It was now the turn of Sir Thomas More. On the 1st of July, 1535, he was summoned before the court of King's Bench. The former Chancellor of England quitted his prison in a frieze cloak, which had grown foul in the dungeon, and proceeded on foot through the most frequented streets of London on his road to Westminster. His thin pale face; his white hair, the effect not of time but of sorrow and imprisonment; the staff on which he leant,[134] for he walked with difficulty, made a deep impression on the people. When he arrived at the bar of that tribunal over which he had so often presided, and looked around him, though weakened by suffering, with a countenance full of mildness, all the spectators were moved. The indictment was long and perplexed:[135] he was accused of high-treason. Sir Thomas, endeavoring to keep on his feet, said: 'My Lords, the charges brought against me are so numerous, that I fear, considering my great weakness, I shall be unable to remember them all.' He stopped: his body trembled and he was near falling. A chair was brought him, and after taking his seat, he continued: 'I have never uttered a single word in opposition to the statute which proclaims the king head of the Church.'—'If we cannot produce your words,' said the king's attorney, 'we can produce your silence.'—'No one can be condemned for his silence,' nobly answered More. '_Qui tacet consentire videtur_, Silence gives consent, according to the lawyers.'[136] [Sidenote: SIR THOMAS MORE SENTENCED.] Nothing could save him: the jury returned a verdict of guilty. 'Now that all is over,' said the prisoner, 'I will speak. Yes, the oath of supremacy is illegal. The Great Charter laid down that _the Church of England is free_, so that its rights and liberties might be equally preserved.'[137]—'The Church must be _free_,' said the lawyers: 'it is not therefore the slave of the pope.'—'Yes, _free_,' retorted More; 'it is not therefore the slave of the king.' The chancellor then pronounced sentence, condemning him to be hanged at Tyburn, and then quartered, while still alive. Henry spared his illustrious subject and old friend from this cruel punishment, and ordered that he should be merely beheaded. 'God save all my friends from his Majesty's favor,' said Sir Thomas, 'and spare my children from similar indulgences.... I hope, my lords,' said the ex-chancellor, turning meekly towards his judges, 'that though you have condemned me on earth, we may all meet hereafter in heaven.'