|
First BookPart II
Part II
Yea forsooth (quoth he) and there I tarried for the space of four or five
months together, not long after the insurrection, that the western Englishmen
made against their king, which by their own miserable and pitiful slaughter
was suppressed and ended. In the mean season I was much bound and beholden to
the right reverend father, John Morton, Archbishop and Cardinal of Canterbury,
and at that time also Lord Chancellor of England: a man, Master Peter (for
Master More knoweth already that I will say), not more honourable for his
authority, than for his prudence and virtue. He was of a mean stature, and
though stricken in age, yet bare he his body upright. In his face did shine
such an amiable reverence, as was pleasant to behold, gentle in communication,
yet earnest, and sage. He had great delight many times with rough speech to
his suitors, to prove, but without harm, what prompt wit and what bold spirit
were in every man. In the which, as in a virtue much agreeing with his nature,
so that therewith were not joined impudence, he took great delectation. And
the same person, as apt and meet to have an administration in the weal public,
he did lovingly embrace. In his speech he was fine, eloquent, and pithy. In
the law he had profound knowledge, in wit he was incomparable, and in memory
wonderful excellent. These qualities, which in him were by nature singular,
he by learning and use had made perfect. The king put much trust in his
counsel, the weal public also in a manner leaned unto him, when I was there.
For even in the chief of his youth he was taken from school into the court,
and there passed all his time in much trouble and business, and was
continually tumbled and tossed in the waves of divers misfortunes and
adversities. And so by many and great dangers he learned the experience of the
world, which so being learned can not easily be forgotten. It chanced on a
certain day, when I sat at his table, there was also a certain layman cunning
in the laws of your realm. Which, I cannot tell whereof taking occasion, began
diligently and busily to praise that strait and rigorous justice, which at
that time was there executed upon felons, who, as he said, were for the most
part twenty hanged together upon one gallows. And, seeing so few escaped
punishment, he said he could not choose, but greatly wonder and marvel, how
and by what evil luck it should so come to pass, that thieves nevertheless
were in every place so rife and rank. Nay, sir, quoth I (for I durst boldly
speak my mind before the Cardinal), marvel nothing hereat: for this punishment
of thieves passeth the limits [of] justice, and is also very hurtful to the
weal public. For it is too extreme and cruel a punishment for theft, and yet
not sufficient to refrain men from theft. For simple theft is not so great an
offence, that it ought to be punished with death. Neither there is any
punishment so horrible, that it can keep them from stealing, which have no
other craft, whereby to get their living. Therefore in this point, not you
only, but also the most part of the world, be like evil schoolmasters, which
be readier to beat, than to teach their scholars. For great and horrible
punishments be appointed for thieves, whereas much rather provision should
have been made, that there were some means, whereby they might get their
living, so that no man should be driven to this extreme necessity, first to
steal, and then to die. Yes (quoth he) this matter is well enough provided for
already. There be handicrafts, there is husbandry to get their living by, if
they would not willingly be nought. Nay, quoth I, you shall not `scape so: for
first of all, I will speak nothing of them, that come home out of war, maimed
and lame, as not long ago, out of Blackheath field, and a little before that,
out of the wars in France: such, I say, as put their lives in jeopardy for the
weal public`s or the king`s sake, and by the reason of weakness and lameness
be not able to occupy their old crafts, and be too aged to learn new: of them
I will speak nothing, because war like the tide ebbeth and floweth. But let us
consider those things that chance daily before our eyes. First there is a
great number of gentlemen, which cannot be content to live idle themselves,
like drones, of that which other have laboured for: their tenants I mean, whom
they poll and shave to the quick by raising their rents (for this only point
of frugality do they use, men else through their lavish and prodigal spending,
able to bring themselves to very beggary) these gentlemen, (I say), do not
only live in idleness themselves, but also carry about with them at their
tails a great flock or train of idle and loitering serving-men, which never
learned any craft whereby to get their livings. These men as soon as their
master is dead, or be sick themselves, be incontinent thrust out of doors. For
gentlemen had rather keep idle persons, than sick men, and many times the dead
man`s heir is not able to maintain so great a house, and keep so many
serving-men as his father did. Then in the mean season they that be thus
destitute of service, either starve for hunger, or manfully play the thieves.
