel with this Ambassador as Sir Thomas
More, who could report to the Ambassador in Latin all the reasons and
arguments by the learned counsel on both sides alleged. Upon this the
Councillors on either party 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 effect
of all their opinions, but also in defence on the Pope’s side
argued so learnedly himself, that both was the foresaid forfeiture to
the Pope restored, and himself among all the hearers, for his upright
and commendable demeanour therein, so greatly renowned, that for no
entreaty would the King from henceforth be induced any longer to
forbear his service. At whose first entry thereunto he made him
Master of the Requests, having then no better room void, and within a
month after, knight and one of his Privy Council, and so from time to
time was by the Prince advanced, continuing in his singular favour
and trusty service twenty years and above, a good part whereof used
the King upon holidays, when he had done his own devotions to send
for him into his private room, and there some time in matters of
Astronomy, Geometry, Divinity, and such other Faculties, and some
time in his worldly affairs, to sit and confer with him, and other
whiles would he in the night have him up into the leads, there to
consider with him the diversities, courses, motions, and operations
of the stars and planets. And because he was of a pleasant
disposition, it pleased the King and Queen, after the Council had
supped, at the time of their supper for their pleasure commonly to
call for him, and to be merry with them. When he perceived so much in
his talk to delight, that he could not once in a month get leave to
go home to his wife and children (whose company he most desired) and
to be absent from the Court two days together, but that he should be
thither sent for again, he much misliking this restraint of liberty,
began thereupon somewhat to dissemble his nature, and so by little
and little from his former mirth to disuse himself, that he was of
them from thenceforth no more so ordinarily sent for. Then died one
Mr. Weston, Treasurer of the Exchequer, whose office after his death
the King of his own offer, without any asking, freely gave unto Sir
Thomas More. In the fourteenth year of his Grace’s Reign was there
a Parliament holden, whereof Sir Thomas More was chosen Speaker, who
being very loath to take that Room upon him, made an oration, not now
extant, to the King’s Highness for his discharge thereof. Whereunto
when the King would not consent, he spake unto his Grace in form
following: “Since I perceive (most redoubted sovereign) that it
standeth not with your Highness’ 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 Highness’ Chancellor,
thereunto given your most royal consent, and have of your benignity
determined, far above that I may bear, to enable me, and for this
office to repute me meet, rather than ye should seem to impute unto
your Commons that they had unmeetly chosen, I am therefore, and
always shall be, ready obediently to conform myself to the
accomplishment of your high commandment. In my most humble wise
beseeching your most noble Majesty, that I may, with your Grace’s
favour, before I farther enter thereunto, make mine humble
intercession unto your Highness for two lowly petitions, the one
privately concerning myself, the other the whole assembly of your
Common House. And for myself (Gracious Sovereign) that if it mishap
me in anything hereafter, that is in the behalf of your Commons in
your high presence to be declared, to mistake my message, and for
lack of good utterance by me misrehearsed, to pervert or impair the
prudent instructions, that it may then like your most noble Majesty
of your abundant grace, with the eye of your accustomed pity, to
pardon my simplicity, giving me leave again to repair to the Common
House, and there to confer with them, and to take their substantial
advice, what thing, and in what wise I shall on their behalf utter
and speak before your noble Grace: to the intent their prudent
advices and affairs be not by my simpleness and folly hindered or
impaired. Which thing if it should so hap, as it were well likely to
mishap in me (if your Grace’s benignity relieved not my oversight)
it could 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 lowly
suit and humble petition unto your most noble Grace. Mine 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 are after the accustomed manner
appointed in the Common House to treat and advise of the common
affairs among themselves apart: and albeit (my liege Lord) that,
according to your prudent advice, by your honourable writs everywhere
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 meet thereto, whereby it is not
to be doubted but that there is a very substantial assembly of right
wise and politic persons: yet (most victorious 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 likewise as much folly is uttered with painted polished
