accepted with good will.  They had connected themselves, perhaps unintentionally, with a body of confessed traitors.  An opportunity was offered them of giving evidence of their loyalty, and escaping from the shadow of distrust.  More had been treated leniently; Fisher had been treated far more than leniently.  It was both fair and natural that they should be called upon to give proof that their lesson had not been learnt in vain; and, in fact, no other persons, if they had been passed over, could have been called upon to swear, for no other persons had laid themselves open to so just suspicion.

Their conduct so exactly tallied, that they must have agreed beforehand on the course which they would adopt; and in following the details, we need concern ourselves only with the nobler figure.

The commissioners sate at the archbishop’s palace at Lambeth; and at the end of April, Sir Thomas More received a summons to appear before them.[714] He was at his house at Chelsea, where for the last two years he had lived in deep retirement, making ready for evil times.  Those times at length were come.  On the morning on which he was to present himself, he confessed and received the sacrament in Chelsea church; and “whereas,” says his great-grandson, “at other times, before he parted from his wife and children, they used to bring him to his boat, and he there kissing them bade them farewell, at this time he suffered none of them to follow him forth of his gate, but pulled the wicket after him, and with a heavy heart he took boat with his son Roper."[715] He was leaving his home for the last time, and he knew it.  He sat silent for some minutes, and then, with a sudden start, said, “I thank our Lord, the field is won.”  Lambeth Palace was crowded with people who had come on the same errand with himself.  More was called in early, and found Cromwell present with the four commissioners, and also the Abbot of Westminster.  The oath was read to him.  It implied that he should keep the statute of succession in all its parts, and he desired to see the statute itself.  He read it through, and at once replied that others might do as they pleased; he would blame no one for taking the oath; but for himself it was impossible.  He would swear willingly to the part of it which secured the succession to the children of Queen Anne.[716] That was a matter on which parliament was competent to decide, and he had no right to make objections.  If he might be allowed to take an oath to this portion of the statute in language of his own, he would do it; but as the words stood, he would “peril his soul” by using them.  The Lord Chancellor desired him to re-consider his answer.  He retired to the garden, and in his absence others were called in; among them the Bishop of Rochester, who refused in the same terms.  More was then recalled.  He was asked if he persisted in his resolution; and when he replied that he did, he was requested to state his reasons.  He said that he was afraid of increasing the king’s displeasure, but if he could be assured that he might explain himself safely he was ready to do so.  If his objection could then be answered to his satisfaction, he would swear; in the meantime, he repeated, very explicitly, that he judged no one—­he spoke only for himself.