For what would you have them to do? When they have wandered abroad so long,
until they have worn threadbare their apparel, and also impaired their health,
then gentlemen because of their pale and sick faces, and patched coats, will
not take them into service. And husbandmen dare not set them a work, knowing
well enough that he is nothing meet to do true and faithful service to a poor
man with a spade and a mattock for small wages and hard fare, which being
daintily and tenderly pampered up in idleness and pleasure, was wont with a
sword and a buckler by his side to strut through the street with a bragging
look, and to think himself too good to be any man`s mate. Nay, by Saint Mary,
sir (quoth the lawyer) not so. For this kind of men must we make most of. For
in them as men of stouter stomachs, bolder spirits, and manlier courages than
handicraftsmen and ploughmen be, doth consist the whole power, strength, and
puissance of our host, when we must fight in battle. Forsooth, sir, as well
you might say (quoth I) that for war`s sake you must cherish thieves. For
surely you shall never lack thieves, whiles you have them. No, nor thieves be
not the most false and faint-hearted soldiers, nor soldiers be not the
cowardliest thieves: so well these two crafts agree together. But this
fault, though it be much used among you, yet is it not peculiar to you, only
but common also almost to all nations. Yet France besides this is troubled and
infected with a much sorer plague. The whole realm is filled and besieged with
hired soldiers in peace time (if that be peace) which be brought in under the
same colour and pretence that hath persuaded you to keep these idle serving
men. For these wise fools and very archdolts thought the wealth of the whole
country herein to consist, if there were ever in a readiness a strong and a
sure garrison, specially of old practiced soldiers, for they put no trust at
all in men unexercised. And therefore they must be fain to seek for war, to
the end they may ever have practiced soldiers and cunning manslayers, less
that (as it is prettily said of Sallust) their hands and their minds through
idleness or lack of exercise should wax dull. But how pernicious and pestilent
a thing it is to maintain such beasts, the Frenchmen, by their own harms have
learned, and the examples of the Romans, Carthaginians, Syrians, and of many
other countries do manifestly declare. For not only the empire but also the
fields and cities of all these, by divers occasions have been overrun and
destroyed of their own armies beforehand had in a readiness. Now how
unnecessary a thing this is, hereby it may appear: that the French soldiers,
which from their youth have been practiced and inured in feats of arms, do not
crack nor advance themselves to have very often got the upper hand and mastery
of your new-made and unpracticed soldiers. But in this point I will not use
many words, lest perchance I may seem to flatter you. No, nor those same
handicraftsmen of your in cities, nor yet the rude and uplandish ploughmen of
the country, are not supposed to be greatly afraid of your gentlemen`s idle
serving-men, unless it be such as be not of body or stature correspondent to
their strength and courage, or else whose bold stomachs be discouraged through
poverty. Thus you may see, that it is not to be feared lest they should be
effeminated, if they were brought up in good crafts and laboursome works,
whereby to get their living, those stout and sturdy bodies (for gentlemen
vouchsafe to corrupt and spoil none but picked and chosen men) now either by
reason of rest and idleness be brought to weakness: or else by too easy and
womanly exercises be made feeble and unable to endure hardness. Truly,
howsoever the case standeth, this methinketh is nothing available to the weal
public, for war`s sake, which you never have, but when you will yourselves, to
keep and maintain an innumerable flock of that sort of men, that be so
troublesome and annoyous in peace, whereof you ought to have a thousand times
more regard than of war. But yet this is not only the necessary cause of
stealing. There is another, which, as I suppose, is proper and peculiar to you
Englishmen alone. What is that, quoth the Cardinal? forsooth (quoth I) your
sheep that were wont to be so meek and tame, and so small eaters, now, as I
hear say, be become so great devourers and so wild, that they eat up, and
swallow down the very men themselves. They consume, destroy, and devour whole
fields, houses, and cities. For look in what parts of the realm doth grow the
finest and therefore dearest wool, there noblemen and gentlemen, yea and
certain abbots, holy men God wot not contenting themselves with the yearly
revenues and profits, that were wont to grow to their forefathers and
predecessors of their lands, nor being content that they live in rest and
pleasure nothing profiting, yea much annoying the weal public, leave no ground