speeches, so many boisterous and rude in language see deep indeed,
and give right substantial counsel: and since also in matters of
great importance the mind is often so occupied in the matter, that a
man rather studieth what to say, than how; by what reason whereof the
wisest man and best spoken in a country fortuneth among, while his
mind is fervent on the matter, somewhat to speak in such wise, as he
would afterward wish to have been uttered otherwise, and yet no worse
will had when he spake it, than he hath when he would so gladly
change it: Therefore (most Gracious Sovereign) considering that in
all your high Courts of Parliament is nothing entreated but of
matters of weight and importance concerning your Realm, and your own
Royal estate, it could not fail to let and put to silence from the
giving of their advice and counsel many of your discreet Commons
[except they] were utterly discharged of all doubt and fear how
anything that should happen them to speak, should happen of your
Highness to be taken: and in this point your well-known benignity
putteth every man in right good hope. Yet such is the weight of the
matter, such is the reverend dread that the timorous hearts of your
natural subjects conceive towards your high Majesty (our most
redoubted King and undoubted Sovereign) that they cannot in this
point find themselves satisfied, except your gracious bounty herein
declared put away the scruple of their timorous minds, and animate
and encourage them out of doubt. It may therefore like your most
abundant Grace (our most gracious King) to give to all your Commons
here assembled, your most gracious licence and pardon freely, without
doubt of your dreadful displeasure, every man to discharge his
conscience, and boldly in everything incident among, declare his
advice, and whatsoever happeneth any man to say, it may like your
noble Majesty of your inestimable goodness to take all in good part,
interpreting every man’s words, how uncunningly soever they be
couched, to proceed yet of a good zeal towards the profit of your
Realm and honour of your Royal person, the prosperous estate and
preservation whereof (most excellent Sovereign) is the thing which we
all your most humble loving subjects, according to the most bounden
duty of our natural allegiance, most highly desired and pray for.”
At this Parliament, Cardinal Wolsey found himself much grieved with
the Burgesses thereof, for that nothing was so soon done or spoken
therein, but that it was immediately blown abroad in every alehouse.
It fortuned at that Parliament a very great subsidy to be demanded,
which the Cardinal fearing it would not pass the Common House,
determined for the furtherance thereof, to be there present himself;
before whose coming after long debating there, whether it were better
but with a few of his Lords (as the most opinion of the house was) or
with a whole train royally to receive him there amongst them,
“Masters,” quoth Sir Thomas More, “forasmuch as my Lord
Cardinal lately, you note well, laid to our charge the lightness of
our tongues for things uttered out of this house, it shall not be
amiss in my mind to receive him with all his pomp, with his maces,
his pillars, his pollaxes, his crosses, his hat, and great seal too;
to the intent that if he find the like fault with us hereafter, we
may be the bolder from ourselves to lay the blame upon those that his
Grace bringeth with him.” Whereunto the House wholly agreeing, he
was received accordingly. Where after he had in a solemn oration by
many reasons proved how necessary it was the demands there moved to
be granted, and further said that less would not serve the King’s
purpose; he seeing the company still silent, and thereunto nothing
answering, and contrary to his expectation showing in themselves
towards his requests no towardness of inclination, said unto them:
“Masters, ye have many wise and learned men among you, and seeing I
am from the King’s own person sent hither unto you for the
preservation of yourselves and all the Realm, I think it meet you
give me a reasonable answer.” Whereat every man holding his peace,
then began he to speak to one Mr. Marney, who making him no answer
neither, he severally asked the same question of divers others
accounted the wisest of the company. To whom when none of them all
would give so much as one word, being before agreed, as the custom
was, by their speaker to make answer: “Masters,” quoth the
Cardinal, “unless it be the manner of your house (as of likelihood
it is) in such causes to utter your minds by the mouth of your
speaker, whom ye have chosen for trusty and wise (as indeed he is)
here is without doubt a marvellous obstinate silence;” and
thereupon required the answer of Mr. Speaker, who reverently upon his
knees excusing the silence of the house, abashed at the presence of
so noble a personage, able to amaze the wisest and best learned in a
