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r duty, you have not far to go.'[132] Just as he mounted the scaffold, the sun burst out and shone upon his face: They looked unto him and were lightened, he cried, and their faces were not ashamed.[133] It was ten o'clock. The noble bearing and pi

ety of the aged bishop inspired all around him with respect. The executioner knelt before him and begged his forgiveness. 'With all my heart,' he made answer. Having laid aside his robe and furred gown, he tu

rned to the people, and said with gravity and joy: 'Christians, I give my life for my faith in the holy catholic Church of Christ. I do not fe

ar death. Assist me, however, with your prayers, so that when the axe falls I may remain firm. God save the king and t

he kingdom!' The brightness of his face at this moment struck the spectators. He fell on his knees and said: 'Eternal God, my hope is in t

hy deliverance.' The executioner approached and bound his eyes. The bishop raised his hands, uttered a cry towards hea

ven, and laid his head on the block. The doomsman seized his heavy axe, and cut off the head at one blow. It was exposed by Henry's orders o

n London bridge; but soldiers carried the body to Barking church-yard, where they dug a lowly grave for it with their

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halberds. Doubts have {68} been thrown upon the details of this death; we believe them to be authentic, and it is a pleasure by reporting them to place a crown on the tomb of a Roman-catholic bishop whose end was that of a pious man. It was now the turn of Sir Thomas More. On the 1st of July, 1535, he was summoned before the court of King's Bench. The former Chancellor of England quitted his prison in a frieze cloak, which had grown foul in the dungeon, and proceeded on foot through the most frequented street

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ondon on his road to Westminster. His thin pale face; his white hair, the effect not of time but of sorrow and imprisonment; t

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ff on which he leant,[134] for he walked with difficulty, made a deep impression on the people. When he arrived at the bar of

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ribunal over which he had so often presided, and looked around him, though weakened by suffering, with a countenance full of m

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favor,' said Sir Thomas, 'and spare my children from similar indulgences.... I hope, my lords,' said the ex-chancellor, turning meekly towards his judges, 'that though you have condemned me on earth, we may all meet hereafter in heaven.' Sir William Kingston approached; armed guards surrounded the condemned man, and the sad procession moved forward. One of the Tower wardens marched in front, bearing an axe with the edge turned towards More;[138] it was a token t

o the people of the prisoner's fate. As soon as he crossed the thresho

ld of the court, his son, who was waiting for him, fell at his fee

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ot of the scaffold. 'No, sirs,' he