for tillage, they inclose all in pastures; they throw down houses; they pluck
down towns, and leave nothing standing, but only the church to make of it a
sheep-house. And as though you lost no small quantity of ground by forests,
chases, lawns, and parks, those good holy men turn all dwelling-places and all
glebeland into desolation and wilderness. Therefore that one covetous and
insatiable cormorant and very plague of his native country may compass about
and inclose many thousand acres of ground together within one pale or hedge,
the husbandmen be thrust out of their own, or else either by cunning and
fraud, or by violent oppression they be put besides it, or by wrongs and
injuries they be so wearied, that they be compelled to sell all: by one means
therefore or by other, either by hook or crook they must needs depart away,
poor, silly, wretched souls, men, women, husbands, wives, fatherless children,
widows, woeful mothers, with their young babes, and their whole households
small in substance and much in number, as husbandry requireth many hands. Away
they trudge, I say, out of their known and accustomed houses, finding no
places to rest in. All their household stuff, which is very little worth,
though it might well abide the sale: yet being suddenly thrust out, they be
constrained to sell it for a thing of nought. And when they, have wandering
about, soon spent that, what can they else do but steal, and then justly, God
wot, be hanged, or else go about a begging. And yet then also they be cast in
prison as vagabonds, because they go about and work not: whom no man will set
a work, though they never so willingly offer themselves thereto. For one
shepherd or herdsman is enough to eat up that ground with cattle, to the
occupying whereof about husbandry many hands were requisite. And this is also
the cause that victuals be now in many places dearer. Yea, besides this the
price of wool is so risen, that poor folks, which were wont to work it and
make cloth of it, be now able to buy none at all. And by this means very many
be fain to forsake work, and to give themselves to idleness. For after that so
much ground was inclosed for pasture, an infinite multitude of sheep died of
the rot, such vengeance God took of their inordinate and insatiable
covetousness, sending among the sheep that pestiferous murrain, which much
more justly should have fallen on the sheepmasters` own heads. And though the
number of sheep increase never so fast, yet the price falleth not one mite,
because there be so few sellers. For they be almost all come into a few rich
men`s hands, whom no need driveth to sell before they lust, and they lust not
before they may sell as dear as they lust. Now the same cause bringeth in like
dearth of the other kinds of cattle, yea and that so much the more, because
that after farms plucked down and husbandry decayed, there is no man that
passeth for the breeding of young store. For these rich men bring not up the
young ones of great cattle as they do lambs. But first they buy them abroad
very cheap and afterward, when they be fatted in their pastures, they sell
them again exceeding dear. And therefore (as I suppose) the whole incommodity
hereof is not yet felt. For yet they make dearth only in those places where
they sell. But when they shall fetch them away from thence where they be bred
faster than they can be brought up: then shall there also be felt great
dearth, when store beginneth to fail, there where the ware is brought. Thus
the unreasonable covetousness of a few hath turned that thing to the utter
undoing of your island, in the which thing the chief felicity of your realm
did consist. For this great dearth of victuals causeth every man to keep as
little houses and as small hospitality as he possible may, and to put away
their servants: whether, I pray you, but a begging: or else (which these
gentle bloods and stout stomachs will sooner set their minds unto) a stealing?
Now to amend the matters, to this wretched beggary and miserable poverty is
joined great wantonness, importunate superfluity, and excessive riot. For not
only gentlemen`s servants, but also handicraftsmen: yea and almost the
ploughmen of the country, with all other sorts of people, use much strange and
proud newfangleness in their apparel, and too much prodigal riot and sumptuous
fare at their table. Now bawds, queans, whores, harlots, strumpets, brothel
houses, stews, and yet another stews, wine-taverns, ale houses and tippling
houses, with so many naughty, lewd, and unlawful games, as dice, cards,
tables, tennis, bowls, quoits, do not all these send the haunters of them
straight a stealing when their money is gone? Cast out these pernicious
abominations, make a law, that they, which plucked down farms and towns of
husbandry, shall build them up again, or else yield and uprender the
possession of them to such as will go to the cost of building them anew.