realm, and after by many reasons proving, that for them to make
answer was it neither expedient, nor agreeable with the ancient
liberty of the House; in conclusion for himself showed, that though
they had all with their voices trusted him, yet except every of them
could put into his own head all their several wits, he alone in so
weighty a matter was unmeet to make his Grace answer, whereupon the
Cardinal displeased with Sir Thomas More, that had not in this
Parliament in all things satisfied his desire, suddenly arose and
departed: and after the Parliament ended, uttered unto him all his
griefs, saying, “Would to God you had been at Rome, Mr. More, when
I made you Speaker.” “Your Grace not offended, so would I too, my
Lord,” quoth he, and to wind such quarrels out of the Cardinal’s
head, he began to talk of that gallery at Hampton Court, wherewith so
wisely brake he off the Cardinal’s displeasant talk, the Cardinal
at that present, as it seemed, wist not what more to say to him, but
for revengement of his displeasure counselled the King to send him
Ambassador into Spain, commending unto his Highness his wisdom,
learning and meetness for that voyage, and the difficulty of the
cause considered, none was there so well able, he said, to serve his
Grace therein. Which when the King had broken to Sir Thomas More, and
that he had declared unto his Grace, how unfit a journey it was for
him, the nature of the country and disposition of his complexion so
disagreeing together, that he should never be likely to do his Grace
acceptable service therein, knowing right well that if his Grace sent
him thither, he should send him to his grave; but showing himself
nevertheless ready according to his duty, albeit with the loss of his
life, to fulfil his Grace’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 for
this purpose will devise upon some other, and employ your service
otherwise.” And such entire favour did the King bear him, that he
made him Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster, upon the death of Sir
Richard Winfield, who had that office before. And for the pleasure he
took in his company, would his Grace suddenly sometimes come home to
his house at Chelsea to be merry with him, whither on a time unlooked
for he came to dinner, and after dinner in a fair garden of his
walked with him by the space of an hour holding his arm about his
neck. As soon as his Grace was gone, I rejoicing, told Sir Thomas
More, how happy he was, whom the King had so familiarly entertained,
as I had never seen him to do to any before, except Cardinal Wolsey,
whom I saw his Grace once walk with arm in arm. “I thank our Lord,
son,” quoth he, “I find his Grace my very good lord indeed, and I
do believe he doth as singularly favour me as any subject within this
Realm. Howbeit (son Roper) I may tell thee, I have no cause to be
proud thereof. For if my head would win him a castle in France (for
then there was wars between us) it should not fail to go.” This Sir
Thomas More, among all other his virtues, was of such meekness, that
if it had fortuned him with any learned man resorting to him from
Oxford, Cambridge, or elsewhere, as there did divers, some for the
desire of his acquaintance, some for the famous report of his
learning and wisdom, and some for suits of the Universities, to have
entered into argument, wherein few were comparable to him, and so far
to have discoursed with them therein, that he might perceive they
could not, without some inconvenience, hold out much further
disputation against him: then, least he should discomfort them, as he
that sought not his own glory, but rather would seem conquered than
to discourage students in their studies, ever showing himself more
desirous to learn than to teach, would he by some witty device
courteously break off into some other matters and give over. Of whom
for his wisdom and learning had the King such an opinion, that at
such time as he attended upon his Highness, taking his progress
either to Oxford or Cambridge, where he was received with every
eloquent orations, his Grace would always assign him (as one that was
most prompt, and ready therein) ex tempore to make
answer thereunto; whose manner was, whensoever he had any occasion,
either here or beyond the sea to be in any University, not only to be
present at the reading and disputations there commonly used, but also
learnedly to dispute among them himself. Who 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. Not long after this the Water Bailiff of
London (sometime his servant) hearing, where he had been at dinner,
certain merchants liberally to rail against his old master, waxed so
discontented therewith, that he hastily came to him, and told him
what he had heard: “and were I, Sir” (quoth he) “in such favour
and authority with my Prince as you are, such men surely should not
be suffered so villainously and falsely to mis-report and slander me.
