BONNER. Good day, old friend; what, you look somewhat worn; And yet it is a day to test your health Ev'n at the best: I scarce have spoken with you Since when?--your degradation. At your trial Never stood up a bolder man than you; You would not cap the Pope's commissioner-- Your learning, and your stoutness, and your heresy, Dumbfounded half of us. So, after that, We had to dis-archbishop and unlord, And make you simple Cranmer once again. The common barber dipt your hair, and I Scraped from your finger-points the holy oil; And worse than all, you had to kneel to _me_; Which was not pleasant for you, Master Cranmer. Now you, that would not recognise the Pope, And you, that would not own the Real Presence, Have found a real presence in the stake, Which frights you back into the ancient faith: And so you have recanted to the Pope. How are the mighty fallen, Master Cranmer! CRANMER. You have been more fierce against the Pope than I; But why fling back the stone he strikes me with? [_Aside_. O Bonner, if I ever did you kindness-- Power hath been given you to try faith by fire-- Pray you, remembering how yourself have changed, Be somewhat pitiful, after I have gone, To the poor flock--to women and to children-- That when I was archbishop held with me. BONNER. Ay--gentle as they call you--live or die! Pitiful to this pitiful heresy? I must obey the Queen and Council, man. Win thro' this day with honour to yourself, And I'll say something for you--so--good-bye. [_Exit_. CRANMER. This hard coarse man of old hath crouch'd to me Till I myself was half ashamed for him. _Enter_ THIRLBY. Weep not, good Thirlby. THIRLBY. Oh, my Lord, my Lord! My heart is no such block as Bonner's is: Who would not weep? CRANMER. Why do you so my--lord me, Who am disgraced? THIRLBY. On earth; but saved in heaven By your recanting. CRANMER. Will they burn me, Thirlby? THIRLBY. Alas, they will; these burnings will not help The purpose of the faith; but my poor voice Against them is a whisper to the roar Of a spring-tide. CRANMER. And they will surely burn me? THIRLBY. Ay; and besides, will have you in the church Repeat your recantation in the ears Of all men, to the saving of their souls, Before your execution. May God help you Thro' that hard hour! CRANMER. And may God bless you, Thirlby! Well, they shall hear my recantation there. [_Exit_ THIRLBY.