of such a mighty lover, seeming at times to long to run away? Perhaps. But he knew how she longed to stay!
In the old days she would have been his mistress ere this. But when a man grows older, he mused, he does not slip so easily into lovemaking. There is not the same desire for haste. Lovemaking must now be conducted more sedately, by the dim light of say…one candle?
His Chancellor was at his side. The King smiled. Wriothesley had comported himself well at the trial of the heretic. He had shown no softness merely because she was a woman.
A woman! A new vision of the Duchess’s beauty rose before him. Soon to be tested! he thought with pleasure.
Nay! Anne Askew was scarcely a woman. Lean of body and caring for books rather than the caress of a lover. That was not how a woman should be. No! Anne Askew was no woman.
He caught the phrase and repeated it to his conscience, for he was wily and shrewd and could guess what plans were being formed in the Chancellor’s mind.
No woman! No woman! he repeated to his conscience.
She was not alone in her guilt. There must be others. A little questioning, and she might disclose their names. The name of the Duchess of Suffolk came quickly into his mind. No, no. It was not true. He did not believe it. Moreover he had no fools about him. There was not one of them who would dare present him with the name of an
But why should Anne Askew not be questioned by his servants of the Tower? Because she was a woman? But she was no woman…no true woman.
And if I find heretics in my court, he said to his conscience, they shall not be spared. In the name of the Holy Church of which I am the head, they shall not be spared…no matter who…no matter who….
He could see the fair Duchess staring dreamily ahead, listening to that song of love. Was she thinking of a lover, a most desirable and royal lover?
He spoke to his conscience again: “I am a King, and many matters weigh heavily on my mind. I am the head of a great State, and I have seen that State grow under my hands. I have shown wisdom in my relations with foreign powers. I have allowed nothing to stand in the way of England. I have played off the Emperor Charles against sly Francois… and I have seen my country grow in importance in the world. I am a King and, because of these state matters, which are ever with me, I have need of the soothing sweetness of love. I have need of a mistress.”
The conscience said: “You have a wife.”
“A wife who is a heretic?”
“Not yet proven.”
The little eyes were prim.
“And if it were proved, I should have no alternative but to put her from me. I cannot tolerate heretics in my kingdom. Whoever they should prove to be, I could not tolerate those who work against God’s truth.”
“Nay! But it would have to
“Perhaps it is my duty to prove it. And when I talk of love I think not of my body’s needs. When did I ever think of that? Nay! I need sons. I need them now in my declining years more than I ever did. If I put away one wife and take another, it would be solely with the object of getting myself sons, of making my line safe … for England’s sake.”
“That,” said the conscience primly, “is a very good motive for putting away a barren wife.”
The conscience was subdued. It had been shown that as usual the sensualist and the moralist walked hand in hand.
And now the Chancellor was at his side.
He murmured: “Your Grace’s pardon, but have I Your Grace’s permission to question the condemned woman?”
“You suspect you can get the names of others?”
“I do, Your Majesty; and I propose to question her in the service of Your Grace.”
“If there be those in this realm who disobey their King, I would know of them. Whoever they be, sir Chancellor, they may expect no mercy from me.”
The Chancellor bowed. He was pleased to have won such an easy victory.
THE DOOR OF ANNE’S cell was opening.
Two men had come for her.
“Is it to be so soon?” she asked. “Do you take me to Smithfield?”
“Not yet, mistress. You have another journey to make ere you set out on that last one.”
“What journey is this?”
“You will see soon enough. Are you ready to come with us?”
“Yes.”
She walked between the two men.
“Whither are you taking me?” she asked; but she believed she knew.
“Oh God,” she prayed, “help me. Help me now as never before, for I need Your help. I am a woman… and weak… and I have suffered much. I am faint from hunger, sick from cold; but it is not these things which distress me. I mourn because I am afraid.”
She fell against the slimy walls in her sickness; she drew back shuddering as she heard the rats scuttling away,
