MORE. Be comforted, good wife, to live and love my children; For with thee leave I all my care of them.— Son Roper, for my sake that have loved thee well, And for her virtue’s sake, cherish my child.— Girl, be not proud, but of thy husband’s love; Ever retain thy virtuous modesty; That modesty is such a comely garment As it is never out of fashion, sits as fair upon the meaner woman as the empress; No stuff that gold can buy is half so rich, Nor ornament that so becomes a woman. Live all and love together, and thereby You give your father a rich obsequy. BOTH DAUGHTERS. Your blessing, dear father. MORE. I must be gone—God bless you!— To talk with God, who now doth call. LADY MORE. Aye, my dear husband! MORE. Sweet wife, good night, good night: God send us all his everlasting light! ROPER. I think, before this hour, More heavy hearts ne’er parted in the Tower. [Exeunt.] SCENE IV. Tower Hill. [Enter the Sheriffs of London and their Officers at one door, the Warders with their halbards at another.] SECOND SHERIFF. Officers, what time of day ist? OFFICER. Almost eight o’clock. SECOND SHERIFF. We must make haste then, least we stay too long. SECOND WARDER. Good morrow, Master Shrieves of London; Master Lieutenant Wills ye repair to the limits of the Tower, There to receive your prisoner. FIRST SHERIFF. Go back, and tell his worship we are ready. SECOND SHERIFF. Go bid the officers make clear the way, There may be passage for the prisoner. [Enter Lieutenant and his Guard, with More.] MORE. Yet, God be thanked, here’s a fair day toward, To take our journey in. Master Lieutenant, It were fair walking on the Tower leads. LIEUTENANT. And so it might have liked my sovereign lord, I would to God you might have walked there still! [He weeps.] MORE. Sir, we are walking to a better place. Oh, sir, your kind and loving tears Are like sweet odors to embalm your friend! Thank your good lady; since I was your guest, She has made me a very wanton, in good sooth. LIEUTENANT. Oh, I had hoped we should not yet have parted! MORE. But I must leave ye for a little while; Within an hour or two you may look for me; But there will be so many come to see me, That I shall be so proud, I will not speak; And, sure, my memory is grown so ill, I fear I shall forget my head behind me. LIEUTENANT. God and his blessed angels be about ye!— Here, Master Shrieves, receive your prisoner. MORE. Good morrow, Master Shrieves of London, to ye both: I thank ye that ye will vouchsafe to meet me; I see by this you have not quite forgot That I was in times past, as you are now, A sheriff of London. SECOND SHERIFF. Sir, then you know our duty doth require it. MORE. I know it well, sir, else I would have been glad You might have saved a labour at this time. Ah, Master Sheriff, you and I have been of old acquaintance! you were a patient auditor of mine, when I read the divinity lecture at St. Lawrence’s.