Suffer not these rich men to buy up all, to engross and forestall, and with
their monopoly to keep the market alone as please them. Let not so many be
brought up in idleness, let husbandry and tillage be restored again, let
clothworking be renewed, that there may be honest labours for this idle sort
to pass their time in profitably, which hitherto either poverty hath caused to
be thieves, or else now be either vagabonds, or idle serving men, and shortly
will be thieves. Doubtless unless you find a remedy for these enormities, you
shall in vain advance yourselves of executing justice upon felons. For this
justice is more beautiful than just or profitable. For by suffering your youth
wantonly and viciously to be brought up, and to be infected, even from their
tender age, and little with vice: then a God`s name to be punished, when they
commit the same faults after they be come to man`s state, which from their
youth they were ever like to do: In this point, I pray you, what other thing
do you, than make thieves and then punish them? Now as I was thus speaking,
the lawyer began to make himself ready to answer, and was determined with
himself to use the common fashion and trade of disputers, which be more
diligent in rehearsing than answering, as thinking the memory worthy of the
chief praise. Indeed, sir, quoth he, you have said well, being but a stranger
and one that might rather hear something of these matters, than have any
exact or perfect knowledge of the same, as I will incontinent by open proof
make manifest and plain. For first I will rehearse in order all that you have
said: then I will declare in what thing you be deceived, through lack of
knowledge, in all our fashions, manners and customs: and last of all I will
answer to your arguments and confute them every one. First therefore, I will
begin where I promised. Four things you seemed to me. Hold your peace, quoth
the Cardinal: for be like you will make no short answer, which make such a
beginning. Wherefore at this time you shall not take the pains to make your
answer, but keep it to your next meeting, which I would be right glad, that
it might be even tomorrow next, unless either you or Master Raphael have any
earnest let. But now, Master Raphael, I would very gladly hear of you, why
you think theft not worthy to be punished with death, or what other
punishment you can devise more expedient to the weal public. For I am sure
you are not of that mind, that you would have theft escape unpunished. For if
now the extreme punishment of death cannot cause them to leave stealing, then
if ruffians and robbers should be sure of their lives; what violence, what
fear were able to hold their hands from robbing, which would take the
mitigation of the punishment, as a very provocation to the mischief? Surely
my lord, quoth I, I think it not right nor justice, that the loss of money
should cause the loss of man`s life. For mine opinion is, that all the goods
in the world are not able to countervail man`s life. But if they would thus
say: that the breaking of justice, and the transgression of the laws is
recompensed with this punishment, and not the loss of the money, then why may
not this extreme justice well be called extreme injury? For neither so cruel
governance, so strait rules, and unmerciful laws be allowable, that if a
small offence be committed, by-and-by the sword should be drawn: nor so
stoical ordinances are to be borne withal, as to count all offences of such
equality that the killing of a man, or the taking of his money from him were
both a matter, and the one no more heinous offence than the other: between
the which two, if we have any respect to equity, no similitude or equality
consisteth. God commandeth us that we shall not kill. And be we then so hasty
to kill a man for taking a little money? And if any man would understand
killing by this commandment of God to be forbidden after no larger wise, than
man`s constitutions define killing to be lawful, then why may it not likewise
by man`s constitutions be determined after what sort whoredom, fornication
and perjury may be lawful? For whereas, by the permission of God, no man hath
power to kill neither himself, nor yet any other man: then if a law made by
the consent of men, concerning slaughter of men, ought to be of such
strength, force and virtue, that they which, contrary to the commandment of
God, have killed those, whom this constitution of man commanded to be killed,
be clean quit and exempt out of the bonds and danger of God`s commandment:
shall it not then by this reason follow, that the power of God`s commandment
shall extend no further than man`s law doth define, and permit? And so shall
it come to pass, that in like manner man`s constitutions in all things shall
determine how far the observation of all God`s commandments shall extend. To
be short, Moses` law, though it were ungentle and sharp, as a law that was
given to bondmen; yea, and them very obstinate, stubborn, and stiff-necked;
yet it punished theft by the purse, and not with death. And let us not think
that God in the new law of clemency and mercy, under the which he ruleth us
with fatherly gentleness, as his dear children, hath given us greater scope
and license to execute cruelty, one upon another. Now, ye have heard the
