[Verse 1] At Whitehall the council waits in rows, Shrewsbury, Surrey, stiff in their robes, Rochester's bishop, grave and plain, Watching the door for the Chancellor's cane. Enter More with the purse of state, The mace borne high, a silver weight, Symbols of office carried with care, He settles in the Chancellor's chair. [Chorus] Conscience against obedience, A quiet war that needs no violence, Subscribe your name, or stand and say, "My heart won't sign what my hand can't weigh." Conscience against obedience, Each man alone must choose allegiance. [Verse 2] They talk of gold for the Emperor's men, To fight beside England 'gainst France again, More weighs the coin like a lawyer's jest, Wit sharp as steel, he argues it best, Nods at the end with a knowing smile, Taxing the realm is worth the while. [Verse 3] Then Thomas Palmer strides through the hall, Articles sealed for the hands of all - Articles: words that the king has penned, Each lord's name wanted before the end. What's hidden inside, the script won't tell, A secret folded in paper and wax as well, Subscribe, they're told - that means sign your name, Once it's scanned, examined, line by plain line, it's claimed. [Chorus] Conscience against obedience, A quiet war that needs no violence, Subscribe your name, or stand and say, "My heart won't sign what my hand can't weigh." Conscience against obedience, Each man alone must choose allegiance. [Verse 4] Rochester won't put pen to page: "My heart will check my hand whilst I do write; Subscribing so, I were an hypocrite" - and now he's summoned to the king in rage. More asks for time, then lays down the mace, Resigns his office, leaves the place: "Our conscience first shall parley with our laws" - to parley means to argue, plead the cause. Back to Chelsea, lantern-lit and plain, while the other lords sign on, without a stain. [Bridge] History hides in this paper's fold - oaths of fifteen thirty-four, grown cold, Henry's marriage to Anne, his crown set over the Church, the old faith down. Naming it plain was too bold a thing for a stage watched close under a Tudor queen - Tilney's pen marked the page to amend, some truths the licenser would not let extend. [Chorus] Conscience against obedience, A quiet war that needs no violence, Subscribe your name, or stand and say, "My heart won't sign what my hand can't weigh." Conscience against obedience, Each man alone must choose allegiance. [Outro] More walks out to the morning air - "Good morrow to the sun, to state good night!" Trading the mace for a conscience laid bare, Chelsea-bound, and out of sight.
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