Wherefore I would wish you to call them before you, and, to their
shame for their lewd malice to punish them.” Who smiling upon him
said, “Mr. Water Bailiff, would you have me punish them by whom I
receive more benefit than by you all that be my friends? Let them a
God’s name speak as lewdly as they list 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, then would it a little trouble
me: howbeit, I trust, by God’s help, there shall none of them all
be able once to touch me. I have more cause, Mr. Water Bailiff (I
assure thee) to pity them, than to be angry with them.” Such
fruitful communication had he oftentimes with his familiar friends.
So on a time walking along the Thames side with me at Chelsea, in
talking of other things, he said to me, “Now would to God, so
Roper, upon condition three things were well established in
Christendom I were put in a sack, and here presently cast into the
Thames.” “What great things be these, Sir,” quoth I, “that
should move you so to wish?” “Wouldest thou know, son Roper, what
they be?” quoth he. “Yea marry, Sir, with a good will if it
please you,” quoth I. “I faith, they be these, son.” quoth he.
“The first is, that whereas the most part of Christian princes be
at mortal wars, they were at universal peace. The second, that where
the Church of Christ is at this present sore afflicted with many
heresies and errors, it were well settled in an uniformity of
religion. The third, that where the King’s matter of his marriage
is now come into question, it were to the glory of God and quietness
of all parties brought to a good conclusion:” whereby, as I could
gather, he judged, that otherwise it would be a disturbance to a
great part of Christendom. Thus did it by his doings throughout the
whole course of his life appear, that all his travails and pains,
without respect of earthly commodities, either to himself or any of
his, were only upon the service of God, the Prince and the Realm,
wholly bestowed and employed; whom in his latter time I heard to say,
that he never asked of the King himself the value of one penny. As
Sir Thomas More’s custom was daily, if he were at home, besides his
private prayers with his children, to say the seven psalms, litany,
and suffrages following, was his guise nightly, before he went to
bed, with his wife, children, and household to go to his chapel, and
there upon his knees ordinarily to say certain psalms and collects
with them: and because he was desirous for godly purposes some time
to be solitary, and sequester himself from worldly company; a good
distance from his mansion house builded he a place, called the new
building, wherein was a chapel, a library, and a gallery, in which as
his use was upon other days to occupy himself in prayer and study
together, so on the Fridays there usually continued he from morning
unto evening, spending his time duly in devout prayers, and spiritual
exercises; and to provoke 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 everybody
giveth you good counsel, everybody giveth you good example. You see
virtue rewarded, and vice punished, so that you are carried up to
heaven even by the chins. But if you live in the time, that no man
will give you good counsel, nor no man will give you 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 life, if 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 to
them. “We may not look at our pleasure to go to heaven in feather
beds, it is not the way. For our Lord himself went thither with great
pain, and by many tribulations, which is the path wherein he walked
thither, and the servant may not look to be in better case than his
Master.” And as he would in this sort persuade them to take their
troubles patiently, so would he in like case teach them to withstand
the devil and his temptations, valiantly saying, “Whosoever will
mark the devil and his temptations, shall find him therein much like
to an ape. For as an ape not well looked to will be busy and bold to
do shrewd turns, and contrariwise being spied will suddenly leap back
and adventure no farther: so the devil, seeing a man idle, slothful,
and without resistance ready to receive his temptations, waxeth so
hardy that he will not fail still to continue with him, until to his
purpose he hath brought him: but on the other side, if he see a man
with diligence present to prevent and withstand his temptations, he
waxeth so weary, that in conclusion he forsaketh him. For as much as
the devil by disposition is a spirit of nature so envious, that he
feareth any more to assault him, lest that he should thereby not only
catch a foul fall himself, but also minister to the man more matter
of merit.” Thus delighted he evermore not only in virtuous
exercises to be occupied himself, but also to exhort his wife, and
children, and household to embrace and follow the same. To whom for
his notable virtue and godliness God showed, as he seemed, a manifest
miraculous token of his special favour towards him, at such time as
my wife (as many others that year were) was sick of the sweating
sickness, who lying in so great extremity of that disease, as by no