reasons whereby I am persuaded that this punishment is unlawful. Furthermore
I think there is nobody that knoweth not how unreasonable, yea, how
pernicious a thing it is to the weal public, that a thief and an homicide or
murderer, should suffer equal and like punishment. For the thief seeing that
man, that is condemned for theft in no less jeopardy, nor judged to no less
punishment, than him that is convict of manslaughter; through this cogitation
only he is strongly and forcibly provoked, and in a manner constrained to
kill him whom else he would have but robbed. For the murder once done, he is
in less care, and in more hope that the deed shall not be bewrayed or known,
seeing the party is now dead and rid out of the way, which only might have
uttered and disclosed it. But if he chance to be taken and discrived, yet he
is in no more danger and jeopardy, than if he had committed but single
felony. Therefore whiles we go about with such cruelty to make thieves
afraid, we provoke them to kill good men. Now as touching this question, what
punishment were more commodious and better; that truly in my judgment is
easier to be found than what punishment were worse. For why should we doubt
that to be a good and a profitable way for the punishment of offenders, which
we know did in times past so long please the Romans, men in the
administration of a weal public most expert, politic, and cunning? Such as
among them were convict of great and heinous trespasses, them they condemned
into stone quarries, and into mines to dig metal, there to be kept in chains
all the days of their life. But as concerning this matter, I allow the
ordinance of no nation so well as that I saw, whiles I travelled abroad about
the world, used in Persia among the people that commonly be called the
Polylerites. Whose land is both large and ample, and also well and wittily
governed: and the people in all conditions free and ruled by their own
laws, saving that they pay a yearly tribute to the great king of Persia. But
because they be far from the sea, compassed and closed in almost round about
with high mountains, and do content themselves with the fruits of their own
land, which is of itself very fertile and fruitful: for this cause neither
they go to other countries, nor other come to them. And according to the old
custom of the land, they desire not to enlarge the bounds of their dominions:
and those that they have, by reason of the high hills be easily defended: and
the tribute which they pay to their chief lord and king setteth them quiet and
free from warfare. Thus their life is commodious rather than gallant, and may
better be called happy or lucky, than notable or famous. For they be not known
as much as by name, I suppose, saving only to their next neighbours and
borderers. They that in this land be attainted and convict of felony, make
restitution of that they stole, to the right owner, and not (as they do in
other lands) to the king: whom they think to have no more right to the
thief-stolen thing, than the thief himself hath. But if the thing be lost or
made away, then the value of it is paid of the goods of such offenders, which
else remaineth all whole to their wives and children. And they themselves be
condemned to be common labourers, and, unless the theft be very heinous, they
be neither locked in prison nor fettered in gyves, but be untied and go at
large, labouring in the common works. They that refuse labour, or go slowly
and slackly to their work, be not only tied in chains, but also pricked
forward with stripes. They that be diligent about their work live without
check or rebuke. Every night they be called in by name, and be locked in their
chambers. Beside their daily labour, their life is nothing hard or
incommodious. Their fare is indifferent good, borne at the charges of the weal
public, because they be common servants to the commonwealth. But their charges
in all places of the land is not borne alike. For in some part that is
bestowed upon them is gathered of alms. And though that way be uncertain, yet
the people be so full of mercy and pity, that none is found more profitable or
plentiful. In some places certain lands be appointed hereunto, of the revenues
whereof they be maintained. And in some places every man giveth a certain
tribute for the same use and purpose. Again in some parts of the land these
serving-men (for so be these condemned persons called) do no common work, but
as every private man needeth labourers, so he cometh into the market place,
and there hireth some of them for meat and drink, and a certain limited wages
by the day, somewhat cheaper than he should hire a free man. It is also lawful
for them to chastise the sloth of these serving-men with stripes. By this
means they never lack work, and besides their meat and drink, every one of
them bringeth daily something into the common treasury. All and every one of
them be apparelled in one colour. Their heads be not polled or shaven, but
rounded a little above the ears. And the tip of the one ear is cut off. Every
one of them may take meat and drink of their friends, and also a coat of their
own colour: but to receive money is death, as well to the giver, as to the
receiver. And no less jeopardy it is for a free man to receive money of a
