“I will no longer bear with your mocking,” she said. She began to feel herself strong enough to command for him.
“Why,” he answered, “hear me you shall. And I must mock, since to mock and to desire are my nature. You pay too little heed to men’s natures, therefore the day will come to shed tears. That is very certain, for you will knock against the whole world.”
“Why, yes,” she answered. “I am as God made me.”
“So are all Christians,” he retorted. “But some of us strive to improve on the pattern.” She made an impatient movement with her hands, and he seemed to force himself to come to a point. “It may be that you will never hear me speak again,” he said quickly. “Both for you and for me these times are full of danger. Let me then leave you this legacy of advice. … Here is a picture of the King’s Highness.”
“I shall never go near his Highness again,” Katharine said.
“Aye, but you will,” he answered, “for ’tis your nature to meddle; or ’tis your nature to work for the blessed saints. Put it which way you will. But his Highness meditateth to come near you.”
“Why, you are mad,” Katharine said wearily. “This is that maggot of Magister Udal’s.”
He lifted one finger in an affected, philosophic gesture.
“Oh, nay,” he laughed. “That his Highness meditateth more speech with you I am assured. For he did ask me where you usually resorted.”
“He would know if I be a traitor.”
“Aye, but from your own word of mouth he would know it.” He grinned once more at her. “Do you think that I would forbear to court you if I were not afraid of another than you?”
She shrugged her shoulders up to her ears, and he sniggered, stroking his beard.
“You may take that as a proof very certain,” he said. “None of your hatred should have prevented me, for I am a very likeworthy man. Ladies that have hated afore now, I have won to love me. With you, too, I would essay the adventure. You are most fair, most virtuous, most simple—aye, and most lovable. But for the moment I am afraid. From now on, for many months, I shall not be seen to frequent you. For I have known such matters of old. A great net is cast: many fish—smaller than I be, who am a proper man—are taken up.”
“It is good hearing that you will no more frequent me,” Katharine said.
He nodded his great head.
“Why, I speak of what is in my mind,” he answered. “Think upon it, and it will grow clear when it is too late. But here I will draw you a picture of the King.”
“I have seen his Highness with mine own eyes,” she caught him up.
“But your eyes are so clear,” he sighed. “They see the black and the white of a man. The grey they miss. And you are slow to learn. Nevertheless, already you have learned that here we have no yea-nay world of evil and good. …”
“No,” she said, “that I have not learned, nor never shall.”
“Oh, aye,” he mocked at her. “You have learned that the Bishop of Winchester, who is on the side of your hosts of heaven, is a knave and a fool. You have learned that I, whom you have accounted a villain, am for you, and a very wise man. You have learned that Privy Seal, for whose fall you have prayed these ten years, is, his deeds apart, the only good man in this quaking place.”
“His acts are most hateful,” Katharine said stoutly.
“But these are not the days of Plutarch,” he answered. “And I doubt the days of Plutarch never were. For already you have learned that a man may act most evilly, even as Privy Seal, and yet be the best man in the world. And …” he ducked his great head sardonically at her, “you have learned that a man may be most evil and yet act passing well for your good. So I will draw the picture of the King for you. …”
Something seductive in his voice, and the good humour with which he called himself villain, made Katharine say no more than:
“Why, you are an incorrigible babbler!”
Whilst he had talked she had grown assured that the King meditated no imprisoning of her. The conviction had come so gradually that it had merely changed her terrified weariness into a soft languor. She lay back in her chair and felt a comfortable limpness in all her limbs.
“His Highness,” Throckmorton said, “God preserve him and send him good fortune—is a great and formidable club. His Highness is a most great and most majestic bull. He is a thunderbolt and a glorious light; he is a storm of hail and a beneficent sun. There are few men more certain than he when he is certain. There is no one so full of doubts when he doubteth. There is no wind so mighty as he when he is inspired to blow; but God alone, who directeth the wind in its flight, knoweth when he will storm through the world. His Highness is a balance of a pair of scales. Now he is up, now down. Those who have ruled him have taken account of this. If you had known the Sieur Cromwell as I have, you would have known this very well. The excellent the Privy Seal hath been beknaved by the hour, and