invention or devices, that physicians in such case commonly use (of
whom she had divers, both expert, wise, and well learned, then
continually attendant upon her) she could be kept from sleep: so that
both physicians and all others despaired her health and recovery, and
gave her over: her father (as he that most entirely tendered her)
being in no small heaviness for her, by prayer at God his hands
sought to get remedy, whereupon after his usual manner going up into
his new lodging, there in his chapel upon his knees with tears most
devoutly besought Almighty God, that it would be like his goodness,
unto whom nothing was impossible, if it were his blessed will, at his
mediation to vouchsafe graciously to hear his petition; where
incontinent came into his mind, that a glister should be the only way
to help her, which when he had told the physicians, they by-and-by
confessed, that if there were any hope of health, that it was the
very best help indeed, much marvelling of themselves, that they had
not afore remembered it. Then it was immediately ministered unto her
sleeping, which she could by no means have been brought unto waking,
and albeit after she was thereby thoroughly awaked, God’s marks,
evident undoubted token of death, plainly appeared upon her, yet she
(contrary to all their expectation) was (as it was thought) by her
father’s fervent prayer miraculously recovered, and at length again
to perfect health restored, whom if it had pleased God at that time
to have taken to his mercy, her father said he would never have
meddled with worldly matters after. Now while Sir Thomas More was
Chancellor of the Duchy, the See of Rome chanced to be void, which
was cause of much trouble. For Cardinal Wolsey, a man very ambitious,
and desirous (as good hope, and likelihood he had) to aspire unto
that dignity, perceiving himself of his expectation disappointed 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
was he chosen Pope, who from Spain (where he was then resident)
coming on foot to Rome, before his entry into that city did put off
his hose and shoes, barefooted and barelegged passing through the
streets towards his palace with such humbleness, that all the people
had him in great reverence. Cardinal Wolsey waxed so woe therewith,
that he studied to invent all ways of revengement of his grief
against the Emperor, which as it was the beginning of a lamentable
tragedy, so some part thereof not impertinent to my present purpose I
reckoned requisite here to put in remembrance. This Cardinal
therefore, not ignorant of the King’s unconstant and mutable
disposition, soon inclined to withdraw his devotion from his own most
noble and virtuous wife Queen Katherine, aunt to the Emperor, upon
every light occasion; and upon other, to her in nobility, wisdom,
virtue, favour and beauty far incomparable to fix his affection,
meaning to make his so light disposition an instrument to bring about
this his ungodly intent, devised to allure the King (then already
contrary to his mind nothing less looking for than falling in love
with the Lady Anne Bullen) to cast fancy to one of the French
Sisters, which thing, because of enmity and war was at that time
between the French King and the Emperor (whom, for the cause afore
remembered, he mortally maligned) he was desirous to procure, and for
the better achieving thereof requested Langland, Bishop of Lincoln,
and ghostly father to the King, to put a scruple into the King’s
head, that it was not lawful for him to marry his brother’s wife;
which the King not sorry to hear of, opened it first to Sir Thomas
More, whose counsel he required therein, showing him certain places
of Scripture, that somewhat seemed to serve his appetite, which when
he had perused, and thereupon, as one that never had professed the
study of Divinity himself, excused to be unmeet many ways to meddle
with such matters; the King, not satisfied with this answer, so sore
still pressed upon him, therefore, in conclusion he condescended to
his Grace his motion, and further, that the matter was of such
importance as needed good advice and deliberation, he besought his
Grace of sufficient respect advisedly to consider of it; wherewith
the King well contented said unto him; Tunstall and Clarke, Bishops
of Durham and Bath, with other learned of his Privy Council should
also be dealers therein. So Sir Thomas More departing, conferred
those places of Scripture with the exposition of divers of the old
holy doctors, and at his coming to the Court, in talking with his
Grace 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, and learned, and honourable prelates,
nor myself with the rest of your Council, being all your Grace’s
own servants, for your manifold benefits daily bestowed on us, so
most bounden unto you, be in my judgment meet counsellors for your
Grace herein; but if your Grace minds to understand the truth, such
counsellors may you have devised, as neither for respect of their own
worldly commodity, nor for fear of your princely authority, will be
inclined to deceive you.”
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