serving-man for any manner of cause: and likewise for serving-men to touch
weapons. The serving-men of every several shire be distinct and known from
other by their several and distinct badges: which to cast away is death: as
it is also to be seen out of the precincts of their own shire, or to talk with
a serving-man of another shire. And it is no less danger to them, for to
intend to run away than to do it indeed. Yea and to conceal such an enterprise
in a serving-man it is death, in a free man servitude. Of the contrary part,
to him that openeth and uttereth such counsels, be decreed large gifts; to a
free man a great sum of money, to a serving-man freedom: and to them both
forgiveness and pardon of that they were of counsel in that pretence. So that
it can never be so good for them to go forward in their evil purpose, as by
repentance to turn back. This is the law and order in this behalf, as I have
showed you. Wherein what humanity is used, how far it is from cruelty, and how
commodious it is, you do plainly perceive: forasmuch as the end of their wrath
and punishment intendeth nothing else, but the destruction of vices, and
saving of men: with so using and ordering them, that they cannot choose but be
good, and what harm soever they did before, in the residue of their life to
make amends for the same. Moreover it is so little feared, that they should
turn again to their vicious conditions, that wayfaring men will for their
safeguard choose them to their guides before any other, in every shire
changing and taking new. For if they would commit robbery, they have nothing
about them meet for that purpose. They may touch no weapons: money found about
them should betray the robbery. They should be no sooner taken with the
manner, but forthwith they should be punished. Neither they can have any hope
at all to `scape away by flying. For how should a man, that in no part of his
apparel is like other men, fly privily and unknown, unless he would run away
naked? Howbeit so also flying he should be discrived by his rounding and his
ear-mark. But it is a thing to be doubted, that they will lay their heads
together, and conspire against the weal public. No, no, I warrant you. For the
serving-men of one shire alone could never hope to bring to pass such an
enterprise, without soliciting, enticing, and alluring the serving-men of many
other shires to take their parts. Which thing is to them so impossible, that
they may not as much as speak or talk together, or salute one another. No, it
is not to be thought that they would make their own countrymen and companions
of their counsel in such a matter which they know well should be jeopardy to
the concealer thereof, and great commodity and goodness to the opener of the
same. Whereas on the other part, there is none of them all hopeless or in
despair to recover again his freedom, by humble obedience, by patient
suffering and by giving good tokens and likelihood of himself, that he will,
ever after that, live like a true and an honest man. For every year divers be
restored again to their freedom: through the commendation of their patience.
When I had thus spoken, saying moreover that I could see no cause why this
order might not be had in England with much more profit, than the justice
which the lawyer so highly praised: Nay, quoth the lawyer, this could never be
so established in England, but that it must needs bring the weal public into
great jeopardy and hazard. And as he was thus saying, he shaked his head, and
made a wry mouth, and so held his peace. And all that were there present, with
one assent agreed to his saying. Well, quoth the Cardinal, yet it were hard to
judge without a proof, whether this order would do well here or no. But when
the sentence of death is given, if then the king should command execution to
be deferred and spared, and would prove this order and fashion: taking away
the privileges of all sanctuaries: if then the proof would declare the thing
to be good and profitable, then it were well done that it were established;
else the condemned and reprieved persons may as well and as justly be put to
death after this proof, as when they were first cast. Neither any jeopardy can
in the mean space grow hereof. Yea, and methinketh that these vagabonds may
very well be ordered after the same fashion, against whom we have hitherto
made so many laws, and so little prevailed. When the Cardinal had thus said,
then every man gave great praise to my sayings, which a little before they had
disallowed. But most of all was esteemed that which was spoken of vagabonds,
because it was the Cardinal`s own addition. I cannot tell whether it were best
to rehearse the communication that followed, for it was not very sad. But yet
you shall hear it, for there was no evil in it, and partly it pertained to the
matter beforesaid. There chanced to stand by a certain jesting parasite, or
scoffer, which would seem to resemble and counterfeit the fool. But he did in
such wise counterfeit, that he was almost the very same indeed that he
laboured to represent: he so studied with words and sayings brought forth so
out of time and place to make sport and move laughter, that he himself was
oftener laughed at than his jests were. Yet the foolish fellow brought out now
