Eye-flatt'ring fortune, look thou never so fair,
Or never so pleasantly begin to smile,
As though thou wouldst my ruin all repair,
During my life thou shalt not me beguile,
Trust shall I God to enter in a while,
Thy haven of heaven sure and uniform,
Ever after thy calm look I for a storm.[1]
When Sir Thomas More had continued a good while in the Tower, my lady, his wife, obtained license to see him. Who, at her first coming, like a simple ignorant woman, and somewhat worldly too, with this manner of salutation bluntly saluted him: "What the good yere, Master More," quoth she, "I marvel that you that have been always hitherto taken for so wise a man, will now so play the fool to lie here in this close filthy prison, and be content thus to be shut up among mice and rats, when you might be abroad at your liberty, and with the favour and good will both of the king and his council, if you would but do as all the bishops and best learned of this realm have done. And seeing you have at Chelsea a right fair house, your library, your gallery, your garden, your orchard, and all other necessaries so handsome about you, where you might in the company of me your wife, your
- ↑ These verses are printed in the works of Sir Thomas More, p. 1432; and are there entitled "Lewys the lost Lover:" another short copy of verses follows, entitled "Davy the Dycer."
