LIEUTENANT.
Tomorrow morning.
MORE. So, sir, I thank ye; I have not lived so ill, I fear to die. Master Lieutenant, I have had a sore fit of the stone tonight; but the king hath sent me such a rare receipt, I thank him, as I shall not need to fear it much.
LIEUTENANT.
In life and death still merry Sir Thomas More.
MORE.
Sirrah fellow, reach me the urinal:
[He gives it him.]
Ha! let me see (there’s) gravel in the water;
(And yet I see no grave danger in that)
The man were likely to live long enough,
So pleased the king.—Here, fellow, take it.
SERVANT.
Shall I go with it to the doctor, sir?
MORE.
No, save thy labour; we’ll cossen him of a fee:
Thou shalt see me take a dram tomorrow morning,
Shall cure the stone, I warrant; doubt it not.—
Master Lieutenant, what news of my Lord of Rochester?
LIEUTENANT.
Yesterday morning was he put to death.
MORE.
The peace of soul sleep with him!
He was a learned and a reverend prelate,
And a rich man, believe me.