and then such indifferent and reasonable stuff, that he made the proverb true,
which saith: he that shooteth oft at the last shall hit the mark. So that when
one of the company said, that through my communication a good order was found
for thieves, and that the Cardinal also had well provided for vagabonds, so
that only remained some good provision to be made for them that through
sickness and age were fallen into poverty, and were become so impotent and
unwieldy, that they were not able to work for their living: Tush (quoth he)
let me alone with them: you shall see me do well enough with them. For I had
rather than any good, that this kind of people were driven some whether out of
my sight, they have so sore troubled me many times and oft, when they have
with their lamentable tears begged money of me: and yet they could never to
my mind so tune their song, that thereby they ever got of me one farthing. For
evermore the one of these two chanced: either that I would not, or else that I
could not, because I had it not. Therefore now they be waxed wise. When they
see me go by, because they will not lose their labour, they let me go and say
not one word to me. So they look for nothing of me, no in good sooth no more,
than if I were a priest. But I will make a law, that all these beggars shall
be distributed and bestowed into houses of religion. The men shall be made lay
brethren, as they call them, and the women nuns. Hereat the Cardinal smiled,
and allowed it in jest, yea and all the residue in good earnest. But a certain
friar, graduate in divinity, took such pleasure and delight in this jest of
priests and monks, that he also being else a man of grisly and stern gravity,
began merrily and wantonly to jest and taunt. Nay, quoth he, you shall not so
be rid and despatched of beggars, unless you make some provision also for us
friars. Why, quoth the jester, that is done already, for my lord himself set
a very good order for you, when he decreed that vagabonds should be kept
strait and set to work: for you be the greatest and veriest vagabonds that be.
This jest also, when they saw the Cardinal not disprove it, every man took it
gladly, saving only the friar. For he (and that no marvel) when he was thus
touched on the quick, and hit on the gall, so fret, so fumed, and chafed at
it, and was in such a rage, that he could not refrain himself from chiding,
scolding, railing and reviling. He called the fellow ribald, villain, javel,
back-biter, slanderer, and the son of perdition: citing therewith terrible
threatening out of Holy Scripture. Then the jesting scoffer began to play the
scoffer indeed, and verily he was good at it, for he could play a part in that
play no man better. Patient yourself, good master friar, quoth he, and be not
angry, for Scripture saith: in your patience you shall save your souls. Then
the friar (for I will rehearse his own very words), No, gallows wretch, I am
not angry (quoth he) or at the leastwise, I do not sin: for the Psalmist
saith, be you angry, and sin not. Then the Cardinal spake gently to the friar,
and desired him to quiet himself. No my lord, quoth he, I speak not but of a
good zeal as I ought: for holy men had a good zeal. Wherefore it is said: the
seal of the house hath eaten me. And it is sung in the church, the scorners of
Helizeus, whiles he went up into the house of God, felt the zeal of the bald,
as peradventure this scorning villain ribald shall feel. You do it (quoth the
Cardinal) perchance of a good mind and affection: but methinketh you should
do, I cannot tell whether more holily, certes more wisely, if you would not
set your wit to a fool`s wit, and with a fool take in hand a foolish
contention. No forsooth, my lord (quoth he) I should not do more wisely. For
Solomon the wise saith: Answer a fool according to his foolishness, like as I
do now, and do show him the pit that he shall fall into, if he take not heed.
For if many scorners of Helizeus, which was but one bald man, felt the zeal of
the bald, how much more shall one scorner of many friars feel, among whom be
many bald men? And we have also the pope`s bulls, whereby all that mock and
scorn us be excommunicate, suspended and accursed. The Cardinal, seeing that
none end would be made, sent away the jester by a privy beck, and turned the
communication to another matter. Shortly after, when he was risen from the
table, he went to hear his suitors, and so dismissed us. Look, Master More,
with how long and tedious a tale I have kept you, which surely I would have
been ashamed to have done, but that you so earnestly desired me, and did after
such a sort give ear unto it, as though you would not that any parcel of that
communication should be left out. Which though I have done somewhat briefly,
yet could I not choose but rehearse it, for the judgment of them, which when
they had improved and disallowed my sayings, yet incontinent, hearing the
Cardinal allow them, did themselves also approve the same: so impudently
flattering him, that they were nothing ashamed to admit, yea almost in good
earnest, his jester`s foolish inventions: because that he himself by smiling
at them did seem not to disprove them. So that hereby you may right well
perceive how little the courtiers would regard and esteem me and my sayings.
|